Story name: Mo Cushle
Author: Fidelis5588
Author PG-13, I suppose, for death and cursing. There's. . .sexual situations. . .but I can't give it away. . .
Characters: Lita, Chris Benoit, Shawn Micheals, ect.
Summary: Lita loses someone she loves, and learns to live with it.
Disclaimer: The Undertaker, Shawn Micheals, Chris Benoit, Lita, and all other characters mentioned are copyright the WWE, not me. The song "Here without you." Is copyright to the band Three Doors Down, and the song "Who you'd be today" Is copyrighted to Kenny Chesney. I don't claim any of it, 'cept Lita's aunt Wilma, and Nora. Original Characters, those. I may wish 'Taker was mine, but he isn't, much to my displeasure.
Author's Notes: Okay, in this story, Lita took a different path than that of wrestling. I know, her real name is Amy. I don't care. The character is Lita, and not Amy Dumas. And Lita? I don't know why I chose her. I know Lita's done some things that most of us resent. . .but haven't we all? She is one of the only divas I really respect. I think she's a good person. I've actually never written a story with a Diva as the central character, and I thought why not give it a try? I wanted to do something different, and Lita just popped out. What might have made her so tough? Why is she so hard on the outside? What might she have been like if she never went into professional wrestling? Just my interpretation of what I think might have happened. . . I don't know what it is about Lita, but I have always liked her. Maybe it is because she can actually wrestle, and I sort of look to her as a model for what I want to be. I can't tell you for sure, I've just always liked Lita. I know her the best, I like her the most...I'm drawn to her and I don't know why.
Now this is not so much about Eddie as for him...but...you'll see at the end, I promise. The first part is a little dull, guys, just stick with me, okay? Usually, I try to cater for my audience when I write, but I didn't write this one for you guys. This is my way of honoring Eddie. Some people made banners, sites, tribute videos. This is mine..the product of my imagination, and hard work. It's all for you, Eddie. Enjoy ese. Viva la Raza!
The name is pronounced "Mo Cooshla" and it's Gaelic. Let the story begin. . .
Mo Cushle
"It's not fair, how you died so young. Only God knows how much I'm missing you. And I've been through hell and back, Just knowin' no-one could take your place. And sometimes I wonder, Who'd you be today?" A high, clear voice sounded over the solemn notes of the acoustic guitar as a girl who looked to be in her early twenties sang."Would you see the world? Would you chase your dreams? Settle down with your family, I wonder what would you name your babies? Some days the sky's so blue, I feel like I can talk to you, and...and...umm, bugger!" Her voice faltered and the song came to a premature end as she sharply strummed the strings in annoyance. Standing up from where she had been sitting on her bed, the brunette roughly set her instrument on the stand, and grumbled, moving about her room.
"Why can I never get that part right?" she growled, holding up one pair of pants and sniffing them. "Smells okay." she said, slipping out of her dirty jeans and into the new pair. She only had three pairs of pants, and her Aunt Wilma was busy patching the others, which left her with only two to wear. She caught a glimpse of the paper on her mat which had the lyrics to her song, and gave in to the temptation. Settling down one more time, she tried again, this time without her Guitar.
Pulling the tattered notebook into her lap, she pushed her rebellious, frizzy hair behind one ear and sat Indian style on the bed-spread, leaned over the words intently. "I wonder what would you name your babies? Some days the sky's so blue, I feel like I can talk to you and sometimes.. sometimes.." Once again, she stumbled over the verse, sighing when she heard her Aunts voice from downstairs. "Lita!" the voice called, "LITA! You're gonna be late for that WWF thing!
"Oh crap!" Lita said, scooting off the mat and rushing around her 'room' stuffing things into her backpack. She hadn't forgotten, that was why she had changed. But Lita thought she had more time than that. Snatching up her ticket, she ran out the door, only to turn around, and stuff the lyrics to her song into her backpack on impulse. Lita happened to glance at the clock. The show didn't start for three hours. What was her Aunt talking about? Frowning, she pounded down the hall way once more, but this time she stopped to look at the cracked mirror on the wall. Semi-clean blue jeans that had seen better days, a t-shirt that looked like a cow with all the stains it had, and the only thing she really admired about herself; her long locks of dish-water brown hair. They set off her chiseled face, and did a good job of hiding her clothes. She sighed. That was as good as it was gonna get. As soon as she made it big in the music business, she could afford some REAL possessions. And she WOULD, she would make it big. Just as soon as she worked out the kinks in her song. . .
"LITA!"
"Oh. Coming Aunt!" Lita said, adjusting her backpack and starting down the creaky old stairs, remembering just in time not to step on the third one, which would cave in if anyone stepped on it. She stumbled into the kitchen, managing to scramble out of the way just in time to avoid colliding with Angie, her Aunt's ratty-looking mutt. "Sorry Ang," she murmured to the lean brown dog as it skidded to some other region of the house, probably looking for something else to chew up.
Her Aunt turned around, a scowl on her face as she looked over her niece. She dusted off her hands on her floral-print dress that had seen better days. "I swear, that damned dog is getting on my last nerves."
