And All My Words Come Back To Me
Summary: Hunter refelcts on the events of the 7/9 RAW. (First in a series; it will switch in perspective from Hunter to Steph until Invasion, which will be the conclusion.) I made some minor changes, because I made some stupid errors. That's what I get for not proofreading. :P
Everyone warned me about marrying her. I thought that they just didn't know her. At the time, well, neither did I, but I thought that she was different from her brother and her father. I thought she was more like her mother. I couldn't have been more wrong.
It took me a while to find out. I guess that I should have known something was going on by Summerslam last year, when she spent the night with Kurt Angle.
I confronted her about it. She insisted that she had only visited Shane at the hospital, and she hadn't stayed with Kurt. I believed her. I was foolish enough to believe her. I had fallen to her charm. Now, when I look into Angle's eyes, I know that I was deceived. What I see when I look into his eyes is victory. He took the thing that meant the most to me, even more than the title did. He took the only woman that I ever really loved. I loved her so, and maybe I still do. I believed her because I loved her. I found out though, and it took me a while to accept it.
I know that she had an affair. I think she's still having it. She hides it well. But I found out.
The marriage lasted. It wasn't a very happy one. She kept sneaking out at night, when she thought that I thought that she was always there. On screen, she pretended to be a loving, devoted wife who stood by her husband's side through thick and thin. Off-screen, she was a bitch. I may look like a dominating, pissed-off kinda guy, but I can assure you, she can be worse.
This continued for months. I am convinced that she was with Kurt for much longer than it showed on television. It may have ended in November to the general public, but it sure as hell didn't to me. In fact, my life is still a living hell.
I was injured. The only thing that kept me going was wrestling. I enjoyed beating the hell out of the Undertaker and Kane. It made me feel like a man. It made me feel like something, not like crap.
I was fighting against Jericho and Benoit for the Tag Team Championship. I fell hard on my knee. That bastard, Jericho, came at me from behind. He did it to me.
I fell to the mat in pain. I knew something was wrong. I rolled out of the ring, to the cold cement floor. Jericho came after me, put me on the announce table, and put me in the Walls of Jericho. I tapped out. I was utterly humiliated, but I had to. Fortunately, I wasn't the legal man, and it didn't count.
The details are blurry. Somehow I got out of the Walls of Jericho, and grabbed the sledgehammer from underneath the announce table. I hobbled into the ring, hit Austin with it, and the match was over. I meant to hit Benoit, but I hit Austin.
I fell to the ground. The referee came and asked if I was all right. I told him that I was not, and he helped me out of the arena to an ambulance.
Stephanie came with me to the hospital. She played the supportive spouse, as usual. I had surgery the following Thursday, and later, I watched in absolute amazement as she shed actual tears as she watched my surgery. I had no idea that she even cared. It was probably for the camera that was rolling.
I was at our house in Greenwich recuperating when the confrontation happened.
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I was in the gym, of course, training. The doctor had given me the okay to start therapy, and I was, of course, taking full advantage of it.
I saw the door start to open, and I stopped in curiosity. It completely opened, and it revealed Stephanie. She looked slightly hesitant, as if she knew something was going to hit the fan.
"Steph?" I asked her.
"Hunter, I'm going RAW tonight." She said, cutting to the chase.
I blinked in disbelief. "Why?"
"Because I want to." She said, as if that were an explanation.
"I thought that you were staying home to support me." I said, trying not to sound hurt.
"You'll see." She snapped and walked out of the gym. It was hard to hurt his feelings, but she had just about done it.
Later that night, I found myself alone in bed. I looked at the clock. It was almost eleven o'clock. With a start, I realized that he had missed almost all of RAW. With a jolt of worry, I found the remote on my night stand, flipped it on, and searched through the cable channels to find TNN. I found the channel, but only after feeling a surge of annoyance at the number of channels there were.
I was served with a scene in the ring. Confused, I saw a group of wrestlers in the ring wearing ECW colors, beating upon several WWF wrestlers. Shane McMahon was providing color commentary, saying, "Oooh, it's a 3D!" as The Dudleys performed their signature move on Bob Holly.
"What the hell are you doing, Shane?" I asked. I knew about the 'Invasion' but this ECW deal was new. I thought Shane led WCW.
"What in the hell is going on here?" I heard the voice of Vince McMahon ask, as if he had heard me asking the same thing.
"Don't you see Dad?" asked Shane mockingly. "You told me I was responsible for everything that happened out here. And I am."
The camera cut to the disgusted face of Vince. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He looked like he was about the leave, but Shane stopped him.
"No, that's not all. Allow me to introduce to you the new owner of ECW. I think that you know this person very well. She is my sister, Stephanie McMahon!"
