Chapter 14
As Rebel went out to her match, Dean sat backstage with several others, watching as she got ready to make history. Because one way or another, Dean thought to himself, she was going to make history. Several times during the match, Dean found himself on the verge of either going out there and dragging Rebel from the ring, or of being sick with worry and fear. He watched helpless, as his heart leapt to his mouth at the sight of her blood. And when Roman pinned her, and took the win, he felt a pain, such a strong pain in his heart. It was then he realised that he was heartbroken for her, that the pain was because she was in pain.
"She did well, Dean." Said The Undertaker, putting a hand on his shoulder. "She should be proud of herself." Dean nodded, a hand holding his head up via his arm leaning on his knee.
"She won't see it that way." He replied, as the locker room emptied around them to go and greet her as she reached backstage.
"I know. And you should be proud of her too. When are you going to tell her, Ambrose?" The Undertaker asked, lowering his voice. "Anyone can see you're nuts about her." Dean shook his head, before answering in an equally low voice.
"I was going to ask her tonight...see if she wanted to go on a date maybe. But...I don't think now is a good time. I need to give her time to heal. If it hurts me so bad watching her, I can't imagine how much more it hurts seeing her like this."
Dean lay in his hotel room, stareing at the ceiling. Rebel had been heartbroken when she got backstage it was clear to see. She had put so much effort, tried with every fibre of her being, only to come up short. It had to hurt more than her injuries would. He barely slept, feeling all sorts of guilty for letting her go ahead with it, for not going out there and protecting her. How could he live with himself?
He felt little better when she wouldn't come out of her room, and they ended up letting The Undertaker escort her to RAW. There wasn't anything he felt he could do, or say, so he said nothing. He watched from backstage as she went out and then headed to catering to watch on the tv there. Except, the next thing he knew, he was hit over the head with something, and was being punched and kicked beyond belief. He couldn't cry out in time as he was dragged in to a side room, he didn't know if anyone was around, or how long it would be till he was found. But he sure as hell recognised Rusev's boots as he ran off.
Rebel reached backstage, franticly calling for Dean. She was joined by Seth and Roman, Seth having raced there as soon as he was able.
"We have to find Dean," Roman managed, as they began to run off towards catering. Rebel ran ahead, yelling Dean's name, looking all the rooms that lead off the corridor. He couldn't be far, he was going to head back to catering with Seth.
"Dean was right behind me, I turned to speak to someone and he carried on, then he was gone," Seth said with an angry frown. They reached an intersection and skidded to a stop, not sure what way to go. Rebel was about to suggest to split up, when a voice reached her ears. It was clearly someone attempting a yell.
"DEAN!" Rebel yelled. The voice called back, and she hared down the left hand corridor, calling to him. She almost ran past him, as he lay on the floor in a side room, but skidded to a stop and doubled back. He was on the floor, propped in to a sitting position, his face was covered in blood from a clearly busted nose, and a hand held his ribs.
"Bell," He managed, giving her a smile as she sunk down next to him.
"Oh Dean…I'm so, so sorry," she managed as Roman and Seth came running in.
"S'not your fault, Bell," Dean managed as Roman and Seth helped him to his feet.
"I gotta do something about this…" she said, more to herself than Dean. Roman heard her and looked over at her.
"Don't do something stupid, Rebel," He said as she stood also.
"I won't. Get him to medical."
As promised, she didn't do anything that evening. She didn't want to make things worse, although she did almost have to be held back from going after Rusev when Dean revealed later that evening it was he who'd attacked Dean. She kept her cool, although in her mind she had made a decision. She said nothing about it however, although Roman was quick to notice her silence at breakfast the next day.
"You feeling ok, Sis? You've been pretty quiet."
"Just got a few things on my mind, Roman. I don't know, I guess I need a bit of time to think things through." She replied, stabbing half heartedly with her fork at a pancake on her plate. Roman, Dean and Seth all paused and looked at her, leaning on her hand as she stabbed the pancake again.
