Chapter V: Startling Revelations
"Check out the pictures of your 'sister'," Orton teased, tossing the magazine to Helmsley.
Hunter caught it with a laugh and tossed it back to Randy. "I've seen them but don't tell Steph. She's freaking out about this storyline. Forget the fact that I let her slobber all over Chris, Kurt, and Eric. But I'm put in a storyline where I have to treat this woman as a sister and she watches me like a hawk. She even gave me strict instructions not to stick around after we filmed her and Stacy's vignette earlier today."
"Randy, let me see what's got the boss so worried," Batista said, rising from his seat and taking the glossy magazine. He flipped through it until he found Cheryl's visage plastered on two pages with a tiny article about her. Dressed in a red bikini, she was leaning up against the most expensive Harley he had ever seen. In another shot, her seductive face stared back at him with her breasts centering the photo, hanging over the handle bars.
The third picture had her straddling the motorcycle in a white, gauzy robe. She was leaning forward in the seat, one arm across her hip, hiding any hint of panties, and the handlebars positioned just so it looked like she had nothing on at all besides the translucent material. There was smatterings of freckles in places he didn't think women had them. Oh, my god, he thought, amazed that this woman could turn him on so much. "I just realized I left my elbow brace in the car," Dave said, abruptly standing and striding to the door. He stopped with his fingers on the handle, strode back, and dropped the magazine in Randy's lap.
When Dave was gone, Hunter laughed and asked, "Do you think he realizes his brace is already on his elbow?"
Randy grinned. "The question is: Do you think he knows that we noticed he already has it on?" They both snorted and returned back to suiting up.
Batista stormed through the parking lot and pounded his fist against the concrete wall. He had thought that if he avoided her, this feeling that was creeping up on him would go away. Instead, it had gotten worse. He wanted something he couldn't have and she was all he could think about. With one more punch to the wall that grazed the skin off his knuckles, he stalked back to the lockerroom, wondering why he bothered to torture himself by looking at the magazine in the first place.
Randy held up the full page picture of Cheryl as Dave entered the room. "What's so threatening about this?" he asked, glancing at the magazine and back up at dark-haired wrestler.
"Promise this won't go beyond us," Dave said with a sigh. Hunter and Randy pulled their chairs up as if they were about to hear some juicy gossip. "Guys?" he whined.
"Fine, we promise," Randy said and Hunter rolled his hands, indicating Dave should continue.
"God, I feel like a high schooler. I've got a major crush on Cheryl Ellis and I can't have her."
"Why not?" Randy asked.
"Duh, she's married."
"Oh, really?" Hunter stated, disbelievingly. "Then mind telling me why she's dating Edge?"
"She's dating Edge!" Dave exclaimed, his eyes widening.
"Where have you been, dude? Under a rock?" Randy sarcastically asked.
"I, uh, guess running from Cheryl," he replied, still in astonishment.
"Who told you she was married?" Triple H asked.
"She wears a wedding band," Batista quickly answered with a tone that accused Hunter of not already knowing.
"She may wear a ring but somebody told me she's widowed," Orton explained. "You might want to turn on the charm, Dave, and root Edge out."
"I need some air."
"It's gonna have to be in the ring because we've got to be out there in five minutes, loverboy," his "boss" warned.
The first of the vignettes Hunter was referring to earlier aired directly after Evolution's promo. Batista made a point to see it.
Even in real life, the lockerroom had its factions. The Monday night junkfood foursome, along with Trish, were on one side while Stacy and the 'idiot' twins were on the dark side. The rest just didn't give a rip and stayed out of the way. The rumor among the foursome—Trish was accidentally, maybe conveniently forgotten—was that Pritchard was actually on the side of treating the divas like human beings, giving them the respect they deserved, but that, with his resignation, the horny side of the creative team came into power once again. The diva winner was given a push, along with Carmella also being hired. Stacy was now winning against seasoned wrestlers and the gimmick matches were beginning to flourish again. The leggy blonde had beaten all the 'heel' divas except Trish, who was scheduled to lose her belt to Lita in the next couple of months, possibly as an apology for Lita not being able to wrestle so long. The only woman left was Cheryl, the dancer on the edge of good and evil. Now she was being subjected to her first real dose of T & A on-screen.
The two were to feud for a short time, Stacy looking bad at the beginning but then triumphing over Cheryl. The redhead hoped it wasn't the end of her career by losing to an airhead. Creative assured her it was one more step to her turning heel, which they promised was a long way off.
