Title: Endless Love
Author: Crimson Coin CrimsonCoinyahoo.com
Rating: PG 15 and higher at some points. Warning: Language.
Summery: The sequel to "Unstoppable". Will Chris Jericho and Trish Stratus's love truly be able to last?
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any of the affiliated wrestlers.
Timeline: From March 22, 2004 and all said dates.
Archiving: Ask me first.
May 17, 2004
The Rock smiled broadly as he strutted down the arena halls. San Diego, California and he was happy to be back inside the arena. It felt good. Seeing the boys, the girls ... oh yes, those girls. There was nothing like looking at one of those sizzling WWE Divas. Many of the women in Hollywood couldn't measure up. Usually too thin or arrogant, pompous dingbats who didn't know a bicep from their left ass cheek.
But in the arena, The Rock felt at home.
"Rocky?"
The Rock's smile brightened, his eyes falling half lid with amusement as he spun with his stride, facing the owner of the voice behind him. "Why, Hello there, Baby. It's been some time since The Rock has seen your lovely self."
Lillian Garcia smiled at him with a slight shake of the head. "You really never change, do you?"
"Change? The Rock never changes. The Rock ... hates change. Especially when you're on the highway and you see every lane has 'exact change only'. Oh yes, that really pisses The Rock off."
Lillian laughed, placing a hand on her chest as she stepped closer to him. "No. You never change." Her laughter trailed off and she cocked her head, eyeing him tenderly. "But seriously, it's great to see you again. I never expected ..."
The Rock held up a single hand, silencing her. "Now what makes you think that The Rock would miss the opportunity to be here when RAW is so close to The Rock's home."
"Cut the third person shit." she jested. "The camera's aren't on back here."
He nodded, his patented superstar grin shining bright. "That is true but ... The Rock afraid he doesn't know what you're talking about."
She shook her head. "Fine. You win. But seriously, Rocky. I want to talk to you."
"About what?" The Rock asked, a softness to his voice – a softness not commonly heard in his voice.
Lillian recognized the new tone and shivered at the thought that he only held that tone with her. "About what's been going on since Wrestlemania."
"Chris Jericho called me and cleared everything up. The Rock knows everything, as The Rock always does."
Lillian pointed a finger, her brow raised flirtatiously. "Slipped up there. I heard a first person pronoun."
He cocked a single brow. "Now don't you make The Rock lay the Smackdown."
She took one step closer, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Well, where exactly did you have that in mind? Because there's an empty locker room right behind you."
He chuckled. "What is this? Are you saying you are up for a little game of 'Hide the Strudel' with The Rock. Hey now ... Easy big fella." He teased, rubbing his thigh. "Is that what you are insinuating, Miss Lillian Garcia."
She shrugged, running her hand up his arm, loving how his eyes momentarily fluttered before he regained control. "Quite possibly. But I wanna talk first."
"Pillow talk, huh, Baby. That is more than fine with The Rock."
Lillian ducked her head, eyeing both ends of the hallway to make sure they were alone. "It's everything with everyone. Everything's gone downhill since March and I don't know which way is up. Something is seriously fishy with Trish and Christian because I've seen Trish when she doesn't know I'm looking and that girl looks absolutely destroyed. And when those two are off camera, the flirting and the sexy looks all fade away and there's this different aura about them. I don't know what's going on but I've caught Stacy slipping into Trish's locker room every now and then and I've seen Christian talking to Edge every once in a while and they seem ok."
She shook her head, absently trailing her hand to his chest, dancing her fingers over his abdomen, not even noticing the way his body twitched at her affectionate stimulus. "And Chris had been an absolute mess. Something must have happened because one week he's this fuming arrogant mad man and the next he's back to the lost little puppy. I thought he'd gotten over her and then ... poof ... he's moping. Well, not really moping, he's more determined than that. But still, something's so different. He's like a different person."
She sighed. "Stacy's been hanging around Edge a lot and I think it's sweet the way they've been getting along. They aren't together or anything but there's just this ... I don't know, maybe they are together but no one knows. Lita is ... God, I don't know what happened to her. Matt saved face and Lita is trapped with that Kane and nobody knows what it is she promised to do but she's been acting weird. She hasn't spoken to really anyone in a long while and her ... she just seems so lost. God, I wouldn't be surprised if she went back to the drugs. Rumor has it that Jeff hasn't talked to her since a few weeks after Wrestlemania. Jesus, Rocky, everything's falling to hell and I'm watching my friends all spiral out of control."
"Shhh," The Rock hushed, pulling the shuddering woman against his chest, hugging her tightly, and rocking gently to still her cries. "Shhh, it's all right. You and I are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to make everything right and everything is going to be fine."
She sniffled, easing back from him to look up at his face. "Do ... do you mean that?"
Rock smiled, his familiar bright smile, warm and gentle in his care with her. "Of course, The Rock means that."
Her eyes narrowed in mock anger. "And what did I tell you about using the third person with me now. Cut it out or I'll be forced to take drastic action."
Flirtatiously, he cocked his head, his hands splayed across her back as he caressed her. "And what exactly do you think that you could do to The One and only trail blazin', eye brow raisin', kiss stealin', pie eatin' People's Champion, The Rock."
"Well," Lillian huffed. "I'll just be forced to give you the best kiss of your life, Mister. That's just what I'll have to do."
"Oh," he responded. "Well, far be it from The Rock to deny such a thing from a beautiful lady."
She smiled, lifting onto her toes and brushing her lips over his. "I'm going to get every other Hollywood woman out of your mind. And then you'll be spoiled. And you'll have to have only ... me."
