Bound and Chained : Edge of Reason
Prologue

Disclaimer
WWE belongs to those that own WWE. Original characters are mine. Don't steal, don't sue.

Author's Notes
Set in 2001, after the end of The Power Trip days. For a refresher, at Wrestlemania X-7, Triple H and Stone Cold Steve Austin joined forces and wreaked havoc for awhile. It ended when Triple H tore his quadriceps after Judgment Day 2001 in a match with Chris Jericho and Chris Benoit. From that point on, I'm creating my own universe in which Steve Austin continued alone in his own version of The Power Trip, without the aid of Mr. McMahon. Because of the timeline of the story, the company is still called the WWF. If it continues past the Invasion, which as far as I've planned, it shouldn't, the name change will be reflected. Also, in my timeline, Edge and Christian have been broken up for about a year. While there may be some canonical mentions, for the most part, I've changed most of the story.

When she introduced herself, trying to hide the nervousness, she noticed the man eyeing her up and down, examining her as if she was a piece of meat and he was a starving man. She fought to keep back the shudder that she knew wanted to overcome her, and instead jutted out her chin, trying to appear stubborn and strong. She certainly didn't feel that way. The man in front of her was an intimidating figure, despite the welcoming smile on his face. There was something about him that she didn't like; she just couldn't put her finger on it.

"Mind if I call you Lauren?" he asked, releasing the hand that he had been shaking, giving her another look.

"Please do," she said, hoping to hell that he hadn't heard the quiver in her voice when she spoke.

He gestured into the house and stepped back for her to walk in, closing the door behind her. "We'll talk in the living room. Anything to drink? Water, coffee, beer?" he offered, leading her to the aforementioned room.

"Coffee would be nice," she answered faintly, faltering for a moment as she came into the room. Looking around herself, she swallowed thickly, before going to the couch that he had gestured to. "Black, please." He nodded and left the room for a moment, leaving her alone to examine her surroundings. Most of it was what she had anticipated when he had offered to hold the meeting at his house. It was filled with masculine looking leather furniture, a large screen television dominating one wall. And around her, mounted to the walls and on tables were various animals and animal heads. "Do you hunt?" she asked politely when he walked back into the room, two mugs of coffee in his hands.

He handed one over to her and looked around the room as well. "Yeah, it's a hobby of mine. When I get a chance to. Makes a man feel alive, makes him feel superior." He looked back down at her and grinned, taking an arm chair near her. "Do you?"

"Oh, no. I mean, I have. Before. Our dad took us out with him once, but I didn't really care for it. Too messy. I'd rather cook and eat the meat than go out and get it myself."

"Huh," he said, as if it were a statement. "It's how man began. Hunters and gatherers. It was survival."

She laughed weakly, looking away from him. "Thank God we've evolved since then. Otherwise, I'd be going hungry."

An uncomfortable silence fell between them as both man and woman sipped their coffee, his eyes on her the whole time, her trying to avoid looking at him. "You know, you don't look like brother and sister," he offered, watching as her head came up in surprise from where she was investigating the grain of his hardwood floor.

"Oh!" She sounded surprised. "We had different mothers, but for the most part, we were raised together. He's my half-brother," she said dumbly, before shaking her head, and mumbling, "But I guess you figured that out."

"What I'm not understanding is why you're here. You asked for this meeting, Lauren. Wanna tell me what it's about?"

She took a deep breath and leaned forward slightly. "I'm worried about him, sir. For one thing, I haven't heard from him in just about a year, which is odd for him. He used to call me every two weeks, no matter what was going on. I've tried to get in contact with him, but he doesn't answer his phone when I call, and he doesn't return any of my messages."

"You're worried about him," the man said matter-of-factly.

"Our dad passed away six months ago," she murmured.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

She offered him a tentative smile. "He never came to the funeral. He never came to help me clean out the house. He never came to the will reading. I know he's contacted Dad's lawyer, but if he came out, he did it after I was gone. He's been avoiding me, and for the life of me, I can't figure out why. He keeps up with all of his payments and everything, but he doesn't talk to me. And he doesn't look right."

"How so?"

"He's changed, sir. Maybe you didn't know him well enough a year and a bit ago, but he's changed. He's not the same. That's not my half brother that I see on my television every week. I don't know who that is, but he looks so frustrated, so tired. That's not him. My brother is the type of person that's always smiling, no matter what's happening, and I haven't seen him smile in ages. I know him," she said again, with a tone that left no room for argument.

The man nodded slowly. "He does seem different, doesn't he? You know, when I heard that your father had passed away, I offered him as much time as he needed to go back home and deal with his affairs. He declined the offer."

A look of hurt entered her eyes, and he mentally amended his previous statement of them looking nothing alike. They had the same eyes, and that was the same expression that he had seen in her brother's eyes before. They had eyes that one could read easily, as if they were open books with the print in clear view. "I didn't know."

