Who Wants To Live Forever

Please," she begged the security guard, holding up a small, gift-wrapped box. "I just want to give this to him... It's very expensive, it's a Harley Davidson pocket watch... I had it engraved especially."

The small redhead with the large green eyes frowned slightly, shaking her head. "I... I'm sorry, I just... I need to be absolutely certain... I've come a such a long way."

She sighed, tears shimmering at the edge of her eyes. "I understand," she said tremulously. "Don't worry, it's okay... I -I guess I can mail it to him."

"Listen, miss," the tall, blond man said gently, "if you give this to me, I swear on my mother's head that it'll be in his possession before the match even starts. Okay?"

She peered at him for a moment, then slowly, she handed the small package over to him. "Oh, and... this card goes with it," she said, placing it on top of the box.

She took her tickets out of her purse and soon found herself swallowed up by the crowd of enthusiastic fans as they made their way towards the entrance. She was aware that someone tore her ticket in half, and then she was inside the vast auditorium, looking down at the ring; her heart leapt inside her chest. She was finally going to see him for the very first time.

The crowd roared, applause and cheers rolling across the auditorium like a wave, as Rikishi and Too Cool danced in the middle of the ring and Right to Censor all dragged themselves up the ramp, swearing and shaking their fists.

Then there was the sound of a motorcycle being revved up and she shouted his name, "Undertaker! Undertaker!" while clasping her hands next to her heart.

He cruised down the ramp, circled the ring and came to halt, dismounting the bike with an easy, confident grace that was all his own. He looked very relaxed; this was not a live match, and from what she'd heard, the wrestlers interacted with the crowd much more playfully than they did during matches that were broadcasted, indulging in a fair bit of improvisation.

She felt out of breath as he stepped inside the ring and walked around, his eyes wandering across the auditorium. Then he bent over the ropes and someone handed him a mike.

"Now, I'm not a sentimental kinda guy, but I got someone I'd like to thank this afternoon," he said, reaching into his pocket. "Someone who gave me somethin' special..." He produced a small, silvery object, holding it up like a giant coin.

"I thought it was such a shame she couldn't give it to me in person, I wondered if she might wanna come down so I can get a look at her," the Undertaker said, a small smile curving the corners of his lips.

"Come on, Melodie," the Undertaker urged, shielding his eyes with his hand as he scanned the auditorium. "Don't be shy now. You put yer name in the card, honey... Can't get away from me."

In no time at all, everyone around her was screaming and pointing at her, and the ghostly pale color of Melodie's features was progressively replaced by a deep crimson.

The commotion surrounding Melodie caught the Undertaker's attention, and he repeated, "Come on, Melodie... Don't make me go up there to fetch you, girl..."

People were pushing her and pulling her towards the aisle; she found herself stiffly marching down the stairs, coming closer and closer to the ring where he stood waiting, his hands on his hips, amusement etched upon his face.

At last she was at ring side, her eyes so wide they seemed to fill her small, round face. She knew instantly that she couldn't climb onto it; she wasn't very tall, despite the heels she had worn for the occasion, and so she looked up helplessly, frozen on the spot. The fact that stairs lead to the ring completely slipped her mind. She could only stare, mesmerized, as the mountain of a man approached her.

She dimly realized he was fighting not to grin. The hoots and hollers that resounded around her were nothing more than a dull, muffled roar inside her head; suddenly, impossibly strong hands gripped her underneath the arms, lifting her with a swiftness that startled her back to reality -it seemed like she was flying.

Melodie knew that at 105 pounds, she weighed over three times less than he did -he didn't put her down right away, instead he held her at arm's length for a moment, looking at her wavy red hair and short white dress.

He gently set her back on her feet and knelt down on one knee so that his eyes were on the same level than hers, although she couldn't see them, for he was wearing his dark sunglasses. Then he brought the mike to his lips and said, "Thanks very much for the gift. Was awful sweet of you, miss dollface."

Melodie's voice at first was nothing but a squeak, and at last she managed to breathe, "I... I... It's all right, Mister Calaway... I don't -I don't need anything... in return... I just... just wanted to give this to you."

