Uncommon Bond

Chapter 2

Rated – NC-17/MA

Author: Batistafan(given name, given on request)

THIS IS THE SEQUEL TO UNCOMMON SENSE – If you have not yet read the first story, doing so may better help you to piece together the events and characters of this fiction…enjoy!

Disclaimer: This is a mature fanfiction intended for mature readers. This story contains graphic violence, as well as explicit, mature, consensual sexual situations and these would not be deemed appropriate for all readers.

I do not own nor claim to have any affiliation with the WWE, its characters, wrestlers, staff or other affiliates. I do own any original characters that I have created, as well as scenarios that ensue throughout the course of this fiction. However, since both my characters and scenarios are inexorably intertwined with those of the WWE, my ownership of them is not autonomous.

I do not endorse nor do I discourage the use of any brand-name products that might be referenced in the fiction and have no claim to them as they are property of their respective companies of license. Thank you kindly for not suing.

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"Brave men are all vertebrates; they have their softness on the surface and their toughness in the middle."

G.K. Chesterton

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He could do little more than watch as the paramedics shuffled out of the ambulance with their equipment in tow, strangely calm, prepared to do what they did best…and even as he tried desperately to explain to them the nature of her injuries, they began ushering him away from her, not caring much of what he spoke. Randy Orton pulled his hand away from the bleeding wound in her head as they instructed and stood back as the team methodically began to secure her in a neck brace and load her onto the backboard and then the mobile stretcher.

Another ambulance not far in the distance had already halted, sirens blaring and lights still flashing intermittently, with a team piling out to assist the unknown woman. And Randy Orton standing aside, defeated with blood on his hands and clothing couldn't help but wonder who the woman was, if she were even still alive…why she had been in the road in the first place. How in hell had all of this happened?

He wanted to help Nancy, too, wanted to find out if she would be all right but as he piped up to speak, he was ushered out of the way with none of his questions answered, none of his ministrations desired. Once again, the familiar feeling washed over him…the feeling of not being needed. And so absorbed in his thoughts of being rejected was he that he almost missed the nurse's sharp verbal bark as she hung her head out of the back of the ambulance with a look of irritation and demanded that he either get in or get out of the way, so they could back up.

He climbed into the ambulance with numbness taking up residence in his mind and body and watched as they pierced the skin of her arm with the needle starting an I.V. They lifted the soft satin fabric of her shirt and wrapped a fetal monitor belt around the expanse of her bare belly and he found he couldn't look without feeling immense guilt…guilt for their circumstance and guilt for the tragedy having happened while she had been entrusted to his care.

Randy knew all of the technical terms as they were spoken into the CB by the driver…radioed back to the waiting team in the hospital emergency room…he'd heard those terms before during his time as a military medic, but everything flew by so rapidly that it was difficult for him to process anything. He heard the heartbeat and saw it register on the monitor telling the team that the child inside of their patient's womb was still very much alive.

"Very strong heartbeat…" He heard the female nurse say, with a small smile of relief, even so the smile slipped away as if it had never been there. She spoke out loud to try to wake Nancy, but to no avail. Sadly the nurse seemed to be resigned to the notion that Nancy would not be waking anytime soon.

He watched as they further poked and prodded her, checking vitals, attaching blood oxygen monitors to her finger and stifling the flow of the wound so that the laceration could be stitched at the hospital. Portland Oregon's Health Sciences Center, That's where they were heading…it's what they had said, but he'd barely heard. Randy was frozen watching the nurse as she checked to see if Nancy's pupils were fixed or dilated.

There was the slimmest glimmer of relief in the nurse's eye and that told Randy little more than he already knew…she was still alive and so at least he had a starting point when he called Dave…called him to tell him what? Tell him that his wife, who had been fine when she'd gotten into his car, was now possibly on the verge of death? Tell him that she could have mortal injuries? It wasn't a phone call that he was looking forward to making and even if the collision hadn't been his fault, he wasn't sure that Dave would see it that way.

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Dean Frye, the young EMT, worked quickly feeling through the slight mask of blood for a pulse. The woman was remarkably intact despite the recent collision with the BMW that was still imbedded in the tree not far away. He'd half expected to see her in pieces, but she wasn't…she most likely had only been skimmed and sent rolling. Despite the small amount of blood on the outside of her body, he knew that she could be bleeding internally and so he wasted no time.