Lillian captured his lips, shoving him against the wall. He quickly responded, kissing her with a fierce intensity as he felt desperately at the wall behind him, finding the door handle. With a quick turn, he opened the door and the pair fell to the floor inside that locker room, wrapped in each other's arms.
Trish Stratus nervously licked her lips, pausing outside of Edge's locker room. Her hand raised, she dared to knock, though her nerves tried to convince her other wise. But she had to speak to him, to someone ... anyone who would listen. She knocked.
After some moments of scuffling and rustling, the door opened. A wide-eyed Stacy Keibler stood against the frame, her lips down-turned in a frown. "Trish?"
"Stace, I ..."
Stacy didn't hesitate. She grabbed her friend's arm, pulling the distraught petite blonde into the locker room. Quickly Stacy brought a finger to her lips. "Shhh." She hushed then pointed across the way.
Edge gave a small wave, holding the cell tightly to his ear. "Look ... I know ... I know, but you've got to listen to me. ... ... Please just consider it. We all need you here." Edge sighed, pressing a hand into his eyes then raking the blonde fibers out of his sight. "I know. And I can only imagine what this whole thing feels like but ... God damn it, would you just listen to me for one moment?"
Trish sucked her lower lip into her mouth, jittery at the tone from the tall man.
Edge shook his head. "None of that shit matters, ok? You've just got to see past that and realize that there's more here at stake than just you. There're more people hurting here than just you and we all need you here. Whether you're stable or not makes no difference in my book and ... Would you let me finish? Jesus, Matt and Lita both could use you here. Because Jericho, Benoit and I can't look out for them all the time."
Trish closed her eyes at the mention of Jericho's name. Even hearing his name brought her pain, guilt of what she'd done.
"Please," Edge begged. "I'm begging you. Tr ... Don't you fucking say that about her. You don't know anything so don't be passing judgment. ... Jeff, listen to me."
Trish's eyes bolted open and she rushed towards Edge, her gaze hopeful as she reached desperately for the phone.
With a defeated sigh, the tall blonde handed over the cell.
Anxious, Trish licked her lips. Clearing her throat, she brought the cell to her ear. "J ... Jeff?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone. His deep breaths could be heard, steady and rhythmic though he spoke no words.
"Jeff? Please ... are ... are you still there?"
"What did you do to Edge?"
The harsh abrasiveness of his voice scratched at her heart and Trish had to swallow her tears. "I didn't do anything. He's right here. He ... He gave me the phone. Christian and Tyson aren't here tonight. I ... I'm all alone and Edge ..."
"What?" Jeff snarled. "You decided to see if you could offer your services to him? Well, I think you'll be surprised, Trish, when he throws you out on your whorish ass."
"Stop it!" Trish pleaded into the phone. "Stop it, don't say such things."
"Why? Because they're true? Because you can't bear hearing the truth?"
"No."
"Don't toy with me," Jeff said, his voice laden with intensity and betrayal. "Haven't you done enough toying with men's hearts? Or do you need another for your conquests?"
"No, please ..."
"Do my words bother you, Trish? What if I were to call you a selfish two- bit whore who never deserved Chris or his affection? What if I tell you that you never deserved the love that Lita and I willing gave to you as our friend?"
"Jeff ..."
"I defended you!" He cried, the receiver crackling with his volume. "I defended you throughout your career. Lita and I were there for you every step of the way. Anything you needed, you only had to ask and it was there. You were family to us. And what you did to her ... that's not cool, Trish. We are not cool now. Not anymore."
"Jeff, please. I ... Let me explain."
"Explain what? Explain how you made sure that Chris was madly in love with you and then toss him to the side like an unwanted hunk of meat? How you rubbed it in Chris's face about your relationship ... the names you called him? Or maybe, you'd like to explain your actions with Lita. Was that a joke to you, Trish? Was Chris a joke?!"
"No, it's not like that." Trish whimpered, her eyes closed to force the tears back.
"I don't want to hear any explanation you'd give." Jeff said, coolly. "Tell Edge that I'll think about what he said. Goodbye, Trish."
The tears pricked from her eyes as the dial tone screamed obnoxiously in her ear, his words ringing hauntingly.
"Sweetie," Stacy cooed, stepping up to the other woman and enveloping her in her arms. "Shhh. There, there."
Trish shook her head, letting her hand drop from her ear as she fisted the cell phone in her hand.
"Here, Honey." Edge said, softly, taking the cell phone from her hand and clicking it shut. "It'll be ok."
But Trish only shook her head again, pushing back from Stacy and wiping the tears furiously from her eyes. "I ... I need you to ... to do something for me."
"Anything," Stacy whispered and Edge stood behind her, his hand protectively on the leggy woman's waist. Her smile was warm and comforting, friendly. "Name it."
"I need ... I need you to check on Chris for me."
Confused, Stacy cocked her head. "Chris? Whatever for?"
Trish swallowed her nerves and the lump in her throat. "He ... he landed awkward on the way over the ropes and ... his ... his knee hit those stairs and he was clutching it and it was his bad knee and I just have to know if he's ok. I ... I have to."
"Why don't you go talk to him?" Edge suggested.
Trish's eyes widened. "What? No ... no, I couldn't do that."
"Why not?" Edge shrugged, looking at Stacy a moment before his eyes locked on Trish again. "There's nothing to lose."
"I can't." Trish said, quickly, her words tumbling over the last. "I can't. I just can't. Because I could never go in there and I don't know what to do and I ..."
"Trish," Stacy interrupted, placing a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder. "It's ok. I'll go talk to him. You can even stand outside the door and listen for yourself so you can make sure he's ok."
