Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize and probably nothing you don't.

Author's Note: This story takes place during the 6/14 episode of Smackdown! (otherwise known as the one where Stone Cold starts beating Spike into a bloody pulp because he ripped up his petition). The fic explores what might have happened if Jericho and Benoit had not come out to help Spike and Molly. The song is 'Can't See(Useless)' by Boingo.

Useless

     Stone Cold had finished the match, and Molly watched his back retreat up the ramp.
     Spike lay in the middle of the ring, breathing heavily. Molly's face crept into his line of vision. "Spike? Spike, what can I do to help?" She asked. Tears glittered in her eyes - tears for him, a realization that both thrilled and pained him. Spike gave her a weak smile.
     "I'm okay, Molly. Really. You don't need to do anything - just stay with me. Don't leave me alone." Spike said hoarse.

     Molly smiled down at him. "I would never leave you alone, I promise. Never."

//We were both cast forth
From the same pale hands
And we both moved freely
In the shadowlands//


     Spike tried to sit up, and gasped as pain shot through him. "I think he smashed one of my ribs," Spike breathed softly.
     "I'm getting you the EMTs, Spike. This is too much." Molly looked around frantically, looking for the medics. There were none in sight. Damn it! Where was everybody?
She looked back to Spike. Bruises were already forming on his pale face, marring his boyish appearance. Molly looked around the arena wildly, now searching for anyone, anyone at all, who could help.
     Her eyes fell on the ramp. Stone Cold hadn't gone yet. In fact, he was looking back at them, and the look on his face told her, very clearly, that he was not finished with the youngest Dudley.

//And we both were sculpted
By the same cold wind
And we both had armor that was made from tin//

     The look that his eyes held - insanity, fury, hatred - chilled Molly to the bone. But she forced herself to tear her eyes away from his and back to her fallen boyfriend.
     "Where does it hurt, Spike?" Molly asked him. She still didn't know the extent of his injuries, but she was guessing extreme severity.
    "Why? You gonna kiss it better?" Spike asked, grinning. Molly gave a half - hearted chuckle. "Please?" Spike added, voice soft, making her smile.
    "Only if you want me to," Molly joked back. She was smiling at his jokes, making ones of her own only to soothe him. She still watched Stone Cold out of the corner of her eye, deeply worried about Spike. It stung her to seem him hurt like this, just as bad as if she'd put her own hand on a stove. But instead of her hand burning, it was her heart.

//And I tried to speak
But it's useless
And I felt so bad
And I didn't know why
And it didn't get better
As time went by//


     Stone Cold was coming back towards them. Molly didn't even see him until he jumped in the ring - carrying a steel chair.

    "No!" She cried out, throwing herself out of the way by instinct as Stone Cold brought the chair down.
    Oh no. God no. It hit Spike. She'd let Stone Cold hit Spike.
    Molly turned back to the ring Stone Cold brought the chair down. Again. And again. And again. And again. He slammed the edge of it into Spike's stomach, his shoulders, his legs, his head, his face, his hips, his arms, his chest.
   Molly winced with every impact. She heard a voice screaming every time Stone Cold brought the chair down – and was shocked to realize that voice was her own.

//I was there for you
But you turned away
And I tried to find you
But you turned away//


    Stone Cold paraded around the ring, waving the chair and his title belt in the air, one in each hand. He paraded around the ring.
     Molly dove back into the ring, back to Spike. One thought was on her mind: Help him!
She leaned over him. "Spike. Oh my God, Spike, are you…?" Molly whispered, setting her hand on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, staring up at her.

    "Molly," He whispered.
    "We've got to get you out of here. Stone Cold has snapped," Molly said. And that was when Stone Cold turned back to them.

//And I tried to find you but it's useless
And I tried to speak but it was useless//


     Molly tried to shelter Spike with her own body, covering him. She held her hands up to Stone Cold, almost like a prayer. "That's enough! You hear me? Enough! Please stop! That's enough already!" But Austin didn't listen to her pleas. In fact, He rose the chair again... and brought it swinging down on Molly.

//And I tried to find you but it's useless
And you're so close but I can't see you
And you're right there
But I can't see you//


     Spike was barely holding onto consciousness. In fact, the only thing that he could think was that he had to defend Molly. He tried to move, tried to save her – and found that even basic motion was taxing to his weakened body.
    He couldn't see her. She was draped over him, trying to shield him from Stone Cold. He smiled to himself, disoriented. She wanted to save him. She would let herself get hurt to save…hurt. Molly, hurt? No! She couldn't do this. She shouldn't do this for him. She was going to get herself killed…

//And I felt so dumb
and I don't know what to do
You were right there
and I can't see you
And I realize that it's useless//


     Stone Cold raised the chair again and again. It hit Molly, on the head, on the back, on the legs. He swung the chair against her head, again and again. Molly lost consciousness almost instantly.

     Rose, fell. Rose, fell. Rose, fell. The chair had it's own twisted rythym as it struck her.
Stone Cold couldn't do this. Stone Cold wasn't allowed to do this. He couldn't hit Molly like that - Molly was Spike's girlfriend. He loved her…

//And I want to fight
but it's useless
And I know you're there
but it's useless//

     With his last bit of strength, Spike rolled over, on top of Molly. 'To protect her... to protect her... I got to protect her,' Spike thought, all too aware of the pain that was beginning to numb his limbs and extremities.
     Stone Cold kept with the rythym of the chair, not stopping for a second.
Spike felt the blows, over and over. On his back and head, over and over. Slamming the wind out of him. Tearing at him. Making him bleed. His head was split, dribbling blood into his hair and on his face.