"I know, Auntie," Lita replied, ducking her head as her aunt scowled at her. Her Aunt May was nice and all, taking her in and giving her a home when she had none, but the lady could be downright cruel at times, though she always hid it behind a to-sweet smile. It all depended on how things were going down at the laundro-mat. If Aunt had a bad day, the whole house felt her wrath. If she had a good day, everyone would sigh and hope the next day would be the same. Today, her Aunt seemed in a good mood, that was until, Lita asked for a favor."Auntie?" She asked quietly, hands clasped in front of her. When her aunt didn't answer, just turned back around to continue the dishes, she sighed and tried again, this time a little louder. "Aunt May?"
"Spit it out, child." Her Aunt said, barely turning her head from the sink.
Lita to a deep breath. She hoped her Aunt was in a good mood. "I'm ready to go."
"Then go." Her Aunt shot back dryly, as if asking why as HADN'T left yet.
"Aren't you going to give me a ride?" Lita asked after standing quietly for a second. What was her Aunt getting at? She'd said not a day before that she would drive her to the Arena.
"You. . ." Her Aunt began, swinging around and wielding a soapy wooden spoon threateningly. "You expect me to take time out of my day to give you a ride." She sneered, looking at Lita disgustedly.
"Well, I just thought-" Lita began, confused. Her Aunt had said she would take her!
"After I took you in, clothed you, gave you a place to live, all you can think about is yourself!" May yelled, losing it. Obviously, things at work hadn't gone well. She dropped the spoon, and turned around completely, putting her hands on her hips, glaring.
"I didn't-"
"Don't even start." Her Aunt sniffed at the young adult. "I don't want to hear it. You get there by yourself. You should have asked me earlier. You don't seem to understand anything. I swear, your parents raised you in a barn. So disrespectful."
Lita opened and closed her mouth in shock. Her Aunt's words stung like fire, as always. Not only was her Aunt dissing her, but she was insulted her parents. Lita's parents had loved her. They'd brought her up right. It wasn't their fault they didn't have enough money to pay off the house. She narrowed her eyes. Fine. She was tired of her Aunt's constant berating. "Yes Ma'am." she spat spitefully, turning smoothly on her heel and marching for the door. May, not used to being stood up by anyone, starting right after Lita.
"Just where do you think you are going?" She hissed, just as Lita opened the tattered screen door.
Lita whirled around, her backpack swinging. "You know where I'm going, you cranky bitch."
"Don't you ever..." Her Aunt began, rushing forward. She grabbed one of Lita's wrists and twisted it painfully, forcing the girl to lean down. "talk to me like that."
Lita, being younger and stronger than her aunt, pulled out of the hold quickly. "And don't you ever touch me like that." She stepped out of the doorway, and stood on the steps, watching in satisfaction as the door slammed shut in her stunned Aunt's face. Turning, she hopped down the steps lightly, looking as if to start off down the driveway. On an impulse, she turned around and yelled back at her Aunt. "Oh, and Auntie? It's WWE. Not WWF. Get it straight, you sagging hag." The shrieks of her enraged Aunt were music to her ears as she continued down the street, and away from her 'home'.
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"Larks and Mason, Larks and Mason.." Lita mumbled, look at the street signs in confusion. She looked down at the directions she had scribbled down on a crumbled napkin. Her brown eyes searched up and down again, and her face formed into a frown. Where was Larks and Mason? "Hung a right at Nana, went straight for a coupla miles, left at the Texaco station, 'nuther right. . ." She stopped to scratch her head. "How did I get here?" She looked down at the napkin in her hands again. It was wrinkled and the ink was smudged. Narrowing her eyes at it, she turned it upside down and held it up, rotating it from side to side slightly. "Maybe that was a right..."
Rubbing her bruised wrist, Lita held her fist out, thumb up. The universal sign of hitchhikers everywhere. Courtesy of her aunt, she had been forced to join the ranks of the individuals who caught rides to and from places with complete strangers. It made her uneasy. She had heard to many stories about how an innocent hitchhiker would be picked up by someone who looked trustworthy, and then end up raped, or even dead. She shivered, it was risky business. But she had paid money to go to this show. She wouldn't miss this chance to see some of her favorite wrestlers, not for the world. She would catch a ride with a convicted felon if it meant meeting even one of them. "Like Eddie." She sighed wistfully, her lips pulling into a smile. She stuck out her hand a little farther, walking down the busy road. She was never going to get anywhere just walking, especially if she was lost. Maybe someone kind enough to give her a ride would know the way. She spotted a green Volkswagen start to slow down, and the come to a stop. She jogged over, and the woman inside motioned for her to get in.
"Whatcha doin' here all alone, hun?" The woman asked. Lita's eyes widened as she got a good look at the lady. Her brown eyes were hidden behind big plastic glasses, nestled in cropped hair tucked under a bright green cap. She wore a great green trench coat at least three times the size of her frail frame. Lita caught herself just before she said something rude. The lady was dressed in an eccentric style, to say the least. But at least she was a lady. "Um, I'm trying to get to Southwest Oklahoma Arena. I'm going to see a wrestling show."
