It Ends Tonight

"Do you hear me, Lita? I don't want to have to repeat myself…I hate repeating myself. I hate having to tell people to do things over and over again. Over and over again…over and over again…" he muttered to himself as he began to pace around the locker room. Lita watched him with wide eyes, wondering if this was going to be her one and only chance to escape, to run, to find help. She began slowly inching towards the locked door, but before she could take three steps, he was standing before her again, a twisted smile on his lips, his eyes glinting menacingly as he stared at her. "And where do you think you're going?" he asked in a dangerously low voice. "I hope you weren't planning on leaving so soon. We've barely even gotten started…" he intoned as he began advancing towards her slowly, deliberately, his eyes never wavering, his movements purposeful, his twisted grin never faltering. He began to hum some strange tune, one she had never heard before, as he slowly approached her. Lita's eyes never left the knife he was holding in his hand, as she tried to move away from him, as she willed the wall to give way so she could escape, as she silently prayed that some one, any one, would realize she was missing and come looking for her. However, that was only a small glimmer of hope, one that was quickly dashed as he finally reached her, pinning her against the wall, dragging the knife down the front of her flimsy t-shirt…

Randy's Locker Room

Randy sat on the leather couch in his locker room going over the various spots he and Shawn had just talked about. He really wanted this to be a good match, really wanted to make an impact – after all, he was tagging with HBK, the Heartbreak Kid. Running his hands through his brown hair, he leaned back against the plush cushions and closed his eyes for a moment, his mind drifting away from his match and turning, instead, to a certain redheaded diva. She was all he could think about. He found himself, more and more, zoning out during conversations with friends and colleagues, his thoughts always turning to her – her smile, those eyes that held so much fear and, at the same time, so much hope and passion, the way her hand felt in his, how she made him feel like he was the most important person in her world. Randy smiled thinking back to earlier in the day, before they had left for the arena, when they had simply laid together on the bed in Lita's hotel room, talking about everything and nothing. Rarely had he actually spent time talking to a woman, getting to know them. But with Lita it was different. She was different. He had too much respect for her, too much love, to simply use her and then cast her aside like he had so many others.

Randy was broken from his thoughts, when the door to his locker room swung open and Trish came to stand in the doorway. He stood up, annoyed that she was interrupting him, and looked at her through questioning eyes.

"Doesn't anyone knock anymore? What if I was standing here naked?" he asked, glaring at the blonde diva as he stood up to grab a bottle of water from the mini-fridge in the corner of the locker room. Trish just rolled her eyes, giving him a small, worried smile. Randy watched her for a moment – noticed how she was fidgeting about, wringing her hands – and placed the bottle of water on the counter, and waited for her to say something.

"Like you would mind," she retorted. "But that's beside the point. Have you seen Lita? She was supposed to meet me in Victoria and Molly's locker room like twenty minutes ago…" Trish said, starting to bite her bottom lip. Her concern, her worry, was increasing by the second, especially when she took note of Randy's expression. He looked terrified – his eyes were wide, his hands were now clenched into fists at his side, and he had started pacing around the locker room.

"Did you check her locker room? Maybe she just got caught up with something. Or catering? Did you look in catering?" he asked. His mind was going a mile a minute, trying to process what Trish had just told him, trying to think of any place Lita could have wandered off to alone, trying to think…"Did you check Eric's office? Maybe she got called into a meeting?"

Trish just shook her head. She had looked everywhere for the redheaded diva, but had been unable to find her. It wasn't like Lita to simply wander off on her own, especially these past couple of months. She always seemed to be with at least one other person when she was at the arenas – at least when she hadn't locked herself away in her locker room. "I haven't seen her Randy…" she murmured, watching the man standing before her becoming more and more agitated. He had stopped his pacing, and was now standing in the center of the room looking completely lost, unsure of what to do or what to say. Trish had known there was something going on between her best friend and the third generation superstar, but now she also knew that it went much deeper than simply two people who had fallen for each other. Randy knew something about the redheaded diva and Trish wanted to know what secret Lita had been hiding all these months. "Randy what do you know? What do you know that you're not telling me?" she asked.

