CSWA Medical personnel attended to a rather nasty cut on the back of Dan Ryan's head as a worried Alaina Troy looked on.
"Right, a flesh wound. That explains the deep gash and need for stitches."
Ryan winced as needle struck flesh and began the stitching process. "Well you know, the human head wasn't meant to be slammed back into the corner of a steel ring-step."
Alaina sighed, not used to caring about things like this.
Ryan placed his hand on hers. "I'm fine, really. This is nothing. Fifteen minutes from now you won't be able to tell it ever happened. Still..."
Dan looked intently at Alaina Troy, the worry obvious on her face - and his. "Maybe you should go take some time out and hang with Lindsay for a while. I've got three matches to work this week, so I wouldn't have much time anyway. After the weekend we can meet back up in Memphis and take the flight out after Aggression together."
Alaina nodded. Relaxation had not been in abundance on this trip. Stress had. "I think I will." She smiled. "Too bad it's Summer - coulda hit the slopes."
Ryan smiled. "Yeah well....whatever you do, keep your mind off of this stuff for a while. Leave the suffering to me."
He offered a wink and she smiled a bit. "I will. Just take care of yourself okay? I want a life after all of this someday."
He gave her a quick kiss and she turned and walked out.
Dan Ryan stared at the door as she closed it, smiling the looked at the floor as the door clicked shut. Another stitch went through the gash on his head and he winced again.
Dan Ryan sitting pat on a long table. Medical personnel have long since left the room. Any visible signs of injury are gone, though his presence in the medical ward of the arena suggests one.
Ryan looks up and stares directly into the camera, characteristic smirk gracing his features.
Ryan: "So Flyer...."
"Did we have fun or what?"
"You are a quick little bastard aren't you?"
"So, we've had our feeling out session and accomplished absolutely nothing. So tell me, do you hate me yet or do I have to actually pin you to the mat to get the honor?"
"I was hoping that driving you down on the guardrail across your ribs might do the trick. That knee looked a little gimpy, too but hey...you get that one for free."
"It's a fortuitous circumstance we find ourselves in this week."
"All eyez on us, eh?"
"Thus far Stephen Thomas has managed to keep to himself in regards to me. I can only assume he sees this match as a mere formality, or else hopes beyond hope that you can bring the upset home."
"Regardless, you've shown yourself to be a worthy adversary Flyboy...a worthy adversary indeed."
"We established early that we weren't gonna engage it the sort of trivial guarantees that bore me so much anyway, and a good thing. And really, this delay in moving on to the final four is quite possibly a blessing in disguise since all that awaits for me is a week of listening to Vince Jacobs talk from his ass."
"Yes, High Flyer - it's not too fun to sit here and discuss life and art with you - but at least it beats listening to Vinnie talk about being 'YOUR GOD IF YOU WILL'"
"Maybe you could extend our match out a little bit. That'd be pretty sweet."
"In fact, if you could hold out for about thirty minutes or so that would be about perfect. They've got air tanks in the back if you should need it after we're done."
"Now this business about stitches on the back of my head....that's a little annoying."
"See, it's not that it hurts that badly. I've gone through worse, and so have you. Even so, I feel I owe you a bit of a receipt for that since I didn't get the chance to write one out for you last time."
"Sure, your ribs probably hurt like a ***** right about now - but a bleed for a bleed - that's always been my motto."
"You're known for using whatever is at your disposal in matches, right?"
"Why don't you bring a few friends down to the ring this week in Denver then, hmm?"
"Someting sharp should do nicely."
"Otherwise, I'm gonna have to find something around ringside....and nobody needs sloppy bloodletting."
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