Chapter 7

Silence reigned as they walked, though Jon would have to stop every now and then to sign autographs and he even allowed a few pictures to be taken. Fans were the backbone of a wrestler's career. A wrestler could be pushed and pushed and pushed, but at the end of the day, if the fans didn't have their back, they weren't going to go very far. Not without being crammed down their faces and throats, and everyone knew how that tended to play out. By the time their flight was called, he was feeling it in his fingers; it had been a while since he had to do that and snorted at the look Tressa gave him.

"You could have swept in and saved me." He was joking.

"And take you away from your loving, adoring fans? Absolutely not! I know you've missed signing autographs and being swarmed."

There were quite a few women who were scandalously dressed, flashing their goods to Jon in hopes of getting a shot with him. It happened with a lot of the wrestlers, both male and female. Fans were crazy, especially at airports. Tressa was thankful she wasn't in the spotlight like Jon or the others because she wasn't sure she could handle the constant grind and satisfying every tom, dick, and harry that crossed her path.

Truth be told, Jon had had his fair share of crazy fans, a lot of it due to the stunts he had pulled back in his 'wilder', Indie days. One woman had wanted him to sign her rather bountiful breasts. She had appeared at a show the next night with said tits on display and apparently she had gotten his autograph tattooed over, so his signature was now permanently inked there. He wondered how, so many years later, that was panning out for her.

"Mmm, well aren't you just a bundle of laughs?" He teased dryly, moving in line with her, their carry-on in their hands, tickets at the ready. A few days off, downtime, in Vegas was just what the doctor ordered.

If he could get her outside for a bit, maybe he could get some color back into those pale cheeks.

"What can I say? You're a bad influence on me, Good."

Tressa also had a good night's sleep and woke up feeling marginally better than she had in months. Even with the hangover, which wasn't as bad since she hadn't killed a bottle of Absolut. With Jon's warmth and comfort, them talking, she had only drunk a quarter of the bottle before passing out. Her breakdown earlier in the day at the rest stop didn't help matters either and had tired her out. Once they were boarded, seated, and buckled in, Tressa leaned her head back against the seat and looked over at Jon, who was staring out the window.

"I appreciate what you're doing for me, Jon." It was hard to believe a girl that stood a mere 5'4 would befriend a man that was exactly one foot taller than her. "I owe you."

Everyone was short compared to him, so Jon had stopped thinking about 'she's tiny', 'he's tall', 'she's a goddamn giant', a long time ago. Unless, however, it was Mark Calaway or Glenn Jacobs. Those two towered over everyone. Even with only a few inches separating him from them, their sheer presence - on top of just being the legends that they were - tended to make him feel about knee-high to a grasshopper.

"You owe me a lot, don't worry, doll." Jon didn't bother trying to recline his seat, not in the mood to deal with the inevitable jerks that usually came along with flights like this. On the bright side, it was a short flight with no layovers, thank the Gods of Air Travel. "I'm keeping track. I'll collect, eventually." He winked down at her before procuring his MP3 from his carry-on, offering her one of the buds. "Some AC/DC?"

This was not the first time they shared a flight together. Jon hated flying, so he made sure to always have his MP3 charged on full. Music helped him deal with take-off and landing. AC/DC was their band – they always listened to it on flights, especially when they had to go overseas. Jon made sure she sat next to him, calling her his calming agent.

"Always." Cracking the barest hint of a smile, she took the bud and placed it in her ear, feeling Jon take her hand to hold it tightly. Not tight enough to hurt, but enough to where she wouldn't be able to pull away. "You would think after all this time and all the flights you've taken, you would be used to this by now."

