What Could Have Been IV

Even after Kane's body had gone limp, the four men continued their vicious attack. Only when all of the officials and security members in the back had come out did they finally succeed in stopping the violence. By then, however, the damage had been done. Kane lay unmoving, blood oozing from underneath his mask, his once uninjured right arm caught at a sickeningly unnatural angle.

Finally able to approach, the medics quickly placed Kane on a stretcher and wheeled him to the awaiting ambulance. At the same time, the Undertaker had finally been released from his locker room. He rushed to his brother's side just as Kane was being loaded into the back of the ambulance.

"No...Kane," the Undertaker protested, the misery at seeing his brother in such a condition overwhelming him.

"I'm sorry, sir," one of the braver medics told him, "there isn't room for you in the ambulance. You'll have to follow us to the hospital."

"But," the Undertaker began, only to be interrupted by the medic.

"I really am sorry sir, but there just isn't room, and we don't have time to sit here and argue about it. The patient needs to get to a hospital immediately."

The Undertaker, realizing that his protests weren't helping Kane, just nodded his head.

"We're taking him to Saint Vincent's Hospital," the same medic told Taker as the man got in the back of the ambulance and shut the doors.

For several moments the Undertaker just stared after the ambulance as it took his brother away. Eventually, though, he shook himself out of his reverie and quickly jogged over to his waiting motorcycle. Pulling his hair back into a ponytail and putting on his black and silver helmet, he quickly started the bike and made his own way to Saint Vincent's.

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When he arrived at the hospital the Undertaker immediately made his way over to the nurses' station. When none of the nurses looked up at his approach he cleared his throat, trying to get their attention. The nurse nearest him, an attractive redhead who couldn't have been more than five feet tall, looked up...way up...at him.

"Oh, hello sir," she said, her voice a pleasing alto, not nearly the screeching wail he had expected from one so small. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a patient," he told her "a wrestler who was just brought in."

"You must mean the rather large fellow the paramedics brought in about ten minutes ago," she said.

"Yes, that's him," the Undertaker replied. "Can you tell me how he's doing?"

"I'm sorry, sir," she told him, "but the doctors are still examining him. If you'd like to take a seat, I'll let you know as soon as they're done."

"Thank you, Nurse Martin," he answered, reading her name off of her nametag. "I'd appreciate that."

"Are you related to the patient?" she asked him before he could turn around.

"Yes," Taker answered her, "He's my brother."

"I hate to ask," she told him, "but things would move a lot faster if you could fill out some of these forms. We just need to know things like previous medical problems, blood type, allergies, and medical coverage. If you don't mind."

"Sure," he told her as he took the stack of papers, grateful for a task to keep his mind occupied. Taker moved away from the nurses' station and sat in one of the chairs in the lobby, trying to find a semi-comfortable position in a chair that was designed for people nearly two feet shorter than him. Finally giving up, he started filling out the forms he had been given, trying to keep his mind focused on his task. He was not very successful, however, and the sight of his brother, bleeding and broken, being loaded into the back of the ambulance kept coming back to haunt him.

"Sir?" the questioning voice nearly made the Undertaker jump out of his seat.

"Yes?" he prompted the woman who stood in front of him.

"I was told that you are here for Mr...ah...Kane?"

"Yeah, that's right," he told her, "Do you have any news about his condition."

"I am Doctor Fielding, I was one of the doctors that examined him," she told Taker. "He is a very lucky man. From what I have been told about the attack, it could have been much worse. He left should was badly dislocated, however, and his left elbow has a badly torn muscle. His left wrist was also broken. In addition to that, three of his ribs are cracked and two more are bruised. He also suffered a broken nose, and lost two teeth."

All during this account the Undertaker had felt his insides tie themselves into knots.

"Luckily, however," the doctor continued, "we found no sign of organ damage, or internal bleeding. Given his current state of health he should be able to heal in a few weeks."

The Undertaker let out a burst of air, realizing only now that he had been holding his breath as the doctor spoke. "Can I see him? He asked hopefully.

"Only for a few minutes," the doctor replied, "he is currently sedated, but I don't want to risk him waking up. You are free to return tomorrow during visiting hours to stay longer."

"Thank you Doctor," he told her as he followed her to Kane's room.

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The Undertaker quietly opened the door to his brother's room and walked over to Kane's bed. Taker looked down at Kane's sleeping form, noting that the doctors had removed his mask to bandage his broken nose. Taker looked around for the mask, knowing that Kane would want it when he awoke. Then he realized that it had probably been so bloody that it had just been thrown out. He would have to try and find one of the spare ones Kane kept around and bring it. He could at least do that for his brother.

Taker sighed and dropped down into a nearby chair. Kane looked so vulnerable lying in the hospital bed like that, covered in bruises and bandages, with I.V.s in his arms. Only the steady rising and falling of his chest reassured Taker that his brother was still alive. It then hit the Undertaker, just how close he had come to losing Kane. Because he hadn't been there when Kane had needed him. Because he had failed to protect his little brother, the one person left in the world that meant anything to him.

"God, I'm sorry, Kane," the Undertaker whispered, agony in his voice as he took Kane's hand in his own, "I'm so sorry."

Then Doctor Fielding opened the door, "I'm sorry, sir," she whispered, "but you'll need to leave now."

Taker looked up at her, then back down at his brother's still form and just nodded. Rising wearily to his feet, he made his way over to the door.

As the door closed behind the Undertaker, Kane, still caught in sleep, curled the fingers of his now empty hand and murmured, "Mark..."