As Mark lie shirtless on the bed at the Crowne Plaza Hotel Manchester, with a stiff bottle of Jack Daniels resting firmly in his hand, looking over at the clock on the nightstand, it was 11:01 a.m. He had a lot on his mind, but his thoughts were momentarily distracted by some kind of raucous noise coming from the outside of the hotel. Strange thing was, he was on the twelfth floor, and it sounded like the Beatles' fans, circa 1964, had taken refuge outside of the building.

Walking over to the window and pulling the thick drapery slightly ajar, liquor bottle still in hand, Mark veered down to see a wall of fans, at least 1,000 of them, at the base of the hotel, chanting a mixture of "3:16", "Let's go Rocky", and strangest of all, "Head", the thought, even if he wasn't a bit tipsy, almost making him chuckle a bit.

Whenever the WWF travelled to the United Kingdom, the fans always went of their way to treat the superstars and Divas like rockstars, mostly because they were so wrestling deprived. The show itself was also always beyond memorable, as well.

In 97, Taker recalled how Shawn Michaels almost caused a near riot in and outside of the the arena, after the British Bulldog, the hometown hero, lost his match against HBK. Shawn's blatant and exuberant celebrations didn't do them any favors, either, as fans pelted he, Hemsley, and Chyna with mounds of garbage.

And just last year, Mark recalled how he competed in a Fatal Four Way Match against Mankind, Kane, and Austin. And while he had come up short in that bout, later on in the night, Mark was more surer than death itself that he was going to be the next World Wrestling Federation champion. It was his destiny.

Sitting at the foot of the bed, Mark attempted to drown his thoughts and sorrows within the bottle, but now, his favorite and most preferred drink of choice suddenly had a bitter, acidic taste to it, causing him to spit the Jack out through his teeth, the remnants splattering across the carpeted floor.

Between the thoughts of winning the title tonight and Stephanie choosing to go back home to Greenwich, Mark's mind was cloudy, and he partly blamed his cloudiness all on one person.

Dropping the half empty bottle to the ground, the brown liquid seeping slowly out of the bottle, onto the floor, Mark thought back to Thursday night, right before he caught his flight to Manchester.

He had intentionally left Stephanie at home alone while she packed for her journey back to Greenwich. While he was definitely upset about her decision, he made the self-conclusion a long time ago that if Steph ever wanted to go back home, then he wouldn't be the one stand to in her way, and that's exactly what he had done.

She wanted to leave and he wasn't going to force her to stay. But just because she was going back home didn't mean that he had to stand around and watch her leave, choosing to get the hell out of there as soon as the sun went down.

Driving into town to sit and think at his favorite bar, Harry's, Mark ordered the largest bottle of Jack Daniels the bar had in stock, found himself a dark table near the recesses of the building, and got sloppy drunk. Even hearing the nearing of clicking heels walking his way couldn't sober him up. As he looked up through heavy lidded eyes, he saw a voluptuous blonde vixen, the fixation of men of everywhere, who just so happened to be his occasional mistress and attorney, standing right there in front of him.

Watching as Mark barely had the courage to break up the apparent love making session between his lips and the glass bottle, banging it hard against the wooden table as his arm drooped down to his side, Angel, tapping her Louis Vuitton heels against the concrete floor, arms folded up, shaking her head, was in disgust at the sight of one of her most important clients in such a drunken stupor.

With her red lipstick shining brightly even in the darkness of the bar, Angel, disappointedly so, looked down at Mark, asking sarcastically, "My, isn't this the sight? I hope you remember that you have a flight to catch at the crack of dawn, or did you forget that in the middle of your um … your drinking?"

Flicking her wrist to look over the dial of her gold Rolex, Angel stared back at Mark, who was now slouching back into the cushioned booth, and reminded, "And with it being oh, 11:34 p.m., I say you have only about six hours to sober up, so with that …"

That's when she swooped in and attempted to take the glass bottle Mark was nursing in his right hand away from him, only Mark wasn't letting it go so easily.

After dead staring her in the eyes for about ten seconds, as Angel returned a white hot stare of her own, Mark finally gave in and loosened his grip on the bottle, realizing he had reached his limit anyway. Placing the bottle on a nearby table, Angel placed her hands on her hips, attempting to re-lecture mark.

