Luckiest Man Alive
Disclaimer: If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing about it now would I?
A/N: I cannot believe how many unposted stories I have in my notebooks, depriving readers of enjoyment of them. Guess I'll have to post them faster then huh?
Shawn screamed as the belt snapped acrosshis back again, immediately follow by a hard kick. His whole back was just a mess of welts, cuts, and bruises, not to mention pain. He could barely move without getting a sharp stab of pain in return.
Shane brought the belt down again as his father kicked Shawn. Shawn arched his back in pain. His vision blurred as a harsh wave of pain swept over him, seemingly dragging him under. Vaguely he notice that the beating had ceased. He saw a figure attacking his attackers. He could feel his conciousness slipping farther away as the figure hovered over him. The voice was like a distant echo. He felt someone shaking him but his head felt heavy and the pain guided toward the darkness.
"Shawn! Shawn!" The voice echoed instistantly. He finally registered it.
"Hu...nt...er." he rasped before surrendering to the darkness.
Hunter's POV
"Hu...nt...er." his voice is hoarse and then he goes limp. Shawn is out cold. I yell to the referee to call for the paramedics. Shawn is bleeding from his back, his nose, his forehead, and his left arm. I curse the McMahons for doing this to him.
I help the paramedics load Shawn onto a stretcher and follow at a run as they wheel him up the ramp.
Shawn's POV
Darkness. Unyeilding, inpennitrable, sacred darkness. It engulfs me, blinds me, shelters me. Then pain. In my head, my back, my arm, my chest, all over. What in the hell did I do? Then it comes to me, a wave of memory so forceful that it threatens to throw me back into the abyss of unconciousness. The McMahons, the beating, Hunter, passing out. I groan as the flashing images confuse me and make me nauseous at the same time.
"Shawn? You awake?" the voice slices through the darkness like a sharp knife through bread. I slowly open my eyes, flinching as the bright lights, strange sounds, and sharp smells invade my senses. I look around. I'm in a sterilized, white hospital room.
"Hunter?" I say, catching sight of him.
"I'm here Babe, its alright." he moves closer to me.
"How bad?" I ask, closing my eyes.
"Not bad actually. Your back is bruise and a bit cut up, few bruised ribs, that sorta thing. You lost a fair amount of blood though. The doc said you could leave as soon as you woke up." I smile and sit up, wincing. Hunter helps me up and into my clothes.
Normal POV
"How long was I out?" Shawn asked as Hunter tied his shoe for him.
"Two hours." he said, straighting up. "Lets go, Dave's here to give us a ride."
Hunter lead him out of the hospital and into the parking lot where Dave stood by a black Corvette.
"You alright Shawn?" Dave asked. Shawn smiled.
"Fine, ain't nothin new." he said, sounding quite like the Texas Redneck he was. (Who says that's a bad thing?) Dave laughed and they got into the car.
At the hotel, Hunter and Shawn went straight to their room, ignoring questions from everyone. Shawn collapsed on the bed with a pained groan, he hurt all over. Hunter walked over and took him into his arms.
"Shhh its alright Love, why don't you get some sleep?"
"Can't." Shawn grunted. "hurt too much." Hunter pulled him closer and lay down with him, running his hands through Shawn's hair. He gently began to massage Shawn's neck and shoulders, easing the tension and discomfort from the smaller man's body. Shawn sighed. It felt so good to be loved like this. No matter how bad he felt, Hunter would always make him feel better. He felt like, no, he was the luckiest man alive.
END