"Wrestling?" The lady laughed, pulling back out unto the road as Lita buckled her seatbelt. "I watched that when I was a child. I can take you as far as Mills."
"Thank you, Ma'am." Lita answered thankfully, remembering her manners.
The lady in green raised an eye brow and pushed down her oversized glasses. "You can call me Nora. I am NOT a MA'AM."She laughed, as if the thought was ridiculous, placing both hands on the top of the steering wheel. "I call my momma Ma'am. Ma'am's for old people."
"Oh, right. Sorry, Nora." Lita said, lighting up.
"There you go." Nora smiled kindly, keeping her eyes focused on the road. She reached and turned down the radio that was playing soft oldies. "Now tell me about yourself, dahlin."
Lita spent the next twenty minutes recounting a great deal of her life to a complete stranger. It was so unlike her, to just give out her secrets like they were nothing. But there was something abut Nora that Lita liked. A friendly mother figure that Lita had grown up without. By the end of her trip, she and Nora knew enough about each other to be mistaken for good friends. As she had said, Nora dropped Lita off at Mills avenue, only ten miles from the Arena.
Lita saw Nora grab a piece of paper from her glove compartment and quickly scribble something down on it with a pink pen. "Lita dahlin, I want you to take this." Nora said, handing Lita a piece of flower-printed paper as the young girl hopped out of the small car.
"Thanks, Nora," Lita said, shouldering her backpack and looking down at the paper.
"Call me if you need anything, good luck, dahlin." Nora said, and with a wave, drove off to the east.
"Bye, Nora." Lita said softly, sad at losing her new friend. After looking at the green bug as it disappeared into the horizon, she looked back down at the paper, written on it was this:
iLita,
You're a nice girl. I'd like to help you, if you ever need anything, call me.
Nora Finagin /I
Below that was written an address and phone number. "I guess there still are nice people in this town." Lita grinned, pocketing the paper carefully. "Alright, ten miles." Lita pulled herself back from her little vacation of thought, forcing herself to think about the problem before her. "Walking that still won't cut it. I need to find another car." Walking down the road, she stuck her thumb out once again, this time with a little more gusto, having been encouraged by her encounter with Nora. -------------------------------------------------
Half and hour and two car rides later, Lita found herself standing in front of the Arena. Standing with her legs slightly apart, she crossed her arms and smirked, looking up at the towering building. Finally, she had made it. Granted, it had been some trip, but she had made it. She glanced at her watch. Not a moment to soon either. The show was about to start. Skipping up the steps, she ran through the building as quickly as she could, impatiently waiting in the security lines as stone-faced guards sifted through her backpack. She twitched uncomfortably, snatching her bag and dashing away as quickly as possible. Lita did not like strangers going through her things, heck, she hardly even let her Aunt go through her things. Usually, she was very easy going and accommodating, except when it came to her things. There was a streak of possessiveness in her that ran strong through her veins when someone touched something that belonged to her. Sticking her tongue out at the guards' backs, playfully, she pounded through the arena, glancing down at her ticket and then back up at signs placed randomly about, looking for her section.
"104, 103, hah! There is, section 102." She quickly flew down the corridor, picking her way down the stairs and finally, came to her seat. She sat down with a satisfied plop, grinning like a Cheshire cat. She'd made it! It'd been difficult, uncomfortable, at times, but she was actually going to see the superstars of SmackDown perform live. What excited her most. . .she would be able to see Eddie Guerrero! In person. Her very favorite wrestler of all time was in this very arena, probably in a dressing room somewhere right now. She was in the same building as her hero! Lita's heart started pounding just thinking about the Latino. She let out a giddy squeal of delight then clapped her hands over her mouth sheepishly, glancing around. She didn't receive weird looks from other people in the crowd, like she expected. Instead, she got glares. Truly mean, angry glares. Suddenly she came to herself again, back from her little fantasy cruise. Finally, she took the time to peer at the people sitting near to her. They were all somber-faced and sullen..some even had tears in their eyes. She thought maybe it was just her group, and straightened up in her seat, craning her neck to look at more people farther away. It wasn't just the people next to her then.
Biting her lip, she slumped in her seat and stuck a lock of hair in her mouth, chewing on it in agitation. i'Why are they acting like this?' /I She thought, i'Why is everyone so sad? It's not supposed to be like this. Am I the last girl on earth who doesn't know what happened? It's like someone died...'/I At this ponderance, she tried to stop thinking. She knew her own mind. She knew she would fabricate some ridiculous scenario and be worrying about it through the entire show, and regret it later because she would have been distracted. But she couldn't...the excitement from being at the show gave her almost a natural high, and her brain turned on her, using it to come of with frightening thoughts. i'What if someone IS dead? What if it's a wrestler? Vince? Shane? Could it be one of them? Is someone really sick? What if it's Eddie? Dear god, don't let it be Eddie.' /I She worried herself into a sick state, and turned to the person sitting next to her just as the lights went out, signaling the beginning of the show.
"What happened, did someone die?" She asked in a shaky tone, sort of laughing trying to shake off the feelings of dread she was having.