Trish nodded, her eyes on the ground. "Thank you."
Stacy grabbed her friend's hand, leading her from the locker room and down the hall. Trish followed wordless as they weaved down the dark corridors of the arena. One way then the next, eventually they came upon Chris's room. Stacy stopped, a moment, controlling herself before walking right in.
Trish's eyes flew open as the door swung shut.
"Chris fucking Jericho, what in the holy hell do you think you're doing flying over the top rope like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I nearly pulled Nidia's arm right out of the damn socket."
Trish moved quickly, leaning against the door to listen.
Chris laughed. "Jeez, Stace. You don't talk to me for weeks and all of a sudden you're worried?"
"Of course I'm worried, you imbecile. I never stopped caring even though I was scared to death of you."
"Yeeeeah. About that. Look Stace. I ... I am so sorry about that. I just let things spiral out of control and ..."
"Don't worry about it. All is forgiven on my end."
"And on Edge's?"
Stacy's voice tinged with her smile. "Well, he'll take a little longer but I'm sure I can convince him."
"That sounds good. I'll work my ass off to do that. Lord knows, I don't need anymore enemies."
"You and me both." There was a long pause. "How's your knee?"
"Good God, woman, don't touch it!" Chris hollered. "Jesus, what are you trying to kill me? Do you know what you're doing? Hey ... wait, Stace. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just ... I'm a little antsy that's all."
"I wasn't walking away from you, idiot. I was grabbing another icepack. And to answer your question ... No, I don't know what I'm doing. But in my book, if it's swollen ... ice it."
"Sounds like a plan ... you know ... with the exception of ... certain ... parts."
Stacy giggled. "So dirty, Chris. So ... how you holding up?"
Chris hissed. "Ah ... God, that fucking stings."
Trish resisted every urge to rush through that door and check on him. Her heart beat wildly with her racing nerves and her mouth ran dry.
"What stings?"
"The stairs. They broke skin on my knee. Here ... help me pull this tight leg up a bit so ... ... yeah, there we go."
"Mother of God," Stacy sighed, frustrated. "You fucking men and your injuries. If it isn't the head it's the knee or the neck or the elbow."
"Don't forget groin. That is a very important part of the body."
Trish wiped her hands on her pants. Blood? There was blood? How bad was it? Where? How badly did it hurt? Was his head ok? How did his eyes look? Was he worn and tired or was his hair tangled from the match? Was he slightly glistening with sweat or was he fairly dry?
"Anyway!" Stacy giggled. "Back to my question. How are you?"
"Stace ... look in my eyes." There was a moment of silence. "How do you think I am?"
"I'm sorry, Chris." Stacy breathed. "Anything keeping your mind at ease?"
"Oh God," Chris laughed. "Funny story ... are you ready for this? So there was this girl ..."
Trish pulled away from the door, quickly walking down the hall. She didn't want to hear about that. She didn't want to hear anything about any girl or anything they did. The thought of Chris sleeping with Lita still churned the raging passionate jealousy within her and she found it hard to restrain those emotions.
In a way, that jealousy accounted for her actions with Lita. She knew it was mean and cruel but she couldn't help it. Lita slept with her man. Granted, he wasn't completely hers ... well, in that not at all kind of way. But that was irrelevant. The point was that Lita still slept with Chris.
And Trish couldn't bring herself to feel bad about the way she'd been teasing Lita. First, Chris. And now she's back to Matt? Well, that's her loss. If Lita wanted to return to that two time lying son of a bitch, then she could. Trish didn't care.
She shook her head. That was a lie. Trish cared, probably too much.
"There's that sexy lady."
Trish gasped, turning quickly at the voice and her eyes widened. "D ... Drew?"
Test smiled, sinisterly. "You should remember my name. I made you scream it more than once." He inched closer.
"You stay away from me." Trish commanded in a shaky voice, pinning herself against the wall.
Test chuckled. "Ah, I have you trained so well. You just put yourself right where I want you."
She swallowed hard, desperately searching the hallway for someone ... anyone. "Someone!" she called. "Help me, please!"
"No one is gonna hear you, much less come to your aid." Test answered with a sneer and he moved closer to her, one large hand reaching out to grab her wrist. "Don't you remember, Trish? You're the town whore now."
Trish squirmed. "No ... don't."
"Aww, already moving." Test stepped closer, flush against her. "Are you already wet for me too?"
Trish's heart raced, her breathing fast and she did the only thing she could think of. He was too close for her to move, she had to get free. Turning her head, she bit down on his hand, hard. She could taste the coppery tinge of blood in her mouth and she released him.
But Test didn't let her go. Instead, his hand wrapped around her neck and he squeezed. "That wasn't very nice, whore." He tilted his head. "I was considering being gentle with you, since you are a loose whore and all."
Trish viciously shook her head, squirming under his hold, gasping for much needed air. "No," she whimpered. "Please ... please don't."
"Now, I asked you a question. I asked you if you ... were wet for me." Those words said, his one hand stayed place on her throat, the other attacking her jeans and quickly unfastening them, shoving them down her legs. "There's my pretty little whore. That's what you're used to. Your pants around your ankles and me ... right here between your legs."
"No, no no." Trish cried, her tears streaming as her eyes glazed over flashing with the present and images of the past. "God, help me. Please, God. Oh God, please."
His thick clumsy fingers toying with the top of her panties, he snickered. "What makes you think that God gives two shits about a cheap whore like you?"
Trish squeezed her eyes shut, the tears free falling and she prepared herself for the trauma. The trauma that she wished to never experience again, to never have forced on her. She prepared herself as she did countless times before in the same situation with this same man.
