He wasn't going to sit there like an idiot, he knew that much. Our boy, Our Hero, was going to get up and go face her like a man and apologize for what he'd done wrong, even though he wasn't even sure how bad the damage was.
It was raining hard outside, yet there Stephanie stood by the car, arms folded, head down. Her hair was soaked and by the time CJ reached her, he was getting drenched.
"Steph.."
"Just unlock the door, please." She looked up then and pushed her wet hair out of her eyes.
He did as instructed. She was obviously pissed enough, why upset her more by not doing as she said? Without words, he unlocked the car and attempted to open the door for her. She gently pushed him away and did the deed herself. He sighed and went around to the driver's side, hoping she wouldn't lock him out and leave him standing like a moron in the pouring rain. *Nobody* could be that pissed.
To his relief, he got in without a problem. However, he wasn't starting the car just yet.
"Talk to me, Stephanie."
She looked at him. "There's nothing to talk about, Chris. Nothing." Her voice raised a tone. "There's nothing between us, Chris, and there won't be. I wish you'd get this already."
"Then let's at least be friends." He felt that good old control slipping away as he shrank a little from the glare in her eyes. "I don't want you to be mad at me."
"Just let this end, then," she said, exasperated, as if it were that easy. "Just let it end. Or at least let me out of it. When are you gonna figure it out, I can't help you with your problem because it involves *my friends*?"
"I don't WANT your help in all this," he said, almost shouting it. Finally he said it. Now maybe she'd understand. "I wouldn't be able to get it anyway, your brother's already told me to leave you out of this."
"Then what *do* you want??" Stephanie expected a clear answer, like he had one or something.
"I just want..." He paused. How could he say this without pissing her off? Ah. NEED. Need always works better than want. "I just...need...you."
"Need me for what??" She answered a lot sooner than he could think of a reply. Well, she's expecting something.
CJ leaned forward and rested his head on the steering wheel, trying to gather his thoughts.
"I just need someone that understands me," he said, his voice very small and a little muffled. "I thought you would."
Stephanie went silent. CJ wished he could cry but he was already soaked as it was, it wouldn't have made much of a difference. Nothing much mattered now, she'd said what she meant, there was nothing and there was going to be nothing; perhaps not even a friendship. Fuck, how did Andrew Martin get so damned lucky anyway?
"I'll take you back," he finally said after raising up and putting the key in the ignition.
"Thanks," she whispered, barely audible.
What a wonderful first date.
And it was done. At least the date was. CJ didn't expect much else to happen between them, it was over when she said it was over. So he'd trudge on without her, okay then. Hey, he had other friends. Still, there was no mutual understanding between him and his other pals, but what are ya gonna do..?
Stephanie left him to his thoughts when they arrived back to her car. She got out, thanked him {no kiss, of course}, and for all he knew, she was walking out of his life for good.
How little did he know.
The Initiated - 38 "Girl Talk"
Nooo, not by a long shot was Stephanie McMahon very far away in thought from Chris Jericho. True, her feelings for him didn't match up to his feelings for her, but still, there's something to be said for the bond made between two people that feel betrayed. What's the old saying? Misery loves company?
Stephanie perched herself on a bench in the Titan Tower ladies' locker room, patting and dabbing away the beads of sweat from her face and neck. Her timing was perfect; just as she finished, good ol' Joanie was coming in.
"Well hey there lady," Steph gave that hearty-fake smile that both she and her brother Shane had inherited from their father. McMahons were so good at making people feel cozy and at home.
"Steph, well Christ, I thought you'd fallen off the face of the earth!" Joanie rested her gym bag next to Stephanie's as she began preparing for her training session.
"I know, I know, I've been bad about returning calls. It's been so damned busy and I've been neglecting *everyone*." Stephanie patted the space next to her. "Let's catch up, what's been going on?"
Joanie laughed. "Same old. We're ready for the weekend, ready for the PPV. The gates look good for it, don't they?"
"Oh God yes, it sold out a long time ago. They're gonna eat it up with a spoon."
