AN- Sara, as I learned, is Undertaker's wife. I may cross that bridge
later, but for now, she's either A. Non- Existant; or B. Is on vacation.
GoDawgs also gave me an idea for a 'naughty' scene......The images that
invaded my mind hopefully will go away soon. It was a good idea, don't get
me wrong....it's just.....I don't see me writing it. If you want to know
what the idea was, I'll give you a hint: lead.
Disclaimer: Do I *really* have to do these? *sigh* Don't own anything.
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*Did* he want things to remain the way they were before? Wait, "before"?? If there was a "before", that meant there was an "after", which would indicate something had changed. And Christian refused to admit that anything had. He just....got....distracted.
He laughed bitterly, scaring DDP a bit. Yeah, distracted. What a word for what had taken place. He reached down and, after a few minutes, managed to balance him and DDP into a walking order. He glanced once, only once, back at his ex-boyfriend, before heading slowly out the door.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
'Jesus, leave already!' Undertaker thought desperately, trying to speed things along. If Christian was unwilling to patch things up, well then, so was he.
Then why was it so hard to forget that damned kiss? He was leaned down slightly, with his head bowed near the handlebars of his 'cycle. 'After the way you had left, you bastard, no wonder he is unwilling.' He thought to himself. 'Was he so unwilling?' Was the memory of the kiss so damned? No. It just....brought up so many good memories.
'That's the last thing you need', he told himself. You have a match with Ric Flair, 50% owner of this company, an icon. He's held many titles.....
(Christian held the Tag-Team title with Edge)
So, you can't be letting you mind wander. Think of a strategy for winning your 10th Wrestlemania Win.....
(How many Wrestlemanias had Christian won?)
He slammed his fist against the handlebars, wincing at the sudden flash of pain. He couldn't think now of anything that Christian wasn't, in some way or another, related to.
He could forget him tomorrow. Yeah. Simple.
If it was so damned simple, why couldn't he convince himself that he could do it?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
DDP leaned against the wall, crazily stomping his foot, trying to get the feeling back. Christian was closing the door to Undertaker's room, trying to keep his eyes on the ground......but failing. He sighed in relief as the numbness started to go away. Now he could walk.......but to where? What he wanted to do, was to throw those two fools into a very tiny room (the tinier, the better) until they confessed their oh-so-obvious feelings. Well, they were obvious to him, anyway.
'Next time, I get my room as far away from Billy and Chuck as humanly possible', he thought to himself, chuckling.
Just as Christian closed the door, he jumped in surprise at the sudden sound of Undertaker's mortorcycle engine revving up. DDP saw surprise, sadness, and....longing? in Christian's eyes when he looked back towards the door. The engine sounded almost......sad. After a moment, DDP laughed. Yeah, a motorcycle engine that sounded sad. What next?
"Page, we need to talk" the voice of Christian was now monotone, almost emotionless. It made him nervous.
"Sure, kid. But.....away from The Deadman's room, ok?" At this, Christian nodded. His head was down, and he looked like he was trying to control his emotions, hiding them from view. To a point, he succeeded. He looked up when he next spoke.
"Can you walk?"
"Stiffly, but yeah." DDP got up from his leaning position, and spotted a bench not far off.
"We can talk there, if you want."
Chrisitan nodded and the two began walking towards it, both lost in thought, both minds on the same subject.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Why couldn't he just forget it? It was just a kiss. Hell, he'd received many in his life. From Crazed Fan Girls......
(Undertaker)
and numerous girlfriends. As they sat down at the bench DDP had pointed to, he could feel DDP's eyes on him. He leaned his head against his hands, his long hair slightly obscuring his eyes. He needed to ask a question that had been bugging him since they'd left, and didn't know how to approach the subject. So, he figured the direct approach was best.
"How much did you hear, Page?" He feel DDP start in surprise, and a long uncomftorable silence followed. His hands turned into fists, and he tried to dull his growing impatience. As of late, he's developed a growing hatred for such silences. He was about to interrupt when he heard a reply.
"About what?"
His self-control was wavering. He could hear the never-ending smile behind that seemingly innocent response. Why couldn't the man ever be serious? Through gritted teeth, he ground out,
"When you were regaining conciousness in there, did you happen to hear anything?"
