Stay down dammit!
Dammit Tommy stay the fuck down!
Is that blood? Fuck its blood. Look what you made me do to you Tommy. Dammit you hard headed fool; you don't have to prove yourself to me. I already know, trust me I already know Tommy.
Fuck he's not staying down. Why won't he stay down? Now he's heading towards me, his hazel eyes awash in tears and burning as he grabs and yanks the mic from Woman's hand.
"Thank you sir, may I have another?"
His voice, his beautiful voice is cracking and yet I raise the cane again as he turns and bend over the ropes; his marked and bleeding back consuming my vision. Images that don't belong there dance before my eyes. Tommy similarly bent but completely naked, his back arched as I drive in to him and make him scream my name; Tommy lying on his back, his chest covered in black and blue marks that to the fans are nothing more than bruises from a match the week before yet to me are marks of my ownership.
He slides to the mat, blood trickling and coating his sides, yet he eyes are still flashing with life; still defiant. I can't take any more and I hit him brutally in the back of the neck; hoping—praying that he'll finally stay down. That his body has had enough and will let him keep to the mat. He has given so much tonight, it wouldn't be a shameful thing to just stay the fuck down. It didn't and he gets back into position, his back arched and his legs splayed wide for the hit.
He twists in pain but manages to stay on his feet this time. He turns to me, his handsome face twisted in pain but he pushes away from the ropes and moves to stand in front of me; his chest pressing against mine as his breath leaves body in hard pants as he growls at me.
"That's all you got? That's all you got? I'm still standing, whaddya gonna do? That's all you got? I took your best shot!" He's shouting at me, screaming things that the fans don't understand, they thing it's about the match, but it's not. It goes so much deeper than that.
Of course you took my best shot Tommy, you've always taken every hard shot I've ever thrown at you and yet you stand, stronger than anyone I've ever known, stronger than even myself.
A/N: I have learned one valuable lesson. Do not watch 'The Rise and Fall of ECW' before bed. Or atleast skip past the Sandman/Dreamer Cane match that spawned this fic. It's short, I know, but then again there was nothing left to tell. I hope y'all enjoyed and now I'm going to bed like I planned on doing an hour ago. Good night gentle readers, I bid thee all a good night.