I was sitting backstage at House of Hardcore, Tommy Dreamer's promotion, waiting for my match. I was in a match with Balls Mahoney, also known as Jonathan Rechner. It was an exciting time for me, and I knew the only person who would be brave enough to book me in a match like this was Tommy, so I was thankful.

"Are you sure you're ready for this, Kid?" Balls asked me, grabbing my hand and helping me off the floor, where I had been preparing myself for our match.

"Hell yeah! This is a dream come true for me. I grew up watching the original ECW, amazed by how insane everything would get with you guys. Getting to tag with Balls Mahoney in a hardcore, anything goes intergender tag match is seriously at the top of the list of things I wanted to do in my wrestling career," I replied excitedly.

"You know there will be blood, don't you? RVD's no joke and he's tagging with that CZW girl Havok. This is gonna be a rough match. You've been wrestling how long?"

"Three years. Though, I'm not a squeamish girl, afraid of blood or taking the rough bumps. I grew up with only brothers. If I couldn't handle rough bumps, I wouldn't have survived. I guess it made wrestling an easy choice for me."

"If things get out of control, tag me in. I'll take the worst of it. I don't mind getting a beating. Gets the adrenaline going," he told me.

"I'll be good. Promise."

Tommy Dreamer came in the back to check on us.

"You two ready? Moira? Are you sure you're still okay with doing this?" he asked, seeming nervous about me actually going through with the match.

"Tommy, I'm good. I just went through this with Balls. I'm fine. I'm excited."

"Well then you're up next. Good luck, have fun, and please don't die, Moira. Your father will kill me, Kid."

Balls and I laughed as we grabbed our weapons of choice, me a baseball bat covered in barbed wire, Balls his signature chair covered in barbed wire. We made our way to the ready position and when Balls' music started, we made our way out to the ring. Everything was perfect. The crowd gave us a huge pop, as they sang "Big Balls" by AC/DC, with us.

The match was perfect. Havok and I tore each other apart. She was a brutal competitor and I was in my element when I started the match with her. I even had a few spots with RVD. Balls had a few spots with Havok, where she showed that she's just as tough as any man in the business, and, in the end, even though Balls and I lost to Havok and RVD, the crowd was over on all four of us. We put on the match of our lives and the crowd knew it. At points they didn't know who to cheer for, me and Balls or RVD and Havok. It was great, the best reaction a professional wrestler could ever ask for.

When we got to the back of the venue, Havok went right to her boyfriend, Sami Callihan. Balls went right to his son, Chris. RVD got right on his phone, calling his wife. Tommy came right for me, bringing me to the trainers.

"Tommy, I'm a grown-up. I'm okay. Really," I said, groaning a bit at his overprotective nature.

"I know Moira, but I'm more afraid of your father than you, so humor me, will you, Kid? You're pretty bloody," he replied, and I couldn't help but give in because it was Tommy.

"Fine, Scaredy Cat," I said teasing him.

When the trainers finished checking me, I just needed a few stitches on the side of my head, and a few others on my chin. Other than that, I was fine. As was the usual when I worked an event with Tommy, Balls, and some of the others, we all went out for dinner after the ring and chairs were taken down, signaling that the event was truly over. Tommy took a pic of Balls and I cleaned up after the show so I would have a memory of one of the best nights of my life, especially since in just a few short months I was supposed to be heading to WWE. I didn't have much more time on the independent circuit to mess around like this. No matter what happened when I joined WWE, it would never compare to what I've accomplished on the independent wrestling scene, and I knew I would miss the freedom.

When we got to the diner, we all shared stories about the craziness of being on the road. Me, being the youngest of the group, had the fewest stories to share, but I loved listening to the stories about how each of them had done their time in one or more of the bigger companies, WWE, Ring of Honor, and TNA Impact, explaining why they wouldn't trade the experiences for anything in the world, even if they weren't what they expected. These guys were as much my family as was my blood, and I loved them so much. Knowing once I left for WWE I wouldn't know if or when I'd see them, I was taking in every story, every show that they were all at with me.

