Title: By My Side

Author: Crimson Coin 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 31, 2005

Chris Jericho clenched his teeth, seething in both anger and frustration. He knew that his team should have won that match. Benoit and he completely had the capability of defeating La Resistance for those tag titles. But everything just fell apart in the ring.

Jericho knew that he was completely distracted. The last two weeks, his mind had always been furthest from wrestling. His mind was always with Trish.

He shook his head as he continued down the arena corridor. She was still home in Toronto, recouping from that chokeslam. His fists clenched, his body shaking with the sudden rise of furious rage. She was injured and he had done nothing to stop it. What kind of man did he think he was? What kind of man would let the love of his life be treated so brutally?

Hopefully she would recover soon. He missed her terribly and with the long trip to Japan planned, he would see little of her for the next few weeks.

Sighing heavily, he could only shake his head. He hadn't even had time to go and see her. He'd been so busy with having to wrestle and then his mother and father needed his help on the few days he'd had off. He did call her but that somehow did not seem enough. He should have made time for her. He should have done something.

Nearly defeated, Chris swallowed his sorrows and proudly raised his head. His eyes widened. "Trish?"

Trish Stratus stood a little ways down the hall, her head slightly bowed as she waited outside his locker room. She looked up at his voice and a bright smile spread across her face as she pushed off the wall, awaiting him.

Chris burst into a run, stopping directly in front of her as he scanned her body. She was lovelier than ever. He reached out tentatively, his eyes clouding over at the sight of the soft neck brace.

She quickly grabbed his hand, smiling brightly in an attempt to direct his attention elsewhere. "Chris," she sighed, gently. "Chris, I've missed you."

"I missed you too," he responded, leaning down to kiss her mouth. Slow, soft, and sensual, this kiss extended as long as he could hold his breath. "Trish, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I couldn't come see you. I ... wait ... what are you doing here?"

Her smile seemed to grow as her eyes searched his and she gently brushed her fingers across his cheek. She didn't give him an answer but instead let her gaze wander over him. Then she lifted up onto her toes to seal their lips again.

He shuddered at the sensation. "Oh God, the feel of you in my arms again ..." he trailed off as their lips met one final time. He couldn't help the little whimper of frustration when she pulled away.

Trish simply laughed, affectionately petting his mouth then stroking his cheek. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she hugged him, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His intoxicating scent flooded her senses and she pursed her lips to place a sweet kiss on his throat.

Chris ducked down, pressing his cheek against her as he tightened his embrace. "What are you doing here? You're not cleared to return. What are ..."

"And am I not allowed to see the man I love?"

"It's just ... well, surprising, that's all," he answered, easing her back to look on her face. "You're only here for me?"

"Well, no," she admitted with a sweet giggle. "I have other ... business, if you will. But You were my second equal reason for being here. I missed you. So I sought you out first."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm pleased that I come second in your book of importance."

"Not second," she corrected him. "Equal with the first. Come. Walk with me." She grabbed his hand then, leading him down the hallway and to the curtain.

"What are we doing?"

"I have business."

Chris tensed and his tension rose as she led them into a small alcove, hiding them from any passers-by. "I don't like the tone of your voice. What do you mean business?"

Trish sighed, looking up to meet his eyes. Despite the darkness, there was just enough light so she could see the glistening of his eyes, the soft curves of his features and that slight scruff on his jaw. Unable to resist, she traced a single finger through that scruff. "Trust me, Chris. I'll tell you in a minute."

He waited patiently as she watched from the shadows but for what she was looking for, he did not know. Stage hands and other crew members bustled by but she paid them no heed.

"Dave"

His eyes widened at her call and Dave Batista searched the area around him as if searching for the voice. Trish stepped just out of the shadows, waving to the big man. Chris felt his heart clench, his body surge. What was she thinking?

Trish smiled as she grabbed Batista's hand, pulling him a little further into the shadows. "Dave, I need to ask a favor."

"Of course," Dave answered, his eyes true but still worried. "But how are you? Your neck?"

