Commitment

He leaned his head against the hard metal locker, the silence in the empty room deafening. Closing his eyes, the night's events flashed through his mind like a horrible nightmare.

He stalked down the ramp, his piercing blue eyes glaring at the spoiled princess in the ring. She had slapped him that night after he told her the cold, hard truth about how she would be absolutely worthless without the power of nepotism. That bitch dared to lay her filthy hand on him, the most valuable commodity of the company. There would be hell to pay; he would make sure of it.

Climbing into the ring, he had a microphone in his hand, determined to demand an apology from the overprivileged bitch. He turned his attention to Vince, the only person who he respected in the WWE, the only person who actually mattered. "Excuse me, Mr. McMahon, but I think there is another apology in order," he said, looking at Stephanie. "Your daughter here slapped me in the face earlier this evening for no reason at all," he informed the CEO angrily, not taking his eyes off the billion dollar princess. "So I think you," he pointed at Vince, "should tell her," he redirected his finger to Stephanie, "to apologize to me."

Vince looked at him, a neutral expression on his features. "Why would I do that, Randy?" the old man questioned nonchalantly.

That was not the response he was expecting. The man's worthless daughter slapped him in the face and the man wasn't angry, wasn't remorse. He fought to stay calm as he spoke. "Because I am going to win the Royal Rumble this Sunday, go on to headline Wrestlemania, making you millions of dollars 'cause people pay to see me—and not you." He pointed at Stephanie, making sure she knew that he did not fear her, because he was better than her. He angled his head towards Vince. "And you might not want to admit this but ever since your daughter here has popped you out a couple of grandkids, she has become essentially worthless," he continued on. Stephanie stepped towards him, her blue eyes flashing furiously. Vince stopped her from making another mistake of slapping him and led her out of the ring, while he watched coolly.

Vince watched as his daughter walk up the ramp then turned himself to Randy. For a few seconds, the CEO did not react, his face a blank expression. He then saw the old man's visage crinkle in anger. "Who the hell do you think you are?" the CEO growled angrily. "You're standing in my ring; this is my universe; I created it and you're privileged to be in it."

Randy clenched his jaw. He did not appreciate the CEO's tone towards him. He was the Legend Killer, former World Heavyweight Champion, the future of the company. He deserved respect and he demanded it from everyone—even from the Big Kahuna himself.

The anger from Vince's voice dissipated as he continued. "Let me give you a little history lesson, Randy. Let's talk about your dad, Cowboy Bob Orton. You remember him."

He closed his eyes for a second at the mention of his father's name. He did not like where Vince was going with this, but he stayed silent.

"He was a mediocre wrassler 'til I came along, put the spotlight on him; I made your dad a superstar. He went on to be in the Hall of Fame and the reason I'm giving you this history lesson is that had I not done that, you wouldn't be standing here right now."

He fought hard to put on a cool expression, while his insides wanted to pound the grin from the old man's face. Boss or no boss, the man was pushing his buttons and even he had a limit.

"Had I not done that, chances are you would be," Vince shrugged, "maybe a gym teacher in St. Louis." An "ooohhhhhh" came from the crowd.

Randy narrowed his eyes at the wealthy man before him. If there was anything he hated, it was people who thought he owed them for his success. Vince may have hired him, but without his natural born talent and charisma, he would not be where he was today. Vince did not make him, he made himself.

"What I'm saying is," Vince carried on, "now, you can apologize to me." The CEO lowered his microphone and looked expectantly at the Legend Killer.

Randy tilted his head slightly and narrowed his steel, blue eyes at The Chairman of the Board. He kept a cool composure as he sized up the old man. Vince was not the most physically intimidating individual on the planet, compared to the wrestlers, but the way he carried himself exuded power and authority. People feared him. Seven foot giants would cower in his presence. But Randy was the exception, he always was. He would not fear the CEO; he would not yield, not tonight…not ever.

Vince looked a little impatient as he lifted the microphone to his lips. "Apologize to me…or else," he demanded slowly.

He stepped closer to the boss, squinting his eyes. He glared at the man, attempting to reverse the tables. Vince would fear him, not the other way around.

"Apologize to me or I'll terminate you right here on Raw," Vince threatened and the crowd roared excitedly.

Fire him? He was the best thing that ever happened to Raw. Cena only appealed to the women and children. He appealed to everyone. He made the company millions. He drew people to the seats. People watched him. Yet, the old man did not appreciate his accomplishments nor did he recognize his talent. He was sick and tired of being underappreciated, of being pushed aside for Golden Boy Cena. He lifted the microphone to his lips and spoke for what seemed like the very first time.

"You…don't want to do that, sir." He added the respectful title at the end but his tone was heavily laced with menace. The crowd began to chant "RKO" as Vince glared at him, apparently recognizing the threat in his voice. He saw Vince begin to lift the microphone with a determined expression on his face. The man opened his mouth and Randy knew what was coming. The bastard would not, could not-

"Randy Orton, you're f—"

Before the CEO could get his words out, Randy slapped him, watching as the billionaire fall to the mat. Vince struggled to regain balance and the Legend Killer glared down at the man's head. He wanted the man to know what it was like to look up at someone from the bottom, to be the one in the vulnerable position for once. He felt a rush of adrenaline run through his body and he loved it, craved it. Without thinking, he kicked the man in the head, watching the CEO fall over once more. On impulse, he rushed over and punted him in the head. Only then did he realize that he had made a terrible, tragic mistake. Referees and Stephanie rushed into the ring; all he could do was stare at the wounded man lying near the ropes. What had he just done?

