Chapter Text
“Hate does that. Burns off everything but itself, so whatever your grievance is, your face looks just like your enemy’s.”
- Toni Morrison, excerpt from ‘Love’
A terrible, nauseating wave of fury swept over her, overcame her and ripped all of her senses into overdrive. Every fiber of her being, every molecule that interconnected to create her in the physical form… she was on fire. She had enough awareness to clench her right hand into a trembling fist, or maybe this was instinct acting upon her. Swiftly, she whirled around and her fist collided into the refrigerator freezer door, leaving a dent in the center of the frame.
“Becky!”
“Let’s go, th’ fuck are we waiting for?!!” Becky Lynch screamed, her fists clenched and her heart pounded angrily in her chest. She could hardly breathe, her vision blurred, she felt like vomiting in the kitchen trash can.
Charlotte Flair, who stood by their large sectional sofas, gripped the edge of a cushion as she watched the violent display on their TV screen. Charlotte was pale, sweaty, horrified.
She spoke, almost timidly, unlike her usual regal manner. “There’s nothing we can do.”
Becky frantically looked at her watch. “We can get there in 20 minutes, let’s go!!”
“No, it’s too late, we—”
Another thud erupted around them, Becky punched the freezer door again, and this blow was much more violent and jarring than the last. It seemed to echo throughout the large kitchen and living room space, along with the sounds of destruction on the TV. Charlotte finally looked at her, bewildered.
“Stop ruining my fucking house, Becky! You’re moving out soon and you’re gonna pay for a new fridge, you broke my digital screen!”
“Charlie!” Becky yelled, gritting her teeth, failing to calm her own rage, “How can you stand here and do nothin’?!! We need to help Sasha!”
Charlotte’s eyes were red, watery within the soft, blue glow of the TV screen and her lips twitched with irritation as she stared at her ex-girlfriend. “How? Ruining my kitchen is gonna help her, huh? Driving to the ThunderDome and beating up Bayley is gonna help her, huh? I just… I can’t with you, right now.”
There was defeat in Charlotte’s tone as she ended her tirade, she was exhausted. The couple’s therapy never helped with Becky, because Becky still did all of the things that Charlotte asked her not to do. Rage bubbled within her too quickly and morphed into a destructive, rolling boil in a matter of seconds, and it didn’t matter how often Charlotte mentioned this or commented on improvement, this remained. Becky also would destroy things around the house during arguments. Charlotte endured this for years, and she dearly loved Becky but they did not mesh well as a couple. So, she decided it was best to end the relationship and she asked Becky to leave a couple days ago. And now their best friends wrestled tonight on Smackdown and Bayley… the often sweet, dorky Bayley was now brutalizing a helpless and injured Sasha Banks. There was a deranged look in her eyes that Charlotte had never witnessed before.
Becky stomped over to the coat closet, narrowly missing Charlotte in her rush. She angrily wrenched the door open, and removed her black leather jacket.
“Fine. Stay here and I will go,” Becky said in a low tone, her back turned to Charlotte as she slipped the jacket over shoulders. Becky slammed the coat closet door and trudged towards the area of their garage.
Charlotte called out to her, her voice weak. “Bex… wait.”
The room was dark, except for the blinking lights and digital displays of the monitors surrounding her uncomfortable hospital bed. There were beeps and hums from the monitors, presenting numbers and waves and measurements, they seemed blurry to her but she had a hard time focusing her vision or her thoughts after the violence she endured an hour ago. She also received pain medication through the intravenous catheter in her left arm, this made her sleepy. Her left knee was immobilized in a large, black brace, and she shifted around in the strange air mattress to find some comfort, the bed seemed to sigh and puff oddly with air jutting in various areas, not completely conforming to her figure. But this was a hospital, not a 5-star hotel.
Sasha Banks looked up at the dingy ceiling, she shut her eyes. She cried in the back of the ambulance, she cried when they transferred her to a hospital stretcher, she cried when she was examined by the doctors and nurses, she cried when they finally brought her back to her private room. She cried when the nurse shut off the lights and shut the door. She sighed, again feeling a well of tears forming in her eyelids and she shut her eyes very tightly to contain them, she was tired of crying.
She was battered.
She was broken.
And these were understatements.
In this darkness, her mind, slowed by the hydromorphone injection she received, seemed to play imaginative tricks. The flashing lights in her periphery danced lazily and left trails of color in her vision. Sounds around her absconded, in a repetitive nature: beeps and chimes looped in a chorus, the hushed voices in the hallway that permeated through the closed door, the creaking of a doorway.
The creaking of a door. The hallway light getting brighter, flooding through the frame.
No. Another trick.
She opened her eyes. She shut them again sleepily, a tear finally escaped and slipped down her cheek. But she was forced to open her eyes again because she thought she saw Bayley’s smiling face.
No.
“Sasha.”
Her mouth was dry, her lips felt glued shut from the lack of moisture. She thought she heard her name, she looked around and saw a figure at her bedside gazing down at her. She blinked a few times.
No.
“Did I wake you?”
It can’t be.
She’s not allowed in here.
A soft chortle filled her ears. She cringed sharply as if it were a piercing sound bursting into her ear drums. She stared up at the woman. Bayley was in her hospital room.
How—
“You look like shit, Boss.” Another chuckle.
“Bayley…” Sasha whispered and she reached around for her nurse call button in her bed. If this was real, if Bayley was here to continue what she started tonight…
“Looking for this?” Bayley smiled and held up the remote control-like item, she placed it on top of a monitor, beyond Sasha’s reach.
