Never Let Me Go (Brock Lesnar)

Chapter Eight

           I didn't want to worry Brock so I put on my brave face as we walked beside the octagon to his corner. There were trainers surrounding him as Doctor Meyer walked up to me. "You're having one now, aren't you?" He muttered so only I could hear.

           Brock was watching me as I smiled. "Nope, I'm just fine."

           Doctor Meyer took the hint as he waited for Brock to turn away. "He doesn't know and you don't want him to, correct?" I nodded. "Okay, so rate the pain on a scale of one to ten."

           I paused before answering. "Six."

           He turned to me. "I understand that you don't want him worrying about you but I think it's best if we watch from the locker room. You need to be sitting down away from all of this."

           I shook my head. "I can't. If I leave now, he'll know something is wrong. I'll be okay, he promised me this wouldn't take long and he has never broken a promise to me before."

           "Casey, even a few minutes of elevated blood pressure can cause a heart attack. This isn't something to play with, this is your health."

           I knew he was right but I refused to leave. I knew if I did, Brock would worry and he would get in that octagon focusing on me rather than himself. That could get him seriously injured or worse and I was not going to be the cause of it. I continued to refuse treatment from Doctor Meyers as Stuart entered the ring. Before Brock entered, he kissed me for good luck.

           "Introducing first, fighting out of the blue corner, from Las Vegas, Nevada, his record stands at eight wins, no losses. Michael Stuart!" The crowd's reaction was mixed but mostly negative. "And fighting out of the red corner, from Minneapolis, Minnesota, he is the former UFC heavyweight and WWE champion, Brock Lesnar!" The crowd cheered as the referee went over the rules and signaled for the bell.

           As they circled one another, I almost turned away. It was like my heart was telling my brain to look away but my brain wouldn't let my eyes respond. Stuart smiled momentarily as he went for one of his signature kicks. A breath of relief settled over me as Brock countered, hitting him with a fist to the skull. Momentarily, the aching subsided as I saw Stuart step back. It was obvious that Brock had certainly rattled him and Brock took the moment as an opportunity. He dived toward him, attempting to take him to the ground. He did ground him but not before Stuart kicked him in the face.

           When I saw Brock reach for his head, I knew something was wrong. He was bleeding and I was certain he had a concussion. The aching returned for vengeance. It was like a stabbing pain in my head that occurred with every heartbeat. I tried to shake it off as I saw Brock look to me. Apparently, the look on my face said it all and he knew. Doctor Meyers came to my aide but I don't remember anything he said. I was fixated on Brock like everything was in slow motion. I watched as he kicked Stuart off of him and then raced to keep him grounded. He dove toward him, throwing left and rights like I had never seen before. After two or three of those, Stuart was getting a taste of blood and Brock showed no signs of letting up.

          Once he knew he had worn him down, he locked in the triangle choke submission hold. Stuart was stubborn and was refusing to tap which only made Brock angrier. Stuart began to turn blue and then the ref called the match. "And winner by knock out, Brock Lesnar!"

           I remember seeing the ref hold his hand up in victory but that was all. The next thing I knew, my vision blurred and someone grabbed my arm to steady me. "Can you see?" Doctor Meyers asked.

           I shook my head. "No, just outlines."

           "Don't let go of me." He added as I followed his lead. I assumed we were going to the locker room but I had no idea. I heard people's voices echoing and realized we were in the hall. The crowd's cheering became faint as I heard a door open. "Now, sit right here." Doctor Meyers guided me as I sat on what felt like a couch.

           "Are we in the locker room?" I ask.

           "Yes, I'm gonna check your blood pressure now." I felt the cuff be pulled onto my arm and the cold stethoscope as it pushed down on my elbow. He pumped it up and then slowly released the air.

           "Where'd she go? Where are they?" I heard Brock yell from the hall as Doctor Meyer began to take the cuff off. "How bad is it? Is she okay?" His voice seemed closer and then I realized he was beside me now.

           "Blood pressure is 165 over 97. You are in heart attack range, Casey. You still can't see?"

           I shook my head. "No. Will it come back?"

           He sighs. "It will when your blood pressure comes down but I can't say that it will next time. She doesn't need to be moved until her vision comes back, stay with her until it does and then you can go back to the hotel." He pauses. "And Casey, you will be hearing from my colleague Monday morning. This has to be taken care of ASAP."

           I heard the door close and felt Brock sit next to me, holding my hand. "How much did you see?" He asked.

           "All of it, well, up until the announcer said your name. You won, I knew you would. And now, we need to call the kids and tell them. Mya's probably been staring at her phone for the past hour." I chuckled knowing she had.

          He sighs. "Case, the kids can wait. You're trying to keep the attention off yourself and I understand that you don't like being the center of attention but right now, you are and you're gonna have to get over it. I knew when I looked at you that something was wrong and it was worse than before. I won, big deal, but in the process, I almost lost you and no career is worth that. I've already told Dana that I'm done training and I'm done with UFC until we can figure out what's going on and treat it. I am not getting back in the octagon until you're 100% and I don't want to hear another word about it. We're flying home tonight and starting right now, you are not leaving my sight."

          "And now I feel like a burden..." I mutter as my vision started to return. I looked to Brock and saw that he had a large bandage above his right eye, no doubt where he had been kicked, but otherwise, he looked normal.

           "You are anything but a burden to me. You're my wife and I don't know if you remember, but I do, when we married we vowed for better or worse. Now just happens to be the worse but we'll get through it. We've been through some interesting things the past few years, this is nothing."

           I smiled knowing that he meant every word.