"Yup." Joanie tied her hair back and put it in a clip. "Paul's damn excited, you know this is his first one with the title. Headlining with the belt, can you believe it, Steph?"
Stephanie smiled wistfully, remembering a time where she would have been so proud. But she didn't know these people anymore. "That's great, Joanie."
"Yeah, things are looking damn good."
Stephanie turned away a little, trying to find her strength. Finally, she set it off. "Joanie, I need you to tell me something."
"Sure, kid." Joanie disarmed her little friend with a smile. Stephanie was finding this harder and harder to do. Come on, baby. Do it.
She thought of those awful bruises she found on CJ and pushed forward. "I need to talk to you about Chris."
Joanie's friendly little smile faded. She shrugged and tried her best to play the victim. "There's not much to say there, Steph. You and I both know what he tried."
"No...no, Joanie, I don't know." Stephanie bit her lip, then spoke again. "I want you to tell me everything that went on. Tell me the truth and nothing but. I'm your friend, just remember that."
"I TOLD you everything. And everything I said was the truth, Stephanie." Joanie felt her cover being lifted and hoped that CJ hadn't gotten too deep into the girl's head.
"Joanie..he's been talking to me, you know that...and..."
"And you believe him, don't you?" Joanie's voice was rising, as well as her anger. "Stephanie, I am your friend. What the hell are you doing to listen to this fucking stranger?"
"He had all these bruises. He *showed* me things and told me things, Joanie. And I can't help but think.."
Joanie interrupted again. "He's a liar. He's nothing but a fucking liar. Why are you LISTENING to that trash??" Joanie stood up to walk away, but Stephanie stood with her. Standing up for something, at least.
"Joanie, it's all TOO much like Shane."
"What the fuck? You're telling me I was lying then too? God, I've forgiven Shane for what he did already, it's water under the bridge, Stephanie, LET IT GO."
"Well damn, what am I supposed to believe?" Stephanie was fighting hard to keep her courage, trying to fight that bad habit of crying when she got angry. "This is the exact same thing, Joanie. I'm not fucking stupid. I can put two and two together, Chris doesn't just all of a sudden GET bruises that badly from one match. You put your friends up to something, didn't you?"
"Fuck you, what the hell? Did he fuck you good enough to where you don't believe anything but what he says?" Joanie's voice was rising and Stephanie hoped this wouldn't escalate any farther than a "discussion."
"That's not any of your damn business."
"Oh fuck me," Joanie said, scoffing, "you used to tell me all about whose cock you sucked, now I'm not even trusted with that?"
"This isn't ABOUT me, it's about HIM."
"I told you once he's a damn liar, trying to save his skin."
"Maybe," Stephanie said, her voice lowering. "But maybe you are too, huh?"
"So are you calling me a liar, little Stephanie?"
Stephanie tried her best not to just scream and fly out at this woman because she surely knew she'd get her ass kicked, but she remained calm.
"What I'm saying...Joanie...is that you'd better not fuck with me. And yes, if you're wanting to know it, I believe him. I think you're lying to me now and I think you were lying to me when you had it in for Shane."
Joanie scornfully smiled again. "And Miss Thing, just what are you going to do even if I was lying? Gonna stop playing with me and my friends? Gonna take your little ball and go home?"
Stephanie was reluctant to use this fireball, but she would if she had to. She smiled a little and shook her head. "No, Joanie. If I have to, you know, I can make life a living hell for you. You know, just like you're doing to Chris?"
Joanie took this as if it were an annoying little fly-buzz. "You'd better stay at home instead of getting into this. I'm just telling you this, *friend* to *friend*."
"I'll do what I damned well please." Stephanie stood her ground, trying to fight back those stupid tears of anger and frustration.
"You don't know who you're fucking with, little girl."
Now it was Stephanie's turn to scoff. "Maybe not, but you'd better believe that I know who *you're* fucking with." With that, she picked up her gym bag and gave a sweet smile. "Have a nice workout, Joanie."
As Stephanie turned her back on her former friend and walked to the locker-room door, she thanked God that the tears started then instead of right in front of Joanie. Dear God, what had she gotten herself into?
