Title: Broken Bones (1/1)
Content: Dark domestic abuse, knights in shining armour
Characters, Wade Barrett, OC, CM Punk, Dolph Ziggler
Rating: adult, for adult themes
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue
Summary: Wade Barrett believes Elise to be a victim. What does he do when he finds the truth?
Author note: this is a random little thing I was inspired to write. God knows where it came from.
He stomped down the hallway, frustration evident in his demeanour. He was pissed off with the outcome of that night's match, he was pissed off that the hotel bar didn't have anything resembling a half decent beer, and he was pissed off that he'd seen Dolph Ziggler practically dragging Elise back out of the arena earlier. The last one pissed him off the most. He'd heard Elise tell her boyfriend that he was hurting her, but Dolph had just shrugged and continued to pull her by her wrist to their car. Nothing pissed off Wade Barrett more than violence against a woman, and he had a horrible feeling that what he'd seen was a snapshot of Elise and Dolph's relationship, and that snapshot was certainly not a happy family portrait.
It equally didn't help that Wade was attracted to Elise, and had been for some time. The diva was a pretty little thing with a wicked sense of humour, and as she hailed from Liverpool, where he'd attended university, they had a lot in common and had spent many an evening sharing stories over a beer or five. Had, being the operative word. Once she got into a relationship with Ziggler those evenings had stopped. He'd accepted that she wanted to spend more time with her boyfriend but when he really thought about it, and thought about some other little things, he worried more and more. She didn't spend much time with the other divas any more. She barely got a match but was faithfully by Ziggler's side every week. She still smiled, but it rarely reached her eyes. He hoped that what he was seeing was coloured by his jealousy and she was in fact deliriously happy with Dolph, but he knew that wasn't true.
He kicked his hotel room door open and threw his jacket to one side, kicking the door shut again behind him. It was times like this that being an insomniac sucked. He took off his shoes and socks and laid on the bed, absently flicking through the tv channels looking for anything that might prove to be a distraction. Rolling his eyes at the incessant menu of soap operas, bad porn and tedious talk shows, he grabbed his ipod and headphones and lost himself in Lifeblood, James Dean Bradfield's voice the only thing sure to calm and engage his troubled mind.
He was almost asleep when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He found a text from CM Punk seeing if he wanted a late night gym session. In WWE, insomniacs stuck together. Tapping out a quick reply, he made to get ready to get rid of some of that pent up frustration and hopefully distract himself further from his worries.
Punk raised his eyebrows at the level of Barrett's intensity as he battered the hell out of punchbag. The man was always full on, but he could see the Englishman was furious about something.
"Man, who're you trying to kill there?"
Barrett stopped for a second, catching his breath. "Ziggler."
"What did he ever do to you, apart from steal your woman," as Barrett glowered at him, Punk shrugged, "it's obvious man. You've got a thing for the girl."
"I don't think he's treating her right," Barrett shook his head, "I know that sounds phoney, but there's stuff that doesn't add up, and tonight he pretty much dragged her out of the arena. I heard her say to him he was hurting her, but he just carried right on."
Punk was quiet for a moment, as if contemplating something, considering his words before speaking, "she had a bruise on her back last week, she said it was from a bad bump but she hasn't wrestled in months. I let it go at the time as I figured she got it in training, but when you think about it..." his voice trailed off as he realised the potential truth his words revealed. "Shit."
"I'm gonna kill him."
"Before you do anything stupid, listen to me." Punk didn't particularly have any kind of friendship with Wade but he didn't want him to do anything stupid. "You go in there all guns blazing, Elise will tell you everything is fine and you'll blow it. You two were friends, right?" Wade nodded, "reconnect with the girl. Be there ready for if and when she gets a clue."
"Stand by while he continues to beat her?" Barrett shook his head.
"You don't know for sure that's what he's doing."
With that common sense blow, Barrett found his bravado deflating slightly. He nodded and turned back to the punchbag, continuing his vicious onslaught. CM Punk gave a wry smile. If what he and Barrett suspected was true, he'd be second in the queue after the Englishman to give Ziggler a beating. He may be an asshole, but no one in his world laid their hands on a woman and got away with it.
Suddenly the punching stopped, and Barrett looked over to the door of the gym, "don't I?"
Elise had pushed the door open, and looked almost surprised that there was anyone there. She had a small bag with her, was dressed in a t shirt and track pants, and was walking with a limp. When she pushed her hair out of her face she revealed a bloody, swollen lip and the start of what would undoubtedly be one hell of a black eye. When she realised what they had seen she turned to leave, but Wade ran over to her, one arm gently moving to round her waist as he realised how close she was to collapse. He helped her to a bench and knelt in front of her, Punk followed him over and started pacing, in an effort to control his anger.
