By KliqGirl


Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Catherine Anderson but I go by the nickname Songbird. Why Songbird? Because I'm always singing, either out loud or to myself. I've been a sound technician for the WWE and now I'm head sound technician for WCW. I make sure you, the fans, can hear the entrance music…and the wrestlers run their mouths. Who gave me the nickname? My friends: Kevin Nash, Scott Hall, Paul Levesque, Shawn Michaels and Sean Waltman. Yes, my friends are the infamous "Kliq". They've always been there when I needed help or just a shoulder to cry on. I trust them with my life.

Chapter One: My Heroes

I don't know what hurt worse – being backhanded by a man twice my size or slamming into the side of a car after being backhanded by a man twice my size.

"You slut! Which one of them are you fucking? Or is it both of them? Is that why I had to wait out here for you? Were you 'taking care' of them?" Craig screamed at me. He stomped over to where I was laying on the ground and planted a kick into my ribs. "Answer me, damn you."

"I'm not…" I couldn't catch my breath enough to answer him.

"Don't lie to me! I know you're sleeping with one of them. Get up you worthless piece of trash."

Craig's hands reach down and grab my hair…then suddenly his hands are gone. I open my eyes to see him go flying after taking a hard right from my dark haired hero. Gentle hands touch my forehead. I look up into the eyes of my other hero; a giant blonde with a sarcastic smile.

"You're going to have one hell of a shiner, Songbird," Kevin says, grimacing as he gently touched my cheek. "Where else did he hit you?"

"He backhanded me into the car and started kicking me."

I try to sit up, but my body protests. I decide I had better stay still. I look over to see Scott hit my former boyfriend again. The stupid fool keeps swinging at him. Scott's just playing with him.

"Go stop Scott before he kills him," I tell Kevin.

"Maybe I can have a turn," Kevin smiled nastily.

"I don't want either one of you in jail because of me."

"Aw, you're no fun," Kevin pouts. Pouting looks very silly on a near 7-foot man. I chuckle. Big mistake. A knifing pain radiates through my side. Oh great. Bruised, maybe broken ribs. Kevin frowns at my expression. "Sorry, Songbird, I didn't mean to make you hurt. Try not to move around."

"Just please go stop him."

"Sure, Songbird. Just for you." Kevin walks over and puts a restraining hand on Scott's shoulder. "Songbird wants you to stop."

Scott turned around, holding onto my ex's shirt. "Aw, I was having fun."

"Yeah, I know, but she says enough," shrugged Kevin.

"OK," Scott replies and drops my ex to the ground just as WCW security comes around the corner to check out the commotion. Better late than never, I guess. Kevin tells one to go get the trainer. After Kevin and Scott tell security what was going on, two of them haul off my worthless ex to the cops.

My two heroes turn back to me; concern on their faces. I'm trying to decide the best way to get up off the ground without hurting myself any more. Every move I make is a new adventure in pain. Now I know how the guys feel some of the time. How do they do this every night?

"Oh no," Scott says as he kneels down beside me and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Don't you move until Coach looks at you."

"I'm OK. I don't need Coach. All I need is a hot bath and a couple of aspirin," I protested.

"Bullshit! I saw you wince when I made you laugh," Kevin scolded me. "You at least need your ribs looked at." Scott nodded in agreement.

"You two just want to see me with my shirt off. I know how your dirty minds work." God, my jaw hurts.

"Like we haven't seen it all before, Chica," Scott drawled in his Razor Ramón voice.

"You've never seen anything," I grumbled.

"Are you sure we haven't, Songbird?" smiled Scott. "I seem to remember a certain party where you got hot and started stripping off your…"

"Shut up Scott!"

"Oh yeah," Kevin nodded and grinned. "I remember that party. I seem to recall you got down to that tiny, tiny red lace bra and it all would have come off if we hadn't stopped you."

"It wasn't a 'tiny, tiny' red lace bra; it was a red sports bra and it covered more than most bikini tops! And may I remind you, it was hot; it was the middle of July!"

