Spring Break was nice, but I've been away from this story for far too long, and it's kinda beating around in my head.
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Lita's match with Shaniqua went fairly well. The girl was a lot more athletic than her lean figure gave indication to, but she was still fairly green, and had made a crucial rookie mistake when she turned to play to the audience and left her back exposed to Lita. A reverse twist-of-fate, and it was over.
Lita stayed under the hot water of the shower for a long time after her match. Of course, she had no real desire to return to the dark unfamiliarity of backstage Smackdown, but she also had a lot on her mind. In two nights, when Smackdown aired, her boys would know where she was. She trusted that most of them would leave her alone for a while. Rey was her friend and probably understood her best, so he'd leave her well enough alone. Spike and his brothers would be too pissed and too hurt to come. Tommy and Raven had their girlfriends to focus on, as did Lance, and Justin wouldn't go anywhere without him. Stevie would remain distant and non-confrontational as always.
...But Kane. She could always rely on Kane to surprise her; it made him dependable in his own way. He might come for her, especially if he knew his brother was throwing himself into the mix. Kane still loved the Taker, but love was not the same as trust, and he was fiercely protective when it came to Lita. She leaned her head forward against the tile and simply let the water wash over her, as if by cleansing her body she could clear her mind as well. It wasn't working too well.
She finished her shower, dried off, and got dressed. Best to get out of here before the show ended and the flood of people were all trying to leave at once.
She shouldered her gymbag and stepped out the door, into Nathan Jones.
He sneered down at her. She normally liked Australian accents, but his was menacing.
"What do we have here? Did you miss me, sheila, and decide to come join us?"
"Yeah, I missed kicking your ass. It was so much fun the first time, I just had to come back for seconds. Did that knot on your head ever go down?"
He leaned in close to her. "You aren't holding a chair right now, are you? Nor do you have a dozen of your little friends to back you up. You're all alone."
"No, she isn't." Taker stood impossibly tall a few feet behind them, arms crossed. Though his arms were threatening, his voice never rose above a low, unwavering calm. "Now get out of here, kid, or I'll give you an even bigger beating than the little girl did."
Jones turned to face him and made the disastrous mistake of trying to stare the Undertaker down. He only looked back, his eyes revealing nothing. To Lita he appeared not to move, not to blink, hell, she wasn't even sure he was breathing. Jones shrugged and walked away, slowly enough so it didn't look like his tail was between his legs. Lita glared up at Taker.
"Stop doing that."
He shook his head. "You really are impossible."
"Yeah, so?"
"Would you stop being such a f*cking idiot and actually let me help you?"
The wrath in his voice made her jump. As unnerving as it was, she almost wished he was still being cold and quiet. She wasn't used to seeing him enraged. "Better the devil you know," she thought.
"How am I being an idiot?"
"I didn't say you were being an idiot; I said you were being a f*cking idiot. And if you don't realize how you're acting, then perhaps you're already too far gone." She stared at him patiently. He sighed. "Fine, I'll explain it to you."
"You're all talk and bravado. That worked on Raw, for two reasons. One, you could back it up. Here, you can't. Two, the enemies you dealt with on Raw really hated you and wanted to hurt you. Here, no one really cares. There are no Evolutions on this show, just your everyday, run-of-the-mill criminals. No one here holds a real grudge. On Raw, Triple H or one of his little lackeys would devise some long, complicated scheme to make you all as miserable as possible, but it gave you time to always find a way to weasel out of it. Here, it's shoot first, ask questions later. The bad guys here will just take you out and get you out of their way as quickly as possible."
Despite the harsh truth of his words (and the shock at hearing him actually talk for this long), Lita still found her voice to argue back. "Look, I don't have it as easy as you. I can't just walk around and have everyone be intimidated by my presence. Talk and bravado are all I have to stand on."
He shook his head. "You think it's my size that scares people? Look at Test; he's 6'8". You don't see a lot of people cowering in front of him."
