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

February 7, 2005

Chris Jericho staggered through the backstage arena, his one hand resting on the wall for balance. His head throbbed with the slice over his eye, the blood trickling hotly down his face and dripping slowly from the tip of his nose.

Wavering slightly, he forced his vision to clear then stepped into his locker room.

"Come here," a soothing voice calmed.

He sighed, relaxing at the familiar tone. He closed his eyes, draping an arm over her slender shoulders as she led him into the room.

Trish carefully pushed him onto the couch, making sure he was comfortable.

Moaning slightly, he leaned back, slouching into the comfortable cushions. "It seems we just can't be happy lately. All this ... shit ... just keeps happening."

"Shhh," she hushed him.

He didn't know what she was doing but he heard her scuffling around the room. He kept his eyes closed, his head spinning and swirling. He tensed momentarily when he felt her crawl into his lap, her knees to either side of his thighs but then he moaned again in comfort when she placed a cool wet cloth to his head.

Trish carefully wiped the blood from his brow, cheeks and nose, cleaning off the dripping fluid before pressing the cloth to the cut, attempting to stop the bleeding. "You've been so weary lately. I've been worried. And you work too hard, push yourself too hard. Like tonight, that match. It was brutal, Chris, you should have stopped earlier."

"I couldn't give up," he mumbled softly, sinking into her touch and the comfort her presence graced upon him. "I don't give up. The fact that I'm with you is a testament of that."

"Chris," she breathed, slowly shaking her head.

"I shouldn't have tapped." He chided himself. "I had so much left to give. If only I tried harder. It was a great competitive battle and I respect Benoit but ..."

"Stop this talk," she ordered him though her voice remained a gentle caress. "If you tapped, it was because of the pain. And your head had been bleeding for a good long time. And do you know how pissed I would have been if you were semi-conscious coming back here. You'd have another thing coming, Mister."

He opened a single eye, catching the joking glistening in her eyes, the sweet smile on her face. He laughed. "And what would you do. I'm faster than you and stronger than you and bigger than you. You could never do anything to me."

"Is that so?" she questioned him, cocking her brow. "You seem to forget, My Dear, exactly who I am." She lifted the cloth, noting that the bleeding had stopped and the cut was beginning to scab.

"And I still state that you could do nothing to me."

"Hmmm," Trish swirled a single finger along his cheek and the scruff of his jaw before traveling lower and across his chest. Her smile sweetened at his short intake of breath and she continued lower around his abdomen and tickling his navel for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably beneath her but she continued still, this time using all her fingers to tease the waistband of his tights.

"This is cheating, woman," he growled between clenched teeth.

Her eyes remained innocent and playful. "I thought you said I could do nothing to subdue you. You are mine, Chris. And look at the control I have over you."

"But this is seduction," he argued, his breath quickening as her caress lightened. "Seduction is cheating. I could just as easily seduce you."

"Hmm, really," she cooed, settling herself a little higher on his lap, her hands slowly massaging the tense muscles of his chest and abs. "I'm not so sure. How's your head feeling?"

"To be honest, I hadn't noticed."

Her hands traveled back up his body before raking through his hair, burying in the long golden locks. Her thumbs pressed into his temples, her fingers working just as diligently as she gently massaged the dulling ache from his head.

He sighed, his body sagging and falling limp, his head ducking forward against her breast. His forehead pressed to her chest, he moaned his relief. "My God, I didn't know you could do this."

Trish smiled warmly, placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. "You better hope you don't get any blood on my shirt."

He chuckled, wrapping his arm around her waist to pull her closer, pillowing his head on her breast. "I love you."

"I love you too," she responded, kissing his hair once and then one more time. "Relax. Shhh," she rocked him slightly, adoring the thought that she could offer him such comfort. Slowly, the tension fled his body and she kissed his head again at the sound of his soft and gentle snoring.

Lita winced, clenching her teeth as she shifted her weight on the couch in her den. Her leg immobilized, the stiff cast was more of a burden than a help. She wanted independence. She was not one to be doted upon, to have everything done for her. And yet with this ridiculous injury, there was nothing she could do on her own.

She felt foolish, being so dependent on those around her and it flared her anger as those thoughts raced through her mind.

"Is there anything else you need?"

Lita glanced to the den doorway, her expression still stern and unwavering. "I'm fine."

