The guerilla area is always the worst place to wait before any match. You're right there, the last place before the stage. You hear everything. I was told I had to wait in the back for a bit, Amy was going out. The thought of us in such a tiny space together made everyone nervous. So I waited just outside it. Jeff limped his way to me.
"You shouldn't be here," I told him. "Get into the room they set aside for you and rest."
"I had to see you before you went out there," he told me. His voice was a whisper. "If at all possible, be careful."
I smiled. "I don't think that's an option."
"I'll save you a bed in my room, we'll go to the hospital together."
"It's a date," I replied with a laugh.
"Destiny," he paused and I looked at him. "For whatever it's worth, I'm sorry."
I couldn't respond, it was my turn to get ready and he was heading back. I took a deep breath and threw my belts over my shoulders again. The sound guy counted back and hit the button that would play my music. I waited a few measures before going out. I don't think I breathed for those few seconds.
The lights blinded my eyes for a moment when I stepped out. I could barely hear my music playing over the screaming fans. I stood at the top of the ramp with my head down. My legs couldn't move. I counted back from five, and shot my head up and began to bounce around. I could barely see Amy inside the cage. I took my time walking down the ramp, taking it all in. I stopped right before the cage and stood there, looking in, looking at Amy. I saw fear all over her face.
The ref took my Women's Title and held it up then opened the door of the cage. I looked up the stairs and then walked in. The door locked behind me, there was no going back now. The bell rang and it was time.
Stare down.
It's the only way I can think of starting a match of this magnitude. There is so much to take in, it's the only thing you can do.
I shoved her first, and then she shoved me back. I then Irish-whipped her into the cage. The match began. Once she got up, Amy came charging after me, spearing me into the cage. Once I hit the cage, I rammed right into her and onto the floor we went at it. The hair pulling, rolling around, chick fight stuff. Except we punch instead of slap. I went to punch Amy right in her face, and she moved her head and my hand in canvas. I screamed.
She was able to roll away and we stood up. In my mind cages were always a device of unlimited possibilities. So many ways to pull yourself up and let yourself go, so many ways to get hurt. Steel fence surrounds the ring, and it doesn't give too much. I love the critics who say it's all fake. It is, to a degree. We know how to take hits, we know how to do this with the least amount of pain. Steel is steel, and no training can teach you how to take that hit. You take it. My face took it.
Amy grabbed me by the hair and slammed my face into the cage a few times. I countered her last attempt and did the same to her. No blood just yet. As she was regaining herself, I climbed onto the ropes and balanced myself on the top one, using the cage. When she turned around, I was able to get a Corkscrew Moonsault off, perfectly. That was the first real pop of the match.
My hand still stung, but I tweaked my back doing that move. It was only the beginning of the match. I rolled off her holding my lower back. I had plenty of crazy moves still planned. This match was too important to blow on a tweaked back, there was no way I could give up or back out. If I was almost dead, I'd still have to fight. Not finishing was not an option.
Most of our match took place in the air. Amy and I both had that ability, and I wasn't going to waste it. The match really picked up about half way through. Amy had tried a Twist Of Fate on me, that was booed by the crowd. I countered it with a kick to her stomach, and then my own Twist Of Fate that was cheered. I began to climb. About half way up, she met me with punches to my lower back. Not the perfect thing for it, but she didn't know, and I honestly doubt if she cared. I was able to kick her a few times then wrap my legs around her neck. Huricanranna. My back didn't like it, but the crowd did. A lot.
The both of us rolled on the matt for a while before getting up. Amy threw me into the cage, my face hit the bar. The very top of my nose hit it, my eyes teared. Instinctively, I put my hands to my nose, to check for blood. There was. First bloodshed of the match. Amy's next move was a backdrop. I knew it too, but was still unprepared. I was thrown off by my nose. So, I didn't tuck my head like I was supposed to, and it bounced off the canvas. I only know that from seeing it on TV. There was a good few seconds where I was blacked out.
Blacking out is a strange experience. There are moments in your life you lose. Gone, completely gone and you'll never get them back. Most, and normal people, find this a scary fact. Me, I find it refreshing. Pieces of my life gone, vanished. Something out of my control. There are few things in life completely out of our control, and that humbles me.
Anyway, once I regained myself, I saw Amy climbing out of the cage. She had to have done something to only be half way up. She was supposed to be. At least she was following what I had written. I got up and hit her in the back this time. Facing her, I lifted her up and put her legs on my shoulders for a power bomb. It was a hard power bomb. I felt it. I stumbled back and leaned on the ropes. When Amy stood up, I dropped kicked her back down. It was the best dropkick I had ever done. Only one photographer caught the move, and he gave me the picture. It's framed.
The match began to pick up after my perfect dropkick. I thought I would feel so much different in that match. I thought I would feel hate, anger, I didn't. I was more afraid of it going right, like I had planned it. Also, images of what Jeff looked like ran through my head. So much was leading up to this match I was just relieved that we were doing it. My planning was paying off. I was almost sad that it'd soon be over. All of that just for twenty minutes. It's really amazing.