The Initiated - 39 "Unforgiven"
Our Hero CJ knew nothing about the confrontation that took place between Joanie and Stephanie just days before the pay-per-view. He was quite busy preparing for his own battles. Needless to say, however, he would have been less than thrilled to hear that Stephanie had found her little way into this whole mess. After all, Big Brother Shane had admonished him NOT to get her involved.
So Sunday Bloody Sunday came about, and CJ had his game plan ready. He knew it was going to be brutal but that's okay, you have to go through hell to get to heaven, and you have to take pain before you can really enjoy the pleasure. He brooded over this philosophy as he sat alone backstage, mentally focusing himself on what would be a very physically taxing evening ahead. Not even good buddies Adam and Jay were apt to bother him, he looked so damned zoned.
"What's up with him? You'd think he was going one on one with God," Adam whispered this to Jason as they both glanced over at their wayward comrade, having walked by him without a word.
"You didn't hear?" Jay pulled him aside as if he had a huge scoop. "He's gonna shoot on the Dogg."
"What the freak? Are you kidding me?" Adam raised then lowered his voice, shocked yet realizing that CJ was still in earshot of their conversation.
"That's what he told me after I bugged him about it some," shrugged Jay.
"He's shitting you. That's suicide!"
"Well it's not like he isn't entitled to a little payback. I mean they did it to him, didn't they?"
"Yeah, but I mean..." Adam was at a loss for words, so he used his usual filler. "Damn, dude."
"I wonder what he's gonna do." Jason nudged Adam to start walking again so their focused friend wouldn't notice them.
CJ wouldn't have noticed them if they'd took a ton of rifles out and shot them off all at once in front of him. He was way too busy thinking, planning, and wondering how this would all work. *If* it would all work.
Meanwhile, Joanie and friends weren't just sitting and twiddling their thumbs, either. In fact, they had the same plan in store for Our Hero. They were planning to "fuck him over" big time now that the Office (or at least just Stephanie) was involved and rather suspicious of them now. So it was kill or be killed, really. And they put the burden (for tonight, at least) on Road Dogg, who accepted it gleefully. Jesse loved seeing people get taken down a peg or two, and having a hand in pulling big time free-agent CJ down the ladder more than excited him.
And while the clique of buddies plotted and schemed backstage, they hardly noticed the look of disdain Stephanie McMahon gave them as she and her mother passed them by.
"Shane, I need to talk to you."
Whenever Stephanie said this in *that* sort of tone, her brother knew there was either something, or someone, that needed fixing.
"Sure," he said as she walked into the arena-space "office" that the McMahons had set up for the evening. She sat down on the small couch and sighed.
"What is it, Steph?"
"Well, I don't really know where to start." She was ready to tell him everything...EVERYTHING...yet she knew that CJ was problably going to catch hell for it, knowing Shane like she did. "It's about Jericho."
"Huh." Shane bit his lip a little, a McMahon habit of not speaking when you really want to shout instead. "What about him?"
Stephanie hesitated a bit, suddenly wanting to start over. She forced herself to go on. "Shane...when Joanie told me all those things about you, I believed her. You know I did."
Shane turned away from his sister and leaned against the wall. He knew where this was going, and he sure as hell didn't like it. "Yeah, Steph, I remember."
"Shane, I was wrong. I was wrong to believe her, she's a liar and I know that now."
"Stephanie, I don't want to get into this right now..." Shane ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly, head still towards the wall. He was going to kill that Canadian idiot for this.
Little sister was persistent. "This isn't just going to go away, Shane. He could be hurt out there tonight, he's been hurt before, and..."
"Did he tell you to come to me about this?" Shane turned to her then, unable to hide the anger that showed in his stare.
"No," she said, honestly. "No, Shane, I'm doing this on my own."
"I don't want you involved in this."
"I *am* involved. I've been involved ever since Joanie accused you of those...horrible things..." Stephanie's voice faded into tears as she was unable to hide her grief and feelings of guilt now that she knew the truth. Her friend Joanie was a manipulative liar, and she had so much proof.
"I'm over it, Steph. I handled that situation and Chris is gonna handle his. Problably in the same way. Look, don't worry. Don't worry about him, he's a grown man, he can take care of his problems." He went to sit next to her, putting an arm around her.
"Something should be done about them, Shane." Stephanie dabbed at her eyes. "It's not right. People get hurt that way, and..."
"It's part of the process, Stephanie." Shane sighed and wished his over-dramatic sister knew nothing about "the process" to start with. Too late now, really.
"What process? Shane, it's awful."
"Initiation."
"What?" Stephanie looked at him in disbelief. "Shane, this is a business, this isn't some damned college frat house."
"Not how you think. It's like a trial. Everybody goes through it, I did and I came through for the better. Some go through it worse than others. They're testing him."
"He doesn't DESERVE it. He didn't do anything to them."
"Hey, I know it's harsh. Like I said, I've been there. They don't have to be nice. Hell, it's confusing at first but then you realize what's up, and that you gotta stand up for yourself. I'm just upset that you're involved in this, because you got along with them so well."
"Shane, tell me honestly," Stephanie said, hesitating again a little afterward but then continuing, "do you really forgive them for what they did to you? Can you honestly put that past you? Can you LOOK at these people..these liars..and consider them worthy to be your friends?"
Shane didn't answer. Stephanie shook her head and stood, preparing to leave. "I can't. Even if it is business."
*********
The time for planning was over. Now it was on with the show.
It never ceased to amaze CJ at how comical this match and character would be to the audiences around the world, and yet to him and a select few others, things couldn't be more serious. To everyone else, this was to be a fast-paced and fun little match full of Lionsaults, chairs, tables, "juking-and-jiving," and perhaps even a run-in by old Howie Finkel, who had no idea of what was going to be going on in that ring anyway. To Our Hero, it was basically the start of his offense. And man, oh man, was he ever ready for this.
*They* were ready, too. If Jesse could hurt Chris tonight, then Joanie, Paul, and the rest of their pallies would win again. And they wouldn't stop until CJ was gone. Or at least until he stopped them instead.
Before the match started, Stephanie McMahon knew this would be a "curtain sellout." Everyone in the back knew about the animosity building between Chris and Joanie, and they'd seen the stiff shots that CJ had taken from Joanie's friends. So naturally, at bell-time, people were milling around monitors and already predicting outcomes. Stephanie sat close by a TV monitor, trying to stay away from the crowd. Still, she was curious enough to listen to everyone and anyone telling around their ideas and opinions.
"Jericho's gonna get fucked up again. When is he gonna learn you can't fuck with their system?"
"Dogg's going down. You can't push a guy this far and expect him to take it."
"The shithead deserves what they give him, he never shoulda fucked her in the first place."
"They think they own this place and everybody in it, don't they? I hope Jesse gets his ass kicked."
"Guess this is what happens when you think with your balls."
At the moment, CJ was thinking of how to just *save* his balls. Joanie Lee Laurer was the furthest thing from his mind as he made his entrance and did his little "stick-work." Per usual, the audience ate it up. Love him or hate him, all eyes were on him and all ears were open. And not just for his microphone skills and wrestling ability, either. The Internet had gotten ahold of the backstage heat going on between Our Hero Chris Jericho and both Hunter and Chyna, and so they had their own reasons for staying glued to their TV and computer screens, as now CJ was facing one of their closest pals. Every move they made would be analyzed. And they were going to get quite a show tonight.
Backstage, Stephanie noticed Joanie stationed not too far away from her, chatting with He Paul and Waltman, every now and then glancing back in her general direction. Uh-oh. She felt a little twinge of suspicion and anxiety, much like the night that CJ and his persistent self had chased her around in the dark just to take her out to dinner.
It's not gonna work, Stephanie thought to herself, trying to gird herself up. Whatever scare tactic they use on me, it's not gonna work. Besides, even if they did, they can't hurt me any worse than they hurt Chris.
Chris. CJ. Jericho. Poor bastard. As Stephanie looked at the monitor, watching the match begin, she couldn't help but feel something. Guilt? Empathy? Pity? Maybe a blend of all those. She couldn't deny it though. Something was definitely there, some sort of..feeling. She just hoped he'd stay around long enough for her to convey it into words.