"Rebel...are you saying what I think you're saying?" Seth asked, with a low voice.
"Maybe...maybe not. I don't know." She said, pushing away her plate. "I'll meet you guys at the arena." She added standing. The guys watched as she walked away, one thought running through their minds. Was this it, and was she coming back?
The next thing anyone saw of Rebel was her coming out of Hunter's office for the evening.
"Rebel, at least, think about it. Take some time and think about it," He said as she walked out the door. She put a hand on Hunter's shoulder and visibly bit her lip.
"I will think about it, that's all I can promise." She said, before heading off towards the car park.
"Goddamn it, Orton, you might have just cost me one of my best wrestlers. Why couldn't you leave well alone?" he said under his breath.
She had missed home. It had been a while since Rebel had seen her own bed, and the following day, she had flown back to Orlando. Annoyingly, her keys had gone missing, the last time she saw them was at Wrestlemania in the locker room. A trip to a trusted neighbor solved that problem, and she got her new ones cut that day. A few drinks on her balcony were welcome as she pondered the situation. To prevent harm to anyone else, she had gone to Hunter and given him the ultimatum. That she wanted out of her storyline, or out of her contract, the release from contract being more favorable. Hunter had refused, Rebel had threatened not to turn up to any shows if he didn't. It had ended with his begging her to think it over, and so she had agreed and returned home. They agreed to give her some time off, and so it looked much like The Undertaker, having some time off after Wrestlemania.
Rebel sat in her favorite lounger, tattered, worn but comfortable. A reminder of time before she hit the WWE, her only perk while living in the tiny home she shared with someone else as she trained with Roddy Piper. A bottle of beer sat on the table next to her, and her phone sat next to that. As she lay back and soaked up the sun, She picked up her phone to check the time. As she did so, she glanced at the picture, sighed, and made a phone call.
"Ah, I wondered if you would call. You did well at Mania, Rebel."
"Thanks, Taker. I...I don't even know why I'm calling you, to be honest." She said, putting a hand to her forehead.
"Because you need an experienced voice of reason." He replied. "Hunter phoned last night. Said you tried to quit."
"I did."
"Why would you do that, Rebel?" he asked, and Rebel wondered if she could detect any emotion in his voice.
"It felt like the best thing to do, at the time. I don't want to have the friends i care about hurt anymore." Rebel paused and took a sip of her beer. "They're safer this way." There was a soft chuckle on the other end of the phone, and rebel could detect the "you silly girl" that it held.
"Your loss at Wrestlemania didn't stop him. What makes you think being away from them will stop him?" Undertaker asked.
"You say that like you've see it before."
"I have. Too many times. Someone always thinks walking away solves this kind of problem, but it doesn't, Rebel. People still suffer, and they'll suffer worse if no one is there to stop him. You beat him before, you can beat him again, time and time over. I know you can." Rebel let out a small snort of disbelief, and started to meticulously study the beer bottle in her hand.
"If you say so, Taker." She said, before changing the subject. They talked for a while, about everything and anything else that came up, Rebel trying anything to take her mind off the issue at hand. Eventually Rebel decided to end the call, but was surprised by Undertaker getting a last word in.
"I probably won't change your mind. But at least think about what I said." Undertaker asked as Rebel said she had to go.
"Alright. I'll think about it. That's all I can promise." She replied, before saying goodbye.
Rebel did think about it. She thought about it as she watched Randy, Fandango and Rusev beat up The Shield the following Monday on RAW. She thought about it as she was besieged with phone calls from them, from Hunter and Steph and others to get her to return. She thought about little else. Her mind was firmly set in the camp of not returning.
