DISCLAIMER: As much as it breaks my heart to admit it, I do not own anyone or anything connected to Vince McMahon and his awesomeness. I can only claim property rights of OC.

***A/N – Here is Part 2 – Please be warned – the end of this chapter gets graphic and mentions suicide. If you are easily offended, you have been warned! The part in italics is a sort of flashback from Randy's perspective. ***

Randy held on to Claire as they made their way to her room. Her steps were fairly steady as they moved down the hall towards her room. She was able to answer all of his questions, no matter how many times he asked the same ones. Claire unlocked the door and stepped inside. She hoped Randy would see her to the door, then leave. Her luck didn't hold out. Randy stepped inside the room and motioned toward the bathroom.

"You really should get out of those wet clothes." If you can call that bikini clothes Randy thought.

Claire quickly pulled clothes from her suitcase and stepped into the bathroom. She closed the door and leaned against it. What the hell is going on? Claire couldn't help but wonder. Randy's behavior startled her. It was so out of character. She would never have thought he was capable of being so caring. He had carefully held on to her the entire way to the room. She could still feel the warmth of his hand pressing against her back. Why did he have to go and change things just when she thought she had figured him out? Claire wished for a shower but she couldn't risk it. Randy stood beside the door to the bathroom, ears straining for the slightest sound. He kept his eyes trained on the door, watching for Dennis. He didn't want to go too far in case she needed him. Randy sighed in relief as the door opened and Claire stepped back into the room. She still looked a little pale but her eyes were no longer glassy. That was encouraging. Randy kept looking toward the door, wishing Dennis would hurry. He was impatient to make sure Claire was going to be alright.

Worriedly, Claire looked at Randy. "Thank you."

Surprised, Randy looked at her. He nodded once and went back to watching the door. He sure as hell hadn't expected her thanks. He was just so damned grateful that he had been there when she needed him. It was a feeling he could get used to.

"You know you really don't have to stay."

Again, Randy's eyes moved to her. "I want to. If that's okay with you." The last part was said softly.

How could she refuse him? He was genuinely concerned. With a heavy sigh, Claire sat down on the bed. She just felt so out of her element. What the hell was she supposed to say to him now? She was starting to get more and more uncomfortable. Thankfully, fate intervened as Dennis finally walked into the room. He shook hands with Randy then moved over to her.

"How's it going, Claire?" Dennis' easy manner made her feel slightly better.

"I've been better." Claire winced as Dennis gently probed the goose-egg forming. It hurt like ten kinds of hell.

"I see this." Dennis pulled a small pen-light out and shone it in her eyes. Claire winced.

"Did you lose consciousness? Even for a second?"

"No." Claire murmured.

"Any double vision? Nausea? Vomiting? Anything like that?" Dennis shone the light again in her right eye.

"None." Claire sighed in relief as Dennis returned the light to his pocket.

"I think you're gonna survive. Other than one monster headache, you shouldn't be too bad off. I don't think you have a concussion but I don't want you to be alone for the next 24 hours."

"24 hours?" Claire felt a moment of panic.

"Yeah, 24. You never know when you can start showing signs that something is going on. It will make me feel better if you have somebody with you."

Randy took advantage of the moment to step forward. "I can stay with her." Oh hell! Claire thought. Now what was she going to do? She was going to be with Randy for 24 hours?

Dennis shook hands with Randy again, "You've got my number. Call if she needs anything."

"I will. I appreciate this." Randy closed the door behind Dennis and turned to Claire. The word awkward bounced around Claire's brain like a rubber ball.

"What do you want to do?" Randy took a deep breath and sat beside Claire. He linked his hands together.

Claire turned to look at Randy as if he had grown a second head. "Do?"

Randy nodded and cleared his throat. "To keep you awake. You can't fall asleep any time soon."

Claire made a small noise in the back of her throat, "I guess charades is out."

Randy couldn't bite back a laugh. "Guess so. How about some T.V.?"

Claire glanced over at Randy again. "Not right now. How about we talk?" No sense in not taking advantage of the situation. She still had an assignment due in two days.

"Talk?" Randy arched a brow and looked at her.

"Yeah. Talk." Claire nodded once.

"Okay. Talk."

Claire took a deep breath and glanced at Randy. She had never seen him like this before. He was letting himself relax by degrees. She could feel the tension in him starting to ease.

"Did you always want to be a wrestler?"

Randy nodded, "I think so. I tried the whole Marine Corps thing. I thought it was what I wanted." he shrugged, "But I don't know. I think maybe wrestling has always been in me, who I was supposed to be."

"When did you know for sure?"

Randy smiled a little and looked at her, "The first time I stepped into a ring in front of a full house. I was scared as hell but it was incredible."

Claire certainly hadn't expected that. She would never have guessed Randy would ever admit to being scared. "What's it like?"

Randy's eyes locked with hers, "Amazing. It's unlike anything else. It's a rush. When I step into the ring, I know this is who I'm supposed to be. It's something I can't ever see myself walking away from."

"Why did you decide to be a heel?"

Randy considered his answer carefully. He wasn't sure how to answer her question without making himself look like a monster. "Anybody can be made into a good guy. Guys like Cena and 'Taker have it easy. They just naturally fit. But stop and ask yourself, who wants to be the bad guy? Nobody really does. It's necessary to have a clear cut balance. Being a good guy isn't very rewarding if you don't have anything bad to go up against, ya know?"

Claire nodded and kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt. "I like being being a heel. It gives the fans a chance to feel something. It gives them a place to let go of all the shit they take day to day. For the time that I'm out there, they have a place to send all the negativity they have inside."

