Not wanting to take Rock anywhere where there wasn't any security, all the wrestlers had agreed to take him to the arena with them. Afterall, there was a security team that could take care of him there. The cops had been called, of course, yet Vince had just told them that some people had tried to break in Rock's home and Triple H, Austin, Angle, Mick and Kane had been just there because they had gone to visit. Vince had even said that they had been 'heroes'... At all this, of course, Rock was furious and so were everyone who had been there in the house during the fight.

Rock's back, according to the doctor, had just been bruised but the wound hadn't suffered any more damage than the one it already had. From a locker room, he watched the show that his co-workers were creating in that same arena. That, however, made him feel worse because it reminded him that he couldn't be there. That he couldn't be part of that team anymore and that he probably would never be able to be there again. Before the main event with Undertaker vs. RVD, he wheeled himself out of the locker room, wanting to find a way to go home. Or at least that dumpster of a home he had now.

As he was starting to go to the main door to go to the parking lot, someone grabbed the handles from the wheelchair again and stopped him. He slumped over in his seat, realizing that he hadn't been successful in sneaking out.

Triple H had been the one that had stopped him. Smiling slightly, sympathetically, he put a hand on his shoulder. "Where do you think you're going? We still haven't gotten any plans ready for next week when those bastards are going to come back..."

Rock had been looking down at the ground, but at that last thing he said, he turned to him; glaring. "Look, Hunter, I thank you for what you did today. I really do because I was going to die yet again in the hands of those bastards. And I honestly thank you for what you have been doing these past two months, but you and I know that I won't be of any help next week. Why the hell do you even say that? Didn't you hear the doctor when you guys went to pick me up from the hospital not even a week ago? I can't *walk*, dammit! I can't even fucking stand, why do you ask if I'll be making plans for next week?" Surprised and shocked, Triple H frowned at him. Without saying a word, he pushed the wheelchair to his locker room where all the guys had decided to meet. Rock kept glaring at Triple H, who stood infront of him with his arms folded infront of his chest once in the locker room. "Now what? Want to rub it in my face?"

"I told you the first time I visited you in the hospital and I'll tell you again, this wasn't fair for you. And I'd be damned if I don't get this to stop and those assholes to jail, but you have to stop feeling damn sorry for yourself, man!"

"I'm not! I'm just understanding what happened to me. What, you think it's fun to be sitting on my ass every day at all hours? Knowing that I won't be able to even be able to go out in the ring without a wheelchair or crutches? Do you even know how it feels? It eats you up inside! That's what happens. Do you understand *that*?"

They were all silent before Austin talked. "I know what you mean, Rock. In a way, we all have; even if it wasn't quite as dramatic as yours. Remember my neck injury? I thought I wasn't going to walk again, let alone wrestle. They had said that my carreer was over. But it wasn't, you see me here, don't you?"

Angle nodded in agreement. "And I wrestled in the olympics with a broken freakin' neck, Rock, remember. Oh yeah. It's true, man."

Triple H was the next to talk. "How about my knee, Rock? Didn't you hear the reports about it? How it was a carreer threatening thing? How I probably wouldn't be the same?"

Mick nodded as well. "And when I fell from those cages? I didn't think I'd survive those..."

All of them turned to look at Kane, who shrugged when he saw them looking at him. Hey, it wasn't his fault he didn't have a story. But when all of them gave him a look and nodded towards Rock, who was looking down, he sighed and finally talked. "Besides, Rock... Do you really want to just end up this way? Like that, I mean... We have to at least get them back somehow. If you decide to stay like this, at least make them pay for what they did."

Rock didn't answer nor looked up at them. And since when did they care so much? Since when had they become his friends? The Rock didn't *have* friends. Without looking up at them, he turned around in the wheelchair and started wheeling himself to the door; feeling everyone's shocked and disapproving looks. When he got close to the door, however, he wheeled himself to a table and brought closer a paper and a pen, writting things down. "Well, we got less than a week now to get ready, so... This is what we'll do."

As everyone went to the table, smiling, they were glad that he had picked that instead of staying in the other state of mind.

Now they were going to get them back; one way or the other.

And payback was going to be a bitch...