Title: Comparisons (1/?)

Rating: M for sexual situations, dark scenes of forced sexual contact, domestic abuse

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue

Summary: Lisa has a difficult time balancing a tough relationship with friendships and a career in the WWE. She tries her best to tough things out, but at what cost?

Propping up the bar was starting to become quite the habit. It wasn't a dislikeable habit, she had decided, and therefore she did not entirely question how the habit had come about, or indeed the reasons behind it. She accepted it, as it was: two friends having a few beers and putting the world to rights. It had started off as a Friday night tradition in Tampa – as much as wrestlers complained about never being home, when they were they got bored so easily, meeting up for a few drinks seemed like a good idea.

It was fun to let loose and relax, and despite a rocky start, she'd really clicked with him. Despite his stoic and hard demeanour on screen, he had a wicked sense of humour and would speak enthusiastically about sports, culture, music or the price of milk. She found herself very relaxed around him, which was a far cry from how she usually felt. Dating a perfectionist was difficult, and she felt constantly on edge around her boyfriend. She'd started drawing comparisons, and that was a dangerous road to travel.

She wasn't entirely sure that she could call him "her boyfriend" any more anyway. There had been a blazing row last week when he'd phoned her and she hadn't answered. By the time she'd got back to their hotel room his ire had exploded into anger, and... well, she had seen a side of him she never wanted to see again. She'd stormed out and hadn't seen him since. She wished she could care, but figured that was a message from her heart as much as anything that the relationship was going nowhere. She just needed to tell him it was over. That would no doubt be fun and games.

"Penny for your thoughts," he smiled and signalled to the bartender for another two beers. "You're distracted, I could have just slagged off the whole Liverpool team and you would have just grinned and nodded."

"Sorry," Lisa blushed and bit her lip, "I don't mean to be shitty company. And you even say one word against Stevie G and I will kick your ass."

"Go on then, tell me what that Scottish idiot's done now," Wade Barrett and Drew McIntyre had never particularly seen eye to eye, and that dislike had grown throughout their respective careers. However, it hadn't a genius to work out the root cause of her ire and discomfort.

Lisa rolled her eyes, "you know when I was out with Eve last Monday? Well he was phoning me, and obviously I didn't answer, he wasn't happy and it all blew up from there. I'm gonna end it."

"Really?"

She'd talked about finishing the relationship before, but had never done anything about it, so she could understand his scepticism.

"I've had enough."

He studied her carefully; she was holding something back, he knew it. There had been something about her these last few days, a detachment, and it unnerved him. She liked her secrets, and kept them well, the most he'd ever been able to tell was that she had a secret: she'd only reveal when she was ready. It was a habit that had got her into trouble a few times, but she found it hard to let her guard down and he knew better than to try to force the issue.

Relationships were not an unknown territory for conversation between them. They'd kept their companionship friendly, on a surface level, but he'd never hidden his physical attraction to her, and to her credit she'd never used that, or held it against him. She'd smiled, said she was flattered, and if the situation were different she might have given a different answer, and they'd left it at that. He knew she was with someone, and she knew he was no monk on the road. You took happiness where you could find it in their job and she would never criticise someone for that. She'd, at times, shared the difficulties of keeping a relationship going on the road; he, at times, had shared his wish for company. Their friendship allowed them these discussions without any ulterior motive.

"I take it he doesn't know yet."

"Nope, I'm gonna break the good news before the show tomorrow."

"Think that's a good idea?"

"Nope, but that's the only time I'm going to be face to face with him before we drive out to the next show, so I figured it would work to put some space between us, otherwise I'd end up driving with him and that would be painful as fuck, he'd probably kick me out in the arse end of nowhere and leave me stranded." She shrugged and took a deep breath, "despite how crap things have been between us, I don't think it's going to be pretty."

He shook his head, "probably not. Who're you travelling with?"

"I'll probably just spring for a car on my own, it's only a two hour drive I think."

"You can travel with Justin and me if you want, Heath's ditched us for the 'three man band'," they both laughed, "and at least we'll be there if idiot boy tries anything stupid."

"You're sure?" Wade nodded, so she signalled her agreement with a clink of their respective glasses, "thanks. Not that I think he'd do anything, but I will definitely need cheering up. Think you two will be up for a few drinks in the hotel bar when we get in?"

"I'm sure we can manage that. We'll come and find you after the show then?"

"Cool. Just don't let Justin near the music selection, right? Otherwise I'll be throwing myself out of the window."

"We need to talk." She nodded towards the locker rooms and followed as he started walking. For once, she couldn't read the look on his face and that worried her slightly. She rationalised that he probably knew what was coming, and hoped that might make things a bit easier.

When they were alone she cut straight to the chase. "It's over, Drew. "

"What?" He looked almost shocked for a second, as if he was expecting her to apologise for what had happened a few days before.

"You and me, it isn't working. You're too controlling, we do nothing but argue, we're making each other unhappy."

"You don't make me unhappy babe," Drew stroked his fingers across her cheek, "we're good together, you don't want to give up on us just yet."

