Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any mentioned wrestlers. They are merely used/borrowed for the purpose of this fictional story.

Rating: PG 13 – R, depending on the chapter

Summery: Continuing from Unstoppable and Endless Love. Will friends and love still flourish?

Timeline: October 2004 – present

January 17, 2005

Trish Stratus waited patiently in the shadows outside her locker room. She watched with narrowed eyes as Mohammed Hassan walked head high through the curtain and then down the corridor, speaking to his manager in a language she didn't understand. Without another word, she ducked back into her locker room, knowing he would come.

She was right.

Jericho stumbled into the locker room not one moment later. His head cradled his head, his eyes slit as his teeth clenched. The pain swelled through his back and neck and he let out a strangled hiss as he stood still a few moments.

"Chris," she breathed, stepping up to him and she reached out to stroke her hands across his cheeks. She adored the scruff on his jaw but now certainly was not the time to tell him so.

"How the hell did I lose control of that?" he asked with a slow shake of the head. Still cupping the back of his neck, he forced open his eyes, gazing onto her lovely face. "Trish … Darling."

"Shhh," she hushed him, petting her fingers across his lips for a moment before tugging on his arm. She offered him a seductive smile, her lips tweaking beautifully as her eyes flickered with a desire that never seemed to die. "Come on. I can help you forget."

He returned her smile, though his was far more goofy and crooked. Though despite his grin, his eyes mirrored her lust, the unquenchable thirst blazing powerfully beyond the ice blue of his normally placated eyes.

She giggled as she reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and she brushed her lips teasingly over his.

Chris had to suppress a moan as his eyes fluttered, his body trembling from only that small kiss. Banding his arms around her waist, he crashed their lips together, pulling her body flush to his as he fell onto the couch, pinning her beneath his taut body.

Dave Batista shouldered his duffel bag. Not even bothering to shower, he had only pulled on a pair of sweat pants and he currently walked to his car. He just had to get out of there. He couldn't be around anyone.

Confusion raced through his mind. His choices scrolled in his head. Should he enter the rumble? Should he listen to Hunter?

He just wasn't sure anymore.

Randy Orton raced down the corridor, his eyes focused, his mind intent. He wanted to be one place only. Not even bothering to knock, he slammed through the door to the women's locker room. "Out ... everyone." Then he smiled. "Everyone ... but you."

Stacy Keibler returned his smile and her brow rose teasingly as she placed her hands on her hips. The other women scattered from the room.

Randy licked his lips as he slammed the door closed, his eyes unwavering of the women before him. He nearly moaned when a little pink tongue peeked from between her lips and she licked them moist. "You tease me in front of the camera, woman. You act ..."

"Innocent?" she responded for him. "I am innocent, Legend Killer."

"Innocent," he chuckled, sauntering over to her, making sure he took his time. He knew how she enjoyed looking at his body and he made absolutely certain she could view every part she wanted.

Stacy nodded, trying desperately to force her eyes to stay on his face, no matter how difficult that was. "Yes. Innocent."

That indescribable hunger flamed in his eyes, his expression serious and desire filled. "I'll show you innocent."

She gasped as his lips suddenly found hers, his hands racing around her back to pull her close and he swiftly devoured her before she even had time to react.

"You tease me, woman," he growled as his lips trailed to her throat and then he pulled back to look in her eyes.

Stacy panted, her own eyes blazing with lust. "Don't tease me anymore."

Randy crashed his lips to hers. He had no intention of being a tease.

Trish arched her back, her eyes rolling back into her head as her fingers clutched at the flesh of his shoulders then raked down to his waist. Her pants fell delicately from her lips, and she clenched her teeth as he grabbed her thighs, positioning them higher on his hips. She obeyed his silent wish and clasped her legs more tightly around him.

Licking her lips, she forced her eyes to focus on the clock across the room. "Hurry," she beckoned him with a desperate spur of her hips. "Your ... your match is ... is now."

"I don't care," Chris growled, sealing their lips in a passionate kiss as he quickened their rhythm.

Batista dropped his belongings on the floor of his suite. He was thankful that he wouldn't be disturbed this night. He didn't want any disruptions. All he wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

He had been more tired as of late and he didn't quite know why. Instead of resisting, he embraced the urge to sleep. Somehow, it was the only place he could escape where everything was alright.

Chris Jericho winced, holding his head as he stumbled into the trainer's room. His head swirled, his eyes fluttering as he fell onto the bench, the trainers reaching out to steady him.

