Title: Never Again
Author: Kat!
Disclaimer: Don't own them...wish I did. Oh the possibilities.
Rating: Hard R...yet again.
Content: Physical abuse, drinking, and character death.
Characters: Booker (Booker T) and Stacy (Keibler)
Summary: After years of abuse, Stacy finally says "never again."
Warnings: This is another dark fic, so take that in mind if/when you read! 3rd person POV.
Spoilers: None I don't believe.

Lyrical inspiration: "Never Again" by Nickleback. Lyrics included at the end.

She could always tell when he'd had "a little too much to drink."

When she walked into their modest two-story house near the arena, something crunched under the toe of her Louis Vutton stiletto. Her favorite glass vase was in shards on the kitchen floor. Setting her groceries on the breakfast table, she bent down to pick them up. Outside, she was calm...but inside, she was fearing for her life.

He saw her walk in. He'd been on the other side of the room, watching her go through the mundane routine he'd played out in his head several times already. The house was trashed, as was he, but she was worried about that one simple vase. Crossing the room with speed that his job afforded him much practice in perfecting, he came up behind her hunched form undetected. Two large, deep brown hands came up to the back of her pretty blonde head and slammed her face first into the remaining pieces of green glass she had so painstakingly tried to pick up.

In the split-second between the time she felt his hand on the back of her head, and she made contact with the tiled floor in front of her, her life flashed before her big blue eyes. "Oh God, please don't let me die" were her last thoughts before she slid under the blanket of unconsciousness. Her life was one of countless bruises, going through bottle after bottle of concealer a week...hoping her charade would hold up at work. Punches and kicks, screams and weak defense made up her existence now.

When that weight was lifted from the back of her head, she sat up and instantly her whole upper body hurt. Her eyes were closed due to the amount of blood pouring down from her forehead. Using the table and chairs to her left to get up, screaming as she ran into the kitchen. Splashing water on her face and using paper towels to try and erase the pain. There he stood, a satanic smirk on those usually handsome features. The moment she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, she doubled over coughing. The pungent odor of beer overflowed her sensitive senses, and he was reeking of it.

The tears in her eyes brought him back to his right mind, as did the blood running down her slender cheeks. Picking her up in his chiseled arms, he carried her out to his car and drove her to the hospital. Admitting her to the Emergency Room, but not before prepping her on what to say the ride down there. She would doze off...or zone out...and a sharp slap to her mutilated cheek would bring her back to reality. After repeating the phony story for him, he played the part of a good husband and frantically started screaming for doctor attention.

"I...just fell, sir. My shoes aren't too sturdy...as you can tell. I was walking in the door, and I tripped, knocking over a vase and falling face-first into the glass." That was what she had rehearsed, and somehow, it was more comforting than the truth. Choosing to envelope herself in that reality, trying to shut the harsh world out. This was the worst it had ever gotten. Sure, he'd punched her...he'd kicked her...he'd even slammed her into the wall once or twice. But cutting her face open on a broken vase? It had never gotten that bad.

The doctor didn't believe her, she could see it in his eyes. Maybe that's why he went out to the waiting room to get her husband. He was the perfect picture of the concerned man he ought to be. His face in his hands...those horrible hands...tears streaming down his cheeks. Those infamous dreads covered most of his face, and his large frame was bent at the waist, so all he could do was stare at the floor. "Your wife will be fine, Sir, she should heal perfectly with the medicine I gave her." After an exuberant "Thank you!" and a rush to go see his befallen love, the doctor just shook his head and walked to the back.

A week's gone by. He hasn't drank yet. But he just won the title, so he's celebrating. She woke up from her nap, uninvited to the festivities...as usual. Coming down the stairs, surprised to see everyone else had left. The coffee table pushed back...the sofa and love seat pushed against the same wall, and there he stood, in the middle of the empty "arena", just waiting to strike.

She was such an easy victim. Her willowy, slender frame was nothing on his larger-than-life one. She was so lithe...so bendable that he could do just about anything he wanted to with her, and that was why he kept her along. A fist was wound up, and was only inches from making contact with her perfect-again cheek. When he fell.

She'd found that hand gun he always kept beside the bed. It always unnerved her...she was never sure if he meant to use it on her, or an intruder. Well, lucky for her, the chamber was full. But not for long. He thought she was a stupid ballerina with no offense due to her small stature and thin frame. He was wrong, because he fell with one bullet...just like everyone else.

He'd never been shot before. Shot at, perhaps, but never shot. As the searing white pain shot through his frame like an electric shock, another ripped through him. Then another. By that time, he was incapable of feeling.

She'd killed him. The dead body of Booker lay at her perfectly pedicure feet. Of course, she would call it a crime of passion...self-defense even. Stacy Keibler would never be taken advantage of again. Never again.

Nickleback- Never Again

He's drunk again, it's time to fight

She must have done something wrong tonight

The living room becomes a boxing ring

It's time to run when you see him

Clenching his hands

She's just a woman

Never Again

I hear her scream, from down the hall

Amazing she can even talk at all

She cries to me, Go back to bed

I'm terrified that she'll wind up

Dead in his hands, She's just a woman

Never Again

Been there before, but not like this

Seen it before, but not like this

Never before have I ever

Seen it this bad

She's just a woman

Never Again

Just tell the nurse, you slipped and fell

It starts to sting as it starts to swell

She looks at you, she wants the truth

It's right out there in the waiting room

With those hands

Lookin' just as sweet as he can

Never Again

Seen it before, but not like this

Been there before, but not like this

Never before have I ever

Seen it this bad

She's just a woman

Never Again

Father's a name you haven't earned yet

You're just a child with a temper

Haven't you heard "Don't hit a lady"?

Kickin' your ass would be a pleasure

He's drunk again, it's time to fight

Same old shit, just on a different night

She grabs the gun, she's had enough

Tonight she'll find out how fucking

Tough is this man

Pulls the trigger as fast as she can

Never Again

Seen it before, but not like this

Been there before, but not like this

Never before have I ever

Seen it this bad

She's just a woman

Never Again