Chapter 2: Aftermath

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Shawn was met backstage by a plethora of people and the on-call medical staff. Some wanted to check on his injuries, some just wanted to congratulate him on a match well fought.

Vince was at the head of the group, and he helped usher Shawn to the makeshift first aid station they had set up. It had been about 10 minutes now since the match had ended. Hunter had already been treated and released to the locker room.

Almost as soon as Shawn sat, the senior doctor was shining a light into his eyes, one by one. He then began to bombard Shawn with questions.

"Can you tell me the year?"

"2004." Shawn replied as another physician began examining his swollen right hand. The knuckles were at least twice the size they should have been.

"What is your name?"

"Michael Shawn Hickenbottom." He always answered with his real name. It was something that had been agreed upon in advance of any brutal match. If he was ever hit hard enough that he didn't recall his real name, then they would know to admit him to the nearest medical facility for tests.

"Who is the president?"

"Mickey Mouse." Shawn saw a momentary flash of alarm cross the doctor's face before he realized he was being ribbed. Shawn smiled slightly. "George Bush. But it's the same thing."

The doctor snorted. He wiped off the blood on Shawn's forehead and tended the cut. "I wish you wouldn't blade yourself so deeply."

"Sorry. It wasn't my intention to go deep. Sort of a rush job." He pulled the small piece of razor blade out from his taped wrist and threw it in the trash can nearby.

The second doctor had applied an ice pack to the injured hand. Shawn glanced down at it, causing the first doctor to mutter about him not keeping still.

"Sorry." Shawn muttered, feeling anything but. His whole body was aching, and he just wanted a shower and a bed. "How's my hand?"

The second doctor was making notes in a chart. "It will be fine. Nothing broken, but it has been badly bruised. Keep the ice on it for a few minutes more, then ice it again before bed tonight."

The first doctor was making notes as well, and checking on Shawn's back. He asked questions pertaining to how much mobility Shawn had and where it hurt the most. Shawn knew he was going to have to get a full physical when he got back to San Antonio.

Finally after another 15 minutes and an agreement that if he started to feel the full effects of a concussion that he seek immediate medical treatment, Shawn was allowed to go shower and change. Vince had watched the whole time Shawn was being treated and took careful note of the injuries listed on the charts.

Shawn passed a few of the wrestlers on the way to the locker room. A few patted him on the back and told him that no matter how it had ended, he had still done a great job out there. Shawn nodded politely and entered the locker room.

Hunter was in there, finishing up his own routine of changing and putting his stuff back into his gym bag. Shawn wanted to say something to the other man about the superkick but he didn't know where to start. His head was killing him, as was his back and hand. He didn't think there was any part of him that didn't hurt.

He decided to try to break the ice. The match was over, Hunter had proven himself stronger and better, so what did he have to lose? "Hey, Hunter."

The Game looked up. "Hi Shawn." He zipped up the bag and slung it over one shoulder. "Overall not a bad match."

Shawn nodded and walked over to his locker. "Yeah." He paused only a second then sighed. "About the kick…"

Hunter rubbed his jaw. "Since when do you use full strength kicks in the ring?"

"I don't. Normally. I'm not sure what came over me..." Shawn started to say but was interrupted.

"Was it something I was doing?" Hunter placed one hand on his hip and the other hand on Shawn's locker, preventing the other man from taking his gym bag out. "I thought we had an agreement going into the ring, or did you decide to change that at the last minute?"

Shawn sat wearily on the bench between the lockers. Why couldn't this have waited until he was showered and cleaner? "It wasn't like that, and it's not like you didn't get me back for it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Those two Pedigrees weren't exactly pulled in either." Shawn argued as he stood again and pushed Hunter's hand off the locker door. He extracted his gym bag and pulled his towel out of it.

Hunter suddenly looked disturbed. "Two Pedigrees? Shawn, I gave you three."

The world started to spin and Shawn hastily sat back down on the bench. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his thighs then placed his head on the palms of his hands. He waited for the inevitable.

"Shawn, are you okay? Did you get cleared to come back here?" Hunter's voice held a note of genuine concern. He knew it was not beyond his former friend to skip the medical treatment after a match.

Shawn sighed. He was quite irritable now, and full of exhaustion. He had tried to apologize and found Hunter less than cooperative, and now he was having trouble just getting his shower. Why couldn't everyone just leave him alone for a few minutes? "I got cleared." He replied testily. "And there were only two Pedigrees. Why do you always have to exaggerate?"

"There were three," Hunter stated. "Check the master tape if you don't believe me."

"Two or three, whatever." Shawn finally found the world had stopped spinning. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go get cleaned up." He stood and pushed past the larger man, not caring if Hunter replied or not.

Shawn could feel the other man's eyes boring into his back as he walked away. It didn't matter. He found the showers and hung his towel up on the rack. He turned the hot water on so that it would be ready once he undressed.

He heard the locker room door open then close. Hopefully that would be Hunter leaving. Maybe tomorrow he would be better prepared to deal with the other man at the taping of RAW, but tonight he was just to weary.

He sat down and removed his boots and socks, taking the time to rub the instep of his left foot. It was about the only part of his body that didn't ache. He stood up and removed his trunks, balling them up and placing them on top of his boots.

The first step into the shower was like pure heaven. Hot water cascaded down over his body easing some of the ache from his muscles. He stood there silently just enjoying the feel of the water.

He then ducked his head under the steamy spray, watching as the water turned to crimson at his feet. He grabbed the bar of soap that was on the rack and quickly lathered his body up. Even that felt good. He had to be careful when washing his back, for if he turned the wrong way he would get spasms of excruciating pain.

Body now washed he rinsed again and took the small bottle of shampoo off the shelf. He usually brought his own, but tonight he would just use what the WWE had provided for their stars. Something was better than nothing after all. He lathered up his hair and then rinsed the suds out until the water at his feet ran clear.

Just as he was turning to shut the water off another wave of dizziness washed over him. He leaned forward onto the tiles and rested his head on his arms. This time however, the wave didn't just pass over him. It built up until the floor tilted from under his feet. As he began to fall, he reached for anything he could find to break the fall, but there was nothing to grab but wet tile. He had a momentary twinge of regret that he had sent Hunter out of the locker room and now was alone before having his body hit the tiled ground.

The impact was mainly on his back, as he tried to use his arms to break his fall, but the back of his head did make contact with the hard wet tiles. Mercifully, before the pain could register fully, he blacked out under the stinging spray.

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