solitude

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Trish Stratus gritted her teeth in pain as she hobbled her way to her hotel room. She winced with every step, tears threatening to escape her eyes as she gripped her bag more tightly.

As she entered the room, a soft cry escaped her. She was in absolute agony - and the truth was, the wasn't sure what hurt her more - her back, or her heart...

Her bag dropped to the floor, but the little blonde didn't care, nor did she kneel over to pick it up. She finally gave in to the sob she'd felt building within her as she stumbled her way to the bed.

Trish buried her face in the pillows and cried, her throat and stomach hurting. It was as though she were losing him all over again.

She reflected over the past few months of her life, and how unbelievable it had all been. She hadn't been looking for a relationship, but Chris Jericho had swept her off her feet. Their start had been a rocky one marred by misunderstandings. Shortly afterward, they had managed to forge a friendship, but Trish couldn't help but feel somewhat empty. Somehow, she had fooled herself into believing she was falling in love with Chris...

...But now that she thought about it, she realized that wasn't the case...

Her heart hurt. It ached so terribly, she felt that death must be preferable to this pain she was experiencing. And that was when her thoughts focused solely on him.

Him... He'd always been there, always him...

The tiny blonde cried even harder as her thoughts rewound to even farther back - nearly four years earlier, to be exact.

~The night of Backlash - May 2000 +

Trish winced as she lowered herself from the stretcher. The EMTs had carried her backstage following T&A's match against the Dudley Boyz. She ached, but surprisingly, it wasn't *that* bad, and she declined the offer to be brought to the hospital. Instead, she'd had the trainer look her over before returning to her locker room, which she'd been sharing with Test and Albert.

At the moment, her team was nowhere to be found. Part of her felt like crap over that, as it seemed they didn't care enough about her to check on her, see if she was okay. At the same time, she was glad she was alone - at least she could shower and change her clothes in peace.

Tears of pain were pricking just behind her eyelids as the blonde diva grabbed some fresh clothing from her bag. Her back hurt like a bitch as she sat down to go through her stuff. A soft cry left her as she bent over slightly at the waist.

All of a sudden, she realized there was a knocking at the locker room door. Damn it, who would be coming here *now*? Her only guess was that Test or Albert, or both, wanted into their locker room.

Mustering every last bit of strength she had, Trish crept across the room to the door, surprise taking over her at the identity of her visitor.

It was Christian...

She knew the blond man had already competed earlier in the night, he and his brother Edge having defended their Tag Team championships. But what was he doing here, now? Although the two of them had spoken briefly, in passing a couple of times since she'd first come to the WWF a mere two months earlier, that was it. They didn't exactly have a relationship.

"Hi..." the Canadian man said softly, a look of tender concern on his face. "I just... Trish, are you okay?"

She cocked her head to one side as she regarded him almost questioningly. There was such compassion and worry on his handsome face - directed at *her*. Unlike T&A, he seemed to actually care about her well-being.

"Yeah... I *will* be..." she said softly, but the moment the words left her lips, she winced, hissing in pain.

"Those damn Dudleys..." Christian snapped, anger replacing the concern on his face. "They had no right to do that to you!"

Trish gazed up at him through her haze of pain, knowing full well that she *had* deserved being put through a table. After all the crap she'd been putting the Dudleys through, particularly Bubba Ray, she knew she did. But that didn't make her feel any better.

Christian stepped further into the room, allowing the door to close behind him. He quickly looked Trish over in her skimpy bubblegum pink outfit, but his warm blue eyes again met her brown, and he reached out to place his hands on her shoulders.

"Listen to me, Trish... the Dudleys won't get away with it."

The little blonde gazed up into his face with wonder, her lips parting slightly as he moved nearer still. Her pain was forgotten as Christian gently took her in his arms, his lips brushing softly over hers. He kissed her almost shyly at first, until he grew bolder, allowing his tongue to run over her lips before tentatively exploring her mouth.

Not another word was spoken between them as, when he broke the kiss a moment later, the blond man slowly slipped from the room.

Trish stood there, a hand snaking up to touch her lips. It all felt so surreal - as though she'd imagined the last few minutes...~
 
 
 
 

Part 3

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