9.

Cody had barely gotten the words out when Paul told him to take the next flight to Tampa. He managed a stuttered 'thanks' before ending the call, then turned to cram his things into his bags. Body numb, he could only think of the horrendous words that had caused his world to stop. He had known something was wrong as soon as he'd seen the missed calls from his mother and brother when he'd finished his match. And when he'd called back, his mother's sobs had confirmed his fears.

"The doctor said it was a heart attack. Please come home, Cody."

A heart attack. All his life, he'd watched footage of his father get beaten down in the worst way. He could vividly remember sitting in a hard plastic chair next to his mother, waiting for the doctor to set a broken bone or stitch up a cut. Each time, his father had come back stronger than before. Each time, Cody's faith that his father was unstoppable was restored.

Sinking down on the foot of the bed, he pressed his hands to his face. A shuddering sigh pulled from the depths of his lungs and he cursed the tears that welled in his eyes. His father wasn't some immortal being. Life wasn't a video game, there would be no restore point. And what if, this time, he didn't come back?

For the first time in ages, he began to pray.

When he finished he stood, swaying momentarily as his worst fears came back. He had to rush to the bathroom, barely making it in time before the contents of his stomach came up violently. He gripped the cold porcelain until his knuckles turned white, berating himself for being so weak.

Dad needs you. Mom needs you. Get a fucking grip.

The cold water he splashed on his face did little to refresh him. He caught his reflection in the mirror and turned away, not liking the expression on his face. Legs still unsteady he made his way into the bedroom as his mind scrambled. There was so much to do. He had to get a ticket to Tampa. He had to get to the airport. He had to call Dustin and find out everything that was known so he would be better prepared when he got to Florida.

He picked up his phone and had just found the number for the airport when a gentle knock invaded the silence of the room. Opening his mouth to tell whoever it was to leave him alone, he jerked his head up in surprise when a familiar voice seeped through the wood.

"It's Joanna."

She had barely finished the statement before he was across the room. Flinging open the door, he stared at her in shock. He hadn't expected her to come. He had hoped she would call, had assumed she would send a text requesting he keep her updated. Her eyes were red from crying and he was reminded how close she'd been to his father.

Is, he corrected, closing his eyes briefly. You haven't lost him. You won't lose him. That old man is tougher than anything the world can throw at him.

"How is he?" she asked before he could speak. "Do you know anything?"

"No," he whispered. "Just that he's in the hospital. When I talked to Mom they were running tests. She's going to call me back when she knows more, but I'll probably be on the plane – Shit, I need to book my flight—"

"Cody," she cut in gently. "I'll do it for you, you make sure you have everything, okay?"

"You don't have to—" he sighed when it became apparent she would argue the point. He wasn't in the mood to argue. So, nodding, he turned back to gather the last of his things.

When he finished, he became aware of her voice across the room. It was gentle and soft as he remembered it usually being, but there was a tightness that was new. An anxiety that, for once, he hadn't caused. He perched on the edge of the bed, looking down at his trembling hands; finally he clasped them together to stop the shaking but the tremors radiated up his arms.

"Thank you, so much," Joanna murmured into the phone. Dropping the receiver into the cradle, she released a weary sigh. "There's a direct flight leaving at midnight. Tickets are reserved under your name. I got you two seats. I figured you'd want to be left alone."

Cody nodded. It was on the tip of his tongue to request she come with him. The thought of sitting alone on a plane for however long made him want to cry. She would calm him, as she did frequently. But he refrained, knowing now wasn't the time to ask for her support. She had already done more than necessary. "Joanna," he began, still staring at his hands. "I-I wish you'd come," he whispered, the words leaving him before he could censure himself. "Dad loves you."

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

It was possibly the twentieth time she'd asked since returning to their room. She chewed on her thumbnail as she looked into her toiletry case to make sure she had everything, fully aware of Stephen leaning in the doorway. He wasn't answering her. She released an almost inaudible sigh, so torn she wanted to scream. Her biggest longing at the moment was to curl up in Stephen's arms and forget everything and everyone else. At the same time, she felt needed in Florida. Not by Cody's mother, brother, or sister – and especially not by his father – but by him. And not for any romantic or underhanded reasons. It was simple: the man was too broken to go alone.

She could have told him to get Randy or Ted to go with him, but her reasons leaned a little to the selfish side as well. She adored the man lying in the hospital down in Florida. Before she and Cody had started to date, she had grown a fondness for the wrestling legend that made sporadic appearances at shows. Off camera he was one of the sweetest men in the world, and when she had accompanied Cody home one weekend the man known to legions of fans as Dusty Rhodes had welcomed her with open arms.

"Come sit down with me, honey child, and tell me all about yourself."

Honey child. Ever since that first day, that was what he had called her. Backstage when he was making an appearance, on the phone when she called to verify plans, at family cookouts. Just thinking of his voice saying the words brought tears to her eyes.

Please, God, let him be okay, she prayed for umpteenth time since hearing the news.

