Disclaimer: I own nothing save for 'Redemption's' lyrics.
A/N: 'Redemption' is a song I made up myself. Rich Ward is the main composer for Fozzy, Chris' band. And just in case you didn't realise, the pairing is Chris/Adam.
Redemption
It wasn't working.
You knew you were in trouble right from the start. The tune reminded you so strongly of him that you must almost force yourself to gasp and just breathe. It was a full minute after the song ended when you could finally speak again. And even then, it was just a shaky, "I'll get it done by Sunday."
You refused to look at Rich as you turned tail and ran.
---
It had begun as most things begin - slowly and unnoticed. The pair of you were alike enough to be considered tag team material and were groomed to behave as such. Living together was not difficult so much as requiring some time to get used to. And in the dungeons, you get used to things all too quickly. Meals were shared, as were conversations, and it was a matter of time before thoughts became shared too. You could recognise his voice, his step, his scent from a mile away. It ought to have disturbed you then, but in the mindless dark, neither of you bothered with the warning signs. Instead you practice move after submission after fucking move.
Training sessions were tough and both of you struggled through each day as if it were the last. But always, you more than him. You used to think it was because you were weak not that you'll ever say that out loud. But now you realise different - you had to have been struggling because you were always given more.
Life was unfair, and Bret was just leveling the odds.
It was only after the first grueling month did you really get to know him as a person rather than a partner (not that you didn't have the chance, but after the third straight session with Stu you really couldn't be bothered), and realised perhaps there was something more. A darkness that was wrapped around him, a cloud perpetually over his head. What exactly, you didn't know. But the latest drills would come along and all you can concentrate on is chickenwing, hammerlock, get that armbar right damn it.
It was only when you breathed in the fresh air again did you realise that he was gone.
---
The first verse was coming smoothly when he called. You don't know what could have possibly prompted him to call, maybe that feud that you have going on?, but you ignore it and continue writing.
You were up to the chorus when your phone rang again. You stared at the bright-lit screen, squinting and consciously not thinking of anything. It flashed tens times before it went dark. Before you can consider how ridiculous it is that you are there, sitting in the dark and writing illegible lyrics and letting your phone battery run dead, he rings yet again.
You consider throwing the phone out of the window and pretending not to notice it.
Escape is a cowardly decision but you have never believed yourself to be particularly brave. Just foolhardy. Lionheart indeed.
You did not sleep for the rest of the night, working on your lyrics.
Who are you kidding, that set was doomed from the first word.
---
You met up again, eventually. It was different, yet exactly the same.
He, the established loner. You, the rising upstart. Except this time, his partner is not you. You don't know what to make of it yet, and so you concentrate on fighting and jobbing and getting buried instead of the tag team titles that were always just out of reach. You refuse to consider why he wasn't paired with you, and instead continually knock on Vince's door to stop letting you feud with a damn woman and give you a chance. Needless to say, neither requests were deigned with an answer. There is a hierarchy in the wrestling business and you were not on it. You considered going on your 'conspiracy victim' rampage again until you realised there was no higher authority than the US president for you to go to, save for god. And if god were on your side, you wouldn't have needed to protest to begin with.
Watching him with his gold and hilariously stupid antics, you wonder if he was always going to be on a different plane.
---
Winning the undisputed championship wasn't a well-earned climb up Mount Everest. It was a comet burst, and you knew you were going to fall.
You just didn't know how hard the landing would be.
It was during this period, while you were still a star, that he came to you. You would have expected it, except that he was no longer the reserved loner you knew, but a newly minted half of a duo.
You thought partnerships meant that the halves would never be apart.
Apparently not.
"Jay's out for the night. You want to come for a drink?"
You consider reminding him that drinking while on duty was frowned upon, but realise he doesn't really care, and neither did you. You drank till the lights blurred and the world span and the many 'almost' moments from before met and became one. It was like a car wreck that passing by cars are drawn to, slow down and watch, and inevitably crash into a nearby pole for. It was a breakdown, but oh so beautiful.
You weren't really surprised when he wasn't there the next morning.
