Honestly, I never thought I would do a wrestling fic like this. I wanted it to be small; to show that I could write a short story with a point, but that stupid mind of mine wanted a story with chapters and this is the product. I am terribly sorry about the length. I have a plan in my head, and it called for this part to have both Raw and Smackdown! In this part.

Disclaimer-naw, I don't own WWF so please don't sue! I mention the Backstreet Boys and a few of their songs, so I don't own them or the song (my all time favorite!) "That's What She Said."

Again, I don't remember a lot that happened in those two nights, so please point out where I made a mistake and I'll correct it. Kurt didn't have a concussion, I made it up. Steph and Shane didn't really steal his bag; they didn't kiss and so forth. This took quite a while to write, so please be nice and sorry about the spelling mistakes. I'm not good with spelling. I'm thirteen and I can't spell the number. I make myself sick. A lot of bad words, so that's why its PG-13, Kay? R/R

~Blazer~

WHICH WAY WILLL HE GO? -PART TWO

CHAPTER THREE

Raw Is War

Monday, July 16, 2001

You walked right into it. I can't help you."

That's what she said. Isn't that a song? I think it's by the Backstreet Boys or something like that. I remember my niece (who is in love with the guys) singing it to me over the telephone one day, because "the song rules and Brian co-wrote it, Uncle Kurt, and it is so pretty!" Brian? Whatever that means.

"You walked right into it. I can't help you."

She said that to me on Smackdown!. She came up close to the turnbuckle I was laying against after receiving a 3-d and being hammered at by two guys from ECW and two guys from WCW. She leaned in to my ear. She had a wicked smile on her face. If you saw it from somewhere else, it looked like she was yelling at her guys, cheering them on. But she was talking to me, and above the roar in my ears and above the roar of the crowd, I heard her.

"You walked right into it. I can't help you."

The words hurt. They hurt like being Pedigreed through J.R.'s table (which I have been. Just ask Triple H. I'm sure he'll want to gloat about it.), mixed with being 3-deed through a table (ask the Dudleys. They'll want to talk about it.) mixed in with seeing my brother also being put through a table (read this all, and I'll give you Erick's number. That's his only claim to fame so he'll wantta brag.) mixed in with landing on no one after a fifteen foot Moonsault (Hehe.) and a couple of Stone Cold Stunners thrown in (Errr...this guy is on my team.)

She couldn't help me? I love her and she can't help me? Now is that my fault? Is that my fault that I happen to be on the same team that is against her team? I wanted to get out of it. I wish that I could have gotten out of it.

She came up to me earlier today. I was peeling the bandage on my chin off. It was just a little cut, I figured out, that just wanted to bleed. I held my chin cautiously, but it didn't bleed. I'm sore, but besides that, I'm fine. I've got a bruise on my leg, but that's all right.

"Kurt?"

Damn. I'm sitting in my locker room. I share it with Edge and Christian (a.k.a. Adam and Jay). Sure, the TV says we never made up after King of the Ring, but we did. We're too good of friends to let that stand in your way. Rhyno wasn't really their friend from the get-go, but oh well.

She's peeking her head in. Her beautiful face is flushed, and I see Shane and Paul Heyman behind her. My temper is flaring, but I nod. "Hey, Steph. Come on in. You too, Weiner Boys." Weiner Boys? Don't ask where that came from.

She smiles dutifully. She and her friends walk in. Stephanie is leading. Shane seems to want to keep his distance. Fine. I kicked his ass last week, and I'll do it again if I had the chance. I'm sitting on a bench and the three of them form a circle around me. "Hi. What do you want?"

She's still smiling and my heart aches. "Hi, Kurt! Feeling okay? Feeling good? Sorry about what happened last Thursday. But...you walked right into it."

"Yeah!" Shane pipes up. Stephanie gives him a dirty look, then turned to Paul.

"We've come to with an offer," he said with a smirk on his face. "To come to WCW and we'll make you WCW champ."

Am I hearing right? What? They want me to defect to WCW? I've never been in WCW or ECW. I was drafted right away by WWF, and they wanted me. After the Olympics, I stayed idle for about three years and I had already been approached by WWF. I didn't call them again until I saw a TV program. I fell in love and they still wanted me.

I had no desire to go to WCW.

"What?"

"You heard him," Shane growled. "You heard him. Listen up. You come to your WCW, and you'll win the WCW championship from Booker T. automatically."

"I have a contract."

"And I have money to buy your contract from my father."

Hehe. Well, the guy did have money. Lots and lots of it. He could buy my contract from Vince, and Vince could let me go. He would get his money. I would get to be the WCW champ. I would be a star. "And you would be on the team for Invasion," Stephanie added, seeing my reluctant. Shane's face contorted, but he nodded.

"I'm on the team in this company," I pointed out.

"But you're not the star," Paul said. "You could be the star without Austin around."

The star...the leader.... I've always wanted to be the leader of the team.... I wanted to be the leader...to be in the spotlight....

"And there is so much we can give to you Kurt," Stephanie said softly, stepping to my side and putting her hand on the nape of my neck. Tingles ran up and down my spine as I stared up at her.

"I-"

I couldn't finish. They had closed the door when they came in, but now it opened and the Undertaker (Mark Callaway)'s head popped into the room. "Do you know where the hell-" he started. He took in the scene and suddenly as evil grin rose on his face. "I think I'll go tell Vince." He closed the door.