She quivered inwardly. None of this is actually happening, she thought. This is what you get for eating pizza at two o'clock in the morning. Tomorrow when you wake up, you'll wonder where you are...

"Okay," Melodie answered. Sure, I'll go see you after the show, she thought, feeling like she was losing her mind. Of course I'll go see you, Mister Apparition. Mister Figment Of My Imagination, I'd be delighted.

The Undertaker took Melodie by the wrist, barely touching her. "Come on, baby doll, I gotta wrestle in about ten seconds," he said, walking back towards the ropes with Melodie in tow. Before she had time to gasp, he had picked her up and swung her over the ropes, handing her to an awaiting security guy.

"Thank you," she said, noticing that the people who were looking at her had a sort of reverence in their eyes, like she was a saint who'd had a holy vision.

Mark was heading for the door, his long red hair dripping down his back; he'd obviously just showered. He had changed into a pair of black jeans and was wearing a long sleeved black shirt which he'd left opened at the collar.

"Hey, is this the girl who gave you that fantastic watch?" an enthused voice pipped in behind her. She jumped and whirled around, only to be faced by an extremely wide chest. She raised her eyes and drew in her breath.

"Well, it was nice of you to stop by. I'll catch up with you later," Mark told Glenn, who tilted his head to the side in a manner characteristic of his alter ego Kane.

"Wait, don't you think she might want to have my autograph too?" Glenn said, stiffling his laughter and resisting gamely as Mark tried to shove him out the door.

"Sorry about the interruption," Mark said, almost drowned out by the sound of Glenn's guffaws echoing down the hall. "My 'little brother' is somethin' of a menace," he contined with a smirk, shaking his head.

"It's okay," Melodie laughed. Having seen the two men interact like they did helped her to feel more at ease, as if she'd been let in on a secret... As if she'd been admitted within a private domain.

He looked at it for a moment, then snapped it shut, replacing it into his pocket. Then he turned to her and said, "That's really beautiful. I... almost don't know what to say, baby doll." His brows furrowed slightly and he cleared his throat. "I hope you don't mind if I call you that," he said with a hint of bashfulness. "Just seems to come out on its own."

"Please, call me Mark," he said. He chuckled softly and said, "I've never been in a situation like this before, and it's really makin' me curious. When I flipped the watch open, I had the feelin' that I'd let the genie outta the bottle, and I was gonna have a dream come true."

"Yeah," Melodie replied, a bit bewildered, his bright green eyes holding her in sway. One minute he'd almost sounded like he was shy, and now there was an intensity about him that made her a tad nervous. She knew almost nothing about him, of course; the man behind the Undertaker was guarded and private, and revealed very little concerning his life outside the ring, not that it had ever mattered to her. His enigmatic nature made him even more appealing -as a mystery, he could fulfill all of her expectations... He could be exactly what she needed and wanted him to be.

She had never in her wildest dreams imagined that one day, they'd be sitting side by side in his dressing room, and now she had no idea where the Undertaker ended and where Mark Calaway began. At the same time, she no longer felt quite like herself... As though the person she'd been before he asked her to join him in the ring had been left behind, looking on from some other world, and now she'd truly come alive.

So when he said, "Listen, baby doll... I'm starvin' here. Why don't you have dinner with me?" Melodie broke away from her past like a satellite disengaging from the rocket that had brought it deep into space, the force of Mark's magnetic pull launching her into a new orbit.

Her arms went around his waist as though they'd always belonged there. She put her head against his back as he gunned the motor, and soon they were speeding down the road, though she wasn't afraid. Melodie just closed her eyes, his leather jacket warmed by her cheek pressed against it, her hair blown by the wind.

When Mark came to a halt outside of a very fancy hotel, it seemed like only seconds had passed. He nudged the kick stand, leaned the bike upon it and dismounted. Then, extending his hand, he assisted Melodie to her feet.

"I ain't too familiar with this city, so I thought we'd eat at the hotel where I'm staying," he said as he removed his glasses and slipped them in his coat pocket. He paused, looking down at her from his incredible height. "I hope that's okay with you," he continued, his voice smooth as silk.

