Title: Endless Love
Author: Crimson Coin
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.
July 12, 2004
Tyson Tomko gritted his teeth, his shoulders tensed as he growled his frustration. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."
"Easy," Trish calmed, placing a small hand on the big man's arm. "Easy, just relax. It's all ok."
"No, it's not." He countered. "That little punk and his bitch coulda hurt you tonight. Pulling you off the ring apron like that. I told you I didn't want you out there with me."
"And what were you going to do, huh?" she teased with a smile. "Force me to stay back? You know that wouldn't have worked."
He smiled a response. "You're probably right. But still. I don't want to see you hurt. Again."
Trish jumped, her eyes flying to the door at a loud pound. Her head cocked as the door slammed again and she grabbed Tyson's hand.
The big man's guard immediately rose and he stepped in front of Trish, reaching for the door handle and turning it.
Kane roared, grabbing Chris Jericho by the throat and lifting the man into the air. Chris struggled though his efforts did little to stop his bigger opponent. A sinister smile spread across Kane's snarling lips. "How's this for a real man ... Chris?" With no resistance, Kane threw Chris across the concrete floor.
Chris's limp body hit with a thud and he rolled clumsily a few feet before curling into himself. A violent cough shook his body and a panged groan slipped from his lips. Kane stepped closer, laughing maniacally.
"No!" Trish cried and she threw herself at Jericho's side. Her eyes wide with fear she shook her head at Kane. Her good hand raised, she signaled for the big man to stay back while her cast rest protectively on Chris's body. "Please, Kane."
Kane paused, cocking his head to eye this woman. Tyson did not hesitate to stand in front of Trish, toe to toe with the Big Red Machine. Tyson's teeth clenched as he prepared to fight. But Kane only laughed, raising his hands defensively as he stepped back and walked down the hall.
Tyson expelled a breath he didn't realize he was holding then turned his eyes on the woman at his feet. Trish leaned over Jericho, looking in his face as she brushed his hair behind his ears.
Trish licked her lips, twisting to look up at the man who always protected her. "Help me, Tyson." She pleaded, positioning herself at Jericho's head, slipping both her hands under his shoulders; Chris appeared unconscious.
Tyson didn't respond at first but merely looked at her, curiosity and confusion in his eyes.
"Please," she begged, a slight shake in her voice. "Please, help me."
Without another question, Tyson knelt down, lifting Chris into his arms. He followed her wordlessly as she opened the locker room door and he obeyed her command to place him on the couch. As Trish scuttled to the sink, Tyson propped Jericho's head up, making sure that his limbs weren't twisted and that hopefully, he was comfortable. Tyson stepped back as Trish pushed past him and he watched coldly as the woman knelt at Jericho's side.
Trish gently touched his cheek, her eyes scanning his body. "Chris?" She pushed some stray fibers from his face and away from a shallow cut on his forehead. With greatest care, she cupped the back of his neck. "Tyson? Tyson, can you just ... just hold his head up a minute?"
He obeyed.
Pulling the tie from her hair, Trish raked her fingers through Jericho's hair. Straightening and combing, she gently pulled the tangles from his ruffled mane then gathered it into a ponytail and tied it.
Tyson spoke no words, but lay Jericho's head back onto the arm of the couch and he stepped back.
"Chris?" Trish called again, picking up the cool face cloth she'd just moistened. Patting his face, she wiped the sweat from his brow, cheeks, lips and the blood from his forehead and nose. "Come on," she coaxed, gently. "Open your eyes."
She redipped the cloth but this time didn't wring it out. The cold liquid dripped freely as she wiped his chest then back to his face; Chris stirred.
Her eyes brightened and she wet the cloth again, this time, wiping under his eyes then back through his hair.
A pained moan slipped from his lips and his hand reached for the back of his neck. "Son of a ..." he muttered then shifted his weight.
"Chris?"
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he inhaled deeply and he forced his eyes open. The angered glare of Tyson Tomko met him first and Chris swallowed hard, immediately fidgeting. He had to stand. He had to defend himself. But a soft female hand pressed into his chest, stilling his actions.
"Don't move."
His brow furrowed at the voice and he gasped when he saw her. Frightened at first, he sank further into the couch, unsure of exactly her intentions.
"Are you alright?" she asked, softly. "Kane nearly killed you out there. If I hadn't ... if Tyson hadn't stopped him, he wouldn't have left you alone."
Confused, Chris pushed himself further up in the couch, trying to sit.
"Don't," she commanded in a gently voice. "Don't get up too fast."
He stilled then, his eyes darting from Trish to Tomko before eventually settling back on the woman. "Tomko stopped Kane?"
Tyson laughed. "I was willing to let Kane beat the shit outta you." Then his manner toughened, defensive as his eyes narrowed. "But when Kane tossed you to the ground, she threw herself between you and him. And I wasn't bound to let anything happen to her. Even if it was because she was defending an asshole like you."
"You did that?" Chris asked, turning his full attention on Trish.
Trish didn't respond but kept her head bowed, and she fiddled with some cloth bandages. Clearing her throat, she licked her lips then lifted the bandage. "Lay back. I'm just gonna patch you up."
He watched her carefully, obeying her. She reached out, placing a sterile piece of gauze on his cut. The cloth tape screeched and she used her teeth to rip off one piece then another. Being careful not to catch any loose strands of hair, she taped the gauze to his head. Tilting his head slightly, he made sure to catch her eyes. "Thank you."
She didn't acknowledge him and stood, turning towards Tyson.
"Trish?"
"Shh," she commanded, silencing Chris with a finger. "Tyson? Someone's coming." She hustled quick, moving around the other side of the couch. Tyson grabbed the arm of the couch and with a grunt, he lifted one side. His teeth clenched with his strain, but Tyson moved quickly, swinging the couch around so that its back faced the door, and anyone who entered couldn't see Chris lying on the cushions.
