Careful

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One shot fiction: Set after Kane choke slammed Snitsky into the table in the No Holds Barred match. Kane receives medical attention from an unlikely source.

NOTE: This came to me, and I'm a big Kane/Lita fan so I had to write it. I'm almost done the next Chapter to Twisted and should have it in by Monday, as well as another segment for my parody. I just needed to get this off my chest.

Don't own anything related to the WWE.

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As the music faded from Kane's ears, a buzzing overtook them, his theme rudely interrupted by a terrible feeling in his head.

What a rush…he had done many stupid, crazy things, many dangerous things in his career as a Superstar. He had cracked bones, both of himself and others, he had twisted arms, legs, necks, but…well, every new injury was like a stab into his mind, as he began to realize maybe he was better off with a safer lifestyle.

But the thrill of blood and mayhem in the squared circle called to him, a seductive Siren's song. He wished for nothing more then to feel the rush of adrenaline and pounding blood as he snatched onto a man's throat, and the fear in their eyes, the fear he could smell in their very soul, their heart pounding, pounding, pounding until…!

But as small black dots began to form in front of his eyes, and a nausea ran through his stomach, Kane once again was briefly reminded of his old worries.

Hands reached out to touch his shoulders, and he gave a vicious roar, batting the medical personal away. They held gauze and alcohol, one even pushing a stretcher awkwardly through the hall. Kane gave them a deadly glare and they were silenced and shrank back, frightened.

Why shouldn't they be scared though? The nagging voice of reason rose from within his mind. He was a monster. He destroyed lives and careers (Matt Hardy still wasn't back.), he forced women into bearing his spawn, the spawn of Satan, really, and made everyone's lives miserable. Hell, he was terrified of himself.

The small black dots crossed his sight again, and he ran a hand over his face, sweat and blood instantly covering it in a watery red coating. His every muscle hurt, everything hurt, down to his very bones, but…

He didn't want help from them. They were afraid of him.

The Big Red Machine finally reached his dressing room. One hand, battered and bloody, reached out and fumbled with the doorknob, before it finally swung open. He stumbled inside, slamming the heavy metal door in the face of the trainers.

He fell down onto the couch in the room, and breathed deeply, closing his eyes. That match was brutal. Truly brutal. But that-that thing had taken it all away…

"Thank you."

The words that caught his attention were soft and firm. He opened his eyes, and, like the fiery goddess she was, Lita stood before him. She leaned heavily on crutches, a wide and pale bandage wrapped around her left knee. In one of her hands, she held a first aide kit.

Kane gave her a tired look, "For what? I'm not in the mood for your damn ranting, so make it quick."

Lita rolled her eyes, "Just like a man." But mentioned nothing of her former statement. She set the first aid kit on a chair beside the couch, and hopped next to Kane. He stared at her, impassive. She popped the kit open, and from her other hand revealed a damp cloth.

The monster allowed Lita to slowly wipe the blood away from his head wound. She worked meticulously, rubbing gently enough on his head as not to agitate the injury further. Her damaged leg hung over the couch like a puppet hanging on by a single string, moving in occasional soft swings.

She examined the blood soaked cloth critically, and tossed it to the side. From the First Aid kit, she produced a small bottle of alcohol, and a cotton swab, proceeding to wet the cotton before pressing it onto the wound. Kane cried out at the sharp sting, and jumped back from her. His mismatched eyes glittered angrily, "What was that for?"

"Stop being a baby. You just fell on a table, this should be small stuff to you." The redhead said firmly, as if to a child being scolded by his mother. He reached out, and swiped at his wound with the swab again, taking the fresh blood off.

Kane settled back in his spot, agitated and feather's ruffled. He glanced again at Lita as she began to slowly and gently, now, work a thick, clear cream to the injury.

"…What did you mean? Before."

She shrugged, "You beat the shit out of Snitsky. Avenging my…" The words faded from her throat, but she took them up, slowly, as she carefully began to tape a bandage across his head, "…our son."

Ours. Our son.

Kane felt all discomfort fade, and for a second, he opened his mouth. Was this the right time? To tell Lita…

"Done." The words were brisk and hurried form her mouth. She stood, tipping foreword slightly before straightening herself out on the metal crutches. The moment was gone. Lita snapped the First Aid kit shut, and eyed Kane critically, "Go to the hospital to check out the rest. I'll see you at the hotel tonight."

She turned to leave, and once again Kane felt alone. But Lita turned back, and hesitated.

She bent down, and gently kissed Kane's head, her lips touching the bandage briefly. Kane winced at the short, stinging pain, and Lita drew back.

"Careful." He whispered, and she nodded,

"All better now."

She left the room, and Kane was left to himself once more.

Careful…

They would both have to be careful now.

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-Jinx