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*Present Time*
Amy wore a look of concern on her face as Jay hobbled into the backstage area. Her husband had just gotten through with a grueling steel cage match against Chris Jericho, and he was certainly the one worse for wear. To make matters worse, Jay seemed to be having difficulty standing.
"Oh, God... Jay, your face," the redhead hissed between clenched teeth. She winced as she took in the gash in the short-haired blond man's forehead, his face crimson from the blood.
The cut was the least of the Canadian's worries, and he dismissed his wife's concern with a wave of his hand.
"Not the face I'm concerned about, hun - but my back is killing me."
She hurried to his side, wondering why she'd waited so long to do so. She really *did* care about him, but... God, this was the absolute worst time. She couldn't lose herself in thinking about Adam - not now.
"Here, lean on me," she said softly. She started to lead him in the direction of the trainer's room. Despite his lack of concern for the bruise on his head, Amy knew he would need a couple of stitches. His blood was now on *her*, getting into her hair and on her shoulder, seeping through her shirt. She would have to get cleaned up again before going back to the hotel.
They reached the room, and the redhead pushed through the slightly ajar door.
"He needs some assistance," she announced to Jim, the trainer. "I think he needs some stitches, and-"
"Damn it, Amy!" Jay snapped, startling her. He never raised his voice to her in anger, no matter what. The outburst caused her to flinch. "Who *cares* about my damned head!" He looked at Jim, the man keeping silent for the moment.
"My back is fucking killing me. I think something's wrong."
"No problem," the trainer spoke. "No need to panic. We'll just look you over."
Amy stood idly by on the side as her husband perched gingerly on the examining table with a hand from Jim. She was in utter shock that he'd yelled at her. It felt strange, even surreal.
"Why don't you get cleaned up and go back to the hotel?" Jay said, giving her a short nod of his head. He winced, hardly able to concentrate on anything but his pain.
She stared at him, blinking without comprehension for a beat. Then, she found her voice again.
"Jay... Are you sure?"
"Yes... Go - get a ride with someone."
The redhead stood there in her tracks for a moment, her gaze finding the trainer's. He seemed to be giving her a knowing look, as though telling her the only reason the Canadian was being so testy was because of his pain.
Finally, she nodded. Without another word, as she was still in shock, she slipped out of the room. Her breath caught in her throat as she caught the green gaze watching her from a few feet slightly down the hall...
... Adam.
She wondered how much he'd overheard, if anything at all. Somehow, a part of her didn't care, yet another wanted him to keep Jay in high regard as his best friend. And she realized how ridiculous her thoughts were, all things considered.
The tall blond man didn't move a muscle so as to approach her, as she was still so near the trainer's room. Instead, he cocked his head, his gaze still intensely fixed on her, and gestured with one hand for her to come to him.
She couldn't resist and walked over. It was no surprise, however, for she was always powerless to
resist him.