"I didn't think anyone would be here. I came for a shower and to get cleaned up," she sighed.
"What happened?" Wade asked softly.
She looked away. She couldn't face kindness, not now, "you don't need to know."
"Ziggler did this to you, didn't he?" Punk couldn't help but interrupt. Her silence spoke volumes. "That bruise last week that I saw on your back... how many times, Elise?"
"Too many," she whispered, biting her lip and then wincing at the pain.
"I'm going to bloody kill him," Wade stated bluntly, looking up at Punk to see murder in his eyes.
"Please, don't. I'm not worth the trouble you'd get into."
Elise didn't realise she was shaking, until she felt Wade's arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. He'd moved to sit by her side, holding her close as tremors wracked her body.
"You can't expect us to sit back and let this happen," Punk pointed out. "Where is he?"
"He's in our room. He's passed out, drunk. That's how I managed to get away. I was just going to come down here and get fixed up then go for a walk or something until morning."
"You'd go back to him?"
"I have nowhere else to go. He's cut me off from my friends, from my family, I'm screwed."
"You have me, still," Wade forced a reassuring smile, "come on, these gym showers are usually disgusting, come back to my room with me and I'll even run you a bath."
"I've ignored you for months, why are you being so nice to me when I don't deserve it," the dam started to break as tears formed in her eyes.
"Us Northerners have to stick together love, now come with me, and Punk and I will meet in the morning to decide what to do with the arsehole that did this to you." He looked to Punk for confirmation, and the older man nodded.
As Elise stood up stiffly, Wade's arm still around her waist, a horrible thought crossed Punk's mind. "Elise, you're limping. Tell me he didn't..." the look on her face meant the words didn't need to be spoken, "fuck."
"I'll live." The resignation in her voice told both men it wasn't the first time, and as their eyes met they swore unspoken revenge. Barrett had to gather his anger and thoughts quickly and he swept Elise up into his arms, his actions brooking no protest as he walked to the elevator which would take them back to his room. Punk followed with Elise's bag, his own mind filled with rage. At the door to Barrett's room, he simply nodded, handing the Englishman the bag and walking on, not trusting his voice less he give freedom to the words he truly wanted to say.
Gently, as if with a precious but fragile gift, Wade sat Elise down on the edge of the bed. So as not to startle her, he spoke softly.
"Elise, make this room your own. Anything you need, tell me. Would you like me to run you a bath?"
She looked up, almost surprised at her surroundings and his gentleness, "please."
He nodded and stood up, making quick work of running enough hot water to soothe her muscles and injuries. He grabbed his medical kit from his bag and left out arnica cream, some cotton wool and antiseptic creams. He then picked up her bag and left it in the bathroom for her. When he returned to her side, she had hardly moved.
"Elise, the bathroom is yours. Do you want me to do anything?"
She shook her head, "thank you. Can I stay with you tonight?"
"Of course you can."
She nodded and stiffly walked to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The silence was deafening. Wade grabbed his phone and sent a quick text to CM Punk. He wanted a piece of Ziggler and he knew he wouldn't rest until he got what he wanted.
Twenty minutes later the bathroom door opened and Elise emerged, wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a t shirt. Barrett could barely stop the bile rising in his throat as he saw bruises on her legs, the way she stepped into the room with a limp, the devastation in her eyes. He choked it down as she struggled to know what to do, and instead rushed to her side, helping her to the bed where he insisted she lay down. He pulled the covers up over here and knelt at the bedside.
"Tell me what to do, love."
"Hold me," she whispered, shuffling over so that he could join her. And he did. He felt like he would deny her nothing. He stroked her hair carefully as she started to speak. A rambling tale, almost a fairy story in its descent into a nightmare. When she spoke of being beaten and forced, he struggled to repress his rage but when she started to shake he just held her more tightly and reassured her that his anger was all for one man. Eventually, she slept. His arms felt safe.
He watched her all night, and when she awoke he reassured her she was still safe. She doubted his motives: he understood why. She asked him openly if he wanted her: he couldn't deny that fact, but promised her that was not his motivation. Fear struck her suddenly, as she realised that she had broken her bond with her abuser, but somehow his presence gave her hope. He promised to protect her, and she believed him. She saw a future, once she was healed, and she asked him if he'd consider waiting round to be a part of it. He promised he would.
She was used to broken promises, broken bones, broken bodies. Wade Barrett was used to breaking bones, bodies and hearts. But a promise was something he would never break, and he never did. He kept her heart safe.
