Chapter 11: Some Wounds Never Heal

Triple H stormed into the hotel room, hurling his precious trophy of gold and leather onto the bed. "That son of a bitch! That goddamn Canadian son of a bitch!" he raved.

Elektra knew that at times like this, it was better to let the Game run his course rather than try and interrupt him. If you interrupted, you ran the risk of having a water glass thrown at your head. She listened to the World Heavyweight Champion's rant while continuing to brush her hair. "Who the hell does Benoit think he is, anyway? Coming onto my show, challenging me to my title, and acting like he's hot shit just because he won the Royal Rumble." Triple H paced back and forth. "I won the Royal Rumble after being out of action for almost a year. What do I have to show for it? The World Heavyweight Championship. Benoit gets shoved into the Rumble at the last second, and what does he have to show for it? Nothing except some bumps and bruises and a whole lot of Canadian ego."

Elektra chose that moment to exit the bathroom, fully expecting to see a glass airborne at her. She walked over to Triple H, placing her hand lightly on his arm, feeling the bicep muscle beneath his suit jacket. "Now, baby, calm down. Remember who you're talking about here. I mean, it's Chris Benoit. After 18 years of wrestling, he still has nothing to show for it while you, you, are an eight-time World Heavyweight Champion." She walked a slow circle around Triple H, letting her hand trail over his body as she talked. "Let's be honest: Benoit can't win the big one. We know it, the fans know it, and deep down, Benoit knows it. Now all you have to do is show him." She pressed against the Game, tiptoeing up so that her mouth was only an inch or two away from his. "Show him why you're the king of Monday Night Raw." She stressed the last three words, letting her voice drop down to a husky whisper. She could hear Triple H's breathing become just a little bit heavier. Elektra smiled and stepped back. "Now, why don't you just relax–" She put both hands on the Game's chest and pushed gently. He let her, falling back into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. Elektra climbed onto his lap, her long legs straddling his. She draped her arms around his neck, her mouth up against his ear. "–and forget all about Chris Benoit." she murmured.

Without speaking, Triple H grabbed her around the waist and flipped her over onto her back. Now he was the one straddling her. He studied her for a few seconds, touching her face and running his hand down the length of her body. His fingers grazed lightly over the juncture between her legs, and for a moment, Elektra though that she would have to fake it this early in the act. But the Game was obviously not planning to dole out pleasure tonight unless he was getting some of his own at the same time. He leaned down and kissed the line of her jaw, near her ear, and Elektra steeled herself mentally for what was destined to follow. But what came out of Triple H's mouth instead shocked her:

"I heard that you and Orton had a little run-in tonight."

Elektra couldn't prevent her body from stiffening at the mere mention of Orton's name. Just the thought of what he had done, what he could have done back in that hallway made her sick with fear. "Is that what he's calling it?" she replied tersely. "Because most people I know would call that attempted rape."

The Game chuckled lightly. "Careful, babe, that word is likely to get you in trouble around here."

Elektra was fuming inside. She couldn't believe that Triple H was making this out to be no big deal. "That asshole threw me up against a wall and tried to strangle me, and you're concerned about my choice of wording? Orton could have killed me, Hunter. If I were you, I'd put a muzzle on that mad dog of yours."

"Hey," the Game responded. "I didn't say it was right, and believe me, Orton will be dealt with. I'll see to it personally. But right now, there's a few things I need to clarify for you." He dipped his head back down, sliding his lips down the curve of her neck. Trailing a line of kisses to her shoulder, he slid off one of her thin tank top straps. "You know," Triple H continued, moving across to the hollow of her throat. "I started Evolution to show the world the future of this business." He slowly slid off her other strap. "But in order to do that, we all need to play nice with one another. So, even though you may dislike Orton, the next time he wants to play–" With one deft movement, Triple H tugged her tank top down around her waist, letting his hands travel over the curves of her bare upper body. "–I suggest you let him." he finished.

Elektra blinked, sure that she must have been hallucinating. "Excuse me? You can't be serious." She searched the Game's face for some indication that he had been joking, but there was no such sign. Enraged, she pushed at his shoulders, trying to get out from under him. "Get off me! Get the fuck off me!"