"I guess I might have to cancel all my plans for tomorrow then."

Belching, then rolling his eyes, the smell of alcohol traveling through the air, causing Angel to fan the horrid smell from her face, Mark managed, "What the fuck for …?"

Continuing to shake her head, Angel stated cleverly, "Because you're going to be too drunk to even board the flight, and considering how the UK is extra sensitive and strict about passenger etiquette, you won't even make it past TSA, let alone get on and off the flight, so you apparently need a handler or babysitter or something like that. I think I'm well overdue for a vacation. I've never travelled to Manchester, but there's a first time for everything. What do you think?"

Not saying anything, just wanting to continue wallow in self-pity, Mark heard Angel sucking her teeth, snickering.

Taking a chance to look up at the curvaceous woman, whom he was honestly seeing three of at the present, Angel found it comical to ask, "So, I guess I was right? Aw, Marky, wittle Stephy weft you alweady? Didn't I tell you she was too much of a wittle girl to handle a grown man such as yourself? What, her itty bitty feelyings got hwurt bwy someshing you shed? Huh? She gotta a wittle boo boo?"

Having enough of Angel's blatant taunting, Mark stood up from the booth, however wobbly, looked down at the sparkly eyes of his attorney, who seemed rather gleeful about the notion of Mark and Stephanie separating, slightly pushing Angel out of his way, causing the younger woman to lose her balance momentarily, as he drunkenly staggered out of the bar, announcing with slurred speech, "Harry … my tab."

Harry, rinsing out a glass, acknowledged Mark by raising his fist in the air, yelling out over the noisy crowd, "Sure thing, Mark! Hey, take it easy on the roads! Cops out like crazy tonight."

Walking outside, letting the semi-humid Houston air hit his face, Mark wrestled with his jeans pockets for his motorcycle keys, wanting to flee the bar … and Angel … as quickly as possible. Unfortunately for him, however, Angel was following right behind him, grinning and giggling on mockingly.

Lacing her fingers around Mark's neck from behind, having to stand on her tip toes to do so, kissing him along his face, Angel breathed out slowly, saying "Mark, look, if it makes you feel any better, I'm sorry your farce of a marriage is going down the shitter, but truth be told, I told you this would happen.

Not to brag, but had you done things my way, you could have married Stephanie, legally, you'd have the girl, the keys to the company, and all would be well, but no, since you had to do things your way, this is what happens. I told you little Stephy wasn't ready for the big time, even if things had gone my way, and I was right about that, too. She's not like you and me, Mark. She doesn't have that killer instinct. She's too sweet; she's twenty two still with stuffed animals in her bedroom for God's sake, and despite her being a 'McMahon', she still doesn't have it. Sorry this had to happen to you, but you have to admit, it was for your own good."

Sucking his own teeth now, looking up into the nighttime sky, wishing desperately a meteorite would crash into Earth and land directly on him, Mark, with a heavy drunken slur then asked, "Little girl, huh? Oh, and how'd you even know about me and 'Stephy'," Mark asked, clearly doing some mocking of his own now. "You stalking me, woman?"

Rubbing her hands through Mark's dark hair and scalp, kissing the back of his neck, Angel chuckled out again, "No, smart ass. I stopped by your place to have you to sign certain documents about your new ownership, which have a deadline to be returned to the World Wrestling Federation by next week, but I didn't find you there."

Lacing her hands around Mark's waist, Angel proceeded to say, "What I did find were several pieces of luggage in the foyer, and that's never a good sign, so I took it for what it was. It was only until I saw little Stephy walk down the stairs in a huff, tears rolling down her poor little face, that my suspicions were confirmed."

Tracing her hand up and down his chest, while the palm of her other hand pressed hard against his pecs and abdomen, Angel proposed, "Now that that little slut is out of the way, I think it's time that we finally moved on with our life together, don't you think?"

"Our life? Don't you got an old man?" Mark asked, still tipsy from his rendezvous with that bottle of Jack.

"I have a boy, not a man. A boy who can't seem to tame all this grown woman, just like you have a little girl, who can't seem to tame all this grown man."

