Freyja still didn't have a plan. It had taken her the week and she still had no idea what to do. The week seemed to pass in slow motion, every day almost the same since they'd arrived in Milwaukee on Thursday. She'd wake up, go down to breakfast, meet the same pitying looks and knowing wicked smiles, work out with the same thoughts clouding her mind, make appearances with fans asking the same questions, and it would start all over again.

The only outlier was Saturday, when an unmarked box showed up at her hotel room door. In it was a note, inscribed with some of the most atrocious writing she'd ever seen.

I bought it for Lita. She never wore this. You will.

That was all. It was a simple enough request, to wear the dress. It wasn't an ugly dress, either. It also wasn't anything particularly special, just some strapless A-line number with chiffon for the skirt. She had it taken up a few inches, but it was otherwise ready to wear. Clean, white as snow.

It struck her as odd that she'd been mostly left out of the wedding planning. She wasn't sure who was in charge, but no one from the show had told her to plan anything for their... "segment", they called it. It was odd. Usually the bride was in charge of these things but, not this time, apparently.

The night came faster than expected, despite it being the slowest week ever. Kane had made himself scarce, locking himself up or just flat out ignoring everyone who came near. He'd done it before Lita, and now that she had thrown him out, he'd isolated himself again. For all his talk of how much so-called "fun" he'd have terrorizing his new wife, he hadn't made a move to. Freyja didn't seek him out, either. Best not to tempt fate.

Freyja stood before the vanity mirror. She should have been grateful for the room set aside, just for her. It should have been nice to get away from the stares for a while. But a part of her wished they could see, she wished they could all see, maybe someone could have stopped it if they saw this was actually happening right before their eyes.

Andone had been given a spot in the Men's Dressing Room, he belonged there if he was to be part of the show, he was told. He straightened his suit with a slight jostle and sized himself up in the mirror. He'd pictured this day, but not like this. Rounding the corner from the restrooms he saw his future Nephew-in-law, dressed head to toe in a white tuxedo, a rehash of his first wedding, large and uncoordinated fingers fiddling with a clip-on bowtie.

Ah, Andone thought to himself with woe, So its a retelling of a year old story. A "white wedding". He was sursure he knew who planned it know. Lita had decided that bastard should finally get his white wedding. But not woth her. Heavens, not with her. Though the wedding was a revamp of one already past, this time it seemed conterfeit. It was too flashy, yet sad and dissapointing in its undertone, almost, nay, definitely, a tawdry knockoff of its original apperance. Andone hated it, but, as he wagched Kane's unwilling fingers fumble the clip-on, he sighed a sight of defeat.

Be civil, Andy, please. Freyja's voice echoed in the man's head. He sighed a sigh of defeat. Fine. He'd be civil.

"What are you doing?" Andone asked, the locker room was mostly cleared out, the wedding was the second-to-last event and the earlier preformers who had no reason to stay had mostly at least packed and vacated the room if not left all together. No one wanted to watch the horror to come.

Kane looked up at the older man, staring him down, the intensity of his gaze not lost on Andone. "Clipping on this stupid tie."

Andone rolled his eyes. "A clip-on? At your own wedding?"

This question earned a quizzical look from the giant before him. Andone came closer, but Kane leaned back. The Basque undid his own white bowtie and took yet another step towards Kane. "Clip-ons are for boys, come closer."

The man left very little room for argument. Kane eyed him suspiciously, and replied, "Why?"

Andone held the bowtie still in one hand, and quickly nabbed the clip-on from the younger man with the other. "I have sworn to Freyja that I will be civil. And this is me, being civil. Now, do you trust me?"

Kane looked Andone up and down once more, his common sense telling him not to but, his eyes showed him that this man couldn't hurt him if he'd tried. Andone wasn't even 5'11. What was he going to do to Kane, the Big Red Monster? Kane scooted closer, Andone flipping up the wrestler's collar and getting to work.

Andone tied up the real bowtie in record tim, and instead of taking quick leave, his heart jumped into his throat as he braced his hands on either of Kane's shoulders. The smaller man knelt down in front of the behemoth, looked him in the eye despite the danger of it.

"Kane, I've no children of my own. Freyja is the closest I have to a daughter." he began.

Kane scoffed, "Your point?"

"Please, keep her safe. Keep her well. You're to be her husband, it's to be your job." Andone's hands had found their way folded atop one of Kane's.

The Demon jerked his hand away, staring at Andone's pleading eyes.