Triple H obliged, rolling over onto his side. Surprise was written all across his face. "Was it something I said?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Hunter!" Elektra snapped, getting to her feet and yanking her top back up. "How dare you! After what he did to me...you want me to play nice with him?" She stormed into the bathroom, grabbing toiletries with both hands while she talked. "I have done anything and everything that you have asked me to do for the sake of Evolution. But I will not, will not, cozy up to that psychopath just so you can keep morale high!" Coming back into the room, she lifted up her suitcase lid and hurled everything inside.

Triple H watched all of this with raised eyebrows. "Going somewhere?" he asked jokingly.

Elektra wanted to strangle him. After all she had just said, he still thought she was only kidding. Well, time to show him how serious he was. She fumbled for her purse, and located her cell phone. Pulling it out, she flipped it open and began scrolling through the menu screens. "Trish and Lita are staying at this hotel. I'm calling one of them and seeing if I can room with them tonight."

"Wait, wait, wait!" In a flash, Triple H was off the bed and kneeling down beside her. He put his hands over hers, closing the cell phone back up. "Hold on, babe. I didn't know you were serious." Still covering her hands with his own, he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Let's not be too hasty about this. I mean, do you really want to walk out on Evolution just because of a few things that Orton told you? Do you have any idea what that would do to us? To me?" He rested his cheek against her hair, his mouth next to her ear. "It doesn't have to be like this. What can I do to make it up to you?"

Emotionally, Elektra was between a rock and a hard place. Triple H did not get it; probably never would get it. He was more concerned about what her departure would mean for Evolution than he was about her. Deep down, a part of her was saying to leave now while she had the chance. But it was a very small part, battling a firmly ingrained belief: that she was safest with Evolution. Elektra had made enough enemies during her short time here to make her fear the possibility of being on her own.

Besides, would she even be able to talk to Batista again? To even see him? The thought of creating a situation in which they would be adversaries was unbearable to her. That, even more than her desire for security, resigned her to making amends with Triple H.

She turned her head, pulling back enough so that she could look the Game in the eye. "You'll talk to Orton." It was more of a statement than a question.

Triple H smiled, apparently relieved that she would not be leaving Evolution. "I'll speak with him tomorrow. Trust me."

"I'm serious, Hunter," Elektra insisted. "I don't want him bothering me again. Understand?"

Triple H chuckled. "Calm down, will you? I said I'd take care of it."

Which means nothing...Elektra thought to herself, but she kept quiet. She knew that what the Game had said had been partially true, at least for her: in order to survive in the WWE, she would have to play nice with Triple H. But for how long?

Elektra finally let herself smile at the Game, though inwardly, she was filled with a cold sick uncertainty of what the future might bring. "I knew there was a reason I liked you best." It was amazing how normal her voice sounded.

Triple H pulled her back against him, his hands traveling from her waist to other intimate areas. "Now...what was it you were saying about forgetting?" he murmured.

Elektra waited until Triple H's breathing became deep and even before slowly sliding out of bed. Fortunately for her, the Game had never been a fan of cuddling, so she didn't have to worry about extricating herself from his arms. Having laid awake for some time, her eyes were already well adjusted to the darkness, so she had no trouble dressing herself. Grabbing her coat off a chair, she opened the door a crack and froze, waiting to see if the soft noise had woken Triple H. When she saw that he hadn't moved, she slipped out the door and closed it quietly behind her.

She thought that she had been nearly silent, but she had only walked a few feet when she heard a door open behind her. Elektra spun around, an excuse ready on her lips, but it wasn't Triple H standing behind her, it was Batista leaned against the doorframe of his own room, clad only in a pair of black sweatpants. He peered at her sleepily. "Where're you going?"

Elektra didn't speak at first; she was unable to tear her eyes away from the well-defined ridges of his chest and abdomen, from the sunburst tattoo surrounding his naval. She tried to speak, but no sound came out. Finally, she managed to stammer: "Out for a walk." The words flowed out from her mouth naturally before she could even think to stop them. "Want to join me?"

For a few moments, Batista was silent, then he finally spoke up: "Sure. Just let me throw some clothes on."

Batista glanced over at Elektra, studying the play of shadows and light across her face. Under the glare of streetlamps, with her hair pulled back and no makeup on, she looked nothing like the exotic WWE Diva that accompanied him or Flair or Triple H down to the ring; the Diva who wasn't afraid to get involved in a match-up. But that didn't make her any less beautiful. If anything, Batista was even more attracted to her. Seeing her now, in this light, she looked so far removed from the wrestling world and what she really was: arm candy for the World Heavyweight Champion.

