In years past, the failures upon the biggest stage would result in a battle of wits between the two. Stephanie would be snarky and, the past two years, sore, while Hunter would be angry at himself and, unable to express that properly, he'd take it out on his wife. They both would, honestly, take things out on one another. It wouldn't last forever though as they always were able to readjust their anger to where it truly belonged eventually.

On everyone other than themselves.

It was hard, honestly, constantly believing that you're the only two people of any intelligence in a room, but Stephanie and Hunter had had practice. They had lapses at times, where they doubted one another and their abilities, but ultimately, they found themselves back at center where the only people they could trust was the one that looked back at them from the mirror and then one they could turn their head towards in bed at night, faithfully by their side.

Everyone else?

Weren't worth shit.

It was hard sometimes though for their delusions of power to be met. They saw the control they wielded as more than it truly was. While, yes, they did control the fates of others in their palms to a certain extent, there was a lot more that went into the reality of their organization than one thought. There were contracts and the board and ratings to all worry about.

If they cut every single person that pissed them off out of the equation, they'd end up just the two of them, every night, having to fill three hours of airtime by talking. And while Hunter and Stephanie certainly, without a doubt, could find something to rave about for three hours a week, ad nauseam, even his hug ego had a feeling they'd see a drop in the ratings. And stock. And everything that made wrestling so important.

But the point was that he and Stephanie weren't completely out of touch with reality. They knew that they weren't supreme rulers over the dominion or wrestling or anything absurd. They just…

They just never expected to feel as powerless as they did that night.

Hunter wasn't mad at Stephanie. Stephanie wasn't mad at Hunter. They didn't feel anything.

"I'm so fucking worthless."

Until they were alone in their hotel room.

It was Hunter who said this as he sat there, on the edge of the bed, listening while Steph ran him a warm bath in the adjoining bathroom. She didn't hear what he said it seemed, but honestly, he didn't want her to. He was talking to himself anyways.

Everything felt muted. Like he was swimming underwater. His system had been shocked, but a reset wasn't all that was going to be required this time. His hard drive was fried and he didn't think he even wanted a replacement. Fuck the whole thing.

Fuck the whole damn thing.

It was so demoralizing. Was this what it felt like, all those years, for those losers that he creamed in the ring? No, probably not. Because the difference was, Hunter knew the heights he could reach. He knew the strength he possessed. Or had reached. Had possessed. Because now...now…

He'd blamed Stephanie, before, and then once they made up, together they placed the blame in others. Fuck Reigns for fucking spearing Steph and distracting him. Fuck Rollins for not realizing that they had given him everything he had and made him who he was and he would be nowhere without them. That was easy. He'd been able to right off those failures. But this one…

Kurt wasn't better than him. How could he be? Sure, Kurt had actual accomplishments that didn't involve, you know, slipping into speedos and partaking in extravagant realities all to win a belt, but at the same time, his other accomplishments were the Olympics. And those were so overrated and stupid and didn't translate at all into the extravagant realities that were so much more important and valuable anyways.

And fine, maybe Ronda was tougher than Steph or more able in the ring, but she was green as fuck as far as real wrestling went. Not that bullshit MMA/UFC no showmanship bullshit that only people with absolutely not real taste ever watched. Stephanie was a former Woman's Champion. And that meant something. What, no one was too sure, but certainly something.

Mostly, Hunter was disappointed in himself. How many times could it happen before he admitted it, huh? How many times did he have to lose, get knocked down, before he came to the conclusion that maybe he wasn't supposed to be doing this anymore? Sure, he hadn't been the one to get pinned or tapped out, but he had been in the match. He was lying on the ground, in pain, as Stephanie had her ligaments torn by damn Rousey.

He should have stopped it. He should have stopped her. What the fuck kind of wrestler was he anymore? Huh? That he'd been bested by her. Fine, Rousey was a tough chick and all that good shit, but better than him?

Just how many of those were there now? Those people who were better than him?

