OOC Posting for Hayden
I of the Storm
“Confessions”
“Okay, Martin.” Sully smiled, giving a nod that caused his salt-and-pepper hair to shift slightly. “That's awesome.”
The 46-year old watched Martin, who had spent the last ten minutes talking and answering any questions he was prompted with, give a smile of his own before looking around the circle of people of people that he was a part of.
“Thank you.” he replied to Sully before scratching his head, the mane of brown hair there covering a good section of his face. He wore an AC/DC shirt and ripped jeans – not that Sully was judging. Part of being in charge here was not judging anyone. In fact, it was pretty much rule one. That meant appearances of people as well – which ranged from street-wear like the previously speaking Martin to -
Casting his eyes to the other side of the circle, scanning the faces of the people that sat in the chairs that comprised it, Sully's blue eyes settled on the hooded woman there. It had been a solid hour since they had started and, so far, the woman hadn't said anything beyond the initial greeting. As well, she had not removed the thick, round, brown sunglasses from her face, despite them being in the middle of a basement of a church, which only a few windows at the very top that lead to the ground floor outside. In addition, The hood of her black coat remained pulled up and over her face, further obscuring her features. In fact, the only thing Sully could see of the woman was her pale-white skin, causing the spokesman of the group to, once more, contemplate if the woman was alright or suffering from some sort of ailment.
The concern was quickly brushed aside, however, as he had met the young lady before the session had started and had been assured, repeatedly, that she was alright. That her pale complexion was merely the genetics of her family and not something problematic. Still, he knew, from experience that it was not her skin color that accounted for the woman's mass concealing.
“Well, if everyone has spoken.” he finally said, clasping his hands together. “I would like to introduce someone that has come to try and... well, better their life like all of us.” he chose his words carefully – though that came easy to the middle-aged man. He had been doing this for the better part of twenty years, after all, having gone through it all himself. With a gesture of his hand, he guided the circle to focus their attention on the concealed woman he had just been looking at. “This is Michelle.”
At the mention of her name, Sully watched as the woman seemed to shrink back a little, as if trying to will herself to become invisible before the two dozen or so eyes. Poor thing... he thought, shifting his weight to lean on his knees. He understood what she was feeling. Had seen such reluctance to being here. It was because she was in denial at having a problem. Oh no, the pre-session interview he had had with her the other day had proven that ignorant was something this particular person was not.
No, this woman is terrified of being judged...
“It's alright, Michelle.” he encouraged. “You've heard some of the stories. We all are dealing with issues much like you are. We came here – we do this – to try and change what is holding us back. To... break the chains that are shackling our lives to sinking stones. And what is my first rule here, people?”
As if prompted by the question, the majority spoke out in unison: “Judge not, that ye be not judged!”
Sully gave a nod of his head. “Matthew Chapter Seven, Verse 1.” he added with a smile to Michelle. “Means we do not judge one another because we, ourselves, are seeking non-judgment. We must hold one another to such a standard so that we are free to speak our minds. And God wants us to be free, liberated from our pains of-”
“I get it.” came quiet voice of the concealed woman, though there was no irritation or meanings of rudeness in her actions. “Forgive me...” she requested softly. “But religion...God... gods... I have my own beliefs...”
“And that is more than fine.” Sully stated. “We try and keep things open and low-key. But, like I said earlier, we work through the church and...” He waited for a reply from the woman, who nodded her head.
“I won't judge.” she promised. “And I'm not saying I don't believe in God, or gods...”
“Everyone is different.” came the kind voice of one of the other members, this one an older woman, about Sully's age – whom Sully recognized as Susan.
“Why don't we start with something simple?” Sully offered, wanting to get today's session back on track. “Michelle, could you introduce yourself?”
The woman gave a nod before taking a deep breath. “My name is Michelle.” she stated. “And I am an alcoholic.”
A moment of silence came from the group before a slight chuckle came from Sully. “Oh no, Michelle. Not like that.”
“What do you mean?” Michelle asked in surprise, her body instinctively straightening up to an, almost, regal posture, shifting to the front of the seat she sat on and her spine growing more rigid. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No!” Sully quickly replied. “No, that was fine. But this isn't like television. You don't have to start with that old line. Tell us about yourself. Why are you here? What kind of things you like? What do you hope to get out of coming here?”
It was the same for a lot of new members, Sully knew. Everyone thought Alcoholics Anonymous meetings were like those television/reality shows. People coming in, saying that line and instantly being healed. It didn't offend Sully any, but still – such stigmas made it hard for new members to relax and be themselves. Yet, he saw Michelle settle a little in her posture before speaking.
“Well, I'm... do I have to say what I do?” she asked.
“Nope. Though I hope in time you will trust us enough to be comfortable here.” he offered.