"Yeah, but Test is an idiot. He's always running... his... mouth..." She sighed. "Okay, whatever, I get it. You win. From now on, I'll just shut up before people beat the crap out of me, is that what you want?"
"No."
She waited for him to continue. He did have a point about this whole "less is more", silence, thing. It was creepy as hell.
"Well, then what do you want?"
"I want you to let me help. I explained that before. And you should know, I rarely even speak to people this much, and I never offer my protection."
"I would ask, 'Why me?', but I know the answer. You really think you can use me to make Kane forgive you."
"Don't look at it as me using you. Look at it as an exchange of favors."
Lita shouldered her gymbag again, shaking her long red locks out to avoid getting them caught in the straps. "Thanks, but no thanks. You've dug your own hole." She'd almost said "grave", but changed her choice of words at the last second. He might think it was a callous reference to Kane's infamous interference at the Buried Alive match.
He raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't expect him to say anything, and she was right, so she continued.
"You said that the guys on this show would just as soon have me out of the way as hold a grudge. Well, if I'm really as pathetic as you make me out to be, I have nothing to fear. I'm no danger to any of them, so there's no reason for anyone to take me out." She blocked from thought the fact that, in one night, she'd already pissed off the F.B.I., made Jones hate her even more, and that Lesnar was still somewhere lurking about. Evolution might still be paying the two big men to take her out. Not pleasant stuff to dwell on.
"I don't want your protection," she stated finally, and turned to leave.
"No," Taker whispered as she walked out. "But you're gonna need it."
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By 10:00 Thursday night, Lita had about two dozen messages on her voicemail. Half of them were for Rob.
She went to sleep early that night, listening to the messages, but not answering them. They all had the same theme, anyway. "Why?"
She thought it would be best to wait until she had a real answer to that question before she called back.
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The next Tuesday night came too quickly. Lita wasn't used to dreading going to work. It had just been another day of the week, before, another chance to be with her friends. Now she felt herself growing dizzy with a tension headache.
"I left Raw to get away from the stress of responsibility," she muttered as she crunched two extra-strength Advils. "Now I have to deal with the stress of possibly getting the crap beaten out of me." She paused thoughtfully. "All things considered, it's still better to just worry about myself for once, instead of a dozen other people."
She got to the arena early, hoping to reach the lockerroom quickly and avoid any further confrontations. She changed into her ring attire and sat on a bench in the corner, absorbed in her own thoughts.
She missed Kane. She had expected that, had known she would miss them all, but she hadn't thought it would be this bad. She missed him so much that her chest was tight with the ache of it. If she so much as breathed in too deeply, the air would come out in a sob and she would start to wail.
The other divas were starting to file into the room. Lita composed herself. They were all ignoring her, anyway. "It really is tough to be the new girl," she thought. "Oh well, I wasn't really interested in being great pals with Torrie Wilson, anyway."
The stagehand peeked his head in to inform them of their matches. She wouldn't be wrestling. Sh*t. All dressed up, no one to fight.
Lita sighed and changed slowly back into her street clothes. At least she could get out of here early tonight.
Her loyal gymbag by her side, she made her way to the exit. Matt was leaning in a corner almost in front of her path. "What are you doing here?" he spat.
Remembering Taker's advice (but still not liking it), she bit her tongue and continued walking. Her old boyfriend, most recent traitor stalked up to here. "What, you ran out of guys on Raw to screw? Got bored and had to move on?"
She turned to face him slowly. She tried to lower her voice, speak calmly and slowly, but to her, it just sounded like she had a cold. "You're the only thing boring me right now."
"What did you say?" He grabbed her shoulder roughly. She was intimidated for a moment, but swallowed it down. She slowly turned her head to look down at his hand, and then, just as slowly, returned her eyes to his face. The silence stretched out as she said nothing.
