Chapters: To Repay The Favor.

He protected her; she would then defend him.

* * * * *

Once again, Randy found himself falling hard to the mat. It had only been a few moments into his singles match against Batista and he had been doing horrible. Randy guessed he probably had a few good hits on Batista earlier during the match, but Batista surely had plenty more.

As Randy struggled to make it to his feet, he noticed that he hadn't been thrown back to the ground by Batista this time around. Of course, the legend killer had been surprised – hoping that Batista was either giving him a break, or was in some sort of pain that gave Randy time to recover – Randy tightly gripped onto the ropes to make it back to his feet.

He barely could get a grip on what had been going on around him. All of the fans in attendence had been quite blurry, Randy couldn't make out a single face. Though he could hear loud cheering and see a slight image of fan's hands being thrown in the air.

Whilst Randy attempted to gain back a breathe, he was then only to be lifted by Batista – off guard – and then dropped by a powerful 'Batista Bomb'. After feeling a large aching pain strike through his spine, Randy lost his sight. He could barely hear the referee's three count before the bell had signaled the end to his match and Batista's arm was raised in victory.

Randy slowly turned to his side, aching in pain as he stayed down on the mat and Batista stood victoriously above him.

* * * * *

He stumbled his way through the backstage halls. Ted and Cody slowly – and quietly – walked behind him before Cody quickly ran up to catch up with Randy. "Hey, good match, Randy." He said in positive reassurance to the legend killer before he lightly patted him on the shoulder but Randy only flinched before yanking his shoulder away.

Ted grabbed onto Cody's arm to stop him in his steps whilst Randy continued walking. "Good match?" Ted echoed with eyes of disbelief as Cody innocentely shrugged his shoulder.

"Yes." Cody answered. "What did you expect me to say?"

"Obviously, not that Cody." Quickly, Ted retorted back before leaning in toward Cody. "Do you want him to think his match was good? Cody, he was being dominated by Batista for almost the entire fifteen minutes of the match. You want him to keep that up? He did horrible, don't make him think any different, genius." Ted whispered.

"Fine, then. Why don't you go and tell him that. I'm sure he'd love to hear your opinion, Ted." Cody challenged him as he pointed over toward Randy. Ted looked toward the direction that Randy was walking toward – he was half way down the hall and his hands were tightly curled in fist shapes. Ted knew that telling Randy was not a good idea, at all.

Randy continued to walk without Ted and Cody as he quickened his pace to purposely advoid the two – truly, he hadn't even cared about his match as the two assumed he did. Of course, he didn't like the fact that he lost, would anyone? But there was far much more on his mind that was more important than his match against Batista.

As he soon turned a corner leading to a hallway – which he first thought (and hoped) was deserted – he seen a familiar face. He stopped in his foot steps, noticing the loose, brunette curls and petite frame. She looked more beautiful than he remembered. She had been dressed out of her wrestling attire now and just in her regular clothes.

As if on cue, she lifted her head from the small coffee she held in her hands. She offered him a small smile once she noticed him standing in the same hall as she. Randy slightly smiled back before glaring down toward his boots.

Once his blues eyes drifted back up, she had been then standing in front of him. "Hey," kindly she began, "tough match, eh?"

He slowly nodded his head before a sigh emerged through his lips. "Look Mickie…" His mind then completely drifted away from the match that happened earlier. "I need you to…" he trailed off with a sigh, "…I need you to forget about what happened earlier."

"Randy, I don't care that you lost. I think you did great, honestly. Batista is a tough competitor, don't be so hard on yourself."

Randy lightly scoffed – not towards the petite brunette, but just the rememberance that Batista had won. How could he let that happen but as he eyes drifted back toward Mickie, he remembered just how that did happen. He couldn't focus on anything except for her for the entire fifteen minutes of the match and even the time before his match.

He rubbed his hands together. "No, Mickie." Randy shook his head as a sigh emerged through his lips. "I'm not referring to my match. I'm referring to what happened earlier…with us. Do you remember?" Randy leaned against a wall behind him whilst he lowered his head. "I need you to foget about that – forget that it ever happnened.

Mickie's brow arched. "Randy?"

"It was a mistake, Mickie. I didn't mean it, at all. That's why I did so horrible out there in the ring – I couldn't forgive myself for what I did or concentrate unless I knew that I told you this."

"Mistake?" She echoed.

He forced himself to nod as he bit down on his lip. "Yes." Quietly he said. "I was just…caught up in the moment. Looking back at it, I just wish I never did that." Mickie's brow eyes drifted down toward the arena's floor as she slowly nodded her head in response before throwing her hands up – as if telling herself she should have known – and then beginning to walk away. An urge – thankfully – forced Randy to grab onto her arm and pull her back to face him. "Wait! That's not what I meant!"

Mickie shook her head. "Then what did you mean, because I'm really getting sick of all these mix signals you've been giving me lately."

