Chapter 7: Vulnerable
Disclaimer: As much as I may want too, I do not own any material related to the WWE. I only own the created character Megg Summers.
Authors Note: As always, any reviews will be acknowledged and credited at the beginning or end of each chapter.
The time frame for this chapter is going to begin the two days after Summerslam in Megg's point of view.
People who have been in comas, under an anesthetic, or unconscious have rumored that they heard or felt any and everything that was taking place around them. They storied how they heard their loved ones voices, or how they felt someone holding their hand. It was touching, but I didn't know how honest those people were being. When under anything it's possible they were only dreaming or exaggerating the truth. It really isn't that I didn't believe them, I just had a hard time accepting that something like that was plausible. But I guess it goes to show that no one really knows what is possible with the body, or how strong the senses really are.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. I was having a hard time deciphering where exactly the consistent noise was originating from, or what exactly it really was, but I had heard it clearly for the last few hours. A soft dripping noise rippled through the air and in to my ears loudly, accompanying the beeping, and both sounded like they were directly beside my head. I could feel a smooth material resting on my legs, and draped just the slightest bit on my forearms, allowing the warmth of my body heat to reside comfortably. I could feel something smooth and slightly sticky draped over the left side of my forehead, sitting along the skin of my temple. I couldn't really put a finger on what it was exactly either. I couldn't really figure out what anything was right now.
The last thing that was sparking clearly and coherently in my mind was my head making a harsh contact with the mat of the ring. The only thing I could remember was Randy's match at Summerslam. Everything that followed those events was completely fuzzy, almost as if a fog had taken place over my mind. Even if that was so, I don't even know if there is anything that I'm suppose to be remembering. Everything was becoming frustrating for me. I couldn't control my eyes, I couldn't move my limbs. I had no control over what I heard, what I was feeling, what anyone did to me. Everything was out of my hands and was being controlled by everyone else. I wanted to move, I wanted to open my eyes.
I heard a set of footsteps echoing through my ears, they were softly padding against the floor of the room, and had stopped abruptly. I heard a hushed thump close to my head, and I was wondering what exactly was happening. A warmth was surrounding the air around me, and I was figuring someone was sitting next to me now, or possibly standing. I wanted to see who it was, I was nervous about it being someone I couldn't trust, or someone that Randy couldn't trust.
Randy. Oh god, I wonder how he's doing. What he's been doing...or who. I felt my heart plummet in my chest. I didn't know how long I had been like this. I didn't know where I was, what town I was in. All I knew was the noises that were surrounding me. Randy could have moved on, he could have given up and pretended that nothing between us ever happened. He did it to others, I could just be another notch on his decorated belt.
I felt a warmth begin to surround my hand and I felt nothing. There was no spark burning in my veins like when Randy touched me. I didn't feel a sense of calmness or safety. I felt my heart breaking in my chest as I realized it wasn't Randy that was with me, it was one of my friends, one of the people I loved, but it wasn't who I wanted it to be.
"Come on baby girl, you need to wake up," I knew that voice, it was the first familiar thing that I had heard since I was even able to start picking out distinguishing noises. I wanted to smile, to say something back to him, but nothing was happening, my lips never moved and my eyes never opened. A small laugh echoed in my ears and I wondered what it was that was making him laugh, "Do you remember why I even gave you that nickname? It was your first flight. You were so scared I thought you were about run out of that plane. I just remember sitting next to you that entire flight, and we talked for hours, and grew on me so damn quick. I became like a big brother to you, and it just slipped right out. You had the cheesiest grin on your face, and it just became our little thing."
I knew exactly who it was who was with me right now. It was John, my best friend and the one person I trusted more than anything. I felt my eyes stinging with tears as he relived the story, his voice tight with emotion, it sounded like he was trying not to cry, and it was tearing me apart. It was at that very moment that I vowed to myself that I would open my eyes and stop this pain that was threatening my friends hearts.
The second I felt a hot tear slide down my cheek, a sharp sensation started along my forehead and began to spread all the way through my head, and down in to my eyes. I wanted to open them, to beg for someone to give me something to make the pain stop. Everything was starting to throb, and felt as if my head was about to explode from the pain. I was begging that this was a sign that I would finally be able to open my eyes, that I would finally be able to see where I was, to see John smiling and the dimples in his cheeks. That I would be able to go to Randy and have him wrap me in his arms, to feel his body heat radiating along my skin again.
