No Mercy had arrived and Christy had still not been found. Batista had spent all of Saturday and early Sunday morning looking for her, but much to his, Randy, and Stacy's dismay, Christy remained missing. Finally, after hours and hours of searching, Randy finally convinced Dave to take a rest before his match against Lesnar.
No Mercy had been relatively good for Dave and his friends. Ken Kennedy may have lost to Eddie Guerrero, but Bobby Lashley, the Mexicools, and Randy Orton all won their respective matches. Lashley might now be sporting a busted shoulder and Randy did suffer a concussion, but No Mercy seemed to be going well.
But now wasn't the time to relax. As Batista's theme music hit, the champion stalked down the ramp; his eyes never leaving those of Brock Lesnar –who waited patiently in the ring. This would be his toughest challenge yet…
Dave sat by the hospital bed, both his hands grasping Christy's left hand gently, but firmly. He sat there in his sweats and t-shirt with his ring gear still on underneath; he hadn't even bothered to shower or change after the match. It was only during the past few minutes that he had even allowed the doctors to stitch the massive gash on his forehead closed. When he had burst through the doors of the hospital; sweaty, bruised, and bloody, the doctors had thought he was in an accident. Truth be told, he was in an accident; an accident called the F-5…
Flashback…
Batista and Lesnar locked up once again. Fueled by his ever-increasing fury, Dave drove Brock into the turnbuckle. The referee stepped in and demand that he back off, but instead, he swung himself around and whipped his opponent into the opposite corner; sternum first. Brock rose to his feet, his hands furiously trying to massage the pain from his chest.
"Where is she?" Dave demanded form the other side of the ring. But Brock simply smirked darkly.
This only served to anger "the Animal" further and he charged to attack. But his charge was anticipated and he was caught in a belly-to-belly suplex as the momentum shifted. The momentum continued to shift back and forth as the match progressed, most often favoring Lesnar over Batista. During the match, Dave's forehead was sliced open by one of the exposed turnbuckles. Finally Dave exploded off the ropes with a vicious clothesline and knocked Lesnar to his back.
"Where is she?" He demanded again, spit flying. Lesnar just smirked and pointed to the ramp.
Dave spun around and his eyes widened in shock. There stood Eddie Guerrero. In his arms he held and unconscious Christy; bound and gagged. Dave stood there in a trance; his eyes burning with unshed tears of rage and fear.
This momentary distraction was all it took for Lesnar to hoist Dave up on his shoulders and deliver the F-5 with punishing results. For the first time, Dave was pinned in a championship match; the new World Heavyweight Champion was Brock Lesnar…
End Flashback…Dave remained rooted in his position, silently thanking whatever angel watched over him for protecting Christy as well. They had been so lucky, he realized. Guerrero could have easily done so much worse to poor Christy. Thankfully, Guerrero left her on the ramp after the match and Stacy was able to rush Christy to the hospital.
"You okay?" Dave's head snapped around to find Randy Orton leaning up against the doorframe. "The doctors said she'd be fine. She's been completely checked out; she just needs some time to rest." Randy said, his voice lacking the usual carefree attitude. "And so do you."
"I'll be fine," Dave insisted. In actuality, his head was pounding and he knew he smelled like the back end of a garbage truck.
"Listen," Randy said, a slight edge in his voice. "Go back to the hotel, take a shower, and change. Stacy and I will stay here and watch Christy while you're gone."
Dave sighed. He didn't like it, but knew that Randy's idea was the best one all night. "I'll be back soon," he whispered to Christy and reluctantly released her hand…
"We need help," Stacy blurted out from where they were sitting. "We can't keep going on like this; someone is going to get seriously hurt."
"Well what do you want me to do?" Randy asked. "Most of everyone on the Smackdown! roster don't want anything to do with us at this point in time. Who would take our side? Kennedy and Lashley already said that they don't want to get in the middle of this feud. I'm sure that Mysterio, Booker T, and the Legion of Doom would want to help us, but they're out of action for a while. That, and Taker and Benoit won't be cleared to wrestle for months or weeks in the very least. The two of them were some of the only guys on the roster to ever beat Lesnar!"
"So we just need to find someone else!" Stacy cried. "Why don't we call up some of your friends on RAW? Big Show, Angle, and Cena all hate Brock. Why don't we call them?"
"Sorry, Stacy," A voice said. Randy and Stacy turned around to find General Manager Theodore Long. "I already spoke to Vince about that, and he won't allow anyone from the active RAW roster to come to Smackdown!"
"So what do we do?" Randy demanded.
"Um," Stacy began uncertainly. "I think I have an idea. But you might not like it."
"Tell me," Randy said. "At this point I'm willing to try anything; for Christy's sake. For all our sakes." Stacy whispered something in Randy's ear and his eyes widened. "Aw hell," he grumbled. "Dave is not going to like this."
"We don't have a choice," Stacy countered. "We need someone who can definitely stand up to Brock and whatever he throws at us. And we know that he's done it before.Besides, what do we have to lose by asking?"
"You just let me know how I can help," Long said. "And I'll do everything in my power to bring this guy to Smackdown!"
Randy sighed in exasperation. Tomorrow was going to be a long day…
(A/N): So who are Randy and Stacy going to call? And more importantly, will he help them. R&R people.