Andone held the ice pack up to his cheek, just like the medic told him to. He hissed in pain as he moved it, to be able to look at Freyja as she came back stage, Lita following close behind.
"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, rushing over to her uncle and kneeling before the bench he sat on. Gingerly, she cupped his face in her hands and moved the ice pack just so, to get a better look at the wound. "What happened to you?"
Andone grunted, "Ah. Got attacked."
"Holy shit!" Lita took it upon herself to drop down next to Freyja. "Any idea who could have done it?" She masked her sick pleasure with the state of Freyja's manager. Edge really did a number on the man.
Andone shook his head ruefully. "Attacked from behind mostly. Not even sure of it was a man or a woman."
Freyja rolled up from the ground to sit next to him and shot a nervous look at Lita. It couldn't have been her, she was in the ring. Maybe a misguided attack by that blonde fellow? Or Kane, her husband? She'd have no way of proving it, but she'd figure it out. Maybe it was some other group entirely, wanting a peice of the fresh meat? Freyja shook her head,
"Well, whoever it is, I'm going to find out who did this to you, and they are a dead man." She vowed, fingertips brushing his darkening cheek.
Andone waved her off, "We'll just figure out who it was, and decide whether to press charges from there."
Freyja rolled her eyes like she was 13 again. Press charges? Really? "No, Andone, not in a place like this." She clasped his shoulder one final time before rising to make her way to the dressing room. "If someone wrongs you, you beat the shit out of them. That's how this works. You gonna be okay for a while?"
Andone gave her a quick, curt nod.
"Good, I'll meet you here later." She shot a look at Lita, who seemed a bit caught up in a hushed discussion with her "monster" husband.
Out of Freyja's earshot, Kane had whispered, "You didn't tell me you were gonna sign that live."
Lita had to admit, to the unknowing mind it did seem like a weird thing to sign live. There wasn't a title on the line it was just a title shot. The locker room had to be confused. But no matter, all would be revealed, and very soon at that.
Lita looked up at him and batted innocent lashes. "Oh, did I forget to mention? Sorry about that."
Kane scowled at her, unsure how to respond, but whatever he might have said was cut off by a 5-foot brunette laying he hands on either of Lita's shoulders from behind.
"See you next week," Freyja beamed, and ribbed Lita once more, "and remember, I'm gonna kick your ass next week."
With that Freyja withdrew, gave Lita a small wink, and sauntered off down the hall toward the locker room. Lita shook her head, so naïve.
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
The week flew by quicker than anticipated. Lita had expected it to be the longest week of her life, given that sweet freedom was so close but so far away. But, here she was, as if she'd blinked and suddenly she was on next week's RAW. She'd insisted her match with Freyja go last. No one was sure why, except, of course, the mastermind behind this plan and yes, Mr. McMahon. Kane stood behind her, silent and brooding as always, hand cupping her shoulder as he gazed above her head, watching the match beforehand.
"You ready?!" Freyja swept up to Lita's side, catching her by suprise. She was noticeably excited, and looked more ready than ever to get out there. Lita looked her up and down, her wrestling gear was a matching white set, with arabesques the color of blood.
How like a sacrificial lamb she looked in those colors. How eager she was to be lead to the altar, not knowing she was the fodder. If it weren't for the nerves, perhaps Lita would have shed a tear for her. Lita reminded herself she didn't have that privilege. Freyja wouldn't be needing her sympathy, she likely wouldn't want it. After she was done with her, there would be plenty of people to shed a tear for Freyja Kutlass.
Lita smiled confidently and nodded quickly. "I was born ready. You?"
Freyja chuckled, "Nervous."
Lita shook her head at the younger woman. Oh, you have no idea. "You'll do fine out there. I promise."
Freyja offered up an unsure smile, eyes venturing to Kane, who just glowered down at the two women, as he did to everyone. Freyja dared to speak, trying to ease the tension of being stared down: "So will you, notice you brought your moral support!"
Lita rolled her eyes internally, more like my ball and chain. She thought to herself, but nodded toward her opponent. Before she could respond, the announcement started rolling.
Lita's heart jumped, it was time.
Leaving Kane behind, she stepped out into the arena.
The crowd cheered, they always did. Ever since the untimely death of her unborn son, she'd had the them all on her side. She treasured it, after tonight she wasn't so sure what would happen with the crowd.