A pair of hands cupped her shoulders from behind and she turned to bury her face in Stephen's chest. Sobs escaped her as she clung to him, finally able to release her worries in the form of tears.

"This is why yeh need to go," he whispered, hands moving in a soothing manner over her back. When his fingers reached the back of her head she leaned back to look up at him. "Yeh told me he's been like a father to yeh, love. Ah can't let you sit here not knowing how things are."

"But—"

"Shh," he intervened. "Yeh need to go and make sure for yerself that he's going to be alright. I know yeh, Joanna. If yeh do go and see him in person yeh'll be beating yerself up for days." He pressed his lips to her forehead.

"But Cody—"

"If he's half as upset about things as I think he is, he's not interested in trying to win yeh back by now. And even if he were, I trust yeh." His blue-gray eyes stared into hers for a moment. "Ah love yeh, Joanna."

"I love you, too, Stephen." Her tears returned and her face moved again to his chest, breathing in his scent. It calmed her, but just a bit, and when his arms wrapped around her tightly she never wanted him to let her go.

"So ya just let her go?"

Stephen groaned at the question as he sipped his beer. Unable to sleep and knowing he wouldn't until he knew Joanna had made it safely to Florida, he had made his way to the bar downstairs. He had just taken a seat and ordered his drink when he'd been joined by Drew and Wade, who he sensed had been watching for him.

"Ah didn't just 'let her go,'" he stated in answer to Drew's question. "Yeh make it sound like Ah own her."

"But she's your woman. And she's on a plane to Florida with the man she just broke up with. The man that just asked her to marry him. The man she cheated on. With you." Drew tilted his head to one side. "You don't see anything wrong with this situation?"

Stephen sucked in a breath and took a moment before answering. The next sip of his beer tasted bitter on his tongue and he knew alcohol wouldn't make him feel better. "Ah trust her. And they're not going to Florida for vacation. They're going because his father had a heart attack."

"Hard to think of a man like Dusty being taken down by a heart attack," Wade murmured thoughtfully.

"Joanna's really upset. She's told me before that he's like a father to her. Even if Ah could've, Ah wouldn't have asked her not to go. She needs to go." He only wished he could have gone with her. "If she hadn't, she would have regretted it, especially if..."

He looked up to see Wade and Drew nodding silently in agreement to the thought he hadn't voiced. They all knew it was a possibility that the man would... He couldn't think the little world that would devastate the entire company. Wetting his lips, he pushed his beer away and motioned to the bartender to order something stronger for each of them.

When the shot glasses were placed in front of them and filled with the amber liquid, each man looked to the others.

"To Dusty," Drew murmured, raising his glass.

"To Dusty," Wade and Stephen echoed, raising theirs as well.

Joanna hated hospitals. Ever since she had watched her grandmother waste away in one so many years before, just the sight of the building made her stomach clench and her throat close up. But as she entered Tampa General, still wearing the heavy coat she had put on before leaving Ohio, she forced the sickly feelings away, knowing she should focus on the issue at hand.

Cody grasped her hand tightly as he led the way to the elevators. He hadn't spoken since getting off the plane, but she knew he was too worried about his father to think about trying to carry on a conversation. She didn't mind the tight hold on her hand or the fact she had to jog to keep up with his stride. Once on the elevator she pulled her hand free so she could remove her coat.

"Cody," she ventured softly, touching his arm. He still wore his coat as well and didn't resist when she tugged on it to pull it from his body. Draping both coats over one arm, she hugged them to her chest as the elevator slowly ascended. She closed her eyes briefly, the words that had become a mantra over the past hours echoing in her mind.

Please let him be okay. Please, God, let him be okay.

The elevator lurched to a stop. Her eyes snapped open and she felt as though she had left her stomach down on the first floor. Cody was out before the doors opened fully and she hurried to follow him, heart pounding harder in her chest with each step she took.

When they reached the private waiting room she hesitated in the doorway as her former boyfriend was grabbed up in a hug by his mother. Michelle began to sob and Joanna felt her heart break. Dustin was there, as was Kristin. Cody's sister joined in the hug and Dustin turned to Joanna as the sobs increased in volume.

"How is he?" she whispered as the coats were pulled from her grasp.

"It was massive," Dustin murmured. "You want some coffee?" When she nodded he tossed the coats onto an empty chair and, hand on her shoulder, turned to guide her out of the room. "They took him in for surgery about an hour ago. They tried to do a coronary artery stent but it failed for some reason. He was stable, so they wheeled him back." He sucked in a breath, obviously trying to be the strong one in his family for the time being. "It could be eight hours before we hear anything."

Joanna nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Tears stung her eyes and her heart broke all over again. If things turned south, Cody would never forgive himself for not being there in time to see his father. The mantra kicked in again as they reached the vending machines. Dustin's hands shook as he fed money into the machine for coffee.