"MARK!" I screamed, leaping up. I raced to the door and threw it open. "Mark, don't! Don't! MARK!" I didn't care that Stephanie was gaping at me or that all three of them we're in there alone with my gym bag and all my things.

As I raced after the Undertaker, I heard Shane's voice call out.

"We'll talk later!"

Shit.

=================

How I managed to talk Mark out of talking to Vince, I'll never know. I know that it was hard, but what I said to him is all a blur now. It sucks. It really really sucks. I probably agreed to something that I'll regret later, but at the moment I don't care.

My gym bag is missing. I know who took it. Adam and Jay wouldn't take it and besides them, no one else had been in the locker room. Three people. They had thrown my boots and the rest of my ring attire (medals included) into a locker. But the gym bag and whatever else I had had in there was gone.

I didn't have anything really important in there, just some old plane tickets, a copy of my contract (I like being sure of things. I'll get another one) that I always carry with me, a pre-ordered copy of my book (signed, I might add. I can always get another one) cologne, you know, stuff like that. I really needed to shave, and my razor was in there, so I guess that's a major crisis. I ended up having to borrow Edge's, which is kind of gross, but I didn't have any other choice.

As I hunt after Stephanie and Paul Heyman and Shane, I still can't help wonder why'd they take it. I'd already made up my mind about what to do about the WCW. I'm not leaving. WWF has given me my career, my money, the chance to do my thing. I don't turn my back on that. Even though I could have profited from defecting, I won't do it. I just won't.

I run into Jay. "Jay, are you positive no one else has been in the locker room?" I ask again. His face twisted, and I got a feeling he was getting tired of this. After all, this was a hunt for a gym bag that had cost only ten bucks at the most. His own bag cost thirty dollars, but it was a good gym bag if you know what I mean.

"Yes, Kurt, I'm positive!" His voice is loud. He paced in front of me like a caged animal. His wacky sunglasses are perched on his forehead and on the verge to fall off. "Kurt, only you, me and Adam and Steph and her guys have been in the locker room. So what if they took your gym bag? No biggie. For cryin' out loud, Angle, I was with you when you bought it, you cheapy!"

Cheapy?

"But-"

"Hey, how about this: maybe Steph wanted to keep it as a souvenir! Eh? Since she's married and all. She probably has a shrine dedicated to you, Kurt." He grinned stupidly at me.

Please. I know Stephanie. She's not one to build shrines to people she likes like that girl on that TV show 'Hey, Arnold!'. Nope. She rather shows her expression than hide it. And she wouldn't steal my gym bag for a trashy reason like that. She's too classy for that. She was raised in a mansion with people that loved her, and she wouldn't stoop as low as to steal a gym bag. Some other more important thing, sure, but not a bag. It would be too cheap for her, anywise.

I shake my head at Jay. "Naw. Good luck in your match. Tell Adam I say good-luck. See ya."

"Bye, Kurt!" he yells as I walk away.

Aww! The Great Search For Stephanie continues.

================

I have a match against Raven tonight, ECW rules. That kid is going to feel my frustration wither he wants too or not. He thinks ECW rules. Yeah right. WWF rules! ECW sucks!

I think she knows that I'm looking for her. I've run into some guys from WCW and ECW and I've asked about her, but they look around for a minute, smile, then tell me no and to mind my own business and to stay from away from their company.

If that isn't hiding something then I don't know what is. I'm running around like a dog chasing my tail. No, the gym bag isn't that important to me, its just that I want to know what why they took it. If they wanted to bag, I would have given it to them for ten dollars. I would have given it to them for free. Then I'd have an excuse to go and buy a new bag.

Where did they go? My match is in ten minutes and I still haven't found them! Not Paul, not Shane, not Stephanie. I need an Aspirin. Please!

So pocessed in the search for my medicine, I ran into somebody. He grunts. His belly is big and his black hair is tied in a ponytail under a soft brown hat. "Paul! Where the hell is my bag!" I demanded.

Paul Heyman is standing in front of me like an idiot, gaping. "Kurt, hi!" he cried. Na-uh. Don't give me that. He's not my friend and I've never liked him. "Kurt, have you thought about the offer? I mean-"

"Where's my bag, Heyman? I know you took it!"

"Now, Kurt! What in the world are you talking about?" His voice is covered with fake innocence. His eyes are wide and pleading.

"My bag! I know you or Shane or Stephanie took it! That's an offense that I can have arrested for! Paul, just give me the bag. I want my stuff back." Yeah, right.

"Me and Shane and Stephanie didn't take it! Where could you have gotten that idea from? I'm hurt, Kurt, I'm really hurt. Ask those fools of friends Edge and-"

Before he can say anymore, I've grabbed his shoulders and pushed him against a wall, sweat tickling down my face and dripping onto his coat. "Now, Paul," I said, my voice low and dangerous, "If you call Adam and Jay fools again, I'm going to make you wish you dead. Got that?"

He gaps at me, nodding. He's been drinking. I smell the beer on his breath. "Good. Now, where's my gym bag, and why did you take it?"

I almost got an answer out of him, I almost did. His eyes were rounder and he was pale white. Paul may be the smartest bastard in the world, but he's not a wrestler and I hate to think what would happen to him if we had a brawl right then and there. I hate him.

