Post by Andrew Jacobsen on Feb 20, 2017 5:59:16 GMT
Andrew opens his eyes slowly, groaning as he sits up. Danielle reaches over, pushing him gently back into the bed, and shakes her head, looking him up and down with worry in her eyes.
"Jesus, Andy...you look like you got hit by a bus."
Andrew manages to crack a grin, weakly chuckling before clutching his ribs. The smile doesn't fade, though, and he looks back up at Danielle.
"I, uh...got hit by Spike Kane. That's like a bus, right? Kinda like a bus?"
Danielle groans into her palms, her irritation surfacing back over her concern in the way that has become so familiar in her interactions with her client-turned-boyfriend. She reaches over, patting his shoulder and smiling down at the battered form of the North Star.
"You know, there's something to be said there...but where do you go from here? I doubt Spike's going to let you get another crack at him, and...well, he kind of almost snapped your spine in half."
Andrew's reply comes as smoothly as can be for someone who was not a week ago powerbombed thirty feet into the mat can speak. It's not much, but hey, it's something.
"Almost, Dani. He didn't. And I'm not stopping here. I got to him. I made him react. And if I can get to him, I can get through to him. And if I can get through to him, there's a chance for him...and there's a chance for Warren."
Danielle nods again, wincing as she reaches down and takes Andrew's hand. Her voice is as comforting as she can make it, but even with her ability to handle the emotions of her job the worry is noticeable again in her voice.
"You...you really care about that kid, don't you? He got you fired, Andrew. You don't owe him anything. You don't even owe Spike anything. You can walk away from this. God, part of me wants you to walk away from this. If you keep it up, it's not going to be a maybe. He's going to do bad things to you, Andy. You don't need to do this. Stick with Nighthawk. He wants to be your partner, and I think you could do a lot worse than running with him as an ally. You're not a lone wolf, no matter how hard you might act like it...you need friends, Andy. Take this one."
Andrew takes a deep breath, struggling to sit up, but manages to power through the pain to get to that sitting position. He leans against the backboard of the bed he's sitting in, letting out a slow, pained sigh, and looks over at Danielle again, breathing heavily and slowly. When he speaks, though, none of it is evident in his voice. His determination seems to be the only thing keeping him upright as he speaks through labored breaths.
"Nighthawk...had my back. Has...my back. And I'm not taking that for granted, I promise. I've burned so many bridges in this business I'm amazed he was willing. But...I have to do this. I have to try to get through to Spike. I used to be able to call him a friend, Dani. I can't just sit by and let him continue to rip himself apart. Who's he got on his side? Rob Diamond? I know what Rob Diamond does to people. Hell, you saw what he almost did to me. I won't let him have that toxic bastard be the only voice of comfort in his life. And Warren...Warren Kane didn't get me fired. Roberto Verona got me fired. Warren Kane did his job. And Warren...the Warren I knew was a good kid. And he's still in there somewhere. I...we just have to get him out of that place. Show him he can have a family...and if I've got to let Spike beat every drop of blood out of me to do it, I will."
Danielle's emotional veneer cracks, and she shouts back at Andrew, hands balling into fists.
"GodDAMMIT! Andrew, I know that you want to help her, but you're not going to save anyone if you're in a hospital bed! Just...THINK ABOUT THIS! You want to fix the world? Fine. You can try to fix them. But don't get yourself killed. You have people that care about you too, goddammit, and we don't like being made to feel like we don't matter."
Andrew's eyes soften, and he nods immediately. He reaches over, taking Danielle's hand, and squeezes it softly.
"I'm sorry. You're right. You do matter, and I'm sorry you've been feeling like you don't. I...it's hard for me to not feel alone anymore. It's an adjustment. But...it's one I'm happy to make. Now, um...I think I need another ice pack. My back may be doing the thing again."
Danielle nods, leaping up to her feet. She rushes to the door of the room, but pauses, looking back at Andrew.
"We're not done with this conversation, Andrew. Not by a long shot."
With that, Danielle exits the room. Andrew laughs to himself, nodding, and takes a deep breath, letting himself slide back down into the bed with a drawn-out, pained groan.
"Don't I know it..."
We fade to black on Andrew, the pain finally catching up with him.
