She felt off somehow. She couldn't explain it in detail, but she definitely felt off. She hated to admit it to herself, but she had gotten used to being with Chris. She had gotten used to being around him, and talking to him, and now…she just wasn't. Her plan had backfired, and now she had nothing and nobody, and it all seemed in vain.

She missed his arm. She missed the way he would drape his arm across her stomach while he slept. She missed the extra weight that it gave her, and the feeling of his warmth across her midsection. She missed having it there to touch and to caress and to just be there as a constant reminder that she wasn't as alone as she had sometimes felt.

After their final scene together, they had not spoken to each other, per Chris's request. She had to respect his wishes, after she had hurt him so badly. But she still missed him, and it both confused and angered her. She shouldn't be missing him, not after what she had done to him. She had so blatantly used him, and that made her angry with herself for getting so attached to something she had no intention of ever pursuing.

She had even woken up this morning, thinking that he would be there, watching her. It wasn't a creepy kind of watching, but just kind of a wonder that he expressed. Thinking back now, it was probably in awe that he was actually with her. She remembered that he had said something to that affect; that he was shocked that he had actually been with her. She should've been shocked that he was with HER.

She didn't deserve Chris's love, she never had. He was too good a guy for her, and she regretted that she had hurt him so bad. She'd like to plead temporary insanity for thinking a stupid plan would somehow work out for the best, but she couldn't even do that much. She had been a selfish fool; she had seen something she wanted, and like the little girl that she had been for so long, she thought it would be easy to grab. She had gotten everything that she wanted for so long that she thought she was entitled to Dave, by any means necessary.

Those means brought her to Chris, and she didn't know why she thought that he wouldn't get his feelings hurt. She had used him, like he was a pawn in a game that she was playing, and in essence and execution, that's exactly what he was. He was just a pawn in her sick, twisted game. She had de-humanized him, made him an object that she thought she could use to her advantage and never think about once her plan was over. But it hadn't ended up like that.

Chris had feelings, and his feelings had been hurt, and she was the only one to blame. Chris had never treated her anything but wonderfully and she had, in response, treated him like he was nothing. And nothing could take away the hurt that she felt for treating him like she did. Nothing was going to heal that pain because she knew that nothing could make up for that. Nothing could make up for the fact that she had taken his feelings and twisted them.

"Stephanie."

She looked up and saw her brother sitting in front of her, and she vaguely wondered how long he had been standing there. She didn't recall hearing the door, or his footsteps, or the three times that he cleared his throat. She barely saw him now, her eyes squinted from staring at the small type of her documents for so long. She words had been swimming in front her face, but she had all but ignored them, instead getting lost in her thoughts.

"Yeah?" she asked, not even trying to fake the pretense of being jovial.

"What's up?" he said, trying to start off with an easy question that she wouldn't get too upset with, or try to elude.

"Working," she said shortly, trying to look back down at the page, but finding the words still too small and too jumbled for her tired brain to comprehend.

"Are you ok?" Shane said, kneeling in front of her desk and leaning his arms across it, trying to look into her dark, soulless eyes. She evaded his look, staring at the wall. People asked that question frequently, and all over the world. Was anyone really ok? Could anyone go through their daily lives and say that everything was ok? Why did people ask such a stupid question? It brought her no comfort, and she hated the responses that she was forced to give.

"Do I not look ok?" she asked, answering a question with a question and Shane sighed at the old tactic.

"No, you don't look ok. You haven't looked ok since you and Chris broke up. Mom and Dad actually wanted me to come here and talk to you about it. That's how worried they both are about you."

"So they sent their lackey," she said bitterly.

"We've just noticed…"

"Noticed that I broke up with Chris. What tipped you off? The fact that we aren't together anymore? I mean, really, was that the big surprise?"

"Stephanie, you haven't been the same. What happened between you and Chris? Did he say something, did he cheat on you?"

"Oh, if only it were that easy," Stephanie spat out, wishing that she could go back and not make Chris hurt, to not extinguish that light from his eyes, and crush his heart like it was a bug on the floor in front of her.

"So he did do something? I knew it, I knew that he wasn't your type. He's too loud for you, I always thought he was too loud for you. Not that he's a bad guy, just not who I pictured you with." Shane was actually friends with Chris, so he felt comfortable in saying that, though Stephanie knew it was a lie. She had overheard Shane discussing how awesome it was that Chris was dating Stephanie, and how he was totally and completely behind this relationship.

"Liar," she said good-naturedly, catching the embarrassed glance from Shane. "You loved that I was with him."

"Ok, so I was glad. But really, what happened?"

"If I told you, you would lose all respect for me, and you would probably go to Chris and congratulate him on getting away from me," she told him honestly.

"I don't think so," Shane said. "You're my sister, I'm obligated to love you. It's the McMahon way."

Stephanie wondered if telling someone would make it better or make it worse. She figured it would be worse because she would come across as the most disgusting human being on the face of the Earth. She was a disgusting human being though, for treating Chris the way she had. She deserved the scorn and accusations from her peers because she had sunk to the lowest of the low. She deserved to go to hell for what she had done.

