Chapter 2

Joe frowned, wondering what stick was up Tressa's backside lately, and shook his head, immediately plastering on a smile when Jon came through the curtain, looking completely hyped and amped up from his return. It was good to have the Shield boys back together again as he hugged both Jon and Colby tightly around the neck. Jon was on a high from that. Every Superstar, who had to take time off for an injury, always had that worry when they returned, things would not be the same. He was glad to discover that he had worried for nothing.

It took him a moment to realize what was missing from this little group hug. Their mascot wasn't here. Tressa. She had sort of been made their little 'mascot' and he had been the one to dub her that because he was sometimes a jackass due to how easily she had fit in with their little group. From the moment the Shield came from developmental, NXT, to the main roster, she had been assigned to take care of their attire. They were SWAT gear, essentially, and Tressa was responsible for the change in their attire, to make each of them stand out as a Superstar while being a cohesive unit.

Their first night on the job was a disaster.

They wore turtlenecks – black turtlenecks – to the ring and it looked TERRIBLE. Tressa immediately went to Stephanie, begging her to let her fix the travesty. It did not look good for the guys or the company. Stephanie agreed and Tressa came up with three different costumes for each Shield member, making sure they still meshed well together. Ever since she 'saved' the Shield from a fashion catastrophe, Jon had dubbed her their 'mascot' and she had been like a little sister to them all. Little did she know one of the Shield boys had a secret crush on her and had from the moment he first laid eyes on her, but her marriage put a kibosh on that.

"Do either of you know what's up with Tres?" He asked, stepping out of the hug, and ran his hand over his damp much shorter hair.

"No man, nobody does." Colby answered, sharing a worried look with Joe because they both knew these questions were coming.

"Look bro, 3 months ago, Tressa took a leave of absence. You know her, she NEVER takes time off for anything." Joe couldn't remember the last time that woman did take a sabbatical, but it had been a long one. "When she came back…she was completely different."

"You remember how we used to tease her about color-coordinating her clothes and shit? Yeah, she doesn't wear color anymore. Only black."

"And she smokes."

"We're pretty sure she's hitting the heavy shit hard too." Colby rubbed the back of his neck, sensing the concern from Jon. "You can see it and believe me, I know one when I see it." His father had hit the hard liquor pretty hard growing up and had died of liver failure as a result of it.

"We've tried asking her about it, but…she just says don't worry about it and to focus on ourselves." Joe didn't realize just how familiar that sounded to Jon because it was the exact same thing Tressa had told him earlier in the parking lot.

"Well, I didn't really ask, and she told me to basically mind my own business after hinting she's having issues. When it comes to women, if they're saying things like that, they want to be asked and they want it to be known." It was like playing hard to get, only a bit in reverse and without the relationship aspect. Women were weird and, sometimes, Jon wondered why he couldn't have been born without a libido. That would have taken care of some of his issues, right? "Her old man cheat on her?"

Wouldn't that be a weird twist when it came to this company? It was usually the men and women on the ROAD doing the cheating, not the ones staying at home. That would explain a lot, especially given how in love she had been with the guy. Depression was a killer.

"I don't think so." Colby shook his head with a deep frown, all three walking slowly down the hallway toward the locker room. They had a few things to promote for the company, videos, and photoshoots before calling it a night with some cold beers. "She's still wearing her wedding ring, man. Usually, if a woman is being cheated on by her husband, they take that shit off."

"No doubt. My sister did when she found her scumbag ex-husband cheated on her." Joe had beaten the hell out of him for hurting his sister too. He didn't condone anyone hurting any member of his family.

"Shit, when me and Leighla broke up, she immediately took the ring off and then sold it on fucking eBay a few months later." Colby reminded them, shaking his head.

That ring had been worth MORE than $14,000. Then again, he had cheated on her, but had rectified his behavior since. Everyone made mistakes in life and Colby had atoned for it. Joe smirked, remembering Colby's bitch fest when he discovered Leighla's post on eBay.

"Bro, you deserved that, and you know it."

"Well, not all women…I can name a few who work here, who didn't…" Jon shrugged when he got looks. "I'm just saying, not all of them do. Some are either stupid, suckers for pain, or just like having the diamond."

"You don't have a very high opinion of the opposite sex."

"I have a very high opinion of Leighla." Jon smirked, folding his arms over his chest. He turned so Colby's punch grazed his shoulder.

"Asshole…"

"Did someone die?"

"We don't know…"

Well, there were ways to find out. Deaths were public records, right?

"Bro, come on now. Don't be a morbid jackass!" Joe smacked Jon upside his head with a snort, walking into the locker room, so everyone could grab their bags. "You guys go do the promo and then meet me in the parking lot."

"Got it, man."

Colby lead the way in the opposite direction to go to his locker room, which he was sharing with Jon since they were going to be a team, of sorts, at the upcoming pay-per-view event on Sunday. Summerslam. He was going after the Intercontinental Championship against Dolph Ziggler and, since Ziggles had 'The Scottish Psychopath', Drew McIntyre, in his corner, Colby would have a 'Lunatic Fringe' in his. Jon would watch his back and he WOULD reclaim the title he never should have lost in the first place.

"It's not that morbid." Jon snorted when Colby made a noise that sounded like exasperation. "You guys said she took a leave of absence and she's drinking. Plus the clothing thing, and the cryptic things she said, and apparently has said…" He pushed open the door to their dressing room, giving it a cursory once-over before beginning to bounce from one foot to the other in a type of boxer shuffle, his mind still racing over potential possibilities. "So, if it's not cheating and nobody died…was she pregnant?" If she had lost a baby, he could see Tressa spiraling.

"Bro, just stop!" Colby shook his head, staring at Jon out of wide eyes. "If she wants us to know, she'll tell us."

Except it gave Jon something to think about other than his own weird issues regarding his near-death experience. "Yeah…you're right." He agreed, knowing Colby WAS right.

Not that it meant anything.

Jon would do what he wanted.

Listening to Kansas 'Carry on My Wayward Son' on repeat, while taking shot after shot of Vodka, was the best therapy Tressa could find herself. This was Joseph's song. Every time it came on the radio, they would sing it together or she would think of him while they were apart because of their jobs. Up until recently, it never bothered Joseph the distance their jobs created, but the last couple of times Tressa had gone home, things were…tense between them. She couldn't put her finger on why either. Joseph would pick fights with her over the tiniest things and, looking back, they were ridiculous.

Granted, he wanted a child with her, and they hadn't had any luck, but then again, they only saw each other a couple of times a month. The majority of her life was on the road, traveling with the WWE, while he drove his big rig all around the country. With tears in her eyes, Tressa held it up to the ceiling, blasting the song in her ears with her earbuds, and downed another shot. The liquid burning down her esophagus was very welcomed and soon, the pain in her heart would be numbed too temporarily.

"I-I'm so sorry, Joseph…" She sniffled, curled up in a ball, and pressed play on her MP3 player again, the song filtering through her as her eyes shut.

"Joe, why are you picking a fight with me over taking the damn trash out?!"

"Because I'm not the only one who should fucking do it!"

"I do everything else around this damn house!"

"No you don't, you're never HERE to do it! That's why we have to pay for a fucking maid because neither of us are home to take care of our own place!"

That part was true. They made plenty of money, between the two of them, so Tressa didn't see the harm in hiring someone to do housework. The last thing she wanted to do was the dishes and clean on her 2 days off a week. Joseph tried to get the same days off as her, but unfortunately, a lot of times, it didn't work out due to his hectic schedule.

"Will you please just stop yelling at me about the garbage? I don't want to fight with you…"

"Then what DO you wanna do with me?" Joe shot back with a derisive snort, folding his arms in front of his chest.

"I was HOPING we could spend some quality time together and get reacquainted…" Tressa walked up to him, sliding her hands up his bare chest, and met his ocean blue eyes. "No more fighting, just kiss your wife."

"We can't keep sweeping these problems under the rug, Tressa…"

She pressed her finger against his lips and rose up on her toes to press her lips against his, feeling him lift her to set her on the counter.

The garbage and every other problem were forgotten.

Bolting upright in bed, Tressa let out a strangled gasp with sweat pouring down her face, looking around the dark room. Her hotel room. She had to adjust her eyes a few minutes and slid from the bed, glancing at the clock. It was 4 AM. Shit, she still had another 2 hours to sleep before needing to get up, but once Tressa was awake, she couldn't fall back to sleep. Sighing heavily, the near-empty bottle of Vodka on her nightstand, Tressa trudged into the bathroom to relieve herself and then take a shower to wake herself up a little more. She really hated the dreams she had of her and Joseph, reminding her of what they used to have.

Had the fighting, the seemingly inconsequential things he had opted to pick a row over with her, had he known what was coming? Had he known he was sick, but he hadn't been able to tell her? Those were questions that had haunted and would probably forever haunt Tressa. Had he been unwilling to put that knowledge, that burden on his wife, so the end result was the fighting over tiny, minuscule things, a way to gain her attention via desperation? If she had known, would things be different? Would there have been less fighting and more loving, more precious time spent together as they made the most of these last bittersweet moments?

These were all questions and dark, hopeless thoughts that had plagued her since Joseph had died and there were no answers coming. The only answer she ever found was at the bottom of her Vodka bottle and it whispered: Sleep and forget, to her, every night. Sleep and forget, even if only temporarily.

Just like every morning, Tressa cried her heart out in the shower, where nobody could see, burying her face in her hands while the water pounded down on her. Why was her husband taken away from her at such an early age? Why couldn't she see the signs he wasn't feeling well? The memory of how he died haunted her, but luckily, she hadn't dreamt of that particular moment last night. Tressa did not cry at work or show any kind of emotion because she knew, if she did, people would pity her for losing her husband at such an early age. Even though she was pushing 40 in two years, Joseph had only been 40 years old when he passed away. Sniffling, she finished her shower and stepped out, feeling both weak and drained since she hadn't eaten dinner, just went straight to the Vodka bottle. Maybe stopping for coffee and breakfast wasn't a bad idea – Tressa had to keep living and eating was a part of that, whether she wanted to or not.

"I can't believe you're eating those without gagging."

"Well, good to know one thing hasn't changed – his iron-clad, garbage compacting stomach."

Colby snorted, nodding his agreement at Joe's assessment as he reached for his cup of coffee, laced generously with a protein-based whey creamer. He had a body he had busted his backside for and, even when he was indulging, he made sure there were health benefits to the indulgence. He would admit, Jon looked good. Jon had reshaped his body a bit and definitely changed his look. It was Jon, but different. There was also something different personality-wise, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. He would assume it had to do with the time off and possibly being worried about the reception he was returning to.

"Powdered eggs are gross."

"They're perfectly fine rehydrated and cooked." Jon shoveled another forkful into his mouth.

Jon had changed his entire game and regimen during his injury leave. He ate healthier, worked out more vigorously, without pushing it, and even changed his ring repertoire. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to showcase his new abilities in the ring until next Monday, which both irritated and relieved him all at the same time. Joe knew he was chomping at the bit to get back in the ring and didn't blame him, remembering when he was out with his hernia surgery for 4 months. That had royally sucked and when he returned, there was a feeling unlike any other being in that ring again.

"Let the man eat what he wants, man."

"Oh hey, there's Tressa." Colby had looked up from his food in time to see the woman, frowning at her appearance.