"I don't think you should do it." Kane blurted out on the relatively quiet drive to Seattle.

Freyja's gaze shot over to Kane in surprise, brow furrowed. "What?"

"I want you to stop." Kane pressed, looking out on the interstate. "Bow out."

"Kane, I'm not going to just up and quit out of nowhere. If I can just hang on a little while longer, I'm sure-"

"No, Freyja!" he snapped, interrupting her, the boom of his voice reverberated through the SUV, startling his wife a bit a bit.

"Why do you even care, Kane? It's not like you even want me around as anything other than a receptacle for your seed." Freyja bit.

The Monster recoiled, his hurt turning bery quickly to anger.

"I'm a freak and a monster for a lot of reasons, Freyja." he growled and looked out the window on his side. He'd seen more every day what this revenge quest had done to her. She was consumed by it, as he was always consumed with rage. But he was used to it. She wasn't as strong as him, she was different, better, he told himself. She'd had a normal childhood in the countryside with goats and chickens and a family that loved her, she hadn't lived in pain as he had. She couldn't handle it. "I refuse to be labeled a freak for not wanting my own wife to destroy herself. Look at you."

She'd barely slept this week, she hadn't eaten. All she did was train and stew in righteous fury. This match was taking her from him. The only woman that ever made an effort, and she was wasting away.

He didn't want to say it. Admit he cared what happened to her, admit that he...

"Freyja. I-"

"KANE!" She yelled.

The first thing he did was slam on the brakes, thinking some sort of animal had run into the road and that was why she was yelling at him so. He saw nothing.

The second thing he did was look over at Freyja, her eyes wide with horror. More horror than when she'd looked up at him in that ring the day she found out what her prize was. More horror than their wedding day. More than anytime he'd lost his temper with her.

The car was silent, the air stagnant, heavy. Freyja's mouth was dry when she whispered, silently but forcefully, "Don't."

Kane growled again, voice raised, "Why the fuck not?!"

"Because this can't be over until my match tomorrow, and I don't know how much longer I can do this if we're just going to end up happy together." Freyja spit the last words out like a bad taste in her mouth.

"Fuck! Freyja, what do you want? Do you want to be miserable? Because you and I both know that I can arrange that." He threatened.

If she doesn't want to love you, she will fear you.

"I just need to be able to do this, and I know that if I let you say, what you're about to say..." Freyja ran her hands through her hair. "God, you're gonna make everything so fucking complicated."

Tires screeched on the highway pavement as Kane jerked the wheel to the shoulder and slammed on the brakes. The car was dead silent save for the soft click, click, click of the emergency flashers.

"Get out." Kane deadpanned.

Freyja looked out the window, it was dark, cold, there weren't any lights on this part of the highway, and only God knew how far away from Seattle they were. Freyja felt a twinge of fear at the thought of having to walk down the highway alone at night.

"Kane, please don't-"

"Out!" Kane barked.

"You can't just kick me out of the car, Kane!" Freyja yelled back, as Kane's arm reached across the passengers seat and opened the door for her. Cool air flooded the cabin, but Freyja stayed put. Kane shoved his hand between her and the center console and unbuckled her seat belt.

"NOW, FREYJA!" Her safety be damned, he was too pissed to even see straight.

"Fuck you, Kane!" Freyja undid the rest of her seatbelt, hopping out of the car into the chilly late night air. Kane reached in the back, grabbing her coat and throwing it unceremoniously at her before she slammed the door. Rubber squealed on pavement as she watched her husband speed off in the car through the tears welling up in her eyes. She dug in all her pockets, turning up nothing.

"Fuck!" She yelled to no one in particular as the occasional car buzzed past in the darkness. She'd left her phone in Kane's rental. Fixing her coat and zipping it up, she huffed a sigh in her anger.

There was nothing to do but start walking.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Kane pulled into the hotel parking lot, finally somewhere where he could gather his thoughts, not ready to go inside. He sat in the drivers seat of the Escalade just staring out the window stewing in his anger. The longer he sat, the more irritated he got, the hotter his ears grew, he could feel the blood rushing to his head. It all was too much, and he found his hands had began to beat on the steering wheel until...

Rrrrriiinnng! Rrrrrriiinnnnggg!

That wasn't his ringtone. He reached over to the passenger side door and rummaged through the compartment, retrieving Freyja's little black flip phone. He flipped it open just to stop the ringing and held it up to his ear.

"What?!" He snapped.

"Hey, I-" Andone's familiar voice was cut off as he realized it wasn't his niece that had answered the phone. "Kane?"

Kane said only, "Yeah." then sniffed and cleared his throat which had gone dry from his yelling. He flexed his fingers, palms of his hands had begun to get sore already.

"Can I talk to Freyja, please?"

"No."