"I never wanted to be with Chris," Stephanie said bluntly, not holding back now.

"Come again?" Shane said, confused by her sudden statement.

"I didn't," she shrugged helplessly. "I was using him, the entire time, I was using him for my own personal gains."

"Stephanie, what are you babbling about? You were with the guy for months."

"To try and get Dave Batista to fall for me. I wanted Dave to get jealous, to notice me, and they always say that a guy starts to notice a girl when she's taken, and I was taken, and Dave noticed me. Chris, he told me he liked me, and I saw that opportunity to make Dave jealous, so I told Chris I'd be with him, not in so many words, but there were actions," she said, ranting now, "But then when I started going out with him, I saw how much he liked me, and I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want him to be sad over me, because I didn't deserve it. I'm wretched, and stupid, and a horrible, horrible person. And then he told me he loved me, and I couldn't do it anymore, I couldn't let him go on thinking that I was all in, or even really in the relationship, because I wanted Dave, I wanted to be with Dave, and I was using Chris. And I hurt him, and he's hurting because of me, and I did that. And I deserve everything I get for this. I'm hell-bound."

Shane sat in surprised silence as Stephanie let out the whole sordid tale. He didn't know what to say to her. He was angry with her though, he knew that much. She was hurting, but he was angry all the same. She had no right to treat someone like that, to use someone so blatantly for her own desires. Shane had seen Chris, and seen the way that he looked at Stephanie, and Stephanie had been using him.

"Stephanie, I didn't know you would be capable of doing such a thing," Shane said, and she could hear the disappointment a mile away.

"Please, hate me," she told him, nodding her head. "I deserve it. I deserve to be hated."

"You do," he agreed, and she wasn't even shocked. She knew that she should be hated, by everyone. Because everyone loved Chris, and she deserved to be hated. "But I don't hate you."

"No, you really should," she responded.

"What you did was terrible, but I think you're being punished enough," Shane said. "Look at yourself, you're torn up about it, I can tell."

She looked down at her wrinkled clothes, not even caring that she didn't match, or that she was wearing two different colored socks. "I know, I hurt him. I took the light away from him, and I never thought it would hurt this bad."

"Why are you hurting Stephanie? Is it because of what you did to him? Or is it because you miss him?"

"I miss his arm," she said, finally breaking down and hunching over in her chair, her face being covered by her two hands with the nail polish chipping. She had not cared enough to get another manicure. What Shane saw was not his sister, but a woman who was torn apart. Her hair was ratty and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail, but with hair escaping everywhere. Her t-shirt was old, and looked like it had a hole in the shoulder, and her jeans were worn and faded. Her earrings didn't match, and her face was removed of makeup.

"You miss his arm?"

Stephanie nodded from behind her hands, her voice muffled and broken, "He would always sleep with his arm across my waist, and I got used to it. I got so used to it, and before I'd go to bed, he would just be talking and I would just caress his arm, and…I…I miss his arm."

She wasn't crying. She didn't deserve to cry, but on the inside, her stomach was clenching, and her heart was aching. She still didn't expect this to hurt so much. She thought that first night had been hard, lying in that bed alone, the one he had occupied with her earlier that evening, but every subsequent night had been hard as well. She didn't have his lingering cologne, or his warmth on the sheets, but that almost made it worse because she didn't have anything to cling to.

It was at this time that Shane knew she needed her big brother; hell, she just needed someone who would see that she was hurting over this too. He got up and crossed the desk, kneeling down again next to her chair. He swiveled it to face him and took his little sister into his arms. She seemed fragile, a girl of seven again, the one that he had seen fall off her bike and cry, running into the house and vowing that she was going to throw the bike into the street and never ride again. She was that girl again, and she needed her big brother. He rubbed the back of her head, holding her and trying to comfort her, but she was beyond comfort.

Stephanie clung to her brother, the only person in the world who could possibly comfort her right now. He was always a good brother, had threatened to beat up anyone for her when they were younger, and willing to send any wrestler out to help her when they were older. But nothing was going to stop this hurt from happening. Nothing was going to stop this ache in her heart because it was her fault, and she couldn't reconcile with herself.

"Stephy girl," he said, using his pet name for her. "Don't be sad."

"I can't help it," she said softly. "I miss his arm."

"I think you miss all of him," Shane said just as softly. "Why don't you talk to him about this?"

"I can't, I made a promise. I told him I'd never speak to him again, and he told me that would be for the best."

"He was probably trying to-"

"No Shane, he doesn't want to speak to me ever again," she told him. "And I have to respect those wishes because I hurt him, because I'm a wretched, wretched person."

"You're not wretched," he said, smoothing down some of her hair. "You're just…you're immature. You thought that this was the only way to get what you wanted."

"You have a way with words Shane McMahon, but you're a bad liar. I'm wretched," she said, a teary laugh, despite the no tears coming from her eyes.

"I still think that you should talk to him. Stephanie," he paused, letting out a breath slowly. "You are immature on some level, and your self-awareness is definitely lacking, because this looks to me like you want Chris, and I'm not talking about using him or anything. I think that you want Chris in every sense of the word. I think that you…I think you were invested in that relationship."