The young man looked at her like she was joking. "You don't know? How could you not. That's a sick joke, lady." He glared at her and shifted in his seat, thus ending the conversation.
"Oh, God." Lita whispered wringing her hands is disbelief. Someone HAD died then. Who the hell was it? She was going to go ballistic if she did not find out soon-The voice of the long-time owner of the WWE stopped her. Even the worry of someone dying couldn't overcome the tiny spark of joy at seeing him walking out to stand in the ring, mic in hand.
"Everyone, everyone, quiet down please." Vince said as he stood in the ring.
Lita frowned. He sounded shaken, and what was he talking about? It was silent in the arena. . . dead silent.
"I'm afraid I have some bad news. . .I think most of you already know." Vince's voice sounded different somehow. It was because he wasn't in character, wasn't acting. He knew when to use something in an angle and when not to, and this was one of those times where you just didn't. Lita stomach turned. It was really true, something had happened.
"One of our superstars was found a few days ago in his hotel room, and he'd. . .I'm afraid he'd passed away."
Lita was about to have a aneurism by this point. Why didn't he just come out and say it instead of beating 'round the bush?
"I'm sorry to say, that we have lost a great man. Eddie Guerrero will forever be remembered in the hearts of fans and workers alike. . .he was a different breed. He ate this business, drank this business, breathed this business."
Lita sat in shock, tears streaming down her face in waves. "Eddie. . ." she choked out harshly, "Oh my God, Eddie." She balled her hand into a fist and stuck it up to her mouth, biting on her knuckles and squinting her eyes.
By now, an entire legion of WWE workers from both RAW and SmackDown had appeared on the stage, in front of the titantrons. There they stood, row upon row of them. At one point, Lita would have been having the time of her life, picking out of the crowd the familiar faces of men like Kurt Angle, Matt Hardy, Batista, Chris Benoit, and Chavo... Oh, she felt for Chavo. But now, it was all spoiled. She couldn't enjoy it, knowing why they were there. It was plainly apparent, from the tears streaming down their faces. This was no storyline, Eddie was gone.
"Eddie Guerrero-" Vince said, even the callous old leader of the WWE began to choke up. "Eddie Guerrero bled this business. He was a legend, a superstar, a husband, a friend and a father. And I'll be damned if anyone can say anything against the fact that this world is the worse off without him."
The lights dimmed, and the Titan trons flickered to life. Lita looked up through bleary eyes as the beginning chords of "Here without You" softly filled the arena. A tribute video. It was a tribute video. She sank deeper and deeper into grief with each clip of Eddie's greatest moments, sinking lower and lower in her seat. By the time the lights lifted and the video ended, she was sobbing uncontrollably. And it wasn't just her. It was the entire arena. Everyone, men, women, children, even the wrestlers on the stage were crying. She could hear the sobs and moans echoing through the arena without even trying. It was the sight of Chavo, Rey Mysterio, and Batista all embracing each other while crying that sent her over the edge. She couldn't take it. Crying harder than she could ever remember before, she stood up from her seat, slowly picking her way through the crowded aisle. She tried to avoid looking into the eyes of those she passed, because each and everyone was filled with tears, and held a deadness that reflected her own soul at that moment. She started to pick up speed, crying harder and harder. She started walking up the stairs, by the time she got to the top she was trotting. Lita jogged through the hallways, and by the time she raced out of the door, she was running full speed, half-blinded by her tears.
There were several yards worth of steps leading down from the building, and Lita caught her foot on the fifth one, losing her balance and tumbling down the stairs. She was bounced and slammed against the stone, finally landing with a crack on the ground, splayed out on her belly. She had skinned her knees and torn open a healing cut on her forehead. And he ankle..She bit her lip as she felt her ankle. It was definitely hurt. Already it had swelled up, and she had a hard time moving it. It probably would have hurt a lot, if she could feel. But she couldn't. Even the worst pain in the world couldn't pull her from her grief right now. Because, well, she iwas/I feeling the worst pain in the world. She had lost Eddie. The first wrestler she had ever seen. The first wrestler she had ever connected with...the wrestler she loved most.
Not even trying to stand, Lita dragged herself by her hands and knees to a dark corner at the foot of the stars, mostly hidden from view. She stayed there, curled up in a small ball, just crying her eyes out. She lost track of how long she was there, but she could feel the temperature drop, and then the show must have let out, because she could here thousands of feet dragging, people conversing quietly. It wasn't at all like a normal night on the SmackDown set. Usually, the fans would hang around for hours after the show let out to catch the wrestlers leaving, and the air would be filled with high-pitched chatter and a hum of excitement. Not today. Today, most everyone left silently, each mourning in their own way. Lita knew she needed to get up, to find a ride home with one of the fans. But she just didn't have the heart anymore. She just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. She couldn't think . . .couldn't breath. Lita cried until she didn't think she had anything left-and then she cried some more.
Eventually, she fell asleep, physically and mentally exhausted. It was a dark, tormented sleep, where here dreams were black and foreboding, but at least it wasn't real. She tossed and muttered under her breath, shivering against the cold. Suddenly, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She opened her eyes wide, using her hands to scramble up the steps in an effort to stand. However, she forgot about her ankle, and landed hard on her rear. "What do you want?" She said, rubbing her red eyes and stuffy nose.