The door swung open. "Where's my girl?"
Chris clenched his teeth at the voice he recognized as Randy Orton and he suppressed a growl when he heard what could only be a kiss.
"Hi, Sweetie." Trish cooed. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to come by." Randy said with some concern. "When that bitch pulled you off the apron, it looked like you almost hit your wrist. Are you ok? Does it hurt?"
"I'm fine." Trish answered, watching as he cupped her cast in his hands, turning it carefully to examine it. "I'm always a little sore and now it's kinda stiff."
"That's it getting better." Randy said then smiled at her. He turned his nose to the air, sniffing a few times.
"What?" Trish asked, looking at herself. "Do I stink?"
"No, he answered with a laugh. "I smell ... like men's cologne or something."
Tyson stood at Chris's side, his arms crossed over his chest. "Well, I am a man."
Randy smiled. "I know you are. It's just that you don't usually where cologne or scented deodorants or anything. At least I never smelled it on you."
Tyson met Trish's worried frightened eyes for a moment. With a smile, he gave a soft chuckle. "And what? I can't try to attract women now?"
"Don't get all defensive." Randy laughed. "I'm just saying that's all."
Chris furrowed his brow. That scent was him. He always wore cologne and Tyson covered for him. Tyson Tomko lied ... to protect him. Tyson glanced down quickly, meeting Chris's eyes with a silencing warning glance then his demeanor lightened, looking back across the room.
"So ..." Randy teased. "Come back to my locker room. We'll hang out there. Hunter's got a big surprise for Eugene tonight that I got to stick around for. But we can leave right after that."
"Sounds good." Trish answered. "Just let me get my bag."
She walked over to Tyson, giving the big man a hug and whispered something in his ear. Chris didn't know what she said, but Tyson gave a slow nod and she smiled at him. Lifting her bag with her good hand, Trish shouldered it. Turning, she locked eyes with Jericho for a mere moment and then walked towards Randy.
Chris didn't move or respond, even when he heard the door close behind them. Tyson stood unmoving, unwavering as if standing guard. A long minute passed and eventually Tyson sighed, looking down at the blonde man. "They're probably in his locker room now. You can leave."
Chris sat up slowly, touching the bandage on his head before staring at the floor a few moments. With a sigh, he stood and cocked his head, eying the bigger man. "You could kick my ass right now."
"That I could." Tyson answered, not meeting his gaze. "But she wouldn't like that." He turned away, walking to his locker and packing his bag.
"And that's stopping you."
"Of course it is." Tyson answered coolly. Straightening, he sighed, turning to face Chris. "Look. I don't like you. I never will. You hit her. I hate you. End of story."
Chris bowed his head, shamed by the big man's gruff response. "Does she still hate me?"
"Obviously not." Tyson said, his voice laced in sarcasm. "She threw herself on your unconscious corpse to keep Kane from touching you again."
Chris winced, feeling the cold hatred flood through his body. He sighed sadly, shaking his head as he looked at the other man. Their eyes locking for only a few moments before Tyson quickly looked away. Understanding filled Chris. "You love her, don't you."
"Irrelevant."
"You do." Chris said. "I see it in your eyes. You do."
"It doesn't matter whether I do or not." Tyson answered with depression in his voice as he met Chris's eyes. He offered a sad smile. "She's not mine to love."
Chris felt a panged realization at those words.
Lita sat on the bench in the women's locker room, a cell phone in hand. Tears in her eyes, her body trembling, her heart aching, she couldn't bring herself to call. She didn't know how long she sat, staring at his number, her thumb hovering over the 'send' button. All she knew is that when everything went wrong, whenever she was sad, he was the only person she could talk to. He was the only person she could think of that could help her. She didn't want to call him, after all this time, but she needed to. She had to. She missed him.
Her mind made up, she clicked that button and raised the cell to her ear.
RING
Her leg bounced, jittery with her nerves and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on it lightly.
RING
"Come on. Come on, pick up." She said to herself and she swallowed hard.
RING
Nerves tightened and a few beads of sweat pricked at her brow.
RING
She wiped her mouth with her hand then raked her fingers through her hair. A click resounded over the phone.
'Hey. You've reached me. Can't get to the phone now so just leave one. You know what to do'
BEEP
Lita licked her lips, more than nervous. "Jeff? It's ... it's me. I ... I know you're there. Pick up. Please, please pick up." She paused, waiting. There was no answer. "I know you're there and I know that I've been ignoring you and I don't mean to, I really don't."
Still no answer.
She cleared her throat. "I miss you, Jeff. I really do. And I miss the times we had and how we would talk and ... I ... I just miss you. And I don't want you to go to TNA and I want you here. Here with me. And with Matt. And with everyone." She sighed. "I do love you, Jeff. Please ... call me."
Slowly lowering the phone, Lita pressed the end button, her eyes fixed on the flashing time. The 1:16 her phone call had lasted.
RING
Jeff Hardy lazily glanced to his left at the obnoxiously ringing telephone.
RING
He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He took another long drag of the blunt between his fingers, holding it as long as he could before exhaling.
RING
Why couldn't people get the message? He didn't want to be bothered.
RING
To hell with them. The machine would pick it up.
'Hey. You've reached me. Can't get to the phone now so just leave one. You know what to do'
BEEP
"Jeff? It's ... it's me. I ... I know you're there. Pick up. Please, please pick up." She paused, waiting. There was no answer. "I know you're there and I know that I've been ignoring you and I don't mean to, I really don't."
His eyes narrowed as he recognized her voice, Lita's voice. What the hell was she trying to pull? She didn't care. She wasn't sorry.
"I miss you, Jeff. I really do. And I miss the times we had and how we would talk and ... I ... I just miss you. And I don't want you to go to TNA and I want you here. Here with me. And with Matt. And with everyone." She sighed. "I do love you, Jeff. Please ... call me."
