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.

September 6, 2004

Christian continued to spit obscenities to the ring as he and Tyson Tomko slowly walked backwards up the ramp. A sneering smile on his face, he flipped off his former friend then turned, walking behind the curtains, leaving the other man unconscious in the center of the ring.

He brushed through the dark curtain, Tomko close behind as they meandered through the backstage equipment then down the narrow metal stairs. He stopped suddenly when a petite female figure stepped in front of him.

Trish narrowed her eyes.

Christian kept his shoulders square, his head high. She was still soaked from when Nidia tossed that drink on her. Her hair long and slick, her tattered shirt stained pink. "What?" he nearly growled.

She kept her eyes focused and intense as she slowly shook her head, scoldingly and disappointed.

An almost sinister smile slipped onto his lips. "This from the woman who had Tyson powerbomb him through the announce table."

Shocked and appalled, she raised an accusing finger, pointing at his chest. "You know damn well why I did that."

"Really?" Christian coaxed. "Because if you ask me, it wasn't necessary. I was gone. You could have left him alone. But you just couldn't help yourself. You know, I'm starting to think you want to hurt Chris."

"Lies." She snapped, anger forcing her lips to curl. "Lies and you know it."

"Is it really?" Christian taunted. "You went out of your way to hurt him. And now that I legitimately want him to suffer, I'm the bad guy. Explain that to me."

Trish didn't answer him.

Christian smiled, arrogantly. "That's what I thought. Chris and I have a reason for hating each other. Whether it's because of you or because of me or because of him, our anger is real. And I'm sick of always having to answer to him. I'm sick of being in his shadow. I'm sick of always having to sacrifice for him or for anyone. I'm on my clock now."

Disgust filled her and she had to resist the urge to just strike Christian across the face. Her eyes traveled to the man standing behind Christian, to Tyson Tomko. "You too, I assume."

Tomko didn't respond; he didn't even acknowledge her words.

Trish chewed on the inside of her cheek as her eyes met Christian's again. "So that's it, isn't it."

"It's your choice." Christian clarified. "You can be by my side or you can leave." That said, he walked past her, Tyson following close behind.

Chris Jericho lay on the couch in his locker room. Still in only his wrestling tights, he kept his eyes closed, a hand holding a bag of ice cubes to his forehead.

He'd snapped at the trainers yet again. He felt bad about that. They were only doing their jobs and he always made it difficult. But he didn't care. He just wanted to be left alone.

That's all he wanted anymore. He just wanted everyone to leave him alone. When he was alone, there was no criticism, there was no fear. No one to attack him. No one to hurt him.

Granted, he often got into heated arguments with himself, but that was understandable. His self conscious insisted that he still loved Trish Stratus. And that was a total lie.

He didn't love Trish Stratus. He didn't care one bit about her because all she brought him was pain. Like how over the last few weeks, she had been confronting him, speaking to him and trying to be affectionate.

But he was too smart. He knew what was going on. She was trying to get close again, just so she could break his heart. She was trying to get close so she could hurt him again.

He wouldn't let that happen.

Though one thing confused him. His nightmares had stopped. The last horrible dream had been almost two weeks ago and he'd been sleeping lately. No nightmares, only pleasant dreams if not complete deep sleep.

He jumped, startled and scared as someone touched his face. He jostled back, recoiling at the touch and his eyes popped open.

"I'm sorry."

Chris froze at the sight of Trish Stratus, sitting beside him on the couch.

"I'm sorry for scaring you. I didn't mean to. I ..." she smiled, shyly. "I thought you were sleeping."

He nervously licked his lips, his eyes glimmering with fear.

"Please, don't be afraid of me." Trish said, softly, reaching out to touch his face. When he recoiled, she thought better of it and grabbed his hand instead. "I mean it when I say I'm not going to hurt you. And I wasn't behind what Christian did."

He swallowed hard, wondering why his body shuddered. His eyes trailed down, gazing at his hand and how both her tiny hands entwined with his much larger. Warmth. He felt ... warmth.

She smiled, ducking her head slightly to look onto his face. "Chris?"

He raised his head, forcing his eyes to meet hers. So pretty. She was just, so pretty.