Matt blinked, and swallowed hard, stepping back. "I don't want to ever see your face again, slut," he choked out as he walked away.
Lita held the pose until he was out of sight, and then relaxed her shoulders, allowing herself to smile a bit, and rejoice in her victory.
Taker's voice floated from just behind her shoulder. "You ruined the effect by giggling, just then."
She spun around. She hadn't even heard him come up.
He stared down at her, his face set in stone, but she could tell by his eyes that he was laughing.
"Fine, your advice worked, but don't expect me to hand over your brother's head on a silver platter in exchange for it."
"I don't need his head," he responded quietly. "His heart's standing right in front of me."
Lita bit her lip. "Shut up, okay?" she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I came here to get away from all of that. You don't have to keep throwing it in my face."
His composure broke a bit. She was glad to see that he was still human, that, if nothing else, her tears could get through to him. "He really is like Kane in so many ways," she thought, and the thought brought a fresh pang of remembrance and longing. Her tears began to flow more freely.
"Hey, stop that," the Undertaker whispered, voice gruff. He glanced away uncomfortably, and actually began to fidget. The more human he acted, the more he reminded her of her Kane, whom everyone had thought a monster. "And I've only betrayed him again," she berated herself, beginning to sob a little now.
"Come on, quit it," the Taker patted her shoulder awkwardly. He seemed to make a decision to himself, and picked up her gymbag. "Come with me. Really. I have to tell you something. Maybe you'll believe me."
"I doubt it," she sniffled, wiping at her running nose. "But right now, I just don't care. I want to get out of here." Her voice sounded so forlorn and miserable that his shoulders dropped. "I really am very sorry for all of this," he said quietly.
"No talking yet. Let's just get out of here before anybody else sees me like this."
"Fair enough."
Not really walking close enough to appear to be together, they left the arena.
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I could have written a lot more, but I figured I'd save a little for the next chapter. I can't help it. This story has pretty much been writing itself, and it hurts to stop letting it out. Kinda hard to explain, but since most of y'all are writers, I think you know what I mean.
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Lita's match with Shaniqua went fairly well. The girl was a lot more athletic than her lean figure gave indication to, but she was still fairly green, and had made a crucial rookie mistake when she turned to play to the audience and left her back exposed to Lita. A reverse twist-of-fate, and it was over.
Lita stayed under the hot water of the shower for a long time after her match. Of course, she had no real desire to return to the dark unfamiliarity of backstage Smackdown, but she also had a lot on her mind. In two nights, when Smackdown aired, her boys would know where she was. She trusted that most of them would leave her alone for a while. Rey was her friend and probably understood her best, so he'd leave her well enough alone. Spike and his brothers would be too pissed and too hurt to come. Tommy and Raven had their girlfriends to focus on, as did Lance, and Justin wouldn't go anywhere without him. Stevie would remain distant and non-confrontational as always.
...But Kane. She could always rely on Kane to surprise her; it made him dependable in his own way. He might come for her, especially if he knew his brother was throwing himself into the mix. Kane still loved the Taker, but love was not the same as trust, and he was fiercely protective when it came to Lita. She leaned her head forward against the tile and simply let the water wash over her, as if by cleansing her body she could clear her mind as well. It wasn't working too well.
She finished her shower, dried off, and got dressed. Best to get out of here before the show ended and the flood of people were all trying to leave at once.
She shouldered her gymbag and stepped out the door, into Nathan Jones.
He sneered down at her. She normally liked Australian accents, but his was menacing.
"What do we have here? Did you miss me, sheila, and decide to come join us?"
"Yeah, I missed kicking your ass. It was so much fun the first time, I just had to come back for seconds. Did that knot on your head ever go down?"
He leaned in close to her. "You aren't holding a chair right now, are you? Nor do you have a dozen of your little friends to back you up. You're all alone."
