First of all, I'd just like to say how very, very pissed I am that Chris
doesn't get his happy ending. Trish plays a damn good heel, and this will
get Christian well out of mid-card status, up to where he should be... but my
poor Y2J has had his heart broken more than once. They're all doing a great
job making Chris and Trish's turns a success. I started bawling my poor
face off, screaming, and hurling things at the TV during WrestleMania. And
I've been pissing and moaning about this to all of my friends since it
started. God, I'm pissed. But now I have more stuff to write about. So,
WWE, I thank you, and at the same time, I give a great big ol' "fuck
yourselves!" I was so for Chris and Trish. But, yes, Chris WILL get his
revenge, believe you me! Even if I have to age fifteen years, show up on
Raw, shove a pointed nail file through Blondie's chest, and save Y2J
myself! Okay, Chigz... marking out quite a bit. =P Calm down. This is the
first fictional storyline to ever affect me so deeply. I'm one sick child.
Anyway... this story takes place during Raw 3/15, with a few short flashbacks to Mania. You'll know when. I don't own any of the characters, nor the song "Here With Me," by Dido.
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Alone. That was only one of the thousands of emotions he had felt the past twenty-four hours. There was nothing to stop it. Nothing he could possibly do. He couldn't even find the strength to cry. Crying wouldn't have solved anything anyway.
He sat in the leather seat of the car, haulted by a red light. His fingers jabbed into his closed eyes, trying desperately to conjure up some sort of tears, to let him know that there were still some left. His eyelids rubbed back and forth across his eyes as he held them shut loosely. He didn't care whether or not he had them open in time for the traffic lights to start shining green.
Chris just wanted to get the hell out of that city, the hell out of his own mind. Just for time enough to be able to tell his friends and family he loved them before sure insanity took over him and he'd be pushed to do the unthinkable. That was all he wanted now.
He spoke to himself, reassuring the fact that he was alive, but God knows what state of mind the man was in. He placed his hands on the wheel, slowly opened his eyes, and stared blankly ahead of him, into the busy street and surrounding city lights.
"The joke's on you, Chris." His tone was almost mechanic, completely unfeeling, and conformed to the same tone of his car engine as it lightly revved up to continue down the road. "You idiot. Too blinded by love to be part of reality."
His chest barely rose at all as he breathed. There was nothing inside of him, no energy to even think. He had only come to Raw that night for his one match, because his career depended on it. To hell with sticking around for anything else. Nothing was worth it. He was too fragile, too weak, too broken, too malnourished to deal with that kind of emotional abuse the whole night. He hadn't eaten a single thing since... since...
*Last Night*
He could feel his stomach at the bottom of his throat. He swore it had almost torn through his lungs and collapsed his heart entirely. Instead of slowly breaking down, his whole existence was made null and void in a single moment. Confusion, panic, shock, disbelief, everything he had dreaded feeling again for such a long time; it all rushed back to him.
He and Christian... their match, their feud seemed like a branch floating in the wind. The storm hadn't risen over him until he saw that look in her eye, that torturous smirk on her face, and felt the unsympathetic sting of her fist on his face... and that kiss.
Those feelings would never leave him. Those images would always be embedded into his head, staining his every thought, every dream, every hope. There was just nothing he could do, and now, sitting alone, running from his fears, turning his back on what was undeniably just the beginning of a harsh reality, those feelings he had thought would never return while Trish was there... they hit him, and hit him hard.
## I didn't hear you leave.
I wonder how am I still here.
I don't want to move a thing,
it might change my memory.
Oh I am what I am, I'll do what I want,
but I can't hide.
I won't go, I won't sleep,
I can't breathe, until you're resting here with me. ##
He turned the car into the hotel parking lot, parked a bit of a distance from the building, and sat. He couldn't move a muscle in his worn body. He couldn't pull himself up to step out of the car. He was wrecked, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt like if he wished hard enough for it, he could stop breathing right then and there, and like the coward he knew himself to be, never have to deal with this pain.
Letting loose every last struggling bit of energy inside of him, he slammed his fists onto the front of the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off. He kept his fists pressed tightly against it, using the prolonged noise as his own cries of pain, an outlet for his hurt.
"Damn you to fucking hell, Trish Stratus!!" His cries were a mere show of his own helplessness, his own defenselessness, and he knew that. They weren't going to do anything but relieve a fraction of the stress he felt.
Chris thrust his head back and tears ran like a soft stream from his eyes. For the first time in a long while, he had found it within him to let the tears flow. He didn't even know if he could cry for some time. He had always been too cocky and proud to cry, but then again, he had never been this pained and simply broken. If there was a perfect time to just sit back and cry the lingering pain within him away, now was it.
