This is a work of fiction. The places, incidents, and original characters are products of the writer's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Character names recognizable as WWE entities belong solely to the WWE.

Denise couldn't help but roll her eyes behind her boss's back. The man thought he was so smart but when he came out and spoke to the office staff like that, he just proved how little he really knew. "We already know due dates, filing system upgrades, and all the other crap he spewed. He thinks that he gave us a pep-talk but what he really gave was a talking-down. Does he really get how de-moralizing he can be?" she thought. With a brief shake of her head, she returned her focus to her computer. The sooner she finished her assigned tasks, the better. Maybe she could watch one of those exciting filing system upgrade webcasts and earn some brownie points…or not.

The day finally ended and Denise waved goodbye to her cubical-mates. Time to join the daily grind on the ride home. "What kind of morons will I see today?" she wondered. "There's an idiot tailgating, nope make that two. Road-rager number one. Cell phone talker number one. Ya know, people, they make hands-free devices now! Use the damn things!" She smacked her steering wheel. "Great. Now I look like a road-rager. Morons." Creeping along with the traffic, Denise continued her tally. "Tail-gater number five. Cell-phoner number eight. Only road-rager number two, unless I count myself as appearing as a road-rager even though I wasn't. Should that count? Shall I debate myself to pass the time?" Tapping her fingers on the wheel, she merged over a lane. "Oh! There's a new one – plucking nostril hairs in the rear-view mirror. We can see inside your car, people! It is not a one-way mirror! And, by the way, EW!" She shuddered for effect. Merging over another lane, Denise sighed in relief as she saw her exit approaching. "Not too long now. The worst is over." Taking the exit ramp, she was out of the worst of the traffic and breezed home. "So glad that's over!"

Once home, her shoes were kicked haphazardly by the door as she headed to her bedroom to put on some more comfortable clothes. Gone were the straight skirt and blouse, now she was 'herself' in jeans, authentic 90's rock t-shirt, and sneakers. Back down in the kitchen, she grumbled to herself that she couldn't find anything to eat and maybe she should have stopped at the store on her way home. "I'll do that tomorrow." Picking up a notepad, she scribbled a quick grocery list as she took stock of her cabinets and fridge. "That's going to be one heck of a bill. Oh, well. Shoulda done it sooner. Slacker." Smiling at herself, Denise left the list on the counter and grabbed her keys. "I'm taking myself out to dinner. I deserve it."

Three hours later, Denise was stuffed. "That's how you end a day!" The waitress smiled at her. "I had no idea you had a band playing tonight. The ambiance was perfect. The food was delicious. And the service was wonderful. Thank you so much for such a delightful evening."

The waitress took the bill holder with Denise's payment and tip inside. "Thank you for being so nice and understanding about the wait. It has been a pleasure waiting on you. Please come again." It was obvious that these were not just courteous words that she uttered to everyone, she actually meant them. Denise promised she would and headed for the door.

"It's a little later than I'd usually be eating and heading home, but it's worth it. And who cares about being tired tomorrow? It's not like it's a mentally stressful job…" Denise thought to herself. "I really should look for something else to do, something that I'd actually enjoy doing." With that on her mind, she headed for home.

