Chapter 26: Finishing the Job
Elektra drifted in and out of consciousness, the world reappearing in flashes of light and sound. There was a low white ceiling above her, its smooth surface broken up by the forms of people bending over her. Elektra licked her lips, trying to speak. "Dave...where's Dave?" Her voice emerged as a barely audible whisper.
One of the strange figures finally registered in her memory banks. Trish's pretty face was marred by sober concern. "Shh...don't try to talk," the Women's Champion answered soothingly. "It's okay; they're taking you to the hospital right now. You're going to be fine."
"But where's Dave?" Elektra interjected, trying to sit up. The action was quickly thwarted by several sets of hands. "Where is he, Trish?"
Trish looked away, biting her lip. "You're going to be fine," she repeated.
Elektra lapsed back into unconsciousness before she could ask any more questions.
The next thing she knew, bright light was pressing against her eyelids. Elektra slowly opened them, shutting them again almost instantly. After so much time in darkness, the pale radiance of indoor light was blinding. Peeking cautiously through her eyelashes, she allowed her eyes to adjust and opened them all the way again, taking in her surroundings.
She was in an unfamiliar room, the walls a sterile beige, the floor a scuffed linoleum. Blue hospital drapes separated her from the rest of the room, which, judging by the murmur of voices and the steady beep of machinery, was not unoccupied. Elektra was resting on a hospital bed, the headrest elevated for her. An IV line snaked from her arm to a small bag suspended above the bed. Whoever had placed her here had also taken the time to dress her in a white hospital gown.
Elektra shifted slightly, and winced as pain shot through her body. Everything ached; even her hair hurt. The focal points of her agony seemed to be her head, neck and back. Not surprising, since she had survived a full-scale Batista Bomb.
Just the memory of the attack made tears spring to Elektra's eyes, but she tried to hold them back; as therapeutic as it may be, it would also hurt like hell. How could Batista do that to her? After all his promises, after all his assurances, he'd not only failed to protect her from Triple H...he'd failed to protect her from himself. Even in his deepest rage, he should have known, should have felt something that signaled he was about to make a terrible mistake. But instead, he had thrown her down onto the canvas, as though she were nothing more than another one of Evolution's "enemies".
But as much Elektra blamed Batista for what he had done, she blamed herself even more. She shouldn't have kissed Orton, first of all, but she also should have been able to reach Batista, to calm the Animal somehow. However, it seemed that not even love could soothe the savage beast when he was enraged. Because of his doubt, because of her own stupidity, the one thing that had kept her buoyant during her times of despair was gone. Fractured the moment her lips touched Orton's; broken the second her body met canvas.
Elektra tried to swallow, but her mouth felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton. Her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She gingerly turned her head to the side, ignoring the bolts of pain shooting down her neck, hoping to see a pitcher of water nearby.
It was then that she noticed the figure sitting in a chair next to the bed.
Randy Orton had donned a pair of sweatpants and one of his black "RKO" shirts. His face was sporting a large welt over one eye, a gash on his left cheek, and a split lip. From the way he was perched on the chair, he obviously had some abdominal injuries as well. Elektra didn't know what to think when she saw him. The beating he had suffered had been indirectly because of her, so why would he come to sit at her bedside? Orton must have sensed her staring, because he glanced up.
"Hey," he said softly. "Welcome back to the world of the living."
Elektra groaned. "Ummm...don't remind me." She tried to sit up, and quickly thought better of it. "Ow."
Orton chuckled, but it was gentle, friendly. "I'm not surprised, after that beating you took." He stood up, a little stiffly, and walked the few steps to the edge of her bed. "In case you're wondering...we're at the local hospital in Austin. They checked you out, did some x-rays, the whole nine yards. Don't worry, there's nothing serious; some bruised ribs, bruised vertebrae, not to mention one hell of a concussion." He eyed her critically. "And I wouldn't look in a mirror for a while if I were you."
Elektra closed her eyes briefly. "In other words...this may sting in the morning." She opened them again. "But it's nothing a few bags of ice won't cure."
Orton laughed again, then his face grew sober. "This is all my fault. I should have done something more than lie there and be a punching bag."
"What could you have done?" Elektra replied. ...That wouldn't have made things worse? her mind added.
Orton looked into her eyes. "I could have protected you."
