A/N: Here's another Kaitmus fic, leave a review, favorite and stuff. Hope you all enjoy, thanks for reading.


His eyes opened to see medics covering him as they checked his body for something he was unaware of. What had happened? The last thing he could remember was his match with Randy Orton.

"Sheamus? Can you hear me?" One of the doctors called out. Sheamus knitted his ginger eyebrows in confusion, and headache at the same time.

"Of course I can hear ya, fella, you don't have to yell." The Irishman groaned as he tried to sit up, but then realized he couldn't. He noticed that there were also no straps holding him down and that only confused him more. The doctor sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"You passed out during your match. Randy busted you through that table pretty hard..." He explained. "Can you move anything?" He asked as he grabbed his medical clipboard. Sheamus then attempted to move again and found out that he could only move his arms, shoulders, and head. But it was hard, they all felt so heavy to him. The doctor noticed this and began scribbling some notes down on his clipboard.

"What's wrong with me Doc?" Sheamus asked. "Why can't I move?" He added, beginning to freak out and panic a little. The doctor merely looked at him a little grimly.

"We have an idea but we can't say until we know for sure, alright?" He explained. The back doors to the ambulance then swung open and four men appeared to help carry the Celtic Warrior inside the hospital. A sigh escaped his full lips as he was carried into the big building. Sure, he'd been injured many times before, and taken to the hospital, but nothing was ever this serious, and he was never this scared.

Being rushed to a room, doctors came in, asked their usual questions, and doing the same procedures. When could he just find out what was wrong with him? If he had a broken leg or two, wouldn't it only take a few minutes to diagnose it? What was so different about this? Why wasn't it the same?

After what seemed like hours, the main doctor walked back into Sheamus' room and took a seat. "Sheamus, we have some bad news." He began slowly as he pulled out an x-ray picture. "It seems like you have a spinal cord injury." The doctor revealed. Sheamus wasn't top notch at medical this like this so he was confused.

"Well, go on Doc." He said solemnly.

The doctor sighed, "I'm sorry to inform you of this but, Sheamus, you're paralyzed from the waist down." He said and stood. "I know this might be a little sudden for you, but do you have anyone that could take care of you?" The doctor asked.

Sheamus was in absolute pure shock from the doctor's harsh news. It took him a minute to even answer the man's question. "Not in the United States... All my family is back in Ireland, I don't want to bother them with this." The ginger explained. "I'm sure I'll find someone who'll be willing to take care of me." He said numbly.

The doctor nodded, "So you don't want us to inform your mother? Is there anyone else you can think of?" He continued to ask. Sheamus sighed and ran a hand through his fiery tufts of hair.

"Doctor, could I just have some time to think?" He asked. "I'm not in the mood to answer anymore questions right now." Sheamus asked as politely as he could muster all. After all, he had just been delivered probably the worst news in his entire life. The doctor then nodded.

"I understand." He replied. "If you need anything the buzzer is right beside you." He said then left.

Once the superstar was alone, he covered his face with his big hands and gave a heavy sigh. He just found out he was paralyzed, meaning he wouldn't be able to walk for a long time, if ever. Should he be angry with Randy Orton? It was only and accident... Should he be angry at himself for getting injured? For the first time in a long time, the Great White felt like crying. Everything he shouldn't have taken for granted just got snatched up from him. Everything he loved was now gone.

Another thought ran through his head and his heart felt heavy. He now had to retire from the WWE; the job that he loved more than anything else in the world. No longer would he hear his dear fans cheer his name and chant for his finishing move as he beat his chest and screamed fella...

Thanks to his injury, his life was officially over.

Trying to forget about all that, Sheamus' mind went back to the doctor's question. Who would be willing to take care of him? He was avoiding Ireland because he didn't want to let go of his life here and completely lose everything. He had to find someone to take care of him without feeling like he was a burden on their life.

Closing his green eyes, he managed to clear his mind enough so that he could fall into a peaceful sleep; his dreams allowing him to escape reality. The next morning, he was awoken to the wonderful aroma of different types of flowers. There were also many cards and balloons as well, most likely, all sent from work.

The doctor then came in with a smile, "Good afternoon Sheamus. How was your rest?" He greeted.

Sheamus yawned and wiped the sleep out of his eyes, "Fine." He replied.

The doctor sat down, "Now Sheamus, I know you don't want to talk about this but I need to explain the details of what is going to happen. If you are able to find someone to care for you, you can leave later today. We have a nice wheel chair waiting for you. You're going to have to stay somewhere without stairs, or at least with a ramp." The doctor explained.

Sheamus nodded, "I know, doctor."

"We have some clothes for you too, so when you leave you won't have to wear that hospital gown anymore." The doctor explained. Sheamus then looked down, when did he even put this on? He then took the blanket off to see if they had even done anything else. He frowned at what he saw.

"Is this a diaper?" The ginger asked, anger filling his Irish voice. The doctor held his hands up.

"I'm sorry Sheamus, but you have to wear them. You no longer have the ability to control your bowel movement." The doctor explained. This only angered Sheamus even more.

"Haven't I already lost enough?" The Irishman yelled. The doctor grabbed his arm gently.

"Please, try to calm down Sheamus. Do I need to have my men come in here and give you a shot?" He asked patiently. Sheamus then frowned, but no longer said anything. "Now back to yesterday, do you have anyone to take care of you?" The doctor asked again for about the umpteenth time.

Before Sheamus could even answer, a woman stepped in. "I will."