Cherry Leigh had approached Stacy in the ring at the beginning of the program, provoking her into a challenge, much like what had happened to bring about the dance-off between Stacy and Molly Holly. The blonde agreed to the challenge, allowing Cherry Leigh to choose because she was arrogant enough to think she could beat her at anything. It was a drink-off. "I hope you've gained somewhat of a taste for beer since Stone Cold stunned you," Cheryl laughed as she stalked off, shouting directions for the ring-side staff to find them alcohol.
Throughout the two hours, the camera "cut" back to what they had filmed earlier. Triple H warned Cherry Leigh about doing something stupid but she ignored him and positioned herself across from Stacy at a table in catering, each faking what they could of downing cans of beer. Cheryl's character held her alcohol while Stacy's got progressively drunk, spilling the liquid all over her. The climax was the blonde diva getting angry, pouring beer over Cheryl's breasts and starting a fight. The on-screen feud had begun and the backstage feud didn't look much better.
"Can you believe this weather?" Cheryl asked as she and Edge dashed for the rental car in the torrential rain. Her companion made a reply but it was lost in the wind.
"To think it didn't start until after we landed. Is your house gonna make it through this?" the blonde asked, taking her umbrella and placing it in the backseat and then shaking water from his coat.
"My dad helped me put up the storm windows and doors before I left. Besides, it survived three hurricanes this summer and countless ones before that."
Edge nodded his head in understanding and squeezed her knee before cranking the car. He carefully maneuvered the vehicle out of the parking lot and onto the highway. "Do you think we should pull over and wait for this to let up?" Cheryl asked.
"I think I heard that once it starts, it's set in for the evening. We could be waiting all night."
"Yeah, I guess," she replied, peering through the windshield to see how bad traffic was. The car in front of them slammed on its brakes and Edge swerved to miss the vehicle, sending them into a hydroplane. Their car fishtailed and then spun off the road, coming to a stop as Cheryl's window and the windshield shattered. She threw her hands up to shield herself but it was too late as the shards of glass pelted her. Catching her breath, she carefully turned to Edge who was jerking at his seatbelt.
"You okay?" they both said to each other at the same time. Cheryl nodded and fumbled for her seat belt. "Cheryl," Edge anxiously said her name. "Your face is cut." She reached up a hand felt blood on her forehead.
"I'll be fine. Let's check on everyone else." He wasn't thrilled about letting her out of the car but they edged out of the broken glass, eyeing the roadsign that had glanced off the windshield and the tree trunk they were only inches away from hitting. Two other cars were involved but no one was hurt. Cheryl rubbed at one of her eyes while a woman, a nurse who had pulled over to help, tried to clean her face from the cuts that were slightly bleeding while another man held an umbrella over them in the pouring rain.
"Don't rub your eye. You might have something in it. From the way your face is cut up, there might be glass in it," the woman ordered.
"Oh," she mumbled, shoving her hands in her pockets to keep from picking at the itching eye. The fire department and state patrol arrived shortly thereafter and began an assessment, particularly one regarding the calling of an ambulance. One of the firefighters glanced her over and took out his radio to alert the hospital. "I'm fine," she protested.
"Ma'am, you may need stitches."
"I'm not going to the hospital," she said with a shudder, recalling the last time she was there over two years ago.
The phone rang four times before the answering machine picked up. Between her sinus medication and the time of night, Cheryl barely recognized the rings. When it became incessant and matched the pounding in her head, she sled out of her cocoon of blankets and cradled the phone to her ear.
"Cheryl?" the voice asked.
"It's either me or Pierce and, the last time I checked, he was a guy," she snapped, except it came out sounding more like a bunch of guttural noises and sniffles from the sinusitis. Because of her massive head cold, Pierce was working her shift, bartender turned bouncer, even though he had the night off.
"Cheryl, it's Eric. Now's not the time to joke. You've got to get down here."
"Eric, what's wrong with Pierce?" Cheryl asked, already climbing out of the bed, calculating the few minutes it would take to getthere if she took his motorcycle.
"Just get down here."
"Tell me now!" she shouted.
"He's been shot," Eric gluped.
"Oh god," she muttered and slammed the phone down without saying 'bye.'
By the time it had taken Eric to call her, the ambulance had arrived. By the time Cheryl arrived, the paramedics were starting to load Pierce into the vehicle. With her heart pounding in her ears, she shoved her way through the crowd to be stopped by Mike. "I'll take you to the hospital." She didn't hear him as she strained around him to see. "Come on, Cherry," he softly said, intentionally using the name as an endearment. Only Mike had been gifted with the ability to use the ring name as an endearment since it had been what he called her all along and then suggested she use it for wrestling.