One of his arms stole around her and he got down in front of her, his knees on either side of her feet, her legs trapped between his massive thighs. He brought a hand to the nape of her neck, drawing her face closer to his. "Don't matter none, does it, baby doll."

"How 'bout... we get room service, baby doll," he murmured, his mouth slightly pressed against hers. "Wanna spend some time with me? Why don't you stay with me, Melodie."

"Now, if you stay with me, there won't be no goin' away after that... I'm gonna keep you, dollface. You'll jus' be mine," he said, and deepened his kiss.

Mark turned the key in the lock and opened the door, allowing Melodie to precede him. "Here we are, baby doll," he said. "Your new home... 'til we move on again."

It was a huge suite, fit for a king. Beyond the living room, complete with a couch, two chairs and a dining table for two, french doors led into an immense bedroom. A pair of blue jeans had been flung over one of the chairs, and a big, black boot lay on its side upon the floor near the couch.

"Sorry 'bout the mess," he apologized, removing his bandana and flinging it on a coffee table near the door. "I suppose it's a guy thing," he said, his lips stretched in a smile. "I'm no different, looks like."

His words startled Melodie; suddenly, he was a human being again, with his foibles and limitations, not a superman who'd whisked her away from reality, and she wondered, why am I here? Why... does he want ME here... with him? She sighed, and hid her face in her hands.

"What is it, Melodie? Now don't you hide nothin' from me, girl. You told me you were comin' with me... it's too late to turn back. You belong to me," Mark said, his green eyes blazing.

"You're here 'cause I want you here, and that's all there is to it, understand, baby doll? You're here 'cause I decided. No more doubts... no more questions."

His hold on her arms relaxed and he continued more gently, "You'll get used to me. I know I'm a tough act to follow. Don't try to figure this out... Ain't nothin' to figure out, it's jus' happenin'. Okay?"

"See... that was easy," Mark said, stroking her hair. "No worryin'... Jus' hold onto me, 'n go where I go. There ain't no other place fer you, 'cept by my side."

Melodie reached up, pulling away the elastic band that held his braid. He shook his head and his long, flowing locks spilled across his wide shoulders and down his back. It was still slightly moist, fragrant with the smell of pine and spices.

Mark laughed, lifting her off her feet. "Thanks, dollface," he said. "You silly little thing..." Then his smile faded and his eyes bore into hers ardently. "Anythin'... below the belt that's to your likin'?"

"Good... good," Mark said, lifting her hand and placing it on his belt buckle. "You're makin' me happy, baby doll. His chest was rising and falling more quickly. "We won't be goin' that far this time... We gonna make sure you want it real bad first," he said, moistening his lips.

Mark's eyes widened slightly but he swifly closed them and drew in his breath sharply when he felt Melodie's lips kiss the underside of his swollen cock. Then she licked it once, from the root to the head, and twirled her tongue around the tip.

But Melodie was too thrilled with the effect she was having on the tall man and continued to torment him; she nursed the head, letting her tongue delve into the seam and along the edge of the hood.

She smiled and resumed her sweet onslaught, her small hand pumping his shaft while she mouthed one of his balls, then the other, before moving upwards once more, collecting a drop of semen that had pearled at the tip.

His head snapped back and he stared at her incredulously, a smile wavering upon his parted lips. "Why, you little witch," he panted. "I'm gonna... give you a whoopin' in a min-" He was unable to finish his sentence; his straining length was engulfed by the moist warmth of her mouth and he cried out in surprise.

Melodie stroked his stomach and then gripped his backside, feeling him slowly rocking his hips, a langorous half-moan escaping his lips as she began to suck his cock more forcefully.

Melodie eagerly complied, ravenous for the taste of him, enraptured by the thickness of his sex, by the way it jerked between her lips, by the silky smoothness of the head, her motions increasing in speed.

