It was beginning to piss Alex off. Month after month spent in a rehab because he couldn't walk on his own. He knew more about prosthetics than he cared about. The leg sleeve, the rashes, the fact that he couldn't walk more than a few steps without needing to look down to make sure he was walking straight.

"Here, Alex." The CNA that did his physical therapy came over with the parallel bars, "Let's-"

"I don't need the damn walk bar!" Alex snapped as he attempted another step, putting the foot down too hard and hurting where the prosthetic sat against his leg nub, "Ow! Shit!"

"Look, I'm sorry." Alex grabbed the nearest chair and collapsed in it, "This is all bullshit. I feel like a damn puppet."