Her eyes flew open and she gasped for air when his presence was gone and she fell to the floor on her hands and knees, desperate for air. Forcing her gaze up, she needed to know what happened; her eyes must have deceived her.
Chris Jericho grabbed Test by the head, ramming the other man's skull into the opposite cement wall. As Test staggered back, Chris let out a loud roar before slamming a steel chair over the big man's head, denting the chair seat in his violent viciousness.
Trish swallowed hard, watching as Chris dropped the chair to his side. His hair ruffled, his clothes disheveled. He appeared to be unready, as if interrupted and ... could he have heard her and come to her aid?
Chris roughly raked the hair from his eyes, his gaze ablaze and filled with passion as he leaned over the semi-conscious man. Jericho pinched her attacker's cheeks. "Look at me, you son of a bitch." He commanded in an almost possessed voice. "If I ever ... and I mean ... Ever ... catch you forcing anything from her again."
Test gurgled something then smiled. "What?" he murmured. "All she is ... is a good ... cunt fuck ... and you know it."
"Wrong answer." Jericho growled, soccer kicking the man hard in the stomach. Test recoiled at the action, coughing and Chris kicked again, even harder. "Very ... wrong ... answer." Two more abdomen kicks and Jericho pinched Test's cheeks again, forcing the eye contact.
Test moaned, his head wobbling as he stayed conscious ... barely.
"Now, we're going to start this again." Jericho said, intensely angered. "If I ever see you even looking at her in a way that I feel is ... inappropriate ... I'll take your fucking eye out. If I catch you touching her in a way she doesn't want to be touched ... I'll break your fucking hand. If I catch you putting your mouth on her in any way ... I'll rip out your tongue. And if I catch you doing anything else ... I'll break your god damned neck." Chris cocked his head one way then the next. "Did you ever see Pulp Fiction, Drew? You know ... the movie."
Test swallowed hard.
"Well, let me tell you about that movie." Chris explained. "You see ... there's a part in that movie that involves a rape. Do you remember that part?"
Test shook his head.
"Oh," Jericho smiled. "Then let me remind you." Chris dropped to his knee, his face inching towards Test as his voice lowered with rage. "In that scene, there's a man ... raping another man. And that person who's being raped ... he really doesn't want to be raped. He is big ... and angry ... and very ... very insane. Now Bruce Willis ... interrupts this rape ... and that big ... angry ... man is freed. Do you know what happens next?"
Test shook his head again.
"I'll tell you." Chris continued. "You see that big ... angry ... man is not too happy with the fact that he was raped. So as he and Bruce Willis are eyeing the rapist ... The angry ... insane man ... takes a shotgun ... and blasts off that rapists balls, cocks, groin ... that whole region." He inhaled, sadistically. "Ah, it was a beautiful moment. Do you know what this has to do with you?"
Test shook his head.
"You see ... what you do to her ... you do to me." Chris said slowly and carefully. "So if you rape her ... then you rape me. And you know what ... I don't like being raped. I figure from this confrontation ... you can probably tell that I'm very ... very angry ... and quite insane. Do I make myself ... perfectly ... clear?"
Test gave a quick nod, swallowing his fears.
"Good," Jericho snarled, straightening up and letting his eyes fall on his one time love.
Trish couldn't keep the tears from her eyes or the shakes from her body. Her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging her legs to her chest. Test coughed, curling into his side and Chris kept his eyes focused on her little body.
He cocked his head, his eyes locked on hers. Flaring with rage, passion and anger that he kept controlled, he watched her rock back and forth, gathering herself. He didn't move, didn't speak, simply gave her the time she needed.
Swallowing hard, Trish held his eyes, unable to stand or even find the strength to move from her position yet. Her eyes open books; she couldn't look away.
In that moment, Chris could see something, some type of understanding. He knew there was nothing left for him here, that he had to walk away and resist those urges to step over her fallen attacker, wrap her in his arms and coo in her ear until everything was alright. He had to resist that urge, the yearning desire to protect her and comfort her in that way. She was not his to comfort in that way anymore. And despite the moment, the very moment that lingered forever between their eyes, Chris still knew he'd lost her. He knew that next week, the antic would continue and she'd be at Christian's side as if nothing had happened.
He knew that again after he'd saved her from her nightmares, she'd run to the arms of another man for solace and comfort. She'd run away from him, away from the love he offered and the protection he willingly gave eternally to her. He didn't know what to expect, what she would do or how she'd react after this moment.
One thing he knew and that was the rising dread in his stomach. The dread of knowing that this precious moment brought on by fear, loathing and trauma would end just as the last did. She would forget and deny his love to run into the arms of another man. Chris felt his heart shattering again, he felt the same knowing pains, the realization that she truly was never his and most likely never would be.
The pain and rejection with Stephanie paled to the despair this single moment caved upon his heart. It was Wrestlemania all over again. Only this time, Chris knew what he was doing. Closing his eyes, he turned his back, walking away from the woman he loved.
The tears pricked from his eyes with each passing step, every inch he journeyed from her ripped the warmth and hope from his body.
He glanced back over his shoulder as Trish stumbled to her feet, her eyes on her fallen attacker. She quickly righted her pants, wiping the tears from her eyes before charging down the opposite end of the arena. In that instant, Chris felt the life drain from his body. The coming weeks would truly be a death sentence. He prayed for death. At least, it would alleviate his unbearable pain. All he could do was hope that something was righted next week. And maybe, just maybe he could hold his precious Trish again.
(Nice long one. I'm thinking of continuing ... I mean, I could and there's still so much left to do. Review, let me know what you all think.)
