No amount of pre-match groundwork could have prepared him for the pain. There was no one way to describe the white hot intensity that shot through him the moment his back hit the canvas. Hit it.... and too many brass plated thumb tacks to count.

Some jabbed his flesh with a burning sting. Others sank deep enough to strike the bones of his ribs just beneath the skin's surface. His arms were dotted with them. It had taken a moment for his body to register the shock of what had happened. But when his damaged nerve endings finally managed to get the message to his brain, his knees went weak. Somehow he had made it through the match. And somehow he was still alive. He'd have to wait until tomorrow to find out exactly how he had survived.

As Randy made his way from the ring, he felt two pairs of hands gingerly looking for a way to assist him. He heard two familiar voices rumbling next to his ear, but the words were unintelligible. Each step he took sent a wave of pain rolling through him. His heart was pounding so hard his chest ached and the discomfort was making him nearly sick to his stomach. Each individual pain had melded into one nearly overwhelming ache. He just prayed they'd get him backstage before he undid all the good he had just done and got sick like a little kid.

It wasn't the sort of bump you could practice. It was definitely a one time deal. And even though more than one sane person had tried to talk him out of doing it, he knew that there really wasn't a choice.

He knew it, Mick knew it...even Hunter knew it. They understood why he had to go this one radical step further. But wisely he hadn't told either of them who had actually been the one to make up his mind for him. Mick probably would have understood. But Hunter? Never.

There was no way he could tell him that it had been Rock who had made him see that not only was it right....it was necessary.

Rock alone knew what he was feeling. Being a third generation wrestler wasn't a legacy or a gift. It was a curse. A burden to be carried until you could do that one thing that made you stand out. That one thing that made everyone else look at you and finally accept that you did indeed have what it takes.

But there was no reason for Hunter to be made aware that another man...especially that man...had proven to be such an influence on him.

As they passed through the curtain that separated real life from fantasy he couldn't remember ever feeling that grateful to get backstage. He released a long held, shaky breath and allowed Ric and Dave to bear his weight since he no longer could.

He couldn't recall walking, but he did remember stopping. And the feel of that warm, gentle hand holding his face. His voice was calm, reassuring....and proud. Randy managed to raise his head slightly. Just long enough to look into Hunter's hazel eyes. And the care and concern he heard in his voice was mirrored there.

That was pretty much all he remembered until now.

He was lying on his stomach, the sheets beneath him pressing a delicious coolness into his skin. The light in the room was dim and he could hear soft footsteps. His eyes were closed, but when he felt the bed shift under someone else's weight, he forced them open just a crack.

"You ok?"

His voice was whisper soft. A stark contrast to the one people were used to.

"Don't know," he replied after a short pause. "Can't feel much of anything."

"That's the painkillers," Hunter said with reassurance. His fingers brushed against Randy's forehead as he spoke.

"You did a hell of a job out there tonight. You should be proud."

Randy tried to smile. At least he thought he did. "Thanks."

In spite of the drugs now coursing through his system, he indulged in the feel of Hunter's fingers trailing through his close cropped hair.

"You should go back to sleep. I'll be right here if you need anything."

Randy let his lids drop down as he sighed softly. Sleep was closing around him like a soft cloud and as he sank into it's welcoming embrace he heard a single murmured phrase.

"I love you Randy."

Funny what a little pain medication could make you imagine.

Read the side step Acceptance to the Game Plan Series