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.
August 2, 2004
Lita closed her eyes, a heavy sigh on her breath as she held the cell phone to her ear. The phone just kept ringing; he wasn't picking up. She opted to leave a message this time. "Jeff, it's me. You haven't been returning my calls and I really want to talk to you. Please. Let's just talk." She clicked her phone shut.
"Does it surprise you that he doesn't return your calls?"
Lita's eyes narrowed at the voice and she glanced back over her shoulder, a warning stare in her intense hazel eyes. "Nobody asked you, Stratus."
Trish kept her head high, her arms crossed over her chest.
"What do you want?" Lita sneered, standing straight and facing her one-time friend.
Trish blinked slowly, a look of disgust on her face. "I never thought you could do something like this."
"What?" Lita laughed. "Sleep with Kane. I guess we don't know each other as well as we thought. Does the fact that I'd do anything for the man I love surprise you? That's what love is, Trish. But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that."
"You bitch." Trish sneered, her eyes on fire with anger. "And you speak of love like you know what it is. I don't think you do."
"How dare ..."
"Oh, I dare." Trish taunted, stepping further into the room, standing only a few feet from the fiery redhead. "I'm calling you on being the two timing bitch that you are. You're a selfish bitch, Lita."
"Who are you to call me a bitch?" Lita cocked her head, restraining the anger to punch this woman in the face.
"I know what you did." Trish clarified, an edge to her usual calm voice. "I know what you did to Jeff." When Lita's eyes widened, Trish only shook her head. "I know what you did to him. Does it really surprise you that he doesn't call you back?"
Lita didn't respond. She wasn't expecting this.
"How could you." Trish condemned, her voice low and threatening. "How could you hurt him like this? How could you lie to everyone and just turn your back on him?"
"You don't know what you're talking about." Lita weakly defended, shaking her head furiously but she refused to back down.
"Are you ever planning on telling anyone? That Jeff is the father of your child?"
Lita grabbed Trish by the collar, viciously spinning the woman and pinning her against the lockers. "That's a filthy lie."
Trish let out a grunt at the impact and she swallowed hard, keeping her strength as Lita held fast so close to her neck.
"It's a lie." Lita insisted, harshly.
"Is it really?" Trish asked, a knowing flicker in her eyes.
"Take it back." Lita snarled, slamming her ex-friend into the lockers again. "Take it back. It's not true."
Trish cocked her head, showing calm despite the fear in her heart. Lita may just snap and try to hurt her. Trish would have to be ready just in case. "Is that what you've told yourself? Is that the lie that you believe now?"
"Shut up!" Lita growled, bowing her head, her hair falling around her face. "Shut up."
Trish smiled, knowing she'd won. "Well Matt would never know. A Hardy is a Hardy ... right?"
Lita slammed Trish into the locker again, this time her hand releasing and the redhead walked to the other side of the room. With an audible sigh, she kept her back turned, her hands on her hips as she looked at the ceiling. "You're no saint, Trish. Don't judge me."
"I didn't say I was judging you."
"You're so full of shit." Lita spat, turning her eyes back onto the blonde. "I see it in the way you're looking at me. You don't know, ok? You just don't know. And why the hell am I explaining myself to you anyway." That said, the redhead turned on her heels and marched out of the room.
Trish Stratus walked into Evolution's locker room, a sad look on her face.
"What's the matter, Little Girl?"
She looked up into the warm eyes of Ric Flair. "Where're the guys?"
"Hunter's gone. Randy and Dave are in the shower." Ric smiled. "Not together, but you know what I mean. Now, what's wrong?"
She chuckled with a shake of the head. "You're too much." She followed him as he sat on the couch, adjusting his blazer.
"You're already showered?"
Ric nodded. "I don't know what takes those boys so long to get ready. They don't even have to shower to have girls hanging off them. But you're still dodging my question."
"Nothing's wrong." Trish answered. "I just had a little ... confrontation with Lita."
Ric's eyes focused, intently watching Trish's face. "Everything ok?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It's fine." A smile pulled at her lips. "I saw what you did out there."
"What's that?"
Her smile grew warm as her eyes showed genuine concern. "In the ring. You barely touched him. You coulda hurt him. You coulda had the Figure Four Leg Lock on him at any moment. And you didn't."
"I got in that ring," Ric started, looking over Trish's shoulder so not to meet her eyes. "And I just thought of you, Little Girl. I couldn't touch him."
Trish ducked her head. "After everything between you and Chris ..." She sighed. "Ric, I don't know what to do."