"Everything. Too much…" he whispered, his voice slightly shaking. Before Trish could stop him, he had swung around, punching his fist through the locker room wall. Wincing in pain, he pulled back and cradled his now bleeding hand against his chest. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "I-I can't tell you. But Trish we have to find her…we have to find her," he said looking at her helplessly.

Trish stood mesmerized for a moment, watching the young man who she had always thought to be so brash, so cocky, so arrogant, falling apart in front of her. It was a completely different reaction than she had expected, one that she was not prepared for. Almost involuntarily, her hand reached out, coming to rest on Randy's arm. "We'll find her Randy. We'll find her. Let's go get Stacy and Dave and they can help us look."

The Empty Locker Room

Lita closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath, moving to cover herself as her t-shirt fell open to his prying eyes. She tried to fight the tears that were threatening to spill from her hazel eyes. Grabbing a hold of her hair, he began to drag her across the room, away from the door, away from the wall, away from any hope of anyone finding her – or saving her. She was alone. Completely and utterly alone and this manic seemed determined to turn her world upside down, to make her nightmare of the past few months reality once again.

Upon reaching the far corner of the room, he pushed her down on the floor. After watching her for a moment, he began to talk to himself, pacing around the locker room. Lita backed quickly against the wall and drew her knees up to her chest, trying to get as far away from him as possible. A fruitless task she knew, but she had to do something, anything. She felt like she was suffocating, like she couldn't breath, and as he began to advance toward her again, she looked up into his cold, emotionless eyes – those eyes that had haunted her, both awake and asleep for all these months. She shuddered to think what he would do to her next.

And although her fear and panic were all consuming, somewhere deep inside her, she felt anger. Anger that he had managed to find her. Anger that he had trapped her. Anger that he simply thought she would give in to him – again. Anger that he thought he had power over her mind and body. She was aware that she was huddled before him, her t-shirt hanging open, her breasts barely covered in a white lace bra. But she didn't care…that much. As she slowly stood up, still backed against the wall, her fists clenched and unclenched at her side. It ends tonight, you bastard. I'm not letting you take another piece of my soul, another part of me. I've come too far, fought too hard, to let you take another bit of my spirit. she thought as she stared into his cold, dead eyes. His anger was apparent as moved quickly to stand in front of her.

"I didn't tell you to stand up did I? I didn't tell you to move? Why do I have to repeat myself? I thought we already went through this. I don't want to have to repeat myself! You don't move until I tell you. You don't breath unless I tell you to. You don't do anything unless I tell you to. I'm in control here – me! Not you…ME! Do you hear me, Lita? Do you?" he hissed, as he waved the knife in her face.

Lita knew it wasn't smart to make him angry, knew she shouldn't be doing anything that would cause him to hurt her more. But she wasn't going to give in – not this time. She had something to fight for – her life, her sanity…Randy. "I heard you the first time all those months ago, and I hear you now," she stated, her voice eerily calm, fire burning in her eyes. I choose my own destiny. I fight my own demons. And right now…I choose to fight you. And in this game of survival, I'm going to win…He didn't seem to notice – and if he did, he didn't really care – that her attitude, her entire demeanor had changed dramatically.

"I suggest you shut your fucking mouth or there will be consequences. Ones that you won't find too pleasant…" he said as he grabbed her arm, and threw her roughly across the room.

Around the Arena…

Was it possible for a person to just disappear? Was it possible for a person to vanish into thin air? Was it possible? Randy had looked everywhere for the redheaded diva. He had looked in catering. He had looked in her locker room. He had looked in his locker room. He had gone so far as to barge into the three ladies' rooms in the backstage area – much to the dismay of some unknowing production assistants who were in the midst of a gossip session. Lita hadn't been in any of those places. And now he was sitting on a pile of packing crates, his head resting in his hands, his thoughts running a mile a minute as he tried to control his emotions, his anger…his guilt.

Upon hearing the soft clicking of heels on concrete, he looked up to see Stacy and Trish fast approaching. The small glimmer of hope he had still held quickly vanished when he saw the looks on both divas' faces. Hopping off the crates, he stood before Lita's best friends. He noticed how Trish's face was a mask of fear and worry, that Stacy's eyes were glassy – as if she was about to burst into tears.