I don't get an answer. A camera guy is tugging impatiently on my arm. "Angle! Angle! You're match is in three minutes! They need you! Kurt! Kurt!"

Angrily I rip my arms off Paul and slug the guy away. He stumbles back, then runs like a scared dog into the darkness. I turn back to the shaking Paul once again. "This isn't over, Paul. This is far from over." I slam my fist into the wall to make my point, then hold it in front of him, shaking it. "This isn't over."

==================================

I won my match, showing the fans the side of me that no one wants to ever mess with. The part of me that is dangerous and no one ever wants to mess around with. The part of me that I keep a close handle on and hate to let out. The part of me that I myself hate.

I left Raven lying in the ring, his hands curled up under him, his face pressed firmly into the mat. The fans were cheering, chanting my name. Great. Now I'm a baby face. I like being a heel, believe it or not, but that's the way it goes.

I'm always tired after my matches and tonight is no exception. My body is sore, my legs not really wanting to walk. I needed beer. I wearily drag myself to the locker room, where Adam and Jay are waiting for me.

"Hey, Kurt, great match!" Adam crows. If you want to know where those two got their names, you're going to have to ask a shrink. They claim that the names came to them in a dream. Doesn't that only work in movies?

"Yeah, you won!" Jay's jumping about. "Wanna go to that place where Austin is and we can all have a drink together! What's it called? The Friendly Tap?"

"Like hell you're going somewhere!" Chris Jericho's head pops into the room.

"Hi, Chris," I welcome him. Yeah, we're casual friends. We have to be. We're on the same team. There's some tension between E&C and Jericho. At Judgement Day, Jericho and Benoit cost them their tag title shot. "Settle down."

"Hi, Kurt," Jericho says slowly, sarcastically to Adam and Jay as if they were idiots that didn't deserve a welcome. "Classy is here." Ahhh. The great "Classy" Freddy. Gotta love that guy. "The whole roster is supposed to be in a room and Classy's going to give us a little pep talk. Rumor has it that WCW and ECW are going to interfere with Taker and Kane's match against DDP and Rhyno. " He's looking directly at me. So it was Team WWF to save the day. Isn't that something?

"We're here, too," Jay scoffed.

"Oh, yeah. You-"

"Chris!"

"Sure, Kurt. See ya later." He leaves as Adam and Jay throw him daggers with his eyes.

"You guys need to get a life. That was a month ago!"

"Have you forgiven Triple H?" Adam asks. "Have you forgiven him for the fact that he took Stephanie away from you." I see Adam means no harm and is only trying to make a point, but it strikes a nerve deep down inside of me at the remembrance of that event and what Stephanie wants me to do now. I didn't tell them about that. I wouldn't tell anybody about that (except the damn Undertaker, who would have told Vince about Heyman and his kids talking to me if I haven't given him a decent explanation. I don't lie well, believe it or not. Not at the spur of the moment, anyways.)

My face contorts in rage and in pain. The sting of what she did is sill fresh in my mind and it won't go away. And I don't want to be reminded of what Hunter did. "Shut it!" I yelled, storming to where my jacket is lying and snatching it up. "Just shut up!"

"Kurt, I –"

"I told you shut-up!" I can tell Adam looks really sorry. He knows that I hate what Hunter did and that Stephanie can never be mine. But I hate them, I them both at the moment. Not even bothering to take a breather, I storm to the door, cruthing my jacket and slipping it on. "I'm going to another locker room!"

I shut the door and the slam echoes through the hallway. Angrily I stalk through the halls, pain and anger flowing off of me. I ran into the APA. My face must have showed my mood, because they looked at me, then quickly left, scurrying down the hall.

I'm looking for an empty locker room. Most of them are taken by our guys and that sucks because I want to be myself. I want to sulk alone, let my anger and pain bury itself inside of me to a place where I have a steady harness on it. Right now I'm willing to beat the hell out of anybody who wants a fight.

I've reached the first locker room that doesn't have a sticker on it claiming it to be somebody's. Good. I don't knock and slam the door open.

Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley and Shane McMahon are standing above a bench, looking down at my open stolen gym bag.

"Kurt!" Stephanie cries. Shane's face is getting redder by the moment, and his eyes are wide and glittering with anger, an endless pit. The anger inside of me is burning like and inferno and Shane is there, right there, the one who stole my gym bag, someone who wants a fight. I'll take him now.

Shane's the one who takes the first step towards me. "Don't you know how to knock, Wuss?" he asks, taking one more step. In two strides I cover the space between us and am standing face to face with him, my face inches from his.

"Shane! Kurt! Don't fight!" Stephanie forces her way between us and she puts a hand on Shane's chest, one on mine. At the feel of her cool hand on my bare chest, my mind snaps crazily and another pain strikes down deep in my heart. Longing.

"Why did you take my bag?" I growl at Shane. He's as red as a tomato. A bright red baby cherry tomato. "I want my stuff back. Why did you take my bag?" My voice is low and dangerous, just as it had been when I had talked to Paul Heyman. "Maybe I won't beat your ass if you tell me why you took my bag."

That's it. Shane swings his fist at me. I catch it easily. He's so weak. Doubt flashes in his eyes. I laugh. "You're not trained, Wonder Boy." I sneer at him as Stephanie takes Shane's wrist from my grasp and lets it drop. "Anytime, anywhere, Shane."