Ric sighed. "I already told you, Honey. You gotta do what you want. And you can't think of anyone else. You gotta do what makes you happy and if that means leaving my boy in there, then you better do it. And do it soon."
Trish nodded her understanding then stood, scratching the back of her neck. "I don't feel so well. Tell Randy that I'm gonna go with Tyson back to the hotel and lay down."
"Ok, Little Girl." Ric answered, watching as she walked from the room.
Randy Orton stretched his neck, then vigorously rubbed a towel through his hair, getting as much water out as he could. "Hey, Ric." He said, walking out of the showers. "I thought I heard Trish's voice. Was she in here?"
"Yeah," Ric answered, glancing up from the book in his lap, his eyes peaking over the top of his reading glasses. "She left about fifteen minutes ago. Said she was tired and not feeling well."
"Oh."
"Yeah, you ok, kid? You don't look so good."
"I'm worried about Trish," Randy sighed, falling onto the couch next to Ric.
Ric stared momentarily off into the air. More and more he was becoming the neighborhood psych. He shook his head, returning his attention to the man at his side. "What's up?"
"She's been funny lately." Randy said, truly confused with the actions of his girlfriend. "Since last week. Last Monday we made love and she was all into it and all and her hands were in my hair and they were constantly moving, like trying to rake through it. It's almost like she wanted it to be longer. She was like fisting the back of my head and stuff. But then when ... when I called her name, she kinda stiffened up. I didn't know what happened and she opened her eyes. I felt her excitement kinda dwindling you know but I couldn't hold on. I felt like shit for doing that to her, you know so when I pulled out and back to try to finish her, she grabbed my arms and pulled me back to her side. She just curled into my side, her eyes closed and she said that she was fine and she didn't want anything else. That she was tired you know."
Ric nodded.
Randy sighed. "She hasn't climaxed for me in like a week. It's like ... it's like she doesn't want me or something."
"Maybe she's not in the mood." Ric said. "I mean you don't keep your hands off her. Why don't you give it a rest and just spend time with her? She'll warm up." He didn't have the heart to say what he truly thought.
Randy nodded. "I got carried away out there. With Jericho and I know it but, I just lost control. I don't know what it was. Like this jealousy and anger filled me and I don't know why. Trish is with me, not him. Why would I feel that way?"
Ric shrugged.
Randy tilted his head one way then the next, his lower lips sucked into his mouth as he sat deep in thought.
Chris Jericho glared into the mirror of his hotel room. He sat cross- legged on the bed, a whiskey bottle in his hand. His head cocked as his eyes narrowed. "Don't you look at me like that."
He tilted his head the other way. "I know you're looking at me. And I'm not drunk." He raised the bottle towards the mirror, a single finger pointing. "I'm not so don't give me that look."
He paused a moment. "If I was drunk, I'd be stumbling over my words WHICH I am not."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He yelled, staggering to his feet. "Don't you start with me. I am in no mood to deal with you today."
That said, Chris walked to the sliding glass door that led to his balcony. Throwing open the door, he stepped outside. It was nice in San Antonio. Beautiful outside. He glanced up at the balcony, one up and one to the right. Edge stood there.
Chris pointed, raising the liquor bottle into the air. "Asshole."
Edge peaked over the banister, his eyes flaring at the sight of his fellow Canadian. "Prick."
"You've got some nerve," Chris snarled. "You got some real fucking nerve coming onto my show and hitting below the belt. It was fucking low. What the hell was that all about? Stacy dumped your ass pretty hard too or don't you remember that."
Edge glared. "What is your fucking problem?"
"You have no right mocking my love life when yours is more fucked up than a day time soap."
"Fuck you, Chris." Edge growled, pointing a finger over the banister. "It's not my fault you're a fucking moron."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You are so fucked up that you don't know what you got till it's lost." Edge hollered. "If you weren't such a god damn moron, Trish would probably be in your arms right now and you'd be fucking her brains out. But No. What the hell is wrong with you?" Edge smiled. "You know, I'd be willing to say it's the fact that she's a woman. You can't keep women, Chris, face it. Why don't you just bend over and take it up the ass like we all know you want?"
Chris threw his liquor bottle, the glass slamming against the banister right in front of Edge. Edge ducked as the bottle shattered, the liquor and pieces falling to the ground. "Fuck you!" Chris snarled.
Edge picked up one of the potted plants at his feet and hurled it over the banister at Chris. "Asshole!" He yelled and Chris ducked, the pot whizzing past him and shattering.
"That's not fucking true." Chris defended. "Take it back."
