Chapter One
"Here is your winner and NEW WWE Women's Champion… KATIE LEA!"
The announcement continued to ring in Mickie's ears despite her best efforts to shut it out. It couldn't be true, and yet they were playing Katie's music. Mickie was forced to lay and listen as that grungy tune continued to pierce her ears. But even that couldn't drown out Lilian's announcement of a new Women's Champion.
Dazed and confused, Mickie struggled but sat up. It was something she regretted the instant the task was completed. Before her she saw the celebration of the Burchill family as they basked in the glory of Katie's first Women's Championship reign. But what was perhaps more pressing of a matter for the former champion was that Paul Burchill had set his sights on the recovering diva.
As Katie watched on with a twisted glint in her eyes, Paul advanced on the downed diva. Mickie tried to get to her feet, only to wince at the pain shooting through her neck when any effort was exerted. For her own safety she was forced to scoot backwards into the corner, holding a hand out as the only defense to Paul's advances. But it didn't stop the grasp on her hair as he yanked Mickie aggressively to her feet. The Burchill brother glanced towards his sister, getting a nod of encouragement.
Mickie squeezed her eyes shut, unable to fight back after the results of her championship match with Katie Lea. Not only had she taken herself to the limits to prove that she could beat the Lady Burchill, but Katie had herself a secret weapon. And it happened to be what she was currently at the mercy of. The match seemed to be in the books as Mickie planted Katie with an impaler DDT, only for Paul to take the referee out of the game. As Mickie checked on the downed official, Paul made himself known to the champion, taking her down from behind with a very Twisted Sister that allowed Katie to crawl into the cover.
And now Mickie was once again about to suffer at the hands of Paul Burchill. With her eyes closed in dreaded anticipation, she felt herself falling. A panicked yelp escaped her lips but instead of crashing painfully into the canvas, she fell awkwardly to her side and stared in surprise as Katie Lea darted from the ring. Mickie's eyes darted from Katie where she found her savior in the form of a loud-mouthed brass rebel known to all as Miiiiiiissstttteerr Kennedy. Kennedy.
Mickie crawled into the corner, fearing for her own safety as Ken turned up the trouble on his rival. Paul Burchill had nowhere to run thanks to Ken's onslaught in the form of a closed-fisted brawl. Referees flooded the ring to tear apart the unsanctioned fight but Ken would not be denied, breaking free and spearing Paul right out of the ring! The referees quickly followed, desperately trying to get Ken off of Paul, who did his best to cover up and save himself from Ken's murderous rage.
The mass of referees succeeded once again in ripping Ken's death grip off Paul, allowing the brother to crawl to the safety of the announcer's table. Ken swung and kicked wildly at his restraints, fighting off any and everyone who put their hands on him. He spotted Paul getting back to his feet and let out a primal roar as he tore through the referees and ran full force…
CRAAAAACK!
…into a glass pitcher that Paul smashed into Ken's face! Mr. Kennedy dropped to the floor, grabbing his face and yelling out in agony. Paul didn't wait around to enjoy the damage he caused, darting around the ring and joining his sister, the WWE Women's Champion, as they raced backstage to find sanctuary.
EMTs quickly joined the referees are ringside, no longer a struggle to contain Mr. Kennedy. Now, everyone watched on with apprehension as Ken's hands became smeared with his own blood pouring from his face. Mickie remained frozen in the ring, her eyes watching with fear as the sight of Ken's blood.
Minutes feel like hours later. Or maybe it has been hours later. Mickie had honestly lost all concept of time after she made it through the curtain. The only thing she knew for sure was that she was no longer the WWE Women's Champion. She knew that Paul Burchill and Katie Lea had devised the perfect plan to ensure that they left this Night of Champions with the gold. Her gold. Everything after the Twisted Sister was a blur to her, but she knew that much.
"Mickie! Mickie wait up!"
The familiar voice of WWE Diva Maria calls out to her, but Mickie doesn't dare stop. In fact, she actually picks up the pace at the sound of the voice. She isn't sure why exactly. It isn't like Maria has done anything to her. Maria was one of her best friends, but she just couldn't deal with people right now.