Author: Crimson Coin CrimsonCoinyahoo.com
Rating: PG 15 and higher at some points. Warning: Language.
Summery: The sequel to "Unstoppable". Will Chris Jericho and Trish Stratus's love truly be able to last?
Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any of the affiliated wrestlers.
Timeline: From March 22, 2004 and all said dates.
Archiving: Ask me first.
May 17, 2004
The Rock smiled broadly as he strutted down the arena halls. San Diego, California and he was happy to be back inside the arena. It felt good. Seeing the boys, the girls ... oh yes, those girls. There was nothing like looking at one of those sizzling WWE Divas. Many of the women in Hollywood couldn't measure up. Usually too thin or arrogant, pompous dingbats who didn't know a bicep from their left ass cheek.
But in the arena, The Rock felt at home.
"Rocky?"
The Rock's smile brightened, his eyes falling half lid with amusement as he spun with his stride, facing the owner of the voice behind him. "Why, Hello there, Baby. It's been some time since The Rock has seen your lovely self."
Lillian Garcia smiled at him with a slight shake of the head. "You really never change, do you?"
"Change? The Rock never changes. The Rock ... hates change. Especially when you're on the highway and you see every lane has 'exact change only'. Oh yes, that really pisses The Rock off."
Lillian laughed, placing a hand on her chest as she stepped closer to him. "No. You never change." Her laughter trailed off and she cocked her head, eyeing him tenderly. "But seriously, it's great to see you again. I never expected ..."
The Rock held up a single hand, silencing her. "Now what makes you think that The Rock would miss the opportunity to be here when RAW is so close to The Rock's home."
"Cut the third person shit." she jested. "The camera's aren't on back here."
He nodded, his patented superstar grin shining bright. "That is true but ... The Rock afraid he doesn't know what you're talking about."
She shook her head. "Fine. You win. But seriously, Rocky. I want to talk to you."
"About what?" The Rock asked, a softness to his voice – a softness not commonly heard in his voice.
Lillian recognized the new tone and shivered at the thought that he only held that tone with her. "About what's been going on since Wrestlemania."
"Chris Jericho called me and cleared everything up. The Rock knows everything, as The Rock always does."
Lillian pointed a finger, her brow raised flirtatiously. "Slipped up there. I heard a first person pronoun."
He cocked a single brow. "Now don't you make The Rock lay the Smackdown."
She took one step closer, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Well, where exactly did you have that in mind? Because there's an empty locker room right behind you."
He chuckled. "What is this? Are you saying you are up for a little game of 'Hide the Strudel' with The Rock. Hey now ... Easy big fella." He teased, rubbing his thigh. "Is that what you are insinuating, Miss Lillian Garcia."
She shrugged, running her hand up his arm, loving how his eyes momentarily fluttered before he regained control. "Quite possibly. But I wanna talk first."
"Pillow talk, huh, Baby. That is more than fine with The Rock."
Lillian ducked her head, eyeing both ends of the hallway to make sure they were alone. "It's everything with everyone. Everything's gone downhill since March and I don't know which way is up. Something is seriously fishy with Trish and Christian because I've seen Trish when she doesn't know I'm looking and that girl looks absolutely destroyed. And when those two are off camera, the flirting and the sexy looks all fade away and there's this different aura about them. I don't know what's going on but I've caught Stacy slipping into Trish's locker room every now and then and I've seen Christian talking to Edge every once in a while and they seem ok."
She shook her head, absently trailing her hand to his chest, dancing her fingers over his abdomen, not even noticing the way his body twitched at her affectionate stimulus. "And Chris had been an absolute mess. Something must have happened because one week he's this fuming arrogant mad man and the next he's back to the lost little puppy. I thought he'd gotten over her and then ... poof ... he's moping. Well, not really moping, he's more determined than that. But still, something's so different. He's like a different person."
She sighed. "Stacy's been hanging around Edge a lot and I think it's sweet the way they've been getting along. They aren't together or anything but there's just this ... I don't know, maybe they are together but no one knows. Lita is ... God, I don't know what happened to her. Matt saved face and Lita is trapped with that Kane and nobody knows what it is she promised to do but she's been acting weird. She hasn't spoken to really anyone in a long while and her ... she just seems so lost. God, I wouldn't be surprised if she went back to the drugs. Rumor has it that Jeff hasn't talked to her since a few weeks after Wrestlemania. Jesus, Rocky, everything's falling to hell and I'm watching my friends all spiral out of control."
"Shhh," The Rock hushed, pulling the shuddering woman against his chest, hugging her tightly, and rocking gently to still her cries. "Shhh, it's all right. You and I are going to get to the bottom of this and we're going to make everything right and everything is going to be fine."
She sniffled, easing back from him to look up at his face. "Do ... do you mean that?"
Rock smiled, his familiar bright smile, warm and gentle in his care with her. "Of course, The Rock means that."
Her eyes narrowed in mock anger. "And what did I tell you about using the third person with me now. Cut it out or I'll be forced to take drastic action."
Flirtatiously, he cocked his head, his hands splayed across her back as he caressed her. "And what exactly do you think that you could do to The One and only trail blazin', eye brow raisin', kiss stealin', pie eatin' People's Champion, The Rock."
"Well," Lillian huffed. "I'll just be forced to give you the best kiss of your life, Mister. That's just what I'll have to do."
"Oh," he responded. "Well, far be it from The Rock to deny such a thing from a beautiful lady."
She smiled, lifting onto her toes and brushing her lips over his. "I'm going to get every other Hollywood woman out of your mind. And then you'll be spoiled. And you'll have to have only ... me."