"Love me!" He hollered at the answering machine. "Love Me!" He laughed, almost psychotic as his voice rang hauntingly through his bedroom. "You never loved me." He swiped his hand across the bed stand, knocking everything onto the floor, the phone off the hook and the telephone cord from the wall.
He fell back onto the bed, his eyes bloodshot and ragged, the blunt still smoking between his fingers.
He inhaled deeply, peaking around the large trunk of a tree. Gently, he placed his hands on the rough bark, leaning a little further to keep his balance. He curled his toes into the cool grass, the cold moisture-covered strands hugging his bare feet and tickling up around his ankles.
The air swirled crisp and clean, prickling at his bare chest, causing the hairs to stand on end. Though if it were the cool night air of the sight of her, he was unsure.
She stood at the edge of a shimmering pool, that same cool grass surrounding its edges. Lily pads scattered randomly along the shore, a few blossoms budding towards the night sky. Ancient trees stood proud and wise, their existence a testament to the age of this place. The night sky shimmered with beauteous stars, the moon this glen's only source of light.
She stretched into the air, her hands flipping back her golden hair and the moonlight hugged every part of her body, embracing her into nature's most wonderful creation. Her skin glistened with tiny driblets of water; she'd just immerged from the water. Standing nude in the moonlight, she truly was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.
He ducked back behind the tree. She was so beautiful he was unworthy of even watching her. Scratching his chest, the muscles jumped and quivered. Gathering himself, he peaked around the tree again.
She lay on the grass, her back arched and head tilted back, absorbing the naturalness around her. A nymph, a most beautiful elf, she appeared so perfect, not a single flaw.
He licked his lips, his eyes widening with pleasure as he watched her dress. Modest black sheer undergarments accentuated every curve. A silver sheer silken robe hung off her shoulders and brushed along the ground. A simple knot tied at the waist kept everything closed; she was exquisite.
Her chocolate brown eyes searched the heavens for but a moment and then looked towards him. A modest yet knowing smile spread onto her face. "Do you plan to only watch me all evening?"
His eyes widened and he let out a gasp.
"I know you're there." She said.
Sighing, he stepped out from behind the tree, his head bowed like a scolded dog. "I'm sorry I was snooping. But I saw you and just couldn't help myself."
Her smile softened. "Come here." She beckoned.
He couldn't resist. Walking slowly, he approached her. He wiped his hands on his jeans, then raked his fingers nervously through his hair. "I didn't mean to upset you." He whispered.
"You didn't upset me." She answered sweetly, tilting his chin up to place a soft kiss on his mouth. "Not at all. On the contrary, I'm quite flattered."
"You're a beautiful woman." He responded, his eyes fluttering as she brushed her fingers along his cheek. "And I'm only a man."
Her smile managed to sweeten and she trailed her hands down his chest, resting on his abs. "What are you doing here, awake at this hour?"
"I should ask you the same thing."
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "I couldn't sleep. I felt like a midnight swim."
"I couldn't sleep either." He chuckled then and his eyes flashed with mischief. "So I watched you have a midnight swim."
She chuckled in response, an amused smile on her face. "Well, was it worth it?"
"You have no idea."
She gave a hearty laugh then stepped back from him. "I take it that's a good thing." She teased then sat on the babbling pool's edge, letting her feet dangle into the cool water. "It's very nice you know. Why don't you take a dip?"
He smiled, unable to resist. Modest and shy, he slowly unbuttoned his pants, pushing them to the ground and stepping out of them. "Don't look." He teased and she closed her eyes to pacify him.
"I'm not looking." She said, swaying her feet in the water.
"I know." He said, sputtering the water from his lips as he surfaced at her feet.
She giggled, looking lovingly down on him as he swam to her legs, resting his wet arms on her thighs. "You're going to get me all wet."
"I like you that way." He answered, placing a soft kiss to her thigh.
She shook her head, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "I can't believe you just said that."
"I mean in this." He clarified, holding up the thin fabric of her robe. "When this is wet it just clings to you and makes you all the more sexy."
"Isn't it nice in there." She said, moving the direction of the conversation forward then looked up at the treetops and into the night sky. "It's just so beautiful here."
He lifted himself out of the pool with ease and stood, wringing the water from his hair. "That it is."
She patted the ground at her back. "Come. Sit behind me."
"But I'm all wet." He said with a chuckle.
Her eyes met his mischievously. "I like you that way."
He only shook his head, doing as she asked and sitting behind her. "Like this?"
"You're not close enough." She answered, snuggling further back into his chest, making sure his legs were to either side of her. She grabbed his wrists then, tightening his arms around herself and she sighed, pleasurably. "Just like this. This is nice."
"You know this might not be a good idea."
"Why's that?" she asked, seductively.
"Because of what you're wearing and what I'm wearing and exactly what you do to me."
She smiled, sighing and leaning back into him, her head tilted back onto her shoulder so she could look at the stars. "Oh Chris, it's just so breathtaking here. I never want to leave."
"There's stars everywhere, Sweetheart." He whispered into her ear.
"Not like this." She breathed. "Not like tonight. It's just ... It's so beautiful. The sounds, the crickets and the water and just the sound of night. And that smell. That fresh natural smell and the chill. I love it here. It's like our own private hideaway."
He tightened his arms, pulling her more tightly into his body and nuzzled up to her ear, brushing his lips along the shell.
She hummed her approval. "The chill that nips at the skin but here ... in your arms ... there's only warmth. And look at the trees and the grass and the moon and the stars. I've never seen anything more beautiful."
"I have," he cooed gently. His tongue peaked out, swirling around her ear before his lips sealed a long sweet kiss. His arms tightened and his hands slipped under her silken robe. His rough calloused palms caressed the smooth taut skin of her abdomen, loving in his treatment of her body.