This was suppose to be easy for him: telling her that what he had done earlier was a mistake. Then he wouldn't have to risk seeming so vulernable – whether or not he was becoming quite vulernable. But it wasn't easy for him to lie to her. Lieing usually came very easy to him; now it just hadn't been so. He felt a soft palm touch his cheek once he didn't instantly answer her back. When he glanced up, he noticed it had been Mickie's touch. "It's okay, you can tell me…"

"No. It's not okay." He corrected her as he turned away from her touch. "You don't understand."

Mickie slowly shook her head as she drifted her eyes. "Just one reason, " she began quietly as Randy's brow arched upward, "…give me just one reason Randy why."

Randy sighed whilst shrugging his shoulders. "Mickie, I'm Randy Orton and you're Mickie James. What more reason do you need? You and I, we couldn't be more different – you couldn't be more off with what you think that you know about me."

"…I'm not looking for that. I'm not trying trying to make us out to be some sort of fairytale, I know we're not that. We're probably anything but and I don't want to be that – I just know that we're something and I feel like you're always trying to break what we are, what we became…"

"Mickie, that's just it. We're not anything. Over the last past few days in your mind you've written me out to be this hero, but you have no idea what I've done recentely. That's why I know you don't know who I am, at all."

"Well, what is it that you've done?" Immediately, Randy hadn't responded to her as Mickie only sighed. "…I can handle it, Randy. Just tell me."

Mickie waited seconds, moments…all just to hear a response from the legend killer but after her loud grunt, she knew she wasn't going to anything from him. Anything at all.

She ran her fingers through he brown mane. "Okay." She released a short laugh of sarcasm toward the situation. "Fine. Forget it, Randy. You're far too complicated for me to get, right?" She gestured a long eye roll before she turned away from him and began to walk away.

Randy remained numb as he only watched her walk away….

* * * * *

…She hadn't spoken to him in three days. She barely left her hotel room at all. Chances of her running into him somewhere in the city were hightly and right now…she wasn't ready to take that risk. But today, she had left her hotell room. She honestly hadn't known where she was heading to whilst she was now driving in her car – she had just gripped the wheel and drove in a direction as if she had known.

Eventually however, she had arrived at a tall, white building. Walking into the also white painted room and then soon, she was here: sitting on a small, metal black chair beside him with her head lowered down toward the ground.

She hadn't said anything since the almost entire ten minutes she had been sitting here with him. His eyes had been tightly closed and she had been toying around with her fingers.

"You know. It's okay to talk to me. I'm not going to bite you, or anything."

She heard his voice as she lifted her head and noticed his eyes had been now opened, though it looked like it was a struggle for him just to keep them opened. Mickie forced a cackle out of her mouth. "Good one." She whispered back toward him.

"It's been a week, I didn't even think you were going to show." He told her honestly as Mickie bit down on her lip feeling guilty for not visiting him sooner, but the sight of seeing him in a hospital bed had been what she feared most. "…But, I am glad that you did come."

"Yes, of course." She slightly smiled. "Has anyone else stopped by to visit you, yet?"

He shrugged his shoulders, slowly. "My family has, of course. None of the superstars have dropped by yet." He then quietly laughed, "Then there's Maria, she keeps promising that she will. But she has yet to. I think she's just scared to see me like this, you know. Which I understand why she would be…"

Mickie sighed. "John, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" He asked, puzzled.

She threw her hands in the air. "For this…for all of this! You have to be stuck in a hospital for weeks! You don't deserve this, John."

John slightly cackled. "And, this is your fault, I'm assuming? Mickie, unless you somehow dressed up and cloned yourself into three guys last Monday night…then the blame shouldn't be on you."

Mickie's brow arched. "Three guys?" John gestured a short nod in retort. "So, you know who attacked you? You saw them?" John struggled to shrug his shoulders and then winced at the instant pain of just doing such. Mickie slowly shook her head in disbelief. "John! Have you told anyone this?" John remained only silent as Mickie loudly sighed. "John!"

"Mickie, please…"

"I cannot believe you know who attacked you and you haven't said a word to anyone about who it was. What are you gettng some sort of deal out of keeping quiet? Are they good friends to you? What can be so 'important' that you haven't spilled about this?"

"You don't understand. If I told who it was, I'd never be able to get my pay back again this – they would only be suspended by Vickie and then probably switched to a different brand, I'm sure. Besides, it's no one else's problem but my own. I don't need Vickie's help, or anyone elses."

Mickie shook her head, this reminded her of how stubborn John could be – he'd take an attack from three guys and wouldn't spill a name because of petty reasons as such.

"That sounds pretty utterly ridiculous, John." She told him, but he refused to offer her a retort in retort. "…Fine. If you're not going to tell anyone, then can you at least spill a name or two to me?"

