Aahh yes! I almost forgot about this story! How dare I! haha. Let's see...right! I dedicate this story to the two coolest chicas on FanFic, Vera and Rachel. (God help Dave and/or Randy if those ever get their hands on 'em.) Yeah, you two have really helped me here on FF and it's very much appreciated :-D I disclaim!

"Take the elevator up to the third floor; you'll see the room number signs." Trish nodded at the secretary sitting at the front desk of Georgetown University Hospital. Her hazel eyes were red and slightly puffy as a result from her crying.

"Okay, thank you," she said with a small smile. Trish walked down to the elevators and pressed the arrow pointing up. While waiting for it to arrive, she leaned against the wall thinking of how just yesterday her life had been almost normal. Almost as in, everything was going right except for one thing.

"Trish, you've got a phone call."

She looked up from her work on her mahogany desk at her own personal secretary. "Could you take a message please, Rachel? I've got so much shit to get done."

Trish Stratus was the vice president of Jewel Fashion in Phoenix, Arizona. Designing was always such a huge part of her life, she knew she somehow had to be involved in the business.

This day was like no other. A warm April afternoon, a meeting in a few hours with a store in LA and now her secretary was telling her she had a call.

"It's Donna…"

She looked back up from her papers, cocking an eyebrow. "What? What happened?"

Rachel shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, she said there was an accident."

Trish ran a hand through her blonde curls. "Okay, I'll take it, thank you," she said, trying to hide the sudden scared tone creeping up to her voice.

She nodded and left the room. Trish grabbed her phone and pressed a button. "This is Trish."

"Trish, it's Donna. Dave's been in an accident."

"Oh my God. Is he alright?"

"It's not good Trish. He's got a severe concussion and he keeps slipping in and out of consciousness."

She clenched her eyes shut as if that would stop the flow of tears. She grabbed a notepad and a pen. "What hospital are you at?"

"Georgetown University, room 348."

She scribbled the information down. "I'll be there as soon as I can." Hanging up the phone, she stood up from her desk, grabbing her briefcase. She put the piece of paper in the pocket of her pin striped blazer. Bursting out of her office, she turned to her secretary. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Reschedule the luncheon and get Greg to cover the meeting today. He's got the sketches." And with that, she left.

There was a small bell sound and the doors slid open. Nobody was in there, thank God. Trish stepped inside and pressed the three until it was illuminated.

What hurts the most
Is being so close
And having so much to say
And watching you walk away
And never knowing
What could have been
And not seeing that loving you
Is what I was trying to do

Trish slammed her finger down to the off on her radio. "Fuckers…" she muttered. It wasn't Rascall Flatts that made her angry, she wasn't even angry. She used her hand to wipe away the hot tears that were streaming down her cheeks. She whipped her Mercedes into a parking space at the Phoenix International Airport. She popped the trunk and went around to grab her suitcase. Thirty-five minutes later, Trish was sitting in a seat inside a plane. Several times she had to go to the bathroom and let out the sobs she kept bottled up inside. After each time, she would check herself in the mirror. Nothing fancy, she had changed into jeans and a gray t-shirt when she rushed home to pack. She wiped away at the invisible mascara she had under her eyes. Sniffing a couple more times, she went out to sit back down for the landing.

And now she was here, at a hospital in Washington DC to come to her ex-boyfriend's side. She stepped off the elevator, looking to the small square signs with numbers on them. She went left, next to the 300-350 sign. All the way down the hall and to the right she found a doctor and another dark haired woman with an olive complexion. She walked up to them catching the last part of the doctor's spiel. "We'll do his surgery at 8 o'clock."

Trish glanced down at her watch, it was 5:45. Donna thanked the doctor and turned to Trish. Trish all but threw herself on her, feeling safe in her arms. She started to cry again and finally pulled away to see Donna's pained face.

"How is he?" Trish asked, trying to peer into the glass window, but only managed to see fragments of the room.

"Oh Trish, he's going to make it, but he's in a bad way. He was hit by a drunk driver." Another choked sob from Trish. "His left leg and the left part of his collar bone are broken. And the left side of his ribs are cracked, some broken."

She pushed a piece of blonde hair out of her face. "Can I see him? Please?"

"Of course you can honey. But Trish, he's not how you remember him."

To hear those words coming from a man's own mother scared Trish more than anything. She swallowed that down along with another batch of tears and nodded. Walking to the door, she placed her small hand on the metal handle, pressing down slowly. She pushed it open and her free hand flew to her mouth, covering the gasp trying to escape. This time, the tears wouldn't stay in. She let the door shut and walked over to Dave. He had a deep cut under his eye and his left cheek was bruised. Trish leaned over him, softly running her hand down his cheek and over his forehead. She crawled on top of the bed on the right side, being extra careful to not hurt him. Resting her head on his massive chest, she let her fingers play with the fabric of his hospital gown.

