A/N: While the world sees Edge as a psychotic freak, I choose to see him in a different light.

And a few of you know that I tend to write depressing stories the day that I go to WWE events.

"I…Thank you, Adam," Natalya whispered from her hospital bed.

"No problem," he smiled, gently taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

"It's just…no one else would come with me, you know? I don't know why they're all mad at me. And it's not like I'm contagious or anything," Natalya whispered, a sad look in her eyes.

"I know, Nattie. I know. But look, I'm here. Forget the rest of them. I'll be here for you."

It was a living picture of a tragic love story. The girl was dying in the hospital. Her boyfriend was waiting for the doctor to come back and tell them how much longer she had. The only problem?

They weren't dating. They weren't even best friends. Mere acquaintances, maybe, but nothing deeper than that…

For Natalya, at least.

Adam Copeland was head over heels in love with her, and he'd do anything to save her. He wasn't as outspoken as his famous character, and these were the times that he boasted Edge's natural charisma in his everyday life. His unrequited one-sided infatuation was eating away at him. And what on earth would he do if she died on him?

He was lovingly gazing at her as she tried to sleep. He was thinking of the best intentions, and any Edge hater would pay to see the Ultimate Opportunist show this much emotion over anything.

And that's when the doctor came in.

"Uh, Miss Neidhart?" he warily said.

This must be bad news, Adam thought, giving Nattie's hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yes?" she replied, her eyes fluttering open. Adam helped her sit upright.

"See, this is the part of my job I hate…"

"Just tell me how long I have, doctor. I'm strong. I can handle it," Nattie said, putting on a brave face.

You might be able to handle it, but I sure can't, Adam thought, staring blankly at the doctor.

"Two months. You know you're leukemia has gotten worse, and you're refusing other treatments…"

"If I'm going to die, then I'm going to die. I can accept that. I've had a nice life," Natalya said, but Adam couldn't help but cringe at how morbid her words sounded.

A few hours later, visiting hours were over. Adam said a rushed goodbye. He was always afraid of the nurses that attempted to enforce the visitation rules, and he really didn't feel like getting yelled at by a robust nurse.

Adam stomached the drive back home in silence. The usual metal music that blasted through his car speakers was not heard. He would usually rock out, sing, and dance along with the music, but he was leaning back in his chair and concentrating on the road, or at least pretending to.

His mind, of course, was on Nattie laying helpless in her hospital bed, almost welcoming her approaching death.

"I swear, I'd sell my soul to save her," Adam muttered under his breath.

When Adam got back to his home, he went straight to bed. He didn't check his voicemail or his email, not really caring about contact with the outside world. His eyelids were heavy, and he wanted to lighten them with some much needed sleep. Maybe refreshing himself would take his mind off of Natalya's impeding doom.

Adam had a strange dream that night. It was one he wouldn't forget, even if…

Adam found himself in the fiery depths of hell. The hot flames got close to touching him, threatening to burn him, but they never did. They were almost pushing him up the path in front of him. He had no choice but to walk it.

At the end of the long, flame lined path was what every man, woman, and child fears seeing.

A throne made of charcoal the size of a house was placed at the end of the path. And sitting on it was the Devil himself, taller than the most mythical creature.

"So, Adam, you said you'd sell your soul to save Nattie?" the Devil said, twirling his forked tail in his fingers.

"Um…Y-yes…" Adam stuttered, deciding it was best not to lie to the Devil.

"Really…" he grinned, a devious idea coming into his head. "Would you be willing to honor that? I can save her, you know."

"Anything," Adam pleaded.

The Devil chuckled. He snapped his fingers, and a black scroll and a pen with a flaming tip appeared out of nowhere in his hands. "Sign this. It's a standard deal. I save your girl, I give you a year to live, and then you're mine for eternity. Sound good?"

Adam stared at the Devil with an open mouth. Was he really willing to only live one more year so Nattie could live on?

Of course he was.

"Give me that," Adam said, and the Devil willingly obliged. Adam scribbled his name down on the black scroll and it floated back to the Devil.

"Funny…" he chuckled as he looked over the scroll.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing. Now, to honor your promise…" The Devil snapped his fingers.

Adam screamed out in pain, or at least he thought he did. A black circle appeared above his elbow on his left arm.

"That's proof of your contract. Try to wash it off when you realize that this is a mistake, but it won't come off. Welcome to hell, Adam Copeland."

Adam ran his fingers over the black mark. It was quite large and rather noticeable.

"Oh, it just got even funnier!" the Devil said, now in full blown laughter.


"It's just…It's so funny that you are so willing to give up your life for a girl that doesn't even love you back."

Adam bolted awake and sat upright. He was in a cold sweat.

"That HAD to be a dream!" he said out loud.

He was trembling, but there was only one way to be sure.

Adam twisted his left arm so he could see…

And sure enough, the black mark was above his elbow. He really did only have one year to live.

He looked at his clock. March 17th…

The Devil was right. Adam Copeland was in hell.