"No, I wasn't. Every time I saw Dave, I was trying to be all over him, flirting, and what not. I wanted Dave the entire time."

Shane pursed his lips and then looked at the top of her head, sorting out the words and images he was conjuring up, "Chris had a big match against…Hunter, I believe it was. He was jumping around anxiously and you kept telling him to calm down, that everything would be great, and he would be great. He kept jumping around. You took his hand, grinned and then kissed him until he forgot about his anxiety."

"That's a nice story, I wish it had happened," Stephanie said amusedly, or about as amused as she could muster at the moment.

"It did," Shane told her. "Like a month ago."

"Then I must've been drunk or something."

"I hardly think you were drunk. I think you just wanted him to calm down. I think that you want him."

"I want Dave," she said stubbornly.

"Fine Stephanie, you want Dave, and if that's the case, why do you look like you haven't slept in a week?"

"I told you, I miss his-"

"Yeah, yeah, his arm, you miss his arm, but he kind of comes attached to that arm, you know. Why haven't you been sleeping, really? Are you lonely? And if you are lonely, are you wanting for Chris, or are you wanting for Dave?"

"I've wanted Dave for so long, he's been this dream for me, and I think he does like me, everything he's been telling me, and the way he's been acting towards me. I think that I have a real shot."

Shane sighed. Obviously Stephanie was still very much a little girl, a naïve, simple-minded, little girl. She couldn't see why she was so upset, still thinking that what she dreamed of was what she really wanted. Shane knew he couldn't push her to see what was right there, but he had to try. He saw what this was doing to his little sister, and he wanted her to gain that foresight, to know what was right and what was not so right.

"Fine, if that's the way that you feel, try to go after Dave, and then see what happens. See if you're happy with him," Shane told her. "See if he's everything that you've always wanted. But Stephanie, I'm not holding my breath that that's going to happen."

"But I want him, I love him, I'm in love with him, he just doesn't know it!" she exclaimed, a fire coming back to her. So very, very naïve.

"And yet you miss Chris's arm," Shane said.

"Would you shut up about Chris!" Stephanie said, getting up rather abruptly. "Chris hates me, and he should, and anything I've felt for him, it's over! He hates me, he would never want me again! It doesn't even matter if I love him or not!"

Shane raised an eyebrow and looked her dead in the eye, "So you ARE in love with him."

Stephanie scoffed, "No, I said if I was in love with him, which I'm not. Look, I'm respecting his wishes Shane, I'm respecting the decision that he made not to see me again, or talk to me again. I respect those wishes now, and I will in the future."

"Ok, if you say so."

"Don't tell me if I say so!" Stephanie said. "I need some fresh air…and I don't love Chris!"

"I get that," Shane said.

Stephanie ran out of the room, and ignoring the way she looked, she wandered up and down the hallways, going nowhere and everywhere in particular. She had no set path, no just cause for deciding to turn right instead of left, or backwards instead of forwards, she was just walking, like she had someone chasing her, like the halls were a labyrinth and she was trying to escape the great monster that was coming for her.

But then the monster snuck up on her in the most unexpected and heart wrenching way as she saw him standing there, laughing and…looking incredible. Chris was there, Chris was right there, and if she moved a couple feet forward, he would be able to reach, and he would wrap his arm around her waist and she would feel like she wasn't empty and she wasn't the most wicked, horrible, detestable human being in the entire world. She would feel his comforting arm, and his comforting presence, and she wouldn't look so gaunt and her face wouldn't look so sullen, and her eyes wouldn't look like she hadn't slept in years, and she wouldn't look like…well, like she did right now.

And then she noticed the laughing could've been attached to flirting because he was standing in front of Lita, who was newly single herself, now that the separation from Matt had been too permanent. And Lita had her hand on his arm, squeezing it gently. Stephanie's first thought, and the only thought that rang through her brain was the fact that, that was her arm. Chris's arm was HER'S and not Lita's to touch and caress and hold.

Chris looked up briefly and caught sight of Stephanie looking at him, and it was seriously the first time he had taken a moment to look at her in the weeks since they had broken up, or as he thought of it, as her plan had failed, because to him, now, there was no relationship, and he knew no Stephanie McMahon, and she had not tugged on his heartstrings, and she was non-existent in his universe. He'd all but ignored her presence, never looking at her, not once.

He should've…or maybe he shouldn't have because what he sees is something he didn't expect.

She looks like she's been hit by a bus, been in a coma for five years, and just came running in after waking up. And he wants to go to her, that much he can process, but Lita is there, and Stephanie is not a part of his life anymore, and she has not talked to him, nor him to her, and that's the way that it had to be. Even though he thinks she's wearing a shirt with holes in it, something he didn't think her capable of. And he notices her arm has wrapped around her stomach, like she needed the weight there, or something odd like that. He tries to look away and finally forces himself to look away and back to Lita.

"So Lita," Chris said, his voice rising a little, "About that date?"

"You in?"

"I'm in," he said to her, knowing that Stephanie could hear, and in some perverse way, he wants her to hear. He wants to prove that he can make it without her.

Little did he know that Stephanie was having a hard time making it without him.