Above her were two men, of average build and height. She guessed them to be about eighteen, maybe nineteen. They both had on faded eyeliner, and baggy clothes. Not thug-like baggy, just ill-fitting, as if they were hand-me-downs. One had a bad case of acne and had shaggy brown hair grown down around his ears. The other had intense blue eyes and dark brown hair styled in a crew-cut. Lita instantly felt uncomfortable in this situation, and looked around for a way out. Nothing. She'd never make it up the stairs, and she didn't seen anyone in the parking lot, even though there were a few cars still there. They leered down at her, "Just wonderin' what a pretty babe like you is doin' out here all alone...you look kinda sad baby." One said, smirking. The other joined in. "Yeah, you need some comfortin', hun?"
Lita struggled to back away, but like before, she was all alone with no where to run. "No. I'm fine. I'm just waiting for...waiting for my boyfriend to come pick me up." She bit her lip and looked up at the two men, and knew she had gotten herself in trouble. Hopefully they would believe her weak lie, but it was just that...weak.
"Well, seeing as he's not here yet, guess we can take care of his duties for a while, eh buddy?" Said the blue-eyed one, licking his lips. "Don't see why we shouldn't help out the poor girl." Winked the other one evilly. He knelt down and ran his thumb over the cut on Lita's face, then over her lips. She went to jerk away, but he suddenly leaned forward and threw a restraining hand around the back of her neck, capturing her mouth in an intense kiss. She screamed and jerked against him, finally pushing him away. "Get the hell away from me you perverts!" She screamed, trying to stand and this time succeeding, though she had to place one hand on the wall for support. "I swear to God, you come any closer and I'll deck you." Lita said, and she meant it. She waved her left fist emphatically.
"Oh, she's a feisty one." Acne-boy said, laughing. Lunging forward he grabbed her left wrist and squeezed, hard, suddenly turning mean. "You hold still, you understand? Or else there'll be trouble. We don't want any trouble, now do we?" He reached down into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a switch-blade. She glared at him, thinking he was just trying to scare her, and yanked at her wrist, trying to pull away. Acne-boy pulled her against him tightly and flicked the knife open. "What, you don't think I'm serious, baby?" In one quick motion, he ran the knife down her torso, cutting straight through her shirt and cutting into her chest. Lita gasped from the pain, trying to cover herself with her free arm. The guy with the crew-cut came around behind her, pressing his body against hers and nonchalantly slipping out his own knife, flipping it open. "Now why would you want to hide somethin' so pretty," He hissed, snaking the blade down the length of her arm, making a thin line of blood. "We didn't want to hurt you."
Lita's chocolate-brown eyes filled with tears for the second time that night. She locked her gaze with the man behind her, narrowing her eyes. She had thought this would happen hitch-hiking, not after the show. "You-" She stopped her insult when she felt something tugging on her pants. Jerking her head around, she looked down to see the guy with the longer hair fiddling with her jeans, trying to unbutton them. Panic filled her. She had to get away. "Wrong move, buster." She snarled, bringing her knee up and catching him in the crotch.
"Oh shit," He groaned, dropping to his knees in pain.
"You little bitch," The one behind her exclaimed, taking a step back. Grabbing her shoulders, he forcefully yanked her around and viciously slapper her across the face, leaving a huge red mark. Again, the pain took her breath away.
"Leave me alone, you demented bastard." She hissed, inching backwards, thinking this was her chance to escape. But her bad ankle gave way beneath her, and she tripped, crumpling down to the floor.
By now, the guy she had kneed was up, and both me had an evil look in their eyes. This time, the weren't out to have fun. They were out to hurt her, badly. "You shoulda just laid down and took it, little girl." They threatened together. Then they both jumped on her at once, kicking her in the face, the ribs, the kidneys. Finally, she got some sense knocked into her. "Help! Help me!" she screamed.
"Somebody please help me!" She curled up into a ball, trying to tune the vicious kicks out while listening for some one. No one. There was nothing. "SOMEBODY HELP ME, DAMMIT!" She screamed shrilly, panicking as her vision started to fade. Still, no one.
Lita could feel her body weakening, feel it starting to prepare to pass out. This time, all she did was scream, scream in her high-pitched voice as long and as loud as she could. Just like that, she heard shouts. And she thought her attackers stopped, but she couldn't be sure. It hurt so bad, they might have still been beating on her. Again, she felt hands on her shoulders, but she couldn't see. "Let me go! Let me go!" She blasted, trying to power out of whoever was touching her. She felt the hands lift, and then she stopped. Maybe...maybe they were gone. She should get up..i'No, I think I'll just rest here a little bit, 'till it stops hurting.'/I She only meant to rest for a moment or two, but instead, she passed out, completely spent.
Lita woke up in a beige colored room, confused. She waited a few minutes before she opened her eyes, dealing with the pain. Her chest hurt, her ribs hurt, her arms hurt, and she had a headache like an icepick was stuck in her scull. Moaning quietly, she opened first one eye, then the other. Everything was blurry at first, all she saw were large, colored shapes. "W-Where am I?" She asked, slurring her words a little.