"Not to mention you were three sheets to the wind and heading toward four," Scott added. The remaining WCW security guys dissolved into laughter listening to Scott and Kevin torment me.

"OK, OK," raising my hands in surrender. "Stop telling all my secrets. I do have a reputation to protect as a modest Midwestern girl."

"Oh that's rich," Kevin said, rolling his eyes. Scott snickered behind his hand.

"Well, I was a modest Midwestern girl until I met you heathens."

"Are you insinuating we corrupted you?" Kevin asked.


"I think you were already corrupted when we met you," Scott pointed out.

"OK guys, stop harassing her for a second," Coach said, kneeling down beside me. "Do you have any pain in your back or neck?"

"My back hurts a little and my ribs really hurt when I try to take a deep breath."

"OK, let's get you inside so I can get a better look at you. I think your ribs may be bruised or fractured."

"Sounds like a job for me," Scott pushed in and scooped me up in his arms.

"Scott, I can walk."

"Just hush and enjoy the ride."

Scott carried me back into the arena and to Coach's exam area. He gently sat me on the table, pushed the hair out of my eyes and gave me a worried smile.

"Don't look so worried, Scott. I'll be OK. It can't be any worse than the time I fell off the ladder."

"You tore up your knee when you fell off the ladder."

"Yeah, but it was better than before after the surgery," I smiled.

"Not funny, Songbird," Kevin put in, walking into the exam room with Coach. "You could have broken your neck when you fell. You scared the hell out of all of us."

"Okay," Coach interrupted. "Let's get a look at those ribs. Off with the shirt. Out, guys."

"We'll be right outside, sweetheart," Kevin said, brushing a kiss on the top of my head. Scott squeezes my hand, winks and walks out behind Kevin.


"I wish I could have beaten the bastard to death," Scott growled, running his fingers through his hair.

"You and me both, buddy," Kevin replied, slumping against the wall.

Scott slammed his fist against the wall. "How dare he lay a hand on her? What kind of man hits a beautiful woman?"

"Scott, settle down. She's gonna be alright."

"We take her to the hospital no matter what Coach says, agreed?"


"Did you see her eye? It's gonna be swollen shut."

"Yeah, he really clocked her one."

"I'd like to do more than clock him one."

Kevin was about to answer Scott when Eric Bischoff walked up. "What in the world is going on? Someone said Catherine was attacked in the parking lot. Who was it? How bad is she hurt?"

"Yeah, she was, by her boyfriend. She's gonna have a black eye and lots of bruises. We think her ribs are cracked. Coach is checking her out now," answered Kevin.

"Her boyfriend? What the hell set him off?"

"Well, from what he was yelling, I would say we set him off. Us and a lot a beer."

"You guys?"

"Songbird's boyfriend got it into his head she was cheating with one or both of us. She was hoping if he met us, he'd see we were just friends. Obviously it didn't work."

"Oh shit. He saw her kiss us good night," Scott rubbed his forehead with a sigh.

"Yeah. And she did her little nWo baby thing earlier tonight and sat on our laps. You know what the crowds say. So, you add alcohol to what the crowds say and his imagination runs wild. He probably figured she'd meet one or both of us later."

Eric shook his head. "Do the cops have him?"

"Security hauled him off to the cops. I'm surprised they haven't come looking for the victim."

"What did you guys do to him? Do I need to call the lawyers?"

Scott pointed to himself.  "I pulled the bastard off her. He had her down on the ground kicking her. I grabbed him and drug him off. He swung first so I hit him, Eric. And I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one touches Songbird. I'd have beaten him worse but Songbird wouldn't let me."

"OK, OK. Settle down, Scott. I'd have done the same. I'll go find the cops and see what's going on."

"We're taking her to the hospital, Eric, if they want to talk to her or us," Kevin added.

"All right, I'll tell them," Eric replied as he walked away.

Scott stared at the closed door of the exam room. "I wonder how things are going in there."

Kevin followed Scott's eyes. "Yeah, me too."


I painfully took off my shirt. My ribs were hurting more as the minutes passed. I sucked in a sharp breath when Coach touched the rapidly coloring bruise on my ribcage.

