Title: The Liberator
Part 19
Author: Angel Eterno
Rating: NC-17 - slash
Content: Slash, Romance, Abuse
>Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. They belong to WWF and Titan Sports. No copyright infringement intended.
__________________
His eyelids fluttered open again at the savage shaking he was receiving. He stared up into Christian's anxious, blue eyes.
"Oh god!!!" Christian breathed his relief. "You scared hell outta me there - I thought you were gonna pass out!"
Rob moved his head slightly in acknowledgement.
"Christian - " a deep breath, "Christian - I want ... let's ..." another deep breath
"... get away from here."
Christian nodded his agreement quickly.
"Yes, I think we should get you to hospital, you nearly fainted there and that cut looks real bad on the back of your head - may need stitches .... Oh god! I'm so sorry!" Christian was chewing his lip again, painfully aware of his hurried rambling, his demeanor uncertain. Then he made up his mind and was all action. Crouching over Rob he held out his hands to help him get to his feet. Rob hauled himself upright with Christian's assistance, clinging to the blond as a wave of dizzying nausea swept over him.
"I'll carry you to my car ..." Christian offered.
"No! No way! I can walk" Rob was horrified at the thought of needing someone to carry him, and determinedly he took a step toward the door. Fortunately Christian was right beside him and caught him as he half-fell in the portal.
"OK - so I won't carry you - but you can't walk on your own!"
Rob didn't murmur as Christian's supporting arm went round his waist, instead wrapping his arm round the blond's shoulder for support, as together they exited the building and walked toward Christian's car. Rob leant against the passenger door as Christian fumbled with his keys. He felt like shit. The effort of walking had induced the nausea again, and before he knew it he was vomiting on the tarmac.
Neither man noticed the curious stares from the two onlookers at the far end of the car park. Idly the curly-haired wrestler commented to his companion that RVD sure looked the worse for wear - doubtless the after-effects of a heavy drinking session the night before. His companion, another wrestler with short dark hair nodded his agreement, a sly snicker escaping his mouth as he observed out loud that he and Raven didn't need the effects of alcohol to heighten their night-time fun - just the contents of Raven's black leather bag contributed to that! Raven laughed at Stevie's suggestive comment.
"You mean you want to be chained to the bed and beaten again tonight??" his eyes were wide with feigned incredulity, but lurking just beneath the surface was a wicked grin.
"Oooh yes!" Stevie breathed heavily in his ear "...and don't forget the cock-ring!"
****~****~****
Rapidly Christian drove to the nearest hospital. The action of being sick seemed to have a recuperative effect on Rob, and he seemed a lot brighter and clearer. But Christian didn't want to take any chances, and insisted on them going. So it was he drove with one eye on the road and the other surreptitiously examining Rob for any sign of collapse. Keeping his foot down on the gas he turned right through two red lights - even though it wasn't allowed in this state. Within ten minutes they were inside the hospital.
One look at the state the pair were in encouraged the nurse to despatch them quickly to a cubicle to be examined by the doctor.
"What on earth happened to you two!?" it was an exclamation more than a question.
"We got into a fight," Christian mumbled, "I'm OK, but I'm concerned about my friend - he took a blow to the back of his head and I'm worried ..."
"OK, OK..." the doctor took over. "Nurse! You can tend to this one here, and I'll arrange for a scan to be done on this one - he looks as though he's OK, but just to make sure ..."
A protesting Christian was duly lead off to be cleaned up. The male nurse wondered exactly what had happened to the sorry looking duo as he maneuvered Christian to another cubicle. Got themselves into a fight in a bar he presumed. But surveying their well built physiques he wondered who would want to mess with either of them on their own, let along together! Well, he wouldn't mind messing with them ... either individually or together - but was sure neither one of them would be into that sort of thing! With a sigh he got out the cotton swabs and medicated gel, resigning himself to being satisfied by merely touching the stunning blond god's injured face - and glad he was wearing his white medic's jacket which reached almost to his knees.
