Chapter 3: The Demon

The rain was beating down outside her window, the wind was shaking the trees so hard the branches raked against the glass. Every move they made caused the floorboards to creek.

"Ya think this place might be 'aunted?" Finn asked with far too much eagerness, as he walked backwards holding onto the head of her mattress.

"No." She said shortly. She was frustrated and drenched from head to toe. This was the last of it, but she already had enough by the time they had gotten the keys from the office.

"Oh cheer up now, " he backed up to the edge of her iron bedframe, "Ready? One...two...three."

They dropped the mattress into position, and Becky immediately collapsed on to the bare bed, exhausted from the day she had endured. Her flight was delayed, and somehow the moving truck was even later, then Finn didn't get in with his for close to two hours. The apartment was a third floor walk-up, and it must've taken 10 trips to get everything in the place between the two of them. It had been a while since she'd moved last, when she first came to NXT, and she had forgotten how depressing and exhausting the empty rooms could be.

It was almost too much, all the changes at work, getting separated from almost every friend she had made in WWE. Her feud was at a dead end, the women's championship was on the other brand, and she was expected to lead the tiniest women's division she'd ever seen. Six women. Six women were supposed to somehow push women's wrestling into the new era. The thought of it was exhausting, and it was all she could think about today while waiting for Finn in a vacant apartment.

Finn seemed to know what she was thinking, but in fairness she always wore her heart on her sleeve. You never had to guess with Becky. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple, stressed and irritated. Looking down at her he said, "Move over." She scooted and felt him lay down next to her, taking her had and squeezing it.

They lay there in silence for a while. Finn had always liked the quiet. The only sound was the rain hitting the roof, the wind whipping through the trees. For some time, it felt like there was nothing but the heat of his body next to hers. That heat. It was like she knew the exact temperament of his skin at all times. It was so familiar, always brushing up against her or squeezing her hand. And it was truly, deeply wonderful, if only for a moment.

"Feeling better?" He said eventually, noticing the smile that had started to form on her face. She looked over, wondering how long he'd been looking at her.

"This place is great, really. Movin' just…sucks."

"Movin' does suck. And you, you are puttin' too much pressure on yourself." He always knew. "You want first shower? Seems like you need it."

"Nah that's aiight, I wanna make my bed."

He made his way directly across the hall to the bathroom, and for several minutes she could hear him fiddling and cursing at the shower controls.

"You want 'elp?" She shouted to him as she dug through boxes looking for her sheets.

"I got it!" Becky rolled her eyes.

She was pilling pillows against the wall next to her bed when the water stopped and the bathroom door opened. She glanced behind her as Finn stepped out of the steamy room with a towel wrapped around his waist. She felt paralyzed looking at him. In this industry, men with six-packs came with the territory, and she'd seen Finn without a shirt more times than she could count. She'd seen him bounce around in trunks cut tight, showing far more of his strong thighs than this moment. But something about the implication, the picture of him dropping the towel was burning into her brain. She watched as a droplet of water from his hair ran down his chest and down to the top of his trimmed abdomen.

"Uhh…" Say something fast girl. "How's the water pressure?"

"Not bad, " He walked over, running a comb through his messy hair. "The vents are shite though, probably have to leave the door cracked." He leaned against the doorframe of her room and toothily smiled at her. "Ah, always gotta have your little readin' nook"

She was taken aback by his casualness, it had been a long time since they last lived together. Still she fought to keep level headed, pulling her eyes away and sitting on the bed. "Oh shut up. Ya know not all of us find meditating on the hard floor to be quite so relaxin'"

He laughed "I like it, I still have to unpack all my Lego from…" he trailed off, catching the look in her eyes and red in her cheeks. "What?"

"Nothing." She said too quickly, shaking her head and biting her lower lip. Her eyes kept pulling back to the edge of his towel, it sat lower than his wrestling trunks did, showing off just a tiny bit of the top of his lower body.

"Oh…" Finn followed her eye line, looked down at the towel, and turned red himself "I'm sorry 'bout that."

"No, no, it's totally normal. This is your house, it's just…"

"I didn't mean to…"

"No really, I'm sure we've seen each other…indecent maybe a thousand times before." She glanced down, then back up at him. "Been a while huh?"

He nodded, "Not kids anymore." He started to fidget with the edge of his towel, "listen, I'm gonna change but, when you're done with the shower can we tackle that Ikea couch in the livin' room?" She groaned and he pleaded, "I know, I know, but we both have to be back to work Friday and it's never gon' to get done."

An hour and a half later they were sitting on the rug of the living room in their pajamas, with two glasses of wine and pages of instructions. Becky tried to decipher the little pictures, but Finn was quickly losing his patience. They had made it almost ¾ of the way through, and now it simply didn't make sense.

"I don't understand!" He said, searching for where the base connected to the seat. "Which one is part A again?"

"Uhhh…flat." He glared at her, so she tried again. "Sorry, it should be by your leg."

"This? What the 'ell is this? How is it supposed to…ugh!"

It had been like this for the last 20 or 30 minutes. For someone normally so mild tempered, when something rubbed Finn the wrong way, it really ate at him. Sweat was breaking out across his forehead, the veins in his neck were pulsing, and his face was a deep red. She knew when he got like this to just let him sort it out, he always did. He was cursing constantly, his brow was deeply furrowed and his face twisted.

But watching him, she could see something in his eyes change… he got quiet all of a sudden, laser focused. He took the instructions from her hands and she didn't fight it, instead picked up her glass and sipped while watching him carefully. The way he started to move, jerky and strange, but almost familiar. It was like remembering the very last bits of a dream. No, she was sure, she'd seen him like this before. Before and after big matches, he moved just like that, his eyes focused just like that.

"I think I got it." His voice was thick and almost horse. It was strange. He hadn't looked at her but she hadn't taken her eyes off of him. Yeah, she knew that voice. He worked quickly finishing the couch, taking apart where they had attached two pieces incorrectly and putting them back together. She sat there sipping her wine, her eyes fixed on him.

When he was done he looked at it for a minute, silently, blinking his eyes rapidly. Eventually he looked over at her, and that look she'd just barely recognized was gone.

"We finished the couch." He said, clearly not knowing what else to say.

"That we did."

"More wine." It wasn't a question. He got up and practically ran into the kitchen, but she followed.

"Finn." He wouldn't look at her.

"You want some more? There's about half." He only ever talked quickly when he was nervous, and Finn was never nervous.

"Finn." She repeated.

"I like this, it's a little sweet but…"

"Fergal." She said softly. That made him stop. The only time she called him by his real name was when it was important. "What just happened in there?"

He looked down at the half empty bottle of wine, afraid to meet her gaze. "Ikea is really frustratin'…frustratin' enough to…well…"

"Wake the demon."

"Seems so," He looked up at her with those sad eyes he did so well. "I usually have to tap into it …but…there are times it just decides to take over."

"I've seen him before, over the years. I hadn't put together…"

"Becky." His face suddenly got solemn and hard, "I… I just need ya to know…I'd never, I'd never hurt you when I'm like that. Or ever, but I mean specifically, when I'm like that." He was talking quickly again.

"I know that."

"The Demon…it's rash and careless, it moves fast and doesn't think twice 'bout risking somethin', and,"

"He's really good at Ikea." That made him chuckle, it was ridiculous, they both knew it. But it had only been a matter of time before she'd seen it.

"For all it is, it's not immoral."

She knew this already. As he spoke she was piecing together a decade and a half of clues of what The Demon really was. Most people assumed it was a gimmick, and she had known it was more than that, but never really looked to see how deep it ran until now. He had nothing to explain, but he would always try to protect her.

"And it would never touch you," He said with such earnest, "ever."