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 23, 2004

Lillian Garcia narrowed her eyes as she watched The Rock pacing the length of his locker room. "Ok you know what Mister? Everything out there was completely uncalled for."

Rock smiled. "Oh was it? You love the dirty talk, Baby, so don't even try that on The Rock."

Lillian placed her hands on her hips. "That's no excuse for telling me a drink sperm."

"Well you do."

She swatted at his arm. "That's not the point."

Rock beamed that signature grin. "But oh did it get you hot and bother. The Rock knows what you want and what you like."

Lillian sighed, ducking her head.

The Rock frowned, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Things are that hard. Everything with Chris. Don't get me wrong, The Rock knows that things are rough."

"Why can't you come back?" she asked, a slight tear in her voice. "For good. Why ... why can't you come back and make everything right? I ... I don't know how to reach Chris."

"Have you tried?"

Lillian shook her head. "I don't even know where to start."

Rocky sighed, pulling the woman more tightly into his arms.

She gripped him, hugging him, hiding in his chest. "You promised you'd take care of everything. Last time I saw you, you promised. And ... nothing's different. It ... it's all worse."

Rock nodded. "So busy."

"I know you're busy." She answered. "Just ... just try."

Placing a soft kiss on her forehead, he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, hugging her. "Not this week. Soon, Darlin. Soon."

Trish Stratus smiled, sauntering into her private locker room. "How was that?"

Randy Orton only shook his head. "That was mean."

"Oh come on," she coaxed, tying the sheer robe at the waist and walking to her locker. "It was well deserved."

"And entirely too funny." He included, lounging lazily on the couch. "I mean some of the stuff you said out there, though mean, was very ... very amusing."

"Was it really?" she asked hopefully, spinning to look at him.

Randy's face dropped, his jaw slacked as she leaned into her hip. Swallowing hard, he raised a single finger. "Do me a favor. If we're supposed to be 'friends'? You can not walk around like that in front of me. At least not this soon. Much less ... standing ... like that."

Trish flushed, quickly reaching into her locker and she pulled out a long bath robe. "I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, wrapping the robe around herself and covering her more than erotic lingerie. "Is that better?"

"Some," he answered with a chuckle. "Not entirely but believe me. Much better than before."

"I'm so sorry." She apologized again then turned towards her locker, digging through her belongings.

Randy exhaled a breath, blinking harshly to clear his head. "Not a problem. You just gotta give me time on that end of it. If you know what I mean."

She nodded, quickly. "I ... I do. I'm really sorry." She paused, cocking her head in deep thought. "You know?" She turned to face him, her hands on her hips. "What was that bitch thinking attacking me?"

He laughed. "Oh I don't know. It might have something to do with ... you know ... you insulting her in every way."

"But still," Trish defended, crossing her arms over her chest. "That's no excuse. Everything I said was true. Well except for the sex before marriage part. Well, no because I do believe that just never abided by it. But that's not the point."

Randy rolled his eyes. "Then what is the point, my dear?"

"The point is that bitch attacked me."

He shook his head, a bright smile on his face.

The locker room door opened, Tyson Tomko walking inside. "Your things are in the car."

"Thanks," Randy responded, standing.

"Tyson," Trish said, gathering her street clothes from her duffel bag. "Go with Randy."

Tyson took a step towards the woman, concern on his face. "But what about you?"

"I'll be fine," she answered, waving off his worry. "Really. I'm just gonna take a quick shower and get my things together. I'll be there soon."

"But I don't want to leave you." Randy said, just as concerned. "I don't trust anyone here, especially Hunter."

"And that's why you have to leave now." Trish argued. "Why would anyone come after me? You have to go now, Randy. I didn't want you staying as long as you did. Hunter's on a red streak and you are at the top of his list. Tyson, you go with him. He'll need you more than me."

Tyson eyed the woman carefully. "I don't like this. I don't want to leave you alone."

"I swear." Trish said. "I'll leave in less than half an hour." She glanced at her wrist watch. "If I'm not back to the hotel by midnight, then get worried. If I get tied up, I'll call. Don't worry. I'm a big girl."

Tyson nodded.

Randy sighed, approaching her and raising a finger, pointing in her face. "I don't care where you are. You can be outside the door to the room, you call me at quarter to twelve. If I don't hear from you, I'm gonna be on a rampage."

"Deal." She said with a smile.

Trish hiked her duffel bag higher onto her shoulder as she walked down the corridor of the arena. She took a quick glance at her watch. 11:30. Good, she still had fifteen minutes and in that time, she could be back at the hotel before anyone got worried.