Grabbing Mark by the bulge of his anatomy, Angel bit alongside his shoulder, speaking seductively enough, saying, "So, how about I divorce him, you divorce little Stephy, and hell, while we're at it, before we go off to the chapel, black tux for you, pale pink dress for me, because God knows I'm no virgin, how about we play matchmaker? Stephy can have my runt, they'll have some mediocre runts for children, while we raise a couple of powerhouses; adoption only, of course. I mean, we wouldn't want to ruin this great figure, now would we? And we'll all live happily ever after. Yeah, I think that sounds about right."

Waving her hand over the sky, running off her brilliant idea, Angel pre-quoted, "Mr. and Mrs. Mark and Angel Calway. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

As Angel continued to peck along Mark's neck, leaving her lipstick stain over his skin, licking her tongue over his pulsating vein, Mark, turning around to face Angel, with the look of the Devil shining from his eyes, grabbed Angel around the waist, pulling her close to him, to really let her know how serious he was about her proposition.

"Angel?" Mark asked low enough to make Angel want to cream her panties right then and there.

"Um hum? Yes, daddy?"

"Before I say yes, and you know I am …" and with that Mark patted her on the behind, the smack audible enough to hear even a couple of feet away, while Angel squirmed under the weight of Mark's strong hands. Her pants picking up heavily now, Angel, licking her lips in wanton heat, desperately wanting to feel Mark moving in and out of her within the next few seconds, said between heavy gasps, "Yes, daddy, ask me anything."

"Have you ever thought about not being a cheap whore?"

Unlacing her fingers from around Mark's neck, Angel, taken aback, but always one for a good comeback, remarked, "Well, in cheap, I don't think that would be fair, I would actually like to call myself a high price whore, since I wear great labels, drive great cars, but still … maybe … no. Why'd you ask?"

Throwing the bottle against the brick wall that made up Harry's exterior, the glass shattering all over the sidewalk, Mark then stuck his finger in Angel's face and retorted, "Because if you did then you'd be sleeping with your old man every night, and not every Tom, Dick, and hell, maybe Harry himself inside, who knows? Point is Angel, I'm done with you. You can be my lawyer, I might keep you, but as far as sex goes, that's over and done with. I like my pussy warm and inviting, not cold and turning me around at the door before I even pay admission. You got that?"

Scoffing, folding her arms up, Angel, clearly surprised, replied stoically, "You can't mean that. You're drunk, and when you wake up tomorrow morning and realize what you've just said to me, you're going to regret it, because truth is Mark, I can do things to you that your little bitch can never, and will never do. Know that."

"And another thing," Mark said strongly, a warning tone deep inside his voice rising out of it. "The next time you call my wife a bitch, I'm really going to show you a bitch, bitch. Collar, leash, all fours, but hell, who am I talking? You just might like that."

Walking up to Mark and tracing her finger down his chest, clearly not taking his threat seriously, Angel made a biting motion towards his face, licking her lips, whispering seductively.

"Ooh, Mark, you're into kink, I like that. But fine, I'll never bother you about sex again. As a matter of fact, what's your brother's telephone number, you know, the burnt one who wears that mask, kinda retarded? I'm sure he'd love to take a ride on the Angel Coaster. Bout as much pussy he's ever gonna get in his life anyway. Tata for now."

And with that, Angel wriggled her fingers and walked away from Mark almost as if a small confrontation just hadn't happened between the two, making her ass sashay robotically for good measure.

As two guys walked out of Harry's with beers in their hand, Angel walked over to them both and asked quite loudly, "Hey, guys! Looking for a wild time, tonight?" her eyebrows going up and down in the process.

Realizing Angel was never going to change her ways, and even realizing that he too was too stuck in his ways, which is why Stephanie was now leaving him, Mark hopped on to his bike, crank up the machine, and veered down the highway, only thoughts of Stephanie and how to get her back on his mind.


It was early Sunday morning, and as Stephanie looked over to her cute cat wall clock, she discovered it was a little after six in the morning. She was restless for a reason, as all of the Friday and Saturday's events surrounded with reconnecting with her family.

