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Chapter Five: The Burning Question
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Chris ran his fingers through his wet hair and continued to pace the length of his locker room. His rematch against the Rock was less than an hour away and he couldn't focus on anything. The minute he'd stepped backstage, he'd been faced with Jeff and Lita, and although he knew an apology couldn't really make up for the way he'd been treating them of late, it had certainly helped.
After having a chat with Lita about Matt, he'd managed to talk her out of waltzing straight into the Dudley's locker room and smacking Stacy, he didn't really think the Dudley's would have appreciated that. He had, instead, made her agree to take it into the ring and she had a lot planned for that match. Matt Hardy wouldn't know what had hit him.
But what was really nagging at him was her. On leaving Team Xtreme's locker room, he'd come across Torrie and, knowing he owed the woman a severe apology - if he hadn't known then the beating he'd almost got from Jeff would have reminded him, he'd approached her. He hadn't even finished his sentence when she'd broken the news to him.
He growled softly. Why should he care if the Billion Dollar Princess had been crying her heart out? He didn't care about her. He didn't care about anyone but his immediate friends and maybe a few of his colleagues and his fans and, okay, so he cared. He just wasn't sure why.
"Damn it!" he cursed, striding out of the room, the door slamming in its hinges behind him, echoing through the corridor.
"In a hurry, Chris?"
Chris barely nodded at Lillian, instead charging straight past her, feeling instantly guilty at the expression of hurt on her face. But he kept on walking. He could apologise later.
He reached the door and stopped, unsure of exactly what he was doing. After pausing for a moment, he refused to turn back and instead knocked on the door. She opened it quickly and her eyes widened. She had definitely been crying, not because it was obvious, anyone else would have missed it, but he knew. He could tell that she was upset, but only because he had already known, only because he was looking for it. He had to wonder how good had she had to become at hiding it?
He indicated the room, making it clear that he didn't want to be seen standing in her doorway and she narrowed her eyes, but let him enter. She closed the door behind him and he instantly felt uncomfortable. What was he doing in Stephanie McMahon's office?
"What do you want?"
At her words, he turned to face her. "I could ask you the same question. I mean, if my memory serves me, and you should know all about servicing people-"
"Do you want me to talk to you or are you just here to insult me?"
"Why would I come all the way to your locker room to insult you when we both know you prefer an audience?"
"Get out."
"No."
"No?" her eyes widened in anger. "I said-"
"What's wrong, Steph? Can't handle me?" He had no idea why he was antagonising her; maybe he needed to push her. He needed to see that she was really hurting. He wasn't sure, but there was something that told him she hadn't let it all out. Torrie may have found her crying, but she still hadn't let it out, and he had the feeling that she needed to.
After a moment, she seemed to collect herself, a snide smile coming to her face. "Where's your title, Jericho? Earn it so much you can't bear to be seen with it?"
"Why should you care?" he asked, hating that she had seen right through him. She was right, until he earned it properly he no longer wanted to carry it with him. He had also been so worried that he's simply forgotten all about it. A part of him still remembered the sweet girl that Stephanie had been when she had entered the WWF, before Triple H, before everything, and he was worried for that part of her, if it was still in there. So worried that he'd just forgotten about his title, and his match.
All he needed now was to break through her shell. He needed to know that she was really hurting, or what was the point in helping her? To be pulled into an Alliance trap? He was not about to let that happen.
"Really, Steph, why do you care? I mean we all know you love gold, so I didn't want to bring anything that could possibly make me appealing to you, not since you hate me so much."
"Oh, I don't hate you, Jericho, I pity you."
"You pity me?"
"Yes," she said softly, her eyes serious. She shook her head. "I pity a man who had the ability to win. I don't understand why you had to cheat your way to the top when you had more than enough ability to beat your way to the top."
He stood for a moment, unable to reply, so shocked at her words that for once in his life he was actually speechless. Frowning, he tried to shake away the thoughts that made him realise she was complimenting his capability as a wrestler, and regardless of what he thought, she was a McMahon, she knew talent when she saw it. He shook his head.
"Hey, Princess, you were the one who threw the chair in."
"As a diversion. You chose to use it." She looked down at her hands, focussing on her fingernails instead of him.
"Why?"
He watched as she visibly seemed to struggle with herself to look up at him. "I-I wanted to get your attention…I…"
"What for? And why me?"
She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by a loud knock at the door. Her eyes widened and she stood in fear. Quickly she became frantic. "You-you have to hide. Now!"