Dean felt the pulse, strong in the vein just under the tender skin of her neck and his hand grazed a thick, stainless-steel, ball chain. And he decided that it would be better to get that off as soon as she was in the van and stabilized. After that he could sack up her belongings, along with what he saw lying not far from her body. If he did it, he could be sure that she retained all of her property, that it would be put in the hospital security safe until she could awaken and claim it…If she awakened.

His team worked loading her onto the stretcher after securing a neck brace and placing her on a backboard to minimize possible spine injury. The team lifted her into the ambulance with practiced ease. They would follow the other one that had just been dispatched and retrieved the other accident victims. With fluid effortlessness, Dean began to perform the necessary procedures to stabilize the woman's condition, feeling truly empathetic…it was obvious that there were other injuries, ones that had been inflicted before she had been hit; bruises that had already blackened…and he couldn't help wondering what might have happened to her.

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Scribbling down the license plate of the BMW and then sliding the folded business card back into his shirt pocket, Sullivan turned to Owen and regarded him through the soft veil of drizzle.

"Of all the damn luck." Sullivan remarked on a frustrated sigh his accent much less pronounced than Owen's. He then slid his ink pen back inside the pocket and pointed toward the road. "Tell me again Owen…what in the hell happened?"

Owen didn't miss the look of skepticism that flickered across the countenance of the older man who rounded him slowly in the spotlight made by the headlights of the two SUV's. "I told ye, already." Owen said not bothering to look behind him when Sullivan stopped just inches from his back.

"Well, then pretend I'm an idiot and tell me again!" Sullivan blasted, sending a rush of hot air from his mouth, making a massive cloud in the air.

Owen gritted his teeth and then chose his words carefully. "Teke was going to shoot 'er and I did as ye asked…I stopped him."

"And yet she somehow got away…barely clothed, in the cold…with no shoes." Sullivan reminded him. "How is it that you couldn't catch her?"

"I shot fer her backside, but I missed." Owen lied. "Twas dark."

"Five times you missed?" Sullivan grinned, shook his head as he dropped the magazine from Owen's gun to apprise the number of missing bullets. "Now answer me how you shot Teke from nigh on 25 yards away, and dropped him like a stone with one bullet…in the dark…yet Barren, was no more than ten feet away, restrained and weak, and you missed?" Sullivan slammed the magazine back up into the butt of the gun and angrily pulled the slide back, chambering a round. He jabbed Owen's own weapon into the side of his head. "We fought together in Dublin, Owen…in the revolution you and I…and you killed countless people." Sullivan confirmed the memory for him. "You're a deadeye with a weapon, Owen and so you're a goddamn liar! Don't talk to me as if I've not seen you in action!"

"What do ye want, Sullivan? I fired warning shots and she didn't stop…of course I could have killed her but ye want the key? Do ye not!" Owen glared, as the weapon pressed ever harder into the side of his head, causing him to have to lean his head nearly sideways. He was desperate, but not desperate enough to give away the fact that Barren already had what it was they wanted. Especially since he had witnessed the aftermath of the crash…seen the ambulance take her away after the others had been taken and since he knew now that Sullivan had concrete evidence of where she was, or would be. The key itself would be easy pickings should he reveal his secret. "Let her think she's escaped…ye can follow her and she'll lead ye right to it."

Sullivan nodded his head, giving the impression that he agreed. "If she lives…You may have failed, but Fate, gave us helping hand. In the form of an out of control car…damn fine luck I'll say." He said sarcastically as he turned to another of his cronies and handed the folded business card to him. "Track that plate and see who the BMW is registered to and then get back with me…we might need that information later"

Owen remained motionless, until Sullivan turned to him, holding the weapon by the barrel, he handed it back to Owen. "Ride with Douglas…give it a few hours and then go to the hospital and post your ass outside of her room until we know whether she's dead or alive."

Reluctantly Owen climbed into the front seat of the Cadillac STS, the one that had taken Barren into the woods, and then Douglas flopped into the passenger seat without a word. A nod and a shrug showed that the two had silently agreed to leave Teke's body in the wilderness, knowing that the caddy would be taken back to the detail shop tomorrow and completely wiped clean of any epithelial evidence of Teke. Owen felt no remorse, not because he was cold or desensitized to killing, but because he loved Barren and Teke had intended to kill her, key or no key.

Owen backed carefully in a tight circle and then drove slowly from behind the copse of trees, back down the path that Teke had made—back toward Interstate 5…the hospital…Barren and the key.

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"I just found out tonight." Dave Batista told Chris Benoit, as his friend turned the tiny sonogram picture sideways and smiled.

"Congratulations, man." Benoit nodded. "Definitely a boy…at least you're not outnumbered three to one anymore."

