A/N : So I am incredibly sorry here that this is not a new chapter - it is technically a rewrite (or just an edit?) of the original chapter 19 which, while working on chapter 20, I discovered had so many errors, mistakes etc. So I'm super sorry for that! If you've already read this chapter, don't worry, chapter 20 isn't a million miles away and, if you haven't, thank you for coming to see what it's all about.

Now, word of warning which came with the original chapter: this is where the timeline will skew and where things will become more fiction than 'straight off the WWE creative team's storyboard'. It will also be where certain characters will be amended and removed (so far, it's looking like HBK or Goldberg - or maybe someone completely at random who y'all would not expect - will be World Heavyweight Champion come Summerslam, but I can say that it will not be Benoit.) I am between four people at the moment. HBK, Goldberg and two others - both of whom would REALLY change things up. So let me know who you'd love to see ;)

As always, thank you to all my readers and please, please, please remember to review, comment or follow because that really does mean the whole world to me. Love you guys!

It had been palpable the week before, sitting near to him in the limo as they headed back to the hotel. She had felt it, a crackle of electricity so strong that she was sure the others must have been aware. And then… nothing. She had sat up for hours, waiting and, though she was loathe to admit it, hoping that he would come and check up on her. He never did, though – there was no knock at the door or no text message illuminating her cell – but when she finally fell asleep, it had been his face she saw.

Sitting in the Evolution locker room a week later, she watched as he tossed a small roll of sports tape between his hands, her eyes following it from one to the other. "So we all know what we're doing tonight?' Ric asked, the oldest member of the group adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He had the night off while the others… Well, Lita couldn't quite work out how they'd been allotted their matches. A title defence against Victoria was to be expected, of course, but so soon? She was so far from mentally prepared and, truthfully, she hadn't even stretched. Hunter – who had been allowed to choose his opponent for the evening – would be facing The Hurricane while Batista would be reintroducing Jeff Hardy to the WWE. Lita had shuddered when she heard that, running both hands through her hair as Ric assured her that Dave had been discreet about his reasons for demanding the match. And then there was Randy who had somehow found himself on the short end of the stick, facing Shawn Michaels in the main event.

"We got it, Ric," Hunter replied dismissively. "Lita retains, Dave takes care of Hardy and Randy sorts out another legend. Ey, kid?"

"Yup." The short response punctuated by a gentle thump as the tape hit his palm with more force than previous. "HBK versus RKO. Again." Lita chanced a look up at his face, a thin crease between his eyes as he stared at the floor, hands never stopping.

"Whassamatter with you?" Ric asked, casting a nervous glance at Hunter. The two seemed to share a silent exchange which did not go unmissed by Lita.

"It's Foley," Randy replied, shocking her. Perhaps she truly was as self-obsessed as he had accused her of being a few weeks ago, for she had been certain his foul mood was in relation to Dave being the one to get his hands on Jeff. "He shows up at the Rumble, screws me over and then…nothing? Doesn't make sense."

"In all fairness, Randy, not much of what Foley does ever makes sense. But these last few weeks…" Lita shrugged. "It's just him messing with your mind. You're over thinking this and you can't afford to be distracted going into a match against Shawn Michaels…"

"Lita's right, champ – it's all about Michaels, tonight. And, when you're done with him you can call Foley out – no better way to do it than coming off a win!" Lita nodded along with Ric's words, though she wasn't entirely convinced. She was sure they just wanted him to soften Shawn up for Hunter but if Ric's words could inspire something in him…

Randy looked unconvinced but when Ric and Dave headed off to speak to Terri about challenging Jeff – and largely ignoring the real reason for the match – he looked almost relieved. "Are you going to use that or just keep tossing it around?" asked Lita, still watching the tape which moved left to right, speeding up and slowing down but never faltering. "You're giving me a headache." It was an exaggeration and one which garnered a roll of Hunter's eyes in response, but it had the desired effect – Randy's hands halted and he dragged his eyes from the floor to her face.

"What? Oh. Yeah, I'm gonna use it," Randy replied distractedly, though he never moved to tape his wrists. Hunter's phone rang then, loud and shrill in the otherwise silent locker room and he excused himself to take the call.

"Randy…you seem out of it," Lita mused, though it was an understatement to say the least.

"Yeah. I'm just…you know."

"I…do not," she replied, offering him a small smile.

"I just have a lot going on."

"Like?" Don't push it, she thought. He had blown hot and cold over the last few months, and she never really knew how to expect his responses. It was never the same between the two of them two weeks in a row.

"Foley, mostly. And Michaels." Those two were obvious answers but Randy began to spin the roll of tape around his index finger, causing Lita to raise an eyebrow. "And after last week I…I've been thinking a lot about my dad. So there's that. And then there's you." He tried to laugh but it sounded humourless – hollow – and Lita reached out to take the tape from him, if only to stop him fidgeting.

"What about me?"

With nothing left to occupy himself, Randy looked back down at his empty hands. "I've been wondering if I did the right thing, when I got you your job back." His words sounded heavy and Lita blinked in shock. "I shouldn't have put you through all of this. Since you joined us its just been…all that shit with Matt and then Trish, then you were injured and now…"

Lita's hand slipped into his, lingering for a second before turning it over, palm side up. "And now?" she asked rhetorically, unravelling the tape and, with careful movements, wrapping up his wrist. "Now, I'm women's champion." Meticulously, she wrapped, over the palm of his hand and around the wrist, her eyes focused on her ministrations. "I could have done without the injury – I'll give you that – but everything else?" She raised his hand, bringing it close to her mouth as she ripped the tape with her teeth. "I'd say it's been worth it."

