Check it out, another chapter! I'm totally on the ball with these. Unfortunately, the next chapter is likely to be a bit of a longer wait.
Jet understood now. It made sense to her after that night in the bar and she understood – Punk didn't love her. He never had, even if he thought so. He was like everyone else, using those three words as the ultimate leverage, lodging the thought of happiness into her brain and tearing it away just as quickly. I love you were the words whispered as another apology, another way of telling Jet that this had to happen. She had to be hurt in every way she ever could be but it was alright because I love you. His voice still reverberated in her head with those words pounding at her skull. They brought an unnatural pain with them, the memories of long healed breaks and bruises. She had shown her vulnerability that night in Punk's living room, letting those old nightmares burrow into her mind again, crying out desperately in front of him. She refused to show that same vulnerability in this city again. She wouldn't sit in that bar and watch him realise that she was nothing special, nothing that couldn't be replaced. She could take so much, she knew she could survive the torment, but she couldn't stand to watch that.
Jet closed her eyes tightly, the car still motionless in the parking lot opposite the bar she'd fled twenty minutes ago. Her head didn't feel clear enough to drive yet. She'd lied flat out to AJ, telling her she'd had nothing to drink. She'd only had two before she found that even the familiar taste of Coke laced with vodka didn't help anything. She figured she was over the limit – she had no idea what the limit actually was, she usually employed a strict no alcohol when driving policy – but she didn't feel remotely tipsy, the sight in the bar had sobered any part of her that the drink had affected. Her fuzzy head came solely from Punk, not from the alcohol. She really had thought she could fix this but he'd made it obvious that he didn't care for that. She wouldn't let herself long for him anymore, not now. She couldn't bear it.
She shoved the keys into the ignition more violently than necessary and ignored the sensible part of her head telling her that it was stupid to even think of driving after leaving a bar, but she was too much regressed into the darker part of her mind to pay attention. She didn't cause any accidents and she managed to keep to her side of the road so she counted that as a victory. When AJ got back two hours later, Jet pretended to be asleep. AJ doesn't need to know that she isn't going to sleep any time soon.
Jet was already gone when AJ woke up the next day. It was barely ten in the morning and AJ was usually the first to get up, but Jet's bed was made and the room was empty. AJ grabbed her phone, trying to call her best friend and make sure she was okay. The phone rang eight times before going to Jet's voicemail, a lively happy voice that AJ hadn't heard in what felt like too long. AJ didn't leave a voicemail, knowing Jet wouldn't listen to it. AJ sighed, scrolling through her phonebook to call Claudio instead. He answered in two rings.
"Good morning!" he said chirpily, always the first to happily embrace a new day.
"Hey, is Jet with you?" AJ asked, cutting right to the chase.
Claudio paused and a hint of worry became evident in his voice. "No. You don't know where she is?"
He hadn't quite forgiven the others for what they'd done to Jet the night before. He knew that it wouldn't be a good idea to force her into that kind of situation, it turned her straight back into the skittish little girl he'd met so many years ago. Jet doesn't understand how much Claudio realises, but he'd always known. He'd known from the first second he'd laid eyes on her in some dingy little gym as they both toured the indy circuit, and he had watched her shy away from the big men who tried to pat her back and congratulate her on her match. She wore long sleeve shirts to hide what Claudio had already seen from her ring gear, the bruises that he wouldn't believe came from ringwork. They were purposefully inflicted. Someone had hurt her and Claudio felt the instant need to hurt that person right back. He had never found out who, had never pushed for that information on the times they'd run into each other. Claudio had given her plenty of opportunities to tell him what was going on, even now, and she never had so that told him that she didn't want him to know. He didn't resent that, he couldn't resent anything about her. He'd just wait and if she needed him, he'd be there.
"No, she left before I got up this morning. I'm worried about her."
"Me too," Claudio agreed, his voice turning a little accusing to AJ's ears. She felt guilty, she didn't need the Swiss man to compound that. "She can't have gone far, I'm sure," he said when he gets his own worry slightly under control.
AJ glanced at the bedside table and sighed. "She took the car keys."
Claudio rubbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I'll call her."
"I've already tried, she's not answering. Do you think she's angry with me?"
Claudio felt a pang of sympathy for AJ because he understood that she regretted what happened last night as much as the others do. The way she swiftly told Punk off proved that much. "No, I just think she'd upset. She's done this before."
He's not supposed to know that either. Corey had told him as soon as the Pittsburgh native came to realise that Claudio knew. Corey didn't ask how he knew because he'd long accepted that he just knew everything about everyone, and he told him about the two days after she had first finally said the words that Corey had already figured out. Four months after she'd first arrived in Florida, four months after Corey had attached himself to her like a bad habit, she finally broke down one night in his apartment and told him everything. He didn't need to hear it, but she needed to say it so he sat and listened, feeling his heart break even more when she started crying on him. She disappeared for two days after that, no one could get hold of her on the phone and her apartment was empty. Corey covered for her at work, telling them she'd picked up an illness and needed to rest. He knew Regal didn't believe him but he'd nodded and clipped Corey's ears, telling him to get to work. She turned up again, walking into training like nothing had happened and telling no one anything, and she'd changed. For the better, but the change was clear.