"Tres, if man were meant to fly, he'd have wings instead of arms, a beak instead of a mouth, and feathers instead of ridiculously hairy arms." Jon remarked, using his free hand to pop a piece of gum into his mouth once the pre-takeoff spiel started. Chewing gum kept his ears from doing that annoying, sometimes mildly painful, popping from the shift in air pressure. "Also, we wouldn't have near pissing ourselves moments when we realize we're trusting our lives to a man flying what is basically a giant tin can with heavy ass metal surfboards attached to it." Now that Jon thought about it, he wished he had said that sentence a little bit differently. Talking about anything related to death or dying, even as a joke, was just in poor taste, even for him. "So…I feel like a jackass now."

Tressa couldn't help it. She was laughing at him, giggling uncontrollably, and didn't take offense to anything he said. This was who Jon was. He spoke what was on his mind and didn't give a flying hoot who heard him as long as he voiced his thoughts. It was one of the many things that drew her to him, and she was the same way, just not as intense as him.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to laugh at you, I really don't. You just have this beyond serious look on your face and it's hilarious."

Her stomach hurt from laughing so hard. Tressa couldn't remember the last time she laughed like this and it honestly felt incredible. She didn't think she'd ever find humor or light in anything again after Joseph's death. Yet here she was, laughing alongside her best friend – possibly her only friend – on this planet. The fact that she was laughing at THAT quip told Jon either he was underestimating her ability on taking jokes or she had an inappropriate sense of humor too. Which she did, he had known she had, it was one of the reasons they got along so well. Or maybe he was just overthinking this whole thing and here he was, STILL overthinking it.

"Laugh it up," He growled, bringing her hand up and kissing her knuckles before lowering it back down, his entire body going rigid when the airplane set into motion. "Fuck. Me."

Jon was NEVER going to get used to this, not ever. He didn't care how many times he flew; he was never going to be able to stomach this. Lifting her hand, she began massaging the back of his neck, something she did for him whenever they would take a flight together. Honestly, Tressa had traveled with the Shield a lot when the boys were together as a cohesive unit. Nowadays, they were all separate Superstars in the company, but every so often, the Shield did reunite when people got too big for their britches. Once they were in the air, Jon's breathing steadied and she nodded at him, squeezing his hand and pulled her hand away from his neck. The combination of her rubbing his neck with the music and holding his hand with her free one…it was enough to keep him calm throughout the take-off.

"You okay now? Want some water or something?" They could unbuckle their seatbelts if they wanted, but neither did so.

"No, I think I want to sit here and pretend I do have wings." He joked, able to hear her well enough over AC/DC.

Jon could feel his heart rate slowly but surely returning to normal. He knew it was ridiculous, having this mild phobia, fear, of his, but there it was. He knew, statistically, he was more likely to die in a car accident than via flight, but also flew more than the average person, so did that mean the statistics changed? Jon supposed what it came down to was the lack of control. He could drive his own car; he was in control. Being up in the air in a giant tin can, he had no say, no nothing…there was just literally nothing he could do because his fate was in someone else's hands. It was an intimidating, lonely feeling. He wondered if that was how she felt, with Joseph's death, staring down at Tressa thoughtfully.

That was pretty much how she felt. Joseph's death came out of NOWHERE. And she was powerless to stop it. She couldn't save her husband because she hadn't heard him slump down in the shower. Who would? He didn't fall and crack his head. He simply sat down in the tub to fall asleep and never woke up again because his enlarged heart had given out on him. It was a VERY intimidating, lonely feeling – that was what bothered and hurt her the most…the loneliness. Jon wouldn't always be here for her and Tressa would have to learn to go on with her life, alone.

"Just don't make them broken wings or you're screwed." She shot back with a smirk and closed her eyes to listen to some AC/DC, not wanting to think about anything else. Not Joseph or their dead baby, not her lawyer or the impending court date with his begrudging family, or her sobbing mother…she just wanted to clear her mind.