"I'm so sorry Dave. I'm so sorry," she repeated, letting her tears soak the sheet. "You're going to be okay. The doctors will make sure you're okay. You have to be. Because," she said, reaching up to his face, "we have to be together. And I'm never letting go this time." And suddenly, she wasn't talking to him anymore. "Please God; please don't take him from me."

Screaming, yelling, throwing of expensive breakables, that was what was happening in Dave Batista's house last February. That was the loneliest Valentine's Day either of them had ever spent. Yes Trish dated and Dave did too, but neither of them enjoyed it. As far as Trish was concerned, she was convinced that she went through the day just doing the motions. She felt nothing without him next to her.

He had an even worse time, if that was possible. As long as he lived, he'd never forget the look of hurt he saw on her face the night she found out he met somebody else. But oh how wrong he had been. That was a foolish mistake on his part to ever believe there could be somebody else for him other than Trish. He never cheated. He talked to her, and often. But it was purely talking.

Talking or not, Trish was devastated. She knew in her mind, her heart and her soul that she and Dave belonged together.

It resulted in this for him to realize it. Unconscious or not, he couldn't ignore the fact that the last thought he had on his mind in the collision was Trish.

She rested her hand on his chest, next to her face. She hadn't been to sleep in over 24 hours and it started to take its toll. "I love you Dave," she said in a hushed voice. "Nothing will change that…nothing…" Her voice trailed off as sleep overcame her.

Trish groggily propped herself on her elbows, looking at her surroundings. A sudden rush went through her bringing back the past two days. She was in a hospital bed, but no Dave. She sat up with a start and found Donna sitting across the room, reading, rather flipping, through a magazine. Trish glanced at the clock on the wall that read 12:25. Dave's surgery was at 8 she remembered.

Hearing the sheets rustle, Donna turned her head. She looked incredibly tired. "Hi sweetie, did you sleep okay?"

"Where's Dave?"

"Still in surgery."

"Why didn't you wake me?"

"You looked exhausted, sweetheart. I didn't want to wake you."

Trish let her body sag with a sigh. At that moment, the same female doctor came in. She pulled up another chair and glanced from Trish to Donny. "He's in recovery; the surgery went better than expected."

"Dr. –" Donna started, but stopped from the smile she was given. "Vera, what all was wrong?"

"His leg was broken in two places, more than ¾ of his left ribs were cracked, and his clavicle was broken as well. However, the swelling from the concussion has disappeared entirely as if it wasn't even there. I expect a full recovery." Vera smiled again and then looked to Trish. "Something leads me to believe part of this was from you."

Trish looked down, trying to hide the blush attempting to creep up to her cheeks. "Why's that?"

"I would be willing to bet that you talked to him." Trish nodded. "That stimulates the brain"

For the first time in a long time, she smiled a genuine smile. "When can we see him?"

"He's still in recovery, but I imagine with how well he did during surgery he'll be out sooner than later. He'll come back here afterwards to rest."

Donna stood up. "Thank you Vera for everything you've done for him. I, and I know Trish, really appreciates it." The doctor nodded and headed for the door.

As soon as she left, Donna looked over at Trish. "Do you want something to eat?"

"No thank you."

"Okay, I'm going to run down to their cafeteria real quick and see what they have. I'll bring you back something just in case."

"Thank you Donna."

The older woman smiled and left. Trish was alone now. She got off the bed and walked over to a small radio in the window. She turned it on and was looking out the window when the door opened. This time it was a couple of nurses wheeling Dave back in.

"He's still groggy from the anesthetic," one nurse informed.

Trish nodded as they got him back to his old position in the room. They left shortly after and she walked over to his side. Taking his large hand she said, "Hey baby. The doctor said you did great. She also said that -"

"That your talking to me was the best medicine I could ever have."

Trish's eyes widened at the sound of his voice. And even more so when he turned his head to face her with a smile. She returned it, accompanied by tears.

"C'mere," he said and she climbed on top of the bed next to him. "I missed you Trish, I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," she said, sniffing.

"I heard everything you said earlier. And we will make things work. I am so sorry for everything I did. I was such a jackass to you. I was so stupid, Trish."

She shook her head no. "It doesn't matter anymore. That was then, this is now and I know you realize what happened was wrong but Dave, I forgive you."

"You're too good for me Trish, I don't deserve you."

She laughed lightly. "Don't go there, because I don't deserve you either. I've been so miserable without you. Nothing is the same; every day is so boring to me."

"I felt the same, but now you're here and it's like nothing's changed between us."

She leaned forward more so that she was closer to his face. "And nothing will change. I love you Dave."

He smiled and pressed his hand on her face. "I love you Trish." He slipped his finger under her chin and brought her closer to his lips to kiss her.

She was enjoying the feeling of his lips on hers after so long and then her ears picked up the song on the radio.

I think about the years I spent just passing through
I'd like to have the time I lost and give it back to you
But you just smile and take my hand
You've been there you understand
It's all part of a grander plan that is coming true
Every long lost dream led me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Pulling back for a short second, she muttered with a smile, "Fuckers…" And then she went back to Dave's lips.