Title: Crash
Author: Allison
Pairing: Gen; Evan Bourne and Chris Jericho
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I don't own these people or their names. None of this is true.
Summary: This started as an introspective on Evan and then Jericho forced his way in and made it weird.
It's that moment that you step out and you can ifeel/i thousands of pairs of eyes on you, and only you. There really is nothing like it. You can hear the blood pumping through your veins; excitement flooding every nerve.
But this time, it's different.
The words that you heard backstage are still ringing in your head, "The more you fly, the more likely you are to crash."
You really should not have spoken to Jericho before your match.
Flying is exhilarating; it makes you feel alive. Never once have you feared the sky . . . until now.
And you shouldn't feel this way really. The warnings have come from every direction over the years: some caring and soft, some jeering and false. Why does it matter what Jericho thinks? It's not as if he actually cares what happens to you.
So like every other time, you climb to the top rope and leap; not with a wing and a prayer, but with years of practiced athleticism. And just like every other time, your shooting star is beautiful. It's actually complicated if you really want to go into it: millions of thoughts running through the brain in a span of seconds. Launch, rotate, head back, position arms, catch yourself.
You don't crash this time.
You are under no illusion that you never will, but for one more night, you've put on a good show.
Jericho is still there when you get back, watching the next match with a practiced eye.
"Why say it?"
"Because it's something you need to hear," he replies, not even looking up from the screen.
"But-"
"You need to remember what you are risking every time you go out there; what you could lose," there is a hint of sadness glistening in Jericho's eyes, but his voice is stoic, "I think the others forgot, but you shouldn't and I'll be here to remind you."
"Why do you care?" you ask almost desperately and it seems as if this is becoming something completely different from when it began.
"I care about everyone in this business . . . even if no one cares about me."
You can only stare.
"Get out of here kid."
And you do, but not before casting one last glance at the now angry looking man.
Physically, you didn't crash today.