Elektra looked away, studying the folds of the drapes. "That's not your job." she murmured. She glanced back at the Legend Killer, changing the subject. "Has anyone else stopped by."
Orton pondered this for a moment. "Let's see...Trish was here for a while; she dropped off some clothes for you when you check out...the trainer was by...really no one else."
"And Dave?" Elektra couldn't keep the hope out of her voice.
Orton slowly shook his head. "To be honest...I haven't seen him since I left the arena."
Elektra's features sagged, and she turned her head away as tears began to roll down her face. "Randy?" she whispered.
Orton looked at her expectantly. "Yes?"
"I need to be alone for a while," Elektra answered tearfully. "Please...just go away..."
Orton reached out to touch her, but stopped himself and instead walked out of the small curtained alcove. As soon as she sensed he was gone, Elektra dissolved into quiet sobs, the salt of her tears stinging not so much as the pain of her broken heart.
Batista paced back and forth in the parking lot. As soon as he'd managed to pull himself together, he'd thrown some clothes on and sped out to the hospital–only to be stonewalled at the front desk. From the way the nurse was effectively evading his queries, it seemed that someone was trying to make sure he couldn't get in to see Elektra. Or maybe it was just his fevered mind preventing him from asking the right questions. Either way, one thing led to another, and it had resulted in two security personnel 'asking' him to leave. Even though the Animal could have taken on both guards with minimal effort, he'd gritted his teeth instead and left quietly, making sure to stay within range of the double doors. Besides, hadn't he already caused enough mayhem tonight?
Batista's mind was reeling, too pumped full of adrenaline and anguish to allow him to calm down and think clearly. All he knew was that he had to make this right. He had to fix this... or he would lose Elektra forever.
He still couldn't get the memory of Elektra kissing Orton out of his mind. What he had seen when he stepped into the room...it was like a bad dream he couldn't wake up from. The scene had been so different from what he had encountered in the Evolution locker room at Vengeance. Elektra's body molded against Orton's, her hand on his cheek, the way she was kissing him...there was no way anyone could have believed that Orton had tried to assault her less than six months ago. Even though logic was trying to tell him that none of it made sense, that Elektra couldn't possibly have been with Orton because she had been with him every night... Batista couldn't deny what he had seen. And no matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop Triple H's words from festering in his brain. She played us both, Dave...
Right now, however, he didn't care about what the Game had said or why Elektra had kissed Orton. All that mattered was whether she was all right. If he had known that it would play out like this, that he was capable of such brutality, he would have gotten Elektra out of there right away, and allowed himself to take the brunt of the punishment. Any form of physical abuse would have hurt less than the enormous ball of guilt and heartache that was threatening to burst within him.
He heard the hiss of hydraulics as the automatic doors slid open. Batista turned around to see Elektra walking out with Orton. She had on a pair of pajama pants and a zip-up sweatshirt. Even at this distance, her injuries were apparent: she was walking stiffly and leaning against Orton for support. The light from the overhead lamppost illuminated her black eye. She stopped, wincing in pain, and Orton gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders.
Batista's mind was already in overdrive and just seeing them together like this was enough to send him back over the edge. He strode toward the pair angrily. "Hey!" he yelled out. "Get away from her!"
Orton stepped forward, carefully ushering Elektra behind him. "Listen, Dave," he began. "We don't want any trouble–"
Batista grabbed his jacket collar, practically lifting him off the ground. "This is all your fault!" he growled. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't finish the job right now!"
"Dave, stop!" Batista turned in surprise to see Elektra tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away from Orton. "Let him go!" Her voice was quiet, but there was an undercurrent of steel running through it.
Reluctantly, the Animal released Orton, and turned his attention to Elektra. For a moment, neither of them said a word; then, all of a sudden, Elektra pulled back and slapped him across the face.
Batista was too stunned to even dodge the attack. He stared into her grey eyes, at the anger blazing in their pale depths.
Before he could speak, Elektra started talking. "How dare you!" she spat, her voice husky with emotion. "How dare you show up here and start causing trouble again!"
"What's he doing here?" Batista retorted, jamming his thumb in the direction of the Legend Killer.
Elektra glanced over at Orton, but her gaze quickly flicked back over to Batista. "He was there when I woke up...which is more than I can say for you." She was almost livid with anger. The Animal had never seen her this angry.
"Elektra, please, just listen–" Batista began, but it was no use.