"Wha–"
She pushed him into the adjoining bathroom and closed over the door hastily, leaving it open slightly. He stood, peering through the small crack, too stunned to do anything else and too curious to hide completely. If something had the Billion Dollar Princess scared then it wasn't something to sneer at. Or perhaps it wasn't so much something as someone…
"What took you so long, Princess?"
Jericho's eyes narrowed as the chubby man practically spat his words at Stephanie. He wasn't sure why he cared, he still hadn't worked it out yet, but he did care and for that reason he stayed where he was, and (for once) he kept quiet. Stephanie glanced at him, an imploring look in her eyes and he nodded.
"Well? I asked you a question."
"Sorry…I was just getting dressed."
Heyman sneered. "Trust me, Princess, it's nothing you don't rent out on a regular basis anyway."
Jericho frowned at the look on Stephanie's face. The pain he saw in her eyes made him instantly regret anything he'd ever said to her, everything he'd said earlier. Did the words he said affect her like that? Somehow hearing Heyman saying them was so much worse. He wondered if it was the same for her, or if she found it worse when he said them. That thought bothered him.
"Good job on Jericho the other night, Steph. Pity it didn't work out, you screwed up again."
"But-but I did what you asked!"
"Yes, but now he's gone all noble and offered the Rock a fair chance at the title, with no cheating. He's doing this one fair and square and then we'll have no chance at getting the title back."
Stephanie's eyes narrowed and Chris was sure she must have forgotten he was there. "What makes you so sure that Jericho won't win?"
"Oh, please!" Heyman laughed. "There's no way. You forget that I know Y2J. He won't win. The Rock was right, he's a choke artist."
"He'll win."
Jericho met her eyes again and the sincerity he saw there made him think she actually believed in him.
"Are you challenging me, Steph? Are you calling me a liar?"
"No, I-" Heyman's hand connected with her face with a loud smack, the force so hard that her back landed awkwardly on the edge of the table.
"No!"
Heyman moved towards her, thinking that she was begging him to stop, but Jericho knew that it had been for him. Even when she was taking a beating that obviously wasn't her first, she didn't want him to reveal himself…even to save her. And Jericho was no longer sure that she was worried only for her own safety or for his as well.
"Heyman, what are you doing?" Jericho breathed a sigh of relief as Shane entered the room, helping his sister to her feet. But he missed the look in Stephanie's eyes. "You know not to give her anything visible! She gets a black eye and the questions start."
"That bastard!" Jericho ground his teeth and clutched his hands together so hard that some part of him was sure he must have drawn blood with his short nails. But he didn't care. Shane was in on it, he was abusing his own sister to get what he wanted, and as long as no one could point the finger at him, he didn't seem to care…but Chris did.
"Get dressed and get moving. I want you at Jericho's side for that match and I don't care who has a problem with it." Shane nodded to the door as Heyman smirked at her. The larger man grabbed her and kissed her roughly before laughing and exiting the room.
Trying not to think about anything, Steph turned to her brother. "I already changed," she said softly.
"Then change again. I want you to look like the slut we all know you are."
Steph nodded and Chris could see the tears threatening to fall. She'd obviously had a lot of practice at the brave face. She flinched as the door slammed shut leaving her alone and she fell to her knees. Chris was sure she'd forgotten he was there and cautiously entered the room, trying not to alarm her. He pulled her into his embrace and, at first, she resisted, but soon she was clutching at him, letting herself cry.
Chris had wanted her to let it out, but he had never seen anyone look so broken and he hoped he never would again. Stephanie was someone he hadn't liked for a long time, but he'd always seen her as strong. Crying in his arms, she looked defeated.
"Tell me what to do," he said softly, running a hand through her hair.
"Win."
"Why, so that the Alliance have a better chance at getting the belt back?"
"No," She looked up at him, her tear-stained face making him feel angrier at the Alliance than he already was. He reached out and touched her red cheek, frowning as she winced. "So that they don't stand a chance."
He nodded and she smiled a little. He smiled back and took a deep breath. "Well, that's one thing I can do, but what about you? How often has that happened?" she cast her eyes down and the hand that was resting on her cheek slipped under her chin, tilting her head up so that she was looking straight at him. "I won't leave you with them, Steph. Don't ask me why I care, but I do and I won't leave you with them. What were you trying to tell me when you threw in that chair?"
There were tears in her eyes again, but she roughly rubbed at her face, brushing it dry. "I want your help." At his nod she straightened her back, taking a deep breath, and Chris saw the determination on her face. "I want out."
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End of Chapter Fivexxxxx