Claudio wasn't sure the change would be for the better when she came back this time.
"She has? Where did she go last time?"
"I don't know, and if Graves is telling me the truth, no one else does either."
"What, she just disappeared?" AJ's got more worked up by the second.
"Yes, effectively."
"Why are you so calm?" AJ all but yelled.
Claudio was anything but calm, but he's good at impersonating it. "She'll come back. We just have to let her have some time alone."
"Oh God, we messed up."
"Yes, you did."
"She's not going to hate me, is she?"
"No April, she won't."
Claudio had to reassure AJ at least three more times before she let him hang up.
Jet's problem had been alcohol for a long time. It became her coping method during her worst years when there was no one else to help her. She'd carried on that tradition, always drinking too much when things got bad. She wondered what her mother would say if she saw her in this dive of a bar somewhere in Chicago, drinking until she couldn't think about it anymore. Her mum had always been the calm level-headed one of the family. Her dad was too much of a rough city boy to have much patience, but her mum could talk through any problem to find an easy solution. Jet couldn't see a solution to this one.
The barman shot Jet a few glances and she couldn't figure out if it was because he recognised her or if he was just concerned about the young woman drinking copious amounts of whiskey at barely midday. If it was the latter, he wasn't concerned enough to stop serving her. Part of Jet was embarrassed that she was huddling a bottle of Jack into her chest, but the rest of her was just relieved that she was alone.
Her phone buzzed with another text from AJ to add to the nine others she already had. Jet read them all and decided she'd reply later. Torturing herself a little more, Jet opened the text she'd got at nearly 9:30 that morning.
Can we talk? x
Punk had realised as soon as AJ had ripped into him last night that he'd been selfish. He'd been more concerned with his battered pride than he had been about Jet's obvious problems. He'd tried to push away her clear issues when it came to relationships – he wasn't blind to ignore her physical reactions to words like girlfriend – in a ridiculous attempt at convincing himself they didn't exist. He'd reacted badly last week, like Colt had been telling him since then, but his actions in the bar were unbelievable. He was going to fix it, he had to.
Jet hadn't replied to Punk either. She wasn't going to because she was sure her fingers would betray her and type a quick yes before she could even stop them. They couldn't talk, not without him hurting her more so they wouldn't talk at all. She downed another shot of whiskey and started tapping the glass against the counter of the bar, drawing a slightly agitated glare from the barman. She stopped and turned her attention back to the text, hurriedly pressing delete. She refused to fall back into her learned helplessness, the condition that it had taken Corey months to pull her out of. He had been convinced she had PTSD as a result of battered person syndrome – Jet hated that name, hated thinking of herself as a battered woman – and had tried on countless occasions to drag her to a psychiatrist. He had ended up being the only psychiatrist she needed. Until all this shit, anyway. What fucking right did Punk have to make her fall in love with him?
"You got any decent food?" Jet called to the barman where he was wiping down tables.
"You gonna hang around here all day, kid?" he asked instead of replying. It's been two hours already since she showed up.
"You gonna kick me out?"
He chuckled and shrugged. "You gonna cause a problem?"
Jet half-smirked at him. "I'm sitting in a bar in Chicago in the middle of the day on my own. I'm way too miserable to cause a problem."
Jet held a slice of pizza up in front of her face and stared intently at it, her entire focus – what was left of it anyway – on studying every inch of it.
"Cheese is weird, right?" she shot at Tony.
The barman hadn't introduced himself to Jet until after he'd offered her every food item in the bar (which wasn't a lot, admittedly) and she'd turned her nose up at all of them. He sighed but was still putting up with her. When she still whined about being hungry, he relented and called the local pizza place. Jet was surprised when he ordered it in the name of Jet Madden to be delivered to the bar and lifted an eyebrow at him.
"It's kind of unfair that you know my name and I don't know yours."
"Tony," he replied easily, extending his hand. Jet reached out to shake it but her arm wasn't entirely following her orders. Tony leaned further over the bar to help her out and she didn't put down her eyebrow.
"You could've told me you know me."
"I watch TV," he laughed, seeming to think the idea of him not knowing her is more unbelievable. "Didn't want to freak you out."
Thirty minutes later it was Jet who was doing the freaking out. Tony watched her with concern as she turned to stare at him, waiting for an answer to her cheese question. "Er, weird?"
"Yeah! Like, there's a million cheeses and they all taste different but they all taste good and then on pizza it's just magic," she declared reverently. She took a huge bite of the pizza slice and Tony was at least relieved she was getting some food in her body. The amount of alcohol she'd ingested over the past few hours was getting ridiculous and he hoped food would balance her out. Apparently not, juding by her cheese statement. Tony really thought she should have stopped with the booze a while ago but she was an adult and had yet to cause him any actual problems so he supposed he didn't have a real reason to refuse to hand over the Jack that she kept requesting. He was endlessly surprised that the small woman was still stashing it away.