Edge laughed. "Take what back. That you've got the smallest prick on the planet and can't keep a woman. Maybe that's why she left your ass."
"Hah!" Chris sneered. "Size isn't that important, EDGE. Maybe if you could do something with what you're packing, Stacy wouldn't have left you. One Pump Chump, that's the rumor backstage."
Edge's eyes narrowed. "You son of a bitch."
"Two much jacking off," Jericho responded. "Too used to your hand that the feel of a woman was too much for yah, huh."
Edge clenched his teeth, his body shuddering with rage. "You are the biggest jackass on the planet. You had Trish right where you wanted her and you had her head over heels. Then you did the bet. And then everything fell to shit. And just when I thought nothing would come of it ... you get Trish again. And what do you do. Fuck it up!"
Chris felt the rage consume him. "You don't fucking know. You don't fucking know what this feels like."
"Bullshit!" Edge yelled. "You aren't the victim here, dumbass. She is. You hurt her first with the bet. If the bet was real or not makes no fucking difference; her feelings were real. And then everybody racked on her for being cautious. I wanted to kill you for that, just so you know."
Chris glared.
"Oh, and let's not forget what happened." Edge continued. "She fucked you over and dumped your ass just like you god damned deserved. And then what. You get her back. Somehow you convince that girl to go back to your arms and she's in love with you again. And what do you do. What did you do, Chris!"
Chris ducked his head, a new sorrow filling him.
"That's right, you Fucktard." Edge snarled. "You had her in every way, shape and form and you would not hear an explanation of anything. You snapped and you slapped and she ran off. Does it surprise you that she's with another man. A real man! What did you want her to crawl back to you and ask for another? You hurt her first both times and now you're in pain and you want sympathy?"
"Hah!" Edge laughed. "You ain't getting any sympathy from me you stubborn Asswipe. You deserve exactly what you got for making her life a living hell. So Fuck you, Chris, you have no right to say anything about me."
Chris didn't respond as Edge walked back into his room, slamming the sliding glass door shut.
Jericho collapsed to his knees, his face contorted with new tears of realization. Edge was right.
(Shorter chapter, but don't worry. Oh, can you smell the build. I have no plans of finishing the story at summerslam, but let's just say ... something big will happen soon.)
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.
August 2, 2004
Lita closed her eyes, a heavy sigh on her breath as she held the cell phone to her ear. The phone just kept ringing; he wasn't picking up. She opted to leave a message this time. "Jeff, it's me. You haven't been returning my calls and I really want to talk to you. Please. Let's just talk." She clicked her phone shut.
"Does it surprise you that he doesn't return your calls?"
Lita's eyes narrowed at the voice and she glanced back over her shoulder, a warning stare in her intense hazel eyes. "Nobody asked you, Stratus."
Trish kept her head high, her arms crossed over her chest.
"What do you want?" Lita sneered, standing straight and facing her one-time friend.
Trish blinked slowly, a look of disgust on her face. "I never thought you could do something like this."
"What?" Lita laughed. "Sleep with Kane. I guess we don't know each other as well as we thought. Does the fact that I'd do anything for the man I love surprise you? That's what love is, Trish. But I guess you wouldn't know anything about that."
"You bitch." Trish sneered, her eyes on fire with anger. "And you speak of love like you know what it is. I don't think you do."
"How dare ..."
"Oh, I dare." Trish taunted, stepping further into the room, standing only a few feet from the fiery redhead. "I'm calling you on being the two timing bitch that you are. You're a selfish bitch, Lita."
"Who are you to call me a bitch?" Lita cocked her head, restraining the anger to punch this woman in the face.
"I know what you did." Trish clarified, an edge to her usual calm voice. "I know what you did to Jeff." When Lita's eyes widened, Trish only shook her head. "I know what you did to him. Does it really surprise you that he doesn't call you back?"
Lita didn't respond. She wasn't expecting this.
"How could you." Trish condemned, her voice low and threatening. "How could you hurt him like this? How could you lie to everyone and just turn your back on him?"
"You don't know what you're talking about." Lita weakly defended, shaking her head furiously but she refused to back down.
"Are you ever planning on telling anyone? That Jeff is the father of your child?"
Lita grabbed Trish by the collar, viciously spinning the woman and pinning her against the lockers. "That's a filthy lie."
Trish let out a grunt at the impact and she swallowed hard, keeping her strength as Lita held fast so close to her neck.
"It's a lie." Lita insisted, harshly.
"Is it really?" Trish asked, a knowing flicker in her eyes.