She, Linda, and Gracie stayed up all Friday night, talking about the events that led up to Mark forcing her into marriage on live television, what happened afterwards, and what lead to her "escaping", as Linda tentatively put it, which put Stephanie in a bit of a bind. As far as she knew, Stephanie's marriage to Mark was over, but if she told the truth about what really happened between she and Mark, about how Stephanie was really in love with him, how she and Mark had wonderful sex, how the two made love on multiple occasions, and everything else that she had discovered about herself in the process … well, she didn't want to think about that potential outcome; all she knew was that the ending wouldn't be pretty.

However, if she blatantly lied, then she'd still inadvertently forging ahead with Mark's plans of working everyone around them, including her family, into making them believe that she hated him, and that couldn't be any further from the truth. In fact, no matter what Mark said or did, Steph just didn't have it in heart to hate anyone, let alone her own husband, but what was she to do in such a predicament?

In the end, however, Steph did what she thought was best … she lied.

For the most part, Steph told the truth about the events that led up to her being forced into marriage with Mark, how he had her under the constant watchful eyes of his Ministry and Ryan, forcing her to sleep on dirty mattresses in old worn down and abandoned warehouses, how she was forced to sign a marriage certificate after she and Mark married, but after that, her story began to steer further and further away from the truth.

It was at that moment that Stephanie began to tell this fanatical story of how Mark, although he hadn't laid a finger on her physically, and failed to also advance himself on to her sexually, forced her to live in the basement of some sort of Ministry undercover hangout in Death Valley, how she was under the Ministry's lock and key the entire time she was in their presence, which was partially true in the beginning, but not so much in the end, except when Mark was hellbent on her not finding out the results of Raw at each and every Monday, and how Mark, after he claimed he would regain the title in Manchester, simply allowed Steph to go back home, paying for her airfare and all of the other expenses, since he obviously couldn't force her to board an international flight, feeling the risk was far greater than the reward, which is how she ended up back in Greenwich.

But every since Steph returned home, Linda, a worried and terrified mother for the past four months, seemed to cry forever now that Steph was actually back home, beyond grateful that Mark had failed to truly hurt her and had returned her baby girl all in one piece, which really ate Stephanie up inside, having to lie to her mother like this, but what else was she to do? She didn't want to risk getting she, Mark, or the both of them in trouble, and the less Linda and the rest of her family knew about the real truth, the better off they'd all be as a family.

On Stephanie's first night back, however, Linda, while she and Gracie were sitting around talking, attempting to reconnect with each other, informed Stephanie about how X-Pac was accusing her of somehow conspiring against he and Kane, and how the brash young man seemed both passionate and adamant about Stephanie's involvement in the whole ordeal.

Of course, Stephanie denied all this, explaining simply that on the last Sunday Night Heat, X-Pac wanted answers from her about why Mark booked him into a Handicap Match against Kane and the Big Show, and after she simply couldn't accommodate him, because she knew nothing of the entire situation, X-Pac decided to take his anger and frustration out on her instead, which Linda believed completely, even going as far as saying, "Well, he doesn't go around calling himself a 'degenerate' for nothing, I suppose."

In the back of Stephanie's mind, however, she mentally screamed to herself,"That little bastard!"

Now that Stephanie had come to her senses, she knew that she was wrong for what she done to Sean and Kane, and maybe Road Dogg, Billy Gunn, and the Big Show too. She knew this from the moment she spoke with Mark about the situation at the Caribbean restaurant back in Florida, but she didn't expect X-Pac to actually go blabbing to her mom about it!

"From now on, I keep my nose absolutely clean. Leave the booking up to the pros."

Her initial day back home was especially hard for Stephanie for another number of different reasons, as well.

On top of missing Mark and seeing the hurt in her mother's eyes, Stephanie also saw Vince and Shane for the first time in weeks … and it was nothing short of heartbreaking.

Linda had taken the extra precaution of hiring two live in doctors to take care of the two men while they were to remain incapacitated, which told Stephanie before she even saw them that Mark had really gone out of his way to hurt the two most important men in her life. And she couldn't understand why.

Neither Vince nor Shane had ever done anything to Mark personally that would warrant such a cowardly assault, and while Stephanie was fully aware that Mark may have never laid a hand on Shane himself, in her opinion, he was equally responsible for Shane's injuries, after purposely booking him into a Street Fight against the Rock, so his hands weren't entirely clean in that regard, either.

