Stephanie was a little tempted to invite Chris up to Hunter's room with her, but thought better of it. If Hunter, even in his drowsy state, saw Chris there, he might interrogate Chris, and that just wouldn't do. So she grabbed the keycard Chris was holding and stood up to face him. She took his face in her hands and languidly kissed him, letting her lips linger on his, her tongue brushing along the bottom edge of his lip.

"Thank you," she told him, her voice dripping with sincerity. She wanted Chris to know she really did appreciate everything he did for her. She wasn't a normal person, she didn't want normal things or a normal life, but Chris continuously rolled with the punches, and not only that, he loved her through all of it. She didn't deserve him, and this was coming from a woman who believed she deserved the world.

"You don't have to—"

"No, Chris Jericho, don't pull that tired, old stunt on me," Stephanie shook her head, her hair fanning around her face, falling in way that was so achingly familiar. She was wearing a wig, and the nostalgia hit Chris like a falling piano. He knew why Stephanie had to hide her looks, but sometimes he missed her, the her that first captivated his senses. "You know I fucking love you and all you do for me."

He shrugged carelessly. "He tried to tear us apart, there is nothing in the world I wouldn't do to him at this point, believe me."

She nodded, knowing there was no more need for words. She started to walk away, but Chris grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her back, kissing her again. She let herself fall into it. They'd given Hunter enough Tylenol PM to have him be groggy for a little while so she let herself indulge in the expertise that was Chris's kiss. She'd never been kissed until Chris it seemed. Great, now she was getting all sappy.

"I've got to go," she told him, extricating herself gently from his arms. If she stayed any longer, she was afraid she'd give into the emotion threatening to spill forth from deep within her. She didn't do sappy, she couldn't, she just…it was like there was something incapable of it that prevented her from falling victim to overwhelming feelings.

"Okay, be safe, alright, if things get tricky or weird, just leave, we can think of something else."

"I know," she nodded. He squeezed her wrists gently before letting her go. She took a deep breath and slunk out of the hotel room. It was late so she figured she wouldn't run into anyone. Even so, she decided to take the stairs, just to be safe. The elevator was too unpredictable. Anyone could be on it when the doors opened, and anyone could be waiting for it when you wanted to step off. The stairs at least provided her with a little cover.

She went down the three floors to Hunter's room, slowly opening the door and peering out into the deserted hallway. Waiting a few moments to make sure nobody walked back, she scurried down the hallway until she saw his room number, slipping the card in gently as she opened the door and disappeared inside. The room was quiet save for Hunter's snoring. She rolled her eyes at the habit she'd hated the entire time she'd been with him.

Sauntering inside, she went into the bathroom, closing the door and checking on her appearance. She giggled breathlessly as she realized her wig was slightly askew. She took the time to make sure it was straight, then looked at her outfit. She wanted to look almost ethereal so she'd chosen a long, white skirt with a white blouse. Angelic? Perhaps, but that was kind of what she was going for. When she was happy with her appearance, she walked back out, standing in the doorway, the light from the bathroom illuminating her from behind.

Hunter was sleeping on his side, or maybe he wasn't sleeping. His eyes appeared to be slight slits, just barely open, like he was valiantly trying to fight sleep, but it just wasn't working. She almost felt pity for him in that moment, but as soon as that feeling came, she was pelted with her feelings of loneliness and isolation when Hunter had turned Chris against her. She suddenly felt no remorse whatsoever. Instead, she was filled with the intense hatred she'd been carrying around for the better part of two years.

"Hunter," she whispered, just loud enough to where he might not hear her.

"Hmm," he mumbled incoherently, his eyes fluttering, trying hard to open wider, but failing.

"Hunter," she said a little louder, then giggled.

This time, Hunter fought even harder to open his eyes and when he looked at her groggily, his breath stunted. "Stephanie? Is that you?"

"Uh huh," she told him.

"I'm hallucinating," he muttered to himself. "You're not real. You're not here, I'm hallucinating like Chris said."

"Is that what you think? You think I'm just a figment of your imagination?" Stephanie asked, standing her ground and not going over to him just yet. There'd be time for that soon enough.

"Yes, you're not here, you're not real. You're dead." His speech was slurred from the drugs and from sleep, making him nearly incoherent, but his voice was getting louder the more he thought she was just a vision in his mind's eye.

"Are you sure? I seem real, don't I?" she asked him.

"But you're not," he shook his head and found it heavy. He tried to sit up, but it just wasn't working. The alcohol felt like it was pounding against his skull in waves. He closed his eyes. "You're not here."

But when he opened his eyes, of course she was there. Standing there, bathed in light. She was so beautiful. "Hunter…"

"No, no, no," he tried pulling himself up again. He managed to get himself into a seated position, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He looked up at her. "You are not real. I saw you die, I saw you die."