"No luck?" His voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. Both Stacy and Trish shook their heads, as Randy let out an exasperated sigh. "How the fuck could she just disappear? Where could she have gone? She's never alone. She's always with someone else, unless she's locked herself away somewhere – and even then she tells someone. She's never alone! So tell me…" he cried, gripping Stacy's shoulders and shaking her, "tell me where the hell she could be!"

Stacy looked back at him with frightened eyes, as Trish stepped forward. She knew Randy was worried about Lita, was on the edge of being terrified, of losing control. But she didn't want Stacy to be hurt. "Randy…Randy! Calm down. People are starting to look over here and you're going to hurt Stacy," she murmured as she placed her hand on his chest, lightly pushing him back, causing him to let go of Stacy's shoulders. He blinked a few times and looked around startled, as if he was just realizing where he was and what he was doing. "Come on," said Trish. "Let's go to your locker room. We can talk there. Think about what to do, where to look next…"

Randy numbly nodded his head and began to follow the two blonde divas as they made their way towards his locker room. "Wait…Dave is…" he called, looking around helplessly for his best friend, needing him now – his words of wisdom – more than he ever had before.

Stacy walked back and took his hand. "Dave will find us. He'll know where to go…" Randy simply nodded again. We have to find her. I can't lose her – not after fighting so hard and coming this far. I love her. I can't lose her…Closing his eyes for a brief moment and taking a deep breath, he allowed Stacy to guide him back to his locker room, taking one last hopeless look around the hallway.

Unfortunately, he had a match he had to prepare for. Something he wasn't looking forward to right now. His mind and his heart just weren't in it. Instead, most of his attention and emotion was focused on finding one particular redheaded diva.

The Empty Locker Room

Lita stood almost immediately, and quickly turned to face him. He approached her slowly, a snarl curling his lips. As he was approaching her, he stopped suddenly, and turned to face the door, almost as if he had heard something outside the room. He turned his back for a mere moment, in the direction of the noise. It was a second, a second too many. Lita moved quickly, balling her hand into a fist, connecting with the soft tissue of his temple. She watched as his eyes rolled up into his head, and before he had time to think, to react, she had kicked her leg out, connecting with his groin.

A grin of satisfaction crossed her features as she heard his groan of pain, as she watched him fall to the floor. But it wasn't enough. She wanted to make him suffer, hurt him like he had hurt her, make him feel pain. She continued to kick him, tears streaming down her cheeks, words of hurt and anger falling from her lips. He had curled in on himself, trying to block the blows, protect himself from her, from her steel-toed boot that was mercilessly kicking his rib cage, his head, anything she could reach. He started to cough and Lita watched as blood began to drip from his lips. Finally, she backed away and watched as his eyes fluttered for a moment, and then closed. He lay there limply on the floor, unconscious.

She knew she should move – run as fast and as far away from that locker room as humanly possible. But she couldn't. Her feet seemed rooted to the spot. She leaned against the wall, slowly sinking to the floor, clutching her arms around her shaking form, tears streaming from her eyes, as she sat staring at the limp form of her attacker, lying motionless on the floor. She was unable to move, unable to think, unable to speak. All she could do was feel. And what she had been feeling, the anger that had built insider her only moments before, had now given way to something else. Some emotion she couldn't name. She felt relief – that this nightmare was finally over, that she had fought back and won – but as she sat there, huddled in the corner of the locker room, all she could was cry.

Lita looked up suddenly as she heard a noise from outside the room, and then a voice – a voice calling her name, and then someone rattling the doorknob. Before she knew what was happening, Dave had burst through the door and stood for a moment, taking in the situation. His mouth opened and closed, but no words formed. What he saw shocked him – a man, seemingly broken and bloody, lying unconscious on the floor and Lita, huddled in the corner, her t-shirt ripped open, tears streaming down her face. It took him about thirty seconds to realize what had happened, and when he did, he felt his stomach turn with disgust. Dave took a few steps towards Lita, but as he approached, he saw the fear in her eyes, saw how her hands were shaking, saw how she shrank further back against the wall – almost as if she was afraid of him. Not wanting to frighten her more, he took a small step backward, giving her some space.