It was three weeks since Wrestlemania now, the next week would be the Extreme Rules pay per view. Seth was taking Randy Orton up on a match to end the feud between his cronies and The Shield. Rebel woke the Sunday before Extreme Rules to voices. In her house. With a scowl she got dressed, and picked up a baseball bat she kept in her room, just in case. Baseball bat in hand, she tiptoed out in to the hallway. She reached the top of the stairs, and paused, listening for the voices to determine how many there were.
"And how many bedrooms do we have here again?"
"Oh, three bedrooms, the master bedroom has an en suite, which is delightful." That voice. I know that voice. Rebel crept down the stairs as the voices continued talking about the home, discussing things that were very un-burglar like for the property. She rounded the corner and saw a man dressed in a suit and tie, holding a clipboard as he looked around. The second figure however, Rebel recognised instantly.
"Excuse me, but what are you doing in my house?" she asked with a growl.
"Oh, Rebel, you're awake, finally sweetie," The second figure simpered. "Now, her room is the master room," she continued, turning back to the man.
"Again, what are you doing in my house?"
"Well, I'm helping you get it sold, sweetheart, so you can move back home to England with your Mum. After all, it's why you've quit, isn't it?" Her mother smiled broadly, and Rebel resisted the urge to punch her in the face as she realised the man with the clip board was an estate agent. Her mother turned to him now. "Would you be a dear and give us a few minutes?"
"Oh yes, of course. I'll be outside at the pool writing down some details." To his credit, the agent seemed to realise that something was amiss, and he hurried out the nearby patio doors. The moment the doors shut, Rebel turned to her mother, and let her have the full force of her anger.
"Now i don't know what the hell you think you are playing at here, but I told you back at Wrestlemania that I didn't want ANYTHING to do with you! I don't know how you got in here, hell, i don't know how you found out where I fucking live!" Her voice echoed around the kitchen as her mother stood there, a blank stare on her face. Then she broke in to a smile.
"Oh I just borrowed your keys dear, you had them on the bench."
"You stole my fucking keys?!" Rebel exclaimed.
"Oh no, I borrowed. You see, you ARE coming home with me."Her mother grabbed her by the wrist tightly.
"Let go. Right now." Rebel's voice came out in a horrible, low growl.
"Only if you say you'll come home. I'm owed grandkids from you, Rebel, and I will have them." The psycho look in her eye was back, Rebel recalled it being there when she was attacked at Wrestlemania.
"You have five seconds to let go, and get the fuck out of my house, or I am calling the goddamn police." Her wrist was released, and Rebel pulled her phone from her pocket.
"I let go!" Her mother shrieked.
"I've got a home invasion and a case of theft to report." Rebel imitated dialing 911, and held the phone to her ear. She stared her mother down as she pretended to be dialing the emergency services, and watched as her mother dug in her pocket, threw her keys at her, and then high tailed it out of her house. She followed her to the door, still pretending to be talking to the emergency services, and watched as she ran down to her car, a shriek that it wasn't over and that Rebel WILL give her what she was owed, before the car wheel span, and screeched out of the drive. She had no idea how her mother had found her, Rebel had on purposely kept her address a secret. And how was she still in the U.S.A? she was supposed to be back home in England by now. Rebel took a deep breath as she shut and locked the door, before composing herself for the estate agent as he walked back in to the kitchen. She knew what she had to do.
"I have to say, your back garden is lovely...is everything ok?" He asked.
"Yes, yes indeed. We just had a slight miscommunication, you know how mothers are. Why don't you take a look in the living room? You'll have to forgive the odd thing here and there, I wasn't informed you'd be here today. You'll have to excuse me a moment, i need to make a phone call."
"Oh yes, of course." He headed through the archway making approving noises as he looked at the decor, while Rebel went and dialed a number back in the privacy of the kitchen.
"Hi Hunter...yeah I want to come back. Soon. What made me change my mind? Well, let's just say I have a need to hit people, and this is the only way I'll get away with it."
Hope you enjoyed the latest chapter, sorry it's taken so long! xxx Zelkina xxx