"Then right here!" Shane pushes Stephanie out of the way and jumps at me, taking my by surprise. I stagger a couple of feet, then regain my balance. Shane is on me with punches and kicks, which hurt a bit. Shane had Adidas on, and they don't hurt. All it takes is one well-planted kick with my ring-boots to his ribs and he's on the floor, leaning against bench, his head rolling back.

I advance towards him slowly, a sick smile on my face. His mouth is now twisted with fear. I'm mad and Shane just made me madder. He looked at his sister; standing behind me is helplessness. "She can't help you," I said. "She can't."

But, oh, did she help him.

I was walking to Shane, that smile leaving. Before I know what's what, Stephanie slid in front of me, blocking Shane. "Stephanie, just-"

Before I can finish, she grabs my neck, her hands meeting at the back of it. Her eyes are glittering, and a beautiful smile is on her face. She pulls me down towards her, and her mouth is on mine the next second.

A need burst inside of me like a spring. Her mouth … on mine … she was kissing me … not the other way around … she wants this…

I'm not kissing her back. I should but I'm not. She's married, my mind is shouting. She's married, but yet I won't pull away

Her tongue pries my lips open and her tongue is on mine. My body reacts before I can think. My arms slide around her waist and I pull her closer. Does she want this as much as I want it or is it just my imagination? Her hands slide down to the small of my back and pull me closer. On of her hands goes to my head and runs through my hair. We lean a bit to the side, my arm holding her light body. Another one of her hands is on my chest, roaming around.

We're staggering towards the door. I know this but the only thing I'm concentrating on is her mouth on mine and her hands on me. I don't care where Shane is. I don't want him here.

Suddenly she releases me, my mouth lingering on her. She pushes me forward and the next moment the door is slamming my face and locking.

=============================

"And further more, our fate is in your hands! Get up! Get up!" "Classy" Freddy's Blassie voice is booming through the room filled with tables and with almost the entire WWF roster. The injured ones, like Triple H, the suspended one like the Rock, the ones who are off for personal reasons like Eddie Guerrero, and the ones who just plain don't want to be here like Austin aren't here, ofcourse.

We have been in this meeting for the last five minutes. The Undertaker, Vince McMahon, the APA, and "Classy" Fred have the job of motivating us. So far it was working with all the other guys. Including Adam and Jay, sitting across the room from me. But it hadn't been working for me.

I wanted to show my leadership, I wanted to show that I was ready Invasion. So I leapt up with the others, and we roared, "Yes! Yes!" Then the Undertaker and Kane marched down to the ring for their match with Rhyno and DDP. Me, the two Hardys, the APA, Jericho, and a couple of other superstars lined behind the curtain as Kane and the Undertaker walk out and down the ramp. We're lucky that DDP and Rhyno don't see us as they also walk down.

Jericho is standing next to me. He's breathing hard from his match against Booker T. that he should have won. This sucks. He pokes me in the ribs and I look at him. "Angle?" I nodded at him. "Angle, why were you in Shane and Stephanie's locker room?" He's saying this quietly so that none of the others can hear.

He saw me. I gulped. "That…that wasn't their room. I just wanted to get away by myself for awhile. Adam and Jay were kind of getting on my nerves." I told you I'm not a good liar, and by the way Jericho was looking at me, I knew I wasn't going to get any better. "Honest!"

"Kurt, I ran into Paul before I saw you. He was drunk. Real drunk. I talked to him a bit, and he told me what locker room Shane was in. He was that drunk. I wanted to give Shane a piece of my mind for what happened tonight." His lips curved into a frown. "And I saw you leaning forward, and then you come jumping out, and the door slammed in your face. What happened in there, Kurt?"

Annoyance and more pain flash inside of me. "Nothing, Chris. I just-um-well…they wanted to talk to me about something and Shane wanted to fight so I knocked him down a bit. He's not exactly champion material." My laugh sounded hollow.

Chris is just staring at me. "I know you're lying," he said matter-of-factly. "You don't exactly lie too well. So, what happened? I won't tell anybody. I promise." And promises are always broken, II thought. Stephanie promised Hunter she wouldn't do anything with me and she just did. (That's true! I heard her telling that thing to Hunter a bit after Summerslam!)

So I look right back at Chris, careful not to blink. He stared back and then a hand shook me. "What are you guys doing?" Jeff Hardy is asking. Rainbow Head. That's Adam and Jay's pet name for him. Contrary to popular belief, E&C and the Hardy Boyz are actually good friends. You don't want to know what Jeff calls them. You just don't.

"Trying to get Kurt-" Chris starts.

"To teach him how to do my ankle lock!" Where did that come from? Now both Chris and Jeff are looking at me like I'm the craziest person they've met. "Right, Chris? He's jealous. The Lion Tamer just isn't working these days."

Chris' eyes flash in anger. " That is not-!" he started to say when a loud boo went through the arena and quieted us. We peeked behind the curtain and see some ECW and WCW guys beginning to beat on Kane and The Undertaker.

As one, all of our guys look at me. Looking at me as if I'm a leader. Why guilt nipped me is something I don't know. Maybe it was because I had just been in the arms of the woman who had given them their biggest thearth. That was it. And now they were looking at me as if I'm some kind of leader.

"Well?" Bradshaw asks.