"I can't make him take time off, Lauren. It doesn't work that way. I can offer it, but you have to realize, he's one of our better performers. It would be a big loss of money to take him off of television right now. I don't know what you want me to do."

She sagged back on the couch, looking down at the cup of coffee in her hands. "I understand, sir. I just...there has to be some way for me to get in contact with him, to figure out what's wrong. I don't know what happened to him, but he's not happy. Is there anyway that I could get backstage for awhile, maybe talk to him? I can take a semester off from school. That's not a problem."

The man looked at her, and the wheels began turning in his head. He could see so many opportunities with the young woman sitting in front of him, so many ways that he could use her to make things go his way, and he leaned back, considering them all. There was no doubt that some of the traits that her brother had, she also had. She wasn't as charismatic at him, no, but then there were few people that were. But there was a beauty and grace to her that could be exploited for the company. Exploited for him. "Now, Lauren, I'm sorry to tell you this, but that isn't the way it works. Oh, we have no problem with family coming to visit once in awhile, but for an extended time like that? There's just no way."

"I have to do something," she said passionately. "Please, you have to help me. Help us."

He paused, as if he were thinking about her situation, when he knew he had made up his mind all along. Oh, he had made up his mind as soon as she had called him, begging for a meeting. He had seen a picture of her before, one that her half-brother kept in his wallet, and although she was younger in the photograph, even then she could have been considered attractive.

He supposed that the brother and sister together would make a striking pair. He had those all American good looks, tanned and fit, and a face that caused women to scream for him. The sister, on the other hand, was darker skinned and brunette, with a body that looked like she enjoyed the occasional outdoor sport. Probably a golfer or tennis player, he figured, the type of girl that would go jogging in the mornings. She was in shape, but certainly not athletic looking. "Well, there is one thing that I could think of doing, but it would take longer than a semester. A year, actually."

"I...I don't understand," she said dully, finally meeting his eyes. She forced herself not to shiver at the coldness in them.

"I could offer you a year long contract, which would give you access to your brother any time that you wanted at the shows. But you would have to work for me. It's not always a fun job, Lauren. There's a lot of traveling and injuries and not much sleep...but I guess you know that, what with who your brother is. If you agree to this, I'll set you up with someone to give you a few quick training sessions. I don't anticipate you having to go out there and wrestling, but you'll need to know how to protect yourself. Especially if...well, I guess I really shouldn't go that far, since I don't know if you're gonna do this or not."

She shook her head. "No, please. Go on."

He nodded slowly. "Well, the way I see it, one way to ensure contact between you would be to make you your brother's manager or valet. You'd go out with him during his matches. But like I said, I'd want to make sure that you don't get hurt out there, so you'd need to know the basics. It won't be fun or easy, and it'll probably take a month or so, but then we could have you out there and you could be with your brother."

"Oh, I don't know," she said faintly. "I never wanted to be a wrestler. That's my brother's world, not mine. I've been in school for the past few years, studying to become a -"

"This is my only offer, Lauren. It's the only thing that I can think of doing."

Swallowing thickly, she turned away for a moment and found herself staring into the dull eyes of a deer head mounted on the wall. Her lips curled briefly before she looked away, no wanting to look at the dead thing. "I understand. I...I suppose that it would work, but I'd want to look over the contract," she murmured, chancing a look at the man.

He smiled brightly, and there was that overwhelming urge to shudder again. "Good. It'll take a week to get the lawyers to draw one up. That should give you enough time to go back home and get your affairs in order. Why don't I give you a call and fly you back out when it's all arranged? Then, you can sign and we'll get you into training. I know just the person to help you, too."

The sinking feeling she had wasn't as strong as the joy at the thought of seeing her brother again, and trying to reconnect with him. He could see it written plainly on her face, and he fought to keep his smile to himself.

Yeah, she could be used to his advantage. And when he was done with her...well, he really didn't care what happened after that.

A week and a half later, she was back in his house, in the same living room with the stuffed and mounted animals around her. She was better prepared that time around, and fought back against the revulsion over his choice of decor. "So, this is it?" she asked, flipping through the pages of the contract he had handed her.

"That's it. A contract good for one year, with an option to renew for another three, including a rising pay scale." He caught the look he gave her and offered her a smile that was somewhat innocent. "Standard language for a one year contract." She nodded absently and flipped back to the first page, beginning to read it slowly. "I promise you, there's no hidden clauses or anything that I can take advantage of."

"Uh huh," she replied, continuing to read.

The man was quiet until she got to the bottom of the first page, flipping it to the second and still reading. "You just have to sign it," he said a bit gruffly, before pushing a pen in her direction.

She looked up, and for a moment, annoyance flashed over her face. "I'm a law student, sir, and even if I wasn't, common knowledge is that you don't sign anything before reading it thoroughly. For instance, this says that you have complete control over my time while I'm an employee of yours. What exactly does that mean?"

