Lita swung the sledgehammer again with a grunt, breaking off a few more chips of concrete. What a lovely parting gift from Freyja before her time off. The little bitch had encased Lita's duffel bag in concrete.
"Say what you want about Freyja," Edge groaned over the loud ping of the sledgehammer. "At least she's creative."
God Bless HHH for lending them these hammers to chip away at the rock hard concrete blob that once was Lita's stuff.
"Yeah, that's exactly what I'm thinking about her right now." the redhead growled. Setting the hammer head-down momentarily, and leaning on the handle, she asked, panting, "Edge?"
"Yeah babe?" he looked up from his labor.
"Should I give it to her?"
Edge froze, looking at his beloved girlfriend, a struggle in her eyes. She was in turmoil, she had been since all this started. Of course, Freyja, among all this torment insisted that if she got a match it would all stop. It wasn't as if Lita believed her, but it was worth a try, right?
"Do you want to?" Edge asked in his surprise.
"I- I don't know, I- whats to say if I do give her a match shes not just going to go in with a knife or something? I just want it to stop, Edge. I don't deserve this, all I wanted was a way out. Away from Kane. You have no idea what it was like... " Lita trailed off, beginning to breakdown a little. It was true, she only wanted to distance herself from the husband she had hated, who had hated her, away from a miserable existence. She was however, aware that in doing so, she had tipped the happiness from another. What could she do but give her the match to make it right?
She was so numb with the conflict in her mind she hadn't even noticed Edge wrapping his strong, long arms around her smaller frame. "I know baby, I know. It's hard."
Lita let it all loose, Edge stroking her auburn hair and shushing her cries. When finally she slowed, he grabbed her by the shoulders and stooped down to her eye level. "Listen, you do whatever you need to do when Freyja gets back. I'll be right behind you. I'll support whatever you decide, okay?"
Lita nodded, wiping the running mascara from under her eyes. "Okay."
~O~O~O~O~O~O~
Six to Eight weeks, that was what the doctor said anyway. It wasn't the ACL, but it wasn't pretty.
Freyja was, regretfully, been given six weeks as well, to help take care of her husband as if they couldn't afford a nurse. She was fast discovering she may be the only person that could put up with Kane's moods. Sadly, she had to leave the tormenting to their posse for the moment.
Kane house was a bit of a surprise. One would have thought he'd live in some run-down serial killer shack in the middle of nowhere. But when Freyja finally arrived at his door with him, she saw not a moldy shack, but a regular, perfectly normal, if not a bit upscale three bedroom condo.
The first few weeks, Kane was absolutely insufferable. It was as if he didn't know the meaning of rest. By the fourth week she'd finally got him convinced to walk with the crutch like he'd been told to. She had to lock the door to the training room, and by the fifth week, he'd broken the lock pounding on the door.
One day in week 6, she'd finally gotten Kane to sit down of an evening, and in a grand display of forward thinking, parked herself cross-legged on his lap.
"Freyja, let me up," Kane groaned.
"No." Freyja responded, keeping herself right where she was, until Kane jerked her back by her hair, where she could see his face.
"What do you mean 'no'?" He spat. She was his woman, no shouldn't be in her vocabulary.
"I mean," the young woman twisted around, ignoring the pain and pulling at her roots so she could straddle his lap. One long finger poked her husband in the chest. "No. You're going to sit with me, and let your knee rest and heal."
Who did she think she was? Ordering him around like this? But her body was warm, and she had since stopped poking him and laid her hand flat on his chest. He didn't understand it, why she was so determined to take care of him, but he didn't really care, his arms wrapped around her and pulled her close.
Freyja rested her cheek on her husbands massive shoulder. She could feel his heartbeat slow through his t-shirt. She raised from her spot, hands on either shoulder and looked at Kane's face. He'd since tilted his head back, eyes closed, he looked at peace, as his tortured soul rarely let him look, and she felt herself smile against her better judgement.
The Monster peeked at her from half lidded eyes. "What?"
Freyja wiped the smile off her face and shook her head and started to move to get up. "Nothing. Let me go make some dinner."
Kane's arms gripped her tighter, forcing hr to settle back into him. "Not yet. Stay."
Freyja set her head back on his toned chest, but this was too normal. They weren't supposed to be normal. They weren't supposed to be content. They were Freyja and Kane, thrown together unwillingly, angry, vengeful. Not embracing on the couch in a house like a married couple. She thought about getting up, even if it was a struggle, but she knew he'd easily over power her.
Instead she reflected on this while in his arms. Maybe she'd gotten too close to Kane, she'd tried too hard to work with him. She'd shown him a side of her that wanted his aggression. Now he actually wanted her around, wanted her to stay.
By God, what had she gotten herself into?
O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O
"Just a little more... there." Freyja ordered and Show set the gas tank on the ground in the garage.
"Kane's gonna be pissed when he finds out you're setting things on fire without him." Big Show teased, and Freyja just laughed.
"Yeah, but it's not like he can chase me." she joked back. The man had been ordered not to preform while his knee healed. His stubborn attitude and complete lack of self preservation meant it still needed time. "Six to eight weeks is what the doctor said, and he's pissed he has to miss this pay-per-view. But, we'll burn this in his honor, eh?"
Freyja winked at Show and dug in her pocket for a lighter, turning to face the interested camera man that began trotting towards the young woman and the gasoline-soaked effigy wearing an auburn wig. It was tacky and tawdry, but it would be fun to watch go up in flames. It wasn't the most outlandish thing she and her posse had done over the past several weeks. But, this was Kane's last week of recovery, and she wanted to make sure she'd done something grandiose before her husbands re-entrance, and she'd continue to terrorize and vandalize until she got what she wanted.
