The four of them strode, dead silent, to the meeting room. The only sound was that of footsteps and breathing. They passed by a few other Superstars, and no one dared say a word. In the hall, Hurricane had stopped to chat with Trish, who'd long ago gotten over her embarrassment to be seen with him, but the two parted ways as they saw the feuding couples haul ass down the corridor.
Kane moved with little urgency behind Freyja. He hadn't said a word to her, hadn't glanced in her direction. Not even a rough, firm hand guiding her about like he always seemed to enjoy doing so much. Freyja knew she'd fucked up, she could feel heat radiate from her husband. It wasn't a soft or comforting warmth, but heat, angry, and hard. She'd do anything, anything at all just to have him look at her again.
The moment of truth had come, far sooner than wanted or expected. Within a small conference room, around a wooden oval table not unlike where this all started, sat Eric Bischoff, Andone Katixa, and Vince McMahon himself. All eyes were on the two women, looking a bit worse for the wear but very, very much alive.
The two couples took seats on opposite sides of the table, each staring the other down. Vince finally broke the silence,
"Are you done now?"
There was no question who he was addressing. Freyja's green eyes flicked to Vince, then back to Lita, who couldn't bring herself to look up from the wood grain. The young Basque said nothing.
"This brought ratings, yes, but..." Eric rubbed at the bridge of his nose wearily. "We can't have you killing each other an more "
Lita nodded slowly, drawing agreement from Edge, and Freyja pursed her lips, the slightest of motions from her nodding head. Kane didn't move, and said nothing, his mind was elsewhere, his thoughts preoccupied by one stupid, hard, difficult young woman.
"Now, Freyja," Vince piped up, sliding a small stack of papers her direction, leaving another stack before him. "We've met with Andone here, and I think we've reached a compromise."
Freyja drug the papers over to her, on the header she read:
Smackdown
Application and Contract for Employment
WWE, INC.
"We are willing to move you to Smackdown. This will get you away from Lita, and lessen the animosity on RAW. Now that the fued is settled and you got what you wanted, the audience needs to get over it, too." Vince went on to Freyja who was barely listening. "That's the best solution we came up with. There's a clause in there that will hire you to Smackdown, annul your marriage to Kane, and set you free from RAW. If you promise not to harass Lita or Edge any longer."
Freyja thumbed through the pages, whilst Kane tried to his his fury. His face reddened, fists clenched. He was pissed at Freyja, but he wasn't done with her. He'd make her love him if he had to, but first he couldn't let her sign that contract. How dare they try to rob him of his property?
They're gonna take her away from you.
Before Kane could react, Freyja pushed the contract away. "No."
The table shifted all eyes to the young brunette, who looked around nervously at the surprised faces. "No I- I think I'm done."
"You don't have to quit, Freyja, just sign the papers and-"
"No." She interrupted Bischoff. "I've been decieved, given away like a broodmare, forced to marry, forced by circumstance to take revenge. I've stolen shit, broken shit, broken people... I'm done. You people are fucking crazy." Freyja directed at Lita mostly. "And this place makes me crazy. I think I'm done."
Mr. McMahon nodded pensively, gazing down at the other stack of papers. "I thought you might say that."
The Smackdown contract was replaced by a new, different stack of paper. Freyja saw on the letterhead:
Self-Elected Termination of Employment
"You can leave, if you want." He said.
Freyja grabbed the contract, pulling it over to get a better look. Learning her lesson from months ago, she read through the clauses. The usual, agreement to leave the company, cessation of performances, where to forward her final check to and...
"Can I amend this?" She turned to Vince expectantly. Pointing out the final clause of the contract.
"Cross it out and well take care of it." He nodded.
Freyja grabbed one of the pens. Unclicking it, and with surety that it was what she wanted, she confidently crossed out the words of the paragraph that ended the contract-
"... annulment of her marriage to her husband, hereafter referred to as, 'Kane'..."
- she scribbled her signature quickly, closing the document and pushing it towards the boss. She slid her chair back, standing and briskly retreating from the room. The door shut behind her with a soft click.