While we were waiting for dessert, I got a text from my dad, who was at his own show in another state asking about my match. I sent him a pic Tommy took during the match and the pic of me and Balls after we cleaned up. Dad wasn't thrilled, he complained about me getting into such bloody, rough matches. I pointed out to him that I was happy doing what I was doing before I reminded him that, because of the deal we'd made, I didn't have many more of these nights of freedom with these guys left. He told me to enjoy myself. I knew it couldn't have been easy for him to give in that easily.

"Was that your dad?" Balls asked, peeking over my shoulder as I put my cell phone away.

"Yup. Trying to be overprotective. I pointed out that I have a limited number of nights of freedom before I surrender myself to the man so he let it go," I replied, sighing.

Everyone laughed.

"Never let them change you, Moira. You're a great wrestler. Don't let them put you in some skanky outfit and tone down your talent to make someone else look better. You're way too good for that," Balls said to me.

"And if they try, point out that you're an Orton legacy so if they push, there's gonna be an RKO outta nowhere in their future if they don't change their mind," Tommy said laughing, making everyone else laugh.

"I still can't believe you're Randy's…" Sami started.

"Bastard kid?" I finished. "I have trouble believing it too, sometimes. I mean, he was only sixteen when I was born and he was out of the picture as soon as he graduated high school for the Marines, so I guess my mom didn't have to hide it for long. When he got discharged he went right into wrestling."

"So, how'd you find out that you're Randy Orton's daughter?" Havok asked me.

"I met his mom a few times, around St. Louis. We kinda look more than a little alike. So, I decided to search for my birth certificate around my mom's house. When I found my birth certificate, I was completely in shock to find that Randy Orton was listed as my father on it," I started to explain. "So, when I started wrestling after I turned seventeen, I sent a letter to Randy's mom. With the letter I included a copy of my birth certificate. All of a sudden, I have Randy Orton knocking on mom's door, demanding she explain what the hell was going on. Mom was a little upset that I had done this without talking to her, but both Randy and I had the right to know the truth. So, after we met, I agreed to go with him for a paternity test to prove whether or not there was any merit to what I had sent to his mother. Once it was confirmed Randy actually was my father, he told me that he would never just leave me to face life without a father again. Though, he and my mom started arguing about me, but I told her she needed to back off and let me know my father if she really loved me."

"That's a good father," Balls said. "Promising never to leave you without a father again after he confirmed that you really were his daughter. Not every man who received information like that would have bothered.

"Just like you, Balls," I told him. "You'd do anything for Chris. I'm guessing lots of girls claim to have had Dad's kids. He wanted proof, which is a very reasonable request, considering who he is. Once he had it, since Mom had already given me permission to train as a wrestler anyway, she didn't argue with him deciding to move me to train with a trainer he trusted more. That's how I wound up in New York. Dad pays my rent and everything. This way I can just focus on following my dreams. Whenever he can, he comes and sees me there. Which I think is better because he and mom still don't always agree about everything where I'm concerned."

"Good man. That's what a father should be," Balls said, his mind seeming to wander.

"Balls, are you okay?" I asked, worried at how he was praising my father for what he'd done since I was seventeen, while he, himself, had done that for Chris' entire life.

"Yeah, Sweetheart. Probably one too many chair shots to the head. It can make me act funny. Don't worry, I'm okay," he said, but I still felt like something was off.

We split up and Tommy followed me back to my place, making sure I was home safe, so he could tell my dad I was home safe and sound. That night, I didn't sleep. My mind kept wandering to Balls, worrying that something was actually wrong with him. He kept praising Dad for what a father was, but he was no different, and he'd been like that with Chris longer than Dad was with me.

Weeks went by. Balls and I did a few more events together, though not as tag partners. We still had a good time. Things seemed normal. I loved hanging around him. He was always smiling and telling stories. Whenever he brought Chris with him, it was great to see him dote on him. Everything seemed perfect, normal. Nobody could've known what was coming when the other shoe dropped.

