THE OTHERS (The Band Perry, Carrie Underwood and other country stars)

I Won't Back Down

🚜Blake POV🚜

The fight was insane. I was taking out random fans and whoever was around me. I looked around, trying to spot anyone I knew, but I saw a horde of fans breaking the barriers.

I yelled and started to spray the arena with bullets. Suddenly, I saw a familiar red head. She was getting the absolute crap beat out of her. "BLAKE!! OVER HERE. THE EXIT IS THIS WAY!" it ended in screams. Her screams. She had multiple bruises already forming. She would not give up. I dove and turned, in and out of people. A man held my neck and he was shot with an arrow. Multiple people were shot around me, most being The Others' rats.

I finally reached where she was originally standing to see her thrown offstage into the angry mob below. "NO!" I yelled. I saw her eyes close.

I flung myself off the stage and into the thick of the fight. I started to shoot, not caring who I hit. People were moving out of my way. I finally reached her. I shot into the air.

I grabbed her limp body and carried her in my arms. She didn't appear to be breathing.

I kicked and bowled people out of the way. I finally saw an opening and vaulted toward the exit. Thank god most of the fans were onstage.

She weakly handed me the keys. Then went limp once more. I clicked a random button and it came roaring toward us. I almost cried I was so relieved. I opened the door and laid Lana in the back.

I teared out of the parking lot, angry fans chasing me on foot. I floored the pedal until I was going 100 mph. There was a locked gate further down. I broke through and destroyed it.

I was terrified. Where was my wife!? I roared on.

I kept going 100 mph through Nashville. I saw a cop behind me. "Great." I growled. He was on a motorcycle. "I have to get to the hospital! My girlfriend is dying!" I yelled at him. He said nothing but lead me to the nearest hospital.

We stormed through the front, me holding a limp and bloody Lana. She was broken in so many places. The cop followed me.

"Thank you so much." I said in a fake, New Yorker accent. He just stared at me. "I hope she's gonna be ok." He walked away. I couldn't believe he didn't ID me or anything.

"Please! My wife needs help! Please!" I shouted at the receptionist. She stared at me for a long while. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Blake Shelton?" Crap.

"Just go!! She needs help!" I shouted. She scrambled frantically. People in scrubs came with a gurney. They strapped her to it and wheeled her away. I looked down, my suit was ragged and bloody. It was like I was straight out of The Walking Dead.

I put on my sunglasses, my body throbbed from where they hit me. The woman came over. "Can I get you to sign these?" I signed the useless forms with a fake name. Her name was April Summers and mine was Arthur Summers.

I paced the room, exhausted. It was 2 am. Then 3, then 4. Still hadn't heard anything. I finally marched up to the reception, so tired I was seeing double. I couldn't get her screams out of my head, or the bloody stage.

"How is my wife!?" I asked anxiously. The woman, a different nurse this time, looked at me, "she is not doing well. She might not make it. They are having to do surgery." She told me this without looking me in the eye.

"Look me in the eye and say that." I snarled at her, anger getting the best of me. "I can have security escort you." She told me. "I'd like to see you try. I'm just trying to see my.. Wife." That word felt so foreign to me now. My wife was god knows where and I was stuck here.

I just hoped she was alright. I slammed my fist on the counter and walked to the crappy plastic chairs and sat down. I felt my eyes close and I let them.

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I awoke to a gentle shaking. It was a doctor. I jumped. "How is she!?" "Mr. Summers, you better come with me." His face was grim.

Time slowed, every step seeming a mile long. Finally, we reached the room. I walked in. Lana had a breathing machine, feeding tube and multiple stitches.

I walked over and held her limp hand. "There were multiple fractures. She is in a coma. I do not know if she'll ever wake up. Her internal organs were fine, her liver was not as good as it should be. We don't know if we should try to wake her up. She got beat pretty bad. She'll be in a few casts for a while. Her right hand, left foot, and multiple ribs. What did you say happened to her?" He asked me. I froze. Let's see, she got the crap beat out of her by The Others, a group that technically doesn't exist. Yeah, that's what I'll tell him.

"She got into a fight and hit into a car." I said, fibbing slightly. He stared at me. "I don't know how much time she has left. You might want to call her family. I'm so sorry." He walked out. I sat down, head in my hands.

I reached for my walkie talkie but couldn't find it. I checked my pockets, but it wasn't there! Who knows if it would work anyway. I found my shattered iPhone in my back pocket. I quickly pressed it. It actually lit up. I was shocked. It was obliterated.

I could barely even see the screen. I forced it to work and found Miranda's number. I got her voicemail. "Listen, Ran. I'm at the hospital, Lana is dying" I hung up.

She ended her life to save me. I started to tear up, and believe me, I never cried. I just sat in silence. I didn't knew how I always got into these situations.

I started to do something almost foreign to my body, I cried. Real crying. I picked up my phone and called Carrie. She always said the right things. To my surprise, she answered. "Yeah, Blake. Where are you!?" "At the hospital." "Are you crying? I'll be right there." She hung up. There weren't many hospitals in Nashville. Just one huge one in town.

I threw my phone down and it slid under the bed. "Great. Just perfect." I snarled. "You should really take better care of your electronics." I jumped and turned around. A pretty brunette nurse stood on the doorway.

"I don't know if she'll be ok, but don't lose hope." She told me honestly. She had a pretty voice. "Thank you." I said, in my fake New Yorker accent. "And, Mr. Blake Summers, lose the New Yorker accent. It's pretty sad." I stared at her. "No, it's actually Arthur." I snapped back.

"Alright, if you say so, Mr. "I don't walk like a New Yorker."" She smirked at me and patted my arm. "Have faith. Whatever happens is supposed to happen." She walked out, then stuck her head back in, "It's Alice." And walked away. I creeped over and grabbed my phone, I ended up accidentally touching her hand. It curled around mine.

My eyes widened. Maybe she had hope after all! I grabbed the chair behind me and sat down, still holding her hand. My phone buzzed. "What room? What's her name. I know what it shouldn't be." I texted back: "April Summers." "Real original, Blake." I laughed a bit. And grabbed her hand again.

I started to cry again, silent tears. "I'm so sorry." "It's not your fault." I was given a hug from behind. "Carrie?" I asked. I felt her nod.

"She came back for me. I thought she was the opposite of what she did." We sat in silence. "It's still not your fault." Her voice broke the silence.

We sat there for a while until I fell asleep.