I dropped the remote, my jaw dropping in a similar fashion. My old theme music played, and Stephanie walked out, casting an evil grin in the general direction of her father. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had thought all along that she was an angel. I thought she loved her father more than any power that had ever existed. I didn't think that Stephanie could stoop to that level of betrayal. I realized at that very moment in time of what she was capable of. I realized that she was indeed capable of cheating on me. (All though, she couldn't be screwing around with Kurt anymore, I realized with pleasure.) She didn't give a damn about anything but power. She didn't give a damn about him, or about her family.
"You make me sick," I whispered to the picture of Stephanie on the screen.
I climbed out of bed, the full shock of the situation seeping into me. I watched the celebration commence, and Paul Heyman standing there, the bastard, holding and hugging my wife.
I watched this in rage, thinking of what I would say to Stephanie. First I would tell her that she made me sick. Then I would tell her that I knew about her sleeping with Kurt, and now, even possibly Paul Heyman.
As RAW went off the air, I grabbed the phone that was lying on the floor. I dialed Stephanie's number.
It rang several times. "Hello?" a male voice asked.
"Who is this? I want to talk to my wife." I snapped.
"Hunter!" the voice said, obviously pleased, "this is Shane. Wasn't it great?"
"I wouldn't have expected it from anybody but you, Shane. You all make me sick. You're an ungrateful piece of shit, did you know that? I worked my ass off to just make it to the leagues of the World Wrestling Federation, whereas you basically are trying to destroy it."
"Woah, woah," Shane said, his tone suddenly cool, "now, I may be ungrateful, but I'm not a piece of shit."
"Look, I just want to talk to my wife. Why the hell do you have her phone?"
"She asked me to take it. She's gone with Paul." Shane snapped.
"Who?" I whispered lethally.
"Um, no one." Shane said, realizing that he had made a mistake.
"Heyman, that dumb-ass piece of crap." I roared. "She's with him!"
"Um." Said Shane.
"Just get me Stephanie, all right?" I yelled.
"Uh…I'll go find her and have her call you back." Shane said quickly, and I heard him hang up the phone.
I sighed, and rubbed my temple ruefully. She was screwing around with Paul Heyman, someone who was at least 20 years older than she was.
I sighed. My wife: sweet on the outside, bitch on the inside, and slut on the outside.
The phone rang. It was picked it up immediately. "Yes?"
"Hunter!" said the voice of Stephanie; "you called?"
"Yeah," he said, "just to ask you what in hell you think you're doing."
There was a tense slight pause that seemed to last an eternity. Finally, Stephanie replied,
"I have my own company. Aren't you happy?"
"You are disgusting." I said slowly and deliberately.
"Excuse me?" she asked.
"Have you forgotten something, Steph? I work for the World Wrestling Federation. I worked my entire life to get there. I busted my ass to get there. It may be run out of business now, thanks to you and your selfish brother. Do you want to destroy that?"
"I assumed you would defect to ECW/WCW." She said coolly.
"What? Well, you assumed wrong." I snapped.
"I can't believe you won't support me!" she exclaimed, "I mean, I married you. I'm a McMahon! I gave you the power the rule the entire company! And this is what I get in return?"
"I married you for power." I said quietly, "but I grew to love you. And I thought the feeling was mutual. But now, I'm not so sure."
"Hunter, of course I love you, that isn't the point—"
"Oh, but I think it is," I began, "what the hell were you doing with Paul Heyman?"
"How did you find out about that?" she asked quickly.
"Oh, it- ah, slipped out of Shane's mouth accidentally. Where were you? In the broom closet?" I asked, feeling a rage coming on.
"No," she snapped, "we were discussing business. I don't believe you would have the audacity of accusing me of sleeping with Paul!"
"You've done it before," I reminded her, "remember Kurt? I figure you can't be fucking him anymore, since he's with your father."
"I…I…I may have…but not…with Kurt…Paul…." She stammered.
"You know, I'm glad I finally realized what a shallow person you are. I realized that once you're born a McMahon, you'll always be a selfish, greedy person. It must be genetics."
"I…."
"Why don't you go, go back to your party in the closet. Oh, and don't bother coming back to my house. I'm better off without you." I slammed down the phone.
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It has been about fifteen minutes after I made that phone call. I am in real pain. Not the type of pain you would get from an injury; this is real pain. This is pain that runs in cold shivers down my spine, and the type that makes a tear come down my face.
I can barely move.
I'm remembering all the times I have told her I love her, and how she was creeping behind my back all the time. I'm remembering all the times that we made love, but she was really in someone else's bed on the nights that I was away.
All my words of love are coming back to me, threatening to hit me in the face like a fifty-pound weight.
Tonight I'll sing my songs again
I'll play the game and pretend
But all my words come back to me
In shades of mediocrity
Like emptiness in harmony
I need someone to comfort me…
THE END