It had been a good second of four days at home from the chaos of the road. That morning, Randy Orton had slept in. It felt great not having to be at work, not having to make a media appearance at a certain time, usually at an ungodly hour. It felt even better to have the warm and naked body of his girlfriend, Memphis Kramer lying peacefully next to him. The night before after a glorious day at Lake St. Louis, they'd had dinner at a local Italian restaurant and spent the majority of the night making love. Their heated session had rolled over into the morning light. Sometimes it was slow and deep with plenty of touching, kissing, and eye contact. And sometimes it was rough and nasty with every kinky position known to man. But regardless of how it went down, it was more than clear that the two were addicted to each other.

When they finally pried away from the bedroom and each other's arms, Randy had swung by a local fast food drive thru for breakfast. A long shower together followed and afterwards, she and Randy had driven a few miles to a local haunt he favorited on his days off. He had always been an avid gun lover and his brief stint in the Marine Corp had only intensified his interest in firearms. He owned several and taking some from his collection to a nearby shooting range was one of his favorite past times. Putting on the required protective gear he fired his newest addition of a .45 caliber handgun at a series of targets. Memphis watched and later joined him, impressing her boyfriend with her marksman like skill with his .22 pistol. They spent hours at the range and she did not complain, not even once. When they returned back to High Ridge, the two lovers decided to have a low key night at home. They made dinner together and spent the majority of the night watching movies.

For Randy, things were going well. His newfound relationship with Memphis had caused quite the stir with its ensuing drama but the pair had taken it in stride. He was prepared for what was going to happen next, whatever that was, and considering Phil Brooks was due back within a few weeks, all hell was sure to break loose. But for the first time in a long time, Randy was happy. He liked being with Memphis. He enjoyed her company. He felt like he could confide in her. They made each other laugh. He had grown to care about her and the sexual chemistry between them was on fire! It had been an awesome two days…

"RKO! RKO! RKO!"

The chant of the crowd was relentless. Randy's adrenaline kicked in as he made his way to the Gorilla in full wrestling attire. His heart pounded as he walked down that ramp. They loved him and he knew it. He walked towards the ring and climbed in, mounting the ropes like he did every show. Their admiration for him was tangible and it fueled his soul. He threw his tanned arms back, striking that classic Viper pose as the fans went wild. Yes, they loved him. Everybody loved him.

"Randy…"

That voice. That soft voice that was barely above a whisper yet stood out among 20,000 others. He felt his heart stop. No! He wanted to cover his ears, do anything to make it stop.

"You're not real," he said out loud.

Bright light illuminated the ring. Randy winced, holding up a large forearm to block what had started to blind him. He fell to one knee and when he looked up again, he could not make out the mass of faces in the sold out arena but he could clearly see the woman that seemed to be floating over him.

"I came for you."

"No!"

She looked confused.

"You said we'd always be together. You said you would come back for me."

He looked on in disbelief. Rarely was the man known as the Apex Predator afraid but the fear in his eyes was tangible.

"Don't do this to me," he pursed his lips together.

Her smirk seemed to taunt him.

"You did this to me."

"You know I never meant for this to happen…"

He wanted to explain. If only she would listen, hear him out, wait for the truth. But she wouldn't. She didn't. She opened her mouth and instantaneously he knew what was coming next. The building went all black as she shrieked so loudly he felt the blood curl in his strong veins. Then it suddenly got bright again and he could start to see the faces of the fans again. Gone were the smiles and looks of adoration. They had been replaced with frightening, blank, almost zombie like stares.

"Why Randy?" they said over and over again in monotone unison.

His eyes darted around, seeking help, looking for a way out but of course there was none. There never was. There was no space, no air. The walls were closing in and he found it harder and harder to even breathe.

"Nooooo!"

Memphis frowned and stirred in her sleep. She had been sleeping on her right side and her shoulder had developed a cramp. She woke up and stretched, trying to shake it off. The room was dark and quiet except for the light of the full moon that peeked in through a slit in the curtains. She turned over and smiled as she saw Randy lying there. He was so beautiful, even in sleep. She loved the way the covers had exposed his abs and the top portion of one of his exquisitely muscular thighs. She had really fallen for him and lying in his bed in his home still felt surreal. The past 48 hours had been incredible. She was happy. The thoughts of how long it would last or what would happen when Phil came back always threatened to put a damper on their little utopia but she quickly dismissed it from her mind.

