\n Kip finished dressing as quickly as he was able, and by the time he zipped his gym bag closed and turned around, Jake was straddling the other bench, waiting patiently for him.

\n "Thank you." Kip said, hoping with all his heart that his eyes could convey the gratitude, shame, and embarrassment he felt at that moment. Even though the other man might intimidate the hell out of him, he still appreciated his help.

\n Jake looked straight into his eyes, rolled his massive shoulders in a shrug and said, simply, "You're welcome." And in that instant, with just those two words, Kip knew that Jake understood him perfectly. "Come on."

\n Walking a bit more upright than he had a few minutes earlier, Kip followed Jake's broad back toward the locker room door. When the guys on the other side of the locker banks came into view, the two meatheads lumbered over to give Kip high-fives like he'd just scored the winning touchdown, or something. It took him a second to realize what was happening, then he reached up and slapped the impossibly large palm of the mean-looking but apparently friendly pitbull. It felt like he had just slapped a lightly padded concrete wall, and besides stinging his hand, it jarred his head. His stomach made a disquieting lurch in his belly.

\n Kip looked up at the enthusiastically raised hand of the equine morph, the hand that was easily two feet above his reach. Dunny grinned self-consciously and dropped his hoof down to a more reasonable level, claiming Kip's weak but willing palm-slap in return. Kip wasn't entirely sure what was going on, why the guys were giving him so much attention, but whatever their reasoning was, it left him feeling somewhat better inside.

\n In the parking lot, Jake's remote control flashed the lights on a big black pick up truck that, although it was a few years old, still seemed to be in pretty good shape. Kip had often admired it, thinking that if he'd been more macho and manly, he might have a truck much like this one. Lifted a few inches and riding on large, aggressive looking tires, a bit of diamond-plate trim here and there, it was masculine without crossing the line into being cartoonishly butch. Noticing their size difference, Jake opened up Kip's door and helped boost him into the seat before circling around and getting into the driver's seat.

\n Jake twisted the key and the engine fired with a muted roar. On the way towards the street, he fastened his belt and said, "I know you probably don't feel much like conversation right now, but Sam told me to keep you talking, if I could. Something about making sure your brain wasn't scrambled, or something like that."

\n "It feels like it is," Kip admitted. "And high-fiveing those guys didn't help any. Hitting their hands was like hitting a pair of brick walls."

\n "Why'd you do it, then?" Jake asked, honestly curious.

\n Kip breathed deeply and let it out, trying to relax a bit, and think before answering. "Nobody I've ever admired has ever wanted to do anything like that with me before. I've always felt like I'm on the outside looking in, and if someone's going to go out on a limb and be friendly to me like that, I'm not going to let a little thing like a concussion stand in the way."

\n Reality knocked on his door, and Kip answered. "I mean, it might not mean anything tomorrow, but for today, for five seconds at least, I felt like I belonged."

\n Jake drove quietly for a few moments, then asked,"Why do you feel like that?"

\n "Like what?" Kip asked.

\n "Like you don't belong?"

\n "Because I don't," Kip replied. "Just look at us. I've been going to that gym for over three years now, and you and I haven't ever spoken a word to each other before tonight."he paused for a moment and admitted, "I don't even know your name."

\n "Why, Kip! I'm amazed, " Jake teased, then out of consideration for Kip's injury, he relented. "Okay, you've got me there. None of us know your name either, until Carl told us." He gestured with his free hand, and Kip knew he had more to say. "We do tend to stay inside our group, I guess. We've been together for a long time, and it works for us." He paused, then said, "But you could have come to us, too."

\n "What for?" Kip asked, warming to the discussion. "The only thing we have in common is that we work out at the same gym. And you're not going to be coming around asking someone like me for a spot on a heavy lift, you know. I can't lift a quarter of the weight you do."

\n "That's not true. You lift fully half what I do on calf raises."

\n Kip was shocked. "You're telling me you noticed?"

\n "Well, yeah," Jake admitted, "I know what everyone that comes into that gym lifts. It's what I pay attention to. I can't tell you what their name is, or anything, but I can tell you what everyone can lift. It's my "thing", I guess."

\n Jake realized that, once again, he had failed to introduce himself. "Goddamn, I just did it again, didn't I?" He held out one massive paw to Kip, "Jake Baxter." Kip took Jake's paw in his own, and for some reason it was more than a handshake. When Jake's paw engulfed his own, Kip opened his mind to the experience, permanently recording it for later review. The first sensation was warmth, followed by smooth, dry leather of the palm. Then he felt the hard ridges of callous that formed from years of heavy lifting without protective gloves. When Jake tightened his grip, Kip could feel the muscles moving underneath the skin in what could have been a crushing grip, but was carefully moderated to socially acceptable levels. His strength, even restrained as it was, was obvious. Gripping Jake's hand was like gripping a piece of hydraulic machinery wrapped in a doeskin glove.