"In the arena." A familiar voice answered her. It was rough, but soft and soothing.
She blinked at the shape above her. "I know yoou. . ." she said, sounding like a drunken lady. The shape came into view. Lightly muscled arms, a defined jaw and long smooth hair. "Shawn Micheals." Lita lifted her head and looked around at the other shapes that rapidly became clear. "So many beautiful men." She looked back up at The HeartBreak Kid. "Am I in heaven, Shawnie?"
A little chorus of laughs sounded from the others in the room, not as loud or as boisterous as it should have been, because everyone was still mourning Eddie.
"Far from it, angel." Shawn chuckled lightly. Dave Batista came to stand at her head, next to Shawn. "Go back to sleep, eh?" He asked, smiling.
Lita smiled in contentment, her brain not all there. "What ever you say, Bunny." She resigned herself back to the sleep that had been pulling at her mind, leaving Dave with a confused look on her face. "Since when am I a rabbit?"
Shawn ignored them and tapped Lita on the cheek, catching her right before she drifted back to sleep. "What's your name?"
"Lita..." she moaned, falling asleep right after she said it.
"They do call you the 'Animal', Dave." Hunter pointed out, "Maybe you're a cute widdle bunny rabbit type-animal."
"Aw shut up, Hunter." Batista growled, embarrassed.
Shawn smiled at the two men. "I'll call you when she wakes up, guys."
"Okay, Shawnie." Hunter snickered, not being able to resist.
Shawn crossed his arms and pointed to the door, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, yeah, we're gone." Hunter responded, he and Batista shuffling out of the room with the rest of the guys.
Shawn pulled up a chair and sat down, taking his Bible back into his lap, from where he it under another chair. He started reading, looking up to glance at Lita every time she moaned or moved.
Lita finally woke up for good about two hours later, this time with all her senses. "Oh, God, my head hurts." Was the first thing she said as she awoke. Moaning she opened her eyes to look about. Where was she? Someone said the arena, didn't they? Wait. Hadn't she seen Shawn here? No, maybe that was a dream. Shawn Micheals? Hah, that was definitely a dream. Had to be. . .right? Confused, she looked behind her, propping herself up on her elbow. There was Shawn, asleep with his Bible in his lap. "Ain't that the cutest thing I've ever seen." She said, loud enough to wake him up.
He roused easily, having only been asleep for a few minutes. "Oh, good, you're awake." He said, standing up. Shawn walked over to stand by the side of her...well, it wasn't a bed, she realised. It was far to hard to be a bed. Trying to get her bearings, she looked down and saw that she was laying on some sort of table... Confused, she looked up at Shawn for help.
"Mr. Micheals, where am I?"
"In the Trainers room. We brought you here to get your injuries treated, little miss."
"Oh. . ." Lita said, suddenly getting shy.
"Why are you being so formal now? A few hours ago you were telling us all how beautiful we were, and calling me Shawnie. And you called Dave...Bunny, was it?" Shawn laughed, frowning in confusion. "Where did you get Bunny from?"
"Oh my God...I called Batista that? I'll never be able to look at him again." Lita sighed, reddening. "It's short for Cuddly Little Bunny.
It's a. . . pet name." Lita couldn't look at Shawn, so she looked down instead.
"He was pretty embarrassed. Triple-H wouldn't leave him alone about it."
"Trips?" Lita questioned, figuring she couldn't be any more embarrassed as it was. "Wow, how many guys heard me ranting?"
"Oh, a lot of them." Shawn said like it wasn't a big thing. "When Chris brought you in, they were worried about you."
"Chris?" Lita would have been tickled pink at the thought of the boys being worried over her, if she didn't have other things to worry about, which she did. "Chris Benoit?"
"Yeah, just brought you in, said you needed help."
Lita fell silent for a moment, Chris's name somehow triggering a memory switch in her mind. Suddenly, the entire day came back to her, except for when she had blacked out after being beaten. Not that she cared about that. All she could remember, was what had happened to Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. His name echoed in her mind like a drum, and her face grew grim.
"Well," Shawn said, changing the subject. "I'd better go tell them to phone the police. We called them earlier but they were swamped, said to call them back when you were in your right mind." He started to move, but Lita shot out a hand and stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"No. No, you can't." She said, half-getting up. She grunted in pain at the sudden movement, but still looked pleadingly into his eyes.
"You can't call them, I don't want to go through all that. Just...just leave it be. I'm fine. Right? I'm awake, I can move. I just need time to heal."
HBK stopped, pursing his lips and looking down at her. "Now why wouldn't you want me to call them?" He asked suspiciously.
"I'm not a criminal, if that's what you're thinking, Shawn." Lita replied irritably. "I just..I don't like them. They've never done anything for me except cause problems. I'm fine. Just a scratch." To prove her point, Lita sat up, swaying and in pain, but she sat up.
"Oh, sure you're fine. You've got a slight concussion, knife wounds, and bruised ribs. Not to mention a badly twisted ankle." He nodded his head like he believed her tough-guy act. "Yeah, you're real fine." He frowned at Lita, but she gave him a pleading look, and he crossed his arms and sighed. "Fine. Whatever you say kid. Just rest, okay?"
