A Face In The Hall (Justin Timberlake fan fiction)

Chapter 2

Justin sat on the edge of the examination table, wincing in pain while grabbing handfuls of the loud and annoying exam table paper.  He watched as the doctor pressed his fingers around his knee, secretly wanting to take the man’s hand and breaking every last one of the fingers that were causing him such discomfort.  

To take his mind off the pain, he started to explain the problem he was having with his pain medication and his reoccurring dreams.  He figured he’d rather not take the pills and deal with the pain as opposed to slowly making himself crazy every night.  But at this point, with the way the doctor was pressing down on his knee, he was re-thinking that decision entirely.    

"…You say you were having these dreams before your injury right, Justin?" the doctor asked.

"Yeah, but I would only have them every once in a while.  Ever since I hurt my knee, I’ve been having them non-stop."

"Well I'm afraid that isn't a side effect,” the doctor stated plainly.  He slid over towards the counter on his wheeled stool and began to write some notes down in the file before turning his gaze back to Justin.  He opened his mouth to speak but paused, “…You may want to see a psychologist about that."

"No-I don’t need a damn shrink, doc." Justin snapped before getting up from the examination table and putting his jeans back on.  

With the rim of his bifocals slightly lowered, and one eyebrow raised, he gave Justin that all too familiar look.  Justin was immediately put on the defensive and said, "I just don’t believe in sitting in a room and telling some complete stranger about my childhood, so he can make assumptions about what is wrong me, Doc.  I got my momma for that.”

“It was only a suggestion.” The doctor defended, raising up from his stool to hand Justin two pain pills and a small cup of water, demanding Justin take them.  “…So on a scale of 1 to 10, how has your pain level been lately?”

"Before digging your fingers into my knee?” he joked, “I would say around a 6."

"Well that's better.” The doctor continued to write more notes.  “Slowly, but surely.  It's going to take a while for your ACL to heal.  We have to get some more scans taken, but I think the surgery took."

Justin didn’t seem too optimistic about the news.  The doctor placed down his pen and patiently waited for Justin to finish lacing up his shoe so that he could have his full attention.  “You know, Justin.  I deal with player injuries all the time.  When you’re out there playing, you think you’re invincible, till the moment you’re not anymore.” He sighed crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “It definitely can affect a person…In more ways than one.  You really should find someone to talk to abo-“  He could see Justin on the verge of protest.  “Look, it doesn’t have to be a shrink.  Maybe a friend, or other players who’ve had similar injuries.  They may be able to pull you out of this rut.”

Justin grabbed up his coat, nodding in agreement.  As he was about to step out of the room he looked back at the doctor and said.  “I’ve spent half of my life chasing this dream…Making huge sacrifices along the way.  And to know that it could be over in a snap? Literally…A snap!” he reiterated by snapping his finger. “I’m not ready to let that go, yet.  It has to have been worth everything I’ve gone through…It has to have been worth everything I’ve given up…”

 Later on that evening after his arduous physical therapy session and his photo shoot with Nike, Justin headed out for drinks with some programming executives for ESPN.  His agent was working hard to make sure that he kept busy while they were playing the waiting game on whether or not he’d be able to play ball again.