CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
NICKY
Everything was fine... until Nicky tried to sleep. He could brush everything off and pretend none of it had happened until he closed his eyes for too long... Then he would remember. The gunshot, the screams, Molly's panic, not knowing if Dean was alive or dead... The knowledge that his parents could be next...
Stop it! Nicky screamed in his mind, but the images just rushed at him faster, mocking him.
After his mother had nearly started doing shots with him, Nicky had decided drinking wasn't the answer. He felt horrible that he'd nearly sent his mother over the edge, and he didn't want to make it worse. The problem was, he was freaking out and only drinking had helped.
What happened next wasn't intentional. He'd been taking his medications as prescribed. The Adderall was working well. He was focused. The problem came with the Xanax. That was an "as needed" medication for his anxiety, and right now, he was a giant ball of nerves... Raw, exposed nerves the world was poking with needles. He started popping the Xanax like Skittles, taking one or two every couple of hours. This calmed his nerves. The problem was, it also made him sleepy, and in sleep he saw things he couldn't handle.
Some of it was what had actually happened. The rest was his mind playing cruel tricks on him. He saw the shooter pop up in random places, like the mall or at a restaurant. It varied who and where, but it always ended the same way... His mother got shot in the head. His father landed dead at his feet. His aunt had a bullet fly through her heart. His cousin... His cousin stared up at him from a pool of blood, her eyes open and accusing...
Nicky screamed as he woke from that one. He couldn't keep doing this. The Xanax made him tired. The Adderall woke him up. He had to stay awake. He couldn't live with those images... Every time he started to feel drowsy, Nicky took an Adderall. It did the trick. He could calm his constant panic and stay awake at the same time.
After the shooting, WWE cancelled their next week of shows and stayed local. They taped their shows, but only those who volunteered worked. Everyone was advised to talk to Dr. Cove. In fact, Stephanie brought in two other therapists to back him up, people who specialized in trauma. The immediate roster consisted of unlikely pairs. Brandon, Lucas, and Danny were some of the first to volunteer. Brandon insisted he was fine. Lucas said it was the only way to cope with things. Danny didn't express his opinion, but stated he was more than willing to work. Almost none of the women had returned to work. Most were taking at least a week off to make sense of things. Although Creative had asked Nikki, who never missed a chance to return in some way, to be on air for the women, she had refused. Brie had agreed to help out since Nikki was too traumatized. Nattie was back full time. They'd even asked Mercedes, better known as Sasha Banks, and Tenille to come back. Mercedes had immediately accepted. Tenille agreed to help but only as absolutely needed. The current women's roster was small and most of them were too traumatized to return to work. The men weren't much better. Retired superstars had been called back to work to keep the company going until the current roster could return. Stephanie was shaken, but she'd shifted into business mode, focusing entirely on damage control and taking care of her people. Paul, on the other hand, had snapped. He was taking an indefinite leave of absence. In his absence, Shane had returned. It had been a long time since Shane McMahon had been in the public eye, but right now, his sister desperately needed his help if there was any hope of saving the company.
Things were changing. Nicky thought about going back, but the rest of his family was taking time off. He decided to follow their lead. Today, however, everyone would be together.
He looked at the suit he wore and barely recognized himself. A knock on his door startled him. He opened it and saw Molly in an elegant black dress. He'd never seen her dressed like that before. She looked beautiful, even in her grief.
"You clean up nice, Nicky," she said with a sad smile.
"We figured we should go together," Keith said, causing Nicky to realize he was there. He wore a suit nearly identical to Nicky's. "No one should be alone today."
"What about Trixie?" Nicky asked.
"She's coming with her moms."
"Is Aunt Cay...?" Nicky started to ask hopefully.
"She's still the same," Keith said quickly. "But Trixie insisted she's going today."
It scared Nicky to know his aunt was in such bad shape, but maybe today would help. Funerals were meant to provide closure, and maybe that was all she needed.
"Come on, Nicky," Molly said gently. She took his arm.
We're doing this, he thought. It's real... It's all real...
"I just need the bathroom quick," Nicky said.