**********
"Ahhh, FUCK!"
Jesse couldn't hold that one back. CJ had just delivered a solid kick to the ribs in one of many stiff moves of a match that lasted less than 15 minutes but felt like eternity. His body felt as if it had displayed all those blasted 1,004 maneuvers. His head was already pounding. His left shoulder felt dislocated and his right kneecap was on fire. No telling how Mr. Dogg felt, but Chris could really give a damn. As Our Hero prepared for another spot, he quickly thought back to the beginning of the match and remembered exactly when the tide started turning.
After the lock up and a few beginning holds, Jesse didn't respond to the "ropes" that CJ had murmured to him. Well, that was expected. What wasn't expected was Chris' quick takedown from behind, followed by CJ rolling over, getting back up, and doing it AGAIN from another position that Jesse hadn't foreseen.
"Fuckin'..." was all CJ heard before he went for another takedown in another position. If he was out to embarrass Jesse, he sure was doing a bang-up performance.
Jesse, bless his heart, wasn't the learned wrestler that Chris was, and Our Hero knew this and used it to his advantage. He confused him with moves and holds that only the Japanese do nowadays. He hurt him with stiff shots to the head and kicks. Throwing the book at him, baby, and there was even a significant amount of blood coming from Jesse's lip now. Poor guy must've bit himself trying to brace up against the punches, no blade necessary. Basically, CJ did a good job of really pissing the Dogg off.
Hey, he was batting a thousand so far, daddio. And CJ would have had the upper hand throughout all the match if he hadn't decided to give Jesse a little mercy, which went a long way. Jesse wasn't a Japan-trained athlete, but he sure as hell could fight when he wanted to. A toss out of the ring. Brawl outside that played hell with CJ's ribcage. A chair to the back when CJ turned his back on his opponent and attempted to catch a second wind. Fire up the spine.
"Shiiiiit," he heard someone, maybe himself, say in slow motion, as if it were an ESPN Play of the Day. Those chairs hurt like hell, especially when the intent of real and unadulterated pain is there.
Crashing to the ground with a groan. Spot-calling was out of the question now, both were now going on instinct. The crowd cheered on their Dogg as he prepared CJ for a table spot. Chris chuckled slightly to himself as he rolled over and tried not to take deep breaths, as his own ribs were killing him. If they had *any* idea about...hold that thought. He's got the chair again, and..
Stiff shot to the back of the head. For a few seconds CJ could not see. By God, he literally could not see a thing. Ohhh holy shit. Blurred vision, much headache, crowd roaring with delight at this "cocky jerk" getting his just punishment. Chris crawled and staggered up, reaching for the ring apron, noticing Jesse dragging the table out farther. Then Jesse came for him, setting Our Fallen Hero up for a suplex.
He blocked Jesse's attempts to drive him through the table and, with no forewarning, CJ suplexed the bastard right through. Crowd gasps. Heel heat. Guess we didn't need Howard after all. Chris dragged Jesse back into the ring and ignored the "bastard" and "fuckwad" comments that Jesse mumbled at him.
"You were gonna do the job anyway, asshole," CJ mumbled low to him as he went for the pin, trying not to fade out from that chairshot earlier. "Do it with style."
"Busted my jaw, motherfucker..."
CJ couldn't hear him. He rolled over after he heard the bell and stared up at the ceiling, hearing the roar of a lot of unhappy fans. He turned his head towards the entrance ramp and saw Old Warrior Howard happily bustling down to the ring to collect what was left of Our Hero.
Heh. One down, daddio.
The Initiated - 40 "Battered"
And that was that. Our Hero Chris Jericho had bested Jesse and now everyone, included Joanie, Paul, and all in all, would fall to their knees and respect him, and then he could live happily ever after with no thought of all this hell reprising itself in the end. That's the way it works, right?
Not quite. As a matter of fact, this only angered CJ's former "friends" even more. But he could care less. Right now his head was throbbing and he barely made it back to the locker room without falling flat on his face, thanks in part to Adam and Jason's help.