"It's just cheese," Tony shrugged.
"Oh Tony," Jet sighed, as if he'd just let out some dark secrets. "It's never just cheese. Cheese is incredible."
"Yeah, okay. You sure you want to finish that?" he asked, nodding to the bottle still cradled in the curve of her arm.
"Yep, very sure."
Tony nods but thinks about taking it anyhow.
"I paid for it, it's mine," she snapped at him childishly. She'd seen his internal dilemma and refused to let someone else tell her what to do. If she wanted to drink seven damn bottles of whiskey, she would. "If you were me, you'd be drinking this too."
"What's eating ya?" Tony asked as he snatched a piece of pizza from the box. Jet smacked his hand but let him keep it. They were still alone in the bar, just like they have been all afternoon. Jet started to wonder if the place was actually open or if he'd just taken pity on her when she'd pulled up out front.
"Strap in, Tony, this is a heck of a story." And then she just blurted it all out. Not the old stuff, of course, it takes a lot more than throwing back some whiskey to make her spill those secrets, but she told him all about everything that's happened to her ever since she left Florida last summer. It seemed almost a lifetime ago. That forgotten sensible part of her brain told her to stop, that this guy could happily spill all her little secrets to the internet as soon as he wanted, but she kept going. Tony listened with all of his attention, keen to know why a pretty young lady was getting herself drunk in the middle of the day. He nodded along at appropriate moments until Jet talked herself into silence.
"Wow. You've had a busy time."
"Yeah, pretty much. Cheese and Mister Jack Daniels are my best friends right now."
"You're a bit drunk, darlin'."
"Just a bit?" Jet giggled but that quickly turned into full blown hysterics. Tony leaned across the bar to wrap his arm around her back, keeping her from falling off the stool. Her slice of pizza fell back in the box and she nearly slid the Jack Daniels straight off the counter. Tony grabbed that with his other hand in a desperate lunge. When Jet finally calmed down, he leaned back and regarded her with wary eyes.
"Want some advice?"
"Not really."
Tony ignored the answer and finally took the last dregs of the whiskey away. "You should get your ass outta here, go to work, tell your friends you forgive them and call your guy and finally talk about all this shit because it's clearly eating at you and talking usually fixes that."
Tony's intelligent advice went straight over Jet's head as soon as she heard the word 'work'. In all her heartbreak and drunkenness, she'd entirely forgotten herself. It was Monday, she had a match on Raw. "Shit, shit, shit," she muttered immediately, trying to get to her feet and failing. Her legs were as uncooperative as her arms had been earlier. She collapsed against the stool, another bout of giggles overtaking her. Tony rolled his eyes and finally travelled around to her side of the bar, lifting her up straight.
"What are you doing?"
"Going to work," she explained. "I have work. I'm meant to be at work. What's the time?"
"Nearly five."
"Fuck, I'm really meant to be at work."
She stumbled towards the door, her new barman friend following behind with concerned eyes. When she tugged her car keys from her pocket and tried hitting the button to unlock it, quite unsuccessfully, Tony immediately shook his head. "Hell no. You're not driving in this state, what's wrong with you?"
Jet stared at him, looking confused for a moment. "Yeah, you're probably right," she agreed. She was far worse right now that the night before and there was absolutely no way she could drive a car like this. She'd either kill herself or someone else and that didn't bear thinking about.
"Stay still, I'll call a cab."
Jet nodded and leaned against the bricks, taking deep breaths. All that movement made her feel ridiculously nauseous. She had no idea how she was going to even make it to the locker room, let alone get out to the ring. She'd fucked up. Again.
Monday Night Raw
Allstate Arena – Chicago, Illinois
The cab took her straight to the back entrance of the Allstate, thankfully keeping her out of the eye of any lurking fans. Jet hadn't figured out how the hell she was going to explain this to Paul and Stephanie. Her nausea was building, but it was less about the alcohol intake now and more about the realisation that she was likely going to be fired for this. She has broken one of the most important safety rules the company had and it was going to cost her the job she'd always dreamed of.
"Well done Juliette, you're a fucking moron," she muttered to herself. The fear was sobering her up by the second, despite the amount of whiskey swimming in her system. She was sure she could smell herself sweating Jack. She half wished Punk was there so she could have a private locker room to hide in, but she quickly forced herself to think of something, anything but him. When she finally stumbled through the door, with her brain still not quite in full control of her limbs, she searched desperately for someone to help her. She definitely needed help right now because she couldn't do much for herself in such a wobbly state.
"Oh my God, I've been so worried about you!"
AJ's words were like music to Jet's ears. She turned to smile weakly at her best friend as she came barreling down the corridor, throwing herself at the taller woman. It completely ruined the last of Jet's dwindling balance, sending them both sprawling to the floor. AJ looked horrified and quickly jumped up.
"Shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"
"No," Jet replied softly. It had nothing to do with the sudden fall and everything to do with the crippling fear and shame at what she'd done that day. "I'm gonna get fired," she moaned pitifully.
AJ's eyes narrowed in confusion as she leaned down to pull Jet to her feet. The stagger was enough to fill AJ in and her eyes went from concerned to furious in a heartbeat. "Are you drunk?!" she screeched.
Jet desperately slammed her hand down over AJ's mouth, praying no one heard that. "Quiet!"
"You are! How could you be so fucking stupid?"
Jet had been asking herself that same question since she'd all but fallen into the cab outside Tony's bar. "I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm so sorry."
AJ's eyes lost some of their anger at the sight. With a heaving sigh, she wrapped her arm around Jet's waist and helped her walk down the corridor. "The locker room's empty, we'll figure this out."
Jet's first port of call was the bathroom. She laid her head on the porcelain and looked as pitiful as she felt. AJ called Claudio, knowing she needed some back-up. This was a whole new situation to her and if they didn't figure something out then Jet really would be losing her job. When the Swiss man entered, his face visibly relaxed.
"You silly girl," he said softly, stroking Jet's hair. "Stop running away."
"Sorry," Jet murmured again, still feeling like she'd be sick at any moment.
"She's drunk," AJ told him bluntly, the anger back in full force. Claudio's expression soon matched it.
"You have to be joking. You have a match tonight!" he exclaimed, waving his hands in Jet's face. She didn't need reminding of that.
"I fucked up. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do."
AJ scrubbed a hand down her face while Claudio paced the room, both of them desperately trying to think.
"We could say she's sick," Claudio suggested to AJ. "Too sick to wrestle. They don't need to know it's alcohol related."
"Anyone who comes within three feet can smell the booze on her. They'll know in a heartbeat. She either has to be able to get out there and fake it, or we're going to have to tell Stephanie the truth."
"Don't," Jet pleaded desperately. "I can wrestle, I'll do it."
AJ turned such a cold stare on her that Jet shrank back. She hadn't been on the receiving end of one of those in years. "Don't be even more fucking stupid than you already have been. You're not just putting your own life at risk going out there, you'll be putting Nattie's in risk too." That seemed to spark a question in the short woman. "Holy fuck, did you drive here?"
At least Jet's innocent of that. "No. Tony called me a cab."
"Who the fuck is Tony?" AJ asked, looking even more horrified if that were possible.
"The bartender."
"Oh great, I'm glad you made a good friend while you were fucking up your career!"
"April, hysterics aren't going to help anyone right now," Claudio tried to reason. He was just as angry at Jet's lack of thought as she was but they had to think carefully.
"I don't know, yelling sure seems to be helping me," AJ shot back.
"I know someone who can help," Claudio said. Jet looked at him desperately, not wanting to get anyone else involved. The more people who knew, the greater the chance of it all getting back to management. She was still clinging to the hope that she could somehow salvage the night. Claudio stroked Jet's hair again to ease her fears. "I'll be back in a moment."
AJ didn't say anything when the Swiss Superman left, staring hard at Jet the entire time. "I'm sorry," Jet muttered again, hoping if she said it enough times her best friend would forgive her. AJ just grunted then turned her attention to the door to make sure no one unexpected walked in. The person Claudio dragged back was certainly unexpected.
Zeb trailed behind him with a severely bemused expression on his face. "Claudio, I really must insist you tell me what on earth is going on here."
"Juliette needs some help."
Zeb turned his attention to the young woman still curled around the toilet and lifted an eyebrow. "I'm not a doctor."
"She doesn't need a doctor, she needs someone to sober her up."
Zeb's eyes widened just a little at that but he didn't start yelling at her like AJ did. Jet appreciated that. "Sober? I can do sober." Without another word he disappeared back out of the room. Jet turned her attention back to the toilet, prepared to throw up at any moment, while AJ and Claudio kept their eyes trained on her. AJ's hadn't lost any of their anger. Jet was a little scared that if she made it through tonight her best friend was going to murder her. She probably deserved it.
Zeb returned almost ten minutes later with a tray from catering. On it he had a cup of coffee, a bottle of water, two cheeseburgers, and a tall glass filled with a liquid of a disgusting looking orange-brown colour. He set it all down on the floor and turned to Jet.
"Right, first things first. Drink this," he ordered, thrusting to mystery glass in Jet's face. She took it cautiously and sniffed.
"Oh my God, what is this? It smells vile."
"That, my dear, is a Red Eye – coffee, Tabasco, raw egg, pepper and orange juice. Drink it all down," he encourages.
Ironically, Jet's first thought was that she hated orange juice. "I don't want it," she whined, trying to hand it back. AJ's glare froze her.
"You will drink the whole damn thing and you will drink it now."
