A/N: The time has finally come! The much anticipated chapter on Adam
Copeland (Edge)'s wife, Alannah! Now, before I go on, I was a bit confused
as to how to spell her name, whether it's one "N" or 2. Blame and flame me
if I'm wrong. Anyway, I hope it meets your expectations! Enjoy it! And
reviews rule. :)
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Alannah Copeland looked away from the picture on the wall. It was from WrestleMania 17, when Adam speared Jeff from a ladder. It brought back haunting memories, and sorrow that would never heal. It wasn't like she didn't like him, going all out to entertain the fans. She just always wondered if he ever considered his health.
"One day, I'm probably going to hurt myself badly. Torn quad, or broken arm, something and that'll be my wake-up call. Until then, I'll do what I do if it kills me," Adam would say. Alannah was warmed by his courage. He did love the fans, almost as much as he loved her. But the morbid sense of his words frightened her.
They'd speak for hours before and after his matches. He'd tell her what spots he'd be involved in and convince her that they weren't that bad. "What are the chances of something going wrong?" Alannah would ask, all the time. Adam simply laughed at her paranoia and told her they were professionals and that they all knew what they were doing.
Alannah chuckled, nervously, at the ironic set-ups. Anytime Adam took a killer bump that wowed and worried everyone, he was usually more that 10,000 miles away. But when he was close to home or in Toronto, he'd never do anything within high risk. So it'd be impossible for her to try and comfort him, since there was nothing much to care for when he was close.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the wedding ring during his Tables, Ladders and Chairs matches. Those always caused a lot of damage. Adam would stagger through the door and she'd run to him, taking him in her arms and asking, "Are you feeling okay?" In a daze, he'd breathe, "Damn. . ." and go about his life, as if he were just another person; not a superstar.
Alannah hoped for children, even though Adam was away 300 days a year. She wanted a family; he wanted a family. "I may never see their first steps or hear their first words . . ." He'd say, but his wife knew better. She wouldn't be surprised if he rushed home, as fast as he could, to play with their son or daughter.
At this point in her life, Alannah couldn't imagine not talking with her husband on a daily basis. Whether or not he had a grueling match, she longed to hear the sound of his voice. It was a wonder to her how he could always stay calm.
She remembered one night, he was bleeding intensely and just minutes after he'd completed his match, he called her, "Did you watch it?" "Of course I watched it! Are you feeling okay?!" He'd laugh, "I'm feeling perfectly fine."
It took her breath away how he'd ignore his cuts and bruises, no matter what. Even if it meant ignoring them to comfort her, he'd do it. She was curious as to whether or not he'd do it on purpose, to worry her even more.
When he was home, he was a whole different person. He was playful and joked all the time. He could always make her laugh, which would thicken their marriage and happiness. Saying goodbye wasn't always as fun.
"Are you sure you have everything?" Adam would proceed to pull out his wallet and check for his pictures of her, "Yeah. Everything that's important."
--
--
Alannah Copeland looked away from the picture on the wall. It was from WrestleMania 17, when Adam speared Jeff from a ladder. It brought back haunting memories, and sorrow that would never heal. It wasn't like she didn't like him, going all out to entertain the fans. She just always wondered if he ever considered his health.
"One day, I'm probably going to hurt myself badly. Torn quad, or broken arm, something and that'll be my wake-up call. Until then, I'll do what I do if it kills me," Adam would say. Alannah was warmed by his courage. He did love the fans, almost as much as he loved her. But the morbid sense of his words frightened her.
They'd speak for hours before and after his matches. He'd tell her what spots he'd be involved in and convince her that they weren't that bad. "What are the chances of something going wrong?" Alannah would ask, all the time. Adam simply laughed at her paranoia and told her they were professionals and that they all knew what they were doing.
Alannah chuckled, nervously, at the ironic set-ups. Anytime Adam took a killer bump that wowed and worried everyone, he was usually more that 10,000 miles away. But when he was close to home or in Toronto, he'd never do anything within high risk. So it'd be impossible for her to try and comfort him, since there was nothing much to care for when he was close.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto the wedding ring during his Tables, Ladders and Chairs matches. Those always caused a lot of damage. Adam would stagger through the door and she'd run to him, taking him in her arms and asking, "Are you feeling okay?" In a daze, he'd breathe, "Damn. . ." and go about his life, as if he were just another person; not a superstar.
Alannah hoped for children, even though Adam was away 300 days a year. She wanted a family; he wanted a family. "I may never see their first steps or hear their first words . . ." He'd say, but his wife knew better. She wouldn't be surprised if he rushed home, as fast as he could, to play with their son or daughter.
At this point in her life, Alannah couldn't imagine not talking with her husband on a daily basis. Whether or not he had a grueling match, she longed to hear the sound of his voice. It was a wonder to her how he could always stay calm.
She remembered one night, he was bleeding intensely and just minutes after he'd completed his match, he called her, "Did you watch it?" "Of course I watched it! Are you feeling okay?!" He'd laugh, "I'm feeling perfectly fine."
It took her breath away how he'd ignore his cuts and bruises, no matter what. Even if it meant ignoring them to comfort her, he'd do it. She was curious as to whether or not he'd do it on purpose, to worry her even more.
When he was home, he was a whole different person. He was playful and joked all the time. He could always make her laugh, which would thicken their marriage and happiness. Saying goodbye wasn't always as fun.
"Are you sure you have everything?" Adam would proceed to pull out his wallet and check for his pictures of her, "Yeah. Everything that's important."
--