Post by Deleted on Jun 26, 2016 18:55:29 GMT
La Guardia Airport, NYC || June 24, 2016 (off camera)
The exhaustion he felt as he staggered past the security checkpoint was so damned familiar his knees almost buckled with déjà vu. This was La Guardia, not O'Hare but as Lex Collins moved toward the baggage carousel, he expected to see his ex-wife Hannah waiting with Allegra in her arms. He blinked, shaking his head, trying to banish that memory from over a year ago. Claire would be here because she'd promised to be. In a perfect world, she'd have been there for his match against Aoki Zombie. Her voice would have been the loudest one in that lukewarm crowd – the silence had felt wrong, too. He'd been keenly aware of it. He'd spent the last couple hours replaying all the stupid mistakes he'd made.
Zigged. Shoulda zagged.
If he'd remembered to eat, he probably would have been sick hours ago but everything tasted vaguely metallic from that nosebleed he'd had – lucky shot and he wished his match had been the last one. He wished he could have been able to just keep laying there on his back after the cameras went dark. After the last body filed out of the small little arena and nothing was left but the fart smell of popcorn and watered-down beer. Instead he'd had to haul himself up, make that walk of shame to the back and pretend everything wasn't hurting. Before that buzz had faded, he'd fired up his phone, recording a little missive for Christian Valentine – couldn't even remember what he'd said. It was all a blur, lost in the pounding in his temples that echoed each deliberately level step he took.
Part of him wanted to shuffle his feet, but he knew if he gave into that urge, he'd lose the last scrap of pride that SCW had tried to strip from him. That was never an option.
The chatter of voices, the crackle of the speaker overhead announcing boarding calls, arrivals and departures was just white noise. It felt wrong. The air felt thick, a low buzz in his ears that he usually attributed to the residual crowd noise and the adrenaline fade. It sounded like cicadas and the humidity in the air despite the air conditioning smacked of too many sleepless summer nights. Summer vacation had always been the worst – he still felt the need to be as busy as possible when the mercury crept closer to 100.
"Fuckin' hell." The words came out under his breath, his lips still moving when the sound dropped out.
2016. New York. Thirty-two. Married. Claire.
Those five facts kept looping until he felt the tightness in his chest start to abate. He should have been scanning the crowd for his wife – she'd promised to pick him up, after all. He couldn't bring himself to lift his eyes from the floor, instead watching those scuffed black Chucks move across the speckled tile as though they belonged to someone else.
Sunday he had to be in California. Another fight looming. Even if he slept the next thirty-two hours straight he'd still be eighty percent at best. Flexing his stiff fingers, he sighed and reached out to deftly snag the handle of his gear duffel – five inches too big for carry-on, apparently. It was still weird. It felt so much lighter without the belt packed away inside and he felt a momentary twinge of sadness that bowed his head and shoulders. Another soft sigh passed his lips as he stood there, eyes closed while he breathed, feeling for a second like he was the only one. And then the same speaker came to life, paging someone to the courtesy phone. An elbow nudged him and he shook his head, eyes open as he took a step back from the conveyor belt, then two.
"Lex." Light, tired tones, breathy as if she were asleep on her feet herself before she reached to brush her fingertips against his upper arm. "Sorry, took longer to get through security than I thought, I wanted to be right there when you got off the plane. I was gonna," a deep breath as she moved to give him the room to turn around in the small crowd of cranky people waiting on their luggage. "Get you a coffee or something first... but you know."
"Hey," the single word came out soft, full of relief that was written all over his face when he turned. His bloodshot eyes searched hers, almost apologetic, "sorry. Kinda," one hand lifted from the duffel that the was still clutching awkwardly, pushing his hair back from his brow as though he was suddenly self-conscious about how ragged he looked. "Kinda outta it, I guess."
As tired as she looked her smile was instantly there, lighting her up despite it all. She straightened the hem of his shirt she was wearing, it still looked clean enough despite her wearing it in the ring earlier that night. Something about how he spoke though, broke through her own tiredness and she stepped in close, her arm sliding around his waist as she took a hitched breath and tried very hard not to sniffle. "Me. Me too, and I missed you there. So can we never do that again?"
"Never ever." The warm, solid weight of her body against his side was instantly comforting, her arm wrapped around him like an anchor that pulled him back to reality. "Shit... meant to look up the recap online but..." he paused, licking his lips, trying to get his thoughts to stay in order. "Did you win?" A small part of him hoped she hadn't, hoped that she'd fared as miserably as he had.
Claire sighed hard, deliberately hiding her face against his chest. "Yeah but no too. We won the match but it wasn't any... I keep hoping they'll finally send someone that can take 'em right, you know? Don't want 'em. Never wanted 'em. But they couldn't do it. Maybe next time." Another sigh as her fingers gripped hard in his shirt. "Is it like, pride that won't let me just... lay down and give up like I kinda want to?"
"Pride prob'ly," he nodded, taking a step towards the direction that led to the doors – to home, feeling like he needed to get out of this noisy, crowded place as soon as possible. "Is it wrong'at I kinda just hope the place crumbles completely? Then you don't gotta worry anymore. Maybe we can..." he swallowed hard, looking down at her, "heard a rumor 'bout SCW. Heard Showtime pulled their backin'."
"It feels really up in the air right now, you know that feeling right?" Claire paused, licking her lips slightly before she glanced at him, staying close as he took them towards the door, careful not to bump into anyone. "It's not wrong that they did though. Pulled their backing, I mean. After what happened I can't blame them either. That's throwing good money after bad, and look it's not just you too because I think half of what they said Kitty's husband did isn't true either. It's so shady."
"Sketchy-as-fuck. Kinda glad I got out when I did, y'know?" There was a hint of sadness mixed with that relieved tone, a bitter chuckle on the heels of that statement. "Last thing I wanna be is some fall guy for–" he broke off, sucking in a sharp breath when Claire bumped against his side, jostled by a crowd of teenagers who were more absorbed in their cell phone screens than where they were going.
She made a slight sound of annoyance with those teens but her eyes went right to Lex's face with a concerned expression on hers. "You okay?" she'd clearly heard that breath, her hand resting on his back patting it gently. "Sorry, didn't mean to. But you know, I'm not kind of glad you got out. I'm really glad. There was good stuff with working for them. Like Cancun. But there was bad stuff too, and heading for worse. Least, I think so."
"Yeah," he nodded, "everythin' after Cancun was..." sighing, he shifted tracks, "I'm alright. Just... little more tender'n I'da liked. 'Specially since I got that fight on Sunday. Guy was relentless, fuckin' stiff as shit so'm feelin' it – worse since I was stuffed into that too-small seat. Just gotta walk it off, y'know?" It felt like a lie. His ribs felt bad, shades away from being broken, probably. He didn't bother to tell her that his time with PAW was over and quickly as it had begun. There would likely be more than enough backlash to weather once the news broke as it was.
Claire nodded, smoothing her concerned expression as best she could. "Well we can get you resting up soon as we're home. And I can pack new stuff for us and maybe make some of those brownies you like best and..." she took a deep breath. "Already feels better, this. Even with being tired and you having to sit in a stupid little seat and everything."
"I'da folded up like a pretzel an' rode cross-country in the trunk of a car," his voice came out soft as he paused, hugging her tighter against him, ignoring the flare of pain from his bruised side. "Mean, if I knew you'd be waitin' at the end... I'd do it in a heartbeat. Every time."