He started to tremble and screwed his eyes shut, his cock plunging inside her mouth in a fierce succession of short stabs; abruptly, he stopped, tension quivering in his thighs. Then he roughly worked his buttocks, thrusting urgently as semen coursed along his shaft and was unleashed in Melodie's awaiting mouth.

"Can't... get enough, uh?" Mark said as his breathing gradually returned to normal. "You were bad, baby doll. I'm gonna have to punish you fer bein' a smart mouth, missy," he added with a fiendish smile.

He pulled his pants back up and before Melodie could speak, he slung her over his shouler and headed towards the bed. He whipped his belt from around his waist with a snap and sat on the edge of the bed, heaving her off his shoulder and spreading her on her stomach over his lap.

A wicked grin was etched upon Mark's features, and he brought the strap down again, and again, and again, watching with satisfaction as her buttocks rippened until they were red and tight.

With each blow, Melodie's cries grew heavier, hungrier, and her smarting backside pulsed in harmony with the ache in her clitoris. "Undertaker... Undertaker..." she moaned, clawing the sheets.

At last, Mark lowered the belt and laid it on the mattress. "Tell me who the master is, baby doll," he said, tenderly gathering her in his powerful embrace. "Who's the master?"

He smiled and took her face between his hands. "Thanks fer playin' with me, Melodie," he murmured. "You sure know how to make a man feel special, don't you?"

"Mark... Mark..." she implored, "I need you... I need to feel you... Oh, Mark!" she exclaimed, covering his cheeks and lips with fervent kisses, her fingers tangled in his long, red tresses.

She wanted him so much, after rubbing her crotch against his thigh a few times, she could already feel tendrils of pleasure curling within and she laughed, swept by a tide of excitement.

The voluptuous warmth of his mouth pressed against hers, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon that wafted from his skin, the hardness of his thigh between her legs as she rolled her hips, the compelling intensity that lit his green eyes, all of these things overwhelmed Melodie and she succumbed. Her neck arched, her fingers twitched, and a burst of pleasure flared in her loins.

"Mark..." she panted, trembling as she climaxed, seized by a wicked surge of delight because his eyes held hers mercilessly, demanding that she hide nothing from him.

"That's it... I wanna see it all, Melodie... 'cause I own it all," he prompted, exulting in the fevered blush that tinged her features. "No shame in it, baby doll... let go fer me... show me everything."

Melodie quivered again, running her tongue over her lips, lost in the electrifying sensations that his nearness elicited. This immense, magnificent beast of a man... This dangerously alluring giant, who was guiding her and taking her to places within herself that she had never before explored.

"Don't play dumb with me, Mister Bad Ass," Glenn said. "You know what I'm talking about. Little sweet thing you left with last night... The one you wouldn't let me talk to. You took her back to the hotel... And today you're floating somewhere near cloud nine."

Mark couldn't wait to get back to his hotel room. Just knowing Melodie was there made his insides go soft. Lovey dovey, he thought, recalling Glenn's words, half amused, half disgusted. Well, I guess if the shoe fits... hell.

"Baby doll, I'm home," he said, closing the door behind him. Then he turned around and his chest grew tight with an emotion he wasn't accustomed to: fear.

"Melodie!" he cried, racing into the living room. One of the chairs was lying on the ground, and the couch pillows had been hurled across the room; one of the plants had been knocked over, scattering soil all over the cream colored carpet; the food tray that had no doubt been placed on the table now lay on the ground, surrounded by the shards of glass from a shattered plate and glass.

Then Mark's eyes zeroed in on something that made his heart stop: a torn piece of fabric... White fabric, with drops of blood upon it. Melodie's dress, he thought, snatching it from the floor. He stared at it for a moment in stunned disbelief and then his feet began moving. He ran outside the room and down the stairs.

"Call the police, right now!" Mark roared. "Someone's broken into my room, and the lady who was with me is gone -I found this on the floor, it was torn off her dress, she's been assaulted," he said, opening his palm and revealing the tattered piece of white cloth. "Did you see anyone come into the hotel who looked suspicious to you?"

The short man behind the counter swallowed and said, "I don't understand, sir... The lady in question checked out about two hours ago. She, uh... She had a bruise on her face and her cheek was cut, but she, uh, she said that she'd fallen."

