A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this up. I was in the home stretch of Misery by Stephen King and I honestly couldn't put it down. I'm gonna try and make the next chapter extra special to make up for it, so tell me what you wanna see. Or read. You get the idea.

"You know you can't avoid the subject forever," I said. Skylar's immense brown eyes stared up at me from the hotel floor. She and Xander (the spatula) had been playing every since we got to Phoenix. RAW started in two hours, and she still ignored me when I tried to talk about her... extensive... family. "I have to put up with his annoying ass in a couple hours."

"Will you please not say things like that?" she said, frowning at me. "He is my family, Shawn. Part of my closest family. He practically raised me."

"I hate to tell you I don't give a fuck," I said, frowning back. "But I don't. I hate him."

"Shawn please, he's like an older brother to me. And that's how he treats me," she said, looking down.

"Figures." I rolled my eyes. "Who doesn't? Between Mark, Andy, Edge and Orton," she flinched when their names were mentioned. She does that a lot, I've noticed. I sigh. "Look, if he wants to fight with me-"

"No!" she said, jumping to her feet. "You can't hurt him!"

"And why the hell not? He's gonna try and hurt me."

"Shawn, he's had like two strokes!" she said, despair in her eyes. "He can't take that kind of stress. Please, if he says anything to you, please just suck it up and let it go."

I stared at her for a long time. She looked like she was on the verge of tears again, and Lord knows how I hate to see her cry. And this is part of her family, a big part, it seems, but still, this guy pushed me to the edge every time he had a chance. I hated him. After the constant slander and bullshit that went on backstage, I couldn't care less if he was walking on prosthetic limbs with a brain tumor. But I knew I couldn't do it. I couldn't do that to Skye.

"Alright," I said, still unhappy. She threw her arms around me and kissed me.

"Thank you so much honey! I already talked to Vince. You two are gonna make up tonight!"

"Make up?" I asked, pulling her away from me. "What do you mean, make up?"

"Like...you're gonna settle your differences and hug it out!" she said, beaming happily. "I love you so much, I could just... ah!" She jumped around and attached Xander's leash, pulling him down the hall. "Come on!" she yelled back. "We gotta meet them at the arena!"

I shook my head as she walked down the hall to the elevator. "Everything's finally coming together," she said, smiling at the spatula. "We're all going to be a family."

xxxxxxxxxx

"Bret!" Skye yelled, practically falling out the car. She ran across the parking lot and into his arms, pulling him tight. I took a deep breath, picked up Xander, and made my way over to them.

Bret glared at me from behind her, his eyes sending daggers into mine. "Were you in the car with him?" he asked.

"Uh... Yup," she said, pulling back from him.

"Why?" he asked, a look of bewilderment on his face. I grinned.

"Honey, I thought you said he knew?" I lied, smirking at him.

"I never said that!" Skye said, he light brown cheeks reddening.

"Sure you did," I coaxed. "Back in our hotel room, right after we-"

"Shawn, stop," she warned, noticing the look of anger on Bret's face.

"What don't I know, Skylar," he said, looking down at her sternly. Her face warped into a half frown. She glanced up at him through her long eyelashes and thick, floppy bangs. She sighed and looked up at the sky, letting the soft glow of the summer sun warm her face. She bought her arms together, grasping them with her opposing hands. I found myself longing to hold her, but knew I couldn't. Not until Bret got his answer.

"Bret, I know you told me he was trash. Everyone tells me he's trash. Hell, I even tell myself he's trash sometimes."

Thanks babe, I thought to myself.

"But... I... love him. I do. I love him so much Bret," she said, looking up at him pleadingly. Bret's face twisted in anger, his eyes darting back and forth from me to her.

"I didn't think it was true," he whispered. Skye started backing up slowly, grasping my arm when she made her way over to me. "I thought Mark was playing some sick joke on me."

"I knew he told you!" Skylar yelled, a full frown playing on her soft features now. "Damnit, I'm an adult, not a child. I can make these kinds of decisions on my own!"