Jet just nodded dumbly, clamping two fingers over her nose so she could get through this as painlessly as possible. With a grimace and a quiet moan, she threw it back and tried not to let the foul taste put her off. As soon as she gets it down, it comes straight back up, Zeb's concoction meeting the pizza and booze from earlier. When Jet is finally finished throwing up, Claudio passed her some tissue and the bottle of water.
"Phase one complete," Zeb announced.
"You gave me that to make me throw up? Jesus, I could have just stuck my fingers down my throat." As gross as it seems, it's still better than the garbage she'd just put in her mouth. Still, she felt a little better now that the nausea was gone.
"Here, coffee."
Jet gulped that down much more willingly. While the caffeine did its work, Zeb pushed the rest of the tray onto Jet's lap, instructing her to eat both burgers and drink the rest of the water. Jet did as she was told, keen not to get another frosty glare from AJ. When she'd finished, Zeb took the tray back and smiled.
"That should do the trick. Jump in a cold shower and you should at least be something close to sober." Zeb still didn't make any judgements on her and Jet felt another surge of appreciative love for the older man. He patted Claudio's shoulder and smiled at AJ before leaving.
Jet turned her attention back to her two friends, smiling nervously at them. "I feel better."
"I should fucking hope so."
Yep, AJ was still mad. "I can wrestle," Jet carried on. "I won't kill anyone, or myself."
AJ rolled her eyes while Claudio smiled tightly. "Good," he said. "Take your shower and get ready, the show will be starting soon."
He took AJ by the elbow, forcing her out so Jet could shower in peace. When the cold water has worked its magic, Jet felt much more alert and in control of herself that she had all day. With a towel wrapped tightly around her body and her hair hanging down her back, Jet stepped out and smiled when she saw her gym bag sitting by the door. Even if AJ was pissed, she looked out for her. She dried her hair and pulled on her ring gear quickly, praying she'd still feel this good when she got to the ring. The combination of AJ's anger, Jet's fear, and Zeb's help had her feeling as sober as she thought she could get. Part of her was still worried about going out there at all. She and Nattie certainly weren't anything close to friends but Jet wouldn't forgive herself if she did the woman any harm because her head wasn't together. She'd already done herself harm in that way.
AJ only came back when Jet had ten minutes left before her match and escorted her to gorilla. It was silent until they made it there. "If you can't do it, just quick finish," she said calmly, trying to reign in her anger. AJ knew she was justified in her initial reaction to Jet's reckless behaviour but still, this was her best friend and she needed some support.
"I will," Jet nodded. "Do I look okay?"
AJ leaned forward for a moment then nodded. Jet's pupils were back to regular size and the shower had rid her of the stench of alcohol. "You're still an idiot but you look like an idiot who can get through the next ten minutes without inadvertently causing an accident."
Jet smiled and got her nod from a runner, heading out to the ring.
AJ had jinxed it as soon as the words left her lips. Jet should have known it then, but it wasn't until she was rounding out the match with Natalya – and it had gone shockingly well so far considering one of the women had been drunk as a sailor just a few hours earlier – that it happened. Natalya was supposed to lift Jet in the air and drop her face first against the turnbuckle, leaving Jet able to use her body strength to grab the ropes and springboard over Natalya, then lay her out for the Jetstream. As Natalya lifted Jet's much smaller body into the air, Jet tried to put her hands out but she wasn't fast enough. She didn't know if it was because of the alcohol or if her reflexes just weren't on her side at that moment. Her hands finally caught hold of the ropes but it was at a different angle than she had intended, making her lunge her whole body forward. When her forehead hit the cornerpost, light swam in her eyes and she felt just as lacking in body control as she had when she left the bar.
Just finish the match. Just finish the match, she chanted to herself, trying desperately to clear the fuzziness in her brain. Nattie could tell immediately that Jet's head was swimming. The end of their match needed some tweaking and she took that upon herself, grabbing Jet for a suplex then muttered in her ear to reverse into a DDT. With the Canadian woman laid out, Jet climbed to the top turnbuckle on slow and shaky legs. This felt worse than being drunk, definitely. Jet hit a slightly sloppier version of the Jetstream and got the pin, stumbling up the ramp as she blinked rapidly. AJ was standing exactly where she had been seven minutes before and grabbed Jet tightly before she could fall over.
Northwestern Memorial Hospital
Chicago, Illinois
"I really don't want to do this," Jet whimpered pitifully as AJ filled in the necessary paperwork for her in the hospital waiting room. As soon as Stephanie had rushed to gorilla with Doctor Andrews in tow, Jet had been sent to the hospital for an MRI. She didn't think it was necessary but there was no arguing with the boss.
"I really don't care," AJ replied easily, not looking up from what she was writing. Jet still didn't entirely understand how the American medical care system worked; all she knew was that they had taken her money on way too many occasions. She longed for her free care back home. "I'm not letting you walk around with an undiagnosed brain injury."
"So you're not still mad at me?"