"Chris," she sighed, collapsing into him as she reached up, cupping the back of his neck.
He mumbled a series of inaudible words then continued with his task, kissing at every part of her ear before working down her neck, attaching his mouth to the perfect spot of her throat.
Her fingers raked through his hair, gripping the back of his head so he couldn't move and her body shuddered against him.
Nibbling, nipping, sucking and licking, he worked the spot on her neck until a muted moan slipped past her lips. "Trish," he breathed, kissing her ear softly again. "Complete my perfection."
Her head bowed as his hands moved and she cocked her head, strangely as she stared at his fingers and what he was holding. She gasped.
The ring shimmered with water droplets, the diamond sparkling in the moonlight. He held the thin gold band between his thick fingers, presenting her with greatest hope.
With a shaky hand, she took the ring from him, staring at it in disbelief. She still gave him no answer, but sat awed at his gift.
"Be my wife." He whispered. "Be mine forever."
Fresh tears fell from her eyes and still, she didn't respond.
He gently grabbed her left wrist, his other hand taking the ring. "Here." He offered and with an excruciating pace, he slipped the ring on her finger, giving her more than enough time to stop him, if she wished.
She didn't. She stared at the ring on her finger, how perfectly it fit. She turned in his arms, quickly.
He gave a crooked smile but choked on his words as her lips suddenly found his. Hard and passionately, she kissed him, lifting up for leverage to push him onto his back. He didn't resist her, his arms bound around her body, holding her to him as he returned her kiss with equal need.
She wasted no time, tearing the robe from her body. She broke the kiss to breathe, struggling with her undergarments. He cupped her face, sealing their mouths again as she kicked the final obstacle away then pushed down his boxers. Her toes hooking into the waistband, she helped him get them off then settled fully into him. He growled at the feel of flesh against flesh and she responded by intensifying the kiss. Desperate for him, she took him in her hand, readying him and herself.
"No," he said, pulling back from her and when she moved to complete them, he gripped her hips, stilling her actions.
"Please, Chris." She begged, rocking her hips into him and he had to resist the urge to just slam into her and let her have her way with him. "Please."
But he gathered all his will and shook his head. "No. Not like this. Not this time." He rolled them over, settling his full weight on her smaller body.
She swallowed hard as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Why?" she asked, a tinge of hurt in her voice as she draped her arms over his neck. "You ... you don't want me?"
He licked his lips, catching his breath. Every curve, every inch of her body touched his and he had to keep reminding himself to stay in control. "I want you more than life." He answered, then licked his kiss-swollen lips again. "But we're always like animals. I don't want to be like that anymore."
She felt her stomach lurch against his, her hips instinctively rocking, begging for his fill. "But there's no pleasure any other way."
"That's not true." He answered with a shake of the head. "Have you ever made slow sensual love to a man? Have you ever let a man make slow sensual love to you?"
She nodded.
"Then if you didn't get any pleasure. He wasn't any good." He kissed her so sweetly and softly that she barely felt it, just the slightest touch of his lips to hers. "I'll show you how good it can be. You've never felt pleasure like this before. I'm going to bring you ..." he smiled. "You, my wife, absolute ecstasy. He sealed their lips.
A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, hurling him back and with wide eyes, he watched as he was tossed away from her. He landed on the ground with a grunt. Fear struck his core.
She lay motionless on the ground, helpless and unmoving. A monstrous creature hovered over her. His cloven feet weighed heavy on the ground. Great horns sprung from the beast's head, his eyes burning red and his mouth a snarling grin. Huge and muscular, the beasts arms resembled that of a man, the skin of its torso a molten black, the hair on its legs a chestnut brown.
Chris staggered to his feet, his need to protect his beloved weighing strong. But he couldn't move. Vines crept up his legs, rooting him to the grass and as two vines trailed up his body, each wrapped around his arms, pulling him to all fours on the ground. He was trapped.
The beast laughed, grabbing her with a rough hand and lifted her against its muscled chest. "She'll never be yours."
"No," Chris struggled against his restraints. Why wouldn't she fight? Why wouldn't she resist?
But the beast just shook its head, its eyes dancing with victory. "She was mine a long time ago. And she'll always be mine."
The beast let out a loud roar, lifting the woman into the air before lying her back on the grass. The beast then knelt down on all fours, hovering over her possessively. The beast's head reared back, its hips bucking.
"No," Chris breathed, stunned to nauseated sickness. He watched as the beast continued to heave, an erect penis immerging from its fur covered hips. "No, no no."
The beast laughed, settling completely on top of the woman and its eyes flared with lust and wanting as it looked at Chris. "She'll always be mine. And you can never take her away."
The beast thrust.
"NO!" Chris screamed, bolting upright in his bed, the sweat pouring off his body. His eyes wildly searched the room, looking one way then the next, though what he was looking for, he didn't know.
His breathing eventually slowed, his body stilled and he slumped back onto the bed. Shaking his head, he quickly stood and staggered into the bathroom. Flipping the light, he leaned against the sink, staring haggardly into the mirror.
His eyes were bloodshot, blackened bags circling under his usually vibrant blue eyes. His face was drawn, worn. His hair hanging straggly and tangled from his recent bout with a nightmare.
He blinked a few times, staring into his own eyes. "You fucking loser. You're fucking weak. You're weak and pathetic." He condemned, snarling at his reflection. "Can't get a girl outta your head ... can't get a fucking life. Can't ..."
"Shut Up!" he hollered at himself, shaking his head fiercely to rid his mind of that horrid vision, whatever it was. "Shut up! You don't know!"
Chris bowed his head into his hands, falling to his knees. Tired, sorrowed, and weary, he couldn't even stand.
(That's it for this chapter. Tell me what you think. Can you see my direction yet?)
Author: Crimson Coin
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.