"Take it back." Lita snarled, slamming her ex-friend into the lockers again. "Take it back. It's not true."
Trish cocked her head, showing calm despite the fear in her heart. Lita may just snap and try to hurt her. Trish would have to be ready just in case. "Is that what you've told yourself? Is that the lie that you believe now?"
"Shut up!" Lita growled, bowing her head, her hair falling around her face. "Shut up."
Trish smiled, knowing she'd won. "Well Matt would never know. A Hardy is a Hardy ... right?"
Lita slammed Trish into the locker again, this time her hand releasing and the redhead walked to the other side of the room. With an audible sigh, she kept her back turned, her hands on her hips as she looked at the ceiling. "You're no saint, Trish. Don't judge me."
"I didn't say I was judging you."
"You're so full of shit." Lita spat, turning her eyes back onto the blonde. "I see it in the way you're looking at me. You don't know, ok? You just don't know. And why the hell am I explaining myself to you anyway." That said, the redhead turned on her heels and marched out of the room.
Trish Stratus walked into Evolution's locker room, a sad look on her face.
"What's the matter, Little Girl?"
She looked up into the warm eyes of Ric Flair. "Where're the guys?"
"Hunter's gone. Randy and Dave are in the shower." Ric smiled. "Not together, but you know what I mean. Now, what's wrong?"
She chuckled with a shake of the head. "You're too much." She followed him as he sat on the couch, adjusting his blazer.
"You're already showered?"
Ric nodded. "I don't know what takes those boys so long to get ready. They don't even have to shower to have girls hanging off them. But you're still dodging my question."
"Nothing's wrong." Trish answered. "I just had a little ... confrontation with Lita."
Ric's eyes focused, intently watching Trish's face. "Everything ok?"
She nodded. "Yeah. It's fine." A smile pulled at her lips. "I saw what you did out there."
"What's that?"
Her smile grew warm as her eyes showed genuine concern. "In the ring. You barely touched him. You coulda hurt him. You coulda had the Figure Four Leg Lock on him at any moment. And you didn't."
"I got in that ring," Ric started, looking over Trish's shoulder so not to meet her eyes. "And I just thought of you, Little Girl. I couldn't touch him."
Trish ducked her head. "After everything between you and Chris ..." She sighed. "Ric, I don't know what to do."
Ric sighed. "I already told you, Honey. You gotta do what you want. And you can't think of anyone else. You gotta do what makes you happy and if that means leaving my boy in there, then you better do it. And do it soon."
Trish nodded her understanding then stood, scratching the back of her neck. "I don't feel so well. Tell Randy that I'm gonna go with Tyson back to the hotel and lay down."
"Ok, Little Girl." Ric answered, watching as she walked from the room.
Randy Orton stretched his neck, then vigorously rubbed a towel through his hair, getting as much water out as he could. "Hey, Ric." He said, walking out of the showers. "I thought I heard Trish's voice. Was she in here?"
"Yeah," Ric answered, glancing up from the book in his lap, his eyes peaking over the top of his reading glasses. "She left about fifteen minutes ago. Said she was tired and not feeling well."
"Oh."
"Yeah, you ok, kid? You don't look so good."
"I'm worried about Trish," Randy sighed, falling onto the couch next to Ric.
Ric stared momentarily off into the air. More and more he was becoming the neighborhood psych. He shook his head, returning his attention to the man at his side. "What's up?"
"She's been funny lately." Randy said, truly confused with the actions of his girlfriend. "Since last week. Last Monday we made love and she was all into it and all and her hands were in my hair and they were constantly moving, like trying to rake through it. It's almost like she wanted it to be longer. She was like fisting the back of my head and stuff. But then when ... when I called her name, she kinda stiffened up. I didn't know what happened and she opened her eyes. I felt her excitement kinda dwindling you know but I couldn't hold on. I felt like shit for doing that to her, you know so when I pulled out and back to try to finish her, she grabbed my arms and pulled me back to her side. She just curled into my side, her eyes closed and she said that she was fine and she didn't want anything else. That she was tired you know."
Ric nodded.
Randy sighed. "She hasn't climaxed for me in like a week. It's like ... it's like she doesn't want me or something."
"Maybe she's not in the mood." Ric said. "I mean you don't keep your hands off her. Why don't you give it a rest and just spend time with her? She'll warm up." He didn't have the heart to say what he truly thought.
Randy nodded. "I got carried away out there. With Jericho and I know it but, I just lost control. I don't know what it was. Like this jealousy and anger filled me and I don't know why. Trish is with me, not him. Why would I feel that way?"