"Holy shit, that was a fight," Adam said this as he held CJ and helped him backstage. Adam, bless his heart, hadn't noticed that as he held his buddy his hands were pressing hard right against that sore ribcage. CJ gritted his teeth and tried to fight off the pain. Something had to be broken down there. Adam continued, not noticing Chris' dilemma. "Wasn't that a fight?"
"Yeah," said Jason, a little more careful than his Canadian counterpart. "Watch his ribs, damn, man."
"Oh yeah, sorry." Adam put his arm around CJ's waist, which alleviated the pain a little. "You still with us?"
"Sure," CJ mumbled, just thankful it was over for now. He just wanted to get back there and sit for a while, to collect himself. However, even all through that pain, as they passed one more curtain backstage CJ noticed her. Stephanie. There she was, looking at him from afar, her mouth slightly open in obvious shock.
And she was indeed shocked. Her blue eyes were wide open, wider than usual. She'd just seen him fight back for the first time, and she was more disturbed than impressed. What the hell was he thinking? Was THIS going to stop Joanie and Company? Surely they had to be even angrier with him now.
Stephanie watched them pass and deliberated following him, taking her broken comrade in her arms and holding him, telling him what an idiot he was for provoking them like this. Initiation, hell. CJ was hurt.
As they passed the princess by, Stephanie worried even more about his condition by the look of him. His head hung low, he limped, and he was breathing heavily. Yet as they walked by, he managed to lift his head enough to look over at her, as if to ask the unanswerable "did you see that?"
"Where's the doc?" Adam dragged his buddy around the back, looking for medical attention. "Come on, where is he, this guy isn't feeling too good."
"I'm fine," CJ said softly, not loud enough to stop Adam though. He seriously doubted at this point that he could stop Adam even if he had a megaphone to his ear.
"There he is, come on." Now Adam was nearly dragging both CJ *and* Jason over to the short little guy administering his attention to the TV monitor instead of any patients. "Hey, check him out, I think that chairshot to the back of the head may have messed him up."
"I'm *fine*," repeated CJ, a little louder this time as he sank into a chair. He sure didn't feel fine, but he also didn't want hands probing all over him either.
"No you're NOT okay," protested Adam, who nudged Jason. "Look at him, does he look all right to you?"
"You look like you just took a chairshot to the back of the head," diagnosed Jason after a moment.
CJ let their voices fade in and out as the doc shined a light in his eyes quickly, simultaneously probing at his chest and ribs with the other hand. CJ winced.
"Looks like you got a little concussion from that." He turned to Adam and Jay. "You boys had to help him all the way back here?"
"Yeah," said Adam, suddenly feeling more important. "He can't walk that easily so we took him from the Fink. He just can't walk well right now." Again he nudged Jay, as if to confirm his story. "Can he?"
"We helped him back here."
"Looks like a slight concussion."
CJ moaned a little. He didn't need to hear this right now, even though his head was spinning. "I'll be ok, just let me clear my head."
"You should..." The doctor started his sentence but CJ ended it.
"I'll be fine. Really. Thanks."
The little guy nodded and noticed someone else coming his way for some sort of treatment. "If you think so. At least you can get off your feet for a while." He turned back to the crack EMT team of Adam and Jason. "Make sure he gets back to the hotel."
"Sure we will," Adam said, helping Chris back up and almost pulling his arm out of his socket. "Come on, get dressed and we'll find someone to get you back there."
CJ was exasperated yet he appreciated his friends. They took time out of their match preparation to get him this far, however unprofessional they were about it. Chris mustered enough strength to shower {by himself} in the locker room, winding down and assessing the injury. Massive headache, hurting ribs, various beginnings of bruises, and a cut above his right eye. And that was only so far. He inspected his knee for any further injuries when he remembered where he was, who he was, and what he'd done.
He was alone. He was Chris Jericho, and Chris Jericho had just majorly fucked up the Road Dogg. Somewhere, somehow, Jesse was suffering from probable worse injuries. And they'd problably be looking for him now.