July 12, 2004
Tyson Tomko gritted his teeth, his shoulders tensed as he growled his frustration. "I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch."
"Easy," Trish calmed, placing a small hand on the big man's arm. "Easy, just relax. It's all ok."
"No, it's not." He countered. "That little punk and his bitch coulda hurt you tonight. Pulling you off the ring apron like that. I told you I didn't want you out there with me."
"And what were you going to do, huh?" she teased with a smile. "Force me to stay back? You know that wouldn't have worked."
He smiled a response. "You're probably right. But still. I don't want to see you hurt. Again."
Trish jumped, her eyes flying to the door at a loud pound. Her head cocked as the door slammed again and she grabbed Tyson's hand.
The big man's guard immediately rose and he stepped in front of Trish, reaching for the door handle and turning it.
Kane roared, grabbing Chris Jericho by the throat and lifting the man into the air. Chris struggled though his efforts did little to stop his bigger opponent. A sinister smile spread across Kane's snarling lips. "How's this for a real man ... Chris?" With no resistance, Kane threw Chris across the concrete floor.
Chris's limp body hit with a thud and he rolled clumsily a few feet before curling into himself. A violent cough shook his body and a panged groan slipped from his lips. Kane stepped closer, laughing maniacally.
"No!" Trish cried and she threw herself at Jericho's side. Her eyes wide with fear she shook her head at Kane. Her good hand raised, she signaled for the big man to stay back while her cast rest protectively on Chris's body. "Please, Kane."
Kane paused, cocking his head to eye this woman. Tyson did not hesitate to stand in front of Trish, toe to toe with the Big Red Machine. Tyson's teeth clenched as he prepared to fight. But Kane only laughed, raising his hands defensively as he stepped back and walked down the hall.
Tyson expelled a breath he didn't realize he was holding then turned his eyes on the woman at his feet. Trish leaned over Jericho, looking in his face as she brushed his hair behind his ears.
Trish licked her lips, twisting to look up at the man who always protected her. "Help me, Tyson." She pleaded, positioning herself at Jericho's head, slipping both her hands under his shoulders; Chris appeared unconscious.
Tyson didn't respond at first but merely looked at her, curiosity and confusion in his eyes.
"Please," she begged, a slight shake in her voice. "Please, help me."
Without another question, Tyson knelt down, lifting Chris into his arms. He followed her wordlessly as she opened the locker room door and he obeyed her command to place him on the couch. As Trish scuttled to the sink, Tyson propped Jericho's head up, making sure that his limbs weren't twisted and that hopefully, he was comfortable. Tyson stepped back as Trish pushed past him and he watched coldly as the woman knelt at Jericho's side.
Trish gently touched his cheek, her eyes scanning his body. "Chris?" She pushed some stray fibers from his face and away from a shallow cut on his forehead. With greatest care, she cupped the back of his neck. "Tyson? Tyson, can you just ... just hold his head up a minute?"
He obeyed.
Pulling the tie from her hair, Trish raked her fingers through Jericho's hair. Straightening and combing, she gently pulled the tangles from his ruffled mane then gathered it into a ponytail and tied it.
Tyson spoke no words, but lay Jericho's head back onto the arm of the couch and he stepped back.
"Chris?" Trish called again, picking up the cool face cloth she'd just moistened. Patting his face, she wiped the sweat from his brow, cheeks, lips and the blood from his forehead and nose. "Come on," she coaxed, gently. "Open your eyes."
She redipped the cloth but this time didn't wring it out. The cold liquid dripped freely as she wiped his chest then back to his face; Chris stirred.
Her eyes brightened and she wet the cloth again, this time, wiping under his eyes then back through his hair.
A pained moan slipped from his lips and his hand reached for the back of his neck. "Son of a ..." he muttered then shifted his weight.
"Chris?"
A soft smile tugged at his lips as he inhaled deeply and he forced his eyes open. The angered glare of Tyson Tomko met him first and Chris swallowed hard, immediately fidgeting. He had to stand. He had to defend himself. But a soft female hand pressed into his chest, stilling his actions.
"Don't move."
His brow furrowed at the voice and he gasped when he saw her. Frightened at first, he sank further into the couch, unsure of exactly her intentions.
"Are you alright?" she asked, softly. "Kane nearly killed you out there. If I hadn't ... if Tyson hadn't stopped him, he wouldn't have left you alone."
Confused, Chris pushed himself further up in the couch, trying to sit.
"Don't," she commanded in a gently voice. "Don't get up too fast."
He stilled then, his eyes darting from Trish to Tomko before eventually settling back on the woman. "Tomko stopped Kane?"
Tyson laughed. "I was willing to let Kane beat the shit outta you." Then his manner toughened, defensive as his eyes narrowed. "But when Kane tossed you to the ground, she threw herself between you and him. And I wasn't bound to let anything happen to her. Even if it was because she was defending an asshole like you."
"You did that?" Chris asked, turning his full attention on Trish.
Trish didn't respond but kept her head bowed, and she fiddled with some cloth bandages. Clearing her throat, she licked her lips then lifted the bandage. "Lay back. I'm just gonna patch you up."
He watched her carefully, obeying her. She reached out, placing a sterile piece of gauze on his cut. The cloth tape screeched and she used her teeth to rip off one piece then another. Being careful not to catch any loose strands of hair, she taped the gauze to his head. Tilting his head slightly, he made sure to catch her eyes. "Thank you."
She didn't acknowledge him and stood, turning towards Tyson.
"Trish?"
"Shh," she commanded, silencing Chris with a finger. "Tyson? Someone's coming." She hustled quick, moving around the other side of the couch. Tyson grabbed the arm of the couch and with a grunt, he lifted one side. His teeth clenched with his strain, but Tyson moved quickly, swinging the couch around so that its back faced the door, and anyone who entered couldn't see Chris lying on the cushions.
The door swung open. "Where's my girl?"