I take a deep breath. "Let's do it!"

"YEAH!" Matt and Jeff Hardy scearmed at the same time. With them leading the charge and me bringing up the rear in my ring attire, we run out and begin taking it to them.

We're out numbered. Of course they get the upperhand on us and all of them are taking it to us. I got kicked and punched and hurt so much that I wasn't really that helpful. I'm lying in a corner by a turnbuckle as three or four guys still kick me. I see Chris Jericho and a handful of others have two on them. It seems to me that the WCW and ECW want to wipe me, Jericho, Kane and the Undertaker off the face of the world. They're rolling the others out of the ring so they could work on us.

Through the agony, I hear the sound of the crowd roaring loudly, and in the next minute the sound of breaking glass fills the arena. I see Stone Cold Steve Austin running into the ring. From my bad vantagepoint I saw him distribute six Stone Cold Stunners. This guy is cleaning house!

Undertaker and Kane chokeslam two of the last guys at the same time and the ring rumbled beneath me. I can tell I'm the most beat up one. Jericho is probably right after me. He's climbing to his feet while I'm still leaning heavily into the turnbuckle. My legs and chest are on fire and they don't want to work. My head is pounding more than it should have been and the world is tilting about.

The fans are going nuts and cheering on Austin. I'm still in the turnbuckle. My breathing isn't that great. I feel weak and hollow and for some reason I know it's not just the beating that wore me down: it was Stephanie.

Still dazed and hurt, I don't see The Undertaker come up to me until his hand is directly in front of my face. I stare at it for a second, then bring my pounding head up to meet his eyes. They're not the stone eyes of the Undertaker that I'm looking into. They're the eyes of Mark Callaway, my friend.I'm not a big fan of Undertaker's, but I'm Mark's fan. This is guy and what he stands for is what I want to be. Strong.

He knows I'm hurt. I take his hand and he heaves me to my feet. "You okay?" he yells.

No, I'm not. "YES!" I scream. "YES!"

Chris Jericho, The Undertaker, Kane, Stone Cold Steve Austin and Kurt Angle stand in the ring that night, side by side, looking up at the entrance to the ramp, as if daring anyone to try and stop us. Could anyone stop this force? The force made up of these five awesome men?

That question was answered at Invasion. And the force that would stop them?

That would be me.

CHAPTER FOUR

Smackdown!

July 19, 2001

I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar that no one in the world would have guessed that on Thursday night, the unlikely team of Stone Cold Steve Austin and Kurt Angle would face the team of Rhyno and Booker T.

I didn't bet on it either. I wasn't even prepared. I was watching the highlights of last week on Raw is War, and watching JR and Michael Cole announce some of the events of that night when the thing went on: me and Austin on one side of the screen in front of a green backing, and the Booker T. and Rhyno is front of a purple backing. JR's voice said that it was going to be a memorial night with this match. I was already up and out of my chair and putting on my ring gear.

That night was a memory for me. I was hiding. Hiding from Stephanie and her little minions Shane and Paul. I didn't want to see them so bad that I requested that I leave the sticker off my door (its mandatory that you do. Don't ask me why). Of course, they wouldn't let me, so I put my name on the sticker in small letters closed the door. As an afterthought, I put in the deadbolt, which is a major fire hazard.

I paced a lot. There wasn't much that I could do. I had gotten a locker room to myself at my request and the chance of running into Stephanie and Shane scared me so I stayed cooped up in the locker room for the twenty minutes when a knock came at the door.

The person tried to doorknob, but that didn't work. "Kurt?" It was Adam's voice. Christian was in a match tonight and Edge would be his partner. "Kurt, can I come in? I think we need to talk." I undid the deadbolt and Adam walked in, decked out in black pants and a black shirt unbuttoned at the top. His sunglasses came off as he came in. "Kurt, man, I'm sorry about what I said on Monday. That's personal, so I promise not to do it again. Friends?" He held out his hand.

I smiled. I shook his hand. "No problem. I was stressed, that's all. Nothing bigger. I'm sorry I snapped at you." Adam's relived and I had a feeling he had been thinking about it a lot since we'd seen each other.

"You did a great job on Monday," he said. "When you and the others ran out there. It was great. Me and Jay were sitting down and watching the whole thing. It was great! Kindda dramatic that it was the five of you standing in the ring."

"Well, they rolled the others out. They wanted to dismantle the ones they had to fight."

"Yeah. You looked really hurt. Are you okay?"

I looked down. I had a mild concussion, which wasn't really bad, just that headaches came a lot without warning, full-blown. I had a doctor-ordered drug in my new bag. "Yeah," I ended up telling Adam. "Yeah, I got a little concussion, but you know how it goes."

A little after that he left before I could go and deadbolt the door, a headache hit me. "Shit," I muttered, as I fell to my knees in front of the door. The deadbolt was forgotten. Pain was attacking my head. I felt as if my whole world was crashing down in front of me. I crawled a few feet, tears of pain welling inside my eyes. I heard a water tap dripping from the bathroom across from me. It sent whacking pains through my body and made me cry out.

I yapped and yapped as every now and then a fresh batch of pain hit. I crawled without any sense of direction. The pain was flashing as if there was a fire behind my eyes. The bright lights from the ceiling hit my eyes and a brand new pain made me cry out.

