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*April 2002*
Adam returned to the hotel with a sense of dread as well as a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He'd just come back from the arena after a house show and had returned later than expected. Torrie had returned ahead of him, as she'd wanted to head back and relax.
The tall blond man's face was ashen as he mentally replayed the conversation he'd had with Jay. His best friend had called his cell phone about a half-hour earlier and delivered some news - the reason Adam had lingered at the arena. He'd been so shocked, he'd had to sit down during the conversation.
Jay had delivered terrible news about Amy. The redhead had broken her neck. The horrible injury had occurred on the set of the television show Dark Angel, on which the diva had been guest-starring for an episode. While she'd been working with a stuntwoman, she'd been demonstrating a hurricanrana. The stupid bitch stuntwoman, who'd been holding her up on her shoulders, had dropped her, and Amy had landed squarely on her neck and shoulders.
Adam felt sick. He couldn't even fathom the idea of Amy - sweet, beautiful, caring, wonderful Amy - getting so badly hurt. It was like a nightmare.
He entered his hotel room, his mind still in a haze. He couldn't seem to focus on a single thing other than Amy. How terrified she must be feeling right about now. He wished he could be there for her - he *wanted* to be there for her.
"Honey?" The sound of his wife's voice cut through his thoughts as she made her way out of the bathroom, a white fluffy terrycloth bathrobe wrapped around her body. Her platinum blonde hair was pinned up, as she'd evidently just taken a bath.
"Yeah..." Adam replied, barely reacting to her. He couldn't shake off the nagging anxiety he felt about Amy's horrible fate. Jay had told him the redhead would now need surgery. He knew that no woman had ever returned to the business following such a serious injury. He feared for her. He knew just how much Amy loved being a wrestler. She had the same passion inside of her that *he* did - yet, at the same time, he cared only about her wellbeing - about her being healed and in one piece.
"Adam?" Torrie pressed, her head cocking to one side as she inched closer to him. "Honey, what's the matter? You look like you... I don't know, like you've just seen a ghost or something."
Thinking so fast and furiously he was beginning to feel the first traces of a headache, the blond man spoke.
"I've got to go to Atlanta..."
"What?" the blonde diva questioned, not understanding. "No, Adam - we have to go to Boston for the SmackDown taping - remember?"
"No," her husband protested, shaking his head. "You don't understand, Tor - Jay called earlier."
Torrie nodded, her blue eyes unblinking as she waited for him to continue.
"Amy broke her neck... She's in Atlanta for surgery with Dr. Lloyd Youngblood ASAP."
The blonde's eyes widened in shock and horror. She'd never expected her husband to announce something like that, and she couldn't even imagine being in such a situation.
"My... God..." she breathed. "That poor woman."
Adam nodded absently, his mouth bone-dry after revealing the truth of the redhead's awful fate.
"I'm gonna leave as soon as possible, Torrie."
"No," she protested, shaking her head, "we'll *both* go."
He raised his head sharply to look at his wife. Somehow, he hadn't expected or anticipated her wanting to go to Atlanta with him. He felt a slight twinge but shook it off.
"Okay," he agreed.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
His heart was breaking as they entered the room Jay had told him they'd be in. Amy was there, sitting up in the hospital bed, looking strangely tiny, her back propped up, hands folded neatly in her lap. She was wearing a standard hospital issue gown, her long red hair all pulled up into a high ponytail, no traces of makeup on her face. She looked so pale... *Too* pale to him.
"H-hi," he stammered, uncomfortable. Why was he finding himself wishing that Jay wasn't there, and that Torrie hadn't insisted on coming with him?
"Hey... you made it," his best friend said, looking up from the chair directly beside Amy's bed. Upon noticing that Adam wasn't alone, he stood up. "Hello, Torrie."
"Hi, Jay," the tall platinum blonde spoke, giving him a tiny smile that vanished as she swung her gaze toward the woman in the bed. Amy appeared almost catatonic.
"Hey, Ames..." Adam said softly, moving around to the side of the diva's bed. Tentatively, reaching out with one hand, he grabbed hold of one of her own. The physical contact, plus his voice directed at her seemed to do the trick of bringing her back to her senses.
"A-Adam...?" She shifted her hazel eyes so that they met his green ones, and he felt his heart breaking for the thousandth time. Her eyes were brimming with tears. On top of that, he could plainly see that she'd been doing plenty of crying previously as well - and it also appeared that she hadn't been sleeping well.
"I'm here... I'm with you," he said gently. He felt a rush of tenderness for the woman, who'd been one of his best friends for over the last two years.
A small frown crossed Torrie's face, but her husband failed to notice it. She found herself wondering why Adam and Amy seemed to be acting as though they were the only two people in the room. And although she knew what good friends they'd always been, she didn't like it. She cast a glance in Jay's direction, noting that the blond man seemed completely oblivious. In fact, as she watched him for signs of suspicion, he merely yawned and ran a hand through his long blond hair.
So much for a reaction... Torrie arched one sculpted eyebrow as she turned her focus back on Adam and the redhead.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Adam groaned softly as he came awake, his mouth feeling as dry as a desert. He smacked his lips together, licking them to moisten them a bit. He needed water, and needed it badly.
As his eyes flew open, he was momentarily disoriented. He glanced around and realized he was still at the hospital! But what the hell *time* was it?
Quickly glancing at his watch, the groggy blond man nearly did a double-take. It was a little after six o'clock. He'd fallen asleep... That meant he'd been here practically *nine hours*!
Amy... She'd had her surgery last night... Jay... Torrie... He recalled his wife saying she was tired and wanted to return to the hotel because they had to get to Boston for the SmackDown taping...
Stretching and yawning, he rose his tall form and headed in the direction of Amy's room. He recalled having told Torrie he was going to stay awhile longer before heading back to her, how Jay had announced after midnight that he too was going back to the hotel to catch some shuteye. But *he'd* stayed.
As silently as he could manage, Adam turned the corner and entered the doorway of the redhead's room. His heart pounded and sank at the sight of her.
Somehow, miraculously, Amy appeared to be sound asleep. She had her surgery, all right - the hard, uncomfortable-looking cervical collar told him so in no uncertain terms that it had happened.
Sighing softly and sadly, he sank into the chair directly at her bedside. He watched over her, as though he were her guardian angel, no thought of the SmackDown taping in his mind.
Slowly and tentatively, he reached a hand out to her and brushed his fingers against her pale,
soft cheek. Thankfully, the diva remained asleep.