Turing a corner, she bumped into a body and fell back onto the floor. "I'm sorry." She apologized quickly, shaking her head as she looked up. Her eyes widened. "Lita."

"Bitch." Lita snarled, tearing the veil from her head and tossing it onto the floor. "Did you enjoy that out there? That little number you pulled. Huh?"

A sinister smile spread across Trish's face as she stood, brushing herself off. "You can at least apologize for bumping into me. Oh, I'm sorry. Maybe I ask too much for courtesy."

"You don't deserve any politeness." Lita growled back. "Tell me, Trish." She sneered the name. "Who are you to preach any of what you said out there?"

Trish's eyes narrowed.

Lita smiled, victoriously. "No sex before marriage huh? Would you then care to explain the list of men ... that you've opened your legs for?" As Trish turned red, Lita only basked in the other woman's anger. "Maybe how quick you were to jump into bed with so many men. And sometimes one just wasn't enough, was it? How many times have you had two men at a time?"

Trish shook her head, her teeth clenched.

"You never knew how to say no, did you?"

"Neither did you." Trish shot back. "Kane? Couldn't say no to him, could you?"

Lita's jaw tightened. "When I said yes to Kane, I had Matt Hardy in mind. I had his well being in mind and I did that for someone I loved." She cocked her head. "Who were you thinking about when you spread your thighs? Or you were just thinking about the dick waving in front of you."

"Shut up."

Lita chuckled, knowing she'd won. "Wonderful answer. Proves my point. All you were thinking was on pitiful instinct. Oh look, there's a cock ... I know where that belongs. And you'd put it in wherever they wanted it."

"Shut up!"

Lita shook her head, inching her face closer to the other woman. "And as for your stunt, last week. You know as well as I do that it takes at least a month for birth control to settle in. And do you really think that I could force Kane to wear a condom. Do you!"

Trish refused to back down, her teeth still clenched.

Lita laughed. "Ha! Some chance that would be. It's like you forcing Andrew to wear a condom. Did he? Andrew. Did he wear a condom for you? Don't look at me like that. You know, I never once believed the stories you told me about him."

Trish's eyes widened in hurt.

"That's right." Lita shot back. "I never believed you. He never forced himself on you. You just couldn't say no. You liked him rough and that's how he was. Treated you like the tramp you were. He never hit you. He never said anything to you. He never called you names. And he never ... raped you."

Trish recoiled.

Lita's head whipped back with the slap and her eyes fired as she glared dangerously at the shaking blonde.

"You don't know." Trish quickly said in a rushed frightened voice. "You don't know. How ... how dare you. How dare you say that?"

"It's true."

Trish violently shook her head. "No! It's not. You don't know. You don't know what it's like. For ... for your voice not to matter. You don't know what it's like to be .... You don't know what it's like for a man to force himself on you!" She finally screamed. "Again and again. You don't know what it's like to be raped!"

Lita growled, wrapping her hand around the blonde's neck as she slammed her against the cement wall. She came within an inch of the other's face as she spoke between clenched teeth. "I don't know what it's like? I don't know what it's like for my voice not to matter? I don't know what it's like to be raped?"

Trish shook her head. "You ... you slept with Kane ... you ... you were willing."

"How do you know?" Lita responded in an almost demonic voice. "How do you know I wasn't pleading for him to stop? How do you know I didn't fight him every step of the way? How do you know I wasn't left in tears when it was done?"

Trish didn't answer, but closed her eyes.

"I know exactly what it's like." Lita continued. "To be left a shattered mess. Huddling against the corner of a room, my knees pulled into my chest as I watch him in the bed, laughing at me. Laughing at the sight of his ... essence ... leaking out of me. Laughing at the sight of his bite marks on my neck, my breasts. Or his reddened hand print on my throat from where he had to hold me down."

Trish swallowed hard, fighting the tears in her own eyes. Lita's recollection had brought back painful memories of her own traumas.

"I know ... exactly ... what it's like." Lita gruffly released her hold, but did not step back.

Trish licked her lips, nervous, afraid, and her mind swirling with flashbacks. "Why ... why would you marry him?"

"I had no choice." Lita answered, coolly, her voice barely above a whisper. "He would kill Matt. Make my life more miserable than it is. He'd hit me, beat me, rape me again. I don't know." She protectively wrapped an arm around her waist. "Kane doesn't need to know this child isn't his. I love this baby. It's mine. And if marrying Kane is what I have to do to keep this child alive ... then I'll do it."