"Lita? Sweetheart? It's going to be okay. I promise. It's going to be okay," Dave murmured soothingly. Knowing he wasn't the person she truly needed at this moment, knowing he couldn't give her the love and support she needed, he moved to the door. "Find Orton," he called to a passing stagehand.

"He's finishing his tag match, sir," exclaimed the stagehand, simply staring at the large man in front of him.

When the stagehand didn't make a move, Dave stepped forward and grabbed the man by his shirt collar. "I don't really give a fuck. Get him…now. Bring him back here," he growled in a dangerously low voice. The stagehand simply nodded and scurried down the hall to get Randy. Dave then pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911, trying to explain the situation the best he could, requesting that both police and an ambulance be dispatched to the arena. After receiving confirmation that both would be at the arena shortly, Dave turned his attention back to the redheaded diva.

Stepping over her attacker, Dave noted that he was completely unconscious, and judging how his head seemed to be swelling, would be for some time. Seeing that Lita's tears seemed to be slowing, he took a chance and crouched down beside her, gently pulling her hands from her knees and grasping them in his own. She looked up and whispered, "I need…" trailing off as a new round of tears overtook her, overwhelmed that someone had found her, that she was safe, that maybe this whole ordeal was finally over.

"He's on his way sweetheart. Just hang on a bit longer okay? He's coming," Dave murmured, lightly stroking her hair. He breathed a sigh of relief as he heard sirens in the distance, knowing help would be arriving soon, and then squeezed Lita's hand as he heard running footsteps fast approaching the locker room and Randy's voice, demanding answers from the unknowing stagehand. Dave looked up as Randy came to a screeching halt in the doorway of the locker room, wearing a pair of track pants and still pulling his t-shirt over his head, having just returned to his locker room after completing his tag match, when the stagehand came looking for him. Trish and Stacy stood directly behind him, taking in the scene before them…

"Oh my god…" murmured Randy as he raced over and crouched down in front of Lita. "Dave, your shirt? Please…" he asked as Dave unbuttoned his crisp white shirt, handing it to Randy who draped it over Lita's shoulder, covering her exposed chest, shielding her from questioning eyes. Randy spared a quick glance at her attacker – was it him? Was this the same maniac who had hurt Lita before? His eyes narrowed dangerously as he felt anger coursing through him. But vengeance could wait – Lita and her well-being could not. Gently, he pulled her hands away from her face, wiping her tears with the pads of his thumbs. "It was him, wasn't it?" he murmured quietly so no one else could hear, as he gently began running his fingers through her hair. Lita lifted her head, inhaling a deep breath and nodding in affirmation before leaning into Randy's embrace, allowing his strong arms to encircle her, hold her, protect her. Neither one noticed that Stacy, Dave, and Trish were still in the room, nor did they seem to care – too wrapped in each other to pay attention to what was happening around them.

As Randy continued to hold Lita, whispering quietly to her, Dave moved to stand near Trish and Stacy, wrapping his arms around the girls' shoulders, pulling them close to his muscular chest. No one needed to ask what had happened – they could see clear as day that Lita had been attacked, and had somehow managed to fight her captor. The trio, now standing in the far corner of the room, also noticed how Lita was now clinging to Randy as if he was the only solid thing left in her world. They watched as Randy lightly ran his hand through Lita's hair, while his other hand rubbed soothing circles on her back. They couldn't hear what Lita was murmuring into his shoulder, or what Randy was whispering, but it was a more intimate moment than any of them had ever witnessed, a telling sign that something was most definitely going on between the Legend Killer and the Queen of Extreme that went far beyond the boundaries of friendship.