"No, apparently you can't!" Bret yelled back. His weathered face was torn in anger and hurt as he glanced from Skylar, the sweet little girl he'd helped raise to me, the perverted ass-hole who destroyed his relationship with Vince McMahon. In Bret's mind, if I'd never come along, he'd still be Vince's golden boy.

"Bret, I'm not leaving him," she said, one hand rubbing over her stomach. "I'm not. Now, you can either be mad about it, or you can accept it, and," she looked from me to him, "act like adults and get over yourselves. It's been twelve years, now."

Bret and I stared at each other. Everythingshe said was right. We were both too old to be acting like children. I knew that, and Bret knew that. We needed to end this feud, once and for all.

"Skye, honey, I'm sorry," I said shaking his head. "It's not going to happen."

"What?" she said, looking at me incredibly.

"He's right Skye," Bret said, shaking his head and glaring at me. "It's never gonna be over. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."

"It doesn't have to be," she said, looking at the ground.

"Yes it does sweetie" I said, cupping her face and lifting it up to mine. I saw Bret glaring out of the side of my eye. "Let her go," he said sternly. I ignored him. "It's always gonna be like this."

"Fine," she said, walking into the arena.

"Skye, don't be upset," Bret said following her. "You knew this before you got together with him."

"Yeah," she said, shaking her head. "I guess I knew you two wouldn't be mature enough to make up, but at least I tried." She shrugged one shoulder. "Just, give me some time, okay? I'll be alright."

We nodded and separated, Bret and I giving each other one last glare. He knew as well as I did that Skylar and I weren't breaking up. Skylar was stubborn, and, though I did love her, any chance to spite Bret Hart is one I'm willing to take. And as much control as her family likes to have over her (as with Mark and Andy), in the end, it was always her decision that came through.

She walked into our locker room and I went to catering to find her some food. I grabbed some grapes, an apple, and a couple of apple juices. Skye is a well known health nut. I don't think I've ever seen her eat sweets, unless it was a holiday like Christmas or Valentine's Day. She liked to exercise, too. Probably the source of all of her extra stamina.

I made my way back to our locker room. She was sitting on the couch, staring intently at the television. Animal Planet. I sat next to her and she smiled over at me.

"Trouts!" she said, grinning widely.

"Mmmhmm," I said, smiling down at her. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Only if I can ask you one," she said, turning her attention back to the fish on the TV. She smiled when they jumped out of the water to swim upstream.

"Of course," I said.

"Then shoot."

"Why do you get all weird when I mention Orton and Copeland?"

She went dead silent. She focused on the TV like never before, straining her eyes to see it. I waited for a response but she ignored me. "Skylar."

"Huh?" she asked, turning back to me.

"Answer the question."

"What question?"

"Stop playing games Skye," I warned, a stern look falling over my face. I swear it's like working with a child.

"Because, they're weird people," she said, shrugging. I knew she was lying. Skye can fool some people, but everyone who knows her knows she bites her lip when she lies, and right now it looked like she was about to draw blood.

"Why won't you tell me the truth?" I asked, rubbingmy face. "All I wanted was a simple answer."

"Well you know what Shawn? Sometimes the answer isn't that simple," she said, tears welling up in her eyes. She sniffed and turned away from me. As much as I hated to see her cry, she hated for people to watch her cry.

"Sweetie," I said, pulling her closer. I held her why she let it out, my insides burning and making me feel like shit. I've got to quit fucking up with her like this or I'm going to lose her, I yelled to myself. She sniffed a few more times and shook it off. The kid's got great resiliency. She shifted in her seat and looked up at me, droplets of water still dotting her eyes. "Can I still ask you my question?"

"Of course honey," I said, pushing her hair back. She sat up straight and looked at me, seriousness in her dark brown eyes.

"Will you stop cutting yourself?"

I stared at her, knowing what she wanted to hear. What she needed to hear. What she needed from me. I nodded.

Her arms wrapped around my waist as she buried her head into my chest, snuggling closer and breathing into me. I felt her talking into my shirt, he words unintelligible as she cried out proclamations of joy. I could do this.

I would do this.

For her.