Jon managed to fall asleep on the flight and didn't know if Tressa did. Since coming back, in these few short days, he had learned that she didn't look like she slept. He knew from last night she cried in her sleep, so that was definitely one of the reasons her eyes were so swollen and red throughout the morning hours the next day. Getting off the flight and then retrieving their luggage was done in silence. Once they were in the rental, he had called ahead to reserve since he didn't leave his own vehicle in the supposedly 'safe' storage lots, Jon felt his chest becoming less tight. Vegas, the city that never slept, was home and he was relaxing. He adored the busy streets, the people from all walks of life, and the hustle and bustle of the casinos, along with other busy entertainment venues. He adored the scenery outside of the city as well, just a bit more.

No, she couldn't sleep without Vodka. It was the only way she could fall asleep and, even then, her dreams were plagued with nightmares. Last night, she did cry in her sleep because she had been dreaming of her and Joseph's wedding. His family didn't approve of them, so they had to go to the courthouse to get married. She didn't regret doing it that way and neither did Joseph, they were happy despite his family. Now, it was no surprise his family was now putting her through pure hell over his estate. They didn't want her having anything and even went so far as accusing her of killing him with stress due to her job. It was her fault Joseph's heart gave out. It was her fault she lost their baby and couldn't conceive one since they were never home to see each other.

It was all her fault…in their eyes.

"Hey, let's stop for something to eat." Jon had realized that Tressa's mind was wandering and that meant he was constantly looking at her, instead of the road. Her face, pinched and pale again, had shifted from sadness to resignation, anger, and back to some kind of resigned grief that made his heart twinge. She seemed a bit surprised that he was talking to her and wanted to know what thoughts had been causing those myriads of emotions to dance across her face. "I'm hungry, babe, and last I checked, I had a stash of beef potpies at home." Jon couldn't cook to save his life, but he could definitely nuke something cardboardy into something warm and cardboardy. "Here." He pulled down a one-way side street, deftly maneuvering into a parking space.

Sub shop. And soup…she'd probably eat soup, right?

"Okay, sor-" Tressa stopped herself before that word flew out of her mouth and cleared her throat, remembering the intense, heartfelt words he'd said to her in the airport only hours ago. "I didn't mean to ignore you, is what I meant to say."

She just had a great deal on her mind at the moment and looked up at the Mom and Pop sandwich shop. Something told her Jon came here on his days off and she slid out of the car, wishing she would've smoked a cigarette before going in. Jon extended his hand and she took it, letting him guide her inside to grab a table.

"I don't care if you're ignoring me, darlin', do what you want." Jon knew damn well there was a no-smoking in public businesses ban across most of the country, which was why this was his favorite place. They had a patio out back, shaded from the sun and enclosed by buildings on the three sides. Private if no one else was out there, and they could smoke. He sat down, enjoying the lack of people, and gestured for her to sit with him at the table, both of them procuring a cigarette. "You could have smoked in the rental; I pay the extra bit just so I can." He laughed, watching as she took that first, deep inhale, letting that nicotine make its way through her system. That was a terrible habit she had picked up.

She'd be able to quit the alcohol with minimal issues, but smoking…that was hard.

"I really wasn't…thinking about it." Tressa sounded a little sheepish, slipping her fingers through her hair while flicking ash in the tray in front of them. Her phone went off before Jon could question or say something else, making her heave a sigh as she pulled it out to look at the caller ID. "Lawyer, give me a minute." Standing, she put her cigarette on the tray and took a few steps away from the table to answer it. "Please tell me you have good news for me. I could really use some."

"Well, it's your day off, that's good news, right?" Clem could hear the desperation in Tressa's voice and inwardly groaned. She only wished. "They're not going to drop it, Tressa. I'm sorry."

They were going to try taking everything Joseph had left for her and they were going to do it by blaming Tressa for his death. She didn't think it would hold up if they went to court. Mainly because the man had had this problem all his life. Tressa wasn't responsible for a condition he had been born with.

Jon was staring at his menu, knowing what he would eat, he always had the same thing. His ears, however, were busy listening to her conversation as much as he could.