"You don't trust me, we argue all the time and I'm fed up of it. Did you not wonder why I haven't spoken to you all week?"

"You missed me, I know you did. You missed my body. You missed the way I can make you lose control. You don't want this to be over."

"Yes I do, you're not listening to me, it's over."

The hand that shot out to push her against the wall and fingers that squeezed around her throat were unexpected. "I say when it's over, not you."

She coughed as his fingers tightened. This was not going as she expected it to. "Fuck you, Andrew," she spat, searching for an escape.

"You always did like me fucking you, Lisa. What changed, you getting cock from somewhere else now? Little whores like you always open their legs easily, you did for me after all."

"Bastard," she saw red, raising her knee to hit him right in the groin. He loosened his grip enough for her to pull away and aim another kick to his knee, sending him to the floor.

"It's over. Fuck off out of my life."

He looked up at her with eyes as cold as ice, "you'll regret this, bitch."

"I doubt it." She walked off, head held high, heart pounding and, if she was perfectly honest with herself, a tiny sliver of fear taking residence. She knew he would be vicious. He bore a grudge in fine fashion, wearing it as a badge of dishonour. With a rueful smile she realised that ending the relationship was probably the easy bit.

By the time she got to the women's locker room she was shaking slightly, but she grabbed her headphones and turned the music up loud, which calmed her down somewhat. She focused herself carefully on the match ahead, wanting nothing more than to get it over and done with and to get the hell out of there.

Lisa took out her frustration and worry on her unfortunate opponent for the evening, Natalya, and the blonde ruefully asked her friend afterwards what the hell was wrong.

"Finished with Drew," Lisa shrugged, "sorry for taking it out on you, he's a dick."

"Yeah well next time remember I'm not him, ok?" Natalya was pissed off and to be honest, Lisa couldn't blame her.

"I am sorry."

"Yeah, yeah, we sparring tomorrow morning?" Fortunately she was one of the few divas who didn't hold a grudge.

"Definitely, I'll text you tomorrow." Lisa didn't think she could describe any of her female colleagues as 'friends', but Natalya was probably as close as it got.

Lisa quickly showered and changed, before texting Wade about where they should meet. She sat in the relative peace and quiet of the locker room, enjoying the silence while waiting for her ride to the next city. She knew Justin would have three hundred questions as she hadn't seen him in a while, and needed to prepare for the onslaught.

As her eyes drifted shut, Lisa allowed herself to relax. Big mistake. The next thing she knew was a familiar hand around her throat again, pushing her against the wall. She kicked out, but the effort was futile.

"Did you really think I'd just let you go without a fight?" He hissed, squeezing her throat hard enough to quell her movements. "Stupid, stupid girl. You don't get to fuck me around Lisa. You especially don't tell people you finished with me, understand?"

Gasping for breath, she couldn't speak, so just nodded, eyes wide in fear.

"Now Lisa, I'm just going to give you something to remember me by, is that ok?" He smirked and she immediately feared that she knew what he meant. She started to kick out at him again until he pushed on her windpipe, and her sense of self preservation kicked in. She stilled and turned her face away as he stroked the skin above the waistline of her jeans, flicking the button open and slipping the zip down. Never letting go of her throat, he gently touched her, his fingers pushing inside her underwear, pushing into her painfully. Tears formed in her eyes as she cringed at the touch, but as his thumb brushed against her clit she felt her body respond, and his chuckle as he felt her wetness chilled her to the bone.

"I knew you still wanted me," he whispered, continuing to massage her clit, his fingers stroking her from the inside. Despite everything, she felt her body betray her and her eyes slipped shut, tears leaking down her cheeks as she prayed for him to leave her alone. He wouldn't though, not until he had achieved his aim.

With each stroke he whispered words of hate in her ear, calling her a whore, a slag, a slut, telling her that her body told the true story and that she couldn't deny her true nature. As her body shuddered as he brought her to orgasm, he squeezed her throat tightly enough that she almost blacked out, but not before she heard his departing words.

"Your body doesn't lie, Lisa. Filthy whores like you get what they deserve."

She slid down the wall to the floor, tears flowing in earnest. Her whole body felt like it was shaking but her mind was clouded with fear and the words echoed around her head. She felt dirty; horrendously so, and as she regained control of her mind and body she almost ran into the shower, scrubbing herself until she felt a semblance of clean. On dressing, she checked her phone to find a message that Wade would be with her in about 20 minutes, so she straightened herself up lest he guess something was wrong.

Lisa tied her hair back, re-packed her bag and walked out of the locker room with as much confidence as she could muster. She waited near the men's locker room and in one way was incredibly grateful when she saw Justin.

"Hey baby girl," Justin pulled her into a hug and she tried not to stiffen at the touch, at least not noticeably. If Justin did notice, he didn't say anything, just smiled and grabbed her hand enthusiastically, "come on, Wade's gone to get the car, let's get the hell out of here."

Now that was a sentiment she could fully endorse and support.