She waved off his concern, easily sensing Chris's discomfort and she reached back to grab his hand. "It's ok. I'm fine. Just a little stiff and sore. But that doesn't matter. I have a favor to ask ... of both of you."

Chris obeyed her tug and soon stood next to Batista, his eyes full of wary for a moment before looking back at the woman before him. "You're acting so strange. I don't understand."

"The Kane/Snitsky match is now. The cage match." She said slowly then licked her lips, gathering the courage to say the next words. "I'm going out there."

Jericho's eyes widened. "No!" He quickly shook his head, his eyes locking with hers. "No, you can't. What ... why ... I ... why would you go out there? What are you going to do? I don't understand. I ..."

Trish placed a reassuring hand on his arm though the action did little to quell his emotions. "That's why I need Dave." She turned her eyes on the big man, a pleading gaze reflected. "Dave, please. I need you to keep him back here."

"What?" Chris shook his head in fierce protest. "No way. Bullshit. I'm not letting you go out there."

"Dave, please," she begged, reaching out another hand to touch Batista's forearm.

"None of this 'Dave' shit," he snapped viciously, standing between her and Batista. "You talk to me. You tell me what you're thinking. I'm not letting you go out there."

Trish sighed, sadly, her eyes glistening with a sorrow never shown before. "Chris? Do you love me?"

Taken aback by her question, he furrowed his brow, unsure what she was asking. "What? Do I love you? Of course I do. You know that."

"Then let me do this. And stay back here. Don't come out. No matter what."

"You can't ask me that." He answered shaking his head at her. "How could you ask me that? Knowing that you're going to go out there and anything can happen and God help me, I'm not gonna let another man hurt you again." He clenched his teeth. "It was bad enough I let that Heidenreich near you way back when and now there is no way in fucking hell I'm letting you out there with Snitsky and Kane. If you gotta go out there for some reason, then I'm going with you."

Trish stepped away from him, shaking her head at his words and that sadness magnified in her eyes. "Chris, if you love me ... if you trust me, you'll let me do this on my own. You'll let me do what I have to do."

"What do you have to do?" he questioned, reaching out to grab her hands with his, pulling them against his chest. He gazed down at her, mirroring her sadness though with double the emotion. "Why can't I do it for you? Or we can do it together."

"No," she corrected him but did not pull away. "Please, understand."

Defeated, Chris dropped her hands, his head bowed. "And Dave is ..."

"Gonna keep you here," she answered for him. "Will you stay here?"

Jericho sighed. "Is that truly what you want? You want me to stay back here while you charge out there and do something that I'm unable to help or protect or ..."

"Chris, please," she begged. "Trust me."

He stepped away from her, his back turned. "Go. Go now before I change my mind."

"Thank you, Chris."

He shivered when he felt her hands on his back and that shiver chilled his core at the soft kiss she placed at the sweaty skin on his back. It was a long few moments before he felt her leave and then another few longer moments before he turned around.

Dave had not moved.

Chris chuckled. "I see there's gonna be no getting past you."

Dave smiled.

Dave clenched his teeth, his arms wrapped around the smaller man as he lifted Jericho into the air, holding him back.

"Let ... me ... go!" Jericho cried, uncaring of the spectacle he was. "I gotta get out there."

"No," Dave growled, tightening his hold. "I swore I'd keep you here. And by God, Jericho, you ain't going anywhere."

"He almost chokeslammed her again. He tore the thing off her neck, he ..."

"And she's ok." Batista argued. "Calm down before I knock you out."

Jericho stilled.

Dave put him back down, tossing him against the metal fixture of the backstage ramp, keeping Jericho from walking out that curtain.

Chris brushed himself off, turning passionate eyes upon the man before him. "Let me go out there, Dave."

"No."

"Please," he begged, hearing Kane's music play loudly through the arena. "Please, the match is over. The cameras are probably off. Nobody would know."

"I can't," Batista answered, slowly shaking his head. "I promised Trish."