## I won't leave, I can't hide. I cannot be, until you're resting here with me. ##
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That's only the first chapter. I don't know how long I'm going to have this play out, but there might be quite a few more chapters before my objective for this story is met. It'll either be all Chris, a bunch of pain and internal conflict, or maybe, if I can figure out how to get a confrontation, I'll add Trish and Christian in and see what happens. Anyway... there WILL be more. I'd like some feedback though, from anyone who is willing to give it! ^^ If you want to review with your C&C on the first chapter, go ahead. If you want to rave or rant about Trish's heel turn, or WrestleMania, or the direction the angle is going in now, go ahead. Just please review, because I love reviews! Also, thanks so much to the people who reviewed my first fanfic, Overdue. I can't even say how overjoyed I was reading such nice comments. Thanks so much to you guys for being so considerate, and for finding the time to read my work. It makes everything worthwhile. I really, really appreciate it.
Anyway... this story takes place during Raw 3/15, with a few short flashbacks to Mania. You'll know when. I don't own any of the characters, nor the song "Here With Me," by Dido.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Alone. That was only one of the thousands of emotions he had felt the past twenty-four hours. There was nothing to stop it. Nothing he could possibly do. He couldn't even find the strength to cry. Crying wouldn't have solved anything anyway.
He sat in the leather seat of the car, haulted by a red light. His fingers jabbed into his closed eyes, trying desperately to conjure up some sort of tears, to let him know that there were still some left. His eyelids rubbed back and forth across his eyes as he held them shut loosely. He didn't care whether or not he had them open in time for the traffic lights to start shining green.
Chris just wanted to get the hell out of that city, the hell out of his own mind. Just for time enough to be able to tell his friends and family he loved them before sure insanity took over him and he'd be pushed to do the unthinkable. That was all he wanted now.
He spoke to himself, reassuring the fact that he was alive, but God knows what state of mind the man was in. He placed his hands on the wheel, slowly opened his eyes, and stared blankly ahead of him, into the busy street and surrounding city lights.
"The joke's on you, Chris." His tone was almost mechanic, completely unfeeling, and conformed to the same tone of his car engine as it lightly revved up to continue down the road. "You idiot. Too blinded by love to be part of reality."
His chest barely rose at all as he breathed. There was nothing inside of him, no energy to even think. He had only come to Raw that night for his one match, because his career depended on it. To hell with sticking around for anything else. Nothing was worth it. He was too fragile, too weak, too broken, too malnourished to deal with that kind of emotional abuse the whole night. He hadn't eaten a single thing since... since...
*Last Night*
He could feel his stomach at the bottom of his throat. He swore it had almost torn through his lungs and collapsed his heart entirely. Instead of slowly breaking down, his whole existence was made null and void in a single moment. Confusion, panic, shock, disbelief, everything he had dreaded feeling again for such a long time; it all rushed back to him.
He and Christian... their match, their feud seemed like a branch floating in the wind. The storm hadn't risen over him until he saw that look in her eye, that torturous smirk on her face, and felt the unsympathetic sting of her fist on his face... and that kiss.
Those feelings would never leave him. Those images would always be embedded into his head, staining his every thought, every dream, every hope. There was just nothing he could do, and now, sitting alone, running from his fears, turning his back on what was undeniably just the beginning of a harsh reality, those feelings he had thought would never return while Trish was there... they hit him, and hit him hard.
## I didn't hear you leave.
I wonder how am I still here.
I don't want to move a thing,
it might change my memory.
Oh I am what I am, I'll do what I want,
but I can't hide.
I won't go, I won't sleep,
I can't breathe, until you're resting here with me. ##
He turned the car into the hotel parking lot, parked a bit of a distance from the building, and sat. He couldn't move a muscle in his worn body. He couldn't pull himself up to step out of the car. He was wrecked, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt like if he wished hard enough for it, he could stop breathing right then and there, and like the coward he knew himself to be, never have to deal with this pain.
Letting loose every last struggling bit of energy inside of him, he slammed his fists onto the front of the steering wheel, causing the horn to go off. He kept his fists pressed tightly against it, using the prolonged noise as his own cries of pain, an outlet for his hurt.
"Damn you to fucking hell, Trish Stratus!!" His cries were a mere show of his own helplessness, his own defenselessness, and he knew that. They weren't going to do anything but relieve a fraction of the stress he felt.
Chris thrust his head back and tears ran like a soft stream from his eyes. For the first time in a long while, he had found it within him to let the tears flow. He didn't even know if he could cry for some time. He had always been too cocky and proud to cry, but then again, he had never been this pained and simply broken. If there was a perfect time to just sit back and cry the lingering pain within him away, now was it.
## I won't leave, I can't hide. I cannot be, until you're resting here with me. ##
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
That's only the first chapter. I don't know how long I'm going to have this play out, but there might be quite a few more chapters before my objective for this story is met. It'll either be all Chris, a bunch of pain and internal conflict, or maybe, if I can figure out how to get a confrontation, I'll add Trish and Christian in and see what happens. Anyway... there WILL be more. I'd like some feedback though, from anyone who is willing to give it! ^^ If you want to review with your C&C on the first chapter, go ahead. If you want to rave or rant about Trish's heel turn, or WrestleMania, or the direction the angle is going in now, go ahead. Just please review, because I love reviews! Also, thanks so much to the people who reviewed my first fanfic, Overdue. I can't even say how overjoyed I was reading such nice comments. Thanks so much to you guys for being so considerate, and for finding the time to read my work. It makes everything worthwhile. I really, really appreciate it.