God, I was so weak. I was crying, I was crawling on my knees! I've had concussions before, and they hadn't reduced me to tears and to this weakness. The sensible part of my mind that I was surprised that was still intact told me I had been in a hospital at the time and heavily medicated, but the part of my mind that was going mad with pain didn't listen and was saying weak, weak, weak!

It felt as if someone was splitting my skull with an ax. God, I wished some blessed soul would do that for me and just plain put me out of my misery.

Nausea ripped through me like a fire and something lodged in the back of my throat. Shit. I scrambled around and bumped into something. It was the bathroom toilet. I had made my way to the bathroom. Sensing what it was, I tore the lid off of the toilet and vomited whatever I had had in my stomach for the past day and a half.

I flushed the toilet like a damn fool. The pain was tremendous. I wanted to wrap my self up in a sheet of darkness and just lay there until the pain killed me. I was crawling weakly again, and my head bumped into something and it felt has if I had cracked my skull. It made give a short and small howl as I fell to the cold of the bathroom, all my strength finally leaving. I tried to curl in a ball but I couldn't. I had knocked a towel to the floor. I pressed my face against it and waited for the pain to end.

=====================

I thought it was a hallucination. The voice that sent pain rattling through me and the form that was walking around the room. It couldn't be real. I was wrapped in a sheet of pain, and it had to be a hallucination. I was floating on a gray cloud.

"Kurt!" my pain-filled mind sorted. That was what the voice was saying. That was me. My name is Kurt Angle. The person was looking for me. "Kurt!"

There were two voices. A deeper one and a sweet one. I knew who they were. I knew them but they're names were locked in a pain-filled void that my mind was in. The noise hurt me. My ears were crying out. "KURT!" I whimpered tinselly, a strangled cry building in my throat. I wanted to die.

"Kur-oh, God! Shane, he's hurt!" Someone bent down the me, and I saw their hands and their knees. Something soft touched me. Silk. That's what it felt. Silk. "Shane! Shane, come here! " The voice was a shrieking sound. I whimpered again. Something was stroking my head. It didn't hurt, believe me or not.

Someone else was beside me the next second. I whimpered as the voices grew louder. "Kurt?" a female voice said softly. "It's Stephanie, Kurt. You're all right, now. You're all right." Pain exploded into my ears and the strangled cry that had been building inside of me burst like a bomb. She gasped.

A male voice now. It was reluctant. "We should get help," he said matter-of-factly. I wanted to kill him. His voice was loud.

"Turn off the light," I whispered. "Turn off the light." I was being rolled over and was now facing the light directly. I cried out. "Turn it off. Please, turn it off!" I shut my eyes tightly. Just make it go away. Please just make it all go away.

Beneath my eyelids, I saw that the light was turned off. But it still wasn't dark enough. Not even death would be dark enough to stop the pain that was rattling through my mind and the pain that my ears were in. Why didn't it all just go away!

More voices. Louder ones. "KURT!" I whimpered again. The soft hands that had been cradling my head left and were replaced by rough ones. Through my pain-filled mind I recognized the two who had come in: Adam and Jay. My friends. I peeked my eyes open. Jay's head was in my range of vision. "Jay!" I whimpered. "Medicine…it's in my bag…from the doctor…" I was sinking in and out of blackness. The medicine was in the form of a shot, actually.

I was trembling as someone leaned me against the door to the bathroom. "What do I do?" Adam asked in a weak voice. Both of their voices were weak. They were really my friends. They were worried about me.

"My arm," I choked. "My arm." I had given myself that shot five times in the last three days, but my hands were shaking and I couldn't see right. "Put it in my arm."

A minute later a sharp point slid into me, but I was all ready pain-filled so I didn't really feel it. "Let's lay him down," Jay said. "Shane, you gotta help us." They turned away from me as I gasped and panted. Stephanie was beside me, holding my shaking hand and stroking my forehead. I couldn't see her face.

"No," Shane said flatly. My mind was beginning to work again. I whimpered, though, as his voice grew loud. "No, I won't. If-"

"Shane, just do it!" Stephanie screamed at him suddenly. Her face was inches from mine, and my ears erupted. I cried again, a couple of tears rolling down my cheeks and whimpered. Stephanie realized what she had done and quickly brushed my tears away and kissed my forehead. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly arms gripped me from my head and shoulders and the three of them were dragging me to the cot that was in every locker room in case a wrestler needed to rest. I needed to sleep. I needed to sleep bad. They laid me gently on the cot. The softness was welcoming and I'm surprised I didn't fall asleep right then.

"We need to tell Vince," Jay said. A sneer went on Stephanie's and Shane's faces at the sound of their father. I just closed my eyes and relaxed into the cot. I'm on my stomach, and I press my face into the pillow. The pain is slowly growing dull. Someone said something loud and it hurt, but not as bad as the first times. Someone turned on the light, and it hurt. Really hurt so that I whimpered and it turned off.

Jay must have left because it was Adam who spoke. "Get in the bathroom!" he hissed at Shane and Stephanie. "If Vince catches you in here, we're all dead!" He pushed them in the bathroom just as Vince McMahon came in, Mark, Kane, Chris and Jay behind him. He went right over to me and bent down.

"Kurt, what happened?" Are you okay?"

I hadn't spoken for awhile, and Chris beat me to the punch. "You look like shit." They all gave him dirty looks. He smiled. "Well, it's true! Take it easy, junior. Like you're going to be able to wrestle tonight!"

