I woke up in the ambulance. It took me a few minutes to realize that's where I was exactly. I was completely out of it, drowsy. My head was pounding like it never had before. I instantly panicked, became frantic, started pulling at the wires attached to me. I felt hands pushing my arms down, trying to stop me from doing more damage, whatever that was. I smacked them away, fighting to get up. I just wanted to look at myself, see what was wrong. It took me about five minutes more before I realized the EMT's had strapped me down, so there was no point.

Although I definitely hadn't calmed, my breathing slowed when admitting defeat. What the hell had happened? Did I mess up that swanton? Did someone hit me with a chair when they weren't supposed to? Shit, I don't even remember making it out to the ring. Obviously, I must have hit my head, but this didn't feel like just a concussion. This was worse. My whole body ached in a brand new way other than the familiar tenderness in my muscles I had after a match. I was more groggy than usual. It was taking me longer to process information. The front of my clothes were wet. I had the taste of blood and vomit in my mouth; it was all over my shirt. And to top it off, I had peed my pants. This was, without a shadow of a doubt, something very bad.

"Mr. Hardy, do you know where you are?" One of the EMT's asked me as he shined a bright light in my eyes. They were checking to see if my pupils were dilated. They were checking to see if there's been a traumatic injury, which was obvious, but they also could have been checking on damage to the central nervous system, which I really hoped it wasn't.

"I'm in an ambulance. What happened?" I asked, wearily, still discombobulated from whatever incident that put me here.

"Can you tell me when your birthday is?" He asked, completely ignoring what I had asked.

"Yeah! It's when you were fucking born! What happened to me!?" I yelled, becoming agitated. Rightfully so, I felt. I just wanted my question answered!

"Sir, you need to calm down. I need you to answer me and once you do we can start finding out the problem, okay?"

The real problem? Right now, I couldn't remember my birthday. I couldn't remember how old I was. I couldn't remember my height, my weight. Anything! Not at first, at least. It was taking me a few minutes to remember what most teenage girls had memorized from the first second they saw me.

"Sir... you had a seizure." The man said.

"What!?"

"You were backstage. You claimed to one of the crew you weren't feeling well. Then you fell to the ground and had a grand maal seizure. You sprained your wrist slightly with the fall, but that should be fine. We'll put it in a brace and give you some anti-inflammatory drugs and some pain killers."

"No!" I interjected, "No pain pills. I was addicted. Ibuprofen or whatever will be fine." I always hated the looks I got when I admitted that to someone. But it was easier than dealing with having the pills around and trying to keep myself from relapsing. "How... how did this happen?"

"Well, we believe, since there was no immediate brain trauma, that old head injuries have caused epilepsy. We're going to take you to the hospital and get an MRI done to see if that is, in fact, the problem, okay sir?"

Everything they said to me after that just faded away. A seizure? Epilepsy? Could you really start having seizures when you were this old? Not that I was old or anything, I just thought that was a disease that started early in life, when you were a child. Not when you were in your early forties.

I didn't expect this reaction in the slightest, but I had started crying. Not just silent tears either; it was bawling, like a girl that got dumped on prom night, crying. But how could I not be emotional? Everything I had was gone now. No more wrestling. No more motocross. No more being... well, me! I couldn't be the carefree, fun loving, wild, wacky self that I'd always been. It was over.

When I got to the hospital, Matt had come to see me for a few hours. He brought my tablet to me which I was super grateful for. Thank god! Otherwise, I might just die there from boredom. Now, I could at least watch some Hulu or go on Instagram or something.

When he left, he said, "Hey, bro. Don't let this get you down. This isn't the end. We'll all be here for you."

It was sweet that he was trying to make me feel better about the whole thing, but it just made me feel worse. I didn't want to be a burden. And I especially didn't want my dad, in his old age, worrying about my health. It was supposed to be the other way around.

Matt had to leave then to check into his hotel. It was getting late, so I wasn't expecting any other visitors. I laid back, getting ready to watch old episodes of The X Files and try go keep myself entertained in the next couple of hours until I got out.

While watching my show, I had actually started to go to sleep. I was exhausted to a level I didn't know existed. At this point, there was nothing in the whole world I wanted more than just a few minutes of sleep. My whole body was screaming for it. But everytime a nurse came in and caught me napping, I'd get woken up. They kept saying it was unsafe for me to sleep for the next eight hours. If she only knew how insane that sounded to me... That was torture!

That was it I really didn't think there would be anything that could make me feel better at that point. That was, until he walked in.

"Adam?"

He was still as gorgeous as ever. The biggest, brightest smile you ever saw and the gentle, hazel eyes that warmed you to your soul. He was still fit, which was good. It meant he didn't let retirement turn him into a lazy couch potato, like he always claimed it would.