He slowly opened his eyes, welcoming the numbness that paralyzed his body. He did not want to feel anymore tonight. He had experienced too many emotions in a span of two hours: elation at defeating Kane, nervousness at potentially being terminated by Stephanie, anger at being slapped by the bitch, fury at being talked down to by Vince, and fear from destroying a man who had brought him up and with a snap of his fingers could easily bring him down.

His mind then drifted to the group that he led, Legacy. They had just form last week when Ted returned from his injury. How would he tell them that the stable might have to end before it even started? Normally Randy did not care about anyone's career but his own. But those two, DiBiase and Rhodes, had potential. They could do great things and Legacy would lead them down the road of success. However, thanks to Randy, they might not get that chance. If he got fired, which he was sure he would be, would those two become a tag team again and reestablish Priceless? Randy frowned at the thought. He had always hated that name; Legacy was much better—it was regal, and it had him in it. They could not just forget about him and move on. However, he knew the phrase "the show must go on" held true in the wrestling business.

He was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he did not notice a figure slip into the room and sat down next to him.

"What were you thinking?"

Randy looked to the side and saw that Cody was looking at him, the boy's eyes searching for answers that Randy was not sure he could give. He simply shrugged. "I guess that was the problem; I wasn't thinking." His tone was devoid of any emotion and he turned to stare at the lockers in front of him.

Cody put his hands to the sides of his head. "You just punted the CEO of the WWE in the head tonight. Do you know what this means?" The 23-year old looked at Randy in shock and disbelief.

He lowered his eyes to the floor. He knew what his actions meant—losing his job, losing everything. A small tear slipped down his cheek at the thought of what would come.

"What would Legacy be without you?" Cody asked softly, clasping his hands together.

His gaze moved towards the boy and Randy felt a shimmer of guilt at the boy's lost expression. He had promised the second generation wrestler great things if he joined Legacy, building the boy's hopes up. Now they were crashing down at the speed of light and there was nothing to be done. "You'll be okay. You still have DiBiase," he attempted to comfort Cody. "You can be what you were before--Priceless."

"But we won't be what we could…and that's great," the boy countered. "That was why I joined Legacy; I wanted to be better than I was. I wanted my career to reach unprecedented heights. I wanted to be like…" Cody's voice trailed and he looked at Randy.

A ghost of a smile appeared on the Legend Killer's lips. "You don't want to be like me. If there was any proof, tonight was it," he said dully.

"The world is not over just because you make one mistake," Cody reasoned.

But Randy knew he didn't just make one mistake; he made the mistake. He made enemies with the man upstairs and he was going to pay. "You think TNA will hire me?" He did not even look at the boy as he asked.

Cody stood up, looking down at Randy. "I have to go."

Randy did not respond, continuing to stare at the lockers as he heard the door slam shut. What did he expect, that Cody would say he will join TNA if Randy went? Rhodes was not a dog though Randy did talk to him sometimes like he was one. Randy was not his master and Cody did not owe him master loyalty.

In what seemed like hours, the door opened again. Cody appeared in front of him with a big grin on his face. "Good news—you're not fired."

He perked up at the information. Not fired? Was the boy pulling his leg? "What do you mean?" he demanded curiously, impatiently.

Cody sat down and turned his head towards him. "I talked to my dad who talked to Vince. My father convinced him to only give you a 30 day suspension but you're out of the Royal Rumble." Cody gave him a sympathetic look.

He was no longer in the Royal Rumble but he did not care. There were other Royal Rumbles. He was only 28; he wasn't worried. What shocked him was that someone actually fought to keep his job. The world was a cruel place. No one helped without a price. "Why?" he asked softly.

Cody furrowed his brows, obviously confused. "Why what?"

"Why did you help me?"

Cody scratched the back of his head and shrugged. "You're my leader. What kind of a person would I be if I just left you hanging high and dry? Besides, Legacy is nothing without you. Imagine Destiny's Child without Beyonce," he joked.

Randy chuckled. His expression then turned serious. With Evolution, he always had to watch his back. Sure, Flair, Batista, and Hunter acted nice to him in the ring, but behind closed doors he always felt that they were plotting to take him down—especially Hunter. His suspicion was confirmed when they had ruthlessly attacked him after he won the World Heavyweight Championship. With Legacy, it was different. Ted had sacrificed himself to help Randy earn a spot in the Royal Rumble. Randy had appreciated that. When he won, they won. But Cody took the loyalty to a more personal level. He had kept him from being terminated, thus keeping his dreams intact. This type of selflessness, Randy was not used to. He was used to everyman for himself. The mentality carried him to championship gold but it also alienated him from most of the roster.

"I just hope that if I need a favor…" Cody's voice broke into his thoughts.

"I'm here," he promised instantly.

Cody gave him an appreciative nod, uttering, "thanks" before leaving the room.

After tonight, he realized that they were a team. What was good for them was good for him and vice versa. They scratched his back and he scratched theirs. He realized that loyalty was not a one-way street. He had promised the boy great things and he would make sure that the 23 year old would get them. It was the least he could do.