Mark blinked a few times, a slight, confused frown drawing his eyebrows together. "That's not possible," he blurted. "The room's been completely trashed... There was a fight, ain't no doubt about it. Are you sure Melody checked out?"

Mark yanked it away from the man's trembling hands and quickly flipped to the back, his eyes scanning the page for the entry that said -Melody, he thought, his heart constricting in his chest. It was indeed her signature. She had left the hotel two hours ago.

"How in the goddamn hell should I know?" Mark thundered, stirred from his grim contemplation. "The place had been taken apart, and my girlfriend was missin', what the hell did you expect me to do, start searchin' the room to see if my goddamn Rolex watch was gone?"

The man's features grew pale. "I'll call the police immediately, Mr. Calaway. I can assure you that we will get to the bottom of this. I deeply regret any inconvenien..." his voice trailed away as Mark marched out of the lobby, the doors slamming behind him.

Mark strode towards his motorcycle, taking deep breaths in an effort to calm down. Someone had been in his room, that he knew for sure. The desk clerk had said that he'd seen marks on her face. The thought of anyone striking Melody and leaving her bruised made Mark grind his teeth and growl. Whoever it is, I'll kill them, he thought as he mounted his huge Harley and gunned the motor. I'll goddamn rip their heads from their shoulders.

He tried to imagine what had happened. For some reason, Melody had been frightened into fleeing from the hotel, frightened enough that she'd suddenly disappear without a single word of explanation. He hardly knew anything about her life, her past... Was she hiding from someone? Melody was the only person who held the answer, the only one who could tell him what had occurred that afternoon.

He revved the motor again and was about to screech away when he noticed a small piece of paper taped to the side of the tank. He ripped it off and unfolded it.

being with you, being loved and held by you, was the most magnificent experience of my life. But I know I'm nothing to you... I'm nobody. I have nothing to offer, I can only take what you have to give... And I can't do that to you. You're too good for me... I'm sorry, Mark.

The small piece of paper shook more and more in Mark's fingers as he read the hastily scribbled note. "Melody..." he choked. "I won't lose you, baby doll."

Melody tried to stand but her knees gave way and she dropped upon her seat. Her heart felt like a giant black hole, her entire universe collapsing within its bottomless depths. Mark, she thought, tears welling in her eyes yet again. Mark... I can't live without you. But she knew she had to leave him behind... She had to release him. Who was she to believe he wanted her?

A fresh burst of agony shot through Melody as the cruel words hit her again, and she could still taste her own blood, blood that had flowed from her lip when the woman had punctuated her venomous slander with more blows.

"You-get-the-hell-out-of-here," she'd hissed at Melody, slapping her face. "He doesn't need you, he'll never need you, you hear me, bitch? You're just a quick lay on the road, just looking at you anybody would know that. Am I getting through to you, whore?"

Melody was startled back to the present. Feeling like she was slowly being strangled, she picked up her small suitcase and managed to get up from her seat, her features ashen. She knew she would never love anyone ever again, because her heart already belonged to Mark... Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she had to resign herself to the fact that he deserved more than she could ever hope to give.

Then suddenly, a large hand closed around her arm. Melody stood still, not daring to turn her head, yet praying he had come for her... And knowing that if he had, it would tear her apart.

Mark gently put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around so that she was facing him. His jaw tightened when he saw the bruises on her cheeks. "Melody," he murmured, "who did this to you, baby doll?"

"No! No!" Melody cried. "She said if I told anyone that she wouldn't... wouldn't let me off so easy next time," she continued in a whisper, her fingers gripping Mark's coat.

"Who told you that?" Mark asked, cradling her head against his chest. "I won't let nobody hurt you, Melody, you be sure of that. I'll never let anybody hurt you ever again."

Mark, who was sitting on a chair next to her, put a reassuring arm around her shoulders and peered at the picture of a slim, gaunt-looking woman with dark hair and dark eyes. "Who is she?" he asked the detective who was seated opposite them.