"Oh, I'm still very mad at you. You deserve it."
"I know."
"But I'm also still your best friend. I don't want to see you hurting yourself," AJ explained gently, finally looking Jet in the face.
Jet sighed. She was pretty good at the self-destruction thing, she'd been doing it for a long time. She leaned across to lay her head on AJ's shoulder, frowning deeply. "I hate MRIs. They scare the crap outta me."
"I know." AJ and Punk basically had to wrestle Jet into her last one, a couple of months after she'd joined the roster and had hit her head on the canvas. The enclosed space freaked her out and even closing her eyes didn't help. AJ had stood in the room with her the entire time, holding on to Jet's foot to remind her that she was there. She had a feeling she'd have to do the same again. "Sit still, I'm gonna go give this back," AJ ordered, standing up with the paperwork in hand to take back to the desk.
It was only a ten minute wait after that for Jet's name to be called. The radiographer didn't seem like a particularly patient man when he instructed Jet to get into scrubs ready for the scan. AJ stepped aside with him momentarily, requesting to go in there with her. The radiographer didn't have time for that, shaking his head.
"No, I'm afraid you'll have to wait out here."
AJ blinked. She'd never had a problem going in the room before. "Seriously? She gets freaked out in there."
"You can't come in," the radiographer stated clearly. AJ sighed and shook her head at Jet. The younger woman's eyes widened in fear as the assistance instructed her to lay down on the bed that would take her into the MRI machine.
"I'll be right out here the whole time," AJ promised, losing every bit of anger she'd held at the sight of her best friend's terrified face. "It'll be over before you know it."
Jet nodded in an attempt to alleviate AJ's concern for her, but she knew she wouldn't be alright. There was something about these machines that she had never been able to handle, and she didn't see herself starting now. With no other way out of it – because Stephanie certainly wouldn't let her back near a ring until she got the confirmation – Jet laid down and let the assistant put headphones on her and then strap her head down. The assistant was infinitely more friendly than the radiographer, offering Jet a small smile as she placed a remote in her left hand.
"Press that if you need help," she told her, loud enough for Jet to hear through the headphones.
She nodded as much as she could then watched the assistant leave the room with a growing feeling of dread. When the bed moved back into the machine, Jet felt her breathing getting more erratic. This happened every time unless someone stayed with her. She made a quick mental note to throw something at the radiographer on the way out. As the thudding began around her head, Jet made desperate attempts to keep calm while keeping still. She was a nervous wreck and it was probably visible. With heaving breaths, Jet considered pressing the panic button that the assistant had given her but thought better of it. If she did that, they'd just have to start over again and it would mean even longer in this damn machine. With her heart hammering in her chest and her eyes pinched tightly closed, Jet tried again to calm herself. The walls of the machine seemed so close, too close, and she couldn't handle it. Then, just as she was really thinking about pressing the button, she felt a hand on her shin. It was likely one of the assistants who had noticed her distress but it calmed Jet immediately. She let her muscles loosen and relaxed into the touch.
Punk had debated about watching Raw all day. He'd seen the rumours of his return in the Allstate Arena and felt a pang of guilt for those fans who had been eagerly awaiting his comeback since the day his split from the company had become news. He was enjoying being in one place for more than two days and not having to put his body through hell was undoubtedly pleasant, but wrestling was all he had known for so long. He wanted to go back, he just couldn't yet. Not until things were better.
He ended up turning the TV on, his own music being the first thing he heard. He felt the guilt return at the excitement evident on the faces of those in the crowd. When Paul Heyman appeared, Punk had to chuckle. His old mentor hadn't told him anything about this but Punk appreciated a great promo when he heard one and Paul's was undoubtedly brilliant. As usual. Not much of the rest of the show grabs his interest, besides Rollins abandoning his Shield teammates. The screen telling him that Jet would be wrestling Natalya after the break was the only thing that prompted him to keep his television on.
As soon as she made her way down the ramp Punk knew something wasn't right. She looked even worse than she had the night before, the night when he had so callously taken the feelings he knew she had and ripped them to pieces. That pang of guilt was back and much stronger. She had ignored his text that morning so Punk knew he had no option but to go and see her when the show was finished. AJ told him they weren't leaving for Detroit until the morning, so Punk figured he could ambush Jet in her hotel room if he had to. All he really knew was that he had to talk to her and explain everything, and let her do the same. They'd be on better terms by the time she left for Michigan, he was certain of that.
But seeing her now, looking so shaky in the ring with Natalya, left Punk a little worried. He hadn't watched all the shows that he'd missed being on, but he'd seen enough to know Jet wasn't at her best in the ring. But that was still nothing compared to this. She didn't even look like her head was in the same building. When her grip on the ropes slipped and her head collided with the cornerpost, Punk jumped to his feet reflexively. She continued and he hoped that meant it looked worse than it was, but the ridiculous looking Jetstream told him she'd hurt herself enough to throw everything off.