First walking into Shane's room, Steph's eyes welled up with tears, while Shane's mostly filled with surprise.

It had been weeks since the pair had last seen each other, and Shane's blatant disregard for Stephanie's well-being was still fresh on her mind, but nevertheless, she wasn't directly holding him responsible for his actions.

Steph knew deep down inside how much her brother really loved her, and when people acquired power, it made them do strange things in order keep it, the perfect example being Mark himself.

Before Steph stepped into Shane's room, her brother didn't even know that his little sister was back home, and maybe it was because of that, the shock of it all, that he couldn't even look Stephanie in the face.

When Steph initially walked into his room, a doctor by the name of Myer Wilson, greeted Stephanie warmly, something her brother failed to do, instead choosing to only stare at his sister, mouth closed, eyes unreadable, and afterwards, once the initial shock of seeing his baby sister wore off, Shane focused his attention on anything but his sister.

Stephanie thought this surely must have been from the sure guilt that he was feeling, because for Shane to be such a powerful man before the Corporation dissolved, he surely didn't look like much of a powerful man when she first saw him again.

Dr. Wilson, who was applying ice to Shane's tailbone area, informed Steph that although Shane had both a bruised tailbone and a broken collarbone, with his arm also in a sling, as a result of taking Rock Bottom through the announcer's table, that even though Shane was a bit worse for wear, neither ailment required any form of surgery, just plenty of downtime, rest, and then eventual rehabilitation.

Stephanie, seeing that her brother was beyond embarrassed, decided to leave his room shortly thereafter, but not before giving him a peck of the cheek goodbye, reminding him to get plenty of rest, assuring she'd be back in the morning. Shane's response was cold, however, but Steph took it all in stride.

She knew Shane was a very prideful man, therefore it would take a little bit more time in order for him to come right out and apologize for his actions. Steph knew that Shane would … and could … be the bigger person … unlike her husband, who refused to acknowledge any of his wrongdoings.

Walking down the hallway to a huge set of double doors, Stephanie, taking a deep breath, feeling as if she were visiting a hospital instead of her own home, gathered up the courage, and entered her parents' room, where Vince lie sleeping, but not in his own bed.

No, instead, Vince lie sleeping in a hospital bed, and it was at that sight of seeing her father, who rarely succumbed to any sort of illness, lying in a hospital bed, that Steph began to cry hysterically, completely unable to sustain her tears.

The sight of Vince, who was laying in a hospital bed, almost at a thirty degree angle, his arm too in a sling, looking absolutely horrible, as if he had just come out of a horrible car accident, was simply too much for Stephanie, who wailed away without any restraint whatsoever.

Another doctor, a female this time, Dr. Jenny Woodson, consoled Steph while she cried over her father, who suddenly reached his hand out and patted his baby girl's head lightly, as if he were silently letting her know that everything was going to be ok.

Unable to stop the rapid onslaught of tears, Steph cried out to her father in between sobs. "I'm so sorry, Dad … I'm sorry … I … This is my fault, Dad … I'm sor …"

Going back to tears, beside herself with grief, pain, and anguish, Vince, with raspy voice, attempting to say, "It's not …", Steph suddenly realized that Vince was having trouble speaking.

Looking up at her father, who looked back at her as only a loving father could, Stephanie dropped her head once again, weeping at her father's side. It was all too much for her.

Dr. Woodson, Vince's appointed live in doctor, informed Steph that among the clavicle and collarbone injuries that Vince sustained by the hands of Mark, he was also suffering from a bruised larynx and a concussion, and although Vince had come a long way back to actually speaking without the lingering feeling of pain or dizziness when he looked around the room, he still needed to rest his both his voice and his body.

Steph wanted desperately to lie in the hospital bed with her father, to let him know that she loved him, that she'd always be his baby girl, and she would stay by his side as long as he wanted her to, but she decided not to. Vince deserved rest, and Steph, kissing her father goodbye after what seemed like forever, went back to her own bedroom, sleeping in her own bed for the first time in months.

Saturday, Steph spent most of her day with Vince again, and even spent an entire hour with Shane. Although he didn't say much of anything to her, she wanted to let her family know that she was there for them. She loved them all, and she was secretly blaming herself for what they had gone through.