"Freyja!" Her uncle yelled after her, making to pursue.
"Andy..." Kane snapped, eyes flickering to Andone's chair as the older man got the hint, lowering himself softly back into the office chair he once sat in. Kane himself left the room, leaving whatever conversation was to be had between the bosses and Lita to them and them alone. As he plodded out, he saw his wife, seated on a bench with her head in her hands. He approached her slowly, unsure what she was doing. She'd crossed out the paragraph divorcing them, crossed it out completely. She must be crazy.
The young woman looked over at Kane, who stood before her, towering over her smaller frame.
"I owe you an apology." Her voice shook, and the confession intrigued the monster, but he still didn't feel sorry for her, or the situation she'd found herself in. He turned, taking a seat beside her as she went on. "I shouldn't have reacted the way I did yesterday. I... I wanted to hold on to that anger. I thought it would help me."
Kane sniffed and leaned back on the bench, his weight causing it to creak.
"It didn't." She concluded. "It only caused pain. It hurt me. And... it hurt you, I think. It made me afraid. I know you aren't... like everyone else, and I don't know what it means to be wanted by you. To be loved by someone like you. By someone who was forced on me, and to- to feel the same way about them." Freyja finally admitted. Kane hid his surprise, but leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees, paying closer attention to her words. "That idea scares the shit out of me, Kane. I'm sorry for acting that way I did last night, but I really am terrified. I don't know how to love you."
She finally turned her body to look at his face, blank, near expressionless, she couldn't get a read on him. Facing him she said, "But I want to find out."
Kane was very, very quiet, for a very long time. Freyja was left to wonder if he was preparing to tell her to go fuck herself, that she'd fucked up, that he didn't want her any more. Instead, his fists clenched on the edge of the bench, knuckles turning bright white. He muttered to himself, barely audible,
"Mine."
"What?"
He wasn't listening to her, he was too busy thinking. Even after all this, after he'd kicked her out into the dark interstate highway, she was still here? Wanting him? Needing him? She was given the option for freedom from him, and she flat out denied it. No one had ever chosen him before. She was his.
He repeated himself, this time it was an almost lupine snarl, "Mine."
"Kane?" Freyja was starting to worry, she saw every muscle in his body was tensed, like a snake ready to strike. Before she had a chance to do anything else, Kane had wrapped an arm around her, hid large free hand pulling at her hip, pulling her ever closer to him, tightly as if she might disappear from his bone-crushing grip. She winced slightly in pain, but he didn't seem to notice. She tentatively let her hands rest on his shoulders, and he hummed at the tough, pulling in even tighter and letting his head rest in the crook of her neck. He couldn't get any closer to her but damn, did he try. He felt wanted, for the first time in a long time, truly wanted. He wanted to absorb her, consume her, become one person with her, but this was as close as he could get to that. The hand that held her by the wast moved to stroke languidly up her back. She whimpered slightly as it passed over the sprains and bruises, but let him do whatever it was he seemed to need. His hand moved around to her side again, through her arms to her face, hovering there so very, very close to her but never actually touching her cheek. He drew back to look at her, gauging her reaction.
"Mine" He whispered again, for the last time. This time it sounded almost like a question, a hope, a silent prayer she might affirm. He said it like she didn't believe she was real, just a figment of his imagination.
Freyja realized what he meant. She was his, and she knew this. She didn't know why she'd chosen him, but she knew that she just had. She'd denied herself the ability to just walk away from him. She may regret it later, she was almost certain, but something about the way Kane was looking at her, beggin her to be his, drove her. They'd struggled and fought and and failed and struggled again. They had been angry, emotional, and awkward as all hell. But she finally felt free to want him, the depth of her need growing less deniable by the day.
She grasped at his wrist, still hovering, and pulled it in so his palm made contact with her cheek, and, looking into those mismatched eyes, assured him with a whisper,
"Yours."
Nothing ever felt more right to her than that very moment. In that moment, the young Basque had found peace, a rare commodity given her lot in life. Kane never thought he'd hear those words, and there were no better words on earth. Perhaps he'd been dealt better cards than he originally thought.