He quietly cackled. "So you can tell Vickie about it…no Mickie. I don't want her knowing, or anyone else. Not even you." A sigh emerged through Mickie's lip as John chewed down on his bottom lip. "That is unless, you can keep this between only you and I…"

As much as the petite brunette had wanted to know, she forced herself to shake her head. "No, I probably couldn't." She honestly told him. "In the last past few days, I've been through so, so much. I doubt I could even handle the weight of carrying any type of secret, at all. Especially one as big as this."

John nodded, appreciating her honestly. "Why, what's been troubling you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Where do you want me to begin? I haven't exactly the best relationship with my dad. In fact, it's pretty awful. I haven't spoken to him in weeks and the guilt of it all has just been eating at me everytime I'm alone. Melina is the only person who understands being she has just as a horrible relationship with her mum as I do my dad. But, now she's been drafted – which is just great." Mickie gestuerd a long eye roll. "And on top of ti all, there's Randy…" she heard herself say and then instantly stop as she drifted her eyes down toward her lap.

"Okay. You and your dad having a bad relationship, not so suprising…no offense. Melina being drafted, eh, we'll talk that out later. But, d-did you just say Randy…as in Randy Smith? Randy Wilson….Randy Jacobs?"

Mickie ran her fingers through her brown mane. "It's nothing, John." She told him.

"I would hope so." Instantly, John said back before noticing Mickie had remained silent which forced him to believe that it obviously was not what she had proclaimed it to be – he knew that something was troubling her which forced him to ask her the one question that he really hadn't wanted to. "Do you…uh…want to talk about it?"

Mickie sighed. "I just…I don't know. He's just easily gets under my skin."

"Figuratively, right?" John quickly asked her, causing Mickie to glare toward him with narrowed eyes as he slightly smiled. "Sorry, continue…"

"Well, I just…I really don't know how to explain us. Heck, if there is even an us at all. I mean there use to be, or so I thought. But now there just isn't an us at all and it's just really weird, you know? Like…ever since this time in the parking lot – John, I really wish you could've been there to see it. Randy actually brutally tore Dolph to pieces when he was being a huge jerk to me."

"I don't find that so hard to believe." John shifted an eye roll in annoyance, causing Mickie's brow to arch but he offered her a warm smile shortly after. "Sorry. So, Randy helped you out with Dolph, you say?" He asked her, as if he had been completely shocked by this all.

Mickie nodded her head. "Yes, he did. But since then…he's been giving me mix signals, constantly. Some days, he's really, really cold. Like he regrets ever helping me out in the parking lot. Other days, he's so warm and sweet, actually. Or at least one night he was…"

"Really? Do tell." He quietly cackled.

"…It's…stupid, really. It was just the night of the draft. I think everyone had their minds elsewhere and Randy just acted on an impulse."

"Well, what exactly did he do then?"

"…Would you hate me if I told you I honestly don't want to talk about that part with you?"

John slightly cackled. "Only if you wouldn't hate me if I told you I honestly do not think I want to hear that part, anyway." Mickie eventually broke out into a small cackle of her own. "But seriously Mickie, whatever it is that you're referring to…I really just think you shouldn't dread on it so much. I mean, this is Randy Orton we're talking about. The same guy who broke your friend's heart not too long ago, remember? I'm sure Kelly does."

Mickie gestured a long eye roll. "He's not the same as he use to be-"

"He didn't change, Mickie! He doesn't change. He can't change!" A questionable expression rubbed off on Mickie's face toward John's outburst as a sigh merged its way through John's lips. "I wish you knew, Mickie. But, you just have to believe me when I tell you that he doesn't change and he never will. He is the most cruelest, heartless being that I've ever met."

Mickie's eyes drifted down toward her lap toward the words that John had spoken. "I um, I just remembered that I promised Candice I meet her up for lunch so…" Instantly, Mickie then stood to her feet.

"Wait, Mickie. I didn't mean to-"

"No, no. It's fine. It's fine, really." Mickie said with an added sigh and short shrug. "I just don't want to be late and keep Candice waiting. So, I'll…I'll talk to you later, okay?" She quickly made her way toward the door whilst hearing John's voice call her name once more, and than twice but she hadn't turned around to face him – she hadn't known why Johns' opinion about Randy had hurt so much, but it did.

Mickie felt like she had been defending Randy more than taking John's advice.

But, she felt like John didn't know Randy like she did. If Randy was really so bad for her, then why did he help her that night in the parking lot? Why did he offer her a ride home? So perhaps he gave her mix signals. But she began to wonder why she even complained about such – Mickie never had been one that settled for anything that was predictable…

* * * * *

Poor confuzzled Randy. ): He's like THEHARDEST for me to not make AU. :| it's so frustrating, lol. But I hope you all enjoy it. I was too lazy to check for mistakes, lols – sorry – but I did use spell check. (: