Punk watched the match from his room. Tristen was making progress, but not by talking to him. The Hell in a Cell match was next Friday, and he couldn't watch her lose.
"I can't lose her."
"Lose who?"
"Tristen. You gotta help me, Zack."
"Against Kane? Punk, I love Tristen like a sister. But she made this match, and she's gotta fight it."
Punk snarled and looked at Zack angrily.
"She's got no chance! Damn it!"
"Who's got no chance?"
John was met with two sets of eyes, one angry, the other puzzled.
"He's freaking out because Tristen has that match with Kane next week. Tell him she'll be fine."
John Cena laughed.
"Against Kane? Ha. That girl will have to fight dirty in order to stay alive."
"Not helping!"
Tristen walked in.
"What's not helping?"
Punk bolted to the small girl, picking her up in a hug.
"Tris, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to call you an idiot. Where did you go?"
"To Kane. I talked to him about my stipulation."
"And?"
"I'm fucking stuck! He's a stubborn ass."
Punk growled and hit the wall with his hand.
"I'll talk to him."
"I highly doubt he'll listen to you, Punk."
"What other options do we have, Tristen?"
She looked at him with fire blazing in her eyes.
"I fight the bastard, kick his ass, and laugh about it over a soda!"
"No. I'm not going to let you fight him."
"You're not my dad! I'm doing this match, Brooks. No questions."
"Can't you see that it's a mistake? Listen to me, Tris. You. Will. Die!"
She slapped him.
"Wake up, Punk! I'm not going to listen, so why do you keep trying?"
"Because I love you!"
Everyone froze and looked at Phil.
"What?"
He sighed and ran a hand over his face.
"I love you, Colden. Have since I met you."
Tristen backed away, shaking her head.
"No. Why? Why didn't you tell me before I-. Before I could-. Damn you, Punk!"
John looked at her worriedly.
"What? What did you do?"
Tristen looked at him, scared.
"I can't tell you, John."
Punk grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
"What. Did. You. Do?"
"I made a deal!"
The room went silent.
"I made a deal with Kane. Okay? I was angry at you, and mad at my situation, so I made a deal."
Zack folded his arms.
"What deal, Broskette?"
"I've already said too much," she whispered. "I just hope that you can forgive me, Punky."
"For what?"
But Tristen had run out of the room, tears streaming down her face.
Kane watched her cry, slumped against the wall in the hallway like some sort of pathetic lump.
She was weak. Not strong like he'd originally thought.
He would fix that, however.
"Stand up."
She stood, avoiding his eyes and shrinking into herself.
"I'm sorry. I can't do it, Kane. I can't."
He tilted her chin up, staring her in the eyes.
"You can. You will do it, Hellaena."
"I can't! Not after he told me he loves me!"
Kane growled and pushed her away.
"Pathetic. He doesn't love you, my dear. I know he doesn't."
"How? Because you're the Big Red Monster and you know everything? Newsflash, Kane: You know nothing! You're just another wrestler who thinks he can intimidate people."
He smirked at her.
"I intimidated you," he growled.
"That was a mistake that definitely will not happen again."
"I think it will, my Princess."
Tristen spat at him in anger, then turned to walk away.
"Bad idea, little girl."
Tristen found herself slammed against the wall with enough force to knock her out.
"You will do what I say, Tristen. Or I'll be forced to take other measures."
Those were her last memories as she slipped into darkness.