He shrugged and leaned back, resisting the urge to snarl something hateful at her. He managed to control the urge, just barely, and instead, plastered a smile on his face. "It's simple. If you walk out with anyone, I say who you walk out with. If you have a match, I say whether or not you can have that match. If you want to dye your hair electric blue, it's well within my rights to say no, and you wouldn't be able to. Like I said, standard language for a contract for a new employee with the WWF."

She frowned slightly and looked at the pen sitting on the coffee table. "That's the problem. This doesn't say that I'm an employee of the World Wrestling Federation. This says that I'm your employee, under your guidance and control. Why is that?"

"Because if you wanted a contract with the WWF, you'd have to be a wrestler, and you'd have to show them that you know how to wrestle. You're not a wrestler, and my contract stipulates that I can hire my own employees and by extension, they work for the WWF. Your brother is under a similar contract with me."

"Half brother," she correctly absently, going back to the contract.

"Look, you came to me, Lauren. Your half brother won't talk to you on his time off, and you want to get in contact with him while he's working. I'm trying to give you that access, give you that chance, but you should know that this is the only contract that I'm going to be offering you. Either you sign your name to it and take it, or you walk away. You will lose your only chance if you don't sign this contract. So what does it really matter what it says? Yes or no, Lauren. Either sign the damned thing or walk out the door right now."

She sat back and looked at the pen again, weighing her options. She knew he was right, and that's what she hated more than anything. This was her only chance to get at her brother. If only once, just once, he had called her back or actually picked up the phone when she had tried calling, it never would have come to that. She never would have been sitting on that man's couch, with a contract sitting on her lap.

Against her better judgement, she flipped the contract over to the last page, seeing the spot that was waiting for her signature, a small post-it pointing to the right spot. She leaned forward and picked up the pen, rolling it between her fingers for a moment, before she looked back at the man, sitting on the edge of his chair, waiting for her to sign.

"Your only chance, kid," he said sternly.

She nodded and swallowed down the lump in her throat before clicking the pen and putting the point to the paper, scrawling her signature on the allotted line and then filling in the line for the date. She printed her full name on the space below that. Closing the contract, she laid it down on the table and put the pen on top of it, meeting his eyes.

"I'll have a copy sent to your address by the end of the week," he promised her, knowing that it was a promise he was going to break.

"Thank you," she said faintly.

She sat up on the ring apron, accepting the bottle of warm water as it was passed over to her. Making a face, she uncapped it and drank deeply. "Trust me, you don't want cold water after that," the young man told her, boosting himself up so that he could sit beside her. He adjusted his ponytail and took the bottle when she handed it back.

"I know," she gasped, pushing her own sweaty hair out of her face. "When I jog, I usually keep a bottle out on the counter for when I get back. I just don't like it."

He laughed, a bit breathlessly, but not as bad as she was, and recapped the bottle, putting it down beside him. "You're doing great, Lauren. I'd say you're ready."

She wrinkled her nose, sagging back against the bottom rope. "I can barely do a suplex. At least I know how to punch and kick. And hey, I have nails," she joked, flashing her hand at him. He smiled when he saw how broken and ragged they looked from the work they had been putting in recently.

"I weigh over a hundred pounds more than you. I'm not surprised that you can barely get me off the ground. Besides, you're not supposed to be a wrestler. I'm just trying to keep you from getting hurt if you get knocked around out there."

"How to fall on your ass safely, 101. You know, they didn't cover that at my school. Does that mean I should start calling your Professor Christian?"

He chuckled and slid off the edge of the ring, before offering her a hand. She jumped down next to him, groaning at the pull of her muscles. "C'mon. The sooner you hit the showers, the sooner we can go get something to eat. I'm starving."

"Fine, but it's on me," she said, pushing him slightly with her hip. They walked side by side down to the locker rooms, pausing for a moment. "Thanks, Christian. I definitely couldn't have done this without you. I really do appreciate it."

He smiled, although there was a bit of puzzlement to it. "Yeah, I just wonder if your brother is going to. Knowing my luck as of late, he's probably gonna try to kick my ass. From what I've heard about you, the little that he's talked about you recently, I don't think he wanted you in the world. He said you were in law school, had a couple of years to go before you graduate."

"Taking a year off won't put me that far behind. People start a lot later than I did. I started right out of high school, with pre-law. I actually have a bit of a leg up on most." She shook her head. "What do you mean, what little he talks about me?"

He shrugged. "Well, awhile back, he talked about you a lot. I mean, a lot. Almost every day, he'd mention you. It got to the point where we'd want to throttle him, and there were a few rumours that you were just a figment of his imagination, since no one had ever met you. He was constantly talking about you being in school and how proud he was that you were doing so well."

