Yeah. I have a 6000 word assignment due next Friday and I should have been working on that. In my defence, I did work on it for two days before I succumbed to the urge to watch the Elimination Chamber DVD I bought. That counts as a victory in my book!

I don't write Randy. Ever. I don't know how he ended up in here. Probably because I hate Cena. Not too proud of this one.

Anything you recognise, I don't own!

Randy Orton walked out of his bathroom, towel in hand as he dried his hair. Humming under his breath, he grabbed a pair of sweats from his bag and pulled them on over his boxer briefs. The hot water had felt great on his muscles after his stint in the Elimination Chamber and even though the pain was gone for now, he knew it would be back tomorrow.

"God Damn it," a female voice seethed behind him. "Why won't this television work?"

Randy spun around, fists poised in front on him to attack. He had had crazed fans break into his room before and he wasn't afraid to protect himself if necessary. The Viper was about to strike when he saw a black head of hair pop up from behind the television set, the culprit obviously messing with the cords.

"Jesus Christ Melina! What are you doing here?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" She snapped. "I'm getting ready to watch John's Elimination Chamber match."

Quickly throwing on a shirt, Randy shoved his dirty ring gear in his bag and slumped down on a bench. "Last time I checked, John had his own locker room. I repeat, what are you doing here?"

Melina scowled. "There was a mix up and he had to share with Mike. Miz kicked me out. He said that after listening to me carry on during John's match against Ziggler at Hell in a Cell last year he refused to watch pay per views with me anymore."

"Can't say I blame him," Randy muttered under his breath. He loved Melina, he did; but it was no big secret that she tended to get … excited whenever John had a match. Especially one where he could suffer a major injury. Randy had spoken to him before the match and he didn't know who was more anxious: John -who was actually going to be IN the Chamber - or his girlfriend, who only had to watch it. "Why don't you go to the Diva's locker room? Catering? Anywhere else but here?"

"I don't like 85% of the Diva's," Melina rolled her eyes. "And I'm not going to catering. Last time I was there alone I was cornered by the Dude Busters and let me tell you, it did not end well. For them," she smirked. Randy chuckled despite himself. When she wanted to be, Melina could be really vindictive. "Please Randy," Melina begged, quickly changing tack. The smirk was now replaced by big puppy dog eyes and her trademark pout. "I'm worried that something might go wrong in there and I would feel better about it if I was here with you. Please don't make me watch this alone."

Randy sighed. If word got back to John that he'd kicked Melina out there would be hell to pay. "Fine," he grumbled warningly. "But!" Melina squealed, happy to have gotten her own way. "If you start to get on my nerves, you're outta here Perez. I need to relax after my match. Just sit down and don't say a word."

Melina nodded quickly. "I swear, Randy. Not a word." Yeah, Randy thought. I give her five minutes. "You don't even have to worry about Dibiase coming back," she piped up. "I kicked him out while you were in the shower."

The former World Champion was about to speak before he stopped to consider his words. "Huh. That was actually pretty nice of you. Thanks."

"Welcome," she replied as a package on the Chamber from earlier that night began to play on screen. "He said something about how you never give him the time of day anyway, so I figured he wouldn't be missed."

"Right," Randy rolled his eyes. Typical Ted. "Um, I'm going to head to catering and grab a drink before this starts. You want anything?"

She shook her head fiercely without removing her eyes from the screen. "I don't want to miss this," she replied in a rush as Rey appeared on the stage. "Hurry! John is up next!"

Grabbing his phone, Randy left to go next door to catering. Paying for what seemed like enough food and drink to feed a small country he exited and returned to his locker room down the hall. In the distance he could hear John's entrance music playing.

Things were about to get ugly.

Pushing open the door, Randy was shushed by Melina, John's girlfriend listening intently to the colour commentary. Against his better judgement he sat down beside her and opened his sandwich before handing her a diet coke which she took wordlessly. The Guru of Greatness made his way down the ramp, looking slightly rattled.

"I've been thinking about this a lot this week Matt," Michael Cole said in all seriousness. "John Morrison has a lingering ankle injury. Will that effect him, physically, if not mentally, inside the Chamber tonight?"

