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~~~~
As he woke up, the only noise Randy could hear beyond the beeping of the machine to which he was attached
was a steady, rhythmic clicking. He looked to see where it was coming from and received what would, up to tonight, have been
the greatest shock of his young life.
"What are you doing here?"
Randy twisted and turned as he tried to untangle himself
and run. "I wouldn't do that, kid; from what I remember they don't take kindly to you unplugging yourself."
Okay, so no
twisting. Why hadn't Benoit attacked him yet?
"You've stopped. Good." The pen Benoit had in his hand hadn't stopped
clicking. "First I've got to tell you that you're completely safe from me. At least until you step in to the ring."
That
was nice to hear. Not that he believed what anyone said after tonight. "Great, you're not going to kick me while I'm down.
I'm so happy for me." Benoit made a noise that could have been a laugh, or just a heavy exhalation of air. "It still doesn't
tell me why you are here."
"You could call me added protection."
"From who?"
"Your friends, remember, the ones who
put you in here."
Randy could remember, vividly. "What makes you think I need protection, I'm the world champion damnit."
"Only
till I get it back."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yes." Benoit looked very certain of himself.
"Wouldn't it be better for then
if they came back for more? It would make me easier pickings."
"Not really. I've used up my rematch clause, so I've got
to convince Bischoff to give me another shot." That was easier said than done. "If Hunter gets it back before I do, he's going
to be more difficult to beat than you are because he's still got the whole gang behind him."
"Hey, I beat you without them
once."
"There are plenty of people that have beaten me cleanly once. There's far fewer that have done it twice, never mind
twice in succession." There it was again, that confidence. And the intense stare at the belt. His belt. With his blood all
over it.
"Since you're so damn keen to get the belt off me, I don't suppose you know how to get blood off it. Wouldn't
want it to stain and all that." Didn't want to look at it and remember tonight. He wanted to look at it and remember winning
it at Summerslam.
"It wipes off. Don't worry, that belt has had enough blood spilt on it and for it that a little more
isn't going to hurt it."
Again there was silence except for the click of the pen.
"How do you cope?" Randy's
voice came out a lot smaller and more tremulous than he'd intended. He tried again. "How do you cope with not knowing who's
going to attack you next?"
"You learn to accept it. Call it a hazard of the job. Eddie and me are great friends, but we
both feel a lot more friendly when we're not going for the same belt."
The weight of Benoit's experience, or his own
lack of it, seemed to crash in on Randy. Sure his Dad had told him it would be hard work and that not a day would go by without
him aching from it, but he'd never mentioned having to constantly be aware that anyone could stab you in the back, even and,
by the looks of it, especially your friends. Randy really didn't think he could cope. He couldn't see through people the way
it appeared he would have to - he really had thought that Hunter and the rest had been pleased for him. Ric and Dave had looked
ever so happy for him. It had been so wonderful, and then it all went wrong.
He'd thought they were his friends. But
obviously that wasn't enough. Friendship seemed to be worth less than the belt. If Benoit felt that way about Eddie, and those
two were close like brothers, what hope was there for Randy?
Was he even safe with Benoit? Sure he'd said he wouldn't
hurt him, but what if Benoit were lying.
Randy checked himself. He was panicking over nothing. If Benoit was going
to do something he would already have done it while Randy was knocked out and asleep. Unless he was one of those people who
couldn't attack someone that wasn't prepared.
"Randy, I don't know what you're doing, but stop it. Your heart monitor's
started racing." Benoit really didn't want a nurse in here wanting to know why he was there.
"Sorry." Randy took some deep
breaths to even his heart rate out. "I'm just a little jumpy."
"Don't worry about anything. Just remember that the longer
I keep you safe the closer I get to the belt. Now that you know exactly how much it's worth to me," Randy already knew how
far Benoit would go for the belt, "that should tell you you're perfectly safe with me."
It was Randy's turn to make
a noise that might, under very different circumstances, have been a laugh. "This is just great. One guy, who wants to bash
my brains out, is defending me from three other guys, who also want to bash my brains out. And all over the strap!"
"Don't
say it like it's nothing, kid. Getting lucky," Randy wanted to protest, but didn't, it sounded as though Chris was saying
something important, "so early has ruined the buzz for you. But you'll understand once someone gets it off you. The only thing
on your mind will be how to get it back, and you won't let anything stand in your way. It's gold fever, and there is no cure
except the belt itself. Nothing else will ever match it in your mind. Like I said, when you lose the belt, then you'll understand.
I only hope for your sake that it's me."
"Oh you want to beat me for my sake. How kind of you."
"I only want to hurt
you enough to get the one, two, three; Hunter wants to put you out of the game. Luckily it really isn't anything personal
with me." It might not have been personal according to Benoit, but it might as well have been. He was eyeing the belt like
a starving man looked at a prime steak.
Despite what had happened Randy was willing to trust in this instance. Benoit
was speaking the truth about how much he wanted the belt, and looking at it objectively, the quickest way for him to get it
back would be to get it from Randy before Hunter did. That meant keeping Randy safe, for the time being.
Randy could
feel himself relax, the tension flowing out of his muscles. Tiredness replaced the tension. He lay down and yawned. He fell
asleep to the rhythmic clicking of the pen and knowing that the thing which had caused his plight was the only thing stopping
it getting any worse. It seemed for all the world as though he was allergic to gold fever.
~~~~
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