"Proud? He's never once told me that he was proud of me."

"Doesn't mean he wasn't," Christian said with another shrug. "You're his little sister. I don't think there's anything out there that he loves more than you, but awhile ago, it just changed. Now, he barely mentions you, and when I asked him, he said that he didn't even know what you were up to. I just thought that you guys had a falling out. I mean, siblings fighting is something that I can understand."

"Yeah," she said softly, thinking about what he had told her about himself and his own brother. "It wasn't anything like that, though. I'm not sure what happened. But that's why I'm here, to find out."

He pushed himself off of the wall and stood in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. "Look, I know that you don't really know me, and we haven't been around each other all that much, but I consider you to be a friend. Not to mention, you're the little sister of one of my friends. I just...I'm worried that he's not going to take this well, and you're going to suffer because of it." He paused and cocked his head to the side, as she looked up at him with wide eyes. "Why don't you travel with me, at least for the first week? I'll have my hotel reservation changed to a double room. It's just...you know. A safety net."

With a smile on her face, she reached up and patted one of his hands. "That sounds like a good idea, Christian, thanks. I don't know what I'd have done without you."

He grinned and let go of her, pushing open the door to the men's locker room. "Fall on your butt a little less safely, probably. Now go, shower, get changed. I'm really really hungry."

She sketched a quick salute as she pushed open the door to the women's locker room. "Sir, yes, sir."

The crowd was their indicator. If they weren't into the match, there would be a silence that could be louder than the cheers and yells. They would ramp it up in the ring when that loud silence came around. First and foremost, they were entertainers, but they were also fighting each other for the biggest prizes in the industry. No matter how flashy and exciting they would get, they were still brutal, pushing their own bodies and their opponents bodies to the very limit. The crowd responded accordingly. They cheered for the good guys and booed the bad guys, and they reacted to the unexpected.

He gasped for breath as he sat in the corner of the ring, one arm draped over the ring ropes to break up any sort of count or submission move that his opponent could come at him with. His ring awareness was just one thing that made him so damned good at his job. Another was his ability to read the audience. Only this time, he didn't have to read them. They were like an open book.

When the boos and jeering started, he wasn't sure why. He was the bad guy, according to the fans, and he had barely twitched a finger, let alone moved against his opponent. Which could only mean that someone had come out there, with the idea of helping him win, which was something that he couldn't particularly believe. There was only one person in the back that he associated with by choice, and he knew that Christian had a match of his own soon after his was done. There was no way the man would risk getting hurt before his own match.

Groaning, he forced his head back down and opened his eyes, looking blearily towards the ramp. He cursed and blinked, feeling the sweat drip into his eyes and irritate them further than normal. Damn not being able to wear his glasses in the ring; he hated his contact lenses. His vision cleared and he found himself gaping at the sight on top of the ramp.

He knew that it was impossible for her to be there, and yet there she was, standing at the top of the ramp with a hesitant smile on her face. Because he recognized that particular shade of light brown skin that he always called coffee with a wallop of cream, if only because she would make that annoyed face he knew too well and screech that the right word was dollop, damn it. Because he recognized that brown hair that stuck out like a sore thumb in the family of blond-haired people. Because he recognized that damned leather jacket that he had bought her years ago.

And he looked beside her, to see the smirking large man beside her, dressed in his usual tee shirt and long denim shorts. For a moment, he thought that his heart stopped beating, that he stopped breathing, that everything just became freeze frame as he stared at the two of them, unable to believe his own eyes. And then the world came back to life, and he found himself rolling out of the ring, ignoring the referee that shouted he was going to start the ten count if he didn't get his ass back between the ropes immediately. The shouted count barely registered in his head as his expression changed, became stony. He glared at the man, not wanting to show just how much the sight of them standing there together was affecting him.

The thought of him standing next to his sister, holding onto her arm loosely...he fought back against the snarl that felt like ripping its way through his chest and started towards the ramp, his eyes fiery. The count was up to six at that point, and he didn't give a shit. All he could think about was getting him away from her. His footfalls were heavy on the metal ramp, and he walked with a purpose, anger radiating from every part of him.

The crowd continued to boo, yelling at him, calling him a coward, a pussy, a loser, and he didn't care. He just couldn't care. They didn't know that standing on the ramp there, standing there with that bit of a smile and that uncertain expression, was the most important thing in his life. He made his way to the top of the ramp and cold eyes met equally cold eyes as he reached out and grabbed his sister's wrist, pulling her forward and to his side, forcing the other man to let go of her.

The bell rang. The crowd booed. The announcer's voice over the speakers declared his opponent the winner by an out of the ring count out. The man in the ring looked confused but shrugged as the referee raised his hand.

And Chris Jericho stared down Stone Cold Steve Austin, the growl finally erupting from him, before he pulled his sister with him backstage.