Cups in hand, they returned to the waiting room. Joanna went to give Michelle a hug and found herself wrapped in a tight embrace as the woman assured her that "their Virgil" would be okay. She found herself saying things that people always said in the same situation. He would be okay. He was strong. He would kick this and be back on his feet in no time. Better, faster, stronger than before.

But as she sank down in a chair she knew the words meant nothing. There were no guarantees. Here today, possibly gone tomorrow. She knew she could learn from this, that she could take it as a lesson to seize each day as though it could be her last. Because it was possible that tomorrow would never come.

Silence settled over the room as she and the others positioned themselves for a long, tense wait.

At some point, Cody moved to sit with her. Minutes passed like hours until his arm slipped around her shoulders, and when her head rested on his chest she felt him start to relax. His lips pressed to the top of her head and she curled closer to him.

"He's going to be okay," she whispered after what seemed like an hour had drifted by.

"I hope so."

From her seat she watched the black windows shift to a murky gray before lighting up fully. Brilliant Florida sunshine came into the room, giving it a cheery atmosphere that belied the true purpose of the area. Her gaze moved to the arrangement of fresh flowers on the coffee table. A soft sigh pulled from her lungs, wondering how many deaths had been announced in the room. How many families had been irrevocably broken? How many lives shattered?

She heard the tone going over the PA but it didn't register at first. A female voice called out a code and she sat up straight upon realizing there was a problem in the operating room. Not just any operating room. The cardiac surgery unit.

Michelle released a sharp cry. Kristin and Dustin, sitting on either side of her, paled considerably. Next to Joanna, Cody tensed, the arm around her shoulder resembling stone.

Out in the hallway, rapid footsteps approached and rushed by. Shoes squeaked on the tile floor, harried voices not carrying into the room.

"I need to get outta here," Cody announced softly. His arm fell from her shoulders; he grabbed her hand. "Walk outside with me?"

Joanna nodded, rising on shaky legs to stand when he did. She vaguely heard him assure his mother he'd be right back, that he just needed to clear his head. She followed his lead out into the hallway and was unable to keep from looking in the direction the nurses and doctors had rushed towards barely a moment before.

Outside, she squinted in the sunlight. Following him along the sidewalk away from the entrance, she had no idea what his destination was but was powerless to stop him. When he released her hand she saw they were next to a bench tucked against the side of the building. Her eyes rested on the sign on the wall – Designated Smoking Area – and she sighed. "Cody—"

"It's just a cigarette, Joanna. I'm not snorting cocaine."

"Because smoking a cigarette while your father is having bypass surgery is a good idea," she muttered, folding her arms across her chest. She looked away when he dug into his pocket. Seconds later she heard the click of a lighter, then wrinkled her nose when the acrid smell of cigarette smoke wafted by. "This doesn't help, Cody..."

"I've got to do something. I can't sit up there waiting for the bad news."

"You don't know for sure that it's going to be bad news," she murmured, even though she had been thinking the same thing.

"He's sixty-six years old. He's overweight. His body is already breaking down from his years in the ring. Tell me his odds are good."

"His heart—"

"Is obviously breaking down, too."

She looked to him and saw the tears trickling down his face. The cigarette hung limply from his fingers, now forgotten. "Cody—"

"He can't die." The words were a gasp as his cigarette fell to the ground and he sank down on the bench, burying his face in his hands. "He's everything to me, Joanna. I already lost you, I don't want to – I can't lose him. Not now." He shivered when she sat next to him, and when she placed a hand on his arm he trembled. "He doesn't even know you broke up with me."

"...What?" she murmured, certain she'd heard the last statement wrong. She had no way of coinciding the one fact with his previous, panicked words.

"I was going to tell him when I came down this weekend. Nobody knows, Joanna."

"It doesn't matter now," she attempted to assuage. "I'm not bitchy enough to care about that while all this is going on. When the time is right you can tell them."

"I didn't tell you thanks," he whispered after a few moments. "You... You didn't have to come with me. I know you didn't come for me, but for Dad, but I do appreciate it. If he knew you were her, it would mean a lot to him."

She nodded, having no idea what to say. A hand covered hers and she glanced down to see his fingers slide between hers, giving a gentle squeeze. She supposed that, in a way, she was there for him, too. He needed support just as much as his mother did. If not more, considering everyone was rallying around Michelle.

"I miss you," he breathed. "I miss being able to hold you and knowing you'll be there when I wake up."

"Cody—" Joanna broke away when she felt her phone start to vibrate within her pocket. Grateful for the distraction, no matter what it was, she hopped to her feet and moved further down the sidewalk. She saw it was a message from Stephen and smiled faintly at his words. Breathing a sigh of relief that the moment with Cody had been broken, she replied to the message, promising she would update him when she could.

"Joanna."

She turned to see Cody on his feet. Phone in one hand, his face paler than she'd ever seen it before, she knew something was wrong. His mouth moved but no sound came out.

"He's coding again," he finally croaked. "He's dying, Joanna."

A/N: ...Don't look at me like that. Love you all! :)