Understanding suddenly hit Claire. Randy's words now made sense. He wanted her to know it was okay to feel. He wanted to give her an outlet for whatever was going on inside. He was willing to take her emotions and give her a few minutes of peace. He wanted to make sure the people paying to see them walked away feeling like they were on top of the world. She had never thought of it that way. Claire was struck by how, in hind-sight, it actually seemed kind of chivalrous.

"Does it bother you?" Claire couldn't stop herself from asking.

Randy let out a deep breath and stood. He walked over to the sliding glass door and looked out. He was quiet for a long moment. "Not any more."

Claire read between the lines. "What happened?"

Randy shook his head and turned back to her, "I can't answer that." I won't answer that Randy silently amended. Sometimes it was better to let the past stay where it was. There were parts of his past that nobody needed to know about.

Claire sighed, hating the fact that Randy was back to shutting her out. "Fair enough."

She could feel the invisible divide between them returning. She didn't know what it was going to take to make Randy really trust her. Maybe he never would.

Several hours later - - -

Randy hadn't moved from his seat in the last few hours. It was just after 4 A.M. He had been awake the whole night, keeping a eye on Claire. He had finally let her fall asleep a couple of hours ago. She was snuggled in the center of the bed, sleeping peacefully. Her hand was curled under her pillow, the blankets pulled up to her chin. Randy couldn't get over how peaceful she looked. Or how beautiful. He couldn't help but look at her. She was so delicately formed, yet so perfect. She really was so different than most of the women that had crossed his path. In all their time together, she had never tried to manipulate him. She didn't have an agenda, she wasn't out to use him to get famous. She was just your average, girl-next-door type. And he was totally head over heels for her.

Claire's question kept coming back to him Does it bother you? If she only knew the truth. He wondered what she would say if she knew the truth. Once, in another lifetime it seemed, Randy had been the good guy. He had played by the rules; never questioned authority, never bucked the system.

All it had taken to change that was a pretty little blonde named Rosalyn. Randy had met her one weekend on R&R. It had been love at first sight. Rosalyn had been pretty and smart. And she thought Randy could do no wrong. Their relationship had progressed so quickly. Before he knew it, things had gotten serious. Randy had thought they would be together forever. He was beginning to think that without her, he didn't have a future. He had been stunned when she'd come to him, pregnant and scared. Hell, he'd been terrified. He was barely 19. He wasn't ready to be a father but he had every intention of doing right by Rosalyn. The proposal had caught them both off guard. He would be well and damned if his child wasn't born within the shelter of marriage. Rosalyn cried as she broke his heart. Not only was she pregnant, the baby wasn't his. Randy thought his heart had shattered. Rosalyn had been his one and only. When he was with her, nobody else existed. She had stood there, with tears in her eyes and told him the whole, ugly truth.

The following days had passed in a haze of misery and anger. He just couldn't understand how he had been so wrong. How had he misjudged Rosalyn to that degree? Unknown to Randy, his misery was going to increase ten-fold. It was early in the morning when Randy's CO had pulled him from training. He had taken Randy into an empty office and asked him to sit. There, in the drab gray confines of that little room, Randy's world came to an end. Gunny informed him that Rosalyn's body had been found. She had taken a bottle of pain killers and chased it with a bottle of vodka. They never found a letter or any indication of why. That was the part Randy couldn't deal with. WHY?

Randy's eyes closed as he remembered walking into crowded funeral home. He didn't recognize anyone. He had slowly moved thru the crowd, feeling like he was drowning in a sea of emotion. He stood before her casket, unable to believe the sight before him. Her delicate features were composed as if she were merely resting. She just looked so peaceful, so unburdened. Randy had stood there silently, fighting back the flood of tears that threatened to consume him. He never heard Rosalyn's father approach. He also never saw the punch coming at him. One moment he was looking down at Rosalyn, the next he was sprawled on the floor, looking up into the outraged face of a man who had lost his entire world.

"You sonofabitch! You did this to her! YOU KILLED MY BABY! She killed herself. BECAUSE OF YOU!" Rosalyn's father had collapsed into the arms of the security guard that had come into the room. The waves of despair coming from the other man took Randy's breath away. He watched in horror as Rosalyn's father was lead away. The other man's words echoed in his brain You did this. Randy pulled himself up from the floor, wiped a hand across his bleeding mouth. He straightened his uniform and forced himself to walk calmly out of the room as if nothing had happened. He went to the nearest bar and drank himself into oblivion. The booze worked for a while; killing the pain so that he could half-way function. After a while, the booze didn't work so well. That was the first time he had gone AWOL. It had taken a while, but finally his father had found him, stinking drunk in his best friend's apartment. It had taken more than a couple of days for the haze of booze to wear off. Randy hated it when it did. He felt the nothingness that had taken up residency where his heart used to be.

Bob Orton looked at his son, seeing the empty shell he had become, "I know you don't believe it now, but you've done a good thing. You took the blame for what that girl did. You gave her father something nobody else could. Because of you, he'll make his peace."

Randy had stared at his father in disbelief. Was he insane? How the hell had he done a fucking thing to help Rosalyn's family?

Bob pulled his son into a fierce embrace, "You gave that man a place to put all his anger. It's a crown of thorns you've been given, but one day you'll see. Sometimes the best thing you can do is help people own what they feel."

Randy slowly opened his eyes, bringing the room back into focus. Claire was still sleeping, totally unaware of his emotional turmoil. That was just the way Randy wanted it. The less anyone knew about his past, the better off everyone would be.

** A/N – Please review. **