Without even thinking, he pulled his shoes and jacket on, grabbing his phone as he went.
Which hospital? he sent to AJ immediately. Punk knew Stephanie would send Jet to get checked out, especially considering the way she had all but fallen up the ramp. He knew Jet wouldn't answer his question but AJ would be with her and she would. He hoped, anyway.
AJ read the text just as she was bundling Jet into the passenger seat of the car. She considered ignoring it, especially considering how badly the night before had gone – and Claudio still hadn't forgiven her and Nick for it – but, even with all her hesitations, AJ couldn't stand to see Jet leave the city without at least talking to him.
Northwestern. We're going for an MRI, she replied quickly, sliding her phone away before Jet could notice.
The traffic on the way to the hospital was ridiculous. Punk tapped his hands rapidly on the steering wheel, feeling road rage boiling. Everything was taking too long. He knew Jet's fear of the MRI would get her in a state and he hoped AJ could cover it until he got there. When he finally pulled into the hospital parking lot, he practically dived into the entrance, bypassing reception in favour of following the signs to the radiology department. He heard AJ's voice before he saw them.
"Seriously? She gets freaked out in there."
"You can't come in." Punk didn't recognise that voice so it had to be the guy responsible for getting Jet's images taken. What a douchebag.
"I'll be right out here the whole time," AJ promised just as Punk was turning the corner. Punk couldn't see Jet in the room but he knew she must have been horrified. "It'll be over before you know it."
AJ stood back, moving just in time to see Punk come barreling around. He didn't spare a look, instead heading straight for the door.
"No," the radiographer said clearly. "You can't go in."
Punk didn't have time for this. She was in there alone and likely freaking out. He wasn't just going to stand out here and let her have a panic attack on her own. "Well I am," he shrugged, attempting to get through again.
"It's not safe for you to go in there," the guy continued to argue, giving Punk's clothes a look over. "There's metal all over you."
"Well get me scrubs then," Punk ordered as if it were common sense. "I'm going in there even if I have to go in my underwear." The radiographer gave him a stony look but Punk stood his ground. He was clearly much less willing to argue the matter with Punk than he was with the petite AJ.
With a frustrated sigh, the radiographer requested another set of scrubs for Punk. He took them and hurriedly kicked off his shoes and jeans, wanting to get in there as soon as possible. AJ gave him a grateful smile and he nodded back, tugging the medical wear on. Without waiting for the go ahead, Punk pushed into the door and frowned at Jet's tense posture. Trying not to startle her, he laid his hand on her shin. He felt her relax and smiled to himself. He didn't move for the remainder of the fifteen minute MRI and Jet didn't have to press her panic button.
"Okay, it's all over," a voice from the observation room announced. Jet relaxed even more. The radiographer didn't reappear, either pissed off or scared of Punk, leaving the rest up to the assistants.
"Just step back and I'll bring her out," one of them smiled.
Punk finally let go of Jet's leg, moving out of the way so she could be released from the machine. Her eyes stayed firmly closed as they took the headphones and panic button away, then released her head. Punk grinned when her eyes opened and she laid eyes on him.
Jet froze. Halfway through sitting up, she froze in place and stared at him. How was he even there? She turned to see AJ in the doorway with Punk's clothes in her arms, smiling a little hesitantly. Jet scowled, really started to wish her friends would stop butting in. She was half tempted to just lay back down on the MRI bed and stay in the hospital. It seemed a lot more appealing than the conversation that AJ clearly wanted her to have with Punk. She didn't have anything to say to him, nothing that was for him to hear. She wanted him to leave her alone and let her heal again.
"Hey," he greeted softly, suddenly looking much less sure of himself.
She didn't reply. She got to her feet and returned to the room where she had changed into her scrubs, slamming the door loudly to give both of them the clear message. They both stood outside while Jet changed, glancing nervously at each other. Punk hadn't seen her like this before; she'd been pissed at him on a lot of occasions, but never like this. When she emerged again, she wouldn't look at him.
"Can we go?" she shot at AJ.
"We have to wait for the results," her friend murmured in reply, scared of the look in Jet's eyes.
"I'm not waiting here with him."
That felt like a punch in the gut for Punk. He knew he'd fucked up but he surely deserved a chance to explain himself. She'd hurt him just the same, he just needed a chance to explain that. "Juliette – " he tried but was cut off swiftly.
"Please." Her eyes were full of tears and Punk wanted to reach out to her. "Please just go. I can't hear it all again. I can't do this again."
AJ called it all to an end there. Her meddling hasn't worked thus far and now it's reduced Jet to an almost crying heap in the hallway of a hospital. She had to put what she thinks is best to the side and consider what Jet needs right now. "Phil, maybe now's not the best time. Go home, I'll call you later."
Punk wanted to argue, he wanted to stand there and argue with both of them until Jet finally sees sense and listens to him, but something in him just froze and he can do nothing but nod. "I'm sorry," he choked out, not quite sure what specifically he was apologising for. His hand hovered in the air, wanting to touch her and pull her close, but it dropped and he turned on his heel, heading back the way he'd come.