Ow. Well, that didn't work.
I didn't get the job done at Open Fight Night. I couldn't beat Spike Kane. But...I know I can. I've taken worse beatings than this. Not many worse, and not much worse, but I've taken them. And rest assured, Spike...we're not done. We're not done until everything's spoken for. And you can't shut me up. Not here, not now, not ever.
But this week isn't about Spike Kane. Not everything is. No, this week is about the man to my side and the two men in front of me. Let's start with my partner. Nighthawk...Nighthawk is a man who I admire. He's a man who's given his life over to this business, and it shows in the level of sheer dedication he puts in, week in and week out. Nobody works harder than Nighthawk. He's the first one into the gym, and the last one out, and I could not be prouder to have him call me friend and ally.
I'll be honest, I didn't know what kind of opponents we'd be stacked up against. I didn't expect them to be easy. After all, this is IWF. You don't get in the door without being an elite competitor...but they picked a hell of a pair for us. I'm not upset. Far from it. I'm glad. I want to be able to call myself one of the best, and we want this partnership to work? We need to be able to stand against the best the world has to offer.
Bob. It's good to finally share a ring with you again. It's been...God, it's been years. All I can really say is that I'm glad to see we're not alone. Too often in this business, we let selfish thoughts cloud our minds, and when that happens we choke the life right out of ourselves. You're a good man, Bob. Don't change. I look forward to testing myself against you...even if I've got a few less ribs than I'd like.
And the man who finally broke the House. James Franklin Karn. James, we don't really get along. Never have. But I respect the fact that you stood up and said "no more." I respect the fact that you were willing to do something more than sling mud from the back-benches while everyone else suffered. You put your money where your mouth is, and you walked away with the Invictus Championship for your trouble. Good luck, champ. You've gone one hell of a bullseye on your back.
I don't have much to say this week. Trying to save my strength. But brevity's the soul of wit. That's how that saying goes, right? Anyone who knows me knows that I've never been much of a words man, honestly. I let my wrestling do the talking. So does Nighthawk. And in the middle of that ring...in the heart of Louisiana...we're going to be loud and proud. Bring your best, gentlemen. We're sure as hell bringing ours. May the best men win. And good luck.
We're all gonna need it.
"Jesus, Andy...you look like you got hit by a bus."
Andrew manages to crack a grin, weakly chuckling before clutching his ribs. The smile doesn't fade, though, and he looks back up at Danielle.
"I, uh...got hit by Spike Kane. That's like a bus, right? Kinda like a bus?"
Danielle groans into her palms, her irritation surfacing back over her concern in the way that has become so familiar in her interactions with her client-turned-boyfriend. She reaches over, patting his shoulder and smiling down at the battered form of the North Star.
"You know, there's something to be said there...but where do you go from here? I doubt Spike's going to let you get another crack at him, and...well, he kind of almost snapped your spine in half."
Andrew's reply comes as smoothly as can be for someone who was not a week ago powerbombed thirty feet into the mat can speak. It's not much, but hey, it's something.
"Almost, Dani. He didn't. And I'm not stopping here. I got to him. I made him react. And if I can get to him, I can get through to him. And if I can get through to him, there's a chance for him...and there's a chance for Warren."
Danielle nods again, wincing as she reaches down and takes Andrew's hand. Her voice is as comforting as she can make it, but even with her ability to handle the emotions of her job the worry is noticeable again in her voice.
"You...you really care about that kid, don't you? He got you fired, Andrew. You don't owe him anything. You don't even owe Spike anything. You can walk away from this. God, part of me wants you to walk away from this. If you keep it up, it's not going to be a maybe. He's going to do bad things to you, Andy. You don't need to do this. Stick with Nighthawk. He wants to be your partner, and I think you could do a lot worse than running with him as an ally. You're not a lone wolf, no matter how hard you might act like it...you need friends, Andy. Take this one."
Andrew takes a deep breath, struggling to sit up, but manages to power through the pain to get to that sitting position. He leans against the backboard of the bed he's sitting in, letting out a slow, pained sigh, and looks over at Danielle again, breathing heavily and slowly. When he speaks, though, none of it is evident in his voice. His determination seems to be the only thing keeping him upright as he speaks through labored breaths.