Cheryl kicked him hard in the shin and nailed his instep. Rushing around him, she saw what he was trying to shield her from. Blood was everywhere on the pavement. It looked like someone had ripped opened Red Cross collection bags. A white sheet with patches of red was drawn over a body and Cheryl started to sway, imagining Pierce underneath the white shroud. She turned away and caught sight of the ambulance and the paramedics easing a stretcher inside. She then saw Pierce's pale face and stumbled her way over, shouting at them. "That's my husband!"
"Ma'am, we don't have time. You need to have someone drive you to the hospital," the paramedic firmly ordered.
"Is he gonna be alright?" she gasped out around her stopped-up nose, her eyes never leaving Pierce's face.
"Ma'am, you need…"
Cheryl never heard the rest of the sentence as her husband's eyes fluttered open and he whispered her name. "It's gonna be alright, baby. It's gonna be alright," she cooed.
"Cheryl…"
"Don't talk. There's plenty of time for talking later," she comforted, reaching for his hand.
"I love you…You have… to keep…on living," he said, struggling to speak
"Pierce, don't say that."
"Know…I love you."
Strong arms gripped her shoulders and started pulling her back. "I love you," she shouted as he disappeared from her sight into the ambulance. The large hands turned her around and she was staring into Mike's blue eyes.
"I'll take you to the hospital." Cheryl could only nod and they jogged to his car.
The pounding in her forehead and nose was killing her and she could barely focus her eyes. Yet, somehow she was aware of every red light that stopped them. If no one was around, Mike would run the light. She knew with every stop they made that fate was against them.
Pierce was in surgery when they arrived, the ambulance having the ability to run all the lights and stop signs. She paced the waiting room, unable to cry out her fear for the stuffy nose as the sound of her flip flops flapped on her heels to beat in time with the throbbing. Mike tried to get her to sit down but it was absolutely impossible for her nervous legs. He talked while she walked. "Apparently some guy got pissed off at Pierce for throwing him out and was gonna wait until the bar closed down. I sent him home early 'cause I know how sick you are. From what I could gather, the guy jumped him, shot him, and then Pierce whipped out that snubnose that he keeps strapped to his leg and killed him before he could kill Pierce." Cheryl stopped her pacing long enough to express her surprise at her husband carrying a gun. "You didn't know?" Mike asked and she shook her head before resuming wearing a track in the floor.
Finally, a nurse came for her but stopped Mike. Cheryl immediately lied, telling the woman that he was Pierce's brother. They were shown into a counseling room and the redhead huddled on one side of the couch, suddenly aware that she was still in her pajamas. Her world fell out from underneath her when the surgeon walked into the room. He didn't have to say a word. Mike was grateful that she was still sitting on the sofa when the doctor finally vocalized that Pierce had lost too much blood already and they couldn't stop the bleeding, even when the bullets had been removed. The bouncer gathered the distressed woman into her arms and held her there while the head cold snorts of sobs seeped out of her.
"I'll take you. You won't have to ride in the ambulance," the Good Samaritan nurse piped.
"It-it's not that…"
"Ms. Ellis," the woman, whose name she vaguely recalled as Patricia, sternly said, "You have to go. There's no question. I can take you or let one of these firefighters haul off."
I could probably take on any one of them and win, Cheryl thought but resigned herself to going with the woman when her eye slightly twinged again. She had to force Edge to stay and take care of the business involved with the wreck while Patricia carted her off.
The woman stayed with her the entire time, even going as far as to distract her while her various cuts were stinging from antiseptic. "That your boyfriend? He's mighty good-looking."
"No," she hissed when the medical assistant dabbed more antiseptic on her face.
"He looks like the wrestler-type."
Cheryl laughed and Patricia smiled, hoping she had helped in some way. "I guess you don't watch wrestling because he is."
"Really? Well, if he offers, I wouldn't pass him up if I were you."
"I'll remember that," she replied through clenched teeth when the assistant began swabbing out the gash on her forehead.
When she was finally back at the hotel, Cheryl was grateful to have Nidia stave off Edge while she slept off the painkillers and her eyes being dilated.
Cheryl only wished she had the brunette to fend off everyone else at RAW that caught sight of her and had to ask what happened. The one person she didn't want to see was now coming at her full throttle and she had no choice.
