Published September 2011; This didn't come from the public Beyond The Mat roleplay website. This came from elsewhere; Randy's character with another writer's OC diva character were in a long-term relationship. This relationship's beginning can be found in our story "Ladies, Do Not Let RKO Buy You Anything". It ended badly, though. Here's how it went down.

Hunter knew numbness. He'd gone through bouts of it with Stephanie and had some very secret flings on the side to quell the boredom. Well, yes, boredom more than numbness, because Hunter always did feel -something- for Steph.

Not just because she held the keys to the kingdom and held his balls in her purse, either. Because he did genuinely want to be with her as they grew old together.

Steph wasn't toxic to him. He wasn't toxic to Steph. They worked well together. Hell, this man who just got the bar lifted from Hunter spotting him knew how close Hunter and Steph were...if Hunter wasn't secure with Steph, or vice versa, would either have green-lighted the script that had Hunter bound to the ringpost while Randy taunted him and kissed her?

But he was picking up on a toxicity Randy had. Maybe not completely toward Eve, but the known toxicity on Randy himself. When he'd married Sam, the whole company noticed a calming influence. Not completely changed, but he'd become easier to deal with for awhile. Then when they broke up, Randy went somewhat batshit again. When Randy got custody of Tyler, there had only been a few incidents of bad behavior (Hunter knew Randy had swung toward Melina that one time, denting the bank of lockers, but he also knew if Randy had wanted to connect, he would've.)

He knew Randy wasn't one to give in to hitting women either..let's not count Keibler or Moolah or Steph being RKO'ed..that was scripted. Even the 80 year old woman taking the bump knew Randy wasn't inherently abusive towards women..Or had he become that way? Hunter couldn't know for sure. Everybody backstage pretty much knew that Cowboy Bob Orton had been a nasty drunk in Randy's youth and Randy had made mention of "seeing shit I don't ever want my kids to see", in the past.

Maybe that's a genetic thing? Emotionally abusive, sure. Randy emotionally abused people in general. Anybody who can scream at someone else on live TV that they're "STUPID! STUPID!" lacks tact. He might be brilliant as a Superstar, but the man was seriously flawed.

"If it's that bad, Randy, let her go, if she hasn't gone already. I'll make sure that the booking keeps your matches as far apart on the cards as possible. I'll make sure that you're not scheduled for signings together. But you've got to manage your off-days and work through this. I also want you to go back to the doctor."

The doctor being the company shrink. He expected Randy to protest.

Damn good thing a protest was expected because a protest was given. Randy got up a bit unsteadily from the bench, a result of the exertion of the reps he couldn't finish. Randy calculated the weights...310? The fuck, Hunter? The max Randy could usually safely bench press was 270. ARE YOU TRYING TO POP THE SHOULDERS? And the DOCTOR? What, to go live at the anger management thing again and split the cost with Vince?

Everything else Hunter had said hadn't gotten a protest. It was the doctor thing. "There's NOTHING wrong with me, Hunter!" Randy said through clenched teeth. The eye tic in his left eye and the trembling in his entire body said otherwise.

"If you're ORDERING me to go then I guess I don't have a choice..but there. Is. Nothing. WRONG. With. Me. I just know when I'm happy, when I'm not."

Hunter curled his finger for Randy to follow him to the locker room. There were still a handful of people around and Randy's voice, although his lips barely moved, was carrying a bit, attracting some attention.

"C'mere, Randy."

Hunter even held the locker room door open for Randy, before he pretty much grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall once inside, with the door shut and none witnessing what Hunter was about to say.

"The last time you 'weren't happy', you tried to kill yourself. What, you think I didn't know? You sold off all your stock. We -see- your portfolio. I SAW the transfer. David Fleihr, Randy? Ring a bell? Stomach being pumped in some little hospital in the middle of nowhere? With Ric?"

It was Hunter's turn to be pissed. Very much like Randy would be with Ted or Cody should the shoe be on the other foot. Randy was the equivalent to Hunter, what Cody was to Randy.

"IF you EVER," Hunter said, slamming Randy into the locker bank a second time, this time with a harsh shove to the shoulders, two-handed, "Try that shit again, I'll fuckin' kill you myself."

Cue to the Viper now looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Understanding what Hunter said, punctuated with the physicality, seemed to take Randy through some of the stages of grief in a lightning-fast process:

Denial.
Anger.
Bargaining.

He'd been quiet. "I DID NOT! Oh my GOD, what the FUCK, I bought Ric off! Look..that won't happen anymore. That was a long time ago! Hunter, you KNOW me, man.."

Depression.

"Holy shit." The numbness he'd been feeling had lifted and whether it was Hunter fucking him up slightly or just emotion, he felt like he'd been hit between the eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he stood there, his mind racing.

Acceptance.

"Everything I touch, I turn to shit."

With that, he broke. Thank God nobody else was witnessing this.

Fuck.

It was like he was having a flashback at this moment. Except he was in Randy's spot and Kevin Nash was in Hunter's.

Only those closest and in this certain position in one's life-the older brother from another mother? The protector of a protector?-could witness such a thing and take care of it simultaneously. Hunter had had some similar moments, although few and far between, and he was never one with as many demons as Randy. We all have demons, but Randy has more than his fair share. The man needed help.

Hunter's own eyes, which had grown steadily more creased since Randy Orton joined this company and added both cash to the coffers and stress to the staff, required a pinch to the bridge of his own nose for a second.

"It's ok. We're gonna get you through this. C'mon."

He put his hands on both Randy's shoulders. Those same hands that had just brought a bit of pain and focus to the situation were now bringing some reassurance and support.

"C'mere, Champ." He embraced Randy tightly. Watch somebody come in and think that they're gay. Hey. There's a GLAAD alliance. Fuck you.