“Okay...Uh... well, my wife and I – wait...is your church okay with that? Religion and I – gods, why didn't I ask this earlier?!”
Sully was slightly thrown back at how quick the woman before her shifted in her emotions, going from guarded to calm to panicked in a few seconds. It was almost startling.
“Michelle, easy!” he prompted kindly. “What did I just say?”
“You hope that I'll trust you enough to-”
“No, I mean the first rule.”
“No judgment.”
Sully nodded, adding a bit of firmness in his voice. This rule had to be instilled in new arrivals so they could remember it and feel safe. That was his main concern, making the people in his care feel safe. “You are a lesbian?”
Slowly, Michelle shrugged her shoulders. “Technically, I'm bisexual, but I am married to a woman.”
“And what is her name?”
“De-” Michelle cut herself off before shaking her head. “Not yet, please.”
“Perfectly alright.” smiled Sully. “Mark here-” he gestured to the shaggy-haired man that had spoken last. “Has been happily married to his high-school boyfriend for, what was it Mark? Two years now?”
“Yeah.” Mark shrugged. “But Greg would agree with me that it hasn't been entirely happy.”
“Now, Mark.” prompted Sully. “We've discussed that your issues stem not from your marriage but from your childhood. Greg has sat with us before. He understands this, right?”
Mark nodded before smiling, relieved. Michelle, meanwhile, watched the entire exchange before taking a slow breath. “Well, my wife and I – I promised her I would try this. I've been having problems with alcohol most of my life, with it becoming a real issue a few years ago. But I kicked it on my own and, until about last July, I thought I had kicked it for good. But...I fell off the wagon and just...haven't been able to really get back on it.”
“Relapsing is not something to blame yourself for.” Sully prompted. “Alcoholism is a constant struggle. But you need to understand that you don't need to face it alone.”
Michelle nodded in reply, saying nothing at first, but the movement of her head allowed Sully to catch a strand of platinum-blonde hair, which the woman quickly tucked back under her hood. “I don't really know how else to start.”
“Well -” Sully approached slowly in terms of his tone. “What's caused you to come here. Were your issues something you'd like to share?”
The young woman bit her lower lip before speaking, as if trying to choose her words with the utmost care. “I was drinking again to escape my pain. I blamed myself for things that... that others think wasn't my fault. I still blame myself. And drinking helped, helped me forget for a while.”
“That's the enticement of it.” Susan stated as she sat the closest to Michelle.
“Well said, Susan.” Sully complimented. “We have all felt that temptation before, Michelle. You're not alone.”
“Well...” came a short laugh from the sunglasses-wearing woman. “You wake up on the floor of a hotel room, vomit all around you and having called your wife and leaving a few – REALLY – bad messages intended for someone else and...” she stopped for a moment, shaking her head a little. “I couldn't believe I did that. And I'm...I've been scared of bringing it back into my house, where my children are.”
In less than a second, a tissue was held out in front of Michelle's face, held there by Susan, the older woman offering it with a smile. Michelle took the offered tissue with a quiet thanks, her hand reaching up to lift her sunglasses a little to dab her closed eyes. “Sorry.” she stated, not opening her eyes until the sunglasses were put back in place.
“I'd like to ask you something, Michelle, with this being your first time.” Sully asked. “And again, you don't have to answer.”
Turning her head to face the spokesman of the session, Michelle slowly nodded her head. “O-Okay.”
“I want you to think back to your past. To the first instance you can recall where your alcoholism began. I find that finding the source – the beginning – is often a great step. Can you recall that?”
The woman gave a sad smile. “I can.” she replied with equal sadness. “Because I've thought about it before...”
*******************
Many years ago...
“Sit up straight.” Ordered Anastasia DeCarlo as she sat at one end of the dining table, her eyes narrowed and focused on the small child that sat in the middle side of the table, her head lowered. Without a word, the white-haired girl placed her fork down beside her plate, placed her hands down to the sides of her chair and pushed herself to the back of the chair, straightening her spine as best as she could, though it was uncomfortable to her.
“Better.” The older woman stated flatly, not an ounce of appreciation or encouragement in her tone.
“Psst.” The voice came from the other end of the table, where the young man sat. His sound quickly earned the earnest attention of the small child, as she cast her sapphire eyes towards him. Before her eyes, the man suddenly straightened his own back, though his was comical and over-the-top. Taking the fork into his hand, he tried to reach the forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth while keeping his elbows locked at his side. “T-Rex!” he stated before moaning like a sad dinosaur. “Mwuaaaaaa! Can’t eat! Mwuaaaaaaa!”
Unable to stop herself, the young girl burst out into giggles, her straight posture instantly destroyed as she doubled over in laughter.