"Make it fast," Keith said. "We don't want to be late."
Nicky hurried into the bathroom. He opened the bottle of Xanax and stared at his reflection. Breathe, he told himself. Just take a deep breath... He couldn't. He took out two of the pills and swallowed them. Almost immediately, he felt calmer. He knew he couldn't risk getting drowsy, so he also took another Adderall. After another minute, he was able to calm his breathing. He rejoined Molly and Keith and they left to do the unthinkable.
SARAYA
This was proving to be a tad more difficult than she'd expected. "Cayla, luv, we have to leave," Saraya said gently. "We'll be late if we wait much longer."
"No," Cayla said so softly, Saraya thought she'd imagined it.
"Cayla-"
"No." This one was louder and firmer. It was also the first time Cayla had spoken in three days.
Saraya wanted to fling her arms around her in relief at this small utterance, but she kept herself composed. "Luv, today is the funeral-"
"I know what day it is!" Cayla snapped. She was dressed and ready to go, so that was probably true, but with her being a half-step above catatonic for the last few days, Saraya couldn't be certain. What she was certain of was how stunned she was by Cayla's reaction. Cayla never yelled at her. "Cayla..." She said gently.
"I'm not doing this."
"Luv, we have to go. You won't forgive yourself if you don't-"
"If I don't what? If I don't go up to his wife... His widow and tell her that I'm the reason her husband is dead?! You think that will make me forgive myself? I don't deserve forgiveness!" Cayla threw her purse across the room.
That was when Saraya heard a very scared voice squeak out, "Mom?"
Trixie stood in the doorway looking terrified. "Mom, are you okay?" She asked.
Cayla looked horrified by her own behavior. "Trixie..." She said softly. "I'm sorry, Baby... I... I shouldn't have done that." She turned to Saraya. "I'm so sorry... You didn't deserve to be yelled at... That wasn't about you."
"It's alright, Luv," Saraya said quickly. "I know that."
"I didn't mean to yell at you... I was yelling at myself."
"You shouldn't do that, either, Cayla. You also don't deserve it."
"He..." She shook her head. "It's my fault, Saraya."
"No. It's not. It's that bloody mental kid's fault. He fired the gun, Cayla, not you."
"I knew he wasn't okay... And he was trying to shoot me."
"He was a nutter. You aren't responsible for any nutter but me."
"If I go today, then that's it. It becomes real. He'll really be gone. He won't come back."
"Oh, Luv..." Saraya's heart was breaking. "It's real, Cayla. It happened, and whether you go or not, that won't change. I'm so sorry, but it won't... But if you don't go, you'll never get the chance to say goodbye."
"I don't want to say goodbye..."
"I know. But you need to, Luv. We all do."
Trixie knelt in front of Cayla and took her hands in her own. "We're here, Mom. We're together," she said. "And we'll get through this together, just like we always do."
Saraya was incredibly proud of her daughter as she watched this. She was equally proud of her wife when Cayla nodded and said, "Okay."
Together, they walked out of the house and headed toward the cemetery.
DEAN
The kids needed to be together for this. Dean had insisted Molly let him out of her sight so she could be with Keith and Nicky. She'd agreed only after Colby and Joe showed up and promised to keep him safe. Now the three Shield members stood side by side in a cemetery, gathered around a casket that had to be custom made for the very big man who lay inside.
Dean shook off flashes of Big Show's dead body and tried to imagine him alive. Unless he was pissed, he'd always been smiling and laughing. He had been a good man. And now he was dead. Life sucked like that.
"You okay?" Colby asked knowingly.
"Fucking great," Dean mumbled.
Joe squeezed his shoulder supportively. Dean looked at him. "Do you think I'd have had this many people turn out if I'd died?" He asked casually.
"You're a morbid son of a bitch," Colby scolded him. "Don't talk like that! You're fine." It was then that Dean realized Colby was more traumatized by the fact that he'd been shot than he was. He felt bad suddenly for his words.
"You'd have had more," Joe said suddenly. "All of this, plus your army of psychotic fangirls."
