Soldiers of the Wasteland
Title:
Soldiers of the Wasteland
Rating:
K+
Pairings:
You'll see.
Summary:
"Ace? It's me." CM Punk has grown weary of the New Breed, and
decides to recruit some old friends of his to form a team to combat
them in the war for dominance. Takes place after 20.03.07 episode of
ECW.
Disclaimer:
Unfortunately, I don't own the WWE or any of the characters used.
Wish I did, though, that would be awesome!
Note:
"Soldiers
of the Wasteland" is a song by DragonForce.
xxx
"Think about what the New Breed can do for you."
Elijah Burke had uttered these words to him hours before, but inside he was still seething. Right now, he was driving his way back to his hotel room from the arena, but the traffic had slowed considerably and now he was waiting. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel as he eyed the traffic lights, silently urging them to change colour. He hadn't had a chance to work off his anger through a gym session or exercise. The silence of the car was getting to him, and making him think far too much.
How dare Elijah Burke think that he had any right to interfere in his life – in his matches? He didn't need his help, far from it, he was perfectly fine with the way he was. In fact, he was better than fine. He was on fire.
He didn't like Elijah Burke.
Just like he didn't particularly like Kevin Thorn.
Just like he didn't particularly like Matt Striker.
Just like he didn't particularly like Marcus Cor Von.
He didn't like the New Breed. He never had, and never would.
So how to get rid of them?
He could handle one at a time, possibly two if he was lucky, but the remaining two? It was doubtful. He was a decent wrestler, but he was no Superman. And what about Ariel? The tarot reading fortune teller could hardly be relied upon not to interfere on her man's behalf. So, if were to ever plan on taking them out, he'd need reinforcements. People whom he loved, people whom he trusted. People whom he'd tagged with before, people whom he could rely on to get the job done. People whom he could count on to get rid of the New Breed, one and for frigging all.
The light changed colours, from red to green. He didn't care.
An idea had popped into his head. It was like a light bulb was sitting above his head, flashing brightly. Something so great, so genius, that he almost couldn't believe he'd come up with it. There were people out there, he'd remembered, who did fit the job description perfectly. There were people who he could count on to help him do this. Because he always could rely on them, no matter what happened. They'd always be there.
Guiltily he thought of the way they'd fallen out of touch over the past few months. He couldn't help it, being an ECW Extremist made him so busy. Calls had gone unanswered, voicemail messages left unreturned.
Someone behind him blasted on their horn.
The sound brought him back down to earth, and he hit 'accelerate' quickly, to avoid road wars from breaking out. The asshole. Didn't he realize he had better things to worry about?
The further he drove, the more excited about his idea he became. His idea was do-able. It could be done. All it would take would be some phone call, and perhaps plenty of pleading. He thought 'perhaps' because the only thing that worried him was their reactions. Would they do it? For him? He'd treated them pretty crappily over the past few months, only offering a simple text of 'congrats' when both had been signed to developmental deals.
It was a long shot, he thought.
But it was also worth a try.
He used his hands to direct his steering wheel to the left. He pulled up on the side of the road, and hurriedly pulled his cellphone out of his pocket. Their names were still in his contacts list somewhere, left untouched. They used to be a reminder of his past, and now they could be a part of his future. He found the first of their names, located under the letter 'A'. Pressing the green button on his phone, it started dialing the number.
He raised it to his ear, holding his breath. Waiting.
A confused voice answered… his number must've appeared on the screen as who was calling. "Hello?"
"Ace? It's me."