My eyelids felt like they were being forced to stay down with weights, but that as not going to stop me. I could see the darkness that would appear when I was blinking. It was progress, but just not enough. I wanted to control my body, I wanted to have it back under my command again. Fighting through the pain in my head I began to feel what I was laying on top of, I was able to to feel my muscles in, and I was able to fight the weight that was keeping my eye held shut. Slowly, I started to feel the weight giving way, but the throbbing sensation was only getting worse. I wasn't going to quit, I was so close to waking up, to coming back to reality. The salty tears stinging in my eyes was enough to break through the barrier, and my eyes slowly pealed back, being greeted with a dim light hanging over the bed of my hospital room.
"Holy...Megg?" John questioned in shock as he stood from his seat, bending over me on the bed as he looked down in to my face with shock. His blue eyes sparkling brightly in awe, and to say the least, he didn't look to well. He had bags under his eyes, a slight stubble was littering his face, and he was still in his 'Never Give Up Generation' shirt. I was beginning to think he had been there with me the entire time. I couldn't help but wonder why it was him and not Randy. I wanted to know why Randy wasn't here with me.
"Where is he?" I wanted to die of embarrassment at how weak and dry my voice sounded, but I couldn't help it. I had just fought a battle that damn near took every ounce of energy I had left. I took in a few breaths, my eyes drooping shut just the slightest as a sharp pain shot through my head. I slowly raised up my right hand, feeling it brush along my forehead as I found a gauze material covering nearly the entire left side of my forehead. "What happened to me?" I mumbled out gently as I glanced back up at John with confusion.
"It's not my place." John explained with an apologetic frown creasing at his lips as he stood up straight, his eyes radiating with sympathy. "I know you're gonna hate me for this, but I'm gonna have to get the doc." I couldn't help the tiny smile that tugged at my tired lips as I watched a playful smile grace his worn features before he turned his back to me and slowly walked out of the room, his shoulders drooped and head bowed slightly.
I knew just how lucky I was to have John as my best friend. He was loyal to a fault, and wouldn't leave my side if he knew I was hurt or upset. He was the one person I knew I could count on when the going got rough or when I just needed an ear to bend. John Cena was the first person I had met when I arrived on Raw, and he was the first person to take me under his wing, and we had bonded since. In a way, John was the big brother I never had, but always wanted. He had my back when someone was giving me a hard time, he knew just what to say to me when I wouldn't listen to anyone else, and he was always there to knock sense in to me. John was the guy that never gave up on me and the one that never doubted me when everyone else did.
I slowly sat up, giving my body time to adjust to the new position as I watched the doctor enter the room with John, a clipboard held steadily in his hand as he began to flip through the pages. He was an older man, his hair was graying, and a pair of silver rimmed glasses balanced towards the end of his nose as he studied the paper intently. He may have looked friendly, but to me, seeing him come in to my room was a horrifying sight. I might have forgotten to mention that I hated doctors, actually, I was dead petrified of them.
My hands gripped tightly at the blankets as I looked to John with a pitiful stare, my eyes glazing over with fear, he only returned my stare with a comforting grin, his dimples appearing in his cheeks. That is not what I wanted to see, I wanted him to threaten the guy or something. To scare him. It was times like this that I wanted Randy here with me, his menacing features would have easily scared this guy off. Sure, John may be big in size, but he was like an oversized dog. He may look scary, but underneath the sheer muscle power John was a teddy bear.
I watched as the doctor flipped the pages of the clipboard down flat, setting them at the foot of my bed as he walked over to the heart monitor, checking the stats, before nodding his head. "Well, it looks like you're all set to go home Ms. Summers." He voiced out with a rough sounding voice. Was that really all he had to do? Check some papers and leave.
My face was puzzled with confusion as I glanced at him with wondering eyes, he gave a tired laugh before he began to speak again. "The nurse was just in here thirty minutes ago. She changed your bandage, checked your stats, and updated me on your condition. Mr. Cena and Mr. Orton are already familiar with the pain medications you will need and how to tend to your wound. And Mr. McMahon had informed the trainers of your condition as well. All we need to do is send someone in to remove your IV and the wires, and you're free to go. Just remember to take it easy. If you feel any dizziness or nausea be sure to get to a hospital immediately."