Throughout the day, Steph didn't have much of an appetite, but Linda made her fill her stomach with a hearty roast beef sandwich, warm soup, and fruit juice, all of which Gracie had prepared for the family.

Of course, Vince and Shane had a special diet of their own they were to consume, but for Stephanie, even though she initially wasn't hungry, her sadness overriding her happiness, once she ate, she felt a lot better, deciding to spend most of her day by her father's bedside.

When it was time for Stephanie to return back to bed later that evening, she went unwillingly, wanting to spend as much time with Vince, as possible, but once again, Linda reminded her that her health too was important, as well, and she ushered her daughter off into her own room again, back to her own bed.

That night, however, when everyone else seemed fast asleep, Steph crept down into her father's study, looking for something specific, and when she found it, she crept back into her room, making sure to lock the door behind her. Opening Vince's very large black book, a book which contained an assortment of things, from notes to pictures to a list of phone numbers of all the WWF superstar and Diva who had ever stepped foot in the company, Steph flipped through it vigorously, hoping she could find what she was looking for. Going through the book quickly, Stephanie came across a very rare picture, depicting a scene that made her chuckle out loud.

It was almost tradition for Vince and Shane, whenever they were going to sign new, top tier talent, to invite them to their home in Greenwich, and formally initiate them by having Shane push the unsuspecting superstar in the pool.

This particular picture, which was taken a year ago in 97, seven years after Mark had signed with the company, was especially funny to Steph, because for whatever reason, as Mark was meeting with Vince here in Greenwich, Shane thought it would be a fun idea to push Mark in the pool, since the tradition apparently started after Mark had already signed with the company.

Problem was, Mark outweighed Shane by at least eighty to ninety pounds, and instead of Mark going in the pool, it was Shane, with Steph shrieking playfully poolside, as Shane was the one who ultimately ended up in the pool. That was a fun day for all of them, because up until that point, Shane had been the undefeated champion of tossing people into the pool.

Going through the book some more, Steph found another picture of Mark, this time, he was backstage, reading over some papers, in his street clothes, that Stephanie herself was handing to him, when she was still working for the company in an assistant like role.

Steph couldn't help but to notice how different Mark looked physically now as opposed to then.

Last year, while Mark still had long black hair, today his hair was much longer and curlier when he wanted it to be. He had a goatee then, not a full on beard like he had today. The year prior, while Mark was still a huge man in size, he looked tank-like now in the year 99'. And most importantly, back in 98', Mark looked more … he looked more human. Like he still had a bit of soul left inside of him. Now, he looked as if he could care less about anything or anyone else but himself … and maybe this is just the picture Stephanie needed to see in order to fully realize that her marriage was over.

Flipping through the book some more, Stephanie came across the exact number she was hoping she would find.

Picking up the phone that sat near her bed, Steph began dialing the number, but something across the room suddenly caught her eye. Placing the cordless phone back onto her bed, Steph walked over to her dresser, and what she saw both startled and surprised her.

It was small in size, but just large enough in magnitude to put her on high alert, even when now, back in her own home, she wasn't supposed to be.

On top of her dresser, along with a few medals and awards she received from school, pictures of her and her friends, and amongst all of her other stuffed animals she had collected over the years, was a small, brown teddy bear. A teddy bear that was very similar to the one Mark had set on fire on Raw all those weeks ago. Obviously to her, this was not the exact same bear, but identical enough to others where most people would not be able to tell the difference between the two.

Picking it up and holding it close to her, Steph's uneasiness suddenly waned, as she found herself smiling now. For one, the teddy smelled just like the fragrance Linda's always wore, and two, she finally had a small piece of her former life back.

Walking back over to her bed with the teddy, Stephanie picked the up the cordless phone back up and dialed the number that was before her, hoping desperately that when the other person on the line picked up, they wouldn't curse her out.

"Hello," the male voice called out from the other end.

"Ken?" Steph asked shyly. "This is Stephanie … McMahon."

Ken, who was looking over at the clock at his nightstand, realizing it was almost noon, looked at his cell phone curiously, before answering, "Yeah, ok, Stephanie. Is there something you need or is this some sort of trick Mark has put you up to?"