"Not at all," Matt Striker disagreed with a shake of his head. "This is a chance for John Morrison to shed his innocence. John Morrison will never be the same. As far as physically, put some tape on it, take a shot of cortisone and let's go. Mentally, John Morrison has been to the mountain top. John Morrison is a former ECW Champion, John Morrison HAS Wrestlemania experience."

"Innocence? What innocence?" Randy asked around his mouthful of food. "He lost that when he started dating this one," he explained to the television. "I hear she's a hell cat."

Luckily for him, Melina simply ignored his comments and remained transfixed on the screen.

"This is about being in the main event at Wrestlemania," Cole intoned. "This is about winning the World Heavyweight Championship that is currently held by the Undertaker."

"As you can see," Matt Striker rambled on as John surveyed the structure sceptically. "These guys that are virgins of the Chamber, they look around, they almost don't know what to make of this incarceration as these walls begin to close in on their careers."

"When you're going into this Elimination Chamber for the first time in your career as John Morrison is, it's awe inspiring," Jerry Lawler added his two cents as John entered his pod, and reached for the roof attempting to use his arms to pull himself up. "It's ... I don't know, you can just be overcome by emotion as you look around this chamber."

"Overcome by emotion?" Randy asked mockingly. "What, is he going to burst into tears or something when they lock him inside?"

All it took was one look from Melina to shut him up as the Undertaker made his way down the ramp.

"I can never remember another Superstar entering the match that way," Michael Cole mused.

"With trepidation?" Striker asked.

"No," Cole replied in annoyance. "With intensity."

There was an expression written across John's face that Melina didn't recognise. Jogging on the spot he rolled his shoulders, exhaling anxiously. His eyes were wild as he licked his lips and Punk's music began to play.

He was nervous.

Melina took a sip of her drink. "He looks scared."

"Of course he should be scared!" Randy replied in a bored tone as Melina sat back in her seat. Her expression mirrored that of her boyfriend on screen. "Look at all of that steel! Do you know how it feels to land on that repeatedly? To have your face grated against the walls-"

"-STOP IT!" She covered her eyes. "John could get seriously injured in there and you're making a mockery of the whole affair."

"No, Melina, I'm not." Randy sighed. "I'm trying to prepare you for the worst. I'm not going to sugar coat this and promise you that everything is going to be fine, because there's a good chance John will get hurt. You need to calm down. This is just like any other match John has been in. The only thing that has changed is his surroundings. Have some faith in the guy."

Melina failed to respond as R-Truth left the chamber and Punk grabbed a microphone. She knew she needed to calm down. But she couldn't help worrying. The only structure John had wrestled in before was a steel cage at New Year Revolution against Jeff Hardy. How did that turn out? He'd ended up nutting himself on the damn cage door.

"And I'm going to prove to you," Punk spat at John as she shook her head and focussed on the screen. "That your decadent rock life will get you nowhere."

John nodded, nervous energy coursing through his veins. He mouthed what looked like 'Okay' to the camera before Punk focussed his energies on antagonising Jericho on the other side of the ring.

Melina perched on the edge of her seat, eyes locked on the screen. "Didn't anyone ever tell him that it's rude to point?"

"He must have been absent from school that day," Randy joked as he shovelled more food down his throat. "He really need to work on cutting a decent promo. The crowd's falling asleep."

"Looks like he's been paying attention to you then, doesn't it?" She remarked snidely. "I can't remember the last time Legacy captured my attention in the ring."

"Gee Mel, next time tell me how you really feel. You don't have to be so damn bitchy."

"I can't help it," she retorted. "How would you feel if it was Sam out there in that Chamber?"

Randy rolled his eyes. "Mel, John isn't in ANY danger while he's still in that pod. And my wife would never be anywhere remotely NEAR a WWE ring, let alone an Elimination Chamber. Power down."

Silence once again overtook the room as Punk continued to preach to the crowd. It was only after the match started again and that Rey had been released that Melina began to worry. "Randy! Did you see that? Rey's head almost smacked into John's pod!"

"Don't worry about Rey or anything Mel," Randy laughed. "Look, there's John. He's fine. Oh wait … do I see a hair out of place? What will the Shaman of Sexy do?"