Lillian captured his lips, shoving him against the wall. He quickly responded, kissing her with a fierce intensity as he felt desperately at the wall behind him, finding the door handle. With a quick turn, he opened the door and the pair fell to the floor inside that locker room, wrapped in each other's arms.
Trish Stratus nervously licked her lips, pausing outside of Edge's locker room. Her hand raised, she dared to knock, though her nerves tried to convince her other wise. But she had to speak to him, to someone ... anyone who would listen. She knocked.
After some moments of scuffling and rustling, the door opened. A wide-eyed Stacy Keibler stood against the frame, her lips down-turned in a frown. "Trish?"
"Stace, I ..."
Stacy didn't hesitate. She grabbed her friend's arm, pulling the distraught petite blonde into the locker room. Quickly Stacy brought a finger to her lips. "Shhh." She hushed then pointed across the way.
Edge gave a small wave, holding the cell tightly to his ear. "Look ... I know ... I know, but you've got to listen to me. ... ... Please just consider it. We all need you here." Edge sighed, pressing a hand into his eyes then raking the blonde fibers out of his sight. "I know. And I can only imagine what this whole thing feels like but ... God damn it, would you just listen to me for one moment?"
Trish sucked her lower lip into her mouth, jittery at the tone from the tall man.
Edge shook his head. "None of that shit matters, ok? You've just got to see past that and realize that there's more here at stake than just you. There're more people hurting here than just you and we all need you here. Whether you're stable or not makes no difference in my book and ... Would you let me finish? Jesus, Matt and Lita both could use you here. Because Jericho, Benoit and I can't look out for them all the time."
Trish closed her eyes at the mention of Jericho's name. Even hearing his name brought her pain, guilt of what she'd done.
"Please," Edge begged. "I'm begging you. Tr ... Don't you fucking say that about her. You don't know anything so don't be passing judgment. ... Jeff, listen to me."
Trish's eyes bolted open and she rushed towards Edge, her gaze hopeful as she reached desperately for the phone.
With a defeated sigh, the tall blonde handed over the cell.
Anxious, Trish licked her lips. Clearing her throat, she brought the cell to her ear. "J ... Jeff?"
There was silence on the other end of the phone. His deep breaths could be heard, steady and rhythmic though he spoke no words.
"Jeff? Please ... are ... are you still there?"
"What did you do to Edge?"
The harsh abrasiveness of his voice scratched at her heart and Trish had to swallow her tears. "I didn't do anything. He's right here. He ... He gave me the phone. Christian and Tyson aren't here tonight. I ... I'm all alone and Edge ..."
"What?" Jeff snarled. "You decided to see if you could offer your services to him? Well, I think you'll be surprised, Trish, when he throws you out on your whorish ass."
"Stop it!" Trish pleaded into the phone. "Stop it, don't say such things."
"Why? Because they're true? Because you can't bear hearing the truth?"
"No."
"Don't toy with me," Jeff said, his voice laden with intensity and betrayal. "Haven't you done enough toying with men's hearts? Or do you need another for your conquests?"
"No, please ..."
"Do my words bother you, Trish? What if I were to call you a selfish two- bit whore who never deserved Chris or his affection? What if I tell you that you never deserved the love that Lita and I willing gave to you as our friend?"
"Jeff ..."
"I defended you!" He cried, the receiver crackling with his volume. "I defended you throughout your career. Lita and I were there for you every step of the way. Anything you needed, you only had to ask and it was there. You were family to us. And what you did to her ... that's not cool, Trish. We are not cool now. Not anymore."
"Jeff, please. I ... Let me explain."
"Explain what? Explain how you made sure that Chris was madly in love with you and then toss him to the side like an unwanted hunk of meat? How you rubbed it in Chris's face about your relationship ... the names you called him? Or maybe, you'd like to explain your actions with Lita. Was that a joke to you, Trish? Was Chris a joke?!"
"No, it's not like that." Trish whimpered, her eyes closed to force the tears back.
"I don't want to hear any explanation you'd give." Jeff said, coolly. "Tell Edge that I'll think about what he said. Goodbye, Trish."
The tears pricked from her eyes as the dial tone screamed obnoxiously in her ear, his words ringing hauntingly.
"Sweetie," Stacy cooed, stepping up to the other woman and enveloping her in her arms. "Shhh. There, there."
Trish shook her head, letting her hand drop from her ear as she fisted the cell phone in her hand.
"Here, Honey." Edge said, softly, taking the cell phone from her hand and clicking it shut. "It'll be ok."
But Trish only shook her head again, pushing back from Stacy and wiping the tears furiously from her eyes. "I ... I need you to ... to do something for me."
"Anything," Stacy whispered and Edge stood behind her, his hand protectively on the leggy woman's waist. Her smile was warm and comforting, friendly. "Name it."
"I need ... I need you to check on Chris for me."
Confused, Stacy cocked her head. "Chris? Whatever for?"
Trish swallowed her nerves and the lump in her throat. "He ... he landed awkward on the way over the ropes and ... his ... his knee hit those stairs and he was clutching it and it was his bad knee and I just have to know if he's ok. I ... I have to."
"Why don't you go talk to him?" Edge suggested.
Trish's eyes widened. "What? No ... no, I couldn't do that."
"Why not?" Edge shrugged, looking at Stacy a moment before his eyes locked on Trish again. "There's nothing to lose."
"I can't." Trish said, quickly, her words tumbling over the last. "I can't. I just can't. Because I could never go in there and I don't know what to do and I ..."
"Trish," Stacy interrupted, placing a comforting hand on the other woman's shoulder. "It's ok. I'll go talk to him. You can even stand outside the door and listen for yourself so you can make sure he's ok."
