Chapter 4
A/N: Here ya go. Enjoy.
Benoit trudged to Lita's room. When Matt opened the door he gently shoved the cobalt-colored hair male aside, moving past him without a word. Matt just sort of blinked, kind of confused. Lita was relaxing on one bed, her eyes glued to the set. Jeff was on the opposite bed. His hair was drenched and his hands and the parts of his neck his hair touched were discolored electric blue. Around his shoulders was a towel, which also had the same fate. Benoit instantly figured the younger Hardy brother must have just dyed his hair again. He tossed the box onto her bed and it landed neatly on her outstretched legs. She jumped, a bit surprised, and then looked at the box for a moment before it dawned on her. She looked toward him and his indifferent yet obviously sullen appearance and instantly frowned.
"Chris…?"
"Well, I figured you'd want to bring it back since she didn't take it." He said. "Later."
Turning on his heels, he started to move away, out of the room. His escape did not work however when she caught his arm. He turned and raised a brow toward her.
"Wait, Chris. What happened?"
He looked past her to see the two Hardy brothers staring at him. Noting his obvious discomfort talking about the subject with anyone but her, she shook her head.
"C'mon. I'll treat you to a coffee." She said real soft to him. He seemed mostly thankful.
She turned and walked into the room, slipping on her shoes.
"Where you goin', Red…?" Jeff asked, curiously.
"Just out for a bit. I'll be back." She kissed Matt's cheek quick and he didn't make any objection of her just up and leaving out of the blue.
"You don't have to…" Benoit trailed off. "I was just bringing it back…"
"I would just let you go but I know you're not going to have anyone else to rant off too. The day you tell Chris your feelings is the day the world will end." She spoke when she closed the door behind her with a 'click'.
"And how do you know I'm going to tell you anything?" he asked with his infamous smirk.
"You're coming with me, aren't you?" she pointed out with a shrug. He couldn't disagree with this.
The rest of the walk downstairs to the cheap little coffee café place in their hotel was basically in silence. Benoit couldn't believe he was still humoring Lita. He should have just told her to go so he could go to his own room and end his disgraceful attempts of getting Lilian to like him. But he didn't. He ordered coffee with the redhead he barely knew and sat in a remote table in the small area. She stared at him as he took an extra interest in stirring his hot drink. But she waited, very patiently, because if anything she learned about Benoit through her encounters with him with the other Chris was that he couldn't be rushed into anything.
"I should have known it was going to go bad when I accidentally gave the necklace to Spike Dudley."
"…You thought Spike was Lilian?" she asked, sounding surprised. "…But…she looks nothing like him. And she wears nothing but dresses…okay, sometimes pants, but not THOSE pants."
"I didn't do it on PURPOSE." He groaned, instantly embarrassed. "I knocked on the wrong door because your rainbow headed buddy sent me there. I had my eyes closed when I offered it."
"Oh. Okay then." Lita said. She seemed to stifle a giggle that almost came out. He scowled a bit. "Okay, sorry. Sorry."
"And then – after getting gawked at by Dudley and his little girl pal, I went to go find her in the right room – and she came out, looked at the gift and accused me of trying to pay her off or something."
"Ouch."
"I don't really care. I knew it would end up like this. I told you she would never go for me. I scare the crap out of her. I don't actually blame her…" He sighed. "Whatever. Seriously."
Lita looked at him. He really was struggling to fight any sort of feeling of disappointment. Tried to pretend that he didn't want it to turn out right in the end. She didn't know what to do except go right up to Lilian and tell her. And she probably wouldn't believe her either. He couldn't give up on this, though. She just didn't know why he was doing the things he was doing. He never did come out and say it. He just sighed into his coffee, the steam flying up back at him. He barely winced.
"So that's it? You're just going to roll over and die?"
"I prefer to call it my attempt to make it so she only dislikes me instead of hating me with a burning passion."
"At least it's still passion." She offered. He gave her a look. "Guess that's not much of a consolation…"
"I'm out of here." He stood up. "…Here's some money for the coffee…"
She shook her head. "On me."
He ignored her, tossing a five-dollar bill onto the table. "I insist."
Turning curtly, he walked away. Lita stared after him, raising a brow. "There has to be a way to help him…"
Suddenly her eyes lit up. She had an idea.
~~
"You haven't spoken to me since last night."
Benoit just kept writing in his thick black notebook. He hadn't moved much from the bed since they got their new room in the new hotel room. He just laid there, half propped up, looking busy. Jericho sighed loudly, annoyed fully. He got up and grabbed the book from his partner's book. Benoit didn't stop him. He opened it, peering inside.
"1,001 ways to kill Chris Jericho." He read out loud. "Oh, how ni…wait a second!" He read it over, then looked at Benoit who was just smirking at him. "What the hell is this about?"
"Just using my creative abilities." He spoke innocently, his eyes narrowed on the blonde.
He flipped through pages. "You even drew pictures?" He tilted his head at one of them. "I don't even think the human neck can BEND that way!"
"It can. Trust me."
"You can't possibly have 1,001 ways…" he flipped to the last number he was on. "…985?!"
"I have another book if you wanna see it." He added mildly.
"I think you owe me an explanation." Jericho replied quickly. Benoit gave him a look.
"For what?"
"My hair is NOT that raggy! You make me look like a transvestite in your pictures!" Jericho pouted. "…Oh yeah, and why you're planning on killing me in many, many ways. That too."
"I draw what I see, and you deserve it." He answered with a shrug.
"You draw what you…argh, nevermind." He tossed the book to him. "What did I do this time? I swear I didn't throw your boxers out the window at an old lady this morning, that was someone else!"
Benoit stared at him. "What old lady?"
