Ch. 7.
Whilst the show continued without them, Benoit and Jericho were relaxing in their respective hotel rooms, each trying to forget about what they were missing out on at the arena. Benoit had decided to watch television in his own room to give Jericho a chance to get some sleep and recover from his ordeal. Although the television was on, Benoit was merely creating the illusion of watching it. In reality, he was staring into space, glad of the opportunity to think over some things which, although usually pushed to the back of his mind, had been bothering him recently. It was doubtful whether he could even name the main characters of the old black and white film which he was seemingly so engrossed in, never mind outline the basic plot.
Suddenly, his train of thought was interrupted by the surprisingly loud ringing of his cell phone. He reached for his jacket and pulled out the phone, answering it quickly.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Chris! It's Steph." came the answer from the other end of the line, "How's the invalid?"
"Sleeping it off." he replied, "How's the show going?"
"Not bad, considering. Still don't know what's happening with the main event though, we might have to call the old Hardyz versus Edge and Christian rivalry into play. The guys are up for a Ladder match, but nothing's final yet - talk about last minute decisions!"
"Sounds like you guys are busy."
"Yeah, one of those "all hands on deck" kinda things." she said, sounding hopeful.
"If you need me to come back down there, I can." offered Chris, smiling as he took her less than subtle hint.
"I was hoping you would say that!" Steph admitted, "Dad was thinking it might look a bit suspicious if you and Chris and Paul and Austin disappear without mention after that brawl, so we were thinking about a match between you and Paul. We could run up a quick script, just enough to offer an explanation; what do you think?"
"I'm game - no, wait, that's Paul! I think you'd better do that script!" joked Chris, "It would be a shame to miss getting a match here though."
"I know the crowd would love it, but I've spoken to Daddy and it looks like you'll be getting plenty more chances to see your home fans anyway."
"How do you mean, Steph?"
"This thing with Austin is going to take a lot of sorting out; the police and the medics are all involved now and ultimately, he's the company's responsibility. It looks like we'll be staying here for a few weeks now instead of a few days, so there'll be more shows, publicity campaigns, autograph signings, and a lot of stuff like that. Dad's determined the time won't go to waste."
"So, in a few weeks Austin's being allowed back?" asked Chris incredulously, "Just like that, as if nothing happened?"
"I honestly don't know, Chris. The company can't just abandon him; we're going to have to see how his treatment goes before making any decisions, that's why we have to stick around." explained Steph, not sounding entirely happy with the situation herself, "I don't like what he did either, but if he's sick ..... I guess there's not much we can do."
"SICK! Makes him sound like he's got 'flu - the guy's crazy!" grumbled Chris, "Yeah, yeah, I know there's nothing we can do, so I needn't waste my time complaining. So, you want me to come down there?"
"If you don't mind, it would really help us out."
"I'll just let Chris know and then, I'm on my way."
"Thanks, Chris."
"No problem, Steph." said Chris, ending the call before putting his jacket on and stuffing the phone back in his pocket. He went to the hotel phone beside his bed and dialled the internal code, followed by the number of Jericho's room and waited for him to answer. When no one answered after several rings, he gave up and reached for the pad of hotel stationary and a pen, scribbling a quick note to explain where he was going. Grabbing his sports bag, he quickly made his way downstairs, slipping the note under Jericho's door on the way. Hoping he had delivered the message to the right room, he got into his rental car and headed back to the arena.
*****
Even as Benoit was arriving at the arena, Jericho was waking up in his hotel room, wondering where he was and why he wasn't at the show. Thanks to a sudden pain in his ribs when he moved to get up, he remembered what had happened and sank back down on the bed with a groan. Trying to find a way to keep the pain to a minimum, he closed his eyes and tried to drift back to sleep, but it soon became apparent that he was wasting his time.
"Well, this is fun." he complained to himself, "I could be at the show with the guys, but no, thanks to that jackass, I get to stay here by myself, bored out of my mind!"
Just as he was beginning to feel sorry for himself, a phone rang loudly.
"Great." he muttered, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he struggled back into a sitting position to answer it. "Hello?" he asked, speaking into the hotel phone, but getting no reply, "Hello? HELLO?"
At the same moment in which he discovered there was no one on the other end of the line, he also became aware that he could still hear the ringing, "Just don't let that be in my head." he begged, looking round the room in confusion before realisation hit and he leapt from the bed, "Cell phone! OWW! Dammit, gotta stop doing that!"
He retrieved his jacket from where he had thrown it over the back of the couch and finally answered the call, "Hello?"