All she wanted was Lita in the ring.
As Edge went down for the three count in that steel cage, the camera flicked onto Freyja, standing before the wooden stick figure, a messy face drawn on a gasoline-soaked volleyball. This one was actually Hurricane's idea, which was easy to tell, due to the lack of property damage that was involved. She said nothing, only smirking. As she flipped on the Zippo, her finger lifted up to point at the camera, making it clear that even in Kane's absence, Freyja still had her eyes on the prize.
The camera flipped off, and the effigy was put out. Freyja grabbed the head off the stick statue and help it up towards show, making a face, tongue out.
"Now, last order of business? Sticking this piece of shit in the bitch's duffel bag!" Freyja cackled, as if Lita's poor duffel bag hadn't been through enough.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~
"Okay. I'm sure you all know why I'm out here." Lita stood center-ring, the RAW after Unforgiven. "But for those of you who don't recall, let have a look!"
The titantron flipped on, footage from last night reeling, the flames, the smirks, the pointing. Not to mention a clip of Lita finding the charred volleyball, her panicked screams echoed loud through the speaker system, sending off a roar through the crowd. The cameras back on Lita, she shook her head.
"Enough is enough." The redhead told the crowd, and turned to the entrance. "Freyja! Get out here and lets talk about this like adults!"
The familiar entrance music blared from the speakers and the chocolate-haired Basque woman strolled out to the ramp, mic in hand, manager trailing behind her. The young woman gazed out toward the ring smugly, her enemy pacing as if her feet were on fire, but she said nothing.
"Freyja, for the past two months you and your little posse have been terrorizing the rest of the roster. It has to end. What more do you want? I already said I was sorry. If its a title shot you want, that can be arranged. You want an annulment? Go right ahead! I don't care what you do with Kane." The older woman began to turn red in the face, forgetting to breathe for a moment. As she stopped to catch her breath, she saw Freyja at the top of the ramp shaking her head.
"Lita, Lita, Lita," she tsked. "You already know what I want. You already know that I don't care if you're sorry, I'm not interested in the title and I have no use for an annulment. Your little contract made sure of that. So, if I have to stay married to Kane, I thought I'd have a little fun. Lita, you know the only think I want, the only thing that will make all this stop? Is you," Freyja pointed a finger right at Lita. "In that ring, with me, so I can make you pay for what you did."
The crowd roared. For the last two months all that could be talked about was Kane and Freyja versus Edge and Lita.
"You know what? Fine." Lita relented. "Fine! I'll let you have your match."
"Great! You just tell me when. And I'm there." Freyja took a step towards the ring. "You wanna go right now?"
The crowd roared it's approval, wanting to watch these two ladies draw blood finally, after months.
"Let me finish!" Lita stopped the rookie in her tracks. The crows 'oohed' with curiosity. "I'll give you your match, if you can go toe to toe with a champion of my choosing, and win."
The WWE Universe erupted, so much so it was all Freyja could hear. She lifted the mic, about to say no, she wanted Lita, only Lita, but she dropped it again and turned to Andone, leaning over to her uncle. The muttering in Euskara could barely be heard through the hot mic still in Freyja's hand.
"What do you think, Andone?"
Andy sighed, looking his young niece in the eye. "I've tried to tell you, Freyja, none of it is a good idea."
Freyja rolled her emerald eyes. "Andone..."
"But!" her manager cut her off. "You want this. More than I've seen you want anything. If this is the only way you'll get it, I say go for it."
Freyja beamed, nodding quickly and clasping her uncle on the shoulder. The young woman turned to Lita, raising the mic to her lips she uttered, "Done."
"Next week, then." Lita agreed.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
"What the fuck were you thinking?"
It was the first set of words Kane said to his wife when she came through the doors to the backstage. He'd be allowed back next week
"I'm thinking I'm going to get my shot." Freyja dismissed, not looking at Kane.
"And you agreed without even asking me first?" Kane's voice started to raise and he stood from his spot on the bench adjacent the door she'd come through. Freyja stood her ground, unswayed.
"Oh, yeah, that'll make me look like a strong contender. 'Hold on, Lita, let me go backstage and ask Kane real quick'. Hell no! That's stupid, and it would make us look weak. I can handle any woman on this roster, let Lita throw whoever she wants at me."
"I'll have to agree with Freyja here, Kane, it-" Andone was cut short with a stare sharper than a razor blade from Kane.
"What's stupid is you agreeing at the drop of a hat! Freyja, she didn't even specify a gender. What if its someone like Viscera, someone like me?" Kane argued. She was going to fuck up everything they'd worked for with her knee-jerk reaction to agree to Lita's offer.
Shit. She thought, she hadn't thought of that. Trying to cover up she said, "She'd never pick you-"
"That's not the point!" Kane roared, beginning to draw the attention of quite the crowd.
"I can handle it, Kane." Freyja pushed back. Why did he even care?
Kane roared in frustration, turning his fist on the drywall behind him. He took a few breaths, letting himself get back to the point where he could talk. "You know what? Fine, go on and get yourself killed out there, I don't care." He leaned down, grabbing a firm hold of her face with one hand, palm covering the entire underside of her chin and then some, fingers digging into her cheeks. He bent down low to look in her defiant eyes, snarling, "But if you end up having bitten off more than you can chew, don't expect me to bail you out."