"I look great," I said.

"Shit."

"Great."

"Shit!"

"Great!"

"S-H-I-T! SHIT!"

Shit, he was talking loud. I let out a whimper that I tried to stop. Chris knew instantly what he had done. He had had a concussion just before King of the Ring and he knew how much it hurt. "Sorry, Kurt! I'm really sorry!"

Vince rolled his eyes and turned back to me. "Tell me what happened. Did you take medicine?" His gaze rolled to the syringe on the floor. "Was that it?" I nodded. It didn't hurt. Yeah!

"What happened? "

"Nothing, Vince. I just got a headache and needed to get the medicine."

"Jay told me you were on the floor when they found you."

"Errr…."

"I don't want you to wrestle. Invasion is three days away and the game plan is that you-"

"Perfect! That's great, Vince! You're absolutely right! Kurt shouldn't wrestle, he's hurt and Invasion is only three days away and the plan is perfect and all!" Adam sounds like a complete idiot, but he just saved my ass. What would have happened if Shane and Stephanie had heard our plan?

"Even your friend agrees with me! You're not fighting. "

What was I thinking earlier? I wanted to be the leader, so I had to fight! "Vince, I'm fine! All I was doing was putting the deadbolt in and then the headache came and I fell and then….shit…" My argument suddenly wasn't so convincing. Sure, he was going to let me wrestle when I had fallen from a headache by the door and the medicine was five feet away and I couldn't grab it. Oh, yeah, that was the smart thing to do.

"The deadbolt?" It had spiked Mark's interest. "Why would you put the deadbolt in? That's a fire hazard!"

"Mark, shut up!" I cried.

"But-"

"That's enough." Vince put an end to the fighting. "Kurt, where your bag is now, was that where it was when you fell?" I nodded. "You want me to let you fight when the bag was five feet away and you couldn't get to it? Is that it"

"I…I could have gotten it! I just went the wrong way, that was all!"

"Jay told me you were in the bathroom on the floor when they found you. Why were you in the bathroom?"

"Umm…"

"Yeah?"

"I threw up," I said flatly. "I don't know how I got to the bathroom, I just know that I was there. I probably crawled there on accident."

"You were crawling?" Vince asked.

"Yes! I couldn't stand up. I fell."

"And you want to wrestle?"

"Yes!"

"Booker is good and so is Rhyno. DDP is probably going to come out and so will the Dudleys and you know the Dudleys love tables."

"I've been put through a table before, Vince."

"Ouch," both Adam and Jay said at the same time. They are, after all, survivors of TLC 1,TLC 2 and TLC 3.

"Give me one good reason I should let you fight."

I told him something that I probably shouldn't have said. "Because I'm going to fight whither you want me to or not."

Of course, that being made from me, Mark and Kane and Chris and Adam and Jay laughed their ugly heads off. Vince's face was masked with shock. My mind was snapping crazily. I wanted to laugh. I wasn't asking Vince for something, I was telling him something.

Vince wasn't mad. He just looked at me warmly. For some reason. "Give me one match where you were hurt and you finished the match."

"Armageddon?"

"Hell no," Mark said. "You fucking won that match and you took the title I should have won away and you were walking. Rikishi had to be taken out in that truck that I dumped him in he was so heavy." The five of them laughed again. I smiled. Well, I had won that match, but he was right.

I racked my brain and found the perfect match. "SummerSlam 2000."

"Okay, what happened?"

"Triple threat for The Rock's belt. "

"Who else was in that match?"

I decided I might as well joke. Had to make him believe that I was fine. I had to be my normal cheery self. "You want the formal introduction?" That wasn't funny, but the guys were hooting anyways. "Or the informal introduction?"

"INFORMAL!" the guys shouted. I winced. Vince gave me a look as I consulted the pain. I tried to still continue with the joke, but my voice was shaky. They still laughed.

(A/N: I'll give you all a fair warning: a lot of bad words next part and I bashed Triple H, okay?)

"And now, entering the ring, weighing in at one million pounds, from who the hell cares, a fucking asshole who should have never been the Goddamn champ anytime, the one who fucking beat me in a match, the man who I distaste, the man who I can fucking beat the crap out of, the man who is a bloody idiot and a man, finally, who is not a man at all, please, stay in your seats for the biggest asshole of all: Triple Hash!"

They were cracking up. Chris was leaning against a wall to keep himself up, Kane was sitting down, Mark had his bandana over his head, Adam was trying to stand up and Jay was on the floor. Vince well…Vince was holding his head in his hands, laughing.

I smiled. I wouldn't laugh. It would hurt too much. Finally, after about three minutes, Vince was staring intently at me. "That's my son-in-law, you know?" I nodded. He smiled. "If he somehow finds out you said that, I won't be responsible for what he does to you."

"Gotcha."

"And back to before. What injury?"

"Concussion about twenty minutes into it. Hunter Pedigreed me through the announce table. I was in the hospital for two days. Remember? You wanted to know why I wasn't there for Raw."

This guy really doesn't want me to fight. "Are you sure? What happened after?"

"Vince, I can't remember! All I remember was going through the table and then I was in the ambulance. You want proof of that? The paramedic who worked on me is my brother's wife! You want their number? He's probably not home, but I guess he wouldn't mind if I gave you his cell, so it's –"

"Kurt?"