"No, no," Steph said while gulping. "No, Mark hasn't put me up to anything. I'm in Greenwich with my parents. Look, I know you're busy preparing for your match tonight, and I want to make this brief, but I just want to apologize to you, and thank you again, for you know, saving me initially."

Sitting down on the hotel's bed, clad in only a pair of blue trunks, Ken answered, "Look, Steph, you don't have to apologize to me about anything, and you're welcome … again. I mean, it's not your fault you have a psycho for a husband."

Knowing Ken was still seeking revenge and retribution against Mark, for all the wrong he had done to Shamrock and his family in recent weeks, Stephanie shifted the conversation a bit and decided to ask about Ryan.

"Ken … just to ask … I mean, I don't know if you know, but me and Ryan had a pretty physical fight … like a real one a couple of weeks back, and she hasn't been seen since, and I'm kind of worried about her, since you know … have you by any chance talked to her?"

Hearing Ken breathe in and out of the phone slowly, taking his time to finally speak, with heavy heart, Kenny replied, "No, I haven't. You know, she told me she didn't want anything to do with me, and it's been a maybe a week or two since I last saw her, too."

Looking around her room, rubbing her teddy's belly, Steph asked, "Ken, before all this, when was the last time that you saw Ryan … you know … normal Ryan? I mean she took on this metamorphic like change almost instantly."

Rubbing his hands through his head, Ken replied, "I mean, I don't know. Maybe that Monday of the show, I think April 19th, not exactly sure the date. I mean, it's weird, you know? The week before, they had her down in the damn boiler room, and when they carted me off, I escaped, I came back for her, but she wasn't there. Then the following Sunday, right before Sunday Night Heat was to go on air, I got a phone call from her. She told me Mark had let her go and that she was at this bus station in Grand Rapids. I get there, pick her up, I was almost late for my match even, because I wanted to make sure she was absolutely safe. That next day, we drove to Lansing. I wanted her as far away from the arena as possible, but then Mark shows up on the Titantron and says he knows where she is. I called the room over and over again, couldn't get any answer, and when I finally make it there, wrestling gear and everything still on, Ryan wasn't there. She was gone. I mean, and you saw what happened at Backlash, and you know, that's it."

And that's when Stephanie realized: Ryan had set Kenny up! Even though Kenny seemingly left that hotel room in one piece, it suddenlydawned on her that Ryan was almost the recipient of a spanking the day after Ken found her in the boiling room, and she was willingly calling Mark "Master" afterwards, meaning Ryan was never in any danger!

Mark used her to lure Kenny away from the arena in order to attack the Big Show, to play mind games with Shamrock, and to assert his dominance over the locker room, while she and Vince were away at Titan Television Studios doing that interview with Michael Cole.

When Steph got back home in Greenwich the Tuesday after Monday Night Raw in Grand Rapids, when Vince, Pat, Jerry, and other WWF officials were going back over the show in Vince's study, Steph walked in and saw Mark and Viscera issuing a beating to the Acolytes. And before that, Mark was screaming at Paul Bearer about not having time for failure. Suddenly, everything was coming full circle for her.

Silent longer than she had anticipated she'd be, Steph heard Kenny ask through the phone, "Steph? Hello, you still there?"

Shaking her head, attempting to continue with the conversation, Steph sighed and replied heavily, "Yeah, Ken, I'm still here. So, you haven't heard anything from Ryan, huh?"

"No, but Steph, how about you don't worry about that right now. Look, I'm glad that you're back with your family; that's where you need to be. In times like this, sometimes the people you can count on the most is your family."

"Right," Steph said slowly, looking around her room.

"So, get you some rest, and tell your old man I said hello, for me, huh?"

"I will. Good luck on your title match tonight."

"Yeah, thanks. Bye, Steph."

"Bye."

And that was that.

As the sun was coming up over Stephanie's window, still holding her teddy bear, Steph continued to think about all the things that were going on in her life, between her family, Mark, Ryan and Kenny, and where her life would go from here.

So many thoughts were floating through her mind restlessly that Steph's heavily weighed upon brain completely began to shut down, as she decided to take Kenny's advice, adjusting herself in her bed, and closing her eyes for some well-deserved sleep.