Trish nodded, her eyes on the ground. "Thank you."
Stacy grabbed her friend's hand, leading her from the locker room and down the hall. Trish followed wordless as they weaved down the dark corridors of the arena. One way then the next, eventually they came upon Chris's room. Stacy stopped, a moment, controlling herself before walking right in.
Trish's eyes flew open as the door swung shut.
"Chris fucking Jericho, what in the holy hell do you think you're doing flying over the top rope like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack? I nearly pulled Nidia's arm right out of the damn socket."
Trish moved quickly, leaning against the door to listen.
Chris laughed. "Jeez, Stace. You don't talk to me for weeks and all of a sudden you're worried?"
"Of course I'm worried, you imbecile. I never stopped caring even though I was scared to death of you."
"Yeeeeah. About that. Look Stace. I ... I am so sorry about that. I just let things spiral out of control and ..."
"Don't worry about it. All is forgiven on my end."
"And on Edge's?"
Stacy's voice tinged with her smile. "Well, he'll take a little longer but I'm sure I can convince him."
"That sounds good. I'll work my ass off to do that. Lord knows, I don't need anymore enemies."
"You and me both." There was a long pause. "How's your knee?"
"Good God, woman, don't touch it!" Chris hollered. "Jesus, what are you trying to kill me? Do you know what you're doing? Hey ... wait, Stace. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just ... I'm a little antsy that's all."
"I wasn't walking away from you, idiot. I was grabbing another icepack. And to answer your question ... No, I don't know what I'm doing. But in my book, if it's swollen ... ice it."
"Sounds like a plan ... you know ... with the exception of ... certain ... parts."
Stacy giggled. "So dirty, Chris. So ... how you holding up?"
Chris hissed. "Ah ... God, that fucking stings."
Trish resisted every urge to rush through that door and check on him. Her heart beat wildly with her racing nerves and her mouth ran dry.
"What stings?"
"The stairs. They broke skin on my knee. Here ... help me pull this tight leg up a bit so ... ... yeah, there we go."
"Mother of God," Stacy sighed, frustrated. "You fucking men and your injuries. If it isn't the head it's the knee or the neck or the elbow."
"Don't forget groin. That is a very important part of the body."
Trish wiped her hands on her pants. Blood? There was blood? How bad was it? Where? How badly did it hurt? Was his head ok? How did his eyes look? Was he worn and tired or was his hair tangled from the match? Was he slightly glistening with sweat or was he fairly dry?
"Anyway!" Stacy giggled. "Back to my question. How are you?"
"Stace ... look in my eyes." There was a moment of silence. "How do you think I am?"
"I'm sorry, Chris." Stacy breathed. "Anything keeping your mind at ease?"
"Oh God," Chris laughed. "Funny story ... are you ready for this? So there was this girl ..."
Trish pulled away from the door, quickly walking down the hall. She didn't want to hear about that. She didn't want to hear anything about any girl or anything they did. The thought of Chris sleeping with Lita still churned the raging passionate jealousy within her and she found it hard to restrain those emotions.
In a way, that jealousy accounted for her actions with Lita. She knew it was mean and cruel but she couldn't help it. Lita slept with her man. Granted, he wasn't completely hers ... well, in that not at all kind of way. But that was irrelevant. The point was that Lita still slept with Chris.
And Trish couldn't bring herself to feel bad about the way she'd been teasing Lita. First, Chris. And now she's back to Matt? Well, that's her loss. If Lita wanted to return to that two time lying son of a bitch, then she could. Trish didn't care.
She shook her head. That was a lie. Trish cared, probably too much.
"There's that sexy lady."
Trish gasped, turning quickly at the voice and her eyes widened. "D ... Drew?"
Test smiled, sinisterly. "You should remember my name. I made you scream it more than once." He inched closer.
"You stay away from me." Trish commanded in a shaky voice, pinning herself against the wall.
Test chuckled. "Ah, I have you trained so well. You just put yourself right where I want you."
She swallowed hard, desperately searching the hallway for someone ... anyone. "Someone!" she called. "Help me, please!"
"No one is gonna hear you, much less come to your aid." Test answered with a sneer and he moved closer to her, one large hand reaching out to grab her wrist. "Don't you remember, Trish? You're the town whore now."
Trish squirmed. "No ... don't."
"Aww, already moving." Test stepped closer, flush against her. "Are you already wet for me too?"
Trish's heart raced, her breathing fast and she did the only thing she could think of. He was too close for her to move, she had to get free. Turning her head, she bit down on his hand, hard. She could taste the coppery tinge of blood in her mouth and she released him.
But Test didn't let her go. Instead, his hand wrapped around her neck and he squeezed. "That wasn't very nice, whore." He tilted his head. "I was considering being gentle with you, since you are a loose whore and all."
Trish viciously shook her head, squirming under his hold, gasping for much needed air. "No," she whimpered. "Please ... please don't."
"Now, I asked you a question. I asked you if you ... were wet for me." Those words said, his one hand stayed place on her throat, the other attacking her jeans and quickly unfastening them, shoving them down her legs. "There's my pretty little whore. That's what you're used to. Your pants around your ankles and me ... right here between your legs."
"No, no no." Trish cried, her tears streaming as her eyes glazed over flashing with the present and images of the past. "God, help me. Please, God. Oh God, please."
His thick clumsy fingers toying with the top of her panties, he snickered. "What makes you think that God gives two shits about a cheap whore like you?"
Trish squeezed her eyes shut, the tears free falling and she prepared herself for the trauma. The trauma that she wished to never experience again, to never have forced on her. She prepared herself as she did countless times before in the same situation with this same man.