//And you're everywhere
but it's useless
And I tried to say it,
but my tongue got tied//


    There was no way he was getting out of this. It was that simple, and it struck him swiftly as Austin's chair. Something stirred deep inside him, a feeling of doom, a feeling of last wishes, of leftover promises.
     He tried to look at Molly. His eyes were unfocused from so many hits to the head. "I love you," He choked out to Molly's oblivious face.

//And I tried to say it
But I was numb inside//


    Stone Cold lifted the chair again, slamming it down on Spike's head. He struck again. And again.

//And I can't see you anymore
And my peace of mind has gone through the door//


     Spike could no longer see. His own blood was clumped in his hair, streaming in his eyes, streaming onto Molly. 'Got to keep her safe. Got to keep her safe.' He thought. He didn't even realize that he was mumbling the words.

//And I realize that it's useless
And I thought I was right but it's useless
And I know you're there but it's useless//


     Spike could hear Molly's muffled breathing. He could feel the thump of Austin's chair. It was a sick pattern, but it kept him there, kept him focused on a purpose – keep her from getting hurt. The pattern stopped being a series of sounds, and suddenly mutated into a bizarre orchestra of his own ruin.


//And you're everywhere
But it's useless//


     Thump. Gasp. Thump. Gasp. Thump. Gasp.

//And I can't see now in front of my nose
And I know you're there
And I know you're close//

     Spike felt Molly's gasps for breath get harsher and harsher.

//And I know you're close
But you're fading away
Now you disappear//


    Thump. Gasp. Thump. Gasp. Thump. Gasp. SLAM.

//And I don't know why I feel this way
And I can't control myself anyway
And I don't know why I feel this way
And I can't control myself anyway//


    Austin tossed the chair away, grabbing the ten pounds of gold and leather that Spike had so coveted before the match. He brought it down on the back of Spike's blood splattered head, the hardest and harshest blow by far. Spike's body went limp. His eyes shut.
     The ring was totally silent as a moment as Austin stood on each seperate turnbuckle, holding his belt up high. His music wasn't playing - not a sound could be heard. Even Tazz and Michael Cole had fallen silent.
    The moment passed, and Tazz rushed into the ring. Michael followed, checking the pulses of the two fallen lovers.
    Stone Cold swung the belt, aiming for Tazz. "You want this? You want this?" Stone Cold shouted. "No one's getting it. I'm the WWF Champion! I'm Stone Cold Steve Austin! No one's taking this away from me, especially not some snot nosed punk!"
    Tazz avoided the blow, and struggled against him.

//And I feel so bad, but it's useless
And I feel so bad, but it's useless
And I feel so bad, but it's useless
And I can't see...//


    At the top of his lungs, Michael was shouting for security. Molly's eyes opened for a moment at the sound of the noise. "Spike?" She rasped, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
    "Uh... He's going to be okay. Both of you are," Micheal said, reassuring her. Molly turned her head as much as she could to look at Spike. She reached a hand out, touching his face.       "Spike..." She fell into blackness, her hand falling to his chest.

//And I feel so bad
but it's useless
And I feel so bad
but it's useless//


     When Molly was roughly thrown back into reality, with that confused whiplash of now forgotten dreams, she didn't know where she was. "What..." She mumbled.
    The next thing she saw was a doctor rushing over, bending over her. "You're lucky, young lady. You don't know how lucky," The Doctor shook his head. "A very unfortunate thing, that was..."
    Molly felt sick, like her stomach had dropped out. "Where's Spike?" She demanded.

    "Well... he's..." The doctor squirmed uncomfortably.
    "Where is he?" Molly shouted as loud as she could, trying desperately to ignore the protest that went up in her head.
    "He's...here, but he's..." The Doctor began.
    Molly pulled herself out of bed. She nearly collapsed. The doctor rushed over to support her.
    "You aren't strong enough to walk yet, and you shouldn't be out of bed." He said sternly.
    "I need to find Spike," Molly snapped. "Take me to him. You know where he is. Take me there."
    The Doctor looked very torn. "Fine," He finally resigned. He helped her walk out of the room, taking her down the hall to a room on the very end. Molly felt pain shooting through her body - but it didn't matter. She needed to see Spike.
     Molly rushed into the room, pulling away from the doctor. She stopped just in the doorway. She could barely see him inside the circle of nurses and doctors that surrounded him. Blood was matted in his hair and on his face, and his nose was smashed. Molly approached the bed silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. She didn't feel capable of speaking right now.
     A nurse looked up at her. "Miss, you can't be in here. Miss!" She said.
     Molly ignored her. "Spike," she whispered.
    The Doctor followed her in. "You need to get back to bed. You shouldn't see this, this will just upset you." He said gently. "We'll take care of him. He'll be perfectly –"
         "He has…concussion… danger of an aneurysm… he might… we have to… be careful, he's…" A flurry of phrases bombarded her.

     "His heartbeat's slowing!" Exclaimed a nurse.
      Molly heard the beep - beep - beep of the heart monitor. She saw as it turned from twisting, living, zig - zagging patterns to a straight green line.
     "He's..." Molly heard someone begin before her world dropped out from under her.

//And I can't see...
Now in front of my face//