Andone huffed, Kane could tell the older man was starting to get irritated. The other end was silent for a while. "Why not? Where is she?"

"I don't know, somewhere off Interstate 5." Kane excused lamely.

"WHAT?"

"Bye." The Devils favorite Demon hung up the cell before he even got the opportunity for a tongue-lashing from his uncle in law, leaving Andone to scramble for his own rental keys, storming out the door of his suite.

"Oh! Hey, Andy, I wanted to talk to you about-" A cute, blonde young woman pranced down the hallway toward her friend's manager.

"No time!" he interrupted. "Kane left Freyja somewhere on the interstate now you either come with me to help me look for her or whatever you need can wait."

He said all this as he speed-walked down the maroon carpet, cream-colored walls whirring past, letting Trish jog after him.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Freyja didn't get it. She probably never would. At least he could say he'd tried now. He couldn't go into that hotel, he couldn't face the empty room that awaited him, so he instead holed himself up in some tiny dive bar.

Kane lifted the last of his drink to his lips, 'Bad to the Bone' blaring out of the jukebox for the fifth time because some dumb-ass 21 year old boys thought it would be funny to annoy the shit out of everyone in the bar. Draining what little was left in the glass, he all but slammed it back down on the table. He'd heard the glass crack, and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it had broken, but all the liquor in the world couldn't have prepared him to look down and see blood literally gushing out of his palm. Kane just sat there and stared at his palm, for the longest time, unsure what to do in his half-drunken stupor. The only thing that snapped him out of it, the withered voice of the short, grey haired bartender exclaiming,

"Oh! Honey, your hand!" she gasped, taking the behemoths bleeding hand in hers and using a free hand to open the hatch and stand at the customers side of the bar. "Dana, I'm gonna take this big fella in the back, will you cover for a second?"

Kane heard the other bartender say something to the effect of 'Yeah, sure, whatever.' and he was led by a surprisingly strong grandma to a small restroom in the back of the bar.

This wasn't a customers restroom. Only one room, there was a tiny placard below the mirror that read EMPLOYEES MUST WASH HANDS,and only one toilet with a small sink in the corner. The little old woman dragged a steel stool over to the overflow drain in the center of the floor and instructed him to sit.

"Hold that hand over the drain and stay put." she ordered.

Kane hated being told what to do, but something about the woman's tone made him stay put. She seemed like the kind of person who'd hunt him down and drag him back to the stool by his ear-assuming she could reach that high- if she could. And if he was to be truthful, he didn't feel like bothering with it.

She came back soon enough, toting a big-ass First Aid kit and a folding chair. Setting up in front of him, she dutifully set the kit on her lap and opened it up, pulling out a canister of rubbing alcohol. Finding it empty, she muttered, 'Shit' and left once more.

The woman came back yet again, holding an unopened bottle of vodka, uncapped it and looked up at a slightly intoxicated Demon. "This is gonna hurt like a bitch."

Kane already knew that. He'd had his share of wounds, broken bones, and lacerations in his day, and he'd only started getting professional medical attention recently, instead of the basement of someone Paul "knew" that had their medical license revoked for malpractice. Even now that he saw a real doctor it was a struggle to get him to go. He slurred, "Okay."

The elderly woman's shaking hand poured the clear liquid on his open wound and Kane hissed loudly at the pain, holding his hand out flat and still until the stinging died down. He was handed a wad of cotton gauze.

"Hold that till the bleeding stops." he was instructed by the lady, who's nametag read MARIA.

Kane nodded silently, feeling himself getting stared down by Maria. He hummed, "Hm?"

"What's got you so on edge you feel the need to break my glasses, hos?" She pressed, and Kane shook his head.

"Nothing. Fucking Bad to the Bone playing eighteen fucking times." He grumbled, pressing painfully down on the new gash on his hand.

The Bartender laughed. "Oh, Bad to the Bone's a great song! Something else is going on. I can tell."

"What's got you so sure?" Kane quipped.

"Woman's intuition." she shrugged. "And the fact you've been staring at that wedding ring most of the night. Who's the lucky lady?"

"Girl named Freyja." he felt the words spilling out of his mouth. He had wanted to tell her it was none of her god damned business, but the alcohol hadn't quite made that work out. Too many words.

"I knew I recognized you! You're that wrestler, Kane, right?" The woman clasped him on the shoulder and went on. "Man, was all of that stuff real?"

Kane shrugged abysmally. "Real as it can possibly get."

"Wow. How can you possibly make that work?"

Kane shook his head, clamping down on the gauze and rubbing his face in his un-bloodied hand. "It isn't."

Maria nodded her head slowly, making a sympathetic 'hm' in her throat. "And that's why you're here drinking your sorrows away and gazing at your ring like a sad puppy?"

Kane snorted indignantly. "I don't look like a sad puppy."