Chris took a step closer. "Dave have you ever been in love?"

Batista tensed, his eyes averting.

"Dave," Jericho stepped closer still. "Dave, picture that woman you love in Trish's shoes. And place yourself in mine. What would you do?"

Dave still didn't respond, but his eyes gave away every emotion swirling within him.

"You'd go out there," Chris pressed. "Let me go out there. Let me help the woman I love."

"I know how we both can get what we want," Batista finally said then a sly smile spread across his face. "We wait here. And when Kane comes back, we both can get him."

Jericho smiled.

Trish Stratus lingered, watching with wary eyes as Kane walked up the ramp to the back. She was tempted to slip back into the ring to check on Snitsky but that thought quickly left her mind. Reaching back to rub at the sore muscles of her neck, she slowly made her way up that ramp, being extra cautious. She really did not know where Kane was.

Meandering behind the curtain, she walked down the steep metal stairs then glanced around. Where was Chris? And what was that scuffling?

Creeping slowly so not to be seen, Trish peeked around the corner and into those same dark shadows she was in only minutes ago. Her eyes widened. "Chris, no!"

Jericho heard nothing but saw only red as he and Batista kept the big Red Machine pinned to the ground, never once pulling back on any punch. He staggered to his feat, his rage pounding in his head as he kicked the downed man, hoping that he could kick just hard enough to fracture the already bruised ribs.

"That's enough," Batista growled, grabbing Jericho's arm and tugging him away from the fallen man. When Jericho struggled, Dave only held his grip tighter, spinning the smaller man to face him. "I said ENOUGH!"

Jericho closed his eyes, calming the nerves that had so recently tattered within his control and after a few deep breaths, his heart soothed. Shrugging away from Batista, Jericho turned his back and stormed down the corridor, not even noticing the small woman standing off to the side.

Trish watched after him, a fervent worry reflected in her eyes. She startled when she felt a large hand on her shoulder but soon sighed a relief when she noted it was Dave. "I've never seen him like that before."

"Frightening, isn't it?" Dave inquired. "You should go check on him."

She nodded, quickly dismissing herself. Swiftly weaving down the corridor, she saw him, his back to her as he stormed through the arena. "Chris."

He didn't stop at her voice though he did slow down, his head bowed.

"Chris, wait," she pleaded, finally catching up with him and she reached out to touch his shoulder. "Chris."

He yanked his arm away from her, turning to glare down into her eyes. The hurt and betrayal at his actions were obvious in her eyes and he instantly felt a wave of guilt flood his every sense. He sighed, defeated, his head bowed.

Trish reluctantly backed away from him, averting her eyes. Not this again. He was going to be angry with her. Would he strike her again?

"I'm sorry," he breathed, shaking his head, his tone scolding. "I ..."

"Your knuckles," Trish said softly, reaching out to grab his hand and pull it closer to her. She delicately traced the bruised, battered, and bleeding knuckles. Nervous, upset, she looked up at him.

His eyes were closed, his breathing slow as he savored the feel of her touch.

She ran her hand up his arm and to his shoulder, resting on the pulse point of his neck.

Chris opened his eyes, meeting her deep gaze, his heart borne for her to see. No words were necessary as he stepped closer, encasing her in his arms and hugging her into his chest.

Trish sighed at the sensation, her heart fluttering as his arms tightened. She buried her face in his neck, inhaling the familiar yet intoxicating musk that she always recognized as distinctly him. Comfort at last. "You didn't need to do that."

"I know."

"Why?"

"I told you," he mumbled into her hair, inhaling the wondrous aroma. "No man ever hurts you while I'm here. And if I can't protect you out there in the ring, I can ensure they will never go after you again."

She sighed, tightening her hold on him, her arms wrapping around his neck in the most intimate of embraces. "Keep me safe tonight?"

"Always." He murmured, pulling back only far enough to place his lips over hers.

(Wasn't really motivated to write last week, but this week I got this chappie for you. Hope you enjoy it)