Lost then Found:A Dean Ambrose FanFicition

Chapter Thirty-Eight: I Just Can't Win

  "And this girl," Paige threw an arm around my shoulder, "I'm telling 'ya. When she dove off of the top rope and delivered an elbow drop, I knew that I was beaten. Brittany destroyed me today."

"You're just saying that. You let me beat you," I said, trying to hide the bashful smile that was growing on my face.

 I had actually had my first match that day. During the morning, I was sound asleep, not aware that Jon wasn't lying next to me. I was resting comfortably beneath the blankets, not really paying attention to the time. I was trying to sleep as much as I could before it was time to depart to the arena. All of a sudden, from out of nowhere, a body jumped onto the bed and began to beat me up. It was Paige. After I had threatened to kill her, she forced me to dress and go down to the arena.

I had been under the assumption that I would have an easy day due to the doctors still being adamant about putting me into any sort of physical activity that day because they were wary about me getting a concussion. But there was no other way around it. Paige was convinced that I was ready.

Before the match, I knew I had to wear some sort of ring gear. That's when one of the seamstresses pulled me into a closet and helped me into an old suit of ring gear that Paige used to wear. The lady pulled my hair into a bun and I ran to the curtains, ready for someone to cue the music. There was people already out there, every wrestler and announcer that was on hand tonight littered the seats. I wasn't mentally prepared, but knew I had to suck it up anyhow.

Once the bell rung, I fell into a sort of mode that I did not experience quite often unless I happened to be face-to-face with Stephanie. I became solely-focused on the goal: to survive the match. Ten minutes in, my nose injury had been re-aggravated. Blood was covering my lower face. My hands ached. I cried out in pain whenever I tried to move. Paige was still emulating energy, although my kicks to the face had slowed her down just a bit. 

After a short recovery, I retaliated and put Paige in an accolade. She did not stay down for long, quickly breaking free and performing a scissor kick. She remained in control for about five more minutes before I found the strength to continue and do a suplex. I botched a dive from the top rope, landing on my stomach. I threw up at the side of the ring.

A new move that Paige had been working on was a powerbomb. I turned my back for two seconds, and then before I could even blink, I was hoisted up into the air and thrown viciously down onto the mat. My side grew louder, cheering at the top of their lungs. I dared to look up. Trinity and Jon were side by side, trying to yell out suggestions while John, Nikki, Rosa and Natalya were yelling at their loudest.

 I even managed to do a neck breaker and a roundhouse kick. A shooting star press was inside of the cards, but I didn't want to deal it, seeing as how I had already thrown up once. If anything, I just wanted to throw punches and hope that I didn't break any bones or lose any teeth.

 The referee that had been sent down to officiate the whole thing seemed to be impressed with how things were going. He shouted out that we had been fighting for nearly half an hour. And as I went on, I knew that I had to decide on a finisher. Didn't know which one that I would use, but one had to be decided on. Unfortunately, a kick to the back of the head stopped me from doing much of anything else.

I was stunned, practically not able to move that well. Black stars swam frantically swam around in my vision. I had lost control and now, it was practically inevitable. With the very minute bit of strength that I had left, I kicked Paige in the face and sent her through the ropes. 

I performed a DDT. Something possessed me, forcing me to climb to the top rope.  I took the easy way out and chose the elbow drop. It landed square across her chest. Paige yelled out in pain, but fell down to the mat. And with a one-two-three count, I had did it. I had survived my first match against my best friend.