It was mid-April, and my phone started ringing. It was Tommy. I didn't think much of it. Tommy had a few shows coming up that I was booked on.

"Hey Tommy," I said, picking up the phone. "What's up?"

"Moira, have you been online? On social media?" he asked me.

"No," I said, getting worried. "Why? What's going on? Is there some scandal or something going around the wrestling community that I need to worry about?"

"Moira, it's Johnny, Balls…" Tommy started, and my heart clenched.

"No. He's fine. Isn't he, Tommy?" I asked desperately.

"Sweetheart, I know he meant a lot to you, but I'm sorry, he's gone. I talked to Gayle, his partner, and the rumors are true, he's gone," Tommy tried to gently tell me. "I didn't want you to find out on social media, because nothing on there has been confirmed yet. I felt like you needed to hear this from someone who cared about both you and Balls."

"But what about Chris? He's still so young, Tommy. He still needs his father. He loves his father so much," I said grasping at straws, as if pleading for Chris' sake would make this nightmare go away.

"I know, but it's too late, Moira," Tommy said gently.

I started crying. I was home alone and one of the guys I had come to look at as a teddy bear since moving to New York was just gone from the world. The world didn't make sense to me. Even though I knew I was supposed to go for training at the wrestling school I trained at, that idea seemed way too insignificant for me to actually go.

"Moira, should I call your father for you?" Tommy asked.

I dropped my cell phone, unable to respond. My heart was breaking for Balls' family, especially Chris. I knew firsthand what it was like to grow up without a father through no fault of my father. The difference was the type of relationship he had with his father his whole life I only got to start having with my father when I was seventeen.

My heart was breaking for Balls' friends who had known and loved him so much longer than I had. But my heart was also breaking because I missed him and didn't know how to process this. For all the things he messed up in his life, Balls seemed larger than life, invincible in a way, and I never thought about him dying. His 44th birthday was yesterday. He was only eight years older than my dad, and I would never see him again. I felt like my world stopped.

Time went by and I was vaguely aware of my cell phone ringing a few times, but I couldn't bring myself to answer it any time it did. I couldn't take the possibility of any more bad news. Eventually, I'm not sure how long had passed, my father entered my apartment. I was still on the floor, where I had curled up after Tommy told me about Balls. I wasn't crying anymore, I had no more tears to cry, but I was still broken. Dad just picked me up in his arms like I was a little girl, not a twenty-year-old woman, carrying me to the couch. I leaned my head on his shoulder and he just stroked my hair as I held him tight. By the time he reached me, I had no more tears, I had no more words, I only had my need for him to hold me.

"It's alright, Moira. I'm sorry about Balls. I know he meant a lot to you, and everything feels like it will never be okay again. But it will get better. In time, even though you'll still miss him, it will be easier to think of him and smile again. I promise you," he said soothingly as he held me and stroked my hair.

Dad wound up staying with me for more than a week. He wound up crashing in my bed with me, too. I needed him to help me sleep because I was scared to be stuck in the nightmare of losing Balls. When he tried leaving me to sleep in the other room, I'd wake up screaming. He was there for me when I went to Tommy's events that weekend, he even got special permission from WWE to do a signing at the events so he could be at ringside when Tommy did the tribute to Balls at the shows, holding my hand, holding me together, first in Queens, then in Philadelphia.

At the end of the weekend, there was a wake for one night before the funeral. Dad was by my side. He had never really spent much time on the independent circuit, WWE swooped him up as soon as he had basic wrestling training because of his father's legacy. So, for the first time, Dad was seeing the other side of the spectrum, how the independent wrestlers lived, the kinds of shows we put on, the way we cared for each other, and how we grieved the loss of one of our own.

In general, I didn't drink, especially since I was underage, but when Tommy, Raven, and some of the other ECW originals decided to have a drink in Balls' honor, Dad was cool with it, and I had to explain that I wasn't drinking. I was straight-edged, like the Young Bucks. They each had a few shots while I had a soda, and then we all started telling stories about our favorite memories with Balls. Chris stayed quiet, but I could see his mom liked seeing there were so many people who loved him, who were there, despite all of his flaws, and had so many good memories of the man she loved.