“You won’t be needing it. I’m here to help you with whatever you need, baby,” said Bayley softly, lowering her face closer to Sasha’s ear.
More tears flooded down Sasha’s face as she shifted her face away from the other woman’s. She felt a shock of pain tremble down her spine. Sasha was cleared from the cervical collar by the doctor but they placed her in a soft neck brace, they informed her to be careful with too much excessive movement this evening.
Bayley’s hand touched the top of her head, her fingers running through the blue hair. Her voice was oddly soothing. “Shh… I’m here. Don’t cry.”
“Bayley, please…”
Her voice shook, like a poorly built house attempting to withstand a cold, brutal, howling wind. She not only had to muster the courage to speak, she had to summon her inflamed vocal cords to work. She could feel Bayley grinning beside her.
“You think everything’s about you. Even my singles title reign, was all about you, wasn’t it? I’m just a side kick, right? Sasha Banks’ emotional support friend,” whispered Bayley venomously in her ear.
Sasha opened her mouth to protest, to question Bayley’s actions of tonight but she felt far too weak to engage. Hot tears shamefully continued to drip down her face, fear overcoming her cloudy mind. She moved her left hand closer to Bayley’s figure squatting nearby her bedside. Bayley quickly, firmly placed a hand on her wrist to show how powerful her light touch was because she was uninhibited by medication, she was not laying broken in a hospital bed with an immobilizer brace. Sasha squirmed beneath her grip and she breathed deeply in panic.
“You need to relax more. Here… let’s see…” Bayley’s voice trailed off as she pressed some of the keys on the locked cabinet that sat below a few monitors.
There was an electronic, confirmatory ding and the door opened. Terrified, Sasha frowned as she heard Bayley rummage through the materials.
“When you flirt with the nurses, they let you know the codes to things,” chuckled Bayley, “Ooh, what’s this? Lorazepam? Maybe I’ll inject this and help you relax.”
Sasha couldn’t speak but she tried to shake her head as Bayley loomed closer. But Bayley stopped suddenly since there were louder noises in the hallway, more shadowy figures moving in the bright hallway light.
Charlotte’s high heels clicked rhythmically on the tiled floor of the hospital hallway, Becky walked briskly beside her and her boot heels almost mimicked Charlotte’s pace. Visitors and staff gazed in awe at the tall blonde and the red-haired Irish woman, others would see them as a power couple walking in unison, as if transforming the hallway into a modeling runway with their stylish attire. When in reality, their romance had ended and they were approaching their best friend’s hospital room as moral support.
“Hello, can I help you ladies?” a young nurse was standing outside of the room they were about to enter.
“I’m Charlotte Flair and this is Becky Lynch,” Charlotte said with a polite smile to the nurse, “We’re here to see Sasha Banks, we’re her friends.”
“Ah yes, Ms. Banks did tell us earlier that she might be expecting visitors, she had another visitor earlier but please come right in,” the nurse said pleasantly as she opened the door to usher them inside.
Becky bustled inside but stared at the nurse because she found her comment strange about ‘another visitor,’ although Charlotte seemed to ignore this and approached Sasha’s bed quickly.
“Sasha?” Charlotte called softly as she leaned down by the bed.
Sasha was sobbing and breathing heavily.
“What’s wrong? Are you in pain?” Becky asked gently as she approached the opposite side to where Charlotte stood.
“Bayley…” sobbed Sasha.
Becky and Charlotte both had furrowed brows and worried faces in the dark room, their gazes illuminated by the light of the monitors surrounding them.
“She was here, sh-she just left,” Sasha managed to sputter out.
“What!” shouted Becky and she looked around bewildered.
“Keep your voice down,” Charlotte whispered harshly as she glowered at Becky.
“You don’t see that as a fucking problem that motherfucking Bayley was in her room?!” yelled Becky, her voice boomed throughout the room.
“Ladies?” The nurse opened the door and peered around curiously because of the loud voices.
Becky quickly approached the doorway and shoved the nurse out of the way to step into the bright hallway. She looked around for anyone suspicious, there were a few staff members and visitors milling about.
“Ms. Lynch, is something wrong?”
Rage and trepidation hammered within her heart as Becky picked a random hallway to race down, ignoring the nurse calling after her. She quickly avoided a few others in the hallway as she ran and she saw a woman walking away hurriedly in a dark hoodie and jeans. She sped up beside the woman and grabbed her arm. The young woman, confused, stopped and stared at Becky. It wasn’t Bayley.
Dammit.
“Sorry,” said Becky hurriedly as she continued down the hallway and the woman stared at her in surprise. She arrived at a crossroads and again picked another random hallway, not sure what she was doing or where she was going. Indignation and deep concern fueled her movements. The hallway was silent, deserted. Suddenly, a door opened beside her and she was yanked into a maintenance closet. Bayley grabbed her, dragging her into the maintenance area, her grip was unbelievably strong. Becky, who was also built from iron, struggled. She gaped at Bayley, exasperated by her strength and she saw that Bayley was holding a syringe in her right hand.
“Were you following me, Becky?” chuckled Bayley in a deranged tone as she held onto Becky. She wrapped her arms around Becky in a tight hug and firmly pressed Becky’s back onto her chest while pinning her arms up. The clear liquid from the syringe needle dripped onto Becky’s neck, the needle was inching closer to her neck.
Becky screamed, while flailing her arms about vainly, “The fuck!”