Ric shrugged.
Randy tilted his head one way then the next, his lower lips sucked into his mouth as he sat deep in thought.
Chris Jericho glared into the mirror of his hotel room. He sat cross- legged on the bed, a whiskey bottle in his hand. His head cocked as his eyes narrowed. "Don't you look at me like that."
He tilted his head the other way. "I know you're looking at me. And I'm not drunk." He raised the bottle towards the mirror, a single finger pointing. "I'm not so don't give me that look."
He paused a moment. "If I was drunk, I'd be stumbling over my words WHICH I am not."
"What's that supposed to mean?" He yelled, staggering to his feet. "Don't you start with me. I am in no mood to deal with you today."
That said, Chris walked to the sliding glass door that led to his balcony. Throwing open the door, he stepped outside. It was nice in San Antonio. Beautiful outside. He glanced up at the balcony, one up and one to the right. Edge stood there.
Chris pointed, raising the liquor bottle into the air. "Asshole."
Edge peaked over the banister, his eyes flaring at the sight of his fellow Canadian. "Prick."
"You've got some nerve," Chris snarled. "You got some real fucking nerve coming onto my show and hitting below the belt. It was fucking low. What the hell was that all about? Stacy dumped your ass pretty hard too or don't you remember that."
Edge glared. "What is your fucking problem?"
"You have no right mocking my love life when yours is more fucked up than a day time soap."
"Fuck you, Chris." Edge growled, pointing a finger over the banister. "It's not my fault you're a fucking moron."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You are so fucked up that you don't know what you got till it's lost." Edge hollered. "If you weren't such a god damn moron, Trish would probably be in your arms right now and you'd be fucking her brains out. But No. What the hell is wrong with you?" Edge smiled. "You know, I'd be willing to say it's the fact that she's a woman. You can't keep women, Chris, face it. Why don't you just bend over and take it up the ass like we all know you want?"
Chris threw his liquor bottle, the glass slamming against the banister right in front of Edge. Edge ducked as the bottle shattered, the liquor and pieces falling to the ground. "Fuck you!" Chris snarled.
Edge picked up one of the potted plants at his feet and hurled it over the banister at Chris. "Asshole!" He yelled and Chris ducked, the pot whizzing past him and shattering.
"That's not fucking true." Chris defended. "Take it back."
Edge laughed. "Take what back. That you've got the smallest prick on the planet and can't keep a woman. Maybe that's why she left your ass."
"Hah!" Chris sneered. "Size isn't that important, EDGE. Maybe if you could do something with what you're packing, Stacy wouldn't have left you. One Pump Chump, that's the rumor backstage."
Edge's eyes narrowed. "You son of a bitch."
"Two much jacking off," Jericho responded. "Too used to your hand that the feel of a woman was too much for yah, huh."
Edge clenched his teeth, his body shuddering with rage. "You are the biggest jackass on the planet. You had Trish right where you wanted her and you had her head over heels. Then you did the bet. And then everything fell to shit. And just when I thought nothing would come of it ... you get Trish again. And what do you do. Fuck it up!"
Chris felt the rage consume him. "You don't fucking know. You don't fucking know what this feels like."
"Bullshit!" Edge yelled. "You aren't the victim here, dumbass. She is. You hurt her first with the bet. If the bet was real or not makes no fucking difference; her feelings were real. And then everybody racked on her for being cautious. I wanted to kill you for that, just so you know."
Chris glared.
"Oh, and let's not forget what happened." Edge continued. "She fucked you over and dumped your ass just like you god damned deserved. And then what. You get her back. Somehow you convince that girl to go back to your arms and she's in love with you again. And what do you do. What did you do, Chris!"
Chris ducked his head, a new sorrow filling him.
"That's right, you Fucktard." Edge snarled. "You had her in every way, shape and form and you would not hear an explanation of anything. You snapped and you slapped and she ran off. Does it surprise you that she's with another man. A real man! What did you want her to crawl back to you and ask for another? You hurt her first both times and now you're in pain and you want sympathy?"
"Hah!" Edge laughed. "You ain't getting any sympathy from me you stubborn Asswipe. You deserve exactly what you got for making her life a living hell. So Fuck you, Chris, you have no right to say anything about me."
Chris didn't respond as Edge walked back into his room, slamming the sliding glass door shut.
Jericho collapsed to his knees, his face contorted with new tears of realization. Edge was right.
(Shorter chapter, but don't worry. Oh, can you smell the build. I have no plans of finishing the story at summerslam, but let's just say ... something big will happen soon.)