Alright I think that this is my first WWE story on this site. I have it posted on Waattpad and on Mibba, so if you think that you've seen this before, you probably have. I do not own the WWE, or any of it's properties. I do not own any real people, places or things mentioned. All trademarks and copyrights belong to their respective owners. The following events are fictitious and even real events and people are being used in a fictitious manner. This story will contain foul language, mature themes, and mentions of mental illness as well as physical injury and chronic illness. Read at your own discretion, and do not waste you're time to lecture me on why I shouldn't say fuck so much. I think that's all. Enjoy.

"Knock knock," Jon said, standing in the doorway of my hospital room.

Ah yes. I was back in the dreaded hospital.

I had woken up, feeling like shit on Tuesday, but I just kind of put it off, because I'm an idiot. I had a headache and was sensitive to light and sound. In addition I was tired and sore. I could work through that. I didn't have an appetite, but I could work through that too. Sometimes my meds had side effects, whatever. Nothing came of it, and I thought I was fine, until about five o'clock. At five, I ran for the nearest bathroom and threw up until there was absolutely nothing left. At that point my head was spinning and according to Nikki, when she found me, I was burning up, which I hadn't noticed. I had felt fucking cold all day.

At the point she had gotten Colby, who had told her to run and get Steve. Of course this turned into a big fucking thing, and I was rushed off to the hospital in an ambulance. (Really really really not happy about that.)

There, they determined that I had the flu.

Now for a normal person, the flu is no big deal. However, when you have received a transplant, it's different, because to keep your body from attacking your new organ(s), they put you on medication to suppress your immune system. The flu meant a hospital stay, so that they could monitor your medication and watch for signs of rejection.

"Hey," I said, my voice scratchy.

"You scared the shit out of me Doll."

"I told them that I didn't need the fucking ambulance," I muttered.

"So what's the verdict?"

"Flu, so I would stay right there," I said, motioning for him to stop his approach.

"The flu put you in the hospital?" he asked, coming closer anyways.

"The flu puts a lot of people in the hospital. It kills some."

"Yeah, but not you Doll. You're not the type to get your ass kicked by the flu. "

"Remember, when you fucked up your leg, and went ballistic on me?" I asked.

"You said that you weren't afraid, because you dealt with your own crazy."

"Yeah. It's because I used to be really really sick."

"What do you mean sick?" Jon asked, sitting in the chair beside my bed.

Getting technical Jon was pointless. It's not that he couldn't understand it. It just wasn't needed.

"I was born with a shitty liver, and it affected my lungs. I was weird, because no one diagnosed it until I was a teenager. Normally it's found when you're a child or not all. I spent years in a hospital. I needed a new liver, and I needed a new set of lungs. I was lucky, because I got both. But my mother and I weren't okay."

I could feel the tears welling up. Jon took my hand in both of his, squeezing it tight.

"Sitting in a hospital, day in and day out. I watched as people around me lived their lives. They came in and they went out. I got angry. I got really angry. Why was I sick? Why did I have to lay around in hospital beds, while people got to live normal lives. Fuck I was even jealous of the ones, who died. They at least had an end. I was stuck in fucking limbo."

"You were allowed to be angry. Everyone is allowed to be angry," Jon said.

"And I started to imagine terrible things. I wanted to live. I wanted to live, so bad, but for that to happen someone had to die."

Tears started dripping.

"I understood that, but then-" I hated this part. "Then I lost sight of that. I quit thinking like that. I just- I wanted people to die. I saw people in the hall and thought about how they could be a match, and what if they walked outside and got hit by a car. What if some crazed robber attacked someone and left them brain dead and they were a match. It was all I could think of death, and it didn't really hit me until, one of the girls in the group therapy session that I was required to go to got her new heart did I realize how completely fucked up that was, because she was sitting there an organ that she's been waiting for for years, pumping in her chest and doing so strong. And she felt terrible. She felt so guilty that she admitted that she wished that she had died instead, that maybe if God took her life, her donor could've kept hers."

"I pulled myself together after that. Then my nurse came in one day and told me that they were going to prep me, because I was getting my new organs, but they reminded me of the risk. Transplants are tricky, when there's just one organ involved, and they're not a sure fire thing, even then. They prepared them for what could happen, if I died. If you want specifics, ask Colby. He was there. He was always there. By some miracle, I lived. My mother didn't hear that. She was so prepared for me to die, that when they told her I was fine she heard the opposite. They spent hours trying to convince her, but it got nowhere. Then they brought her into see me, and she lost it. She screamed that I was an imposter, and that I wasn't her child. At least that's what they told me. They escorted her out."

I took a shaky breathe. This is where things got really hard.

"She- She- She tried to kill herself. She left saying that without her baby, she had no reason to live. We had- We had to put her in an institution. She's been there for years. I've vistited, but ti doesn't do anything. She thinks that the hospital is limbo or something and that I'm an angel come to visit her, that one day I'll take her to heaven with me."

I was over taken by my sobs.

Jon slid into my bed beside me and pulled me into his chest. I held into onto him like my life depended on it. The only person, who I had actually told all this, who wasn't there for it was Joe and now Jon.

Jon didn't say anything. He didn't keep talking like Joe, he just held me, allowing me to cry into his chest.