I tried to restrain myself, but I just had to keep writing. I know I just updated, but I can't help it. The story's moving faster than my fingers can type. So here I am, at home when I normally only write on my laptop at school, but I'm writing anyway. Curse my overactive imagination.
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"I wanna wake up where you are. I won't say anything..."
Lita turned the radio off with a snap. She'd been listening to it on the way to the arena and it had come on when Taker started the car. Given her emotional state, they agreed it'd be best if he drove. It was one of the few things they'd agreed on in Lita's brief time on Smackdown.
The silence stretched out to the point of awkwardness. Lita gazed out the window, her cheek resting on her hand. The Undertaker stared straight ahead, eyes on the road.
"So...what did you want to talk to me about?"
"You've stopped crying."
"Yeah, even we weak little females can't cry forever."
He sighed and popped his neck to one side, then fixed those ethereal green eyes on her. "It was merely an observation. If we were going to talk, I wanted you to be coherent."
"Fine, I'm coherent. So talk."
"Are you intentionally difficult?"
"An inherent trait. Not my fault."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."
That silence unfurled itself again. This strong, silent type crap was starting to get on Lita's nerves. "Look, just say what you've got to say so I can get back to the hotel."
He startled her by beginning with a question. "Why did you switch shows? The truth."
She stared at him for a while without answering. Two could play this game.
"I wanted to start brand new," she said softly.
He nodded as if he had expected this. "So if you're starting over, then why do you keep acting the same way, making the same mistakes, as you did before?"
She snorted. "I guess I'm just incorrigible."
"I mean, why not...reinvent yourself? Become someone else all together?"
"And who would you have me be?"
Taker looked at her with a seriousness that was almost desperation. "Whoever you want to be. You, but a better version of you."
"So...what's the catch? There has to be some price to pay."
He shook his head. "No catch. At least not if you're careful."
Lita leaned across the seat towards him. "You weren't careful, were you? What did it cost you?"
Taker looked back at her. "Kane's the only family I have left. Please help me hold onto him."
"Only family...?" She crooked an eyebrow up at him. "What about Sara? The baby?"
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second in pain, and when they opened, they were shiny with tears. "That part of me is dead now."
"Is that what you killed? The sacrifice you made to be who you are now?"
He shook his head. "You don't understand. I thought I could have it both ways, be both Mark and the Undertaker."
"What happened?" she almost whispered. It was fascinating and terrible to see him open up like this, to become vulnerable. If he could hurt like this, then truly no one was invincible.
"When Sara was pregnant, it softened me. I couldn't be pissed at the world all the time when I knew I was about to become a daddy."
His use of the word "daddy", particularly combined with the rough calmness of his voice caught Lita off-guard. If he started to weep, she had no idea what she would do.
"Brock Lesnar noticed that, and decided to use it to his advantage. You probably remember the rest. Heyman threatening my wife, Brock spreading his hand over her stomach, and me lying there, powerless to stop them. I couldn't protect her, either of them. I failed them."
Lita spoke slowly, carefully. "But they were both fine. Everything turned out okay."
"Yeah, but no thanks to me. I couldn't face her after that, not really, knowing that, had the moment truly come, she would have been hurt because of me. Our child could have died because of me."
He took a deep breath, and Lita realized just how much effort it was taking him to hold himself together. His narrative was like an acid, eating him from inside, and the retelling of it was even more painful.
"So, though I didn't really kill Mark, he just died. Kinda faded away. And all that was left was the Undertaker, the Dead Man, the badass who cares for no one."
"Not no one," Lita corrected him gently. "You still care about Kane. And you're using that to cling to your last shred of humanity. Something like that?"
He nodded, and a corner of his mouth twitched up in something like a smile. "Yeah, something like that."
"I'll help you," she assured him.
"Thank you."
The silence wrapped around them again, but this time it wasn't awkward or nervewracking. It was warm and peaceful. Lita thought of similar quiet moments she had spent with Kane, and her chest tightened again.
She glanced over at the Undertaker, no longer Mark, but still Kane's big brother. Still someone who cared about the monster, possibly even more than she herself did. For that alone, she could find it in herself to help him.
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Yeah, I know, kinda dark now, huh? Don't worry, it should start getting fun again (eventually). I'm setting up a lot of plot right now, so I can't really promise a lot of humor any time soon, but don't worry, there will be more. It may just be a little darker than usual.