"No, she isn't." Taker stood impossibly tall a few feet behind them, arms crossed. Though his arms were threatening, his voice never rose above a low, unwavering calm. "Now get out of here, kid, or I'll give you an even bigger beating than the little girl did."
Jones turned to face him and made the disastrous mistake of trying to stare the Undertaker down. He only looked back, his eyes revealing nothing. To Lita he appeared not to move, not to blink, hell, she wasn't even sure he was breathing. Jones shrugged and walked away, slowly enough so it didn't look like his tail was between his legs. Lita glared up at Taker.
"Stop doing that."
He shook his head. "You really are impossible."
"Yeah, so?"
"Would you stop being such a f*cking idiot and actually let me help you?"
The wrath in his voice made her jump. As unnerving as it was, she almost wished he was still being cold and quiet. She wasn't used to seeing him enraged. "Better the devil you know," she thought.
"How am I being an idiot?"
"I didn't say you were being an idiot; I said you were being a f*cking idiot. And if you don't realize how you're acting, then perhaps you're already too far gone." She stared at him patiently. He sighed. "Fine, I'll explain it to you."
"You're all talk and bravado. That worked on Raw, for two reasons. One, you could back it up. Here, you can't. Two, the enemies you dealt with on Raw really hated you and wanted to hurt you. Here, no one really cares. There are no Evolutions on this show, just your everyday, run-of-the-mill criminals. No one here holds a real grudge. On Raw, Triple H or one of his little lackeys would devise some long, complicated scheme to make you all as miserable as possible, but it gave you time to always find a way to weasel out of it. Here, it's shoot first, ask questions later. The bad guys here will just take you out and get you out of their way as quickly as possible."
Despite the harsh truth of his words (and the shock at hearing him actually talk for this long), Lita still found her voice to argue back. "Look, I don't have it as easy as you. I can't just walk around and have everyone be intimidated by my presence. Talk and bravado are all I have to stand on."
He shook his head. "You think it's my size that scares people? Look at Test; he's 6'8". You don't see a lot of people cowering in front of him."
"Yeah, but Test is an idiot. He's always running... his... mouth..." She sighed. "Okay, whatever, I get it. You win. From now on, I'll just shut up before people beat the crap out of me, is that what you want?"
"No."
She waited for him to continue. He did have a point about this whole "less is more", silence, thing. It was creepy as hell.
"Well, then what do you want?"
"I want you to let me help. I explained that before. And you should know, I rarely even speak to people this much, and I never offer my protection."
"I would ask, 'Why me?', but I know the answer. You really think you can use me to make Kane forgive you."
"Don't look at it as me using you. Look at it as an exchange of favors."
Lita shouldered her gymbag again, shaking her long red locks out to avoid getting them caught in the straps. "Thanks, but no thanks. You've dug your own hole." She'd almost said "grave", but changed her choice of words at the last second. He might think it was a callous reference to Kane's infamous interference at the Buried Alive match.
He raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't expect him to say anything, and she was right, so she continued.
"You said that the guys on this show would just as soon have me out of the way as hold a grudge. Well, if I'm really as pathetic as you make me out to be, I have nothing to fear. I'm no danger to any of them, so there's no reason for anyone to take me out." She blocked from thought the fact that, in one night, she'd already pissed off the F.B.I., made Jones hate her even more, and that Lesnar was still somewhere lurking about. Evolution might still be paying the two big men to take her out. Not pleasant stuff to dwell on.
"I don't want your protection," she stated finally, and turned to leave.
"No," Taker whispered as she walked out. "But you're gonna need it."
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By 10:00 Thursday night, Lita had about two dozen messages on her voicemail. Half of them were for Rob.
She went to sleep early that night, listening to the messages, but not answering them. They all had the same theme, anyway. "Why?"
She thought it would be best to wait until she had a real answer to that question before she called back.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next Tuesday night came too quickly. Lita wasn't used to dreading going to work. It had just been another day of the week, before, another chance to be with her friends. Now she felt herself growing dizzy with a tension headache.