Lita nodded her head furiously. "I will, I will Shawnie -er, Shawn. You don't know how much this means to me. Thank you so much."
Shawn smiled warmly at her. "Hey, Lita, I told the boys I would go tell them when you woke up. I'll be right back, okay?"
"Sure Shawn. . .thanks." Lita said.
Shawn walked out, closing the door softly behind him. Lita took the opportunity to take a look around the room. She saw bags packed with braces of different sizes, gauze, tape and antibiotic cream. So this was where the Trainers for the wrestlers were. She looked down at herself. She saw an oversized T-shirt on her, and remembered that those punks had cut clean through hers. Under it she could feel the wound, pulsing. On her ankle, was a big blue and gray brace. The rest of her cuts had been dressed and cared for she saw, with skill. "They know how to treat wounds, guess." She mumbled to herself, boredly. Then, she spotted her backpack sitting on the end of the table. Filled with the desire to check and see if the lyrics to her song had made it through, she furrowed her brow and determinedly scooted closer, reaching out an just managing to snag the worn bag. Quickly, she rifled through her belongings, but she couldn't find the papers. Fear filled her as she started dumping things out, looking for her song. "Where is it? Where is it?" She whispered, panic growing. Finally, her fingers found paper, in the very bottom of the bag. She yanked them out, hugging them gingerly to her chest, then looking them over with care. What she found surprised her. The song. . .the song was finished. And in her own hand writing, too. Her mouth opened and closed in shock, but she didn't have time to say anything, for Shawn re-entered the room, followed by a crowd of wrestlers and bookers.
"Hey Lita, feeling better"
"Hi, Lita, how ya feeling"
"Do you feel better, honey?"
Everyone asked at once. She stuffed the papers back in her bag and smiled. "Yeah, I'm great guys. Thanks a whole bunch." The guys smiled back at her, and she felt her heart filled with love. They were a family. Abiet, not a blood family, but they loved each other, nonetheless. It was something she hadn't been ably to Truly enjoy, being taken away from her parents as she was. Suddenly, Hunter spoke up. "Hey Lita, what was that Bunny thing all about?" The loud thwack of Dave smacking him could be heard audibly seconds after.
"Oh." Lita said, red faced. "Uh...It's a nickname. Don't think I don't have one for you, Tripsie. And the rest of you, as well." Hunter sort of paled, and back off. Batista, meanwhile, crossed his arms and looked smug. "Oh really, let's hear some then."
"Oh, all right." Lita kicked her legs back and forth in the air, scanning the small crowd, trying to think of one. "You." She said, pointing to Mark. "Your nickname is Pinkie, 'Taker."
"Ooh! Pinkie." Batista said, pointing at Mark with a huge grin. "Aw, Mark. Pinkie. That's SO much worse than Bunny."
Mark just kind of smiled and shook his head slowly. "Yeah, if you say so, Bunny."
Lita beamed at Mark, winking. "Don't worry 'Taker, I've got worse." She looked again, and then she realized someone key was missing. Where was Chris? He had saved her; why wasn't he here? Her smile faded, as Eddie's face again filled her mind. She linked Eddie to Chris, and Chris to Eddie. Lita knew that they had been very close, and because they had come to the WWE together, she just always associated them with one-another. "Where's...where's Chris?" She asked slowly.
Everyone piped down quite a bit. Lita gulped. Did she say something wrong. When no one seemed keen on telling her, Mark spoke up. "He's wandering around the hallways, dahlin'." His Texan accent and strong voice seemed to carry through the room. "Chris is takin. . .takin' what happened real hard. Chris isn't talking to anyone."
"Well, he saved me, he'll talk to me." She answered, setting her jaw determinedly.
Mark looked at Shawn, who seemed to know her the best. Shawn nodded slowly, after looking at Lita for a moment. "Alright, if that's what you want, I'll take you to him, little Lita."
"Thanks, 'Taker." Lita said. She pointed to a pair of crutches leaned up against the wall. "Crutches, please." Mark walked forward through the crowd and easily snatched the crutches with one hand, handing them to Lita. She positioned them under her arms, and very carefully stepped off the table, wanting to show the guys that she could take care of herself. She grabbed her backpack, and put all her weight on the crutches and her un-injured leg. Her pride started coming back to her as she made her way slowly out of the room, following Mark.
He lead her around for a while, finally coming through to a dressing room isolated from all the others. "He's in there." Mark said slowly. "But don't expect him to talk to you. We all loved Eddie. . .but he was Chris's best friend."
"I understand, 'Taker." Lita said quietly, looking at the door as if she could see through it. With a nod, the big man strode off, but she suspected he would not go far. "Such a softie." She smiled sadly, lightly rapping on the door. No answer. She knocked again, harder. Still, no one answered the door. She frowned, and pushed it open slowly. "Chris?" She asked. "Chris Benoit, are you in here?" She saw him sitting in a chair at a table, just staring at the wall. Forcing the door all the way open by hitting in with her crutches, she hobbled in, limping right over to the grieving wrestler. "Chris, talk to me." she demanded, getting right in his face. Lita smiled when she saw recognition cloud Chris's vacant expression. "Hey, you're. . ." He said slowly, his voice even rougher than what it would normally have been.