Her eyes flew open and she gasped for air when his presence was gone and she fell to the floor on her hands and knees, desperate for air. Forcing her gaze up, she needed to know what happened; her eyes must have deceived her.
Chris Jericho grabbed Test by the head, ramming the other man's skull into the opposite cement wall. As Test staggered back, Chris let out a loud roar before slamming a steel chair over the big man's head, denting the chair seat in his violent viciousness.
Trish swallowed hard, watching as Chris dropped the chair to his side. His hair ruffled, his clothes disheveled. He appeared to be unready, as if interrupted and ... could he have heard her and come to her aid?
Chris roughly raked the hair from his eyes, his gaze ablaze and filled with passion as he leaned over the semi-conscious man. Jericho pinched her attacker's cheeks. "Look at me, you son of a bitch." He commanded in an almost possessed voice. "If I ever ... and I mean ... Ever ... catch you forcing anything from her again."
Test gurgled something then smiled. "What?" he murmured. "All she is ... is a good ... cunt fuck ... and you know it."
"Wrong answer." Jericho growled, soccer kicking the man hard in the stomach. Test recoiled at the action, coughing and Chris kicked again, even harder. "Very ... wrong ... answer." Two more abdomen kicks and Jericho pinched Test's cheeks again, forcing the eye contact.
Test moaned, his head wobbling as he stayed conscious ... barely.
"Now, we're going to start this again." Jericho said, intensely angered. "If I ever see you even looking at her in a way that I feel is ... inappropriate ... I'll take your fucking eye out. If I catch you touching her in a way she doesn't want to be touched ... I'll break your fucking hand. If I catch you putting your mouth on her in any way ... I'll rip out your tongue. And if I catch you doing anything else ... I'll break your god damned neck." Chris cocked his head one way then the next. "Did you ever see Pulp Fiction, Drew? You know ... the movie."
Test swallowed hard.
"Well, let me tell you about that movie." Chris explained. "You see ... there's a part in that movie that involves a rape. Do you remember that part?"
Test shook his head.
"Oh," Jericho smiled. "Then let me remind you." Chris dropped to his knee, his face inching towards Test as his voice lowered with rage. "In that scene, there's a man ... raping another man. And that person who's being raped ... he really doesn't want to be raped. He is big ... and angry ... and very ... very insane. Now Bruce Willis ... interrupts this rape ... and that big ... angry ... man is freed. Do you know what happens next?"
Test shook his head again.
"I'll tell you." Chris continued. "You see that big ... angry ... man is not too happy with the fact that he was raped. So as he and Bruce Willis are eyeing the rapist ... The angry ... insane man ... takes a shotgun ... and blasts off that rapists balls, cocks, groin ... that whole region." He inhaled, sadistically. "Ah, it was a beautiful moment. Do you know what this has to do with you?"
Test shook his head.
"You see ... what you do to her ... you do to me." Chris said slowly and carefully. "So if you rape her ... then you rape me. And you know what ... I don't like being raped. I figure from this confrontation ... you can probably tell that I'm very ... very angry ... and quite insane. Do I make myself ... perfectly ... clear?"
Test gave a quick nod, swallowing his fears.
"Good," Jericho snarled, straightening up and letting his eyes fall on his one time love.
Trish couldn't keep the tears from her eyes or the shakes from her body. Her arms wrapped around her knees, hugging her legs to her chest. Test coughed, curling into his side and Chris kept his eyes focused on her little body.
He cocked his head, his eyes locked on hers. Flaring with rage, passion and anger that he kept controlled, he watched her rock back and forth, gathering herself. He didn't move, didn't speak, simply gave her the time she needed.
Swallowing hard, Trish held his eyes, unable to stand or even find the strength to move from her position yet. Her eyes open books; she couldn't look away.
In that moment, Chris could see something, some type of understanding. He knew there was nothing left for him here, that he had to walk away and resist those urges to step over her fallen attacker, wrap her in his arms and coo in her ear until everything was alright. He had to resist that urge, the yearning desire to protect her and comfort her in that way. She was not his to comfort in that way anymore. And despite the moment, the very moment that lingered forever between their eyes, Chris still knew he'd lost her. He knew that next week, the antic would continue and she'd be at Christian's side as if nothing had happened.
He knew that again after he'd saved her from her nightmares, she'd run to the arms of another man for solace and comfort. She'd run away from him, away from the love he offered and the protection he willingly gave eternally to her. He didn't know what to expect, what she would do or how she'd react after this moment.
One thing he knew and that was the rising dread in his stomach. The dread of knowing that this precious moment brought on by fear, loathing and trauma would end just as the last did. She would forget and deny his love to run into the arms of another man. Chris felt his heart shattering again, he felt the same knowing pains, the realization that she truly was never his and most likely never would be.
The pain and rejection with Stephanie paled to the despair this single moment caved upon his heart. It was Wrestlemania all over again. Only this time, Chris knew what he was doing. Closing his eyes, he turned his back, walking away from the woman he loved.
The tears pricked from his eyes with each passing step, every inch he journeyed from her ripped the warmth and hope from his body.
He glanced back over his shoulder as Trish stumbled to her feet, her eyes on her fallen attacker. She quickly righted her pants, wiping the tears from her eyes before charging down the opposite end of the arena. In that instant, Chris felt the life drain from his body. The coming weeks would truly be a death sentence. He prayed for death. At least, it would alleviate his unbearable pain. All he could do was hope that something was righted next week. And maybe, just maybe he could hold his precious Trish again.
(Nice long one. I'm thinking of continuing ... I mean, I could and there's still so much left to do. Review, let me know what you all think.)