"Sybil Manchester," the detective said, looking at his computer screen. "She's recently escaped from a psychiatric hospital. A very dangerous, unstable woman."

"I'm afraid so, Mr. Calaway. Rest assured that I'll have several officers on the case until we have her back in custody." The detective paused and said, "We can provide Miss Daisyfield with a bodyguard-"

"Then... that would explain why she attacked Melodie," Mark said. This was my fault, he thought, his stomach churning. I wasn't there... and some crazy psycho went after Melodie.

"It wasn't your fault," Melodie said softly, as if she sensed what he was thinking. "You can't be everywhere... and you're not responsible for what one of your fans did. It wouldn't even be right to call that woman a fan. She's mentally unbalanced." She swallowed, for a moment recalling how the woman had beaten her, recalling the viscious words she'd used.

Vince McMahon gave Mark a few weeks off so he'd be able to watch over Melodie until Sybil Manchester was apprehended. At first Vince had balked at the idea.

"But Mark, we've got an important PPV coming up. I can't afford to have you gone for who knows how long, especially when you've only just started wrestling again."

"I appreciate that, Vince," Mark replied patiently, "but I won't let her out of my sight after what happened. Now there's a madwoman who's possibly stalking Melodie, and I'll be damned if I'm not there to protect her."

Vince was silent, then he leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers. "Listen, Mark, I understand that you're in a difficult situation, but I need you in the ring. I can hire a private-"

Glenn frowned slightly, then said, "Are you sure that's a good idea? Don't you think this crazy woman might be able to find out where you live, somehow? If she's as obsessed as the detective said... Remember that deranged woman who broke into Letterman's home."

Mark's pace slowed. "Hell... I hadn't thought of that. Damn!" He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Still, don't you think she would've tried that before now? I mean, she's had this fixation on me fer a while..."

Mark stopped in his tracks and gently took her by the shoulders, getting down on one knee. "Now, you listen to me, Melody," he said. "We already discussed this. I won't allow you to talk any nonsense, all right? No feelin' like you ain't good enough fer me, or that you're givin' me problems. You trust me, don't you? You know I wouldn't lie to you."

"How about you guys stay at my house?" Glenn said, startling them both. He was staring at them with a grin. "I'm gonna be on the road for the next couple of weeks... So you'd have the whole place to yourselves, nudge nudge."

Mark and Melodie went back to the hotel where they were staying for the night. Right after they'd seen the detective, they'd hopped on a plane, and then Mark had his meeting with Vince. Mark had planned for them to fly to Texas the next day, but as they'd be staying at Glenn's, the plans he'd made would have to be altered; they'd be flying to Virginia instead. He made a few phone calls and secured new plane tickets, then he went to the bedroom, where he found Melody asleep on the bed.

"That's what I like to hear," Mark said, kissing her softly. "I never, ever again want to read a note like the one you left for me yesterday. Understand, baby doll?"

"Why did you listen to that woman, Melody? Why did you believe what she said, when you know how much I adore you?" he said, taking her chin in his fingers and turning her face towards his.

Melody heard the barely repressed strain in his voice, the smallest of smiles etched upon her lips. She slowly removed her bra, noticing the bulge in his crotch. Her hands reached for her panties, but he said, "Stop. I want you to turn around... pull those panties half way down yer sweet little ass... 'n keep 'em there fer a second. I wanna look at you, Melody."

Her sex was becoming swollen with desire. She did as he asked, quivering with need, with hunger for his cock. Then she heard him unzipping his fly, and juices started running down the insides of her thighs.

She turned her head and looked over her shoulder. He was caressing his cock, which lengthened and surged upwards more and more with each stroke. Melody began fondling her breasts, following the same rhythm.

Melody once again did as she was told and was rewarded by the sensation of his massive arms snaking around her waist... by the maddening pressure of his cock nestled between her buttocks.

"That's... my girl..." Mark exhaled, and she shook as she felt the warmth of his breath on the nape of her neck. Then his fingers tightened around her waist and he lifted her from his lap slightly.