Chris clenched his teeth at the voice he recognized as Randy Orton and he suppressed a growl when he heard what could only be a kiss.
"Hi, Sweetie." Trish cooed. "What are you doing here?"
"I had to come by." Randy said with some concern. "When that bitch pulled you off the apron, it looked like you almost hit your wrist. Are you ok? Does it hurt?"
"I'm fine." Trish answered, watching as he cupped her cast in his hands, turning it carefully to examine it. "I'm always a little sore and now it's kinda stiff."
"That's it getting better." Randy said then smiled at her. He turned his nose to the air, sniffing a few times.
"What?" Trish asked, looking at herself. "Do I stink?"
"No, he answered with a laugh. "I smell ... like men's cologne or something."
Tyson stood at Chris's side, his arms crossed over his chest. "Well, I am a man."
Randy smiled. "I know you are. It's just that you don't usually where cologne or scented deodorants or anything. At least I never smelled it on you."
Tyson met Trish's worried frightened eyes for a moment. With a smile, he gave a soft chuckle. "And what? I can't try to attract women now?"
"Don't get all defensive." Randy laughed. "I'm just saying that's all."
Chris furrowed his brow. That scent was him. He always wore cologne and Tyson covered for him. Tyson Tomko lied ... to protect him. Tyson glanced down quickly, meeting Chris's eyes with a silencing warning glance then his demeanor lightened, looking back across the room.
"So ..." Randy teased. "Come back to my locker room. We'll hang out there. Hunter's got a big surprise for Eugene tonight that I got to stick around for. But we can leave right after that."
"Sounds good." Trish answered. "Just let me get my bag."
She walked over to Tyson, giving the big man a hug and whispered something in his ear. Chris didn't know what she said, but Tyson gave a slow nod and she smiled at him. Lifting her bag with her good hand, Trish shouldered it. Turning, she locked eyes with Jericho for a mere moment and then walked towards Randy.
Chris didn't move or respond, even when he heard the door close behind them. Tyson stood unmoving, unwavering as if standing guard. A long minute passed and eventually Tyson sighed, looking down at the blonde man. "They're probably in his locker room now. You can leave."
Chris sat up slowly, touching the bandage on his head before staring at the floor a few moments. With a sigh, he stood and cocked his head, eying the bigger man. "You could kick my ass right now."
"That I could." Tyson answered, not meeting his gaze. "But she wouldn't like that." He turned away, walking to his locker and packing his bag.
"And that's stopping you."
"Of course it is." Tyson answered coolly. Straightening, he sighed, turning to face Chris. "Look. I don't like you. I never will. You hit her. I hate you. End of story."
Chris bowed his head, shamed by the big man's gruff response. "Does she still hate me?"
"Obviously not." Tyson said, his voice laced in sarcasm. "She threw herself on your unconscious corpse to keep Kane from touching you again."
Chris winced, feeling the cold hatred flood through his body. He sighed sadly, shaking his head as he looked at the other man. Their eyes locking for only a few moments before Tyson quickly looked away. Understanding filled Chris. "You love her, don't you."
"Irrelevant."
"You do." Chris said. "I see it in your eyes. You do."
"It doesn't matter whether I do or not." Tyson answered with depression in his voice as he met Chris's eyes. He offered a sad smile. "She's not mine to love."
Chris felt a panged realization at those words.
Lita sat on the bench in the women's locker room, a cell phone in hand. Tears in her eyes, her body trembling, her heart aching, she couldn't bring herself to call. She didn't know how long she sat, staring at his number, her thumb hovering over the 'send' button. All she knew is that when everything went wrong, whenever she was sad, he was the only person she could talk to. He was the only person she could think of that could help her. She didn't want to call him, after all this time, but she needed to. She had to. She missed him.
Her mind made up, she clicked that button and raised the cell to her ear.
RING
Her leg bounced, jittery with her nerves and she sucked her lower lip into her mouth, chewing on it lightly.
RING
"Come on. Come on, pick up." She said to herself and she swallowed hard.
RING
Nerves tightened and a few beads of sweat pricked at her brow.
RING
She wiped her mouth with her hand then raked her fingers through her hair. A click resounded over the phone.
'Hey. You've reached me. Can't get to the phone now so just leave one. You know what to do'
BEEP
Lita licked her lips, more than nervous. "Jeff? It's ... it's me. I ... I know you're there. Pick up. Please, please pick up." She paused, waiting. There was no answer. "I know you're there and I know that I've been ignoring you and I don't mean to, I really don't."
Still no answer.
She cleared her throat. "I miss you, Jeff. I really do. And I miss the times we had and how we would talk and ... I ... I just miss you. And I don't want you to go to TNA and I want you here. Here with me. And with Matt. And with everyone." She sighed. "I do love you, Jeff. Please ... call me."
Slowly lowering the phone, Lita pressed the end button, her eyes fixed on the flashing time. The 1:16 her phone call had lasted.
RING
Jeff Hardy lazily glanced to his left at the obnoxiously ringing telephone.
RING
He wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. He took another long drag of the blunt between his fingers, holding it as long as he could before exhaling.
RING
Why couldn't people get the message? He didn't want to be bothered.
RING
To hell with them. The machine would pick it up.
'Hey. You've reached me. Can't get to the phone now so just leave one. You know what to do'
BEEP
"Jeff? It's ... it's me. I ... I know you're there. Pick up. Please, please pick up." She paused, waiting. There was no answer. "I know you're there and I know that I've been ignoring you and I don't mean to, I really don't."
His eyes narrowed as he recognized her voice, Lita's voice. What the hell was she trying to pull? She didn't care. She wasn't sorry.
"I miss you, Jeff. I really do. And I miss the times we had and how we would talk and ... I ... I just miss you. And I don't want you to go to TNA and I want you here. Here with me. And with Matt. And with everyone." She sighed. "I do love you, Jeff. Please ... call me."