“Shall I eat the little one?!” teased her T-rex of a father, waving his ‘stubby’ arms towards the child.
“No! No!” laughed the girl. “Not me! I don’t taste good!”
“T-rexes aren’t picky! Besides, you look like you taste like vanilla!” the older man leaned forward only slightly, playfully growling.
“Enough!”
The cold, sharp, and loud command caused both father and daughter to freeze in place, both knowing they were in trouble, but neither able to completely remove their smiles as they returned fully to their seats.
“More nonsense.” Muttered Anastasia as she sipped her tall glass of red wine.
The father, no longer a member of the Jurassic family, gave a rather tired sigh. “It’s a little fun, Anya.”
“I told you not to call me that.” The older, blonde woman’s words came out with a hiss. “I am not a child.”
“But our daughter is!” came the sudden imploring of the man.
“So you keep reminding me. If you wish to waste her time with this immaturity, then so be it. But I feel someone needs to give a damn about her future!”
The child gasped. “Mommy just swore!” she pointed her finger at the woman, the black dress with the low-cut not really noticed by the young child.
“And whom is pointing her finger, Selena?!” questioned Anastasia, though it was more of a accusatory statement than an inquiry.
Quickly, and shamefully, Selena withdrew her hand, hiding it underneath the table. “Sorry…” she muttered under her breath, though part of her hated to utter such a word in defeat. Every little thing she did had some kind of rule attached to it, thanks to her mother. How to walk, how to speak, how to eat, what to eat – the young child particularly hated that aspect, her father having to fight for her to enjoy such foods as her father’s delicious food or the treats within the town of Nome, Alaska. Her mother was trying to make her into something. At first, Selena believed that her mother was trying to make her into one of those Disney Princesses that she loved to watch. Belle from Beauty and the Beast was her favourite – headstrong and true to herself – but that was not what her mother was trying to make her be. No, she felt like she was being pressed into becoming one of the wicked stepdaughters from Cinderella – being molded and pressed into a winning match for whatever prince would come by.
Ewww…. she thought, too young to think about boys as little more than playmates or friends. The idea of her mother trying to set her up like that…
It was such times that she was grateful for her father. Donovan Frost did not always win in battles with Anastasia in regards to Selena’s upbringing, but he did all he could…more, if Selena could admit it loudly without getting in trouble. In fact, she feared what things would be like without her father. Moments of it just being her and her mother were unbearable, bordering on terrifying. When father would work in the gold mine, searching for that fortune, or going into town for the odd job here and there to help support the family, those moments filled the young nine-year old with dread – Anastasia refused to work, she was from a wealthy family, after all.
“Are you biting your nail?!”
The voice cut through Selena’s thoughts – all the alarms in her brain firing off like rapid fireworks. It was only hearing her mother’s voice that Selena realized that her thumb was close to her mouth, the tip of the nail half peeled off. Oh gods…
“No…” Selena whispered between clenched teeth, practically ripping the thumb away from her mouth. Sadly, the nail was still partially attached, and while it remained between her white teeth, it kept on its destructive trail of detachment, causing the young child to give out a cry of pain as part of her skin from her forefinger went with it. It did not take long for a steady stream of blood to flow from the new opening.
“Snowflake…” gasped her father in alarm, quickly reaching towards his child with his napkin and wrapping the cloth around the bleeding finger.
“Don’t use the napkin!” ordered Anastasia, her agitation growing from each and every inconvenience. “It will stain-“
“I’ll burn it when I’m done!” barked Donovan harshly, taking Selena in his arms and ushering her out of her chair and down the short hall towards the bathroom.
Selena did her best not to cry out loud, her mother’s words of ‘ladies don’t cry’ ringing in her mind painfully. Conceal… don’t feel… she thought in rebellion, her father’s own mantra an embalming soothe to the needle-like pricks in her mind her mother’s words caused. Still, even her father’s lesson could only stop the cries, not the tears that fell from her eyes as Donovan closed the door behind them as they entered the bathroom.
The man, in his youthful thirties, knelt down before his daughter. “Okay, little one.” Whispered Donovan, reaching over to turn on the cold water to pour steadily from the faucet. Gently, with soft hands, he guided Selena’s injured hand towards the sink, unwrapping the finger and placing the hand, as well as his own, under the cold water. Selena’s bit down on her lip hard, feeling the sharp pain shooting through the tender flesh of her lower lip – her attempt to stifle the cries from the stinging pain from her wound. In their stead, quiet sniffles escaped from the young girl.
“It’s nothing too serious.” Donovan replied kindly, gently squeezing the finger to add pressure to the wound. “Once the bleeding stops, we’ll bandage it up.”