Staring at her, he thought about what she had told him last night, and more importantly, what she hadn't told him. Maybe here, on this quiet street, far from the prying eyes of cameras or Evolution, she could finally tell him what had crippled her spirit all those years ago. Well, it certainly wouldn't hurt to try.

"Elektra?" She stopped and turned toward him. Her eyes were almost colorless in the glow of the streetlights. Then she stepped into a patch of shadow, and they returned to normal. Batista tried to find a way to ask the impossible. How could he possibly ask her to rip a wound back open? "I want to ask you something, and I know you're not going to want to tell me the answer."

Elektra's face turned pale, or maybe it was just a trick of the light. Either way, she suddenly seemed even more vulnerable. But then she seemed to draw strength from somewhere inside herself, and returned to normal. "All right, I'll tell you, but first, let's sit down."

There was a bench nearby, under a pool of yellow-white light. They both sat down. Batista turned toward her, resting his arm on the back of the bench behind her. Elektra faced straight ahead, staring at nothing. Maybe she was looking at the past. But then, the spell was broken, and she turned toward him as she spoke.

"Six years ago..." She hesitated, looking down for a moment. She seemed to be having trouble catching her breath. Without saying a word, Batista put his hand on her shoulder, as though he could somehow transfer his strength to her. However silly this seemed, it must have worked because Elektra regained her composure and looked back up. "Six years ago...I was raped."

Her voice was calm, steady, belying none of the nervousness she must feel. "I had just started working the indie circuit. I was nineteen, barely out of high school, traveling from town to town, doing anything I could to do to help with a show and learning how to wrestle from anyone who was willing to teach me." She broke off her monologue, staring away into the distance again. "There was one guy...a wrestler. He'd been working the circuit for a few years when I showed up, and when we met, something just...clicked. One night, he asked me to wait for him after a show, said he was going to teach me a few moves before they tore the ring down. I was waiting in the locker room...and I remember now just how quiet everything seemed. I mean, I couldn't hear people or cars or anything. Just this hum of silence. And I didn't even realize he was there until I hear the sound of the door locking." Her voice changed, quavered slightly as she continued to backpedal through memories. "I looked up and he just came at me...knocked me down. I tried to scream...but he hit me...and I was so surprised...I mean, no one had ever hit me like that before, not even in the ring. I tried to struggle, but he just hit me over and over until I finally stopped and just let him finish."

She stopped, crossing both arms over her abdomen and bending forward as though in pain. Batista wanted desperately to put his arms around her, to comfort her in some way, but she straightened back up again. When she spoke again, her voice sounded detached, almost cold. "After it was done, he told me that if I tried to tell anyone, he'd kill me. Then he laughed, he laughed, and said that even if I did, no one would believe me anyway." She looked at Batista. "I was a lot more...wild...in those days, you see, and there would always be those few who would say that I just led him on." She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, then opened them. "What could I do? I was still basically a teenager, I had no money, my parents were hundreds of miles away. I didn't really have any friends in the business at that point; I traveled alone, and despite my wayward nature, I kept to myself. Who could I turn to?" She smiled, but it was bitter and brittle. "I went to a clinic, had myself treated and tested, and then I went back out on the road. I didn't call the police, I didn't tell anyone, not even my parents. I just pretended that it didn't happen, and eventually, I started to believe it. But you can't forget something like that, not without a price."

She stopped, and took a deep breath. "I used to have a boyfriend, you know. At that time, we had been going out for almost two and a half years. He was supportive of me, understood that this was what I wanted to do. But after...it...happened, I couldn't connect with him anymore. It was like all of my emotions had shut down. I used to dread whenever we were together because no matter what he did, it couldn't arouse any spark of emotion or passion in me." Again the bitter smile. "I got used to faking it, but eventually, I got tired of faking it, and just left. It took him about a month to stop calling, and another two months to stop contacting me altogether."