Scowling, Melina slapped him around the back of the head. "Shut. Up."

Her eyes widened as Punk landed on the his back on the outside after falling from the top rope. Rolling into the ring, he arched his back of the mat to try and alleviate the pain. Before he knew what was happening, Rey was crushing him to the mat with a giant splash and he was eliminated.

"Morrison looks nervous," Striker surmised as the camera flashed upon John. "Jericho looks stoic."

"What do they expect him to do?" Melina shot back sarcastically. "Dance?"

Randy snorted as he took a sip of his drink. Jericho entered the fray and immediately set after Mysterio. The two traded blows and submission holds as John and the Taker looked on from their respective isolation pods. John had to be released next, Melina realised. There was no way Taker wouldn't be the last man to be in the match. Taking Randy by surprise she grabbed his hand and dug her nails into his palm as the clock counted down. Wincing in pain, he thought about saying something and yanking his hand lose but thought better of it. Jericho had Rey Mysterio in the walls as the crowd cheered, excited to see who was coming next.

John.

As soon as his pod was unlocked he shoved the door open and made for the ring. Jericho relinquished his submission hold on Rey as John delivered countless blows to his co-workers head, knocking him to the mat. Chris Irish whipped Jericho across the ring , expecting him to bounce back off the ropes. John countered with a baseball slide, ducking under Chris's legs and standing to deliver a drop kick that would have made any wrestler proud. Delivering another drop kick, this time to Mysterio John smirked before throwing Jericho on the grating to the outside.

Melina gasped as Chris executed a roll up, only to have John kick out at the count of one. Chris took control, slamming John into the corner and slapping him in the face like a coward. Sending Morrison across the ring, Jericho wasn't expected to be the recipient of a kick to the side of his skull.

"See?" Randy reassured her quietly as he squeezed her hand. Melina relaxed momentarily, grateful that so far John looked to be in control. "He's doing fine."

Way to tempt fate, Orton.

John stood upon the top rope looking to capitalise while his opponent recovered. What he didn't expect was Rey to come up behind him and send him flying back into one of the isolation pods. Melina let out a tiny squeak as the cameramen caught John's pain on camera. Her boyfriend slumped to the floor clutching his head as his arm hung over the second rope.

"John Morrison is experiencing his first taste of the chamber," Matt Striker pointed our needlessly. "Let's see how JoMo responds."

Jericho and Rey battled back and forth before Rey went flying over the ropes again to the outside. His face contorted in agony, he rolled around the metal confines trying to get some feeling back in his spine.

All three men were down.

Jericho made it back to his feet first as the camera panned the giant cage. John was on his hands and knees on the opposite side of the structure as he found his footing. Suddenly, he took a running start and catapulted himself over the corner turnbuckle and on top of both the other men with a Kong Vault. Melina covered her eyes, relieved to see he had landed on his feet and was now putting a boot into the side of Chris Jericho. Taking advantage of Rey's injuries, John threw him into the centre of the ring and executed a standing shooting star press before going for the pin.

It wasn't enough.

Rey had John in position for the six one nine moments later. Jericho intercepted the tiny Mexican at the last second, launching into the air and setting him down with a cracking back breaker. As Rey kicked out for the umpteenth time Jericho began to get frustrated. Lifting Rey, he allowed the smaller man to put him into position for a bulldog. Using the second rope for leverage, John connected an enziguri to Chris's skull. The veteran wrestler fell to the mat, Rey using a hurricanrana to introduce John's face to the turnbuckle. Rey used John's momentum to shove the younger man onto the top turnbuckle. He threw several blows to the skull of John before attempting another hurricanrana off the top rope. John held on, however, and Rey fell back to the mat. It was only a matter of seconds before John was setting up for Starship Pain. Hitting the move perfectly, he went for the pin and eliminated the masked luchador.

"Yes!" Melina hissed. "That's it Johnny. Way to go babe."

"Wasn't Babe a talking pig?" Randy snickered.

Glaring at her friend, Melina stuck out her tongue. "Aren't you above stealing Jericho's old material?"