\n Reclaiming his hand, Jake said, "But you're right, I guess. We just haven't had any reason to talk to each other until we ran into each other tonight." The huge morph chuckled, "Literally." He glanced over at Kip as if gauging his reaction. "So what happened? We looked in the showers for some kind of monster crawling out of the plumbing, but we couldn't figure it out. Why did you come running out of the showers like that?"

\n Kip considered what the chances were that he could deflect the question, and he was pretty certain that Jake would give him a pass if he requested one. Did he really want to go into all that now? "Fuck it." Kip said, softly, and the weary resignation of his words carried loud and clear to Jake's ears.

\n "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to." Jake said, quietly. "You know that, right?"

\n Kip scrubbed his face with his hands, then groaned in pain. "Oh, that was the wrong thing to do!" he complained, gingerly holding the back of his head still with both hands. He sighed. "No, I have to tell someone. Now that we've been properly introduced and have at least one shared crisis between us, I suppose you're eligible to know what's going on."

\n "Evidently your sense of humor is intact," Jake joked with a grin.

\n "Evidently. Look," Kip said, "I'll tell you what's going on, but we're almost at the stadium, and it's a long story. Besides, I'd like to get everything coherent before I try to tell it. Can I tell you afterwards?"

\n Jake shrugged. "Sure, but don't count on me forgetting about it. Now you've got me curious."

\n "In the meantime," Kip suggested, "why don't you tell me about yourself? What made you the person you are today?"

\n "Me?" Jake asked, surprised. "I dunno. I guess nobody's ever asked me that sort of thing before."

\n Kip looked at him expectantly. "So I'm supposed to spill my guts to you, but you get off with a shrug and an "I dunno"?"

\n "No, " Jake answered, "it just caught me off guard, that's all. Nobody ever asks about me."

\n "Why is that, do you think?" Kip asked.

\n "I guess I'm too busy asking about them," Jake offered, "Maybe I put them off a little bit, too. I'm usually the biggest guy in the room, and some folks get nervous around me."

\n "It's obvious that you're the leader of the pack in the gym," Kip thought out loud, "Maybe they don't pry into your private life out of respect. Or fear."

\n "Could be, I guess," Jake said, "but that's probably overthinking it. It's probably more likely that the morons I hang around with aren't bright enough to ever think of asking the question!" He laughed, and Kip thought he heard music. "Naw, that's not true. They're all really bright guys, but in different areas. I think everyone in my circle knows me well enough that they never had to ask the question of how I got to be the way I am. They were all there when it happened."

\n "That makes sense," Kip agreed, " but what about new people in your life? Girlfriends, buddies, someone must ask the question."

\n Slowly, as if trying to remember, Jake shook his head. "It's been years since someone new has come along, and I don't date." He looked at Kip significantly. "I guess you're the first new friend I've had in a decade or more."

\n "You consider me a friend?" Kip asked, doubtfully. "You haven't known me very long, to say that."

\n Jake grinned his wolfishly toothy smile at Kip. "Like you said, buddy, we've been through a crisis together. That tells me all I need to know."

\n "Yeah, I guess I did say that," Kip replied, making a mental note to be careful what he said around his newfound friend. With a memory like that, he might recall all sorts of damaging things at inconvenient times.

\n They pulled into the parking lot of the stadium, one of only a half dozen cars remaining in the lot. "Sit tight," Jake said, putting his truck into park and unlatching his seat belt. "I'll be right around." He jumped out of the truck, careful to not shake it any more than he had to, and padded around to let Jake out of the passenger side. He helped him down to ground level, locked the doors behind them, and led them to one of the entrances ringing the stadium.

\n "It's been a while since I've been here, but Coach said this is where I was supposed to bring you." Jake pushed a buzzer, and within seconds he was talking to someone in the building over the scratchy intercom system. "We're here to see Doctor Irving," Jake said, "Coach Carl sent us."

\n The latch on the door buzzed open, and the tinny voice said, "Go down the hall to your right, door 12B."

\n "Thanks," Jake said, distractedly, as he pushed into the building. "Come on, Kip. Let's get a move-on."

\n The battered hallway led them underground, and they walked a surprising distance before coming to 12B. Kip guessed that the hall must ring the entire stadium, and they had entered at the spot farthest from their destination. Of course. By this time his head was pounding again, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and rest.