As soon as he was out of sight, Jet choked back a sob and AJ's arms circled around her.
They had to wait just over an hour for the MRI results. It was an hour spent mostly in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. AJ knew there was so much more to this entire situation than just what had happened in the bar last night. Jet was truly terrified of letting Punk anywhere close to her and that set AJ's mind whirring. She had one idea but she didn't like thinking about it and couldn't even bear to voice it to Jet. So they sat in silence instead, waiting for the radiography assistant to come out and tell them that Jet's MRI had showed no signs of concussion or any other brain injury so she was free to go.
The drive back to the Allstate was just as quiet. Jet fiddled with the radio for a little while before settling on a quiet station and leaning back in her seat to stare out of the window. She kind of hates Chicago right then, despite all her old awesome memories with Shimmer. Everything that happened in barely over a week has left her with nothing but resentment for the city. She almost can't believe that it's only been eight days since everything started falling apart.
Raw had finished and the crowd had dispersed but Stephanie and Paul were still there, overseeing the packing up process.
"Hey," Stephanie greeted, seeing the two of them approaching. "How did it go?"
Before Jet had a chance to answer, AJ jumped in, "Mild concussion. Nothing to worry about but they said she shouldn't really do anything strenuous for a week."
Stephanie frowned but it wasn't anything that would cause too much of a problem. There was Smackdown in Detroit and then three house shows before Raw in Tennessee the next week but Jet could be kept off those easy enough. "You should probably head home," the boss smiled. "Get some rest, heal up, and we'll see you raring to go in Memphis."
Jet didn't even have the energy to argue. She just nods at Stephanie and lets AJ steer her back to the car just as swiftly as they had re-entered the building. "Why did you tell her that?" she finally murmured when she was sitting in the passenger seat again.
"Because you need to go home. You're not safe here, for yourself or anyone else. Just go home, think things through and try to figure stuff out. Don't worry about anything else. I'm sure Graves can help." AJ knew Corey knew things that none of the others could even dream of knowing. She didn't know what it was about the two of them or why they'd been drawn to each other in their first days of FCW but she was glad there was at least one person who could help Jet put herself back together.
"Okay." Jet usually would have fought to keep herself on the road, the place that usually kept her mind off everything else, but she was so tired in so many ways and knew being home would the only thing that would help.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Orlando International Airport
Orlando, Florida
It was the early hours of the morning but Corey had thought nothing of getting up and driving from Tampa to meet Jet off her flight. As soon as he'd heard her voice on the other end of the phone, he knew something was wrong. He'd seen her smack her head on Raw and had assumed she'd been sent home for her health but the quiet tone of voice told him otherwise. Corey had known Jet to be suspended from ringwork only two times during their entire time together at FCW and NXT. Both times she'd sworn like a sailor, declaring that they didn't have the right to stop her. If her coming home was an injury lay-off, she'd have been much angrier.
Jet took her time getting through the airport, not keen on having to explain to Corey everything that had happened since he'd last seen her, barely four days ago. He'd be upset for her and she didn't want to cause that.
"Hey kid," he greeted when he finally got sight of her. He tugged her in for a side hug and smiled as warmly as he could. "You missed the sun, right?"
"Yeah," Jet agreed weakly. "Can we go home?" she asked, looking up at him desperately.
Corey's eyes narrowed just for a moment, as he saw something that he hadn't seen in two years. "Yeah, of course," he agreed.
Coming up on 60 hours with no sleep, Jet finally took AJ's and Corey's advice and went to the doctor. Corey had dropped her off at her apartment with the promise that he'd come over for dinner, but Jet texted him to cancel. She told the doctor everything and it felt like a pile of bricks had been lifted from her chest. With a sympathetic smile and a pat on the arm, the doctor wrote out a prescription and Jet clung onto it like a life force. The doctor had given her clear instructions for the medication, one would help for what she was saying was depression (but Jet refused to call it that herself) and the other would help her sleep. It wasn't to be used for too long but Jet just needed something to tide her over, something to get her on course.
After she'd picked both boxes of medication up from the pharmacy, she drove the familiar route to Corey's house in Tampa. She grabbed the pills and took the stairs quickly, using her key to let herself in. Corey looked up but didn't seem surprised by her appearance. He didn't ask about the medicine in her hand, not when he could see her look so tired. That could wait until tomorrow.
"Hey," he greeted with as much of a regular smile as he could manage.
"Hi. Can I sleep here tonight?"
"You know you can."
That night, tucked up in Corey's bed with his arms wrapped around her, protecting her from everything that had plagued her thoughts for too long, Jet let the pill for its work and finally fell asleep.
I promise that things will get better for Punk and Jet soon. She's just got a few issues she needs to work through first before they can have anything resembling a healthy relationship. Anyway, let me know what you guys think!