"Yes, I'm the girl you saved." Lita answered for him, "If you hadn't a saved me, I would probably be dead right now. I came to thank you, Chris. You saved my life."
"I saved your life, why couldn't I save Eddie's life? He still died." Chris spat bitterly, looking over her shoulder. Then Lita did something he did not expect, but probably deserved. She reached back and smacked him across the face. That got his attention. He looked at her in confusion. "You think you're the only one who loved Eddie? Huh? That's right Chris, just wallow in your self pity. How do you think his wife feels? Batista? Rey? You think they don't feel the same way?" She was almost screaming at him by now, and tears started running down her face in waves. "We loved him to. The fans loved him. I fucking loved Eddie Guerrero." She screamed, collapsing down beside him in another chair. By this time, Chris had started crying too, leaned over, head in his hands. "I know." He said, sobbing. Lita threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, soon soaking his shirt with her salty tears, both from the pain of the beating she had received, and the pain of losing someone she truly loved.
Chris knew Eddie behind the scenes, and loved him. Lita knew Eddie from years of watching him, and she loved him. Some might argue that a fan can never truly love a wrestler. They insist it is an infatuation. Well, what do they know about love? Love takes every form imaginable, and it is always just as strong and as hard to break in whatever shape it takes.
"I loved him too." Lita choked again, through wracking sobs.
Standing by the door, Mark smiled. Well then, his hunch had been right. They were both exactly what the other needed to heal. They'd both loved Eddie, both been in pain, both hadn't been able to deal with it properly. All they'd needed was someone who understood what they were feeling. Some one had done the same for him, when he had lost Yokozuna, one of his closest friends. He quietly walked off to tell Shawn that they were going to be all right- both Lita AND Chris.
Almost one year later, the same wrestlers who had been in that arena the night of the Supershow they had dedicated to Eddie, the night Lita had been attacked and almost raped, were again grouped together in an Arena in the town of El Paso, Texas. Many things had changed over the course of an entire year; most importantly, Lita had called back Nora, the lady who had given her a ride. They'd started talking to each other over the phone and over coffee more and more, until Nora finally offered Lita a room in her home to stay. Lita never wanted to go back to her Aunt, so she packed up her belongings, and moved in with her new friend. She also made it big in the music industry, rolling one hit after the other out. But none of her songs, no matter how hard she tried, could ever seem to top her very first one. . .Chris Benoit learned to deal with his grief, though he still missed Eddie something terrible. Eddie would never be forgotten, by his friends, or his fans. They showed their loyalty to Eddie by showing up Forty-two thousand strong to the small arena, filling the seats and then thousands more had to stand up, because quite frankly, security just couldn't get them to budge. And this time, instead of "Here without You" as the tribute video to Eddie Guerrero, Lita performed the song live for him, live, in front of Forty-two thousand crying fans.
"Sunny days seem to hurt the most. I wear the pain like a heavy coat. I feel you everywhere I go. I see your smile, I see your face, I hear you laughin' in the rain. I still can't believe you're gone.
It ain't fair: you died too young, Like the story that had just begun, But death tore the pages all away. God knows how I miss you, All the hell I've been through, Just knowin' no-one could take your place. An' sometimes I wonder, Who'd you be today?
Would you see the world? Would you chase your dreams? Settle down with a family, I wonder what would you name your babies? Some days the sky's so blue, I feel like I can talk to you, An' I know it might sound crazy.
It ain't fair: you died too young, Like the story that had just begun, But death tore the pages all away. God knows how I miss you, All the hell I've been through, Just knowin' no-one could take your place. An' sometimes I wonder, Who you'd be today?
Today, today, today. Today, today, today.
Sunny days seem to hurt the most. I wear the pain like a heavy coat. The only thing that gives me hope, Is I know I'll see you again some day.
Some day, some day, some day. "
"That was beautiful Lita." Chris said, giving her a hug after the show was over and they were all backstage. The rest of the boys were all grouped around as well, each one giving her a smile and a hug or a kiss. Shawn and Mark were especially proud of her.
"You did great, dahlin'." Mark said, capturing her in a bear hug. Lita hugged him back, then struggled to be let down. "You're killing me, 'Taker."
"You did do excellent, Lita." Shawn said, hugging her after Mark finally put her down. "Eddie would have been so happy to be remembered as he was."
"Yeah Lita, you've got a real talent with words." Chris said, standing next to his friends, giving her that famous toothless grin of his.
"No, I just have a guardian angel watching over me." Lita said, remembering that strange day when she'd found the lyrics finished. That seemed to mean something to everyone, and they all kind of feel silent, each thinking of their fallen friend, and each recalling a specific time when he had helped them.
Finis
Dedicated to Eddie Guerrero. Rest in peace, Latino Heat. We'll never forget who you were, and what you did for us. Thank you, Eddie, my darling, my blood.