"Apparently not." he grinned. "It's funny."

On screen the Undertaker was getting frustrated. The big man punched the plexiglass walls of his pod, desperate to be set lose.

"Think about what this does for Morrison's confidence inside his first chamber," Cole suggested. "He's eliminated Mysterio. If he can somehow eliminate Jericho before the Undertaker gets in this match up, anything can happen."

Matt Striker prattled on uselessly in the background as John paused momentarily to watch Rey leave.

"What's he doing?" Melina panicked. "He needs to pay attention."

Randy watched on as Chris took advantage of John's distraction and John was put into the walls of Jericho. Melina's vice grip tightened as John's expression became one of pure agony. Running his hands through his hair John tried vehemently to hold on as Taker bashed the walls of his confines.

Five seconds on the clock.

Undertaker came storming out into the ring and Chris was forced to break the hold he had on John. Morrison rolled to the side of the ring, grateful for a moment's respite. Melina continued to watch the match through split fingers, one hand still covering her eyes. Randy winced as she accidentally whacked him in the side with an elbow.

"Sit. Still." Randy growled.

"I. Don't. Want. Too." Melina growled back.

The Undertaker ripped into Jericho, tossing him around the ring before throwing John over the top rope. Morrison landed on the metal grating for the first time, howling in pain as he worked to arch his back off of the steel below. Spinning around he turned on his side, trying hard to deflect the fiery discomfort racing down his spine. Melina cried out, Randy grimacing as the camera zoomed in on John's anguished face.

"Oh my God," she whispered. The hand covering her eyes was now covering her mouth. The Undertaker had Jericho set up for a choke slam, something that completely escaped Melina's attention as she buried her face in Randy's shoulder. "I can't look."

Randy's mouth was set grimly as he saw John get to his feet and stumble straight into a potential choke slam. "That's … properly a good idea."

Chris and John seemingly had the same idea, kicking Taker in the gut simultaneously and lifting him to flip him over their heads. As all three men climbed to their feet Chris and John worked in tandem again, flipping Taker over the top rope. Jericho then turned his focus on John who ducked to avoid impact, grabbing Chris's arm and rolling him up. John almost had him before Chris kicked out at two, sending him flying backward. Up again, he tried to bring Jericho back into the ring from the outside. Jericho countered, sending John flying into the air and on to the grating for the second time that match. John's legs absorbed most of the damage, his cry attracting the attention of Melina.

"What happened?" She asked anxiously, fisting her hands in Randy's shirt. "Randy? Is he okay?"

"He's alright," Randy lied through his teeth. "Chris is bleeding, but John is … ah … okay."

"What was that?" Melina yelped as they replayed the spot again, John's scream ripping through the tension in the air. She peeked for a second, unprepared for the sight of John flat on his back on the outside. "He doesn't look okay Randy!"

"He's fine," Randy argued. "I'm sure he's used to being laid out on his back-"Melina's eyes narrowed. "Finish that sentence and die Randall."

"Heh," he coughed a short laugh, quickly changing the subject. "Look. John's up. Way up," he added as Taker had John on his shoulders. Hung up on the ropes, John quickly recovered and flew off the second rope to deliver a devastating kick to the throat of the Undertaker. As Taker fell, John crumpled in agony, grasping at his injured right ankle.

"No no no," Melina chanted as John went to the corner. "Pin him! Don't go for the finisher! Just pin him John!" The Undertaker brought his knees up into the gut of John as he tried to hit Starship Pain for a second time. "Shit shit shit."

Taker remained lain out in the corner as John rolled around the mat.

"He should have gone for the pin," Randy agreed. "Amateur."

Melina was fuming. "At least he still has a chance at winning here tonight. Unlike you," she added pointedly. "Who let Cena beat him. Again."

"Don't tempt me Melina" Randy warned, trying hard to control his temper. "I'm about two seconds away from throwing you our of here as it is."

The crowd burst into laughter as the Undertaker sat up and Jericho ducked back into an isolation chamber to hide. Melina saw the humour in the situation before she realised with horror that now all of Taker's frustrations would be taken out on John. Morrison landed on the grating for a third time, his leg hitting the steel chain walls as he crashed into the side of the demonic structure. John used his wherewithal in the ring to locate the chain hangings and try and pull himself up. Taker grabbed him by the hair and began landing blows on his face before booting him in the head.