Melody eagerly complied and cried out when the soft tip of his penis parted her intimate lips. "Mark, Mark... take me... please take me," she moaned, throwing her head back against his shoulder, her cheek caressed by the silky strands of his hair as he slowly impaled her upon his throbbing shaft.

Once his cock had gone as far as it could go, he began to thrust, his hands fondling her breasts and stroking the smooth expanse of her lean stomach. "You -so sweet," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat huskily. "Can't get enough o' you..."

Melody moaned again, her back arching as his cock slid in and out of her. He quickened his pace suddenly and she gasped with delight, her fingers gripping his muscular thighs. Then he slowed down, drops of sweat rolling down his face.

"I love you," Mark rasped, his lips brushing her ear. "I love you," he repeated, once more picking up speed, driving himself inside of her with increasing urgency.

Melody began to cry, overwhelmed by the words he'd just spoken for the first time and by the pleasure that pulsed from her crotch like a heartbeat as she came. Then she felt his cock explode, filling her with a warm rush of semen; she felt the growl of contentment that rumbled in his chest against her skin.

Melody sighed as well, luxuriating in his embrace, in the strength of his arms wrapped around her. I wish it was always like this, she thought. All I want is to be safe in his arms... He was still inside of her and she thought that as long as he held her, she would never be alone and lost again... As long as he possessed her, there would be no emptiness.

"I love you more than anything, Melody," Mark said softly, pushing her hair away from her eyes. "I jus' want to spend the rest of my life takin' care of you."

"Well... I guess we'd best be gettin' ready," Mark said reluctantly. "Glenn must be countin' the minutes 'til he can order that prime rib he's been hankerin' for all day."

As Mark had predicted, Glenn happily ordered the "mammoth prime rib" plate as soon as the waitress said, "Have you folks decided what you'd like to have this evening?" Mark ordered the steak, and Melody settled on a thai chicken salad.

"Thanks, little brother," Mark said, his voice imbued with a sort of serenity that seemed to radiate from his whole body, warming his green eyes and softening his features. "I never been happier in my whole li-"

Both Mark and Glenn instantly turned towards Melody, who was staring ahead of her with wide, terrified eyes, her face ashen, her lips trembling. Then when their gaze followed hers, they were confronted by the sight of a thin woman standing three feet away from them, a gun leveled at Melody's head.

The thin, dark haired woman blinked and gripped the pistol until her knuckles were white. "Undertaker," she said evenly, though her hands shook, "move away from her... It won't take long. And then... then we can be together forever. Just like I always planned."

"Sybil," Mark said, fighting to stay calm. "Sybil, give me the gun. Give me the gun," he repeated, opening the palm of his hand. "Come on now. You don't want to do this."

Tears shimmered in Sybil's dark, haunted eyes. "I don't want your help. All I want... You're all I want, Undertaker," she faltered, her voice breaking.

Mark cried out in stunned surprise and clutched his chest. Then he peered at his hand, at the blood that was dripping from it, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Blood had begun to flow from the corner of Mark's mouth and his breath was quick and shallow. A thin film of sweat covered his face and his eyes were growing unfocused.

"God, oh my God, he's goin' into shock already, hurry the hell up and GET THE GODDAMN PARAMEDICS OVER HERE!" Glenn screamed at the petrified restaurant staff. "Somebody bring me a towel, oh Jesus he's losing all his blood... Come on, Mark, don't do this to me, hold on, jus' hold on..." he pleaded, taking Mark's hand in his.

"Mark," Glenn whispered, staring at his motionless friend who lay sprawled upon the ground with blood staining his beard. He felt Mark's wrist, desperately searching for a pulse. "No. No!"

Glenn began pounding at Mark's chest, feverishly counting out, "One, two, three, four, five-" Then he lifted Mark's chin, tilting his head backwards, and gave him mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, his shirt growing damp with Mark's blood. Again and again, Glenn darted between Mark's head and his chest, "One, two, three, come on Mark, breathe!"