"Love me!" He hollered at the answering machine. "Love Me!" He laughed, almost psychotic as his voice rang hauntingly through his bedroom. "You never loved me." He swiped his hand across the bed stand, knocking everything onto the floor, the phone off the hook and the telephone cord from the wall.
He fell back onto the bed, his eyes bloodshot and ragged, the blunt still smoking between his fingers.
He inhaled deeply, peaking around the large trunk of a tree. Gently, he placed his hands on the rough bark, leaning a little further to keep his balance. He curled his toes into the cool grass, the cold moisture-covered strands hugging his bare feet and tickling up around his ankles.
The air swirled crisp and clean, prickling at his bare chest, causing the hairs to stand on end. Though if it were the cool night air of the sight of her, he was unsure.
She stood at the edge of a shimmering pool, that same cool grass surrounding its edges. Lily pads scattered randomly along the shore, a few blossoms budding towards the night sky. Ancient trees stood proud and wise, their existence a testament to the age of this place. The night sky shimmered with beauteous stars, the moon this glen's only source of light.
She stretched into the air, her hands flipping back her golden hair and the moonlight hugged every part of her body, embracing her into nature's most wonderful creation. Her skin glistened with tiny driblets of water; she'd just immerged from the water. Standing nude in the moonlight, she truly was the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen.
He ducked back behind the tree. She was so beautiful he was unworthy of even watching her. Scratching his chest, the muscles jumped and quivered. Gathering himself, he peaked around the tree again.
She lay on the grass, her back arched and head tilted back, absorbing the naturalness around her. A nymph, a most beautiful elf, she appeared so perfect, not a single flaw.
He licked his lips, his eyes widening with pleasure as he watched her dress. Modest black sheer undergarments accentuated every curve. A silver sheer silken robe hung off her shoulders and brushed along the ground. A simple knot tied at the waist kept everything closed; she was exquisite.
Her chocolate brown eyes searched the heavens for but a moment and then looked towards him. A modest yet knowing smile spread onto her face. "Do you plan to only watch me all evening?"
His eyes widened and he let out a gasp.
"I know you're there." She said.
Sighing, he stepped out from behind the tree, his head bowed like a scolded dog. "I'm sorry I was snooping. But I saw you and just couldn't help myself."
Her smile softened. "Come here." She beckoned.
He couldn't resist. Walking slowly, he approached her. He wiped his hands on his jeans, then raked his fingers nervously through his hair. "I didn't mean to upset you." He whispered.
"You didn't upset me." She answered sweetly, tilting his chin up to place a soft kiss on his mouth. "Not at all. On the contrary, I'm quite flattered."
"You're a beautiful woman." He responded, his eyes fluttering as she brushed her fingers along his cheek. "And I'm only a man."
Her smile managed to sweeten and she trailed her hands down his chest, resting on his abs. "What are you doing here, awake at this hour?"
"I should ask you the same thing."
She shrugged, nonchalantly. "I couldn't sleep. I felt like a midnight swim."
"I couldn't sleep either." He chuckled then and his eyes flashed with mischief. "So I watched you have a midnight swim."
She chuckled in response, an amused smile on her face. "Well, was it worth it?"
"You have no idea."
She gave a hearty laugh then stepped back from him. "I take it that's a good thing." She teased then sat on the babbling pool's edge, letting her feet dangle into the cool water. "It's very nice you know. Why don't you take a dip?"
He smiled, unable to resist. Modest and shy, he slowly unbuttoned his pants, pushing them to the ground and stepping out of them. "Don't look." He teased and she closed her eyes to pacify him.
"I'm not looking." She said, swaying her feet in the water.
"I know." He said, sputtering the water from his lips as he surfaced at her feet.
She giggled, looking lovingly down on him as he swam to her legs, resting his wet arms on her thighs. "You're going to get me all wet."
"I like you that way." He answered, placing a soft kiss to her thigh.
She shook her head, her smile stretching from ear to ear. "I can't believe you just said that."
"I mean in this." He clarified, holding up the thin fabric of her robe. "When this is wet it just clings to you and makes you all the more sexy."
"Isn't it nice in there." She said, moving the direction of the conversation forward then looked up at the treetops and into the night sky. "It's just so beautiful here."
He lifted himself out of the pool with ease and stood, wringing the water from his hair. "That it is."
She patted the ground at her back. "Come. Sit behind me."
"But I'm all wet." He said with a chuckle.
Her eyes met his mischievously. "I like you that way."
He only shook his head, doing as she asked and sitting behind her. "Like this?"
"You're not close enough." She answered, snuggling further back into his chest, making sure his legs were to either side of her. She grabbed his wrists then, tightening his arms around herself and she sighed, pleasurably. "Just like this. This is nice."
"You know this might not be a good idea."
"Why's that?" she asked, seductively.
"Because of what you're wearing and what I'm wearing and exactly what you do to me."
She smiled, sighing and leaning back into him, her head tilted back onto her shoulder so she could look at the stars. "Oh Chris, it's just so breathtaking here. I never want to leave."
"There's stars everywhere, Sweetheart." He whispered into her ear.
"Not like this." She breathed. "Not like tonight. It's just ... It's so beautiful. The sounds, the crickets and the water and just the sound of night. And that smell. That fresh natural smell and the chill. I love it here. It's like our own private hideaway."
He tightened his arms, pulling her more tightly into his body and nuzzled up to her ear, brushing his lips along the shell.
She hummed her approval. "The chill that nips at the skin but here ... in your arms ... there's only warmth. And look at the trees and the grass and the moon and the stars. I've never seen anything more beautiful."
"I have," he cooed gently. His tongue peaked out, swirling around her ear before his lips sealed a long sweet kiss. His arms tightened and his hands slipped under her silken robe. His rough calloused palms caressed the smooth taut skin of her abdomen, loving in his treatment of her body.