"I left Raw to get away from the stress of responsibility," she muttered as she crunched two extra-strength Advils. "Now I have to deal with the stress of possibly getting the crap beaten out of me." She paused thoughtfully. "All things considered, it's still better to just worry about myself for once, instead of a dozen other people."
She got to the arena early, hoping to reach the lockerroom quickly and avoid any further confrontations. She changed into her ring attire and sat on a bench in the corner, absorbed in her own thoughts.
She missed Kane. She had expected that, had known she would miss them all, but she hadn't thought it would be this bad. She missed him so much that her chest was tight with the ache of it. If she so much as breathed in too deeply, the air would come out in a sob and she would start to wail.
The other divas were starting to file into the room. Lita composed herself. They were all ignoring her, anyway. "It really is tough to be the new girl," she thought. "Oh well, I wasn't really interested in being great pals with Torrie Wilson, anyway."
The stagehand peeked his head in to inform them of their matches. She wouldn't be wrestling. Sh*t. All dressed up, no one to fight.
Lita sighed and changed slowly back into her street clothes. At least she could get out of here early tonight.
Her loyal gymbag by her side, she made her way to the exit. Matt was leaning in a corner almost in front of her path. "What are you doing here?" he spat.
Remembering Taker's advice (but still not liking it), she bit her tongue and continued walking. Her old boyfriend, most recent traitor stalked up to here. "What, you ran out of guys on Raw to screw? Got bored and had to move on?"
She turned to face him slowly. She tried to lower her voice, speak calmly and slowly, but to her, it just sounded like she had a cold. "You're the only thing boring me right now."
"What did you say?" He grabbed her shoulder roughly. She was intimidated for a moment, but swallowed it down. She slowly turned her head to look down at his hand, and then, just as slowly, returned her eyes to his face. The silence stretched out as she said nothing.
Matt blinked, and swallowed hard, stepping back. "I don't want to ever see your face again, slut," he choked out as he walked away.
Lita held the pose until he was out of sight, and then relaxed her shoulders, allowing herself to smile a bit, and rejoice in her victory.
Taker's voice floated from just behind her shoulder. "You ruined the effect by giggling, just then."
She spun around. She hadn't even heard him come up.
He stared down at her, his face set in stone, but she could tell by his eyes that he was laughing.
"Fine, your advice worked, but don't expect me to hand over your brother's head on a silver platter in exchange for it."
"I don't need his head," he responded quietly. "His heart's standing right in front of me."
Lita bit her lip. "Shut up, okay?" she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears. "I came here to get away from all of that. You don't have to keep throwing it in my face."
His composure broke a bit. She was glad to see that he was still human, that, if nothing else, her tears could get through to him. "He really is like Kane in so many ways," she thought, and the thought brought a fresh pang of remembrance and longing. Her tears began to flow more freely.
"Hey, stop that," the Undertaker whispered, voice gruff. He glanced away uncomfortably, and actually began to fidget. The more human he acted, the more he reminded her of her Kane, whom everyone had thought a monster. "And I've only betrayed him again," she berated herself, beginning to sob a little now.
"Come on, quit it," the Taker patted her shoulder awkwardly. He seemed to make a decision to himself, and picked up her gymbag. "Come with me. Really. I have to tell you something. Maybe you'll believe me."
"I doubt it," she sniffled, wiping at her running nose. "But right now, I just don't care. I want to get out of here." Her voice sounded so forlorn and miserable that his shoulders dropped. "I really am very sorry for all of this," he said quietly.
"No talking yet. Let's just get out of here before anybody else sees me like this."
"Fair enough."
Not really walking close enough to appear to be together, they left the arena.
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I could have written a lot more, but I figured I'd save a little for the next chapter. I can't help it. This story has pretty much been writing itself, and it hurts to stop letting it out. Kinda hard to explain, but since most of y'all are writers, I think you know what I mean.