Well that explains it. Well, most of it. I guess I must have gotten a pretty bad concussion.
Within a matter of minutes John had been shooed from the room as a nurse entered. I soon had the IV and wires from the heart monitor removed from my skin. It felt nice to be able to move around, to feel my muscles stretching, though I wasn't going to lie, they hurt more than I thought they would. My body was tight, and aching to lay back down. The nurse gave me a friendly smile before she left, telling me that a pair of clothes were placed in the bathroom with some deodorant, toothbrush, mouthwash, and toothpaste.
Slowly, I managed to walk in to the bathroom, my legs feeling weaker with every step that my bare feet took across the cold tiled floor. I leaned against the counter as I watched the heavy wooden door close before I finally looked in to the mirror. I wanted to cry at how pitiful I looked. My usually glowing skin was paled, my bright hazel eyes were dulled and the skin darkened around them, causing me to look completely lifeless. My usually pink lips were cracked and dried, and I wondered how John even managed to look at me when I looked like this. I slowly allowed my eyes to travel from body and facial features to my head, and that's where I felt like I wanted to be sick.
A white pad of gauze was pressed firmly against my forehead, four pieces of medical tape holding it down, starting just above my left eyebrow and ending at the beginning of my hair line. My bangs were draped carelessly over the bandage, looking dull and messy. Just looking at my appearance made me feel depressed, and ugly. It was no wonder Randy wasn't even there.
I slowly slipped the massive hospital gown off my tired body as I looked to the pile of clothes sitting on the counter. A matching black bra and thong was sitting on top, followed by a baby blue tank-top, a gray jacket placed beneath that, and then a pair of black sweat pants I had never seen before. I slowly managed to slip my undergarments on, following the tank-top, struggling as it gently brushed over my head. I paused, putting on the deodorant before I allowed the jacket to grace my frame, loving the feel of the much softer material on my skin, and then came the pants.
I grasped them in my hands, allowing the warm cotton to rub against my fingers. I watched as they unfolded, noting the larger size of them before a smell began to wafer through my nose. Cinnamon, the pants had belonged to Randy. I couldn't understand why I had his sweatpants out of all them when I owned over ten pairs of my own, but the fact there were his sent a warm tug at my heart. I felt a soft smile tug at my lips as I put them on, laughing at just how big they really were on me, I needed to roll the wait at least three times before my toes became visible. Finally, I had brushed my teeth, and slipped on a pair of black flip flops that were rested beneath the pants and I was done.
I walked out of the room and noticed John standing by a wheelchair. "There is no way I'm sitting in that thing." I spoke, my finger pointing at the four wheeled contraption with annoyance. I hated wheelchairs, I felt helpless when I sat in them, especially since I was fully capable of walking on my own. It just hurt too. But without pain there was nothing to gain.
"I'm glad to see you're back to your old self." He spoke with a cheeky grin, his contagious laugh slipping through his lips as he looked at me with a relieved smile, giving in to my complaint. "I guess I can sneak you out of here then." With a shrug of his shoulders, John walked over to me, draping his larger arm around my shoulders as he escorted me out of the hospital to his black mustang that was sitting in the parking lot.
To my surprise, John's usually talkative self had disappeared as we drove down the road, a tense air somehow filling the usually easy presence that radiated off of my best friend. I didn't understand where it was all coming from, and to say the least, it was making me nervous. I wanted to know what was going on. I felt like John was hiding something from me. Something that he never usually did. "John...where's Randy?" I questioned again, my voice shaking with nervousness as I looked over to my best friend, my eyes pleading with him to answer my question. I had been through enough, I just wanted to know what was going on.
"He's in St. Louis. Vince made him go back home because...Look, he was suspended for attacking Stephen and Matt when they came to the hospital the night of Summerslam. Megg, that's all I can tell you. Randy told me to have you call him when I got you back to the hotel and settled in. He wanted to tell you himself." John's voice sounded so strained and apologetic as he kept his eyes on the road, leaving me in a state of shocked vulnerability.
Well everyone, that was chapter seven. I just might have some free time to get a chapter 8 posted tonight for you guys. But if not, chapter 8 will for sure be posted tomorrow. :]