Too many.

He was a fucking loser. No two ways about it. He wasn't any good at wrestling anymore. Not this aspect of it. He was a chump. Plain and simple. The longer he tried at all this, the worst he was tarnishing his legacy.

Maybe…

"I think it might be time to hang it up."

He was speaking to Stephanie who was coming out of the bathroom at that moment, to tell him the bath was ready, but she froze at his words. Honestly, her being there mad ehim feel even worse.

Her arm was in a damn sling and she was still taking care of him.

How much of a wimp was he?

"Hunter," she chided as she only came closer as to stand before him. "Stop thinking about it. You- Hey-"

When she tried to touch his shoulder, he'd shrugged her off. Also refusing to look the woman in the eyes, he said, "It's time, Steph. I'm not… How? Fucking embarrassing. Everything. It-"

"I said sorry already. I didn't-"

"You're not embarrassing." And he did raise his eyes then, just to look into hers and assure her that no matter what he typically said after a Wrestlemania loss, he never once blamed her for anything. At all. Because he was different. Since their first failed relationship, he'd always made it a point to make this clear to Stephanie.

His losses were his and his alone.

His failures, his misgivings. None of that was on her. And even though sometimes he might snap at her and imply that they were, it rarely took long for him to come back down off his anger and admit that the fault was all his own. Because it was. He was the veteran out there. He was the one that was expect to carry them. Sure, he and her were a team, in everything, but when they were in those ropes, it was his job to make sure it all went as planned.

Hers was just to wear a lot of leather and cheer him on to victory.

The latter hadn't been happening much at all lately though.

If at all.

"At all," he was assuring his wife then. "So don't apologize."

"If I were tougher-"

"Fuck Rousey. Fuck this loss. It's not even what I'm so upset about."

"Then-"

"It's the whole thing, Steph," he told her with a sigh. "I just...I used to be somebody. Now? Now I don't even fucking know what it would mean to be anymore. Out there. In the ring. I can't win. I can't…"

"You know that's not true."

"Not true? Steph, I have the worst fucking 'mania record of all time!"

"Only because you've been talented enough to get into so many."

"Talented enough? Or know enough people?"

"Hunter-"

"I'm a fucking joke."

"Not to me." And, even though she really wanted that bath, she moved to take a seat beside him on the end of that hotel bed because, at the end of the day, there was nothing that was more important to Stephanie McMahon than making sure that her husband was alright. And at the moment? He was far from it. "Or our girls. Or-"

"Baby, don't."

"You're not. You-"

"I'm a loser, Stpehanie. That's what the word means. When I step into the ring now, people expect me to lose. Do you know what that's like?"

"I mean-"

"No, not like you. Like, yeah, people think you'll lose. But you were never successful like me. You never had them thinking you could win like me."

She blinked. Then frowned. But didn't rebuke.

"But me," he went on, "I was a start. A superstar. I was important. And now I'm...I'm not."

Stephanie glanced down at her hands before, leaning to rest against his arm, she said, "You are to me."

"Thanks," he replied dryly. "Means a lot."

"And you meant a lot Saturday," she pointed out. "Didn't you? Last night?"

"When?" he asked with a frown. "You mean at Takeover?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "You're, like, the most important person there, Hunter. It doesn't run without you. It doesn't exist without you."

Shaking his head a bit, he told her, "It's not the same thing though."

"It's not," Stephanie agreed. "But so much more important. To me, at least. And to you too. You've said it before. You love being on the side of things you are now. And I love watching you be able to do it. This is what you were made for. This is cerebral. What you did before...all your accomplishments in the ring… Maybe they were just leading to this? Maybe you're right. Maybe...maybe it is time to hang them up."

It was solemn too, when she said this, and Hunter sat there for a moment, hanging his head, watching the carpet intently. He wasn't considering her words. Rather, he was considering what he was doing.

Finally, lifting his head, Hunter looked to the woman with the grin he'd been missing since the final moments of their match.

