Questions & Answers (Chapter 30: ASHES, ASHES) [wgwf]
Jan 6, 2024 4:19:40 GMT -5
Post by Admin on Jan 6, 2024 4:19:40 GMT -5
Rock Hill, NY ||| December 6, 2023
(off camera)
(off camera)
IT WAS WELL AFTER MIDNIGHT, when poor Elle was dropped back off at home. After a few hours of waiting, getting x-rayed, and seen by a doctor, she was told her wrist had been sprained – thankfully nothing was actually broken. There were questions about the bruises, but she’d brushed them off. There was no way in hell that she’d tell anyone about what really happened. Whatever was going on with Sev, he was in a bad place and she didn’t need to compound that with any allegations or unnecessary drama.
With her arm in a sling and her purse that contained her pain pills, she made it into the house, amazed that she could even walk a straight line between the exhaustion and the dose of meds she’d taken on the way home. The house was quiet and all she wanted now was to go to bed. Her purse missed the hook on the back of the closet door she usually hung it on, right on top of one of her husband’s many hoodies. The thud as it hit the floor reverberated in the silence and she flinched almost involuntarily, expecting to be chastised for that. When the silence stretched out, growing more pronounced, she turned and double-checked the door out of habit, making sure it was locked even though the monster she should fear wasn’t lurking out there in the dark anymore.
Trailing one hand against the bannister and then the wall, she made her way up to the master bedroom. She wasn't sure where Sev was and had no plans to go looking. She had no idea what she would even say to him now, even though the entire time she’d been at urgent care, she’d been rehearsing conversations in her head. Every inch of her body ached but it was muffled now, like the sound of a familiar song being played two rooms away and she didn’t even bother with taking off her clothes even though they smelled like disinfectant. All she wanted was silence and sleep. She made a beeline for the bed and gingerly laid down, careful not to jostle her arm. The pill had definitely hit her now and as she felt the high of it, she put on her comfort music: a Disney playlist. When the pain finally started to fade away, she'd get up and properly get comfortable, but for now she just needed to be still.
Don’t make a sound. He’ll leave you alone if you don’t make–
There was a soft rustle, a barely audible whimper from the doorway. She could see a shape there in the shadows, the height and bulk making it clear that it was her husband even before he said a word. When he moved a little closer into the light cast by the bedside lamp, she could see that he held Huck in his arms, the pup wrapped in one of the many blankets they had around the house. He didn’t look at her, didn’t really say anything as he walked closer to the bed before leaning over and setting the dog down beside her. “I fed him,” his voice was barely above a raspy whisper, “and took him for a little walk so he could smell things... get a lay of the land. His feet got muddy...so we had a little bath.”
“Hmmm, thanks.” She yawned softly, her other hand finding Huck and the silkiness of the fur behind his ears. “How was Lenore?”
Her voice was soft and actually content-sounding, catching Sev off-guard because he’d been bracing for more argument. “She slept through most of it all. I envy that skill so much.” He watched as the puppy wiggled closer into her side, snuggling up against her as if he craved her gentle touch and he couldn’t really explain the things that made him feel. Was it jealousy? Everything was so messed up, the emotions surging through him wildly but he managed a thin smile for her benefit. He didn’t tell her that he’d spent close to an hour purging himself before anything else. She could probably hear the more pronounced rasp in his voice, could likely guess its origin.
“God,” she murmured, still looking at everything but him, “I thought I was gonna have to stay the night ‘cause it took so long. It... it isn’t broken. Just badly sprained.”
As if that made it any better?
His lips thinned down to a straight line as he stared at the floor, not sure if he was supposed to apologise or accept her words at face value without further commiseration – everything between them felt frayed, felt like there was some undercurrent running through it now and he knew it was wholly his fault. He knew it all stemmed from the fact that he blamed her for missing that call from Smash. No message had been left. There was no way to know if picking up the phone would have saved a life. He tried to think of something to say, blurting out the first random thought to cross his brain. “Gizmo is still hiding from me.”
“He'll come out when he's ready. If you really wanna get back in his good graces, give him chicken from the fridge.” She finally turned her head in his direction, offering him a glazed smile. “Hi.”
Sev stared back at her and now she could see that his eyes were red-rimmed, that he looked just as ragged and exhausted as she felt and he watched that smile fade, watched her face fall and tears fill her eyes before he looked away, unable to stomach the damage done.