Glenn raised his head, sweat and tears streaming across his face. "He's not breathing," he panted, looking at the paramedic. "He's been shot, help him-"

Two paramedics kneeled on either side of Mark, searching for signs of life. "Pupils aren't contracting," one of them said after quickly peering into each of Mark's eyes with a small light.

"No blood pressure," the other man declared, reaching for a small box. While he retrieved two metal pads from it, his partner swiftly cut Mark's shirt and applied a coat of conductive gel to his blood soaked chest; then he placed two wires near his heart and turned on the monitor. He nodded to the other paramedic who had been rubbing the two metal pads together; the latter said, "Clear!"

Glenn turned away, unable to witness his friend's life slipping away. He'd seen Mark in pain from injuries he'd sustained in the ring, he'd seen him battered and bruised. He'd watched Mark getting his head either kicked by a boot or smashed by a metal chair, watched him go through tables, through the ring itself...

It can't end like this, Glenn agonized, a burst of unbearable, unparalleled grief shooting through him as a million memories engulfed his mind. You can't die like this.

The tall man was stretched out, immobile and silent, amidst broken pieces of wood, his head thrown back, his long red hair like a halo, his arms flung on either side of him.

The two paramedics glanced at each other, and the one who'd been holding the metal pads put them back in the case and snapped it shut. He looked up at Glenn and said, "We're sorry, sir. He's gone."

"Melody!" Glenn shouted, racing towards her. "I'm here, sweetheart," he said. He bent down on one knee and cradled her in his arms. "Melody, I'm here..."

He looked at Mark again his chest hitched. "Are you sure... are you really sure he's-" Glenn suddenly gasped, his mouth hanging open. "His hand- It just moved!"

The paramedics hurried back to Mark's side. One of them placed the end of his stethoscope against Mark's chest and exclaimed, "I've got a pulse. Extremely faint, but-"

His partner placed an oxygen mask over Mark's mouth and said, "Get an I.V. into him," as he put a large bandage on Mark's wound and quickly secured it with surgical tape.

The two other paramedics present at the scene rushed out and returned pushing a stretcher. Sybil's body had already been taken away to the coroner's office, and all of the medics teamed together to lift Mark from the floor. "One, two, three-"

One of Mark's hands dangled limply from the stretcher. Once the medics had slid the stretcher inside the awaiting ambulance, Glenn took Mark's wrist and gently put his friend's hand back on the stretcher.

"Don't worry," Glenn said, sniffling. "You'll pull through, big guy..." He gazed upon Melody's waxen features and whispered, "We'll be there when he opens his eyes, sweetheart."

"Look, uncle Mark," the boy said, proudly holding up a drawing. "It's a picture of you and me and mommy and daddy." He then stuck it on the wall with a pushpin next to Mark's bedside table.

Glenn's throat tightened. No matter how many years it had been since his friend had been brought to the hospital, it seemed like only yesterday they were all sitting together at that restaurant... I should have jumped on that woman, I should've... Glenn thought for the millionth time. He shook his head with a sigh, as always hoping against hope that someday Mark would awaken from his endless sleep. I'm sorry, my big brother. I'm sure you'd forgive me for falling in love with her... I'll always watch over her, just as you asked me, he thought, looking at Mark's inert form. I know it's what you would have wanted... Forgive me, Mark. She would have died if I hadn't been there to take care of her... She loved you -she loves you so much.

The doctor had told Glenn that the cardiac arrest Mark suffered when he was shot, combined with the numerous injuries to the head that he'd endured over the years, had caused him to slip into a coma. "Usually, the patient will come out of the coma within a few days, or a few weeks. Although there have been cases... when the patient never awakens."

But days turned to weeks, weeks to months... months to years. Seven years, Glenn was thinking now. I don't know if you'll ever come back to us... But we'll be there if you do. We'll be there, Mark.

"Mark," Melody breathed, kissing his cheek, tasting her tears mixed with the flavor of his skin. She closed her eyes, pressing the side of her face against his, letting herself be soothed by the feeling of his beard brushing her skin. "I know your heart is in heaven... But I miss you so much." She kissed him again. "I'll love you forever, Mark. There's still time for us, I know there is..."