"Oh, Hunter, my poor, poor Hunter," Stephanie said, taking a step closer to him.

"No, stop!" Hunter held up his hand in front of himself, stopping her in his tracks. "I'm hallucinating. She's not real. She will never be real. I need help. I just need help. I need to get some help."

Stephanie took this as her cue to get even closer. She'd nearly doused herself in her old perfume and she knew Hunter was familiar with the scent. Hunter looked up at her, his eyes still heavy, but still fighting to keep them open. He swayed a little as he watched her. She stopped a few feet in front of him, looking down at him like some sort of heavenly creature sent from above. Her hair was shiny and just the way he liked it, and her face was not marred by death.

"You're so beautiful…"

"You always did have beautiful things to say to me," she nearly gagged on the words, but this was what she had to do. She had to be convincing.

"Why did you leave me?" he asked, his voice laced with unbidden sadness. "Why didn't you stay?"

"I'm right here," she told him.

"You're not, I'm going crazy. I think so…Chris thinks so, I think everyone thinks so. They all think I'm crazy, and if I tell them I see you, that I talk to you, they're going to think I'm crazy."

Stephanie crouched down in front of hi so she could try and meet his eye line. He didn't look at her so she just stared at his bowed head. "What if you weren't crazy? What if I was right here?"

"You're not though. You didn't call me."

"Maybe I did call you."

"You're dead, you can't call me, dead people can't use the phone," he said, shaking his head. "God, I've got to get you out of my mind. I've got to get you out of here, you've got to get out of my head, my brain feels so fuzzy, it's just the alcohol, God, I haven't drank that much in forever. I'm so tired, I'm going to go to sleep. When I wake up, I won't be crazy."

"Hunter."

"Stop," he said in agony, trying valiantly to keep away from her. Stephanie wasn't having that though and decided it was time.

She tentatively reached out for him, placing her hand on his knee. She heard him gasp in shock as he felt her touch. His head shot up and he looked straight at her. The fog of the alcohol and the sleeping aid was still making him hazy. He didn't know what was real anymore. Her touch felt so real. Her face looked so real; she seemed so solid. But it just wasn't possible. None of this was possible. It was alcohol dreams, that's all this was. His brain was conjuring her up, making her real because he wanted so desperately for her to be with him.

"Oh God," he swayed and fell against the bed. He closed his eyes again, "Not real, not real, not real…"

Stephanie bit her lip to keep from laughing. He must still think he was drunk. This was even better than she'd anticipated. He wasn't believing her, instead believing he was just hallucinating, going crazy without her. It wasn't going to work though, Stephanie was going to make sure of that. She had to make sure Hunter believed he was honestly going crazy.

She reached out and touch his cheek. "I'm real, I'm here, Hunter."

"No, you can't be, you just can't, Stephanie, why are you torturing me?"

"I'm not dead, I'm right here, you can hear me, can't you? You can feel me, can't you? How can I be dead if I'm right here?" she wondered, touching his face lightly. Hunter blinked a few times, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion. He could feel her warm touch against his skin, could almost feel her heartbeat through her wrist as it gently caressed his stubbly chin.

"You're real," he sobbed, sitting up woozily, but falling right back down.

"Shh, shh, easy, Hunter, easy."

"Where did you go? Why did you leave? Where have you been? Are you back for good?"

"I can't answer any of those questions. I can just be here," Stephanie told him. Hunter grabbed her hand and sat up. He slowly reached out and hugged her, and now he was crying in earnest. Stephanie rolled his eyes as he held her. She felt nothing at his touch. When Chris touched her, it felt like her skin was on fire, like she was going to combust from the inside out. When Hunter touched her, she only wanted to move away.

"I'm so glad you're here."

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here now, it'll all be okay," she told him.

"I believe you, I love you so much," he sobbed into her shoulder. She patted his back.

"I know you do, I've missed you, Hunter, I've missed you so much."

"You're real, you're here, and you're real," he kept saying to himself. Stephanie could feel him slumping against her and she gently laid him back down on the bed. He looked up at her, not wanting to break contact, not wanting to lose her touch and her warmth. "Don't leave me."

"I'm right there," Stephanie told him. "You need to sleep. You're so tired."

"I want to look at you, I just want to see you, I want you here with me."

"Just go to sleep," she brushed his hair away from his face. "Just sleep…"

"I don't want to…"

"Yes, you do. It's okay, Hunter, it'll all be okay, you just need sleep."

"Please stay with me."

"Sleep now," she told him gently as the medicine was starting to take effect again. She sat there, stroking his head until he fell asleep. Stephanie got up to go, leaving him there. She almost wished she could film his reaction tomorrow morning when he woke up to nothing. She grabbed the keycard Chris took and put it on the table in the room so there was no incriminating evidence. Then she left.

She only hoped Hunter would break.