"No!" Elektra interrupted. "I'm done listening to you!" She took a step back. "You're a liar, Dave. Ever since the beginning, the one thing you always told me was that you'd protect me, no matter what. But tonight, when you had the opportunity...you couldn't do it. You let Hunter take me out to that ring. You let him beat the shit out of me. And when it finally looked like you were going to step in, you–" She broke off, rather than voice the painful recollection.
Batista lowered his voice, trying not to lose his temper. "I walked in that room and saw you kissing another man. You want to tell me how I should have reacted?"
"I don't know!" Elektra retorted. "Maybe use some common-fucking-sense for once! I've been with you every night, Dave. There is nothing going on between me and Orton!"
"Then why were you kissing him?" Batista shouted.
"I told you, I don't know!" Elektra screamed back. "But let me tell you: what I did doesn't justify what happened to me in that ring!" She shook her head, and her voice grew softer. "You should have known. Something should have gone off in your head–I don't know, a voice, a bell– something should have told you that when you hoisted me up, it was a bad fucking idea!" She backed away even more. "Lita...the others...they were right about you: you are an animal." Elektra stopped, trying to catch her breath. She was close to tears. "Goodbye, Dave." Turning around, she began walking away rapidly.
Batista stopped her, grabbing her arm. "Elektra, wait–" He heard her gasp in pain and immediately let go.
Elektra spun back around. "Don't touch me!" she hissed. "Just stay away from me, Dave! Do us both a favor and forget about me."
Batista felt his heart stop. "No..." he murmured. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. "Please, baby, don't do this–"
"You made me do this!" Elektra replied. "The second you put your hands on me, you should have known this was how it would end." The light from the streetlamps illuminated her eyes, making them glow slightly. "I'm not making the same mistake I did with Hunter; I'm not giving you a second chance to hurt me again." She stared hard at Batista. "You should know better than anyone...I can't love someone if I'm wondering when they're going to lose it." With that, she turned around again and stormed away, turning out of sight beyond a parked SUV.
Batista could only stand, frozen in place, as the woman he loved walked out of his life forever. He pressed his fists to his eyes, the emotion beginning to well up out of him. Elektra had been the one person who could keep the inner Animal at bay. But tonight, because of Triple H, because of his own stupid petty jealousies, not even she had been able to calm him...and instead of becoming his girlfriend, she had become his victim.
Batista wished desperately that he could have the chance to tell her everything; how being with her made him feel like more than just Evolution's cleanup man. With Elektra, he wasn't a beast, he wasn't the Animal, he was just...hers. Now that she was gone, there was nothing left but a square wrestling ring and a never-ending stream of Superstars Triple H had decided to hate. There was no more reason left to feel. Batista didn't think that he had a heart anymore. If he did, then what was this cold hollow spot inside his chest? A tear worked its way out from behind his closed eye, sliding down his cheek and dripping off his chin.
"Aww..." Orton's sarcastic drawl brought the Animal back to reality. Batista brought his head back up; turned to see the Legend Killer smirking at him. "What's the matter, Dave? You gonna cry?"
Batista ground his teeth together furiously. "You arrogant little shit...you're the one she should be running away from."
Orton shook his head. "Not me. See...I wasn't the one power-bombing Divas in front of all of Austin, Texas. And I wasn't the one noticeably absent from Elektra's bedside." He smiled again, and there was something reptilian about it this time. "Funny how you weren't there. It was almost like you couldn't find her or something."
Batista stomped toward Orton, his vision beginning to blur red again. "Son of a bitch–" he roared. Just as he was about to clamp his outstretched hands around the Legend Killer's throat, he was halted by an attack that seemed to come from all sides. Fists slammed into his head, boots caught him in the knees and quads. Batista dropped to his knees, trying to ward off the assault with his arms. But the mysterious assailants proved too much for even the Animal to overcome, and he collapsed on the ground, rolling over onto his back, trying to shake the dizziness from his head. Looking up, he saw the expressionless faces of Chris Jericho, Chris Benoit and Maven.
Orton's taunting voice invaded his ear again. "What? You actually thought I would be dumb enough to come here without any backup? Get him up!" This last part was directed at the other three Superstars. Pausing long enough to get in a few well-placed shots to the ribs, the Rabid Wolverine and the Tough Enough winner hauled Batista up, restraining his arms. Orton stepped in front of the Animal, measuring him up. "I've been waiting a long time for this," he finally said, and struck Batista with a vicious uppercut.