\n The door was unlocked, and they walked into a medical facility that rivalled any one might find in a major hospital. It was apparent that the football team was very, very serious about keeping its million-dollar players healthy. A human male walked up to them and introduced himself as Doctor Irving. "You must be Kip and Jake," he said cheerfully, motioning them to follow him into the clinic. Looking Jake up and down as they walked, he said, "I wouldn't be surprised if you were one of our players. You certainly have the build for it."

\n "A long time ago I thought about trying out," Jake admitted. "But I'm a bit old to be starting a new career at this point."

\n Dr. Irving turned the corner into an examination room, and the two morphs followed closely behind. "Hop up on the table, my friend," he motioned to Kip. "Let's do a quick exam to see where you're at. Can you tell me what happened?"

\n While the doctor had him squeeze fingers, balance on one foot, and look into a brightly lighted exam light, Kip told him the story as he knew it, glossing over his madcap dash out of the shower room, and recounting what Sam had told him about what happened while he was unconscious. Jake filled in a few minor details that Kip didn't know, the doctor making encouraging doctor noises the whole time.

\n "You do seem to have a concussion," the doctor confirmed, "but we won't know more until we do a scan." He led them into a dimly lit room containing nothing but a biobed and a small desk with a computer terminal sitting on it.

\n "Hop up here and lay down, please." Doctor Irving powered up the terminal, entered his password, and started the scan. Kip tried to relax, but he had no idea what to expect.  All he felt was a slight vibration running through the platform he was laying on.  Was this is?

\n Jake had seen scans done before, and he stared at the computer terminal expectantly, waiting for an image to come up on the monitor. Then he saw where the doctor was looking, and realized that his expectations of what this equipment was capable of were set far, far too low. The image wasn't on the computer screen, it was floating in three dimensional space against the empty wall behind the scanning table. His jaw dropped in amazement. He'd only seen this sort of advanced technology in science fiction movies.

\n Glancing  back at Jake, the doctor chuckled at the stunned expression on his face.  "Yeah, they don't spare any expense where these billion dollar athletes are concerned." Turning his attention to his patient, he said, "Now, let's see what's going on inside your head."

\n "You haven't broken your skull, and you don't have any open bleeding under the bone, you've just got a little bit of minor bruising to the scalp and swelling in your brain tissues." He looked at Kip and saw fear in his eyes. "That's good," he amended hastily. "You've got a tiny bit of minor damage, but It looks like you're going to be all right."

\n Kip breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't realize he was holding, and slowly sat up on the edge of the biobed. "Thanks, doc. I'm grateful for your time."

\n "Not a problem," the doctor deferred, "just try to be more careful next time!" As he led them back to the office entrance, he gave them a running list of instructions. Kip's tired brain recorded, "Take aspirin for the pain," but everything after that was just buzzing until the doctor stopped them at the door, his hand on the knob. "Do you have someone to stay with tonight?" he asked Kip. "No matter how good your scans look, it's important to have someone with you for at least 24 hours after an injury like this."

\n "I live alone," Kip said, hesitant. "Is it really that important?

\n Jake cut him off. "Don't worry, Doc, We'll make sure he's got someone with him for the next day or so."

\n They made the long walk back to the truck, and Kip thanked Jake for helping him out back there. "I was sure the doctor was going to put me on lockdown."

\n "Not a problem, short stack. Do you want to hang out with me tonight, or would you be more comfortable at your own place?"

\n What?   "Wait a minute," Kip said, "I thought you were just bullshitting him back there. Are you serious?"

\n "Well, yeah," Jake said, taken aback. "I don't say what I don't mean. Ever."

\n "I don't get this," Kip asked, almost accusingly, "Why are you being so nice to me?"

\n "Because I'm a nice guy," Jake said, exasperated. Then, "Look, just because I'm big doesn't mean I'm an asshole, right? It's annoying that every nice thing I do for you is being looked at with suspicion. I'm a good guy, and I don't deserve that."

\n Kip caught up with Jake and put a hand on his cannonball of a shoulder. He almost expected the bigger man to pull away, but he stopped in his tracks and looked down at him, annoyance and a little bit of insult very visible in his expressive brown eyes. "I'm sorry, Jake. You've been nothing but kind to me, and I do appreciate it. Really."

\n Nodding, Jake started back towards the truck. "'s alright, I guess," he said. "It's just been a long day, I've had a kiiller leg workout, and I haven't eaten anything in six hours. I'm starved, my blood sugar is low, and I'm turning into Superbitch."

\n "Then let me buy you dinner. Your choice. And while we're eating, I'll fill you in on why I freaked out today."