"Mickie!"
Mickie finds herself with no choice as Maria's voice is closer that time. Next she feels Maria's hand barely graze her shoulder, urging her to turn around. With a sigh, Mickie obliges and faces her friend. Maria's looks of empathy is almost too much to bear. It feels far too much like pity to Mickie. And that is exactly why she didn't want to deal with anyone right now. All she wanted to do was wallow in her loss, and the only person she wanted pitying her right now was herself.
"Mickie, I…"
Maria struggles to comfort her broken friend with words of encouragement, but it appears easier said than done. Mickie was ready to give in and play happy just to end the torment this was putting her through, but those plans become a distant memory when she spots another superstar in the distance. Maria's eyes quickly follow Mickie's, darting over her shoulder to spot John Cena walking and talking with a random WWE employee.
Like any other day, John Cena looks to be full of jokes and laughs as he carries the entire conversation. Like any other day, like nothing is wrong. Like Mickie didn't just lose her WWE Women's Championship. Like Mickie wasn't just attacked by Paul Burchill. Like Mickie didn't just watch another man bloodied in an effort to save her.
When Maria's empathetic expression returns to Mickie, the former Women's Champion is already halfway down the hall. Her back is to Maria (and Cena) and she doesn't dare look back. Her hands nearly cover her face as she forces back all her emotions and focuses entirely on getting as far away as quickly as possible.
She shoves open the first door she comes to, slamming it shut behind herself. Safely inside from the pitying eyes and everything else, Mickie leans back against the door, her eyes glued to the floor. Heavy breath after heavy breath inflates and then deflates her chest, taking comfort in the fact that she's finally alone… or is she?
"Rough night?" Ken asks, taking a swig from the bottle.
Slowly, Mickie's eyes raise up from the floor to stare directly ahead at the individual lounging back against one of the many equipment cases stored here. With a beer bottle in one hand, Ken gently touches the bandage over the corner of his eyebrow, cringing at the pain it produces. Mickie's expression remaines void of any emotion as she stares straight ahead at her savior.
"Tell me about," he responds dryly to her lack of response.
Mickie tears her eyes away from him, staring up at the ceiling now as she resumes her internal struggle. To cry, or not to cry. That was the question of the night. And one that Mickie seems to be losing control of. A single sniffle brings about a sob that starts the water works. Far from crying a river, Mickie does finally allows some tears to well up in her eyes.
This brings about a silent and conflicted expression from the usually loud and focused Ken. He winces at the sight of Mickie finally breaking down but his attempt at getting up is halted by his own discretion. Does he want to go to her? Would she even let him? More questions without answers.
Ken decides to answer the first one. With a sigh, he slides down off the equipment case, leaving his beer behind as he gingerly approaches the diva. Cautiously and with much hesitation throughout, he reaches out to her. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and slowly he pulls her into what is meant to be a comforting hug.
Mickie presses her forehead to his t-shirt clad chest and allows herself to feel the emotion of defeat, no matter what circumstance it occurred under. Ken's eyes tell his own story of how awkward this moment is for him. Should he really be the one comforting her? And why is she even letting him?
After a very heavy and deep breath, Mickie finally tears her face out of Ken's embrace, craning her neck to look up at the man she's allowed to see her in this vulnerable moment. More awkwardness fills Ken's eyes and posture as he finds his face just inches from Mickie's. The man with something always on his mind seems to be at a complete loss for words. But that doesn't stop him from trying.
"Mickie, I…"
He trails off breathlessly, not sure what to say in a moment like this. Apologize for the situation? Offer condolences over her championship loss? What is there to do… except kiss? Without a clear indication from either side, someone initiates just that as Ken Kennedy's lips meet those of Mickie's. Regardless of who initiated it, both begin to eagerly return it. Ken's hands move from Mickie's back to her jaw, cradling her face in his hands as he returns the kiss with a fiery passion. Mickie's hands find their way to his biceps, clutching to the sleeves of his shirt as she intensifies the kiss just as fervently.
End of Chapter 1