"Because if Kane knew it wasn't his ..."

Lita sighed. "He'd see this child was dead. And me as well."

Trish didn't answer a long few moments but watched, awed as Lita stepped back. She cocked her head. Her once fiery friend now dreary and drawn. Trish ducked down slightly, trying to look into Lita's averted eyes. "And Jeff?"

A soft smile tugged at Lita's lips as she looked to the ceiling. "May God forgive me for hurting that boy. I never meant to."

Trish nodded. "Maybe you should ask him first. Then worry about God."

Lita's surprised eyes flew to Trish, but the little blonde was already walking away.

Trish sighed, holding the cell phone to her ear. "Randy, I'm fine. ... Yes, I'm still at the arena. I'll be back in about half an hour. Just let me grab some water or something."

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'll be fine." She answered. "I just need something to drink."

"Ok." He said. "I'll see you in a few."

Trish clicked her phone shut, sighing as she walked into the catering hall. Grabbing a bottle of water, she plopped down in one of the benches. Her eyes found him immediately.

Chris Jericho stood by himself, shaking in a slightly odd way. Was it a tick or a twitch, she didn't know, but he seemed unable to control it. He walked strangely, though from the way he was thrown into the ropes earlier that night, it wasn't surprising.

He walked to one of the tables, cocking his head as he looked at Chris Benoit. "Benoit?"

"Not now, Chris." Benoit dismissed with a shake of the hand. "I'm really busy." He turned his attention to the notebook in front of him.

Jericho bowed his head, stepping back and away. His eyes brightened as he spotted Stacy Keibler and he approached her. "Stacy."

"Hi, Chris." Stacy answered in her usual bubbly voice. "But I can't talk now, sorry. I'm going out with the girls. I'll talk to you some other time though ok? Bye."

Chris felt his body twitch slightly, shuddering as if he were cold and just like that, she was gone. His eyes scanned the room again. Licking his lips, he stepped up to another table. "Rhyno?"

"Hey, Chris." Rhyno said then turned his attention back to his tag team partner. "We gotta get them, Tajiri. But I'm not sure how we're gonna secure a spot for the title. I'm thinking that ..."

Chris ducked his head, bowing away as he knew when he wasn't wanted. His neck twitched again and he roughly raked a hand through his hair, walking out of the room.

Trish sucked her lower lip into her mouth, worried at the sight of him. That wasn't normal. The way he acted, how his body shuddered and shivered. What was wrong with him?

Her concern dominating, she stood and followed him from the room.

Chris staggered down the arena corridor. He shook his head violently and mumbled to himself.

Trish kept close behind him. She couldn't hear what he said, but he brought a hand up to the side of his head as he continued to trip his way down the hall. His head bobbed with his movements as if it were not of his control and his body sagged with each passing step.

"Don't." he said, shaking his head, viciously and he nearly bumped into the wall with the action.

Trish slowed, unsure. Was he talking to her?

"Who are you to tell me what's best?" Chris said.

Trish furrowed her brow. He was talking to himself.

"I don't wanna ice it." Chris stumbled, tripping over his feet and he reached out, stopping his fall with his hands. His palms slammed into the cement floor, but he didn't fall. His knees bent and legs slightly outstretched, he walked towards his hands then stood. "I'll ice it when I'm damn good and ready to and nobody is gonna tell me no difference."

Trish stopped as he suddenly did.

His shoulders slumped and he sat down on a crate to his side. "Don't say things like that." He shook his head, ducking almost to his knees as his hands raked back through his hair, fisting the back as he began to rock. "Shut up!"

Worried, afraid, Trish slipped into a shadowed corner, peaking around to watch him.

"Shut up!" he repeated. "They do care. They're my friends." He tensed momentarily. "Yes, they are!"

Trish shook her head, sighing to herself. "Oh Chris, what happened to you?"

"Stop it!" he ordered. "Stop it, leave me alone ... ... Shut up! I'm not all alone. I am NOT alone!"

She'd heard enough. She couldn't watch anymore. Trish stepped out from her hiding place, walking in front of him.

Chris's head whipped up at the sound and his eyes met hers. Wide-eyed, frightened, his breath hitched and he pressed against the wall, leaning back from her. He shook his head.

His continuous shaking was enough to make her want to cry. But she couldn't, though that didn't stop the glassy tears from rising to her eyes. She just refused to let one fall. Shaking her own head, she reached out, tentatively towards him. "Oh Chris."