“I need to tell you something. I have been drinking. Too much lately.” The confession spilled from numb lips. “You do not deserve to be–”
“Oh, Sev. No.” She felt like she wanted to cry after seeing his face and maybe it was the painkillers talking but she couldn’t even remember what had sparked their fight. Seeing him look like that proverbial whipped puppy cut her in two and she had to resist the urge to blink until the tears went away because she was still coherent enough to understand that breaking down sobbing right now would do neither of them any good. “My sweet guy.” Her good hand reached out for him.
“Sweet? No. Not me.” He shook his head sadly but didn’t move from where he stood at the foot of the bed, well out of arm’s reach. The look on his face made it clear he didn’t trust himself, that he was back into those patterns of self-flagellation, the same way he’d been ever since September 25th. His eyes were already welling with tears as he looked away. “I will give you some space tonight, I think. Give you both some respite from,” he lifted one hand, struggling to find the right words, “all of this.”
The tears broke free as her hand dropped back to the mattress. “Sev, please stay.” Despite what had happened, he still made her feel safe and secure. “What if I need help?” She didn't usually try to change his mind on something, but she needed him to stay with her. A small, irrational part of her brain was telling her that if she let him walk away now, there was no way they would ever fix this chasm that seemed to have opened up between them.
He looked over at the chair in the corner, the one that had a few pairs of jogging pants and workout shorts currently piled on it, thinking of the last time he’d maintained that vigil, hovering over her like a gargoyle – he felt like one now. Ugly and carved from stone, weathered from all these storms in a way that was never going to be aesthetically pleasing ever again. He closed his eyes, shoulders slumping as he bit his lip for a moment, hard enough that he could taste blood. “If this is what you want,” his voice came out soft, almost hollow, “fine. I’ll stay.”
Her hand extended once more toward him, her eyelids feeling heavy from the drowsiness of the pain medication. “Lay with me? It's been awhile and I need you here. I just need you, Sev.”
It was the way she said it, the way she stressed that 'you' that cut through his resistance. Gently, he knelt on the mattress and crawled his way towards her, being careful not to disturb the puppy that was close to sleep at her side. Her outstretched hand grazed his arm, warm against his chilled skin and then her fingers were tracing those tattooed veins the way she always had, as if those pathways she’d committed to memory so long ago were truly the only way to unlock his heart. A shuddering breath caught in his throat, the prickling of tears making him bow his head. “I... do not know why I am so angry.” The confession came spilling out, the walls of denial having crumbled down the moment she’d left in that stranger’s car. “It has... it has always been there. Deep within me. This furnace that needs to feed but lately, the worse things have gotten? I cannot contain it anymore. It just boils over. Everything irritates me. I am so close to lashing out at The Fortunate Ones. To saying: ‘to hell with this damned business’... the championship... everything.”
She nodded, listening intently to what he said. “We'll figure something out.”
“I should not put that pressure on you.”
“Why not?” Her hand was on his shoulder now, gently squeezing. “You need to know that what happened tonight didn't break us. I love you so much.” That same hand lifted higher, resting now on his cheek. “We’re supposed to be a team, you and I. You've gotta let me in, though. Okay?”
He nodded, a tear tracing its way down his cheek. “I’m sorry,” his voice broke on that rough whisper even as he settled himself down next to her, being careful of the sleeping puppy. “Truly. You...” he hesitated, pulling in a slow breath and holding it for a few seconds, “Elle... you are the purest and most loving soul I have ever met. I do not know how... I don’t understand why we came to be, but you are my sun. My moon. My whole universe.” He lifted his hand, the same one that had done the damage to her arm and it was trembling as he gingerly touched her face. “I will do better. Be better. For you.”
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I DO NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS.
This is ironic, I know, given that a good part of my BC career was spent as a weapon wielded by a small and pathetic man – BC meaning BEFORE CHAMPIONSHIPS. Before the CHANGE. Before the shackles were broken and the MONSTER MACHINE was freed. Not sure that any of you are taking stock of my prophesies, of all the things I said in 2023 that came true. And now here we are: another year at our fingertips. 366 days this year, one extra one and I ask you now what you are planning to do with all that time? Are you planning to mimic MY footsteps, to pretend you are an UNTAMED DEMON or a MASKED MONSTER? Ah, Cable. Our little dance is coming soon. Are you ready to step between the ropes this coming Smash, to see your weakness and foolishness reflected in the never-ending gaze of the abyss?
Tell yourself that you EARNED this moment. That anything I can do, you CAN do better, as though you aren’t the Wish version of ME. Tell me, Cable... Damage... what gets your blood pumping. What fuels your fire?
