After the Break

What was this place?

Where's Dave?

These were the first two thoughts that swam through Raiden's head as he woke up, with those artificial lights making him squint. The air was recycled, heavy with the smell of disinfectant -- to cover up the faint, lingering smell of death. Of course -- the hospital. The walls were an off-white, something he never would paint a room, even if he was paid for it, and the bed was at a strange angle. Go figure this was where he ended up -- after the match with Ivan, he was almost surprised he managed to wake up again. At least he was in a room to himself; the AFW must have sprung for a single bed room, though Raiden hadn't looked to see if he had any company.

His arm. He couldn't feel his arm, the one that Ivan so mercilessly pounded on. Raiden began to struggle a bit, hearing his heart-rate monitor begin to spike up in excitement as he tried to do anything to make sure he could feel it -- and then the pain spiked through him, followed by an intense wave of relief. He laid his head back on the pillow, looking up to the side. He noticed the morphine then, dripping from the bag into his IV. He traced the line, going into his unwounded arm. But he kept looking, staring for a moment at the giant cast and sling they set up for his broken arm, along with a smaller cast on his fractured ankle.

At that moment, he couldn't help but laugh. He looked like a goddamn mummy. But slowly, surely, his laughter turned into tears, streaking down his face. This couldn't be the end of his career. He couldn't let it be the end. Please, for the love of God, don't let it.

Dave ran through the hospital, looking for Raiden's room with a desperate look on his face. He heard about what happened, and he wished he could have been there to prevent it. Throwing open the door, Dave ran to his boyfriend's bedside, where the wrestler was in a fit of tears over his current predicament.

Doing his best to avoid causing him pain, he gently pulled Raiden's head against his chest, rubbing his back and shoulders with his hand.

"I'm here Raiden. Shhhhhh." he soothed, his heart breaking seeing Raiden like this.\

"Tell me it's not over, Dave…"

Raiden's voice was slightly slurred from the painkillers they had him on; it sounded weird coming from his mouth, if you asked him. He rolled his mouth around for a moment, as if tasting the words, before he looked back up at the familiar face. His un-harmed hand reached up and wrapped around Dave, holding him loosely; it was all he could do. He buried his face back into Dave's chest for a moment, letting the rest of his tears trickle down before he tried to speak again.

"The doctors said I might not be able to fight again. It…it would take a miracle." He bit his lower lip for a moment, not looking at Dave this time. "I…wouldn't be able to be your hero. Your fighting boyfriend." He gripped onto Dave's shirt after another moment, giving a small sniff. "Tell me it's not…not over."

"Don't talk like that." Dave admonished, placing a gentle kiss on Raiden's forehead, "Even if you can't fight, that does not change how I feel about you at all. But that won't be the case. You will pull through this Raiden. I believe in my hero."

To prove his point, he kissed Raiden full on the mouth, holding there for a while. Once the two broke away, he gave a cheeky smile.

"Besides, once you pull through this, the hero has to rescue his dashing lover am I right? To do with as the hero pleases?" Dave added with a sly smile, and Raiden would know right away what he was insinuating.

The kiss that Dave gave him full on the lips gave him a bit of hope once more; that maybe, just maybe, Raiden might be able to pull through this. He followed those lips even when Dave pulled away, giving a small whine since he broke the kiss. The insinuation was enough to make Raiden laugh -- a soft, ringing laugh, enough to make him shift, and wince as a result of the laughter. "Yes, well. It looks like your hero might not be able to sit up by himself, let alone do as he pleases with the dashing lover," he replied dryly, but a small smile still remained on his lips.

He looked away for a moment, staring at the ceiling. "That bastard…he didn't stop. He just refused to stop until he crippled me. Maimed me. Made me…made me broken." Raiden gave a small huff to himself, his unharmed hand grabbing for the armrest on the other side of his bed, gripping it with white knuckles. "I have to come back. I have to get better. No one else seems to follow the rules here…maybe I should change my ways."

Smiling, Dave patted Raiden on the head, "Don't you worry. I'll be there to help you anytime you need!"

When Raiden looked away and recounted his encounter with whoever did this, Dave's hands curled into fists, shaking in a silent fury. Whoever dared to do this would pay dearly for this, that much was certain. Putting a firm hand on his shoulder, Dave gave Raiden a hard look, "You will come back from this. But don't sink to his level. Casi almost broke my back, but I would not go back after him to do the same. That would make me no better than him."

Raiden didn't look at Dave for a few moments after he spoke. He just looked off to the side, the gears almost visibly turning in his head. "But why not?" he asked, still looking away from him for a few moments. Finally, he looked over at Dave, a clear fire burning in his eyes. "What the fuck has playing by the rules gotten me? Three losses, a broken arm, and a fractured ankle. No better than him? Perhaps morally, but…I don't know if I care about that."

His voice was surprisingly level through this; he didn't let his voice betray the anger, the rage he was trying so deeply to hide inside, though it was clear from the flame of defiance burning in his eyes. "Fuck the rules. I think it's time to play the game like everyone else does."

"And what about the innocent people here?" Dave shot back, just as fired up, "You gonna treat theme the same way a nasty heel like Ivan would? What if you put on this big bad persona and I was your opponent, huh? What then?"

He crossed his arms and stared him directly in the eyes.

When Dave shot those words back at him, Raiden's angered face suddenly fell. If Dave was his opponent…he looked him in the eyes for a moment longer before looking away, lying back into the bed. "Nnn…I couldn't hurt you, Dave. You know I couldn't hurt you like that," he murmured softly, keeping his gaze off of Dave. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you. No…you mean everything to me. I'd rather go through another match with Ivan, blindfolded, than hurt you. Than let you get hurt."

He bit his lower lip for a moment, his fire fading. The idea wasn't gone for good -- it was still nagging at him, in the back of his head, trying to get attention. But for the moment, he wasn't going to let Dave see that it was still there. He reached over to take Dave's hand in his own, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it softly. "Sorry…I'm letting myself get to some dark places." He gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. "You know that, right? That I would never hurt you…at least, not like that."

"I hope not," he answered, a bit disturbed by his boyfriends dark thinking. Sighing he gripped Raiden's good hand, squeezing it gently.

"No more talking like that. Focus on getting healed, then I get you for your first match back at the apartment."

He gave a smirk along with a teasing wink.