"No promises." Kane scoffed. It was half from disdain, half was from actual uncertainty. He'd been handed this, this porcelain doll, this slip of a woman to keep for his own but, he knew what always happened when fragile things were placed in his care. Katie, Lita, his own child. Freyja would be no different, and he was starting to lose control of those... damn... voices.

Andone's eyes cast downward as he stood, nodding slowly, but mute. He left the room quickly, leaving Kane alone.

Andone's brisk retreat found him at Freyja's door, a stage hand pulling him aside quickly, asking him if Kane was ready. It only meant one thing.

It was time.

Andone picked up the pace, needing thelat moment alone with his niece, and unsure how much time he had. The door to Freyja's dressing room creaked open to reveal the bride. She should have had her friends from the home country to attend her. Her mother should have been there, and Xabi, her father, to walk her down the aisle. But it all happened so fast, all she had was her old uncle. To Freyja, Andone was more than she could have asked for.

She stood upon his entrance, and he saw her in her full glory, hair done up, and gown reaching the floor with a small pool of white fabric trailing behind her. Andone approached his niece almost reverently. Each hand found its way to either side of her face, gazing deep into worried eyes he said,

"No bride was ever half as beautiful. And no man on Earth was ever half as brave." he told her, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, and they were words meant to placate. They did nothing of the sort.

Freyja shook her head silently, choking down the tears that threatened to well up. This wasn't an act of bravery. An act of bravery would be to kill the man in his sleep, running away was an act of cowardice so no, marrying Kane was neither of those. This was an act of passivity, it was complacency. She hated it. But she hadn't the wherewithal to kill a man and she'd be damned if she ran away, tail tucked between her legs.

Andone led her to the entrance to the arena, Kane had already gone into the gorilla, where he couldn't see her. Bad luck and all that. A stage manager ran up to her, thrusting a bouquet into her hands, all white, of course.

The young woman regarded the bouquet with a confused expression. She looked up at the manager, "Who picked these?"

"Lita." she replied. "Lita insisted on planning everything."

Freyja nodded and returned her attention to the flowers, scoffing at them. Chrysanthemums. Funeral flowers.

What an appropriate, yet uncalled for insult of a choice. And yet it was so, glaringly, painfully Lita.

The organ struck her introductory chords and she knew if was time. Ruefully linking arms with Andone, she was led to the gorilla, out to the arena, and down the ramp. She walked as slowly as possible, determined to stretch out her last remaining minutes of freedom.

Kane had since turned around, his characteristic evil grin plastered on his face as Freyja's manager led her up the steps. He released her reluctantly, exchanging a quick kiss on the cheek with his niece and a formal and impersonal handshake with Kane.

The ceremony went quite like one would expect. If this was to be a terrible parody of Kane's first wedding than the subpar vows were read in much the same manner. Property this, MINE that, whatever Kane has to tell himself to make himself feel better. Freyja thought, she was over it.

As the young woman read out her own insincere vows, she realized what it was that could rectify the situation. She droned on alsomt in autopilot while the answer skirted at the corners of her mind: Kane hated Lita. She'd cheated on him, thrown him away like trash. She'd tricked him into marrying some stranger. She'd broken his heart, what little heart he had, certainly.

Freyja hated Lita. She'd pretended to like her, befriended the young woman. Only to use her. Only to leave Freyja to fend for herself in a loveless marriage with the same monster she herself had gone to unspeakable lengths to avoid.

She'd use it. She'd use that mutual hatred of Lita to bond with this tank of a man. They'd take all that anger, all that hurt- and Lord knew there was a lot of it- and theyd direct it not at each other, but at the source. Freyja was over being a victim. She would not fall prey to Kane, she'd make Lita pay for tricking Freyja into falling prey to her. Kane might be displeased with his new wife, but Freyja was willing to bank on the hope that he hated Lita far more, she was willing to die for it. And that was just it: help Kane get revenge on Lita or die trying. It was simple, although dangerous.

Yes. It could work. She thought to herself, she could handle it, too busy plotting revenge to notice that everyone was looking at her expectantly.

She easily discerned what was asked and with great difficulty managed to choke out, "I do."

Kane moved the veil over her face to reveal her to the world, his giant hand wrapped around the small of her back and pulled her close, his lips decending on hers. He didn't wait for the preist to tell him he could, but why did he need to? Who would tell him no? No ever had before and come out in one peice, either physically or emotionally. The kiss was clumsy, and forceful, just like everything he did. Freyja could find no escape, but she had thought of something better than an escape.

The kiss over soon enough, though. The young woman was released. She smiled, as Kane's vice-like grip led her down the stairs, but not over the joys of matrimony. She smiled knew now, what exactly it was she had to do.