Dean looked back at him. Joe was trying to sound calm, but he looked as traumatized as Colby. Dean knew then that by getting shot before their eyes, he had broken something in his brothers that he wanted desperately to fix. Joe dealt better. He had seen more. He could handle that things like this happened in the world sometimes. But Colby? He was pure. Sometimes, he was even child-like. Joe and Dean had always fought to protect Colby from things that might dim his light. He hated seeing the broken look in his eyes now.
"Colby..." Dean started, but what could he really say? "I'm sorry."
"For the comment? It's fine. Forget it," Colby said. It was clear he was embarrassed by his outburst.
"For giving you too much of a view into the world I grew up in, where getting shot isn't a big shock." He sighed. "It was a reflex."
"You saved Paul's life," Joe said quickly. "It was the right thing to do."
"It wasn't worth the risk," Colby said. "Why is it always you, Dean? Couldn't someone else take the risk this one time?" He shook his head. "I refuse to watch you die... I can't."
"I'm not going anywhere," Dean promised. He'd told Molly the same thing. He couldn't believe this single act of heroism had broken so many people he loved.
Joe moved closer to Colby, which seemed to calm him slightly. Dean looked around and saw how upset everyone was. Even Nikki Fucking Bella stood crying her eyes out. Normally, Dean would have said it was rehearsed and fake, but he suspected Nikki was actually crying because she had nearly been shot. She had almost died, and the only reason she'd lived was because this man died saving the woman who saved her.
He spotted Molly with Keith and Nicky. They stood close to Corri and Randy. Molly nodded at him in acknowledgement. Dean noticed AJ stuck to Corri like glue. He suspected the Bullet Club was lurking nearby to help her through this.
I hope it's enough, he thought. He knew how Corri's mind worked, and although she kept a calm exterior, he was worried she wasn't dealing with this well. He'd definitely be keeping an eye on her for a while.
CORRI
If she could get through this day without falling off the wagon, she could do anything. Corri had already attended poor Joshua's funeral the day before. It had nearly broken her to watch his mother weep for her dead son... But she hadn't gotten drunk or high. She'd let the Bucks and Kenny and AJ take her out afterward instead. She'd cried on their shoulders. She'd told them it was her fault. She'd screamed about how unfair it all was... She'd even punched AJ just to get her aggression out, which he'd insisted she do because she needed it. But she had remained sober. That was what mattered.
She could tell Randy was trying to remain strong. He kept his face stoic as the funeral began. Corri knew she was the only one who saw the pain he held back.
It surprised her that Paul held back nothing. He wept openly as the ceremony progressed. Stephanie stood by his side trying to comfort him. What a reversal of roles, Corri thought. Then again, everything was upside-down right now.
She inched toward Paul. No one stopped her. She took the hand Stephanie wasn't holding in her own. Surprised, Paul looked at her with tears in his eyes. She knew then that he felt just as guilty as she did. She squeezed his hand supportively and he nodded in appreciation. For the rest of the funeral, she stayed by his side. She'd never understood Paul as well as she did right now.
We both have blood on our hands, she thought. At least she felt less alone.
TRIXIE
She'd stayed close to her mothers for the duration of the funeral, but now that it was over she hurried to Brandon. He pulled her into his arms. She was crying.
"It's okay, honey," Brandon said. "It's over."
"Is it?" Trixie asked.
"Of course it is."
"How do we know bad things won't keep happening?"
"Trixie, that's not like you."
"Maybe it is now..." She shook her head. "Maybe the world is darker than I thought."
"Come on, don't say that. You can't let this change who you are, Trix. It's over. We survived. Your family survived. Everyone you love is fine-"
Trixie pulled away sharply. "Fine? Fine?!" She gestured to the casket. "Did you forget why we're here? Show is dead."
"I know, but... Your family's okay, Trix. That's what I meant."
"Are you serious right now? Show was my family! He was like a surrogate grandfather. How could you say something so insensitive?"
"I didn't mean-"
"Stop. Just... Don't. I can't do this right now." She started to walk away.