A pause again. He was so near to punching Page, it wasn't funny. Or a good thing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Boy, the kid was worked up. He thought he'd try for a little humor, ya know, somehow lighten the mood. Well, of course, that failed. He looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone near. Fortunately, they were all focused on the almost main-event match tonight. He dropped the smile and sighed. He leaned closer to the slightly trembling Christian.
"Nothing unusual. Just two fools in love not willing to..."
POW!
The punch to his jaw by the fast-moving Christian knocked him off the bench. He rubbed the sore area, checking for any loose teeth, the usual. Okay, maybe he should learn when to shut up. He turned over, attempting to get up. Instead, Christian grabbed him, one fist clenched in each side of his vest, and he felt his back being violently slammed against the wall.
He could see the strain it cost Christian, as sweat was beaded at his hairline. That didn't explain the moistness in the eyes, though. That was one thing and one thing only. Unshed tears. They were nearly eye to eye when Christian next spoke.
"I just asked you for what you heard. Not an analysis of it."
"Fine. I woke up in time to hear something about him leaving you. Then I heard....." his eyes noticed the slight blush that crept into Christian's cheeks, and he had to stop a smile, "Enough to give proof to what I said earlier."
"You were wrong!" Christian emphasized this by another slamming Page against the wall again. "Wrong! Wrong! Wron-"
"About what, Christian? Huh? That you two aren't in love?" He moved closer to Christian's moist, fearful gaze. "You look me in the eye and tell me that."
Christian swallowed hard and DDP felt his grip relax. His vest would need ironing out before this day was over, he thought absently. The younger man kept his eyes locked on his.
"We're.......Me and 'Taker......aren't......." Page felt a lump in his throat as he saw the anguish in Christian's eyes. Two tears managed to escape those youthful eyes. "We're not.........."
"Save it, kid." Page felt like hugging him, but he knew what kind of reaction *that* would bring about. Instead, despite his throbbing headache, he placed his hands on Chrisitan's shoulders and squeezed gently.
"I don't want to sound like a therapist, but, it's not a good thi...." He decided that hearing his saying would annoy Christian too much. "good idea to keep all your emotions bottled inside. You should let them out....." he paused, remembering his jaw ".....But, if possible, not on me."
Christian released him, and turned slightly. He wiped his watering eyes and straightened his back before turning back to Page. The near emotionless eyes were more disturbing than the fearful ones. Christian was blocking out his emotions, DDP noticed. That was a very bad thing. He still had his fists clenched, as though focusing on the physical pain, instead of the emotional.
"I.....challenge you to a match at Wrestlemania ay......eighteen." He was trembling, his voice back to a monotone. DDP slumped against the wall, feeling defeated. Perhaps his lessons on "Controlling Your Emotions" went a little too far. He didn't have to ask what kind of match Christian wanted.
"Fine, whatever you want, Christian. If the damned title means that much to you, then I accept." Christian nodded and started to walk away. Before he got too far away though, DDP yelled after him.
"You can't deny love, Christian. You proved that to me a few moments ago. And if I can see it, then so can The Deadman." As he saw Christian's angry gaze turn to him, Page moved closer to him. "I won't repeat what happened in that room to anyone. But, know this, Chris. Your love will always be there. You may be able to hide from him, but you can't escape it."
"I can, Diamond Dallas Page, and I *will* !" with that, Christian ran off.
DDP slumped against the wall again, wincing at the pain in his temples. He's been beat up by two love-sick fools in one day. Both unwilling to admit their love, both having too much ego and pride to do such a thing. He laughed as the craziest idea formed in his head.
"Maybe, it's time I gave my advice to a Dead man......I might have better results." He laughed again, ignoring the pain in different places. Yes. He would definetly join the fools club before the night was over....that, or the hospital. Whichever one came first.
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Christian ran through the twisty hallways, his tears streaming from his eyes. He leaned against the wall, unable to cry, breathe, and run at once. He covered his eyes as best he could, knowing how pathetic he sounded. He punched the wall in his anger, trying to stop the flowing tears. He knew how bad he looked......
"Christian, are you okay?"
He turned, still sniffling, to the person who spoke. Great. Like he needed to see another person that could be able to read him like a paperback book. The best defense, he thought, was a great offense. He glared angrily at his half-brother.
