The Emancipation of Trish Stratus
A/N: No real note this time - just a disclaimer. They're not mine. That's it.
Not for the first time, Trish was wishing that she had a match scheduled for the night. Before it was just so she could get in the ring and do some work. But now she really wanted to do some damage. She wanted to envision Hunter in that ring, holding her personal property, and demanding to know who she was writing about. And she wanted to hurt that person, whoever was unlucky enough to step between the ropes and into the squared circle with her that night.
She heard the screams of the crowd as the show kicked off, and she joined them. Shouting, she buried her fist into the nearest wall and then kicked it for good measure.
"I'm assuming that was meant for me," came a small voice from behind her.
She didn't turn – didn't think she could look at him right then. "I really don't wanna talk to you right now," she sighed, closing her eyes and wishing that he would go away.
Hunter watched as she sank to the floor, her knees pulled up to her chest, and then sat beside her. "You don't have to talk to me," he assured her, looking around to make sure they were alone. "I'm sorry I went through your stuff, okay? It's just that I worry about you, and you haven't really seemed yourself lately."
She didn't want to hear that tone in his voice – the one that said he was the old Hunter, the one that she trusted and respected more than just about everyone on the planet. "Look how you react," she started to reason with him. "I mean, is there any reason I should have told you what was going on? What with you flailing around and calling me a whore?"
He cringed at the sound of his words coming back to bite his ass. "I shouldn't have said it. It just – seeing those things you wrote – it set me off," he smiled sheepishly. "I know you may find this hard to believe, but I'm known for having kind of a short fuse sometimes."
"So I've heard," she smiled slightly, nudging his arm with her shoulder. "Listen, I know you feel this need to protect me, but I'm a big girl, Hunter. I know what I'm doing, okay? Just trust me on it."
He nodded and stood, offering her his hand. "Fine – ya know what? I trust you, Trish. I mean, if this guy makes you as happy as that letter made you sound, I'm sure he's great, right?"
They began to walk back toward the main hallway as Trish felt the bounce returning to her step. "He's amazing," she sighed.
"Great," Hunter responded, watching his feet as they walked. "So, maybe we should invite him into Evolution? I mean, it wouldn't be so bad to have another trusted guy around to protect my title, right?"
Trish's blood ran cold as she stopped in the middle of the hall. "What?" she asked, her brain going numb.
He turned, a look of complete, innocent ignorance on his face. "What? You said, in the letter, that he was one of the best wrestlers today. I just thought we could teach him a thing or two, make him even better."
"Bull shit," she spat, her eyes narrowing as she placed her hands on her hips. "This is not about me at all, is it? If you read that letter, then you know he wants your title. This whole thing," she motioned around her, "this apology thing was just to bring him close enough to keep an eye on him, wasn't it?"
"It's about making sure that you don't get hurt," he spoke evenly, but Trish could tell that he was struggling.
"It's never been about me!" Her voice rose as she pointed a finger his way. "NEVER!" The realization hit her like a truck as she felt her stomach churn. She trusted him – loved him like her brother. And all that time, when she thought he was doing the same, returning the affection? He was using her. "Batista said it, when he left you guys behind. The only thing you care about is that belt around your waist. You will lie, cheat, steal, and manipulate anyone who cares about you to keep it there, won't you?" Her eyes grew wide. "That's why you took Orton back. Because you know he'll go for your blessedbelt if he's not a part of Evolution. You're scared of him."
Hunter put his hands on his hips. If it were possible for smoke to truly billow out of someone's ears, it would have been rolling out of his. "You listen to me carefully, Trish. I didn't get into this business to make friends. The people that are close to me, are not close to me accidentally. I have always told you, since day one, you are the only one looking out for you in this business. Watch your back, and don't trust anybody," he hissed.
"I've got some advice for you now, Hunter." She shook her head and moved toward him, her hand raised. "What you want, can be taken from you," she sneered. For a second, he thought about ducking as she aimed for his head. But, at the last second, her hand dropped, struck the gold on his hips, and sent the belt crashing to the floor. Silence followed the echo of metal on concrete as Trish raised an eyebrow and put her hand on her hip. "That quick."
And she was gone. He watched her, daggers shooting from his eyes, but Trish never noticed. She was already formulating a plan of her own. If she had anything to say about it, Triple H would curse the day he ever took Trish Stratus under his wing.