Elektra paused for breath again. She couldn't believe she was sharing all of this with someone she barely knew, but at the same time, she was glad to finally be able to tell someone. "I always told myself that maybe if I'd had friends to look out for me, he wouldn't have targeted me. That if I'd had someone to protect me, it wouldn't have happened. So when I went back out on the road, I started making friends with everyone I met, trying to be part of one group or another just so I'd have backup...in case he'd ever show up again." She paused to cover her face with her hands, slowly bringing them down under her chin. "Stephanie McMahon saved my life, you know. She's the one who signed me to WWE in the first place, who enrolled me in OVW. If she hadn't pulled me out of the indies, I don't know what what would have happened to me. Once I was at Ohio Valley, I began learning all I could, but I always kept my eye on WWE, knowing that if I was lucky, I'd get to go there. But I also knew that the WWE is just a bigger pool of sharks. So I watched both brands religiously, keeping my eye out for powerful tag teams or factions. Anyone who would be willing to have my back should trouble arise. Then, one day, I got the call, found out I was going to Raw, and lo and behold, there was a dominant new group on Raw, who called themselves Evolution and were headed by none other than Triple H himself. I arrived on the night of Armageddon, and you know the rest." Elektra finally leaned back, seemingly exhausted by the tale. "So now you know...now you know why I'm here...and why being around you has me so confused."

Batista felt overwhelmed. He'd had no idea that Elektra had experienced such suffering, and that she had managed to overcome it in order to fulfill her dream. Everything about her that had ever seemed conflicting–her calculating nature, her cold heart in the ring, her loyalty to Triple H despite his indifference–all suddenly made sense. Batista looked at the young woman next to him, damaged but not broken, wounded inside but not yet dead. He felt a stirring of pity, but also of admiration and feeling. He may have been the Animal, but between the two of them, she was the stronger one.

He spoke softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I-I had no idea..." As soon as he said it, he felt an idiot. Well, of course he'd had no idea. Elektra had never shared even a hint of what she had just told him until yesterday.

"Dave..." Elektra reached out, and touched his face, resting her palm against his cheek. Batista reached up and placed his hand gently over hers. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me. It was a horrible thing, but I survived. I'm alive, and I'm here, and I'm not leaving. It's finally over." Her voice broke, and she almost lost her composure. Almost. "At least, I thought it was..." she whispered, her voice shaking.

Batista looked up instantly, his expression furrowing in concern. "What happened? What's wrong?"

Elektra stared back at him, and suddenly began crying, her body shaking with sobs. "It's happening all over again..." she managed to say before breaking down completely.

Batista grabbed her and pulled her close, murmuring words of comfort, trying to tell her that he was there, that he would always be there. Through her tears, Elektra told him about Orton and what had transpired in the hallway, ending with Triple H's laissez-faire approach to the whole situation.

"–And he says that he'll deal with it, which really means that he'll do nothing," Elektra gasped out between sobs. "All he cares about is Evolution. I nearly get assaulted and it's his little Legend Killer that he's worried about. Never mind the fact that I have to start looking over my shoulder all over again. Never mind that I have Orton to fear now. I joined Evolution so that I would be protected. I never thought I'd have to be protected from Evolution."

Batista gritted his teeth in anger, wanting to break Orton in half for what he had done. "I'll kill him..." he whispered.

Elektra pulled back, her eyes wide and teary. "Oh, no, don't, please!" she pleaded. Batista could only stare at her, confused. She tried to explain. "If you interfere, it'll only cause trouble."

"But if there's the chance he could do this to you again–" Batista began.

"Orton is a power-hungry little shit who is willing to walk over anybody to reach the top." Elektra interrupted. She seemed to have regained some of her old anger. "He seems to have developed some sick obsession with me in his mind. He does not need to know that you have feelings for me. If he does...he'll use it to turn Triple H against you, or worse, me." She reached up and gently held his face in her hands. "I don't want him to take away the one good thing I've found since I've been here."

Batista looked into her eyes, his anger subsiding. She was right, of course, but still... "If he touches you again, I'll rip his arms off," he replied. He reached up and touched her cheek, wiping away the tears. "I'll always protect you," he whispered. "No matter what."

For a few minutes, there was nothing but silence between them. Finally, Batista was the one to break it. "I know that you asked me not to..." he began. "But I seriously want to kiss you right now."

Elektra didn't respond at first, but then the familiar smile touched her lips. "I won't tell Hunter if you won't." she answered.

Batista leaned in and gently pressed his mouth against hers, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Elektra leaned into him, letting her hand slide back to the nape of his neck as she kissed him back.

They embraced under the hazy glow of a streetlamp, knowing that despite what life had done to separate them, they would always have each other.