"…Nothing!" Jericho quickly covered, realizing that wasn't the reason.
"YOU were the one who has made the last two days of my life make me want to go commit suicide." He accused.
"Suicide, huh? I think Number 100 in your list might do the job." Jericho offered.
"NOT funny Christopher Jericho!" He grumbled, standing up.
Jericho winced. If the moments when his mother used his full name was any indication, Benoit was really mad. "…Sorry."
"Lilian hates me now. At least before it was mild fear." Benoit told him with a groan. "I give up, seriously. This is the last time I take your advice."
"But…"
"I don't know why I put up with your shit sometimes."
"I didn't…"
"You mess up everything!"
Jericho opened his mouth to speak, but only a low squeak of an unintelligible word.
"I just can't deal with you anymore."
"Well, fine." Jericho said in a light huff. "I see when I'm not wanted. Fuck man, you're such an ass, Roboto. I'm out of here."
And Benoit watched him retreat from the room. It took him a couple seconds for what just happened to be really absorbed. When it did, he realized he had just completely snapped without meaning to go so far. "Fuck."
He had lost any chances with Lilian, AND he just made it so he didn't have a best friend. He was highly contemplating looking at number 100. With a sigh, he threw on a shirt and his pair of sneakers and followed Jericho out. He had to find him before he went and asked for their tag team to be broken up or something.
Not that he had any idea where to start. He looked around to see if Jericho was in sight, and when he wasn't he picked a random direction and jogged that way. He passed by some random people, all who looked at him oddly as he passed. After looking for 20 minutes, he decided to ask Lita for advice. She knew Jericho better then anyone in the company. He felt bad for bugging her so much, but he knew this was one of those rare moments of absolute necessity to bug her.
How she answered the door made Benoit instantly flush and look away. "I told you MATT, I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO – Oh my god!"
She pulled the shirt she was holding on. She had been wearing a work-out bra before, and answered with just that on, obviously thinking it was just Matt or something. Benoit cleared his throat, trying to stop blushing like crazy.
"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to…"
Lita shook her head. "Don't worry about it. Sorry for yelling, Matt pissed me off." She instantly gave one of her patent smiles. "What's up?"
"I uh…I…" he snapped out of it, finally allowing himself to look at her now that she had covered herself up. "Are you busy?"
"No. Asshole left to go play with his buddies and left me hanging."
"I'm sorry." Benoit apologized.
"What, did you force him to go dumb ass on me?" she joked. She noticed his forlorn look a moment later, mixed in with his embarrassed red color. "…Oh, Chris, what's up? You don't look very good."
"I can't find Jericho."
"Isn't that usually a good thing?"
"Not this time." Benoit replied, gravely. "See, I accidentally kind of…told Jericho that he was sort of…worthless, and that I couldn't deal with him anymore and…"
"How do you ACCIDENTLY tell someone that?" Lita asked, sounding shocked.
"I was just mad. And Jericho was there and I…"
"Totally beat him up mentally as if he wasn't the only one who gave you a chance? Chris! How could you!"
"I know I was wrong. That's why I need to find him."
She paused. "Really? Does that mean you're going to apologize?"
"…I guess so."
"Wow, Chris really has been a positive influence on you." She giggled. "Last year you'd never admit you were wrong."
"Instead of musing, can you please help me find him?" he asked, impatient.
"Well, did he take his stuff?"
"…No."
"Then he's probably in your room right now." Lita shrugged.
Benoit could have hit himself. Why hadn't he thought of that? "I'll try that. Right. Thanks, Lita!"
"Wait Benoit, I have something to…"
"Save that thought." He called back, already jogging back to the room.
And sure enough, Jericho was collecting his stuff in his room. He stopped when Benoit opened the door and walked in. He stared at him, his chin up defiantly. "…I'll be out of here in a second."
"Wait, wait, stop." Benoit said, waving a hand. Jericho stuffed a shirt into the bag, then looked at Chris.
"Why? You want to chew me out some more?"
"Jericho…"
He threw his bag down, stomping right up to him, inches away in a couple of seconds. "And let me tell you something, Chris, I know we've had our fights before, but even I wouldn't go as low as where you went."
Benoit knew he was right and said nothing.
"I thought we were friends, man. But I guess everyone was right about you. People told me to stay away from you, but I felt sorry for you." He shook his head in disgust. "So don't even bother, Benoit. I don't care."
"I'm sorry."
Jericho stopped mid-step.
"…You're absolutely right, Chris. I don't blame you if you leave now."
Jericho turned to stare at him. "Wait wait, you're actually saying I'M right?"
Benoit conveyed no emotion. "I'm an ass and I know it. I don't really know how to deal with people."
"So I'm right?"
"Yes."
"…Me? Chris Jericho?"
"Yes."
"Can I get this written on paper?"
"I don't really deserve anyone being nice to me, but you were. I understand that. I just snapped at you because I had a fucked up week and you were the closest target…and that was wrong. So…as hard as it is to admit, I was wrong. That's…all I can say. You can go if you want still."
Jericho blinked, almost seeming a little surprised at his honest speech. After a moment, he suddenly gave one of his big grins and pulled him into a headlock, messing up his hair while still being careful around the areas that still seemed red from the vase. Benoit let out a grumble of frustration as he tried to get Chris off him. "Aww, Benoit, didn't know you cared!"
"Mffph." He replied, annoyed. He managed to rid himself of the grip and tried to make his hair at least somewhat neat.
"Oh, by the way, when I was contemplating my dramatic exit, Lita told me to give you this." He produced a letter. "Said something about Lilian. You're lucky I'm so forgiving."
Benoit sighed. At least one problem was solved. He slowly opened the letter, curious to see the contents of it.