"Chris," Trish called, racing into the room, uncaring of the others or the strange looks they gave her. "Oh Chris, that ... that was awful out there."

"Trish," he sighed, attempting to sit up but a wave of nausea swept him and he fell back onto the table.

"Don't," she said quickly, running to his side and placing a hand on his chest, making sure he would not rise again. "Be still. Don't make it worse. What is it? What happened?"

"When Benoit kicked me through the ropes ... my ... my head his ... my forehead hit the ground damn hard." He managed to laugh at himself. "Can you believe it?"

Trish only shook her head. "Don't move, ok? I just have to go trash talk Lita. I'll be right back."

Chris didn't respond positively or negatively. Nothing he could say would sway her either way, so he didn't even bother.

Chris didn't know how much time passed and he completely engrossed himself in the comfort of the cold ice on his forehead. He jumped as someone bashed through the door and he squinted.

Rhyno pushed past the trainers, stopping swiftly at his side. He panted a while, trying his best to catch his breath.

"What is it?" Jericho laughed, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder. "Calm down. Breathe. Relax. Just tell me."

"Trish," the dark man huffed and he tried to continue as the sudden worry rose in the blond man's eyes. "Kane ... he ..."

"What!" Jericho roared, pushing up, wavering as he did so. "What ... did ... Kane ..." his faced fumed red, his body tensing and he shuddered with unyielding intensity.

Rhyno swallowed hard. "Chokeslam."

Jericho's eyes widened as his body surged. Anger, fear, love, loathing, pain, betrayal. It was too much. His injury, his head dizzy and his emotions out of control. Trish had to be hurt. The chokeslam ... he ... that monster. Too much to handle, the emotions took over and he was engulfed in a world of darkness.

Trish couldn't move. Her body was sore ... painful. She didn't want to open her eyes. She didn't even want to think. The visions of the last moments in that ring raced through her mind. The fear, the absolute fear. And then pain. Complete and unrelenting pain.

But then something else grabbed her attention. She wasn't alone. There was a stern hard grip on her one hand. Someone's palm was sweaty in her, balmy and then she could notice the shaking of the bed. A head was pillowed against her hip, whoever it was must have been crying for she could feel the shuddering of silent sobs.

She inhaled deeply, willing herself to rouse no matter the pain that intensely shot through her body.

"Trish?"

She hummed forcing her eyes to open and adjust. As the fog cleared, the first sight that graced her vision was the tearfilled ice blue eyes of Chris Jericho. She sighed his name.

"I'm here. I'm here, Baby," he cracked out. "Oh my God. I ... I have to get the doctor."

"No, wait," she forced out, her hand clutching more tightly at his. Her eyes cleared and upon seeing him, the pain pushed from her mind.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, crying with his sorrow. "I should have been watching. I ... there was no monitor in there ... I ... I didn't know. I didn't know what was happening. And when ... when Rhyno told me it ... it already happened and you ... and I ... oh God, Trish."

The blonde woman did not fight the arms of her beloved when he gathered her against his chest, hugging her tightly. She clenched her teeth though, withholding the wince his actions caused. She was in complete pain.

He eased her back, making sure she was comfortable in the hospital bed and he smiled cheerily down at her. He choked on a laugh. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. I ... I shouldn't have left you I ..."

"Shhh," she responded with a soft smile and reached up to touch his cheek. "I don't blame you. I never could."

"Trish," he sighed, leaning down to press his lips softly to hers. "Oh God to ... to think that we were making love and then ... twenty minutes later this ... this happens."

She sniffed. "Just hold me, Chris."

"I love you," he mumbled, kissing her once then again.

"I love you too," she breathed in response.

Unable to stop the tears from dripping down his cheek, he leaned down, stretching out beside her battered body. Being extra careful, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. He felt such anger, such disdain, such hatred as she shivered slightly and the few droplets of tears slipped from her eyes.

Kane would pay. He would see to that. One way or another.

Dave closed his eyes, his body sagged as he approached his suite door. Without questioning, he opened the door.

Lilian Garcia glanced up at him with sad eyes. "I saw the smile on your face tonight. You haven't smiled like that in a long time."

"I haven't had much reason to smile."

She smiled, cocking her head at him.

He returned her smile. "I guess I do now."

"You're better than all of them, Dave," she sighed, reaching a tentative hand out to touch his brow. "You can prove it." That said, she stepped into his room, allowing the door to close gently behind her.

(Well I'm glad to see everyone wants me to continue. So we'll go as long as ... well whatever. Thanks for the reviews and I appreciate all the more. The more reviews, the better.)