"Yes?"

"I get the picture."

"Okay."

"Welll…then…get ready."

"You mean it?"

"Yes I mean it! So get ready."

"Seriously?"

"Yes, and if you get hurt and can't be at Invasion on Sunday…well, then you never know what might happen."

"Thanks, Vince, thanks! Do you want me to do cut a promo or something?" He shakes his head.

"Just get ready." He looked at my arm. "And clean up. Just what we need. For you to be spilling blood before the match even begins. Good luck." He and the others besides Adam and Jay all walk out. With some effort I sit up, and they sit next to me.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Adam asked. "Cause you can still back out of it."

"Shut it, Adam. I gotta get ready."

"I suggest you go to make-up," Jay said. "You're still pale."

"Your hair is pale."

"Naw, its baby soft and it's blonde!"

"Dirty blonde," Adam remarked.

"Have you looked in the mirror lately?"

"Guys, quit it."

Jay rolled his eyes. "Sure. Whatever you say. Where did Shane and Stephanie go?"

"Shit," I muttered as the two emerged from the bathroom. Stephanie and I looked at each other. The pain of what she did – both buying ECW and kissing me just to save Shane – still bit like an open wound. But she and Shane had been the ones who had found me. Did I owe them something?

"Hi," Stephanie said, her eyes never leaving mine. I wanted to take her in my arms again and just hold her. "I guess we better leave."

Jay doesn't think that's a good idea. "Why were you in here in the first place?"

Shane and Steph look at each other blankly, then just plain run out of the room.

================================

My music is playing. The arena is cheering me on. They want me to win this match. I want to get it over with. Shane, Stephanie and Paul Heyman are all out there, just wanting to be part of the action. I hoped they didn't interfere.

Of course, I didn't expect what was going to happen.

I had been to make-up and I now had color back in my cheeks. My walk wasn't that great, but I could run and do all the moves and everything. So I walked down the ramp slowly, and not even waiting for Howard Finkle to get down with my intro, I ran to the ring. No backup. Just me versus Rhyno and Booker T.

I knock Booker T. I really think that he's not trying hard, like he's holding back. Stephanie probably wanted him too. Not me, that's for sure. I do okay for a little while, but then the almighty Rhyno gores me and I land into the turnbuckle.

My mind is jolting with pain from the screaming of the fans and the force of the blow. My eyes roll close as I lay there, my head against the padded turnbuckle. Booker T. and Rhyno are getting ready to advance towards me.

Breaking glass. Stone Cold Steve Austin runs to the ring and gives Booker T. a Stone Cold Stunner. He throws Rhyno into a turnbuckle and then gives him kicks and kicks and then suddenly the tape comes on.

DDP has abducted Austin's wife Debra! I watch as Austin looks at the tape, his jaw hanging open, and then I watch as he sprints down the ramp and into the back. The Titantron is clicking back from pictures of the ring to pictures outside. Everyone is in the back! DDP is driving away with Debra in the trunk, and Austin is chasing after him in a limo. COOL!

Pain is crashing through and through me. My mind is spinning and spinning and the world was passing through and through me. The people in the arena were on one side of me one minute, then the other the next.

Somehow I staggered to my feet. Pain was exploding in my back and my eye felt like hell. I walked like a drunk over to Booker T., and pounded on him, and drove him to the ground. Oh, look at it! The Dudley Boyz are running out. I manage to knock both of them out of the ring, which probably wasn't such a great idea.

I heard a growl from behind me and turned and the next thing I know, Rhyno is goring me into the mat. The pain burst inside of my ribs like a fire. I gasped desperately as Rhyno and Booker T. set to the task of trash talking me as Shane and Paul and Stephanie jeered at me from outside the ring.

I rolled over to the over side of the ropes, away from the announce table. I grabbed the ropes and tried to swing to my feet. I managed to make it half way up before someone grabs my chin and heaves me to my feet. It's Bubba Ray Dudley.

He punches me and I fling back into the ropes when I suddenly saw it: the table, and D-Von, standing on the other side of it. I staggered forward, and I was treated to a Dudley Death Drop: A Three Dee through a table.

The pain is amazing. The humiliation is more amazing. I don't know why I'm ashamed. It was four guys on one, and I had a concussion that not even an hour ago had drove me to a point where I couldn't even walk. Yet I felt ashamed. Ashamed that I was the message to my company: WCW and ECW were going to win by any means, and I was the lamb they chose to send their message.

Lying in the remains of that table, my neck in agony, my eye swelling, my stomach wanting to vomit there and then, I've never felt more pain. I wanted to scream and scream until my larynx just plain fell out. But then, I discovered, the pain wasn't over yet.

I stared up at the lights, my eyes wanting to shut. I felt like I was dying. Maybe the bright lights were heaven. I watched them, watching.

Oh, look, it is heaven! Heaven has angels…angels that look…like Stephanie McMahon-Hemsley?! What in the world? Wait…. I'm not dead yet. Stephanie is above me, sneering at me. She still looks beautiful. She said something to me:

"We gave you a chance and you blew it. We're going to have to show you the truth the hard way."

====================================

Go ahead, it sucked. Say it. Well, again, sorry about the longness. I'll try for shorter next time. Remember to review!

And to come….Invasion! (Blazer style)

~Blazer~