"Nighthawk...had my back. Has...my back. And I'm not taking that for granted, I promise. I've burned so many bridges in this business I'm amazed he was willing. But...I have to do this. I have to try to get through to Spike. I used to be able to call him a friend, Dani. I can't just sit by and let him continue to rip himself apart. Who's he got on his side? Rob Diamond? I know what Rob Diamond does to people. Hell, you saw what he almost did to me. I won't let him have that toxic bastard be the only voice of comfort in his life. And Warren...Warren Kane didn't get me fired. Roberto Verona got me fired. Warren Kane did his job. And Warren...the Warren I knew was a good kid. And he's still in there somewhere. I...we just have to get him out of that place. Show him he can have a family...and if I've got to let Spike beat every drop of blood out of me to do it, I will."
Danielle's emotional veneer cracks, and she shouts back at Andrew, hands balling into fists.
"GodDAMMIT! Andrew, I know that you want to help her, but you're not going to save anyone if you're in a hospital bed! Just...THINK ABOUT THIS! You want to fix the world? Fine. You can try to fix them. But don't get yourself killed. You have people that care about you too, goddammit, and we don't like being made to feel like we don't matter."
Andrew's eyes soften, and he nods immediately. He reaches over, taking Danielle's hand, and squeezes it softly.
"I'm sorry. You're right. You do matter, and I'm sorry you've been feeling like you don't. I...it's hard for me to not feel alone anymore. It's an adjustment. But...it's one I'm happy to make. Now, um...I think I need another ice pack. My back may be doing the thing again."
Danielle nods, leaping up to her feet. She rushes to the door of the room, but pauses, looking back at Andrew.
"We're not done with this conversation, Andrew. Not by a long shot."
With that, Danielle exits the room. Andrew laughs to himself, nodding, and takes a deep breath, letting himself slide back down into the bed with a drawn-out, pained groan.
"Don't I know it..."
We fade to black on Andrew, the pain finally catching up with him.
Ow. Well, that didn't work.
I didn't get the job done at Open Fight Night. I couldn't beat Spike Kane. But...I know I can. I've taken worse beatings than this. Not many worse, and not much worse, but I've taken them. And rest assured, Spike...we're not done. We're not done until everything's spoken for. And you can't shut me up. Not here, not now, not ever.
But this week isn't about Spike Kane. Not everything is. No, this week is about the man to my side and the two men in front of me. Let's start with my partner. Nighthawk...Nighthawk is a man who I admire. He's a man who's given his life over to this business, and it shows in the level of sheer dedication he puts in, week in and week out. Nobody works harder than Nighthawk. He's the first one into the gym, and the last one out, and I could not be prouder to have him call me friend and ally.
I'll be honest, I didn't know what kind of opponents we'd be stacked up against. I didn't expect them to be easy. After all, this is IWF. You don't get in the door without being an elite competitor...but they picked a hell of a pair for us. I'm not upset. Far from it. I'm glad. I want to be able to call myself one of the best, and we want this partnership to work? We need to be able to stand against the best the world has to offer.
Bob. It's good to finally share a ring with you again. It's been...God, it's been years. All I can really say is that I'm glad to see we're not alone. Too often in this business, we let selfish thoughts cloud our minds, and when that happens we choke the life right out of ourselves. You're a good man, Bob. Don't change. I look forward to testing myself against you...even if I've got a few less ribs than I'd like.
And the man who finally broke the House. James Franklin Karn. James, we don't really get along. Never have. But I respect the fact that you stood up and said "no more." I respect the fact that you were willing to do something more than sling mud from the back-benches while everyone else suffered. You put your money where your mouth is, and you walked away with the Invictus Championship for your trouble. Good luck, champ. You've gone one hell of a bullseye on your back.
I don't have much to say this week. Trying to save my strength. But brevity's the soul of wit. That's how that saying goes, right? Anyone who knows me knows that I've never been much of a words man, honestly. I let my wrestling do the talking. So does Nighthawk. And in the middle of that ring...in the heart of Louisiana...we're going to be loud and proud. Bring your best, gentlemen. We're sure as hell bringing ours. May the best men win. And good luck.
We're all gonna need it.
Well howdy there pardner.