He pressed harder against the wall, fearing her touch and he shied away. His trembling worsened and he licked his lips, nervous. "What ... what are you doing?"

Trish blinked slowly, stepping between his legs and reaching for his face. "Showing you that you're not alone."

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He was frozen.

She stood as close as she could, but he was sitting far back on the crate. She reached out the final distance, cupping his cheek in her hand.

He pulled away violently as if her touch had scalded him.

"Shhh," she hushed, tentatively waiting, her hand hovering just where it was so as not to frighten him. "Shhh, it's ok. I'm not going to hurt you, Chris. Chris, look at me."

He shook his head, ducking low as his body rocked with a sudden wave of energy.

"Shhhh, easy." She calmed. "Chris, look at me. Please."

Chris forced his eyes open, not moving any part of his body as his faded eyes locked on her.

"It's alright." She cooed, reaching for him again and this time, when her hand touched his cheek, he only stiffened, but did not pull away. "Shhh," she continued, then reached out with her other hand, completely cupping his face.

He tensed.

"Come here," she coaxed, pulling on him slightly to get him to sit up straight. "Come on, it's ok." He acted as though human contact frightened him, scared him. What had happened in those months they were apart? What had turned him into this tortured soul, this beaten animal?

Chris licked his lips, nervously obeying.

"That's it." Trish said with a warm smile, her eyes searching his face for any remnants of a man. There was none. "You had the courage to confront me last week."

He shuddered, finally sitting up and he scooched a little closer to her, his legs still dangling off the edge of the crate.

She brushed her thumbs over his cheeks, stroking him affectionately as her eyes searched his empty icy pools. "Chris?" She cocked her head, doing her best to control her voice. "God, Chris. What ... what's wrong?"

Her fingers moved slightly against him and his eyes widened as he struggled.

"No no." she calmed, not releasing his face. "It's ok. Look." She caressed his face then while cupping one cheek, she brushed her other fingers through his hair, tucking it behind his ear. He acted as though ...

Her eyes widened. When was the last time he had human contact? Affectionate human contact. When was the last time someone spoke to him, acted as his friend? She thought desperately back to last week. To everything he said. To everything he did. How desperate he was in that instant for her kiss.

A small whimper slipped from his lips and she was broken of her thoughts. Focusing on him again, she tried to look into his eyes. So sorrowed, glassed, faded and dead but she tried anyway. She had to try and get through to him.

"Chris." She called, tilting her head as she continued to caress him. "Chris, I care." Suddenly, he froze, his eyes locking on her. "I do." She assured.

A ringing broke her focus. She glanced to her bag which lay a few feet away. It was probably Randy. Worried. The last thing she needed was he and Tyson being worried and doing something rash. Swearing to herself, she rushed to her bag, zipping it open and getting the phone. "Hello."

"Trish?"

She sighed at Randy's voice. Standing, she turned back to Chris. "Randy I ..." Her eyes widened as she saw him hurrying away. "No, Chris!" she called.

He didn't react.

"Chris, please!"

But he was gone.

Sighing, Trish ducked her head, pressing a hand into her weary eyes. She couldn't withhold the tears anymore. The droplets slipped from her eyes.

"Trish? What is it?"

Trish sniffled. "Can ... It's nothing. I'm ..."

"What is it?"

She heard scuffling on the other end as if he were moving or dressing. "It's nothing. I'm fine. I'm ... I'm gonna leave now."

"What the hell happened?"

"Chris," she sighed. "He's a mess. I'm so worried about him."

There was silence a few moments. She could not hide her tears in that last answer. When Randy spoke again, it was cool yet concerned. "Did he hurt you? What happened?"

"No," Trish answered, shaking her head. "I mean he didn't hurt me. He's ... he's just a mess. And I ... I almost got something out of him but ... he left before I could."

"Ok." Randy said. "Are you coming right back? Please say yes, because I don't like the way Tyson is looking at me if you're gonna say no."

She smiled. "Yeah, I'm heading back now. See you in a few." She clicked her phone shut and dropped it back into the bag. Shaking her head, she plopped onto one of the crates to her side.

Her thoughts raced and all she could think about was that broken shattered mess of a man. "Oh God, what have I done to him?"

(So ends this chapter. I love reviews and with reviews comes longer and more detailed chapters. Hint hint hint. Yeah. So what's going on with Chris? How about Lita? Will Jeff make an appearance? Trish seems to blame herself.)