Title: Radicalz Attack

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: None, except the fact that K-Kwik hosted Heat on the night stated

Summary: If you push a Radical, sooner or later it's gonna bounce back

SUNDAY NIGHT HEAT, MARCH 4TH, 2001

"I'll see you later, okay?" Angel smiled, heading for the door.

K-Kwik followed her and gripped her hand. "You are down, girl. Be sure you tune in tonight."

"You bet." Angel left him in peace to prepare for his job of hosting Heat that night.

"Would you look at that? It's everybody's favorite putacita."

Angel spun defensively. The four of them. No Benoit.

"She's not my favorite," Malenko announced.

"We been waiting for you, 'cita. Where you been, huh?" Eddie asked.

Angel ignored him and reached in her pocket for her room key.

"Hey! Eddie's talking to you!" Malenko snapped.

Angel still said nothing as she found her key and gave them the finger over her shoulder.

"Oh, that wasn't very smart," Saturn pointed out.

Suddenly, Angel's head hit the door with a sickening thud and she fell to the floor. She tried to fight back or at least take out her sticks, but there were just too many of them. She was kicked, punched, slammed, even suplexed. Her head hit the wall over and over and over. Knees hit her stomach, fists hit her eyes and there was nothing she could do but wait for it to be over as the voices drifted past her.

"You do you like being beaten, you little bitch?" Malenko.

"You think you're hardcore. I'll give you hardcore." Saturn.

"Where's your boyfriend now, huh? Where is Mr. Rabid Wolverine right when you're needing him most, huh, 'cita? Where is he?" Guerrero.

"Take that, you bitch. That's for Smackdown!" Terri.

Eventually, mercifully, she blacked out.

* * * *

"No damn doubt about it, K-Kwik's the top dog," K-Kwik murmured, locking his room. This was going to be his night – he was guest hosting Heat. Many before him had stunk the place out and he was determined it wouldn't happen to him.

"Get rowdy, get rowdy, yo…what the…?" He shrank to his haunches beside the fallen girl. "Angel girl, can you hear me? Damn it!" He leaped to his feet and pounded on the door across the hall. "Scotty! Grandmaster!"

The door opened. "K! 'Sup, G?" Grandmaster Sexay greeted him.

"You know the little white girl, man? She's lyin' on the floor. We gotta get her some help."

Grandmaster's blue eyes widened when he saw her. "Yo, Scotty. We need to get us an am-bu-lance, like yesterday, man. Yo, K. Go get you some Hollys, G. They'll get the girl to the man with the plan."

K-Kwik nodded and knocked next door.

"What do you want, boy?" Hardcore asked menacingly.

"You're down with Angel, the stylin' white girl? Some brother don't like her so much."

"What are you talking about?" Hardcore asked, looking past him. "Angel? Holy shit. Crash, go get Molly. Angel's hurt."

They left the room and Hardcore and K-Kwik crouched by Angel.

"Scotty 2 Hotty's calling for help," K-Kwik explained.

Hardcore nodded, rolling Angel onto her side after checking she was still breathing. "Who the hell did this?"

"I got no idea, man. I was just splittin' to go do the show."

Hardcore turned to him as Molly and Crash came running. "You should go then, boy. Go do your show. We'll take care of her."

K-Kwik cocked his head. "You sure, man?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. There's too many of us here now, anyway. Crash, you go wait for the ambulance."

For once, Crash didn't argue with his cousin; he just ran off.

K-Kwik nodded. "Angel, girl. Good luck. When she comes to, tell her I'll catch her later."

"Yeah, we will," Hardcore replied. "Molly, cut your fussin'. It's not gonna help her."

Molly looked up at him, eyes wide. "Hardcore, when I catch who did this I'm gonna make them so sorry! Just wait and see."

"And I'll be right there next to you," Hardcore agreed, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of Angel's chest. "We'll teach them not to mess with the Hollys."

"Or their friends!" Molly added.

* * * *

Chris Benoit walked down the hall towards Angel's room. She had been supposed to meet him so he could make sure she ate a good dinner, but she never showed. To say he was unimpressed would be an understatement.

He slammed his fists against her door. "Little girl, you open this damn door, you hear me? Open the door!" Shaking his head furiously, he backed up, then jumped into the door, using his body as a battering ram. "Open the door!" He took a deep breath, backed up and tried again.

"You know what, mister? You break it, you bought it."

Benoit spun to track the female voice and came face to face with three blondes.

"Hollys," he mused. "Where the hell is she?"

"Oh, like you don't know," Molly scowled.

"I don't have time for this," Benoit muttered. "Where is she? Tell me!"

"She's in the hospital, tough guy," Hardcore sneered.

"The hospital? What the hell's she doing there?"

"Maybe you can tell us," Crash replied.

Benoit shook his head as if to clear it. "Is she alive?"

"Just," Molly informed him. "No thanks to you."

"Good," Benoit smirked. "Then she can valet for me tomorrow." With that, he turned and walked back the way he'd come.

"Hey!" Molly screamed after him. "You're not very nice! You hear me?"

"Let him go, Molly," Hardcore advised. "If he comes back we'll all kick his ass."