More than anything, Memphis wanted to be held. She craved his touch. Even when it wasn't sexual, there was just something so sensual, so amazing about the way his fingertips felt against her skin. Usually they slept in each other's arms but somehow during the course of the night, their bodies had separated. Smiling, she scooted up next to him. As she did, she felt his body jerk violently. His eyes were still closed but his head began to writhe back and forth. He groaned and she swore she heard him mouth the word no. He must have been having a bad dream. Propping herself up on one elbow, she reached out for him.

"Baby, are you alright? It's okay. It's just a nightmare, I'm here."

She touched his chest and in one quick motion, he reached underneath the bed. Memphis never saw what he retrieved, the .22 pistol she had used at the range earlier that day. He pinned her down with his weight, the left hand around her throat, the right hand holding the gun, loaded and cocked at her temple. Memphis whimpered, her entire being frozen with inexplicable fear. Finally, eyes wide, she allowed herself to breathe. For a few seconds he was in a trance like state before he seemed to come around. With his breath ragged, he looked down and realized where he was and who he was with. He was awake now.

Randy looked down at his girlfriend. She looked so afraid and rightfully so. He retreated, putting the gun back in the secret spot he often kept it hidden by the bedside. He removed his hand from her neck and sat up, trying to shake off that feeling he got after every time he had that dream. He sat up, trying to catch his breath before looking back at her. She was still terrified, pulling the covers up to her face with shaking hands.

"Sorry," he managed to grunt as he stumbled out of bed, half dragging one of the thin sheets with him.

He made his way over to the master bathroom where he fumbled to find the light. Randy turned it on along with the shower. He let the hot water run down his bearded face, desperately trying to snap out of it. Sliding down the tiled wall, he crumpled to the shower floor and sat, hugging his knees to his chest as he shook. A few minutes later, he heard the bathroom door open. It was Memphis. She still looked scared but she entered the shower area nonetheless. It was surreal seeing him so vulnerable but she sank to her knees anyway and put her arms around his legs.

"Randy…" her voice quivered.

"I'm sorry," he repeated, not even looking at her.

She slowly turned his face to meet hers. There was a faraway look in his eyes.

"Are you alright?"

"I, I didn't mean to…"

She swallowed hard.

"I know. Baby, I know. Are, are you okay? What happened back there?"

He nodded.

"It was just a stupid dream."

She bit her lip and chuckled inappropriately in spite of the situation.

"Must have been one hell of a dream. What was it about?"

"Nothing," he quickly dismissed it.

"Talk to me, babe. It might not seem like it, but trust me, you'll feel so much better if you talk about it."

"It's nothing."

"Randy…"

"I said it's nothing," he raised his voice, shooting her an icy, warning glare.

"Okay," she retreated. "Okay."

He rubbed his head in his hands.

"There's some whiskey on the mini bar. Can you, um, can you go downstairs and grab me a glass?"

Memphis only nodded and did what she was told. She was sure the last thing he needed after a nightmare so disturbing that it had caused him to pull a loaded weapon on her, was an alcoholic beverage. And judging from the location of the gun, away from the locked safe that housed the rest of the collection, and his unwillingness to discuss it, it was probably a recurring event, though she had never witnessed it happening to him the other times they had spent the night together. She was still trying to calm down herself. His actions had both shocked and scared her. With her hands still trembling uncontrollably, she poured the glass and returned upstairs to the bathroom. Randy was still sitting on the shower floor, water pouring off of him, knees to his chest, blank expression on his face. Memphis adjusted the shower head so the water wasn't directly spraying all over them and sat beside him.

"Here baby," she handed him the glass.

He took and gulped down the liquid, barely wincing as it burned down his throat. He polished off the drink and put the glass outside the shower onto the bathroom floor before resuming his position. He looked at Memphis wordlessly before taking a deep breath. For the first time, she saw real emotion in his eyes and it looked like fear.

"I, um, I'm sorry about the gun…" his voice was uneasy, quivering almost.

Whatever happened in that dream had shaken him to his very core.

"It's okay," she said softly. "Come here, Randy. Baby, come here."

She wrapped her arms around him and for a few minutes he allowed himself to be vulnerable, resting his weary head against her much smaller frame. Those first few moments of being awake after those recurring dreams were always the hardest. The cold sweats, the shakes, the tears. Normally it was something he went though alone. That damned living nightmare that haunted him on a regular basis. No one had witnessed one of those night terrors since Sam. But Sam was long gone and now someone else had taken her place. His girlfriend's tender touch felt good, it felt safe but he doubted that nothing, not even her could make those voices in his head go away for good.