Freyja emerged next, her heavy, progressive guitar riffs blaring through the speakers, that damned white and blood red attire standing out against her black background. Lita ignored her instinct to leave the arena and rip up the contract. She'd come this far.
The bell rang, the match officially underway. Lita had rehearsed this in her head multiple times. She'd never thrown a match before, and she wasn't sure if she would be able to. She swallowed, knowing she had to, if this were to work.
The ladies circled each other, sizing one another up like wolves would. Freyja advanced first, locking up with Lita for a moment. Eyes met, and Freyja pushed back hard, throwing Lita back first into the ropes.
Lita jettisoned forward, but the ropes were like rubber bands, everyone knew that, so it wasn't unexpected. She stopped just short of her adversary's clothesline, grabbing tight to her for a Twist of Fate. She'd stolen that one from Matt, who was long gone in her memory.
Not too rough, She said to herself. Do it for Edge.
Freyja writhed on the ground for a moment, Lita circling around the ring, making it seem like she was simply toying with the younger woman. Lita was a cat that kept pawing at a moth that refused to die. She stopped to stand before Freyja, just about to drag her up, this wasn't going to work if one hit put Freyja out of her misery.
Freyja looked up at the woman who stood before her and shot her a wicked, toothy smile. Her game of Possum was over and she lept to her feet, landing a sick uppercut on her way up. Lita stumbled back, distracted, allowing Freyja to grab her arm, ready to throw her in the corner turnbuckle, but the move was soon reversed.
Freyja's back hit the unforgiving turnbuckle with no small amount of force. She looked up to see the other woman running full force, ready to leap into her. The younger woman ducked just as Lita's feet left the ground and she somersaulted toward center-ring. The older woman's feet found no target, and her legs hooked in the rope as she was suspended momentarily on the ropes, upside down.
Freyja took the opportunity to cross back over the ring and reward Lita with a swift kick to the abdomen. Lita curled up in pain, taking time to notice Freyja took her off the ropes, climbing up the corner deftly. Lita lay there, watching her, and waited for the right time. Freyja's backflip ended in disaster, her body hit nothing but ring, as Lita had rolled out of the way.
The younger woman rolled backwards, her body reaching Lita as she went for the pin, arm hooked aroung the leg and ignoring the pain in her spine.
1... 2...
Lita figured she needed to kick out at least once, as a matter of pride.
Both women stood, the veteran just a bit faster, and she grabbed Freyja to throw her to the ropes, Lita taking the opposite side and hitting her with a heavy clothesline. Freyja went down like a ton of brocks, but from her position on the ground, managed to land a kick to the knee.
Lita dropped to her level, and Freyja landed a left elbow right to Lita's jaw, hard. Even Lita had to admit that was good enough to finish, but she fought back. The women traded blows until eventually Lita decoded it was good enough. She feigned her exhaustion, collapsing on the ring. Freyja lept up to climb the nearest turnbuckle, finishing off her opponent with a Moonsault.
Lita felt Freyja's force come down on her, and she decided to end it. She could have kicked out, turned this around, ended this deception, but she instead just waited. She rebelled against every instinct, every part of her body screamed at her to kick out, her nerve synapses firing on all ends but thankfully the count came quickly-
1... 2... 3...
That was it. It was over. It was so, so short but Lita had thrown the match expertly. No one but her would have ever known if not for what she'd soon reveal was at stake. Then, it would be no mystery why she'd thrown the match.
Freyja was on the moon, fueled by the cheering. She'd get her title match after all. Running over to the corner, she propped herself up on the second turnbuckle and extended her arms to the crowd. She repeated the action on each corner as Lita struggled to get up. She may have thrown the match, and she was confident she could have made quick work of her opponent, but Freyja had talent, there was no denying. Each corner the younger woman visited drew a larger cheer.
Lita sat up, and laboriously, but eventually, stood in the center of the ring. She recieved the microphone she had beckoned for, the announce table intern ran quickly to hand it off through the ropes. Freyja noticed the exchange and looked at Lita expectantly. The whole crowd saw the mic in her hand and waited with baited breath to see what the loser of the match had to say.
"Y'know," Lita paused to catch her breath. "I'm so glad you're happy about this." She teased sarcastically. Why, no one knew. Lita continued,
"I'm glad you won you... deserve some time in the spotlight."