"I see what you're doing, Stephanie," he remarked as he reached out to gently pat her on the back. "Agreeing with me to make me realize how absurd it sounds?"

"What?"

"Imagine it; a world where Triple fucking H didn't beat the shit out of people who mess with his wife. Who come after him first. That's what people always do; they come after us. Because they know that it's the only way that they ever amount to anything. I don't go around, looking for fights. Why the fuck would I have to? Reigns, Rollins, and now fucking Ronda too. How many other fucking R names are on this damn roster? Fuck 'em. Fuck 'em all. And fuck anyone who doesn't believe in us. Why? Because we lost a few stupid matches that neither of us were even prepared for? Imagine, pitting a poor mother of three against a world-renowned fighter and thinking that was fair. We did this to be nice. To get her stupid name out there. That's it, that's all."

Stephanie stared at him for a long moment, not too sure what to say. Though it terrified her in some ways, that one day her husband wouldn't be around to clean up her tomfoolery, the idea that maybe he shouldn't go out there just to get loses wasn't one she rejected. It would probably kill her, that first time he wasn't able to step in the ring and defend her, but at the same time, his imagine, reputation, and even in some ways his own mental psyche meant more to her than her own.

Still…

Though it was typically rather difficult to find for most, Stephanie did have a heart. And it was reserved for moments like she was having right then, with her husband, who clearly had wanted her all along to talk him out of what he had seemed to be talking himself into. While how his imagine, reputation, and mental psyche were viewed in the eyes of others mattered, how he himself viewed them were far greater.

"That's it," she agreed. "That's all."

And even though they were both typically disillusioned in many aspects, they each knew that the other saw through the facade. The match had hurt them both, physically and mentally, but it was no matter. Stephanie and Hunter were embodiment of the idea that if you tell yourself something enough, then it's certainly the truth. And if that's the truth that her husband decided to go with, then the pair would stick with it for the rest of their lives.

"Now come on," he said as he stood just so he could hold a hand out to her. "Let's get you in that bath, huh? Before the water cools? Your arm will probably enjoy it."

"Just be gentle," she sighed as she got up. "They say it's not broken, but it sure feels like it."

His grin was false because there was no way either of them were up for much happiness that night, but he still did nod as he gestured for her to follow him. It was only once they were both sinking into what was supposed to be their celebratory tub, that Hunter spoke.

"I love you, you know," he said in his gruff tone of voice. "Steph. No matter what."

He meant no matter the fact that because she wasn't strong enough, they'd lost the match. Because she'd allowed stupid Kurt Angle to be involved in literally anything at all, they'd gotten into the match in the first place. Because she failed, he had to say that."

"I love you too," she agreed as she rested back against his chest. "No matter what."

And she meant that no matter the fact he was weak now and couldn't protect her when she ran her stupid mouth off and that maybe it was time for him to retire and he'd never be what he once was and he agreed with her. Completely. Whole thing.

But even for both their insecurities, even the ones that they were unable to share with one another, neither had any qualms about using one another for comfort in such a great time of terror. Their weaknesses had, once more, been exposed, but they were together.

They would always be together.

And when under great duress, there was nothing like it. Their love.

For all the shit that got thrown at them constantly due to the company and their inability to recognize the limitations of their power, the confirmation that was always brought to them about their love when their schemes eventually blew up in their faces was always welcome.

Not as good as, you know, actually seeing a plan through to fruition, but…

Losing had its perks, Hunter reminded himself as he sunk lower in the water, one hand dipping below it as well to pat at Stephanie's hip. Losing had its perks.

Last post mania we got an argument, so I figured this time I'd go with something a bit different. It felt different, anyways. Steph and Hunter's fall from grace from the early days of being so successful to now not even being able to beat fucking Angle, but still having each other is a really nice bow to stick on their relationship, I think. For all the chasing of glory they'd done, it was just each other they needed all along.