Just as Randy helped Lita to stand up, the police and EMTs burst into the locker room and begin asking questions, demanding answers, and gathering evidence. Lita's still unconscious attacker was quickly handcuffed and placed on an ambulance gurney to be taken to the local hospital, along with a police escort. Lita watched through red, swollen eyes as he was taken away. She held a glimmer of hope that this whole nightmare would be over – that she would finally be able to live her life without having to be constantly looking over her shoulder. As she felt Randy squeeze her hand, she looked up at him and saw how truly worried he had been. She saw something else however. Some flicker of an emotion in his icy blue eyes. She wasn't sure what it was, or if it even meant anything. And right now, she couldn't really read too much into it. Lita was starting to realize just how close she had come to losing everything again, and she closed her eyes for a moment as a wave of dizziness swept through her. Randy felt her sway slightly and picked her up in his arms, carrying her to a chair, and sitting down with her in his lap. Lita buried her head in his shoulder as she felt the warmth of his embrace once again surround her.

"Li? The police need to speak to you, find out what happened, so they can put the bastard behind bars for a very long time. Can you do that for me? Can you tell them what happened?" he whispered as he continued to hold her close. Lita nodded and sat up a bit so she could speak to the police officer. She finally noticed Dave, Stacy, and Trish standing in the corner of the room, but didn't have the energy to ask them to leave. And anyway, they need to hear this. I've kept everything hidden for so long. It's time that they knew the truth. Lita's friends stood completely still, not moving, barely breathing, as they listened to her speak with police, listened to her tell her story, listened to her tell her most guarded secret.

Lita's Confession

Two months ago, we were in Boston for RAW. I had gone out with some friends to a local bar for some drinks after the show and had decided to leave a little early. As I was walking back to the hotel, I felt someone grab me from behind and then drag me into a dark alley. He held a knife at my throat and told me that if I screamed, he would kill me. He kept repeating it over and over again. I begged him not to rape me, but he didn't care. His eyes were so cold, so unfeeling, so…dead. He pushed me down, and that's when he…

Lita's voice faded as tears once again began to stream down her cheeks. After a moment, after taking a deep breath, she was able to get her emotions somewhat under control and began speaking again. She didn't notice the looks of guilt and intense sadness that crossed the faces of Trish and Stacy as they realized exactly what night Lita had been talking about – didn't notice the identical looks of understanding as Dave, Trish, and Stacy simultaneously realized that Randy must have known Lita's secret all along – he didn't look surprised or shocked by anything that Lita was saying to the police officer. Instead he sat, holding her tightly in his embrace, needing to feel her body close to his, needing to know she was safe in his arms, needing her to feel safe.

Tonight, I was on my way to catering to grab a bottle of water before meeting up with Trish to talk about our match tonight. I felt someone grab my wrist and turn me around. It was him. He pulled me into this locker room. I knew that if I didn't do something this time to stop him, he would just do it again, and again, and again. It would never stop. He would never stop. So, I…

The officer nodded his head after listening to the remainder of Lita's statement. Telling her that investigators would be in contact with her in the coming days should more information be needed, he requested that the arena's on-call EMT take a quick look at Lita. Randy motioned to Dave, and he turned, still holding onto Trish and Stacy and walked them out into the hallway so Lita could have a bit of privacy.

The Hallway

Trish immediately pulled away from Dave, once the trio had entered the virtually empty hallway. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Stacy. "It was that night. The last time we were in Boston. Lita was with us, remember? We were all at that bar having margaritas after a show and she wanted to leave early. We let her leave…alone. She walked back to the hotel alone and-and…" She couldn't finish her thought as she threw herself into Dave's arms, shaking, as she sobbed against his chest, her guilt consuming and overriding all other emotions. Dave looked quickly over at Stacy who was holding her head in her hands.

"Stacy, what is she talking about?" asked Dave. Stacy looked up at Dave, her face a mirror image of Trish's and, in a shaky voice, began to explain.

"Two months ago, remember? We were in Boston for a show. After the show, a bunch of us had decided to go out for margaritas. Lita wanted to go back to the hotel, but we convinced her to stay and dance for a couple more songs. Eventually Lita decided that she had had enough and left the bar. Trish and I told her we would meet her back at the hotel and let her leave by herself. And that's when…when that psycho must have grabbed her and-and…" Stacy couldn't actually say the words. She didn't want to actually say that Lita had been attacked, that she had been raped. It made it seem that much more real, that much more frightening.