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"I wanna wake up where you are. I won't say anything..."
Lita turned the radio off with a snap. She'd been listening to it on the way to the arena and it had come on when Taker started the car. Given her emotional state, they agreed it'd be best if he drove. It was one of the few things they'd agreed on in Lita's brief time on Smackdown.
The silence stretched out to the point of awkwardness. Lita gazed out the window, her cheek resting on her hand. The Undertaker stared straight ahead, eyes on the road.
"So...what did you want to talk to me about?"
"You've stopped crying."
"Yeah, even we weak little females can't cry forever."
He sighed and popped his neck to one side, then fixed those ethereal green eyes on her. "It was merely an observation. If we were going to talk, I wanted you to be coherent."
"Fine, I'm coherent. So talk."
"Are you intentionally difficult?"
"An inherent trait. Not my fault."
He rolled his eyes. "I'm sure."
That silence unfurled itself again. This strong, silent type crap was starting to get on Lita's nerves. "Look, just say what you've got to say so I can get back to the hotel."
He startled her by beginning with a question. "Why did you switch shows? The truth."
She stared at him for a while without answering. Two could play this game.
"I wanted to start brand new," she said softly.
He nodded as if he had expected this. "So if you're starting over, then why do you keep acting the same way, making the same mistakes, as you did before?"
She snorted. "I guess I'm just incorrigible."
"I mean, why not...reinvent yourself? Become someone else all together?"
"And who would you have me be?"
Taker looked at her with a seriousness that was almost desperation. "Whoever you want to be. You, but a better version of you."
"So...what's the catch? There has to be some price to pay."
He shook his head. "No catch. At least not if you're careful."
Lita leaned across the seat towards him. "You weren't careful, were you? What did it cost you?"
Taker looked back at her. "Kane's the only family I have left. Please help me hold onto him."
"Only family...?" She crooked an eyebrow up at him. "What about Sara? The baby?"
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second in pain, and when they opened, they were shiny with tears. "That part of me is dead now."
"Is that what you killed? The sacrifice you made to be who you are now?"
He shook his head. "You don't understand. I thought I could have it both ways, be both Mark and the Undertaker."
"What happened?" she almost whispered. It was fascinating and terrible to see him open up like this, to become vulnerable. If he could hurt like this, then truly no one was invincible.
"When Sara was pregnant, it softened me. I couldn't be pissed at the world all the time when I knew I was about to become a daddy."
His use of the word "daddy", particularly combined with the rough calmness of his voice caught Lita off-guard. If he started to weep, she had no idea what she would do.
"Brock Lesnar noticed that, and decided to use it to his advantage. You probably remember the rest. Heyman threatening my wife, Brock spreading his hand over her stomach, and me lying there, powerless to stop them. I couldn't protect her, either of them. I failed them."
Lita spoke slowly, carefully. "But they were both fine. Everything turned out okay."
"Yeah, but no thanks to me. I couldn't face her after that, not really, knowing that, had the moment truly come, she would have been hurt because of me. Our child could have died because of me."
He took a deep breath, and Lita realized just how much effort it was taking him to hold himself together. His narrative was like an acid, eating him from inside, and the retelling of it was even more painful.
"So, though I didn't really kill Mark, he just died. Kinda faded away. And all that was left was the Undertaker, the Dead Man, the badass who cares for no one."
"Not no one," Lita corrected him gently. "You still care about Kane. And you're using that to cling to your last shred of humanity. Something like that?"
He nodded, and a corner of his mouth twitched up in something like a smile. "Yeah, something like that."
"I'll help you," she assured him.
"Thank you."
The silence wrapped around them again, but this time it wasn't awkward or nervewracking. It was warm and peaceful. Lita thought of similar quiet moments she had spent with Kane, and her chest tightened again.
She glanced over at the Undertaker, no longer Mark, but still Kane's big brother. Still someone who cared about the monster, possibly even more than she herself did. For that alone, she could find it in herself to help him.
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Yeah, I know, kinda dark now, huh? Don't worry, it should start getting fun again (eventually). I'm setting up a lot of plot right now, so I can't really promise a lot of humor any time soon, but don't worry, there will be more. It may just be a little darker than usual.