"Do I look fucking okay, Edge? Maybe that shampoo has gone to your head in more ways than one and altered your vision."
Edge just chuckled and shook his head. His brother always resorted to anger whenever he was scared or frustrated. Predictable, and a little sad. He turned his gentle smile on his brother.
"No, I guess not. Just asking, bro. Didn't know that was against the law now."
"Whatever, Edge. I'm going to our room to get some rest. Or, did you want to ask me a few more annoying, dumb-ass questions?" Edge made a dismissive gesture and Christian continued his run. Edge sighed as he shook his head in confusion. Ever since Christian had read the schedule for this RAW!, he's been acting......weird. He looked over his shoulder every time he went out somewhere, and was always on-the-edge nervous. A small noise would make the antsy guy jump.
Edge shook his head in confusion. Well, it was a rule they agreed to: They shared rooms, not privacy. Edge checked his watch. All thoughts of his younger brother fled his mind as he began to run to the ramp-way. He was so far from it, and he had so little time to get there before his entrance played, announcing his match with Regal. Damn!! His long blonde hair and black leather coat streamed behind him as he used an all-out run.
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Christian fumbled with the keys, cursing his trembling hands. He finally got the door open and ran into the small room, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed, clutching the pillow like a lifesaver. After a moment, he sat up, and grabbed the pill bottle he kept on the desk. The bottle said "Excedrin", but he knew what it really was.
The lid disappeared as he flicked it with his thumb. He grabbed two pills and then set the bottle down. He picked up the water bottle and took a huge drink after he threw the pills into his mouth. He lay back down clutching the pillow, and drawing the blankets around him. He let the tears flow as the sleeping pills began to slowly, too slowly, take effect.
As his mind began to slowly get hazy with the drug effects, it was then that he realized his green coat was still by Undertaker's door.
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AN- My computer is against me. The first time I wrote this chapter out, my compy froze. All I was doing was turning on another song (Ambient, Techno, and Live's "Forever May Not Be Long Enough" do wonders for angsty writing) and my compy chose that moment to freeze. It could've froze while I was on the document so maybe I could copy some stuff down, but noooooooooooo. Ironically, I find that I like this chapter much more. Anyway, I will definetly go through WX8 next chapter. Thanks again for all the reviews!! I really appreciate it!! : - )
Disclaimer: Do I *really* have to do these? *sigh* Don't own anything.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
*Did* he want things to remain the way they were before? Wait, "before"?? If there was a "before", that meant there was an "after", which would indicate something had changed. And Christian refused to admit that anything had. He just....got....distracted.
He laughed bitterly, scaring DDP a bit. Yeah, distracted. What a word for what had taken place. He reached down and, after a few minutes, managed to balance him and DDP into a walking order. He glanced once, only once, back at his ex-boyfriend, before heading slowly out the door.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
'Jesus, leave already!' Undertaker thought desperately, trying to speed things along. If Christian was unwilling to patch things up, well then, so was he.
Then why was it so hard to forget that damned kiss? He was leaned down slightly, with his head bowed near the handlebars of his 'cycle. 'After the way you had left, you bastard, no wonder he is unwilling.' He thought to himself. 'Was he so unwilling?' Was the memory of the kiss so damned? No. It just....brought up so many good memories.
'That's the last thing you need', he told himself. You have a match with Ric Flair, 50% owner of this company, an icon. He's held many titles.....
(Christian held the Tag-Team title with Edge)
So, you can't be letting you mind wander. Think of a strategy for winning your 10th Wrestlemania Win.....
(How many Wrestlemanias had Christian won?)
He slammed his fist against the handlebars, wincing at the sudden flash of pain. He couldn't think now of anything that Christian wasn't, in some way or another, related to.
He could forget him tomorrow. Yeah. Simple.
If it was so damned simple, why couldn't he convince himself that he could do it?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
DDP leaned against the wall, crazily stomping his foot, trying to get the feeling back. Christian was closing the door to Undertaker's room, trying to keep his eyes on the ground......but failing. He sighed in relief as the numbness started to go away. Now he could walk.......but to where? What he wanted to do, was to throw those two fools into a very tiny room (the tinier, the better) until they confessed their oh-so-obvious feelings. Well, they were obvious to him, anyway.