"Hey, man. I heard what happened. Came to see how you were." He said, handing me an all white, furry teddy bear and a bag of skittles.

"Teddy bear? Really?" I asked, bemused.

"Thought you could do something cool to it. Hardy-fy it, you know." He smiled.

"So... how'd you find out? And how'd you get here so fast?" I asked.

"Matt called. And Tampa's pretty close to where I am." He replied, "How are you feeling?"

"Alot like after that last ladder match me and you had." I said, and he chuckled, "Only everything is taking three times as long to understand. And I bit off a big chunk of my tongue and on the inside of my lip, so everything tastes like blood, no matter what I do. And I have to leave here in a shirt covered in puke and pissed pants."

"Ouch. Well... I know that's gotta suck, but... I meant, how are you feeling? About all this?" He asked, as he sat in the chair next to my bed.

I sighed, defeatedly. I hated opening up like that to people, but this was Adam. It was different. He used to be someone who I ran to with this stuff all the time. So I guess I could trust him."Pretty miserable. Pissed off at the world. Don't know what I'm going to do next. If I can even do anything I enjoy anymore. I just... I wish I would just wake up and have this all be a dream." I said, tugging at my hair in frustration. "I always knew it would be some medical disaster that would take me out. I just thought I'd at least do it in the ring, you know?"

"Yeah. I definitely know." He replied. Of course he did. He had to retire because of his neck, his spine... but I think he always thought the same way I did. He thought it'd be some big trick that didn't go right. Hell, he might have even thought we'd be in that match together. I know I did at one point in time. "So, what's the plan? Have they told you anything?"

"They did the MRI. Rushed it for me, since I'm so pretty..." I joked, before adding the hard news, "They said there's a mass of dead brain tissue on the left parietal lobe that's sending out random electrical signals and it's causing the seizures. They can happen anytime now, unless they find a medication that gets rid of them completely. But that's pretty unlikely. Usually it will just lessen the severity it hits you when you have one."

"Damn, I don't even know what to say. I'm really sorry, dude."

"Yeah, you know what the worst part is? It's not the pain. Pain, I can deal with; that's nothing. It's everything I have to give up now. I can't drive, in case I have one behind the wheel. I can't go to parties, concerts... anywhere with strobe lights. I can't even go to the bathroom and lock the door now! I have to have someone check on me in the shower!" I exclaimed. I couldn't help it, I had started crying again.

He grabbed my hand, squeezing it tightly. "Hey, hey, hey... you'll be okay, man. I know it seems like the end now. But you'll get past this. Trust me."

"I know you think you understand, Adam. But this is a little different than what happened to you."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't know what a seizure is like, but I've seen a lot of them in the last few years. At least, two a week on average."

"Really? How?" I asked, intrigued. Adam never told me anything like that! Then again, it's not like we kept in touch much the last few years either. A few texts here and there, a phone call or two, but not like it used to be. We used to call or text eachother about four times a day with funny stories or ideas, now I'm lucky if it's four times a month.

"I have a cousin, Ren. Well, her name is Lorencia, but don't ever call her that. She hits hard... But yeah, she's epileptic too. She used to live with a guy, Frankie, and he would watch out for her, take care of her during her seizures as best he could. But they broke up, so she came to live with me." He said, "And now... I'm asking you to do the same."

"Live with you?"

"Well, I'm not asking you to marry me or anything." He said, which I replied, jokingly, with a disappointed 'awwww!'. He laughed and continued, "Just for a while. However long you want, really, until you can cope with this better on your own. And I think talking to Ren would help you. Trust me, she'll scare you about this stuff, but you'll be glad you heard her stories... If you don't want to, no harm done. But I think it would be better if you did. At least be around people who know what to do when it happens."

Live with him? Was he serious? It would be nice to get some insight on all of this, but was I really ready to pack it all up at the drop of a hat and move for awhile? I don't know. I mean, I practically barely see my house as it is. But then, what would happen if I did go home? I'd have Matt, Dad, Shannon, Shane... everyone I knew babysitting me constantly and trying to treat me like an invalid. At least with Adam I knew that wouldn't happen. He hadn't changed how he's treated me so far, at least.

And he's always been really compassionate and caring, in his own way. He does try to put up a tough front, but once you get to know him, you see he's the sweetest guy you'll ever meet. And, plus, he was one of the best friends I ever had once, so it would be nice to try to relinquish that closeness we once shared.

I finally answered, "You know what? Yeah. I think I will."

I didn't know if I was making the right decision, but something in Adam's eyes made me think that I was.