Amy and I were both on top of the cage. Punches going back and forth. I shoved Amy off. I stood up, I could get out, but I'm not supposed to. I stood up, the crowd stood with me. I took a deep breath and looked below. Live for the moment.
"For you, Jeff," I spoke under my breath for no one to hear.
It was for him, in a way. I end this with Amy and concentrate on getting our relationship back, in anyway I can. I put my arms out, showed the guns, something I hadn't done since everything happened. I don't remember jumping. I just let myself go and fell. I heard nothing, saw nothing on the way down. I remember hitting her, my shoulder blades hitting her chest. My back and legs slammed onto the canvas, my head tucked in as best as I could. The next thing I remember is a sharp pain shooting down the left side of my body, from my lower back to my knee. I couldn't move.
Amy was first to her feet, and she grabbed me by my hair. I stood up, but had no idea how. She scoop slammed me down and went to the top rope. She hit me with the Moonsault. She knocked the wind our of herself. I heard her gasping for air.
"I'll take a moment before I get up," I told her. "Lay still."
She nodded. I slowly got to my feet. I could see Amy getting better, so I picked her up. I got her in a head lock.
"Ok now?" I asked.
"Yes, thank you," she answered.
Irish whip, right to the cage. I walked over and took her face and smushed it into the cage, then ran it down the side, ripping into her face. We were bruised about the face, just not so bloody. That changed. Amy used her elbow to break the hold, then did the same to me. In an odd way, the cold steel and the ripping of my flesh felt good. The last droplets of blood I'll ever spill for Amy.
I think it was my adrenaline that was the reason I could function. The pain was dulled some, and I knew once I came down, it would strike me hard. My left foot was beginning to go numb and I limped. I had to be fast, I had to be quick, but it was so hard when I could barely move. My body was telling me to stop, but my heart was telling me otherwise.
I knew what everyone was like backstage, all of those who cared about me. I knew the looks on their faces and the feelings in their stomachs. I have that feeling before, I was still having it from Jeff's match. His blood stained the canvas. I know Paul was barely able to stay seated, I know he was shaking, and I knew no one would be able to calm him down. I know Matt was, as he was during Jeff's match, perfectly still, looking into the TV. I knew Jay was pacing around the room, wishing he was able to turn away from what he was watching, but knowing he couldn't. I knew Stephanie would be by her husband's side, trying to calm him while staying calm herself. I knew Adam was still squatted down, hands to his face, shocked. I knew Chris was standing by him, watching in awe, unable to utter the thoughts in his mind. I knew what they were all doing. And Jeff, I knew he was worried, I felt it. I knew it was hard for him to sit in that room, alone, with one person watching him, someone he didn't know, and watch this, knowing he couldn't help, knowing the pain I was feeling couldn't be comforted by him. I didn't have to see them to know what they were doing. I already knew.
Amy's Huricanranna from the top rope did nothing for my back. I let out a blood curling scream, one I felt throughout my body, and knew everyone else did. It was full of sheer terror and pain, and I began to cry. Something inside me shot out, and I began to scream, pounding my fist against the canvas. I had rolled onto my stomach one hand on my back and the other pounding into the canvas. I had never showed anything like this in the ring before. I had never felt anything like this before. The fear I tried to hold down since the first tweak was coming up, and fast. The numbness in my foot not reached my knee, and my screaming became more and more about my fears than the pain.
Amy rolled her way to me, she honestly looked scared.
"What do you want me to do?" she asked me.
"Give me a moment, start climbing, when you get half way up, I'll be ok. Another power bomb?"
"Ok," she replied.
I can't explain what these small conversations were about. I watched her climb, and when she was half way up, I was ready. I suppressed everything and relied on my mind to block it all out. I barely had the strength to lift her up. I slammed her down, with a scream. We kicked right back into the match. Right from Chris Jericho's move book, I did a Lionsault. When I rolled off Amy I hit the canvas with my fist again. It hurt.
I looked up and saw the cage walls towering above me. I felt very small and very insignificant at that very moment. I looked at Amy laying beside me, breathing heavy and in pain as well. And at that moment I began to think, was all of this worth it? Was it worth our bodies and our lives to end a feud? The very question I had been asked for months and denied was now in my head. I then looked around at all of the fans, and knew it was. I thought about Jeff and knew it was. I thought about my son and knew it was. Anything was worth it, to end this, start over.
I slowly got to my feet, each movement sending shooting pains throughout my body, but I knew I had to. Amy got up too, and we stared at each other. It was written, or planned, it just happened. I saw in her a broken woman, lost. I saw hate and pain. I knew this was something she wanted, that she too couldn't go on doing this anymore. The crowd began to cheer and scream, and we looked around. They didn't really know that this was it. We did, and in a way, I was sad, and I knew she was too.
We started the match again, I shoved Amy into the cage. She came back and I clotheslinded her down. I picked her up and she countered, she ran back, bounced off the ropes, and came flying back at me, knocking me down. She then started to climb, the final climb. I started up after her, knowing what was going to happen, and being completely terrified.