"Sure." Maria mused, sounding unconvinced. She opened his hand a bit, inspecting the wound closely, grabbing a fresh piece of gauze and started wrapping his large, meaty hand.

"She keeps... running from me. Not physically just..." he trailed off while Maria took her time patching him up.

"She cheatin'?"

"No, but she's damn near killed herself. Gets pissed when I tell her I don't want her killing herself." Jesus he's had more than he thought. Who the fuck was this lady and why did he think it was time to air out the dirty laundry? Perhaps he'd stopped caring, maybe it was the liquor, maybe it was the culmination of everything.

Maria hummed. "Can I give you some advice?"

"No."

The old woman laughed. "Well, I stopped you from bleeding to death so too bad, humor me."

Kane glared at her, and she only smiled back without fear. "Girls her age, women like her, they think they can handle it all on their own. No offense hun, but you aren't the most approachable of people. You want her to stay honest, try using a little compassion."

Kane scoffed, watching Maria skillfully finished wrapping his injured hand. "I don't do compassion."

"I know you don't, sugar." she placated, packing her kit back up.

Kane didn't respond, but let Maria pipe up again, "Now, you're free to go, but I don't suggest getting another glass of Glenlivet, it's almost last call anyway. Go back from wherever you came, you've lost a lot of blood."

Maria left rather abruptly, leaving Kane to sit alone on the stool on the bathroom floor. He left as well after a moment, paid his tab, and strode out into the cool evening outside.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The chill of Seattle night air bit Freyja to the bone. She adjusted her coat, nestling a little deeper in its waning warmth, hot tears stinging her eyes. Just a few more miles and she'd be at the Extended Stay, she'd be at Andone's hotel. All she had to do was keep walking, and try not to think about Kane.

She'd made a mistake, she told herself, letting herself get this close to Kane. She should be happy she'd pissed him off, gotten herself kicked to the curb, now she could focus on her match. All he would do was worry for her, try to protect her and mess everything up. They couldn't be happy.

Not yet.

But even as she told herself all this his absence lingered

It consumed her and left a hole where he should be. He, his very essence, had taken up real estate in her that she was currently trying desperately to fill with empty words and half truths. She didn't need him, she didn't need him, she didn't need him.

A lone car on the highway screeched almost to a halt, the window rolled down and it's driver yelled over the roar of horns honking and the whirring of the cars driving past, "Freyja?!"

She looked over to the drivers side. That damn Canadian.

"What the fuck Freyja?" he yelled from afar.

"Leave me alone, Edge!" She warned, but he hated listening and he hated being told what to do.

"No, get in the car." His demands fell on deaf ears.

"I'm not getting in the car with you."

"Fine!" Edge yelled back, turning on his hazard lights and rolling achingly slowly down the highway, drawing ire from more of his fellow drivers. Freyja kept walking trying to ignore him, but after about the third bus honking angrily by, she turned again.

"What the fuck are you doing?" She yelled at him.

"It's dangerous out here." He called back, "So, you're either getting in the damn car or I'm just gonna drive right next to you until you get where you're going." Freyja was stubborn, but Edge was worse.

"Whatever! Just go!" Freyja didn't even want him here. He could go back to his happy-ever-after romance and stick it where the sun didn't shine for all Freyja cared. But he wasn't moving and eventually she screamed. "FINE."

She stumbled into Edges car and slammed the door way too hard, looking away from the man's scrutiny. Her cheeks had turned red in the cold, her mascara ran down her face, eyes bloodshot. She'd obviously been crying, and he wondered what had happened for Kane to kick her out of the car on the interstate. Maybe he'd done it just for the fun of it.

Freyja gazed out at the dark night, having immediately regretted entering the vehicle with the enemy. Edge didn't care, he locked the door to keep her from trying to escape. "Where are you going?"

"Extended Stay." She almost whispered.

"Really? You're going back to him?" Edge couldn't believe it. The second time in as many weeks he'd found her alone, upset, after having been completely at Kane's mercy. Edge felt something deep within... guilt?

"It's Andy's hotel." Freyja relented demurely.

The remainder of the car ride was silent. Edge didn't what had happened, and Freyja never offered an explanation. Eventually, Freyja drifted off, unable to control the fatigue any longer. Pulling into the Extended Stay, Edge shook her awake.

"We're here." He told her, and she unbuckled her seatbelt fast and made to walk briskly into the hotel. Before she shut the door Edge called out again, "Freyja?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm not gonna tell Lita."

The young woman was silent, staring at him for a few moments before giving him a tight-lipped smile and muttering, "Thanks."

When Andy and Trish finally returned from their search, coming up empty handed, the older man was having a conniption.

That is, until, they found a lone, very tired looking Freyja slumped at the door of Andone's room, smiling up at them she said, "Hey, guys."