You lost the championship the day after.
---
You were through with your sixth revision of the lyrics when there was a knock on your door. It was a Saturday and you hadn't ordered from room service and there couldn't possibly be anyone up at this unholy hour.
Anyone except for him. And you.
He did not let you slam the door in his face by firmly holding the door apart. There is quiet determination there that wasn't there before or you hadn't noticed, not that you were looking. You pretend you weren't going to do that anyway, and invite him in with the expedient tilt of the head. He enters and settles himself on the sofa while you chose to sit at the armchair further removed from him. It always helped to be prepared.
You did not pour him a drink - since you weren't allowed the benefit of intoxication the last time, he wasn't about to get it either.
---
"We need to talk."
It was cliched, it was dramatic, and it was so typical of you. Therefore it was a shock to hear him say those words instead. Nonetheless, you agreed with the sentiment if not the manner it was presented. A time and date was set, suitably distant from the hotel and earshot of the rest of the corporate entity that is Vince's playground. Wrestling proves that you have a death wish, but that doesn't mean you wish for it to come too early. You suspect that it is the same for him.
He managed to surprise you yet again by appearing early at the venue instead of fashionably late. Obviously not all traits were shared by both partners in a tag team. You mentally stop your mind from wandering its leisure course and drag it harshly to the here and now. You'll need all your mental faculties at the ready to deal with him. Not to say physical and emotional faculties, although spiritual may be pushing it a little...
Small talk proceeded a quick three-course meal eaten in silence. You resolutely stare at your food as he, just as resolutely, stared at you. Sometimes, it was just a matter of who would break first. But not this time - as you stabbed a stray carrot with particular viciousness - not this time. This time, you win.
His words flow like water over rock. Over time, the rock may wear down, but you don't give him that. Instead, you remain impervious to all his treaties.
His voice cracks on a particular plea, and you feel like smiling. Heck, you feel like laughing but you would not give yourself the satisfaction. Let it stretch, you think, let it stretch till it cracks and breaks and there's no return.
---
Your return had been so well publicised that you were certain everyone in the locker room knew you would be back. And sure enough, your place was waiting for you. As was him.
"How is Jessica and the children?"
Better than you'll ever be, but you don't say that. Instead, a subdued, "Fine. And how is your family?"
"Very well indeed."
You wished to wipe that smirk off his face. Even as he disappeared from the room, all you could think of is him and him eating his words in the form of a pounding from you. It was not until you met Jay later on in the week did you realise that he got divorced again, soon after you left WWE.
You will not scrutinise the timing of his relationship break ups.
You will not.
---
For the hundredth or is it thousandth time, you were interrupted while finishing up the song. You were irritated, but still it was no excuse.
"He would rather you lash out at him, you know. Even that is better than your chill."
When Matt fucking Hardy is banging your door down for you to forgive him, you know that something is seriously wrong. Either you have severely banged up your head or you have gone straight to hell. You would greatly prefer it to be the former, since there seems to be a possible cure, while the latter is just unbearable.
"I just think you should give him a chance."
You do give in to your inner urge this time and slam the door in Hardy's face. After Amy both of them were hardly on speaking terms. And now...
But no, you must not give up. You have suffered too much to let it go now.
And Matt? Poor overweight and broken Matt? Matt has to talk.
---
"I spent the whole weekend working on it, so you better not lose it." You mustered up your sternest voice, but the weariness underlying it belies the anger. Rich stares at you as if seeing you for the first time and you feel like whacking him up the head except you can't really get up the energy to.
"Alright, thanks."
He walks away and you think finally its over before all turns to black.
Endless days and tireless nights
Every moment a struggle
Raging anger and countless fights
I need to feel you tonight
I need to know you are here tonight
Fire burns through me
Refining like the finest crystal
Clarity returns to me
And it is at this second I see
Redemption is near
With you I can find
Redemption
Memories that take to flight
Searing through the darkness
Suddenly I see the light
I know that there's no wrong and right
I know I need you here tonight
Give me a chance
Just let me see you face to face once again
I need to know
That I've not lost my heart my soul forever