"Well Doc, what do you think?"

"I think we should take you to the emergency room for x-rays. As quick as the bruise is developing, you probably have a couple of cracked ribs. Let's get your shirt back on and head to the hospital."

Coach gently helped me down off the exam table, handed me an icepack for my eye, and ushered me out the door. My heroes were waiting outside for me. Scott spoke up first.

"Well, what's the verdict, Coach?"       

"Hospital for x-rays."

"Let's roll, Kevin," Scott said, scooping me up in his arms again and walking toward the door.

"Guys, you don't have to take me," I protested.

"Yes, we do. You're our friend," Kevin stated, opening the door.

"Yeah, Chica, we take care of our friends. Especially the pretty ones."

I smiled and shook my head as Scott gently placed me in the backseat of the car and slid in next to me. Kevin climbed behind the wheel.

"Next stop, Atlanta General. Please keep your seats in the upright position and enjoy the ride," grinned Kevin.

"Oh, God," I rolled my eyes heavenward. "I'll never make it to the hospital alive with you driving, Kev."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. Just relax," Scott said. I smiled at Scott and laid my head on his shoulder. As we pulled out of the parking lot, I was already feeling drowsy. At least I was safe with my heroes. Little did I know this night would start a change in the relationship with one of them. A change for the better.

Scott gently nudged me. "You can't go to sleep, Songbird. You might have a concussion. Look at me." I looked up at him, blinking slowly to focus my eyes. He held up two fingers. "How many fingers do you see?"


"Five!" Startled, Kevin looked at Scott in the rearview mirror and the car sped up.

"No, no. I'm just kidding, guys. You were only holding up two fingers."  

"That wasn't funny. This is nothing to joke about."

"I know, Scott, but if I don't try to lighten things up, I'm totally going to lose it." I bit my lip, trying to keep my feelings from completely taking over. How could I have been so wrong about my boyfriend? I knew he was jealous, but I never thought he would react this way. He had never, ever hit me before. I thought everything had been settled once he had met the guys. I tried to stop the thoughts running through my head. I was quickly losing the battle, however, because the pain in my ribs and head was getting stronger with every bump the car hit. The last bump rattled my teeth. "Damn it, Kevin, you wanna turn around and hit the bumps in the road you missed?"

"Sorry, baby. It's OK now. We're here."

Once again, Scott picks me up and carries me in the door of the ER. This is probably a good thing since I'm starting to feel really dizzy and nauseated. I cover my eyes with my hand. Oh, bright lights and a headache do not mix. Lucky for me, the ER isn't busy so I don't have to wait. A wonderful nurse takes care of all my cuts and bruises, tutting over me like a mother hen. She pats my arm sympathetically when she finds out my ex did this to me. The doctor finally arrived to look at my x-rays.

"Ms. Anderson, I'm Dr. Collins. The good news is your ribs aren't broken, just bruised. You do, however, have a slight concussion. We would like to admit you overnight for observation, just to be on the safe side."

"I'll get out tomorrow, won't I? I've got to travel with my job on Monday."

"As long as you don't develop any more symptoms of concussion overnight, I believe we can let you go in the morning. But you really shouldn't work for a week. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a sound technician for WCW."

"I don't think you're going to want to have a headset on for a few days. Is it possible for you to take some time off?"

"I'd rather not. I'd have to stay in town and I really don't want to be around when my ex gets out of jail. I don't want a repeat performance."

"I can understand that. I think you should seriously consider not going to work. You really need to rest and recover. The police are waiting outside to take your statement about the attack. If you don't want to talk to them right now, I can tell them to come back in the morning."

"No, I'll do it now. No sense putting it off." Dr. Collins nodded and called in the officers.

"When you're done, we'll get you settled into a room for the night."

"Thanks." Dr. Collins nods to the officers and walks out the door.

The cops wrote down the whole story, thanked me for my cooperation and told me my ex would be in jail for awhile. And the boys aren't in trouble. Thank God for small favors. And I can get out of town before he gets out of jail, I thought.