Pain is MY catalyst. I go out there, and smash myself to bits every week. I drag myself to the gym despite the things going on in my head – I put in the work no matter what because that is what professionals do. I have worked my fingers to the bone, sacrificed so much to be where I am today and I don’t think either of you two understand that. I am not simply going through motions, animated by the spotlight for those fifteen minutes of fame only to be a useless blob the rest of the time. Maybe this is another paycheck for you. Another week. Another moment of pseudo-existence.
What a joke.
I put myself out there, on the precipice week after week. Put myself in places where I’m miles above, and they’re all down below, gawking at the fool working without a net. ‘Is he crazy?’ They wonder. Perhaps, but I still get up, dust myself off, and carry on when I fall. Hasn’t happened lately.
I HAVEN’T MISSED A STEP, YET YOU CONTINUE TO PICK AND PICK AWAY, SO DESPERATE TO DRAW BLOOD FROM THE STONE MY THICK SKIN HAS BECOME.
I willingly put myself under their microscope. Let them pick me apart; I could care less about THEIR scrutiny. I get spat on by fans now. Almost daily, someone tells me that I am a fool, that I am allowing myself to be used by second-string garbage. Last Brawl, the idiots got themselves arrested and none of you thought to question why I wasn’t among that headcount. Do you think it’s because I am sick of being pelted by trash the moment I walk out to the ring? Do you think it’s because I am failing to collect enough red hearts and green retweets on social media like it’s a bowl of goddamned LUCKY CHARMS?
No.
I don’t give a fuck about this popularity contest. I get cursed out and dented up. Every little impact strips another layer until I'm finally hollowed out. Scoop it all clean; make space for that false pride because what else is there but hubris to keep the world from seeing the tarnish beneath? We must puff up our chests. Crow from the rooftops. Make sure every last accomplishment is tabulated and on full display 24/7.
Ah, but this is NOT a story about Cable’s imminent downfall. It has nothing to do with TEAMWORK and it certainly isn’t about me being better than those two miscreants, even without being hobbled by Panda Express this week – someone who hasn’t returned my calls and hasn’t said a peep, I might add.
No matter. I CAN do this alone. EASILY.
I PREFER THAT.
I see right through you two fools, and your voices are nothing but a rush of wind in the void. Meaningless. I want to break something because I can, because that unchecked urge still claws at my insides, desperate to break free. The hunger for violence is everything now and I could lie and tell you that I want to end John Cable for having the audacity to believe he is on my level. So much petty nonsense. So many childish games. Does my disgust make me a traitor, then?
No.
I AM THE GODDAMNED VOICE OF REASON. I AM THE ONLY SANE ONE LEFT IN THIS MADHOUSE.
I am a survivor. I am a fighter by trade – by circumstance.
I AM THE ABYSS.
THE MONSTER MACHINE.
I am broken and smashed up, an ENIGMA to myself. I am an alien, unable to relate to any of you in a meaningful way; I expect this entire missive to fall on deaf ears like everything else I’ve been saying since last January. You won’t hear me. You certainly won’t HEED me.
CAUTION: I DO NOT PLAY WELL WITH OTHERS.
Maintain your distance because there are no filters, no safeties anymore.
My first partner shattered my spirit, hacked apart my confidence, and stripped me of courage. He made me crawl. He said that it was the breaking that made men from mice. He gave me nothing but fear and hate. Do you wonder why I have no patience for those who behave like fools? Do you wonder why I trust no one but myself to get things down the right way? Despite his best efforts, I endured. I emerged from that madness twisted, yet unbroken. I gathered the pieces. I became Frankenstein, cobbled together a MONSTER that took decades to fully animate.
Some of you might wonder how and why. You may wonder what the lesson is here, and why I have stopped trying to reason with the sheep.
I tried. I honestly did.
YOU DON'T DESERVE IT ANY MORE THAN YOU DESERVE RESTRAINT.
Survival is an instinct. So is destruction.
WELCOME TO THE END OF EVERYTHING YOU EVER LOVED.
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Charlotte, NC ||| December 25, 2023
(off camera)
(off camera)
The fans had already dispersed by the time Sev made it out of the shower – the endless tanks finally taxed beyond their capacity so the spray was lukewarm at best. He didn’t really notice with his skin still buzzing from the aftermath of adrenaline. Even after this many years, he never failed to get that rush, especially now that the crowd was so into him. He’d expected it to be dead given that it was Christmas Day but the WGWF diehard fans had turned out in droves and there were very few empty seats. Knotting the towel around his waist, he made his way towards the locker that held his street clothes, relishing the fact that as the main champion of the Smash brand, he was afforded the little luxuries like his own private locker room. It was a far cry from changing in a community conference room at some shitty little rec centre on the indies. He saw his wife curled up on the couch, a paperback novel in her hand and for a moment he stopped and stared, feeling that familiar warmth in his chest. Even with how the distance and awkwardness with them had grown over the past few months, it never ceased to amaze him that this wonderful person had chosen him.
Hearing the door open and the footsteps that followed, Elle looked up at her husband and placed a bookmark in what she was reading, dropping the book into her bag that was on the couch next to her. “You ready to go?” She gave him a tired smile before pushing herself to her feet.
“Mmmhmm,” he nodded, “give me a moment to get dressed. Starting to feel it.” She’d been with him long enough to know what that meant. He’d probably be taking muscle relaxers the moment they made it back to the hotel.
“Want me to carry anything?” Elle grabbed her bag and rested the strap over her shoulder. She was ready to get back to the hotel. The arena was the last place she had wanted to spend Christmas, but she hadn't wanted to be away from her husband. Their infant daughter was back at the hotel with a babysitter.
Sev glanced over his shoulder, halfway into pulling on a pair of gray sweats. “No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. The last thing he wanted her to do was lift his gear with her arm still not at 100%. “I’ve got it.”
“You sure?” He looked about as tired as she felt.
“I’m fine.” He couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice, the exhaustion winning over in the moment and he immediately regretted it, turning to favour her with a sheepish smile after pulling on a t-shirt. “Sorry. I know you’re only trying to help – just don’t see the sense in rushing out of here.”
The curt response caused her hackles to rise. When he gave a smile, she had to force one back to him. “I want to get home to our baby.” She hadn't said as much, but the fact that he'd been fine working over the holiday had made her mad. “It's Christmas and even though she won't remember, I still wanna make it special for her.”
“It’s just another day.” The words came out flat, shattering the silence before he could check them and he shrugged as he reached for his hoodie, his back to her for the moment.
“Not to me.” Growing up, Christmas had always been her favorite holiday. She used to stay with her grandparents every year after her mother died. They always made it a great experience for her and she'd wanted to carry that onto Lenore. “And it won't just be another day to Lenore.”
“She’s…” Sev bit his tongue, shaking his head rather than get into another pointless argument. “You’re right. It can be something good. For her.”
“It could be for all of us.” She studied him for a moment, but didn’t say anything else. There had been something she’d been desperate to talk to him about and this growing distance between them was driving her crazy. She had to find a way to fix it. “There’s actually something I want to ask you about.”
He crossed the room, hesitating before closing up the suitcase that contained his soiled gear and the Smash championship belt. “No time like the present,” he replied, chuckling bitterly.
She sensed his hesitation and normally she would have halted the talk right there. However, she’d grown tired of walking on eggshells. “I was thinking...” taking a breath, she was finally able to give him a shaky smile. “Seeing as how I travel a lot with you and I'm always at the arena with you... I thought it might be nice if I got to escort you out to the ring when you wrestle?”
The first thing he saw in his mind’s eye as those innocent words sank in was her in that bed in that basement room, a pitiful wreck with dead eyes. The next thing was blood, rivers of it spilling across the canvas – he knew what he was planning, the wheels had been set in motion months ago. When he pulled the trigger at the PPV, he was going to be on the (s)hit list of every last asshole who wanted to steal the spotlight for themselves. The last thing he wanted was to split focus on this relentless purge to keep her out of the crosshairs. “No. Fuck no. Absolutely not.”
Her brow furrowed as she hadn’t expected him to shut her down so quickly and it sparked more determination in her. “I'm already there with you. I mean I could be an asset, we could be a team.”
“We are a team.” He immediately countered, “doesn’t mean I want you in harm’s way. Doesn’t mean I’d willingly dangle you like bait.”
She opened her mouth, looking like she wanted to dispute but he stormed across the room, looming over her.
“Stop. I need you to listen. To truly hear what I am telling you, without passing it through that filter of damage and perceived rejection – can you do that?” No filters. No sugarcoating. He waited until she nodded before dropping to his knees in front of her. He managed not to wince but they both heard the crackling of his joints. “I am done with their games. Do you understand what I’m saying? At Last Chance, things will happen as they are meant to, the way I talked about with Smash before I ever signed this contract and the target on my back will become a thousand times bigger. I will not – fuck, no – I cannot do what needs to be done if–”
“For fuck’s sake!” The expletive left her lips, surprising them both as she cut him off and her cheeks reddened in the aftermath, although it wasn’t clear if that was embarrassment or anger. “Don’t treat me like a porcelain doll! I’m not going to break.”
“No.” He replied, his voice low and strained, “but I might.”
And there it was. The biggest truth. The worst fear, finally articulated.