John looked exhausted.

Suddenly, Taker picked him up and threw him against the pod that Jericho was hiding in. The force of the blow caused the plexiglass to fall from the frame, John's arm getting caught in the middle. Chris manoeuvred John's arm loose as he frantically closed the door, effectively shutting himself inside.

"Jericho's a wimp."

"No," Randy corrected a frantic Melina who was now almost in tears. "He's smart. John would have done the same in that situation."

John fought valiantly upon the shoulders of the Phenom to escape being power bombed into the ring. Jericho rushed Taker, allowing John to jump up and grab onto the chains and out of harms way. Chris threw Taker into the pod adjacent before John launched himself at Jericho, hitting him with pin point precision. John hit Chris with a running knee before going for the pin.

Jericho kicked out.

John looked to capitalise. What he didn't anticipate was the Undertaker. Taker lifted Morrison out of the ring and choke slammed him onto the harsh steel below. Melina cried out in unison with John, watching as Taker dragged him back onto the mat. All of the blood had drained from her face, the petite wrestler almost shaking as Taker tried to pin her boyfriend. Randy removed his hand from her grip and wrapped an arm tightly around her shoulders as tears began to stream down her face.

"It's okay," he comforted her awkwardly as Taker got the three count. "John's alright. It's all over."

Referee Mike Chioda rolled John off of the mat and onto the steel grate. Charles Robinson helped him from the ring, offering to get another referee to help him up the ramp.

"No," John croaked off camera. "I'm okay. Thanks."

Randy grabbed the remote and clicked the television off as Chris put the Undertaker into the Walls of Jericho. Drawing Melina into a quick hug he pulled back and held her at arms length, hands on her shoulders. "Mel, he's okay. He walked out unassisted. Not even I did that following my first chamber. Everything is okay."

Melina hiccupped, trying to contain herself. "You don't know that."

"That he's okay?" Randy asked stupidly, not used to dealing with an hysterical woman other than his wife. "Mel, he walked away. That's the best possible resolution you could have hoped for, without John winning the belt. He's going to be sore in the morning and it looked like he tweaked his ankle, but he's okay."

"Promise?" She sniffed.

"What? No. What are you, like twelve?" Randy scoffed. Letting go of her shoulders he began to dig in his bag for some tissues. "Here. Wipe your face, drink your Coke and we'll go and wait for John at the trainers. He'll probably have to do a dot com interview before they get him checked out. C'mon."

Melina dutifully followed him into the hall and to the other side of the arena. Various wrestlers stopped them on their way, Randy stopping to make small talk while Melina bounced agitatedly from one foot to the other. After saying his goodbyes, Randy continued on with Melina fidgeting beside him. God, he hoped they were finished examining John by the time they got there. He had the feeling Melina wouldn't be very receptive to waiting.

"Hey Melina, Randy," referee Jack Doan greeted them from outside the trainers where he was waiting to help Rey back to his locker room. "Good match huh?" Melina grunted noncommittally as Randy nodded not so discretely at the door behind him. Jack took the hint, moving to the side as Rey exited. "They're just finishing up with John. Randy, you can go in if you like."

"Melina," Rey greeted. "How did you handle your first chamber?"

Randy snorted over his shoulder as he entered the trainers. "Not well."

"Shut up Randy!" Melina snapped, tears forgotten. "It was harder than I thought it would be," she admitted with defeat. "You looked great out there though."

Rey accepted the compliment and returned it in kind. "John had a fantastic debut in that thing. You shouldn't be ashamed," he dropped his voice. "Angie always gets upset too. You should hear Sam on the phone when she rings Randy after he exits. She's always freaking out about the slightest bump or bit of blood."

"Oh." Somehow, listening to Rey talk about how his wife also struggled with these things made her feel better. She almost felt relieved. "Really?"