***~****~****
The scan reassured professionals and wrestlers alike that there was no lasting damage caused by the blow to his head. Just a few stitches, an overnight stay "for observation", and Rob was ready and waiting to check out the next day.
Christian had spent a feverish night tossing and turning in his bed. On checking back into the hotel he ordered a single room for himself - no way was he going to share with Edge any more. He'd spoken on the phone to Vince McMahon the day before, telling him their version of what had happened: they'd been messing about in the locker room when Rob had tripped over the bag, fallen backwards, hitting his head. Well it wasn't a lie - that did happen - he just omitted exactly what the "messing about" entailed.
Vince had sighed down the phone; but wasn't too worried, this was run-of-the-mill stuff to him: he'd had heaps of wrestlers with head injuries before from getting whacked a bit too hard by chair shots - and they all proved to be OK. Giving Christian the message that he wished Rob well and hoped to see him back at work soon, he hung up, leaving Christian breathing a sigh of relief that it had been so easy. No awkward questions, no remonstrations at wrestlers fighting each other.
But it hadn't made his night pass any easier, he still felt shocked at what he'd done to Rob, even though it had encouraged him to fight back when attacked. Why had he never hit Edge back? Why had he let him get away with it for so long? Was it because he secretly enjoyed the punishment as Rob had suggested? Did he feel he deserved it? No - he didn't think so - at least, not any more. And Rob - why had he done what he did - encouraging Christian to hit him back? At the time Christian had felt such elation at being able to retaliate - had felt pleasure at every blow that connected to Rob's body; but in his mind it hadn't been Rob, it had been Edge. And now he was filled with guilt - Rob was in hospital because he, Christian, had put him there.
Finally he must have fallen asleep, as the shrilling of his cell phone woke him up with a start - his heart was pounding in his chest as he pushed the button.
"Hello?"
"Hmmm - sleeping beauty there?" the voice drawled down the phone.
Christian's heart fluttered in panic. Now he was gonna get it; it was with some trepidation that he spoke.
"Rob?"
"Yeah, it's me. How about you coming to rescue me from here, blondie? I'm getting rapidly pissed off with being mauled by a sex starved male nurse. I do swear he's been prodding and tampering with various parts of me all night!"
Christian laughed, almost falling over himself to get out of bed quickly enough; relief and happiness almost overwhelming him. Almost too scared to speak he croaked out.
"You're not too mad at me, then?"
He heard the low chuckle at the other end.
"No, Christian, I'm not. Now why the fuck don't you do as I say and get your ass over here before I whup it all the way back to Canada?" The voice was demanding.
Christian was awkwardly half into a shirt, the phone stuck at an absurd angle as he tried to keep it balanced against his ear.
"OK, OK, I'm coming already. Just give me ten to fifteen minutes and I'll be right there!"
"OK, blondie." The voice drawled in amusement. "See you shortly."
"Yes, yes, bye!"
The line went dead. He'd gone. Like greased lightning Christian slicked some deodorant on (no time to shower), pulled on jeans and t-shirt only (after all, nobody would know he wasn't wearing underpants), skated round his teeth and dragged a brush through matted hair while walking through the corridor. He could always shower and tidy himself up more when they got back. When they got back? Maybe Rob wouldn't want to come back anywhere near him. The thought sobered him, and stayed tight inside his brain refusing to go away. Maybe Rob had just sounded friendly at the hospital because there were people all around him - once outside - it could well be a different story. He was so absorbed with this he didn't notice Edge walking toward him in the opposite direction until he literally almost ran into him.
"In a hurry are we? And where were you last night? My bed was cold." As was his voice: it could have frozen hell along with those glacier-like eyes.
Christian could feel all the color running from his face; all yesterday's bravado and self-confidence, he could feel every last drop draining through his boots and seeping through the floor and walls, to dissipate with the morning air. It was impossible: he couldn't speak - the terror sliced through his soul like a knife through butter. Edge could see that and sneered triumphantly as he put out a hand, gripping Christian's arm hard, so hard Christian was sure there'd be another bruise there within the hour ...
End Part 19