Hey
guys!! Sorry this is a bit late, but I've been up to my neck in coursework and
this is the 1st chance I've had to update. I know this chapter's a
bit short but I'll try and make the next one longer, I promise!!!!
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Seeing my husband lie on a stretcher in a covered in his own blood was not one of the best moments of my life; in fact I think I can pretty safely say that it didn't even make the top 100. Hell, I rate that kiss from Jericho higher then that and that was… well lets not go there.
At that moment, I honestly
repented for all the bad things I've said and done against Hunter; from the
lamps I've thrown at his head, to the names I've called him both to his face
and behind it, to that whole thing with Kurt last summer. I'd never seen him
look that bad, both in the time we'd been together and before. Even after the
street-fight with Mick Foley at last year's No Way Out, he hadn't looked that
bad.
"My God Hunter, what did he do to
you?" I whispered, really wanting to burst into tears but unable to because of
all the people around who would laugh if they saw me cry. After all, a McMahon
doesn't cry, at least not in public.
"Umm…Mrs Helmsley, your husband is
unconscious; he can't actually hear you." a medic informed me. The look I gave
him sent him scuttling out of the room.
For the next half an hour the
medics worked on him, trying to clean up his wounds and stitch up the really
bad ones. All through this time, he didn't wake up once. I eventually cracked
and started to cry. Nobody seemed to notice, which I was grateful for. It was
that or nobody cared.
Eventually the medics deemed him
fit enough to travel to the local hospital where he was to be kept in for
observation. I travelled in the ambulance with him, silently begging him to
wake up. Just as we were about to enter the hospital, he finally opened his
eyes. "Thank you God" I whispered, convinced that now he was wake, everything
with him was finally going to be OK.
And everything with him was OK; it
was me who was in a state. Do you know the first thing he said to me when we
were finally left alone? "The game's finally over, that'll teach that dumb SOB
to mess with me! What did I do to him Steph? Have I crippled him? Or have I
finally managed to put the Rattlesnake out of commission for good??"
Austin. Even after almost having
his brains knocked out by him, he was all he could think about. I had thought
that once this match was over he'd move on and stop being so obsessed with him,
but no; Hunter was still as fanatical about him as ever. On and on he went,
giving me a blow-by-blow account of how he'd supposedly torn Austin apart
(later on I'd find out that he'd actually come out of the match physically a
lot better then Hunter had) until finally I'd had to walk out. All he cared
about was that he had won the damn match, not that it had almost killed him
doing so.
Being a wrestler's wife is hard
and I think that it's even worse for me. Not only do I have to watch my husband
slug it out night in, night out, but on occasions I have to watch my Dad and
brother do it as well, not to mention all the suffering I feel every time Kurt
gets into the ring. I care for all of them and seeing them get hurt kills me
inside.
That's why when I bumped into
Christian later that night at the hospital and he told me that Kurt had lost
the title, I had to go and see him. After all, his pain is my pain.