"Really. You have it worse than them though," he commented. "You know exactly what could happen because you see injuries around here all the time. You've walked inside that thing. Don't think I didn't see you take a bump in there before the show either. If John finds out Truth took you in there he'll kill you." Melina flushed with embarrassment. "I understand you wanted to know what it feels like," Rey chastised her quietly. "But think about how you felt during that match and imagine how John would feel if you have been injured in the same. You're already injured. Don't make things worse."

"Rey, we should go," Jack interrupted as Randy exited the trainers. "I'm sure Melina wants to see John."

Rey nodded and began to limp away, Randy following after bidding Melina farewell. Swallowing her pride, Melina sighed. "Rey?" The wrestler turned. "Thank you." He nodded, turning around with a small smile. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Melina knocked tentatively on the door, entering when she heard the trainer giving John instructions about his ankle. The pair looked up as she closed the door behind her with a click.

"Hi," she began nervously. "How's it going?"

John grinned weakly. "Hey. I've been better." The trainer made a discrete exit, leaving them alone. "Come here," he patted the empty space of bed beside him. "Sit."

Melina did as she was asked, pushing herself up beside him. "You did great out there," she said truthfully. "I'm so proud of you."

He shrugged. "I went alright."

"You did better than alright," she met his eyes. She reached for his hand, yet he shook his head, indicating it was hurting. He instead placed a hand on her thigh, moving his thumb around in small circles. "Even Randy thought so. Rey said you were great too."

"Okay then," he agreed with a weary smile. "I did great. Thank you." Wincing, he lifted his other arm. He turned slightly, tilting her chin upward. "Mina. You've been crying."

She sighed. "I might have been … a little scared," she conceded. "I was worried you were going to get hurt."

"Oh Mel." Gingerly lifting his hand from her leg he wrapped it around her waist. "Sweetie, I'm fine. A little banged up, but that's to be expected. You weren't freaking out the entire time were you?"

Melina paused. "… Not the entire time."

He didn't believe her for a second. "No?"

"No!" She pushed her bottom lip out into a pout, making him laugh. "Miz kicked me out of the locker room again," she sighed dramatically. "So I may have been forced to kick Dibiase out of Randy's room so I could sequester their flat screen."

John scowled, most likely at the mention of Mike's name. "Remind me to accidentally on purpose leave him behind on the next road trip."

Melina nodded firmly. "Done."

"How's your leg?" He asked suddenly. "Yeah," he nodded as her face turned ashen. "I saw Truth take you out there. I saw you bump on that steel. That was dumb Mel."

"But John," she protested. "I just-"

"No," he cut her off. "It was dumb. Especially when you're hurt. You gotta trust me Mina. I know what I'm doing out there. I'm not saying you don't, because you are an incredibly talented athlete and a phenomenal wrestler. But if you wanted to go out there, if you were going to be all stubborn about it," he sighed with resignation. "I would have taken you. At least then I know you would have been safe."

Melina squirmed, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry."

"So you should be. And hey, " he murmured quietly. "Have some faith in me okay? That was a massive match for me. If I get to do something like that again, it's gonna be a lot easier for me to focus if I know you're cheering me on and not breaking down in tears. I promise I'll do the same for you. Got it?"

"Got it," she sighed.

"Good."

Lowering his left leg to the ground he slid off of the bed, trying hard not to put weight on his right foot. Melina quickly hopped down and slid her arm around his waist to offer him extra support. Loping his arm around her shoulders he knelt down to kiss her gently on the forehead. Cane in his other hand they slowly manoeuvred their way down the hallway and back to their locker room.

"I'm glad you're okay," Melina spoke up shyly as she placed a kiss on his bicep.

"Me too," John grinned. "Oh, I have something to ask you. That okay?"

She nodded in confusion, indicating that he should continue. "Sure. Go ahead."

"Great," John grinned tightly, trying hard not to scowl. "We're totally honest with each other. Right?"

"Right." She agreed, not at all sure of where he was going with this. "Why, what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing."

Melina pushed open the door to their locker room, letting John limp inside.

"Just …" His eyes danced, full of pride and laughter. "Next time one of the Dude Busters hassles you in catering and you decide it's necessary to break his nose? You might want to tell me before the bills start arriving, okay?"

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