"Chris," she sighed, collapsing into him as she reached up, cupping the back of his neck.
He mumbled a series of inaudible words then continued with his task, kissing at every part of her ear before working down her neck, attaching his mouth to the perfect spot of her throat.
Her fingers raked through his hair, gripping the back of his head so he couldn't move and her body shuddered against him.
Nibbling, nipping, sucking and licking, he worked the spot on her neck until a muted moan slipped past her lips. "Trish," he breathed, kissing her ear softly again. "Complete my perfection."
Her head bowed as his hands moved and she cocked her head, strangely as she stared at his fingers and what he was holding. She gasped.
The ring shimmered with water droplets, the diamond sparkling in the moonlight. He held the thin gold band between his thick fingers, presenting her with greatest hope.
With a shaky hand, she took the ring from him, staring at it in disbelief. She still gave him no answer, but sat awed at his gift.
"Be my wife." He whispered. "Be mine forever."
Fresh tears fell from her eyes and still, she didn't respond.
He gently grabbed her left wrist, his other hand taking the ring. "Here." He offered and with an excruciating pace, he slipped the ring on her finger, giving her more than enough time to stop him, if she wished.
She didn't. She stared at the ring on her finger, how perfectly it fit. She turned in his arms, quickly.
He gave a crooked smile but choked on his words as her lips suddenly found his. Hard and passionately, she kissed him, lifting up for leverage to push him onto his back. He didn't resist her, his arms bound around her body, holding her to him as he returned her kiss with equal need.
She wasted no time, tearing the robe from her body. She broke the kiss to breathe, struggling with her undergarments. He cupped her face, sealing their mouths again as she kicked the final obstacle away then pushed down his boxers. Her toes hooking into the waistband, she helped him get them off then settled fully into him. He growled at the feel of flesh against flesh and she responded by intensifying the kiss. Desperate for him, she took him in her hand, readying him and herself.
"No," he said, pulling back from her and when she moved to complete them, he gripped her hips, stilling her actions.
"Please, Chris." She begged, rocking her hips into him and he had to resist the urge to just slam into her and let her have her way with him. "Please."
But he gathered all his will and shook his head. "No. Not like this. Not this time." He rolled them over, settling his full weight on her smaller body.
She swallowed hard as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Why?" she asked, a tinge of hurt in her voice as she draped her arms over his neck. "You ... you don't want me?"
He licked his lips, catching his breath. Every curve, every inch of her body touched his and he had to keep reminding himself to stay in control. "I want you more than life." He answered, then licked his kiss-swollen lips again. "But we're always like animals. I don't want to be like that anymore."
She felt her stomach lurch against his, her hips instinctively rocking, begging for his fill. "But there's no pleasure any other way."
"That's not true." He answered with a shake of the head. "Have you ever made slow sensual love to a man? Have you ever let a man make slow sensual love to you?"
She nodded.
"Then if you didn't get any pleasure. He wasn't any good." He kissed her so sweetly and softly that she barely felt it, just the slightest touch of his lips to hers. "I'll show you how good it can be. You've never felt pleasure like this before. I'm going to bring you ..." he smiled. "You, my wife, absolute ecstasy. He sealed their lips.
A rough hand grabbed his shoulder, hurling him back and with wide eyes, he watched as he was tossed away from her. He landed on the ground with a grunt. Fear struck his core.
She lay motionless on the ground, helpless and unmoving. A monstrous creature hovered over her. His cloven feet weighed heavy on the ground. Great horns sprung from the beast's head, his eyes burning red and his mouth a snarling grin. Huge and muscular, the beasts arms resembled that of a man, the skin of its torso a molten black, the hair on its legs a chestnut brown.
Chris staggered to his feet, his need to protect his beloved weighing strong. But he couldn't move. Vines crept up his legs, rooting him to the grass and as two vines trailed up his body, each wrapped around his arms, pulling him to all fours on the ground. He was trapped.
The beast laughed, grabbing her with a rough hand and lifted her against its muscled chest. "She'll never be yours."
"No," Chris struggled against his restraints. Why wouldn't she fight? Why wouldn't she resist?
But the beast just shook its head, its eyes dancing with victory. "She was mine a long time ago. And she'll always be mine."
The beast let out a loud roar, lifting the woman into the air before lying her back on the grass. The beast then knelt down on all fours, hovering over her possessively. The beast's head reared back, its hips bucking.
"No," Chris breathed, stunned to nauseated sickness. He watched as the beast continued to heave, an erect penis immerging from its fur covered hips. "No, no no."
The beast laughed, settling completely on top of the woman and its eyes flared with lust and wanting as it looked at Chris. "She'll always be mine. And you can never take her away."
The beast thrust.
"NO!" Chris screamed, bolting upright in his bed, the sweat pouring off his body. His eyes wildly searched the room, looking one way then the next, though what he was looking for, he didn't know.
His breathing eventually slowed, his body stilled and he slumped back onto the bed. Shaking his head, he quickly stood and staggered into the bathroom. Flipping the light, he leaned against the sink, staring haggardly into the mirror.
His eyes were bloodshot, blackened bags circling under his usually vibrant blue eyes. His face was drawn, worn. His hair hanging straggly and tangled from his recent bout with a nightmare.
He blinked a few times, staring into his own eyes. "You fucking loser. You're fucking weak. You're weak and pathetic." He condemned, snarling at his reflection. "Can't get a girl outta your head ... can't get a fucking life. Can't ..."
"Shut Up!" he hollered at himself, shaking his head fiercely to rid his mind of that horrid vision, whatever it was. "Shut up! You don't know!"
Chris bowed his head into his hands, falling to his knees. Tired, sorrowed, and weary, he couldn't even stand.
(That's it for this chapter. Tell me what you think. Can you see my direction yet?)