"This whole week is something I've never seen before, Moira. WWE keeps funerals traditional. Wake, funeral, family gathering. None of this partying to celebrate the life of the person we lost," Dad said to me. "It's new to me. Do you indie wrestlers do this every time one of you dies?"

"Those closest to them do," I started, trying to explain life on the independent wrestling scene worked. "None of us are stupid, Dad. Wrestling comes at a toll for each of us. Our bodies are at risk, our minds are at risk, and we're just at risk of being stupid. On the independent circuit most of us are family as close as any blood family. So, if one of us is lost, no matter how they go, we all feel it in different ways. Everything can be put aside for a few days to remember the better times, to be there for the family they left behind. And if that family is in a financial bind, it's not uncommon of for promotions to do a memorial shows with the proceeds going to the family."

"How do they pay the wrestlers then?" dad asked, both shocked and confused.

"They don't. We volunteer our time. If we care enough about the person that we lost and their family, we'll do the show for free. Maybe we'll ask to sell merchandise as a way to make a small amount of money since we have expenses to be at the show, but other than that, we volunteer for the show to do something good for the family of our fallen friend," I explained why we do it. "Most of us don't have the kind of money that someone like you have. We don't have unlimited finances to actually give much to the family, so, we'll have memorial shows, we'll start GoFundMe pages, anything that we can do to at least ease the financial burden death leaves on the family. It can't replace their loved one, but at least it shows that they were cared for, and that we'll do anything in our power to help them."

"You guys are all really close, aren't you?" dad asked, still shocked and confused by the camaraderie of independent wrestlers.

"Yeah, Dad. We are. I'm just as close to some wrestlers you and me have become since it was confirmed I was yours," I replied, hugging him.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

I picked up the pictures of Balls and me tagging against RVD and Havok. That was the way I wanted to remember Balls, always. It was not the only good memory I had of him, but it was one of the best, where he helped me reach limits in my career I never thought I could.

"No," I told Dad honestly. "But I need to keep it together for Chris. He's just a kid and he loved his father so much. Tomorrow, as hard as it will be for me, will be so much worse for him."

Dad hugged me to him again and I let a few tears slip for my lost friend. No matter what, I knew that it would make him happy to see that I had Dad at my side in this hard time, and that I would do whatever I could do to try to be there, as a friend, and maybe someday mentor, for Chris.

The following day, Dad drove us to the funeral home to say our last good-bye. As I went up to the casket, I put copies of the pictures of our intergender tag match and right after in with him.

"You always had a great story for me, great advice to give, Balls. You knew who you were and you saw so much potential in me. But this night will be how I will always remember you. It will be whenyoutook me to my best and beyond, showing me that I could do anything I set my mind to. I don't care what anyone says about you, you were a great man, faults and all. I'll try to be there for Gayle and Chris, even after I go to WWE, to try to help them in ways you can't any more. I love you and you'll always be in my heart," I said as I started crying again.

Dad led me away from the casket, holding me as I cried. Tommy put his hand on my shoulder as we walked by him. We went to our car and waited for the funeral procession. When the funeral was over and the service in the cemetery was done, I placed a white rose on his coffin before standing to the side, with the rest of the wrestlers I'd known over the last couple of years.

When it was down to just his family and the wrestlers who had stayed, Tommy pulled out his mp3 player, which had speakers on it. Suddenly, AC/DC's song, "Big Balls" started playing. I cracked a smile through my tears, and, before we knew it, we were all singing his entrance music, just like he would.

I miss you Balls,I thought to myself.

Author's Note:This was written as a one-shot to deal with the death of Jonathan "Balls Mahoney" Rechner, who died one day after his 44th birthday. He really did leave behind a young son and a wife. Moira is the only character I owned. This was written not long after he actually died.