HWA Message Board: Gate Crashing

UT Southwestern Medical Center

Four days after Fatality.

Open scene.

You’re walking at pace through the sterile white corridor that leads to the ward.

Your left foot drags slightly, there’s a constant prickling of sparks running up your back from where you’d been cut by the windshield you’d gone through and your right hand is bandaged up into something akin to the club you’d see a linebacker wear on the field…

It’s a wonder that you’ve not tripped over yourself or lost your balance in the last five minutes that you’ve been making your way towards your destination.

Cradled against you is a large pizza box, your left hand holding the far side against your torso for stability. The heat from it’s contents warm your stomach in a thin strip that’s just about now becoming uncomfortable.

Nearly there.

To adjust it now would likely cause it to tumble, and well… no, you didn’t fancy throwing a temper tantrum in the middle of a ward, the loss of your dinner nor the indignity of having your own doctor some floors away remark that he’d ‘told you so’.

So you persevere.

As always.

It’s a small win, but as your wife would say, sometimes in awe, sometimes lamenting and oftentimes out of frustration, you’re ‘too bloody minded for your own good’.

You shoulder your way into the ward, the charge nurse clocking you and almost making out to say something.

’Guten abend fraulein!’

You practically shout the words at her as you continue barrelling past.

Shock and awe, as they might say.

No time given to allow a retort from her before you’re at the next door and slamming your shoulder against it.

Shit, that’ll sting!

You don’t look back as you enter the room, almost fearful that you’ll see the nurses roll their eyes at you blundering in and making a scene.

You stop and take a moment as the occupant of the room looks up from his book at you.

’I brought food.’

You smile and take a step in, gingerly extending your hand out and rotating the pizza box, grateful for the absence of the heat against your stomach.

’Good evening to you Hans-san.’

Matthew Kiriyama gently lowers the book down as with one hand he gently folds one corner of the page he’s on in, marking where he’s reached, before sliding the book to the side table next to him.

’I did wonder what the commotion was outside.’

’Jah, me…’

You slide the pizza box onto the table that’s next to his bed, careful to avoid tipping the jug of water that rests upon it over or knock anything else off.

’I must have sounded like a freight train derailing there, jah?’

’Something like that.’

You flop down into the chair that’s next to the table, already facing across to where Matthew lies.

He looks miserable… god knows I would too if that happened to me…

Cutting that thought off at the head, you pull the box open.

Keep him distracted, that’s your goal.

And you too, if it can be done.

Matthew is meanwhile inspecting the pizza, his gaze flickering across it, judging.

’No meat? Are you sure you’re German my friend?’

’I found a Sikh place… something different, jah? Chilli paneer…’

Taking a slice, you bite in.

Two sharp breaths follow as you adjust to the heat from the pizza meeting the roof of your mouth.

Through chewing, you gesture at the other slices and encourage him to partake.

’Help yourself, Ich habe das krankenhausessen satt…’

Another bite follows.

’You will be too, jah. Eat bitte.’

A few more seconds pass before Red Dragon relents, reaching across to take a slice and then pausing.

’No plate or napkins?’

’I provide the food und you provide das hospitality Matthew.’

You chuckle, your club of a right hand moving up to cover your mouth as you chew hurriedly.

’Das ist how it works mein freund.’

’You’re lucky Butch left some from lunch earlier then.’

He’s reaching back over to where he’d placed his book, before then leaning over towards you to hand you a napkin. You take it with a nod of the head, before placing it on your lap for ease of reach.

’So why are you here Hans?’

You gesticulate at the pizza box on the table.

He’s not satisfied with that response.

’Did Butch put you upto this?’

’Verpiss dich Matthew!’

You practically spit the words out. It is the truth though.

As much as Butch has spent the last few days shuttling around the various wards due to yourself, Matthew and Sean occupying beds within, he’s not asked you to do anything like this.

’I came to see mein freund. I brought you food because I’m bored as sh*t up in mein ward und thought you’d want company while you eat.’

There’s that awful moment where you think the words you’ve said have had completely the opposite effect to that which you’d intended… but then he’s relaxing, and taking his first slice properly in hand.

’I am sorry Hans-san, I mean no off…’

You wave your hand dismissively, cutting him off.

’Matthew, it’s fine. Halt den mund und eat your pizza.’

You both make the approximation of a chuckle at that, as you take another slice yourself.

The next minute or so is spent fixated on the pizza slice, that small voice that knows that that chuckle was forced is kept firmly in its box.

’So when do you get out?’

You’re startled back into the room by the question. Quickly wolfing down the last bite of your current slice, you wipe your fingers on the napkin and settle back into your chair.

’Tomorrow maybe. I’m not sure they want me flying just yet though. Stay local a few days more or take a road trip, jah?’

’You drive, now? Back to LA?’

’Nein, out to Vanessa’s parents, NOLA. Vanessa ist arriving tomorrow anyway, so I can be a passenger princess for once.’

The look Matthew gives you is scathing.

’I’ll believe it when I see it.’

You bite.
’Und what do you mean by that?’

’Hans, you are an a**hole to anyone behind the wheel who isn’t you. I have witnessed this many, many, many times.’

You stare at one another.

No noise. No movement. Just eye contact.

You break first, slumping further back into your seat.

’Jah, I am. You’re right.’

This time the chuckle that emanates from Red Dragon isn’t forced.

’What about you, when do you get out?’

’I believe it will similar, yes… from what the doctors say. I…’

No! Pull his focus back.

’Sehr gut. If it’s any longer, I’ll break you out.’

’With that hand of yours and balance like a spinning top?’

’Jah! Und you can cover for mein shortfalls und I will cover yours. Like…’

You snap your fingers twice, trying to recall.

’Like a modern day See No Evil, Hear No Evil, jah?’

The corner of his mouth pulls upwards at that.

’God help us.’

’Jah… I don’t think he’s listening mein freund…’

You both look sombre at that, clearly he’s dwelling on the events of Fatality as much as you are…

’Mein freund, I’ve had enough talk of wrestling for now… What do you think of this Hans, what do you think about this? What about that?...’

You sigh deeply as if it can exorcise the demons preying on you from the corners of your mind nevermind the frustration from the media questions earlier.

Your right club of a hand gently pats your friend’s thigh over the thin blanket.

’Nein Matthew, I want to talk about anything but our stupid, verfluchte arbeit.

Matthew nods his head, eyes looking right at you and yet through you at the same time. He’s weary, the lines etched on his face…

Shit, had they always been there?

... furrow even deeper as his nostrils gently flare outwards.

’I would like that too my friend.’

What passes for the next hour is reminiscing on the small things in life.

That album you’d both listened to in the car while driving between events in the World Wrestling Coalition? Yes, that very album, that twentieth anniversary edition has been out ten years… cue much outrage at the passing of time.

The Oblivion remaster. Many months sitting playing the original release while travelling as part of both your first runs in HWA. Those evenings in hotel rooms, taking it in turns to save Cyrodiil. The fear of corrupting the others save file ever present.

Upcoming TV shows, current sporting results (your home team, VfC Stuttgart sitting smack bang in the middle of the league table, something your father in law would rinse you for no double when you saw him in a few days).

Both of you studiously avoid the elephant in the room.

You both know it’s there, it’s inescapable.

But for this evening, you both take the opportunity to close the door on it temporarily.

You hazard a guess it will be a while before it’s closed permanently.

End scene.