Vince McMahon stopped in front of her and tilted her head from side to side. He lifted her sunglasses and she closed the scratched eye. He turned to the man beside him and said, "Think you can do something with this?"
"There isn't much left to do," the other man replied.
"We're moving part of your storyline up. Instead of Randy supposedly attacking you in three weeks, we're doing it tonight. Go with Nick and he'll do your make-up and then we'll film." Trish Stratus was to attack Cherry Leigh and set Orton up to take the blame, thus heightening Orton's and Triple H's feud. Then the truth would come out and set up a feud between Trish and the newer wrestler, all supposedly after Stacy was done with her. However, it now seemed the storylines were going to be interwoven. I'm fine, Mr. McMahon, terribly sore, but no problem, thanks for asking, she sarcastically thought as he walked away.
Nick said nothing as they headed down the hall to his workstation but he expressed a grunt of disapproval when Dave Batista sighted them. Now knowing the truth about her marital status, Dave just couldn't ignore her, especially after hearing about the minor wreck. "Nick, you did a good job."
Cheryl shook her head and Dave reached for the sunglasses. "I have to have those," she said and quickly slipped them back on. "Glass scratched my eye and I have to wear these for a week to help it heal."
"So, he's not put any make-up on you yet?"
"No, we hit a sign and, between that and a tree branch, the windshield didn't stand a chance and shattered all over me." Dave looked her up and down to assess any more damage and touched her shoulder right below the beginnings of an angry bruise that she had tried to cover with make-up. "I'm alright, really. I'm a little banged up where the seatbelt held me in."
"Edge was driving, right?" Dave asked, twisting pages from the RAW magazine in his hands.
"Yeah. It probably would have been worse if I had been," she answered with a small laugh. Batista's nostrils stared to flare and his brown eyes seemed to take on a hint of red. "What's that?" she asked, trying to take the edge off of what was bothering him so much.
"Nothing," he muttered, glancing down at the rolled-up pages in one fist that he had found taped up in his locker. They were from the lay-out of Cheryl in the magazine with "Cheryl and Dave sitting in a tree…" written in red and a heart drawn around her face with a sad looking stick figure that was supposed to be Batista with his tongue hanging out. As to the culprit, Orton had been conspicuously absent from the lockerroom so far.
"Dave?" she asked when his eyes focused behind her.
"I'll be back," he muttered and stalked off.
Nick wasn't joking when he said he didn't have much else to do make-up wise as he made the scratches on her face look fresh and raw. When they settled her in the broken glass of a large make-shift office window, he added fake blood. Her job was to lie there and be unconscious while Orton found her and then when Triple H found him over her body. The hardest part of it all was to keep breathing normally while Batista picked her up and rushed her out of the scene while Hunter and Randy killed each other.
That night, the ladies crowded around the hotel table again. This time, it was Mexican take-out and homemade, well, hotel-made, margaritas. There was an uncomfortable silence that Nidia finally had to break. "You've not said anything about Dave and Edge. Are you mad at him?"
"I'm not mad at Edge. It was a complete accident. The car hydro—"
"I'm talking about Batista," the brunette interrupted Cheryl.
"Why would I be mad at him?" Nidia started to open her mouth but Victoria sharply elbowed her. "What's going on?" No one said a word. "S-someone tell me now," the redhead insisted.
TBC…
Author's Notes: I had a few reviews about the Mary Sue comments I put in and just wanted to explain them. I have since taken them out because I agree with the reviews and think it takes away from the story because it really has nothing to do with it. Anyhow, the comments were tongue-in-cheek as Cheryl's wrestling character would immediately be labeled a Mary Sue by some of the more canon reviewers. The comments were also a critique of myself after I charted out the plot and realized that the label could be slapped on the wrestling character after I worked really hard on making Cheryl and the storyline as realistic as possible. I don't think any of my OCs, including Cheryl, are what has been defined as Mary Sues (although Samia Carlsen may be up for debate—that girl had a lot of fun!). However, I don't have a problem if that's what an author wants to write. If you can write it well, more power to ya!
Thank you to all my readers and to my reviewers: Latisha C, lucyzigg, huntersgirl, Exyla4now, LeelooJinn, WandaXmaximoff, Jess420, Jen105, coors1977, J3r1ch0h0lic4eva, RKOThug21, aussiewrestlingfan, Kora Flair, kiss316, sugar-skyline, Aimz619, shannfan14, and Insane Zula.