'Next time, I get my room as far away from Billy and Chuck as humanly possible', he thought to himself, chuckling.
Just as Christian closed the door, he jumped in surprise at the sudden sound of Undertaker's mortorcycle engine revving up. DDP saw surprise, sadness, and....longing? in Christian's eyes when he looked back towards the door. The engine sounded almost......sad. After a moment, DDP laughed. Yeah, a motorcycle engine that sounded sad. What next?
"Page, we need to talk" the voice of Christian was now monotone, almost emotionless. It made him nervous.
"Sure, kid. But.....away from The Deadman's room, ok?" At this, Christian nodded. His head was down, and he looked like he was trying to control his emotions, hiding them from view. To a point, he succeeded. He looked up when he next spoke.
"Can you walk?"
"Stiffly, but yeah." DDP got up from his leaning position, and spotted a bench not far off.
"We can talk there, if you want."
Chrisitan nodded and the two began walking towards it, both lost in thought, both minds on the same subject.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Why couldn't he just forget it? It was just a kiss. Hell, he'd received many in his life. From Crazed Fan Girls......
(Undertaker)
and numerous girlfriends. As they sat down at the bench DDP had pointed to, he could feel DDP's eyes on him. He leaned his head against his hands, his long hair slightly obscuring his eyes. He needed to ask a question that had been bugging him since they'd left, and didn't know how to approach the subject. So, he figured the direct approach was best.
"How much did you hear, Page?" He feel DDP start in surprise, and a long uncomftorable silence followed. His hands turned into fists, and he tried to dull his growing impatience. As of late, he's developed a growing hatred for such silences. He was about to interrupt when he heard a reply.
"About what?"
His self-control was wavering. He could hear the never-ending smile behind that seemingly innocent response. Why couldn't the man ever be serious? Through gritted teeth, he ground out,
"When you were regaining conciousness in there, did you happen to hear anything?"
A pause again. He was so near to punching Page, it wasn't funny. Or a good thing.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Boy, the kid was worked up. He thought he'd try for a little humor, ya know, somehow lighten the mood. Well, of course, that failed. He looked around to make sure there wasn't anyone near. Fortunately, they were all focused on the almost main-event match tonight. He dropped the smile and sighed. He leaned closer to the slightly trembling Christian.
"Nothing unusual. Just two fools in love not willing to..."
POW!
The punch to his jaw by the fast-moving Christian knocked him off the bench. He rubbed the sore area, checking for any loose teeth, the usual. Okay, maybe he should learn when to shut up. He turned over, attempting to get up. Instead, Christian grabbed him, one fist clenched in each side of his vest, and he felt his back being violently slammed against the wall.
He could see the strain it cost Christian, as sweat was beaded at his hairline. That didn't explain the moistness in the eyes, though. That was one thing and one thing only. Unshed tears. They were nearly eye to eye when Christian next spoke.
"I just asked you for what you heard. Not an analysis of it."
"Fine. I woke up in time to hear something about him leaving you. Then I heard....." his eyes noticed the slight blush that crept into Christian's cheeks, and he had to stop a smile, "Enough to give proof to what I said earlier."
"You were wrong!" Christian emphasized this by another slamming Page against the wall again. "Wrong! Wrong! Wron-"
"About what, Christian? Huh? That you two aren't in love?" He moved closer to Christian's moist, fearful gaze. "You look me in the eye and tell me that."
Christian swallowed hard and DDP felt his grip relax. His vest would need ironing out before this day was over, he thought absently. The younger man kept his eyes locked on his.
"We're.......Me and 'Taker......aren't......." Page felt a lump in his throat as he saw the anguish in Christian's eyes. Two tears managed to escape those youthful eyes. "We're not.........."
"Save it, kid." Page felt like hugging him, but he knew what kind of reaction *that* would bring about. Instead, despite his throbbing headache, he placed his hands on Chrisitan's shoulders and squeezed gently.
"I don't want to sound like a therapist, but, it's not a good thi...." He decided that hearing his saying would annoy Christian too much. "good idea to keep all your emotions bottled inside. You should let them out....." he paused, remembering his jaw ".....But, if possible, not on me."