"Oh, yeah…no kidding." Dave laughed softly, fondly reminded of the fact that he didn't even have space in his master bathroom to get ready. His wife and oldest daughter had commandeered the counter space for their own needs. On the days his daughters came to stay with them, he could often find Vanessa sitting cross-legged on the marble countertop chattering away to his wife while she got ready.

This forced him to have to seek out the other bathroom which was usually strewn with clothing from both of his daughters and muddy soccer gear belonging to Audrey…but he wasn't overly bothered by the inconvenience, because Nancy usually had the mess in hand before it grew out of control, but mostly because it meant that his family was together…even if he did have to shower at odd hours and dry off occasionally with a hand towel because his daughters had used all the bath towels. And he could live with the entire hullabaloo because they were what he lived for, even if he ended up inadvertently walking through a cloud of perfume every now and then. And now he would just have to teach his son how to live with it too.

"Are you ready for sleepless nights again?" Benoit asked, smiling as he handed the picture back to Dave, who protectively tucked it back into his wallet.

"I'm ready for all of it." Dave announced, as the phone on his hip vibrated. The call would likely be from his wife who had probably just now landed in Seattle. He tilted the phone up but the number on the caller ID was not the familiar digits of Nancy's cellular, instead the seven digit number was prefaced by a Portland area code. She was probably calling from the airport to tell him her flight had been delayed, in which case he was fully intent upon canceling her flight himself, picking her up and taking her back to his hotel to do unspeakably naughty things to her for her earlier treachery. He smiled at the prospect of an interlude as he lifted the phone to his ear.

"Flight delayed, huh?" Dave's low voice rumbled through the receiver, but it was not his wife's voice that responded.

"Dave." Randy's voice trembled, as he held the payphones earpiece.

"Randy." Dave furrowed a brow confused. "Was Nancy's flight delayed? I noticed you're still in Portland."

"We're…not at the airport…" Randy answered, afraid of what he knew he must reveal. "Uh, we're…at Oregon Health Sciences…it's uh, on Southwest Sam Jackson Park Road." He read the address from the business card that he'd taken from the triage desk.

Dave felt as if the floor had opened up and swallowed him whole. "What's wrong with her?" His voice was tight and he had the inclination to panic as he shuffled to gather his bags. "Is she in labor?" He knew that it was still early for her to be giving birth…furthermore he knew that she would have called him before going to a hospital, she would have called the minute she knew…she wouldn't have let Randy call for her.

"No, Dave…" Randy said, swallowing in an effort to rid himself of the lump in his throat. "We had an accident…on the…" He paused to take a breath. "On the highway and we hit somebody, a girl…I was swerving to miss her, but the road was wet and then we hit…uh, we hit a tree." He let out a breath and leaned against the wall closing his eyes.

"Is she…okay?" Dave asked hesitantly as he allowed Chris Benoit, who had sensed the problem through the scattered dialogue, to finish lugging his bags out into the hall, even as he tugged on his coat.

"She's alive…but uh, Dave…you need to get here." Randy was verging on tears, but he held it all in, the way he always did.

Dave Batista confirmed that he was on the way and hung the phone up, keeping his dread in check for the moment. He accepted the ride that was offered by Chris Benoit, knowing that he couldn't have concentrated on driving at the moment.

Nothing of consequence transpired as the car sped past a line of trees on the highway toward the hospital. There was nothing but him and his incredible fear as he sat rigid in the passenger seat. Running over the scenarios in his mind only added fuel to the already blazing flame that was his terror and he could feel himself verging on a range of emotions that darted between horror and rage. He shouldn't have let her go, let her leave…he should have gone with his original thinking and kept her there so she could ride home with him, in the morning. But because his daughters had been waiting at Angie's house for her and because of the bond that Nancy had with them, and the last minute shopping they had planned…and because of the promises that she had made to his daughters…ones she never would have broken, because she was true…he'd foolishly consented.

And so he'd let her go…with Randy…trusted her…with Randy. And now, because he hadn't exerted some authority, argued with her a little more stiffly about flying so late in her pregnancy…because he hadn't just said, "No and that's that"…she could be badly hurt. And the baby? Dave couldn't let himself think about the baby, because then he'd have to consider the possibility that they could lose…him…and after months of interacting with a baby that he couldn't even see, only feel and after just now finding out that he could finally put a name to the mystery baby…losing him was something he refused to accept. And so he shuffled the thoughts around, began the process of thinking positively…convincing himself that she would be fine…and his son would be fine…and Randy…well that was another matter, altogether.