Kane nodded, approaching her. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"As fine as I'm going to be." She partially snapped back. She shook her head, scolding herself for being so bitter. There was no reason for her to snap at him. "I'm sorry," she sighed, averting her eyes from the big man she had learned to call 'husband'.

"It's fine," he responded, kneeling down beside her and cocking his head to look in her eyes. "I understand you're frustrated. I hate being on the sidelines, feeling that I can't do anything and no one else understands exactly what it is I'm going through. But I've been there and now that you're there ... well I understand. I don't know if that comforts you, but ... I understand."

She smiled genuinely.

He smiled too, his grin was slightly crooked and his eyes slanted slightly. "Now are you sure there's nothing I can get you? Maybe a cup of tea?"

Lita felt a sudden wave of warmth flood her senses. He wasn't the most attractive man but he seemed to care. He'd protected her honor on many occasions; he defended her and still spoke to her and respected her despite the loss of their child. Kane had done more for her than any man she ever knew. "A cup of tea would be nice."

Kane smiled and stood, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her brow. "A cup of tea it is."

Trish nudged the man in her arms quite gently. "Chris," she hushed, easing his head back from her chest and holding him carefully in her hands. She smiled, slowly shaking her head. She couldn't believe he was still asleep. "Baby, wake up, before you get stiff."

"Mmm," he moaned, refusing to open his eyes and a small smile slipped onto his face as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. His head pillowed on her breast again, he snuggled into her. "I don't wanna wake up. Stiff or no."

Chuckling, she pushed his head back again, this time making sure he ended up back against the couch, his head resting on the soft cushions. His head rocking to the side as he gazed at her with the most tender affection. He simply could not mask the emotion so soon after sleep.

He licked his lips, his smile tugging at the corners of his mouth and he caressed a steady hand along her sides and waist.

She rolled her eyes, playfully swatting his hands away. He was always so frisky whenever he woke up and though she loved how gentle and tender his desires were in this mood, she was not about to indulge in his sweetness.

"Deny me, woman?" he teased then stuck his lower lip out in a pout, his eyes wide and filled with delicious yearning. "What if I give you this look?"

"That look rarely works on me," she quipped back. "And yes, even when you really turn it on." She paused, looking away from him. "Stop that. You look so pitiful." She pressed her lips tightly together. "It's not working."

"I think it is," he drawled, his hands squeezing her slender waist. "Just one little kiss? Please? Don't make me beg."

"You're already begging, Babe." She laughed, wiggling from his grasp and trying to pull away.

But he wouldn't release her. His smile spread across his face, his eyes sparkling with the warmest mischief. "I'll keep begging. And if you think I'm letting you go ..."

She stilled, cocking her head as her eyes narrowed. "What's wrong?"

His face dropped. "Wha ... huh?"

"I know you," She said. "I know you, Chris. And you ... there's something wrong. I can feel it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he quickly responded, turning his eyes away from her and pushing her from his lap. Standing, he walked away from her, keeping his back to her gaze.

"If nothing was wrong, you wouldn't have closed up and run away like you just did."

He did not respond.

"Chris."

He squared his shoulders, unwilling to turn to face her.

"Chris, God damn it!" she spat, stamping to his back as she tapped him harshly on the back. "Look at me."

He sniffed hard, controlling every feature and every breath. "There's nothing to see."

Stiffening, she removed her hand from him. His tone was laced with a chill, a death she had never wished to hear. So cold, so withdrawn. It was not his voice, not the sound she was used to hearing from his throat. It scared her. Unable to respond in any way, she clenched her teeth, pressing her lips tightly together as she stormed out of the locker room.

Chris sighed when the door slammed behind her, his shoulders sagging and his body drawn. Shaking his head, he approached the full size mirror at the opposite end of the locker room. He was surprised she didn't notice the dark circles under his eyes or the weariness in his figure.

Licking his lips, he tried to stare into his own eyes, reading any emotion that lay within. "I thought I hid it well. God, I had never rested like I did just now." He sighed again. He yearned to go to her again, to cuddle into her arms and let sleep take him for days. But she would not let that happen, not now. Not when she knew something was wrong.

How could he tell her about these dreams? He didn't want to frighten her. No, he would not tell her. Maybe it would be best to get his own hotel room for the night.

(Short one, but don't worry, next weeks will be fun)