Brandon grabbed her arm. "Trix-"
"Let me go." She tried to pull her arm free.
"Trixie, just listen to me for a second! I'm sorry. What I said was stupid. I just don't want you to change who you are. You see the world as this sparkly, happy place, and that's beautiful... You're beautiful."
"Not anymore," Trixie said.
"Trix-"
"I'm not that girl anymore, Brandon. I can't be. She died at that party."
"Don't be so dramatic. She's still in there."
"Dramatic?! This is how I feel, Brandon! I'm not being dramatic, I'm being honest." She shook her head. "We're all going to Show's house to mourn with his family. I need to go." She walked away.
Trixie numbly watched everyone gather around Show's widow. They ate, talked, and shared stories about Show with each other. People cried, but mostly, they laughed. They tried to heal from their grief. Trixie wanted to do that, too, but then she saw her mom.
Cayla was staring at the photos of Show on the wall. She refused to eat, insisting she wasn't hungry. Finally, Cayla stood up and nearly fell back down.
Randy reached her first and steadied her. "Cayla, when's the last time you ate?" He asked gently.
"I..." Cayla began, but she couldn't answer the question.
Corri pulled out a bar of chocolate. Cayla tried to refuse that, too, but Corri gently said, "Show would want you to try."
Trixie watched her mom try to eat the chocolate. She gripped it with trembling hands, but she couldn't seem to remember how to eat it. When Corri finally broke off a small piece and got Cayla to take a bite, Cayla started crying.
Trixie couldn't keep watching this. She slipped outside for some air. She was fine until she heard a loud sound that made her panic.
Gun, she thought. She cowered, trembling and unable to breathe as she covered her head.
"Trixie..." A voice said. Someone tried to touch her. She pulled away violently as terror seized her.
"Trixie! It was a car, Trixie. The engine backfired. It's okay. You're safe," the voice insisted.
Trixie looked up and saw a hand extended toward her. She followed it up the owner's arm and kept going until she saw his face. "Danny?" She asked.
It was a fair question. He was nearly unrecognizable. He wore a black suit and his long black hair had been pulled back into a neat braid. His blue eyes pierced her as he watched her. "It's okay," he said again. "You're safe."
She couldn't help but notice how nicely Danny cleaned up. Once she'd found him too harsh to be handsome, but now she saw beyond the rage. She could see his pain, his vulnerability... She shook her head, trying not to pay so much attention to how attractive he was. What was wrong with her?
"I... I'm sorry," Trixie said, letting him help her back up.
"It's PTSD, Trixie. War veterans go through the same thing," he said. "You went through hell. It's okay to freak out once in a while. Don't apologize."
"It's just... It's been a rough week."
"I know." He paused. "You wanna talk?"
"The funeral was hard... More than hard. Impossible. And then Brandon tried brushing off how I feel ... He just wants me to get over it and be the old me... But I can't be her."
"He's an idiot." Danny studied her. "He needs to treat you better."
"He tries... He just can't understand this."
"Then he needs to fake it."
"It's not just him... My mom... She isn't eating, Danny. She almost collapsed... And she flipped on my mum and had a meltdown... She won't even eat chocolate. She's in bad shape... And I don't know how to fix her, and I just feel really, really alone..."
To her shock, Danny pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Even more to her shock, she really liked the way he kissed. Still, she pulled away.
"Danny, what are you doing?" She asked. "I have a boyfriend!"
Danny actually looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry," he said. "That was out of line and excessively stupid, even for me. I just hate seeing you so upset. I guess I didn't want you to feel alone anymore."
Trixie was stunned. That was actually really sweet. "It's okay," she said. "I'm not mad... Just don't do it again."
"Right..." Danny was about to walk away.
"Wait!" Trixie said, not wanting him to think she was angry im spite of her words. "Walk me back in?"
"Sure... Okay." He guided her inside and left her with her mum.
What just happened? Trixie wondered. She loved Brandon, but she'd enjoyed Danny's kiss a little too much. What did it mean? She decided she'd have to ask Molly later, when they weren't at a funeral.