Summary: Jesse Hawk was the son of a dead beat, no name jobber, but he never let anyone know about his background. He was a high flyer, suave, a ladies' man, and Randy Orton's protégé. Just like Randy, he had high ambitions and dangerous enemies. So when he finally gets his chance to challenge his mentor for the WWE Title, will the two be able to engage in friendly competition, or will friendship crumble over the prize they both covet?
Disclaimer: I don't own the WWE, or any affiliated stuff. But I do own Jesse, so TAKE THAT COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT LAWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Jesse stood as a little boy watching his father. He looked up to his father so much. David Hawk was a local wrestling jobber who had shared the ring with big names like Shawn Michaels and Bret Hart. A few times, he had even brought Jesse to meet the little boy's heroes. Jesse wanted to be just like his father.
And that was what his mother was afraid of.
Abby Hawk thought that David was a good man when she met him. And when they got married, he revealed himself for what he really was. An alcoholic, a drug abuser, and a wife beater.
"C'mon, baby, let's go for a ride," Abby told Jesse as she checked the clock. David would be home in a matter of minutes
"But Mommy, Daddy said that he was gonna go wrestle tonight! He said he'd come back and get me! I wanna watch him wrestle!"
"Daddy doesn't want you there tonight, Jess. He's gonna be busy, ok?"
"MOMMY, DADDY SAID!" Jesse yelled, stomping his foot. Abby sighed and tried to think of something to get her little boy in the car.
"I'll buy you ice cream if you can get in the car before me…" she hinted.
"I don't want ice cream I wanna go watch Daddy!" Abby threw the last suitcase in the car.
"Baby we need to go NOW!" she said, getting panicked.
"Mommy!" he screamed. "Why can't we go see Daddy?" And then the very thing Abby had been dreading happened. David pulled back into the driveway. He fell out of his truck stumbling drunk. Jesse tore out of Abby's arms and ran to his father. "DADDY, MOMMY DOESN'T WANNA LET ME YOU WRESTLE TONIGHT!" he wailed. David picked him up and stumbled over to Abby.
"Why won't you let my boy see my wrestle tonight?" he slurred.
"I never said that," she replied nervously. He looked into the trunk of the car.
"Why do you have suitcases?" he asked.
"Don't you remember our family vacation?" she asked, making something up.
"Oh yeah…" he said thoughtfully. "Why isn't my suitcase here?" he said suddenly. Abby backed away slowly. "You're lying to me! You just wanna take my son from me!" He picked up a two by four from the junk in the yard.
The young Jesse watched as his father brutally attacked his mother with the board.
A week later, the boy stood next to the godfather he never knew he had watching his mother's coffin as it was lowered into the ground. David had been given life sentence in prison with no chance for parole. The pain he felt at losing both of his parents in a matter of days far outstripped the excitement he felt at discovering that his godfather was Shawn Michaels himself.
"I-uh…" HBK told him slowly. "I'm sorry you had to see all this…" Shawn was terrible with kids, and now he would be taking care of this one because he had nowhere else to go. The normally cheerful 6-year old was stood silently with tears pouring down his face.
Fast forward 7 years. Jesse was 13 standing in the same place he had at the funeral.
"Kid, are you sure you're ok?" Shawn asked his ward.
"I'm fine." Jesse had matured quickly in the few years since his mother's death. HBK stood next to Jesse and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
"It's been 7 years, kid," Shawn said. "If you've still got something on your chest about this, it's high time you got it off." Jesse shook his head. Shawn cocked an eyebrow and pulled his trump card. "We could always get a shrink to pry it out of you…" Jesse glared up at him.
"You know I hate shrinks…" he said quietly. Shawn smirked, and Jesse sighed at him. "If I tell you, will you drop it?" His godfather nodded. Jess sighed again. "It's my fault she died." Shawn looked down at him incredulously.
"How do you figure that?" he asked. "Your dad was drunk, he got mad at your mom, how do you figure into that?" Jesse looked down, not wanting Shawn to see him cry.
"I looked up to him so much…" he whispered. "I loved watching him wrestle, and he had a match that night. He always went out for a few before he wrestled, and Mom was gonna run away with me before he got home so he wouldn't be able to follow us."
"I'm still not understanding how it's your fault," Shawn said, sitting cross-legged on the ground. Jesse followed him.
"I wouldn't let her leave because I wanted to see him so bad," he said bitterly. "I cried and complained and was being a brat and it gave him enough time to get home and… and…" He buried his face in his hands. "If I just woulda went, if I woulda understood that he was such a bad man… she would still be alive."
"Aww, kid," Shawn said. "You were six. You couldn't have known that he was an alcoholic, or that he would have hurt her."
"I've told myself that plenty of times," Jess assured him. "And the only problem with that is that I did understand. The day they buried her I understood. While he was killing her I knew it. I knew that if I had just got in that car everything would have been ok…" It was Shawn's turn to sigh.
"Listen to me. You were six. And from what I understand, even if you would have left when she wanted to, he would have seen you going down the driveway. And do you what your father would have done if he had saw your mother going down the driveway? He probably would have revved the engine and hit you head on. And then none of you would be here. Not you, your mother, or your father." Jesse looked straight at Shawn.
"That seems pretty… what's the word? Theoretical, right? To me…" he replied. Shawn sighed as he nodded.
"It's very theoretical." Jesse stared at the setting sun over the trees.
"Was Dad always like that?" he asked suddenly. When Shawn didn't answer, he looked over at his godfather. Shawn was staring into the sinking sun, too.
"No. Once, he was a good man. Once, his passion was his wrestling. And then he lost himself to drugs and alcohol and the whatnot." A look of determination crossed Jesse's face.
"Uncle Shawn, I'm never gonna be like him."
Author Note: Ok, now we're getting started. Sorry there was no author note in the prologue, but I'm still getting used to this system. If you're looking for some wrestling action, check the next chapter. I just decided that you needed to know Jesse's backstory. You never know, it might be important later…