Christian released him, and turned slightly. He wiped his watering eyes and straightened his back before turning back to Page. The near emotionless eyes were more disturbing than the fearful ones. Christian was blocking out his emotions, DDP noticed. That was a very bad thing. He still had his fists clenched, as though focusing on the physical pain, instead of the emotional.
"I.....challenge you to a match at Wrestlemania ay......eighteen." He was trembling, his voice back to a monotone. DDP slumped against the wall, feeling defeated. Perhaps his lessons on "Controlling Your Emotions" went a little too far. He didn't have to ask what kind of match Christian wanted.
"Fine, whatever you want, Christian. If the damned title means that much to you, then I accept." Christian nodded and started to walk away. Before he got too far away though, DDP yelled after him.
"You can't deny love, Christian. You proved that to me a few moments ago. And if I can see it, then so can The Deadman." As he saw Christian's angry gaze turn to him, Page moved closer to him. "I won't repeat what happened in that room to anyone. But, know this, Chris. Your love will always be there. You may be able to hide from him, but you can't escape it."
"I can, Diamond Dallas Page, and I *will* !" with that, Christian ran off.
DDP slumped against the wall again, wincing at the pain in his temples. He's been beat up by two love-sick fools in one day. Both unwilling to admit their love, both having too much ego and pride to do such a thing. He laughed as the craziest idea formed in his head.
"Maybe, it's time I gave my advice to a Dead man......I might have better results." He laughed again, ignoring the pain in different places. Yes. He would definetly join the fools club before the night was over....that, or the hospital. Whichever one came first.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Christian ran through the twisty hallways, his tears streaming from his eyes. He leaned against the wall, unable to cry, breathe, and run at once. He covered his eyes as best he could, knowing how pathetic he sounded. He punched the wall in his anger, trying to stop the flowing tears. He knew how bad he looked......
"Christian, are you okay?"
He turned, still sniffling, to the person who spoke. Great. Like he needed to see another person that could be able to read him like a paperback book. The best defense, he thought, was a great offense. He glared angrily at his half-brother.
"Do I look fucking okay, Edge? Maybe that shampoo has gone to your head in more ways than one and altered your vision."
Edge just chuckled and shook his head. His brother always resorted to anger whenever he was scared or frustrated. Predictable, and a little sad. He turned his gentle smile on his brother.
"No, I guess not. Just asking, bro. Didn't know that was against the law now."
"Whatever, Edge. I'm going to our room to get some rest. Or, did you want to ask me a few more annoying, dumb-ass questions?" Edge made a dismissive gesture and Christian continued his run. Edge sighed as he shook his head in confusion. Ever since Christian had read the schedule for this RAW!, he's been acting......weird. He looked over his shoulder every time he went out somewhere, and was always on-the-edge nervous. A small noise would make the antsy guy jump.
Edge shook his head in confusion. Well, it was a rule they agreed to: They shared rooms, not privacy. Edge checked his watch. All thoughts of his younger brother fled his mind as he began to run to the ramp-way. He was so far from it, and he had so little time to get there before his entrance played, announcing his match with Regal. Damn!! His long blonde hair and black leather coat streamed behind him as he used an all-out run.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
Christian fumbled with the keys, cursing his trembling hands. He finally got the door open and ran into the small room, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself on the bed, clutching the pillow like a lifesaver. After a moment, he sat up, and grabbed the pill bottle he kept on the desk. The bottle said "Excedrin", but he knew what it really was.
The lid disappeared as he flicked it with his thumb. He grabbed two pills and then set the bottle down. He picked up the water bottle and took a huge drink after he threw the pills into his mouth. He lay back down clutching the pillow, and drawing the blankets around him. He let the tears flow as the sleeping pills began to slowly, too slowly, take effect.
As his mind began to slowly get hazy with the drug effects, it was then that he realized his green coat was still by Undertaker's door.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------
AN- My computer is against me. The first time I wrote this chapter out, my compy froze. All I was doing was turning on another song (Ambient, Techno, and Live's "Forever May Not Be Long Enough" do wonders for angsty writing) and my compy chose that moment to freeze. It could've froze while I was on the document so maybe I could copy some stuff down, but noooooooooooo. Ironically, I find that I like this chapter much more. Anyway, I will definetly go through WX8 next chapter. Thanks again for all the reviews!! I really appreciate it!! : - )