Dave nodded his head in understanding, and reached his hand out, pulling Stacy towards him once again, hoping that he could offer the two divas some amount of comfort. Gently, he steered them towards some empty packing crates that were stacked against the wall, urging them to sit down for a moment. "It wasn't your fault," Dave whispered. "It wasn't your fault. It wasn't Lita's fault. You've been her friends through this whole thing, even though you didn't know what had really happened. You stuck by her." Trish and Stacy both nodded their heads, Dave's words somewhat easing the guilt. "And you have to be strong for her now. She's going to need her friends, her best friends, more than ever before," Dave concluded.

"You're right Dave," said Trish, smacking the tears off her cheeks. Turning to look at Stacy, she continued. "We have to be there for her. She's our best friend. We have to support her through all of this, help her face it, show her we'll always be there for her." Stacy wiped the tears from her eyes, nodding her head in agreement, before the three wrestlers turned their attention back to the still-closed locker room door.

The Locker Room

"Well, Ms. Dumas you don't appear to have any physical injuries. I would however, recommend that you go the hospital to be checked out by a doctor," the arena EMT declared after giving Lita the once-over. Lita simply continued to blankly stare at him, as she had for much of the exam. It was if, now that the tears had stopped, the rest of her emotions had just disappeared. She couldn't feel anything – no anger, no sadness, no resentment. Nothing. It was as if she had just emotionally shutdown.

Randy, realizing that Lita wasn't responding, nodded and stretched out his hand in order to shake the waiting EMT's. "Thank you. And yes, we'll go to the hospital – I want to make sure she's really okay," he said as he stood with Lita still in his arms. Carefully placing her down in the chair, he crouched before her, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her eyes. "I'll be right back. I just want to tell Dave I'm taking you to the hospital. Sit tight for a minute, okay?" he asked as he made his way towards the closed door of the locker room.

"What about your match with Shawn?" came the whispered reply, stopping Randy in his tracks. I can't believe she's worried about my match. That should be the last thing on her mind. Turning, he moved back to Lita and once again kneeled down in front of her, so he could look into her eyes.

"I already had my match…but don't worry about that now. You're the most important thing to me. I need to take care of you," he declared as he once again stood, dropping a quick kiss on Lita's forehead. Opening the door to the locker room, Randy was met with three concerned faces. "I'm going to take Lita to the hospital to get checked out by a doctor. Dave, can you bring our bags back to the hotel?"

"Yeah man, anything you need. Don't worry about it. We'll take care of everything. She going to be alright?" Dave asked, gesturing in Lita's direction.

Randy looked back at Lita for a moment, noticing the vacant look in her eyes and how tightly she was clasping her hands. "I don't know. I really don't know."

"Can we talk to her – just for a minute?" asked Stacy. "Just to let her know we love her and we're here for her?" she hastened to explain when Randy looked ready to protest. He nodded his head in agreement, motioning for the girls to enter the room.

"Li? We, we know you don't really want to talk about anything else tonight, so we won't. But Trish and I, well, we just want you to know that we love you. You're our best friend, Li. And well, we're just glad you're okay," whispered Stacy as she grasped one of Lita's hands, while Trish held the other.

Lita looked up at them for a moment, before murmuring, "Thank you…" It was all she could muster at the moment, all she could express – too locked away in her own thoughts to truly acknowledge what Stacy was saying. The blonde divas simply looked at their friend for a moment longer, before letting go of Lita's hands and going over to stand near Dave once again. Both divas knew that Lita would eventually open up to them, talk to them about her feelings, about Randy, about everything. It was just going to take time – they would have to be patient, be there for her in whatever capacity she needed them.

"Come on sweetheart. We're going to get you checked out at the hospital and then go back to the hotel," said Randy as he moved from his spot near the door.

As Lita stood up, she grasped Randy's hand tightly in her own, sparing one more quick glance around the locker room. "Who was he, Randy? Who was he?" she whispered, as they began to walk down the hallway, their friends watching them leave.

"I wish I had an answer, Li. I really do. But I don't know. I just don't know…" muttered Randy as he pushed open the door that lead to the parking lot, hopefully leaving this whole nightmare behind.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. So sorry this chapter took so long to post. It was really hard for me write. But I think it came out pretty good in the end. I hope so anyway. Well, please read and review and tell me what you think!