Freyja moved closer and held her hand out for the mic, which Lita happily placed in her palm. "Guess its good that I won your title shot then, huh?" she asked with a wink.
Lita snatched the mic back and cackled.
"You stupid bitch, you aren't getting a title shot." Lita retorted, the snark evident in her voice. The crowds of folks gasped at Lita's choice of foul language. "Don't you understand?"
Freyja motioned for her own mic, suddenly not too keen on sharing the mic with her adversary. The same intern ran one up quick amongst the cacaphony of curios voices. Freyja's brow furrowed as she lifted the mic, "No, I'm afraid I don't."
Lita shook her head, smiling widely, it was almost over, and her giddiness knew no bounds. "Freyja, theres no title shot."
The crowd oooohed at that reveal. Freyja wanted to throw the mic down, give that bitch a second beat down, but she pressed the anger down, determined to let Lita say her peice.
"I threw the match. Of course I did, you thought you could beat me?" Lita continued, veginning to get blanketed in a chorus of Boos. "You didn't read the fine print on that contract you signed. Hell, you didn't even read the contract at all. But, you still get the suprise I promised."
Lita paused for effect.
"I wanted you to have it. You want to know what you won Freyja? I'll tell you what you won." The woman made a little flick of her wrist and the Titantron flicked on to show the face of her husband, brow furrowed and watching attentively to the monitor, paying no mind the the camera that had been stuck in his face. The audience was thrown into an uproar. They knew what Lita was hinting at far before anyone else involved.
"You've won Kane." Lita said with finailty, earning a look of shock and utter confusion from the younger wrestler. "That's right, this contract you signed? He signed it, too, and so did I. It states you'll marry Kane, in ring, next week, and that Kane and I are annulled, effective immediately."
Freyja dropped the mic. It dropped with a loud thud that echoed through the arena.
There were no words, there was no reaction that could fully articulate the depth of shock she felt. As Lita went on about how this allowed her the freedom to see her real man, the one she'd cheated on her husband withfor months, that blonde man from the hotel, that Edge. It started to make sense. The pieces came together while Freyja watched Lita rejoice at her freedom, only to trap Freyja.
She watched the crowd pulsate, she thought she heard some boos, maybe some cheers, she wasnt sure, her vision was hyperfocused only on Lita's smug face. She laughed and careened and called Edge a "real man"... whatever the fuck that was supposed to mean.
Flames shot up from the top of the ramp behind her, and a guitar riff that Freyja was suprised to say she recognized flipped on. Oh, how could she not recognize it now? Down the ramp he came, 7 feet, 300 hundred pounds, Demon from Hell, all brimstone, all anger. It looked like steam rose from his skin. She saw him march down the path with a snarl on his face before her vision went dark at the edges.
She couldn't hear, barely noticed the movement of the crowd. She couldn't see Lita and oh my god I cant see anyone at all, anywhere.It's white, just white. Where am I?
Freyja had, of course, been staring at the ring floor. She wasn't sure which part of her body hit the ground first. She didn't know how she caught herself, must have just been instinct. Before anyone could do anything Freyja had collapsed near the ropes, hands and knees posted on the unforgiving ring surface. She gasped desperately for air and turned her dark head to the left, she saw only feet shuffling around in the 10x10 square.
Her eyes panned up for a shaky image of a very smug Lita and a red-faced Kane. She saw them only as only blurs, or she saw them as photo-captures, impressions of emotion against a black background and under lights that were too bright. Kane raised his hand, and even though Freyja couldn't hear shit she knew he must have been a half second from hurting Lita or... someone.
A second figure moved in and knocked the giant off his feet, dragging Lita from the ring. Freyja came to, only to see valiant Edge saving Poor Little Victim Lita from the ring. They left Freyja in the ring with the Monster. They left her there.
Slowly she found her footing, slowly she stood, to gaze on the form of a demon whose attention had changed courses. Lita was long gone, he didn't care to go agter her, for the time being at least. His attention had found a new target, cornered in the turnbuckle. Freyja hadn't meant to show her fear, but it showed all the same. She looked straight up at his face and couldn't decide if it was twisted because it was real or because she still couldn't see straight.
He grabbed her arm, squeezed tight and (dear God it is like fire burning my skin get off GET OFF.) she couldn't have moved if she wanted to while he snarled, "We need to talk."
Freyja had no capacity to argue and, he was right. They did need to talk.