Out of the corner of her eye, Denise saw a dark green pickup truck fly passed. "Idiots like that don't belong on the road. He's going to kill somebody." She watched the taillights disappear around the bend. Rounding the bend herself, she saw the same dark green pickup truck T-boned into a small maroon SUV. Parking her car on the shoulder of the road, Denise called 911 as she got out of her car. "I just witnessed the end of an accident at the intersection of… One vehicle T-boned the other in the driver's side quarter panel and door." As she circled the mangled vehicles, she continued to talk. "Both vehicles have single occupants. The pickup truck driver is moaning, obviously responsive to pain stimuli. The SUV driver who was T-boned is slumped forward and has obvious facial trauma. He appears to be unresponsive. Fire, EMS, and police will be necessary and will need to expedite forthwith." The dispatcher asked for her name. Denise gave her information before hanging up, tucking her phone in her back pocket and approaching the SUV. The driver's side window was badly cracked, allowing Denise to easily break it. The driver groaned and tried to turn his head towards the sound. "Try not to move." Denise said quietly. Reaching one hand into the car, she placed two fingers against the side of his neck and counted in her head. "You have a strong carotid pulse." The man groaned in response. "I'm going to check the one in your wrist, if that's okay. I can tell that your arm is pinned, but I can reach your wrist. Is it okay if I try touching you there?" When he seemed to moan an affirmative response, Denise put her same two fingers on his wrist. Thankful to feel a thumping pulse in his wrist, she spoke again. "You have a strong radial pulse in your wrist as well. That's good news." Denise moved so she was facing the man, as close to looking him in the face as she could get. "Sir, can you open your eyes? Don't move your head, just try to open your eyes." Letting her gaze rake over his face, Denise quickly took in his military-style crew cut, small cuts trickling blood on his scalp, a large forehead with cuts also oozing blood, a large and disjointed nose centered between two strong cheekbones, and two fluttering eyelids. "Hey, there. That's it. My name is Denise." The crystal blue eyes focused on her face. "Good job. Just keep your head still. With the impact, I'm concerned about injury to your neck, but need to check for a few more things before I hold on to your head, if you think you can hold still." He groaned. "Is that an 'I understand' or 'I hurt'? Wait, let's go to yes or no questions." She touched his wrist. "Can you feel this?" She moved her hand to his upper thigh. "How about when I touch here?" She touched his knee. "Here?" When she touched his shoulder, he grimaced. "No need to ask about that." Looking back into his pain-filled eyes, Denise bit back a gasp of her own. Hearing sirens approaching, she touched his hand once again. "You are doing so well. The rescue equipment is almost here. We're going to be able to get you out of there shortly. Keep holding on, John."

"How?" he groaned.

Denise heard the sound of crunching gravel and heavy breathing approaching. She hoped it was the rescue company arriving and not the scene becoming unsafe. Not wanting to panic her patient, she continued to speak softly, "Shhh. Time for that later. You fight all the time. This time your fight is internal, remain calm and still. Show your strength in your mental ability to overcome the desire to fight and flight." Denise squeezed his hand and turned to face whatever was behind her.

"F#cking a$shole!" Denise turned to face a staggering man drippling blood from a broken nose, swinging a crowbar wildly from side to side. "Look what you did you g*dd mn f#cking a$shole!"

"Woah, sir. I'm going to need you to take a step back." She watched the end of the crow bar as it waved around, first near the approaching man and then skimming close to her head. "Sir…SIR!" Not having a choice, feeling it was a 'him-or-me' situation, Denise gave her last warning, "SIR!" before kicking at his knees. One end of the pipe flew past her head and clattered against the SUV as the man stumbled backwards. Denise muttered. "Thank God," as a blur of turnout-gear yellow zipped behind the assailant and caught him as he fell.

"Did he get you?" the firefighter asked.

Denise shrugged, ignoring the burning sensation in her cheek. "No matter." She turned back towards the car, noticing a new dent in the top. "You okay, John? Still holding that head steady, right?"

"Mmm Hmm."

Denise looked at the firefighters headed their way. "I need a collar. Ya'll need extrication equipment, ASAP." Turning back to the car, she reached back inside. "Alright, John. I'm going to recheck your pulses. Let me know when you feel me touching you or if you feel pain."

"Touching…my…neck."

"You spoke, that's progress. Much better than grunting." Denise encouraged.

"RR…Wrist."

"Your pulses are strong." Denise finally had gloves to protect her hands. "Even though your arm is pinned around the elbow, you still have circulation. We aren't going to move your arm. The guys are going to remove the car. That's the best option for not causing more damage." She slid her gloved hand around his abdomen and pressed lightly on his ribs. He hissed. "Pain?"

"Not pain. Not, not pain."