"Hi." She cooed, squeezing his hand with hers. "I want you to believe me, Chris. I have nothing to do with what Christian is doing now. And I have nothing to do with Tyson."

Chris nodded, staring past her shoulder to the cement wall. "Tyson never liked me very much."

Trish smiled, her heart soaring at his voice. Finally, he'd spoken. She had to keep him going. "No. He didn't. But Tyson doesn't like too many people."

He didn't answer her.

She sighed, slightly frustrated at his on/off behavior. She couldn't get anything from him.

Chris licked his lips when she bowed her head and his eyes fell on her. He felt his stomach drop, his palms growing sweaty and he cocked his head. Her hair was still slicked from that juice that Nidia tossed at her and her shirt died that wonderful pink. It was wet, clinging to her body and he couldn't help but think how beautiful and ... and sexy she looked.

Trish took a few more deep breaths, raking the annoying sugar-sticky fibers out of her eyes and she rolled her shoulders, rocking her head one way then the next to relax her muscles.

"Are you in pain?"

She froze, her eyes opening to look at him at those words. She winced, reaching back to rub one shoulder, squeezing the tense and balled muscle.

He eyed her curiously, concerned that she seemed to be in so much pain.

But Trish quickly shook her head, waving off that concern. "I'm fine. I just had my match so I'm still in that mode."

He swallowed hard again, stilling his racing heart and holding in the sting he felt at those words. And yet again, another experience at how people could only bring pain. Others could only bring pain.

"Look," Trish began, reaching out to brush her fingers along his brow, touching the reddened spot. That was where the ladder hit him. "I want you to win on Sunday." She confessed softly, caressing him affectionately. "I do. I mean it."

Chris simply ducked his head.

"Chris," she called, tilting his chin up to meet his eyes. "I don't know what I'm going to do yet. I may go out there with Christian. I may get involved. But it has nothing against you."

He trembled as she tickled her hand along his jaw, cupping his cheek in her warm palm. He nearly moaned as her thumb brushed his lips, her eyes never leaving his.

"If I help Christian, it's because I have a bigger plan. He's hurting you. Like he did tonight and I don't want to see that anymore. Don't worry. I'm really in your corner, Chris. My heart is in your corner. Believe me."

He licked his lips again, his heart racing and his skin growing clammy, but he just didn't know why.

"Believe me, Chris." She repeated, letting his name roll right off her tongue. "Please. At least let me know that you've heard me."

Chris offered a quick shaky nod.

She smiled, continue her caress and she brushed her thumb across his lips one last time before pulling back. "Ok. Just trust me, ok. Everything will be just fine."

Chris didn't let go of her hand when she stood, but instead gripped tighter as his frightened worried eyes gazed up at her.

She squeezed his hand in comfort and then turned to leave.

But still he didn't release her.

Trish faced him again as her arm stretched out and she knelt down at his side, close to his head. "What is it?"

Chris released a heavy breath, gathering his thoughts and controlling his words. He couldn't stop their quivering when he finally gained the courage to speak. "Help me."

Her smiled softened, emanating nothing but warmth and tenderness. "I will." She breathed, pulling his hand close to her chest, to her heart. "But you have to trust me. And remember, my actions out there are only for a better good ok?" She tilted her head, inching a little closer to make sure her eyes locked with his.

Chris blinked slowly, breathing heavily as he tried desperately to control himself. But something was just so overwhelming and he just didn't know what it was.

"Never doubt that I am behind you, one hundred percent." She clarified at his uneasiness. "I know our past doesn't say much and neither of our past actions help matters. But we're gonna start from scratch now. And we'll just have to blindly trust each other for this to work. Can ... can you do that?"

He licked his lips. Why did they keep drying out? "Can ... can you trust me?"

Affectionate and honest, her smile warmed even more.

Chris almost died at her loveliness. He remembered the last time she looked at him like that. And it was before Wrestlemania. It was during November, when everything was fine.

"Of course." She breathed, offering his hand one last squeeze before standing, her hand slipping from his.

He watched, oddly warm and comforted as she walked from his room and let the door swing gently shut behind.