The Animal's head snapped back with the impact. Orton paced back and forth, reining in his emotions. "What you and Evolution did to me...that's nothing compared with what we're going to do to you. You be lucky if you can even crawl to the ring come Survivor Series." Orton paused, and leaned in close, right next to Batista's ear. "But before we do...there's a little secret I'd like to share, a little insult to injury, if you will." His voice dropped to a whisper. "What happened tonight...none of it would have gone down if it hadn't been for me."
Batista's stomach lurched with dread. This wasn't an apology; Orton didn't stoop to apologies, especially if they were directed at any of his former Evolution cohorts. No, what he was saying implied something far more insidious...
Orton chuckled. "Think about it, Dave...you and the Game walking into the room at the exact same time I'm giving your girl the business? That wasn't coincidence; that was genius. A few innuendos to send the two of you running, a little bit of coaxing to get Elektra to let her guard down... it was almost too easy. None of you saw it coming." His smile disappeared, and he straightened up. Seeing that Batista had allowed his gaze to drift to the ground, Orton grabbed his chin, forcing the Animal to look at him. "You really think I was going to just walk away and let you take her? Elektra belongs with me, not some freak of nature." The reptilian smirk reemerged. "I really didn't expect you to take it so far. I assumed you'd be so busy trying to deal with me that you'd forget all about her until it was too late. But Batista-bombing her in the middle of the ring..." The Legend Killer clapped his hands in a one-man show of applause. "You deserve a standing ovation." He leaned in close again. "Thanks to you, I won't have to go through all of that bullshit of getting her to trust me again. After what you did to her, it won't be long before she's asking to sleep over because you have her so freaked out. But she won't be sleeping...if you know what I mean."
Batista struggled in vain, the inner Animal bashing its head against the bars of its cage. "You twisted fuck! You stay away from her, or–"
"Or what, Dave?" Orton interrupted, his face a portrait of perverse delight. "You'll tell her the truth? Don't you get it? After tonight, she's not going to go anywhere near you...and don't forget, I've got some new friends now to watch my back." Stepping back, he kicked Batista in the abdomen, forcing the Animal to double over. "I'm sick of listening to this asshole. Let's finish it."
Elektra leaned against the side of a dark pickup truck, trying to will the lingering pain from her limbs, but also, trying to force the memory of Batista from her heart. She had meant everything she had said back there, but that didn't mean she relished the thought of walking away from the only man she had ever really loved. Tears kept trickling down her face, but she made no move to wipe them away. Their sting reminded her that she was still alive...since her heart had gone numb.
The wind changed, and some faint sounds caught her ears. Normally, Elektra would have ignored them, but at this point, she was anxious to find anything to distract her from her own thoughts. She listened harder. The noises seemed to consist of dull thuds. They were teasingly familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on where she had heard them before. Then she heard a grunt of pain, and the puzzle pieces snapped into place. She should have recognized that particular combination of sounds right away; she had witnessed enough of Evolution's 'business' to know a beat-down when she heard it.
Hesitantly, she walked back toward the entrance to the hospital, taking care to stay in the shadows, behind the protective forms of cars. She reached an SUV, and slowly peeked out around its rear, clapping her hand over her mouth to stifle her gasp of horror.
Orton and his new friends–Jericho, Benoit and Maven–were taking turns assaulting a nearly unconscious Batista. At this moment, Jericho was just finishing up. He stopped, slapped Orton's hand and allowed the Legend Killer to step in. Orton stared the Animal down, then hit him with a straight right punch, knocking Batista back down. Orton pulled his hand back. His knuckles gleamed pinkish-red in the light.
Elektra slowly backed away, retreating into the shadows again. Part of her wanted to stop this, but another part was telling her that Batista deserved this. After all, what had he done to help when Triple H had her helpless in the ring? He should experience what it feels like to have the odds against him. But Elektra couldn't will away her emotional connection with Batista, and as the punches continued, it almost seemed as though they were making contact with her own body.
Batista let out another groan of agony, and the sound of it shot through Elektra's heart like a knife. Yet, she kept retreating, too hurt and too afraid to face a possible second beating. As she fled from the carnage, Elektra wondered if, by siding with Orton, she had just placed herself in an even more dangerous relationship than her one with Triple H.