"That's clear." Denise snorted. "On a scale of one to ten, a one being a stubbed toe and a ten being the worst injury you've ever had, where do your ribs rank?"

"Shoulder…five…ribs…six"

"That tells me that you are in pain, my man." Denise sighed. She continued her assessment. "The good news is that your injuries seem to be contained to this one area. Your legs don't seem to be pinned or overly injured. While you don't know the extent of the injury to your arm, you know that you can rehab that because you've done it before." John's eyes widened. "Exactly. So let me explain what is about to happen and then you can focus on recovery and rehab."

"Still in the car." he groaned.

Denise snorted again. "I like to set the bar high." She took a gray wool blanket from a fire fighter. "Alright, now I don't want you to read anything into this but I'm going to cover as much of you as I can with this blanket. That includes you head – especially your head. These guys are about to start cutting this car apart. It's going to get loud and there could be pieces of metal and glass that fall. The blanket will protect you from all of that."

"You?"

"I'm going to be right behind you. This is when I'm going to hold on to your head and neck. Oh, good. They finally got the neck collar." She used her fingers to measure the length of his neck. "Hm. I would have pegged you for having a longer neck. Only a 2. Not bad, not bad. Anyway, this is going to be uncomfortable but it will help keep your head and neck still and prevent any further injury, if there were to be any." She slid part behind him and fastened the front. "Uncomfortable? Good. That means it's on right."

As she started to back away, he grabbed her with his non-pinned hand. "Not leaving?""I promise, John. I'm not leaving. I'll be right behind you and you'll be able to feel my finger tips on your head. Count to 25. By then you'll feel me." Denise moved to open the rear door, pausing when a hand touched her shoulder.

"Dee, are you okay? Have you been checked out?"

Taking the second blanket, she answered quietly, "I'll get checked when he's out of the car. It's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Seriously?" Disbelief filled his voice. "With that gash, you are a priority patient and you know it."

"He's the priority. I'll get checked when he's free." Sitting in the seat, Denise unfolded her blanket and flipped it over her head. Shaking the covering over her patient, Denise began to talk to him in their own little cocoon. "I promised that I'd be here with you. Can you hear me? Can you feel my fingers?"

"Can I ask a question?" he responded.

"You can ask and I may answer. It depends on the question."

"Two questions."

"Now you are pushing it." Denise laughed. "Two whole questions. Okay, ask away. I'm not going anywhere."

"You call a friend? Don't want him coming here."

"Sure. Do you know his number? I think we've got about 3 minutes before they cut." She let go of his head. "You can't move." He didn't flinch as he gave her the phone number. She connected and waited for the other person to pick up. "Hi, I'm here with John. He's been in a bit of an accident but he's conscious and alert. His concern is that you not approach the accident scene right now. It's not exactly secure and we have not removed him from the car as of yet…Yes sir, I understand. If you are approaching the scene, if you would abide by his wishes and pull over to the side of the road, I will contact you when he has been extricated and we know which hospital he will be transported to. I will personally contact you. And you have my number to contact me if too much time passes without information." Once she disconnected the call, she leaned forward and muttered, "Tell me that I was not just arguing with Randy Orton. Tell me that I did not just piss off The Viper."

"Laughing hurts." he groaned. Denise chuckled. "You hurt?" he asked.

"What?"

"You hurt? The pipe? Your face?" He clarified his question.

"Oh, that. It's just a scratch. Not a big deal. Someone will look at me once we get you outa here."

"Promise?"

"Promise." A scream next to the car made him jump. "That's why I'm holding your head. The spreader is loud." She was shouting at the back of the seat. The door popped open and the sound stopped. "With the door open, they are going to cut it off. Next they will cut the roof posts and peel back the roof. Getting you out will be super easy."

"No pressure on arm. Better now." Another scream whined outside of the car. John's free hand rose to grasp her hand.

"We'll have you out real soon. Very, very soon." Denise squeezed his hand and tucked her head against the back of the seat.