When she was younger, she had enjoyed the feeling of butterflies, of the giddiness that came with developing feelings for someone new. But this? This was nothing like the gentle beat of a butterfly's wing and Lita imagined something akin to a crow, stronger and more chaotic, frantically flapping in her stomach. Randy's hand curved to cup her cheek. "Yeah?" he asked, his thumb grazing her lip and she nodded before pulling away from him, her eyes darting to the closed door. Randy seemed to understand and he laughed as he held out his other hand.

"Remember at Armageddon when I thought you'd kissed me…" she began, thinking of how she'd imagined his hands cradling her face.

"I should've."

"What?"

"Wanted to. I figured I could play it off as an adrenaline rush if I kissed you right there in the ring. But I…" Randy grinned – that blinding grin that made her falter and almost drop the tape as she wrapped his second wrist. "I wanted to know that you wanted me to."

His words set off a reaction she hadn't expected and those bird-like wings started up again. Lita steadied herself, taking her time to finish the wrist-wrap neatly. "So you waited a couple of weeks and kissed me to shut me up?" she teased when she was sure her voice was strong enough.

"I told you – act first, think later." Randy responded, not missing a beat and causing her to roll her eyes.

"You're thinking too much right now," she warned, offering him a stern gaze. Or at least, she hoped it was stern. "You can worry about Foley and your dad…and me, once this match is done. Okay?"

Randy groaned, amused, and leaned back into the sofa, watching as Hunter re-entered the room. "Okay."

She hadn't watched, taking much longer than necessary to shower after her title defence, but she had heard Randy and Ric's reactions and her heart had thudded painfully every time they gave excited cheers. What was Dave doing? She wondered, though she knew she wasn't prepared to witness this for herself. When the noise died down and Lita heard the click of the locker room door, she finally left the shower facilities. "Dave's gone to clean up," Hunter said, and Lita knew better than to ask.

The Wrestlemania XX tshirt she wore was much too big for her, falling down to mid-thigh but still she tugged at the hem, feeling more exposed than she would have liked. He hadn't returned to the hotel with them and Lita had assumed she wouldn't be seeing Randy for another week. Taking a rather excessive bubble bath, she had tried to unwind, though a nagging voice in the back of her mind had told her to check up on him. She'd barely had time to dress when Randy had knocked at her bedroom door, striding across the room without speaking and opening the large windows where he stood, taking deep breaths of the Pensylvanian night air. Lita's skin was dappled with gooseflesh as she closed the door behind him, sliding the lock into place and padded across the plush carpet to where he stood. "Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm, though he barely seemed to register it.

"Where did he find that shit?" Randy asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of traffic from the street below. She didn't have the answers to that but she knew it had been what was bothering him. She had seen how he'd paled as the photo of him in his Marines uniform flashed up on the screen and heard how he'd stammered out those unintelligible words before retreating from the room, Ric and Dave hot on his heels. She had only seen him for a few seconds since, grabbing his title and his bag and near running from the arena but she could sense that, even though it had been Mick who'd left the arena in an ambulance, Randy had had the worst night. "That photo… my arrest…"

It had been news to her, of course – she'd always just assumed that he'd fallen into wrestling straight out of school, the natural succession of a wrestler's son – and from the look on Hunter's face, it had been news to him too. "Randy it's okay…" she said softly, though she wasn't entirely sure why she was trying to console him. Was it okay that something he had clearly been trying to keep secret had been leaked? Was it okay that he'd beat up Mick to the point where she was pretty sure their job wouldn't hold up as defence in a court of law? Or was it okay that he'd agreed to wrestle Mick Foley on the grandest stage of them all, Wrestlemania?

"I never wanted –" Randy cut himself off, exhaling a sigh before shaking his head. His knuckles were white on the window frame and Lita moved her hand to cover one of his own. "I was only nineteen. I was a dumb kid, straight from school and I didn't… I didn't wanna be my dad." Running her fingers over his, she tried to get him to loosen his grip but Randy remained tense. "I didn't belong in the Marines. But I didn't help myself. I was… I was a kid but I was an asshole, too. And – And I fucked up and I regretted it and I just needed to get out of there. So I did the thirty-eight days and I covered up the tattoo and I pretended it didn't happen." The words seemed to pour out of him and Lita didn't have any time to ask what tattoo and what exactly his charges had been that led to him spending thirty-eight days in a military prison. "I didn't tell Vince when I started – but he didn't ask. He just assumed I was Bob's dumb kid who'd never considered anything other than wrestling and I didn't correct him." Grip lessening on the window he turned to face her and Lita struggled not to embrace him – he somehow looked simultaneously like the reveal had aged him and been a weight off his shoulders. "I never lied. I just…never told anyone."

Words failed her then and she wrapped her arms around him, pressing her face to his chest. "None of that matters. No one will think any less of you," she said, omitting the part that it was mostly due to people not thinking very much of him to start with. "We've all got pasts… Yours was just… well, I would put money on Dave having done time and Hunter definitely should've after he drugged Steph and…"

"This is different."

He had barely reacted to her attempt at a hug and Lita's arms fell to her side, worrying her lip between her teeth a little as she wondered how best to help. "How?"

"Because this is what I do. I fuck up and I let people down. My dad, Evolution, my country… It's just one thing after another and right now... Fuck," his final word was more of a rasp, thick with emotion. "I thought if I didn't mention it, it didn't count. That I could just…" He ran a hand through his short hair, looking lost. "Forget."

It seemed to be the only thing she could think of – or perhaps she wasn't thinking at all – but when he said that word, his voice hushed, Lita knew exactly what to do. Pushing up on her tiptoes, her hand slid up his neck to pull him down to meet her, hoping she could somehow convey to him that none of that mattered. That he wasn't a fuck up. Not in her eyes. And if he wanted to forget… she was sure she could make him.