Wonderland [WWE] [Shawn Michaels] {Book 1}

Chapter 35: Then Make Some Damn Pancakes

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Kat's POV
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I was sitting crossed-legged on the couch, flipping through an old cookbook I got from Mama. She was very generous to give it to me. I guess Shawn told her about my failed attempts at cooking. I wasn't sure how much it would help, but I needed something to read, at least.

Kev walked into the living room, looking surprised to see me up. The boys were passing through, so they crashed with me for the night. Shawn was already on the road, so I really appreciated the company. After coming home, I had confessed to Shawn that I really didn't want or need to go back to Sarah's. I would do fine on my own.

"You're up early," Kev observed. I was well aware the sun still wasn't up yet.

I motioned for him to be a little quieter, pointing towards Kid. Somehow he had ending up spending the night on the floor, but he wasn't up yet. "I couldn't sleep. Headache kept me up."

He nodded, taking a seat next to me. "Concussions are a bitch."

I agreed, flipping through the cookbook. "Do you think you and the guys will want breakfast before you go? I think I finally figured out how to make pancakes and not burn them."

"You don't have to do that, Kat. Really. We'll be heading out soon anyway," he told me.

"I want to. I kind of need to do something, so I don't feel so useless," I admitted. I really hated just sitting around and doing nothing. "Just say yes, you'll get breakfast out of the deal," I grinned widely, pretty much begging him to agree.

Kev shook his head, laughing. "Then make some damn pancakes!"

I smiled back at him and got to work. He followed me into the kitchen and we talked while I worked on breakfast. He tried to help, but I was adamant about doing it myself.

"How's Shawn?" he eventually asked.

I gave him a look. "Not good." Shawn's knee had gone to shit, and he was going to need surgery. He was going to be forfeiting the title that night as a result.

"How'd he take it?" Kev asked. I figured he had a feeling of just how well it went.

"He cried. And then I cried. It was a mess," I admitted. I had no reason to sugarcoat it. I poured pancake mix into the pan. "The doctor we went to told him he had to retire, and you can imagine how well that went over. But," I sighed, "Dad says otherwise. So we're playing it by ear, I suppose."

Kev nodded. I turned as I heard more footsteps in the kitchen. Scott had woken up.

"Pancakes?" I offered, holding up my spatula.

"Yeah, sounds good. Who's crying?" he was confused from hearing part of our conversation.

"Aren't we all crying at this point?" I joked.

Both of them started laughing. "You've got that right," Scott chuckled.

I heard Kid whining in the other room as Scott went to wake him up. He groaned as he fell into a seat at the table, Scott not too far behind.

"Rough night?" I asked. "How was the floor?"

"I'm sorry, Kat, but your floor is terrible," he answered. "Man, I'm fucked."

I flipped the last few pamcakes. "Hungover?"

"Oh, yeah. I had way too much last night," he answered.

Scott snickered beside him. "That's your own damn fault."

I moved the last of the pancakes to the waiting plate and set the spatula down on the counter. "I can get you something for that. Just give me a second."

I went to move the pan to the sink, but squealed when my palm touched the metal, pulling my hand back immediately. The boys all turned to me to ask what happened. They were all concerned, but I waved them off.

"I just burned myself. I'll be okay," I assured them. I hissed at the stinging pain in my hand. "Kid, I'll be right back with something for your hangover. Help yourselves to pancakes." I grasped my burned hand in my good one.

When I reached the medicine cabinet, I found myself just staring at all the bottles of God-knows-what. How could I forget that the pan was hot? Who forgets something like that? I was losing it. I had to take a deep breath and remind myself that it was not my fault. My mind wasn't mine at the moment.

I grabbed the bottle for Kid, the one I used to curb my headache only a couple hours before, and walked back to the kitchen. I handed him the bottle and went to get my own plate of food.

"How's your hand?" Kev asked. That was when I noticed they were all staring at me.

I looked down at my burned hand, which was starting to blister. "I'll be fine." They didn't look so sure. "Really, guys. I'm okay."

The reason I didn't want to go back to Sarah's was because I felt like I could take care of myself. Only then was I starting to question myself.

But Shawn would be back soon enough, and hopefully I was getting better anyway.

But that didn't stop the guys from being worried about me, all the way up until they left. They probably asked if I was going to be alright about a thousand times. They even threatened to leave Kid so I'd have someone with me. They were so sweet, but I made sure they knew I'd be fine.

After they left, I found my notebook hidden between the couch cushions. When I was at Sarah's, I started writing things down that I thought were important to remember. Since I couldn't remember them myself, I had to write them.

The only thing written in the notebook was "the baby".

I made a mental note to ask Shawn about it and set the book on the coffee table where I wouldn't lose it again.

I alternated between napping and reading through Mama's cookbook until it was time for Raw.

Shawn was so choked up when he was giving up the championship. I felt so bad for him because I knew how much it all meant to him.

When he started tearing up, I did. And then, of course, I couldn't stop. My poor babe.

He mentioned the thing Mama had told him about, about losing his smile. I knew he'd be ridiculed for that line, but it really meant something to him.

When I went to sleep, I had a lot of thoughts swimming around in my head.

The worst part was, by morning I wouldn't be able to recall any of them.

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-A/N-
Poor Kat. My bby. Everything's just going downhill for Shawtherine😭