"Hey, Chris, it's Nora. What took ya so long? Oh, golly, ya weren't asleep, were ya? Did I go an' wake ya?" came the voice from the other end, tinged with concern.
"Nah, I just ..... couldn't find my phone." lied Chris, feeling a little embarrassed.
"Oh. Well, I just wanted to find out how ya were holding up."
"I'll be fine, I'm just a little sore. So, do you have a match tonight?"
"Yep! A Hollys versus Dudleys war, three on three. I ..... hang on, Chris." she said, suddenly breaking off mid-sentence, "Chris? 'Kay, I'm back. Sorry 'bout that, some of the guys are here. Matt and Jeff say "hi"."
"Tell them all "hi"." smiled Chris, "Uh, Nora? You still there?"
Chris listened carefully and could just make out Nora's voice in the distance.
"Andrew Martin, ya better give that cell back!" she was squealing, "Gee, that just isn't fair, y'all!"
Chris tried to stifle a chuckle at what he could only imagine all too well. Andrew would have grabbed the cell phone from Nora and would now be holding it above his head, placing it a good two feet out of Nora's reach. She would be standing in front of him, hands on her hips and her head on one side, admonishing him to no avail. Hearing a deeper voice which he recognised as Andrew's, Chris listened again.
"Aw, come on, Nor - don't get your pigtails in a knot! I'll give it back, I just need to speak to Chris." came his voice, followed by a short burst of laughter, "What? Was that supposed to hurt or something? OW! Hey, watch it!"
"Hey, Drew, you getting beat up by Nora there, buddy?" called Chris into the phone.
"Nah, she loves me really - ain't that right, Nora? OW! Hmm, maybe not. So, Chris ..... how are you, man?" asked Andrew, seeming to finally gain control of the phone.
"Well, I've been better, but I suppose I could be a lot worse."
"So I heard. I can't believe no one realised something was seriously wrong sooner. It's scary to think how long this must have been building up; it could have happened to any one of us."
"Guess I was just lucky, huh?" said Chris with a wry laugh.
"Yeah, something like that." said Andrew, "By the way, just while I remember, is Benoit there?"
"I think he's in his own room." said Chris, before his eye caught sight of a piece of paper lying half under his door, "Hang on a minute, I think I've got a message - maybe it's from Chris."
He set the receiver down on the bed and went to retrieve the note, taking care not to jolt his ribs. He read the short note to himself and grinned, shaking his head before picking up the phone again.
"Drew? I'm back. Chris left a note, he's gone back to the arena, he's probably there now." said Chris, "Does that guy never stop?"
"Typical, the guy just can't keep away from his work! Wait a minute, I actually think I see him now."
As Chris waited impatiently, there was a long period of silence on the other end of the line before he could make out shuffling and murmuring in the background.
"What's going on?" he asked repeatedly, getting no answer, "Hello? Is anyone still there?"
"Sorry, Chris." apologised Andrew eventually, in what he considered to be a whisper, "He is here, but he's not alone."
"Well, duh! You guys are there." said Chris in confusion, "And why are you talking so quietly?"
"Idiot! That's not what I meant - just how hard were those knocks to your head? He's with a GIRL!" explained Andrew.
"Really!" exclaimed Chris, perking up a little, "Who?"
"How would I know?" said Andrew, suddenly breaking off, "Hey, I recognise her! Looks like she's gonna get her story after all."
"What are you talking about? Damn, I wish I was there - if I see Austin any time soon, I'm gonna kill him!"
"I met this girl earlier who said she was a reporter looking for Benoit; and that's who he's talking to now."
"So? We talk to loads of reporters." said Chris, losing interest slightly.
"Not ones who look like this we don't; I know I don't anyway. And I don't believe she is a reporter. Uh oh, we were nearly spotted then. Chris, I'm gonna have to go. Nora's threatening to rat on us to Benoit for watching him if I don't give back her phone. I'll talk to you at the hotel later, okay."
"Okay. Try to find out if this girl's just a reporter; even if she is, it'll be something to wind Chris up about - his mystery woman!" laughed Chris, "See you later."
Chris hung up the phone and lay back on his bed. He wasn't used to being so inactive; even when his matches were finished, he liked hanging around backstage at the arena with the rest of the guys. He hoped that their return would relieve the extreme boredom he was suffering, having been cooped up in his hotel room by himself. He folded his arms behind his head and stared up at the ceiling, plotting how he would wind up Benoit about the stranger he had been seen with and grinned to himself. Knowing Benoit, he expected it to be all too easy.
*****