“Papa?” Selena whispered through sniffles. “Why is it so bad that I bite my nails? It doesn’t hurt anyone-“
“Oh yeah?” teased the mine-digger, holding up his daughter’s injured hand. His amused expression, however, changed – transforming before Selena’s eyes to become far more sombre and, there was no denying the sadness that had taken residence within the young father’s eyes.
“Your mother is… she’s trying to make you grow up – far faster than I would like.”
“Why?” Selena quietly sniffled. “Why do I have to grow up so fast? Why can’t I… be like you?”
The question seemed to catch Donovan off-guard. “Me?”
Another sniffle, softer than the others, came as Selena quickly nodded her head. “You’re searching for treasure like a pirate – you PLAY pirates with me all the time!” she added as the thoughts came to her. “Why can’t I just grow up like you have…”
“I…because…” Donovan tried to explain, but it was not hard for words to fail him. Not because he had no answer – but rather, he hated the answer with every fiber of his being. While he certainly did not hate Anastasia, per say, he despised the dealings her family and the Scythes had done, weaseling their power and influence into his family. The result had been a destiny that had been locked onto his only child – one that would see her married to that young Scythe boy. The younger brother. In return, Selena would receive a vast fortune from all three families, including the gold mine (which Donovan was certain was there), but it was a fortune that would only further lock her into a life with little choice (the Scythes taking most of the control over it and the DeCarlos overseeing it all like chess players).
To share such an answer with the only good thing in his life… He would only be doing Anastasia’s dirty work for her, forcing his daughter to grow up faster than she deserved.
“I really don’t have an answer.” He settled on honesty. “I wish I did.”
The child sniffled a little, keeping quiet for the next few minutes as Donovan continued to apply pressure to the wound. Once the bleeding had considerably slowed, the father wrapped a simple bandage on it, even giving it a kiss for good measure. “All good?”
Despite her finger being fine, the child gave a slow shake of her head. “I don't want to grow up.” she half-whined.
“I know.” Donovan tried.
“Can't we just leave?”
The question shocked Donovan, probably because the child – whom had just declared she didn't want to grow up – was suddenly asking a very 'grown-up' question.
“Leave?”
“Run away.” Selena implored. “You and me! We don't need mom. She doesn't love you – I can tell.”
“W...Why would you-”
“Because she doesn't treat you like it!” implored the child. “She yells at you! Calls you names! She's never said 'I love you'. Not to you or me! You say it to me every day!”
“Because I do.” Donovan stated. “But not everyone can do that. Your mother...”
“She hates me.” Selena's whines slowly changed into soft cries. “She's mean to me and she punishes me for everything I do wrong.”
“She doesn't hate you.” Donovan assured the girl.
“She doesn't love me.” Selena shot back. “Not like you do!”
He wanted to deny that. Wanted his daughter to believe otherwise. But he couldn't.. He could hide certain truths like Selena's fate from her, but outfight lie about love? No. He knew someone that loved Selena more than anything in the world besides him. But she's gone... he thought sadly.
“Stay in this room, okay?” he suddenly stated, his tone suddenly far colder than it had been a moment ago. “I'm going to talk to your mother.”
Selena nodded her head, remaining rooted in place inside the bathroom as her father excused himself, marching out of the room and back towards the dining room. Selena could not make out the words, but she easily could hear the voice of her father. It was not long before movement was heard, as if he and her mother, Anastasia, were walking, the sound of the screen door at the front opening and closing behind them. Despite the pair now being outside and Selena being in the bathroom, the platinum-blonde child could still hear the tones of voice, muffled as they were and unintelligible as they were.
And her papa was made – she had never heard him be so mad before. Be so angry. Had she done this? Had she brought this out of him? For a moment, the young girl hated herself for doing so. She had not meant to hurt her daddy by admitting the truth of her feelings and suggesting the father and daughter run away. She had only wanted to make him happy – and he clearly was as unhappy as she was.
She wanted to leave this entire town behind. She was sick of the bullies. Bullies like that meanie Gavin Scythe and his pals. She wanted to leave them all in the dust and leave some place different. Like Paris! Or Norway! Her daddy had showed her pictures in a National Geographic of both places and she wanted to visit them both!
A dull, yet loud roar came from outside, the pitch of it indicating that it was Anastasia's voice. It rang like a high-pitched curse from hell and Selena was instantly alarmed, rushing out of the room as fast as her short legs could carry her!
“Daddy!” she called out as she re-entered the hall, but stopped short when she saw her parents through the window, though they did not see her.
Anastasia, thus undisturbed by such knowledge, continued ranting and raving to Donovan, words like “loser” and “weak” and “failure” drifting through the walls and windows to be understood within Selena's ears. Each word she recognized as an insult to her papa and each one hardening her heart towards the woman that spoke them. Her jaw clenched tight, her hands tightened into fists.
But when she saw Anastasia reach up and slap her father across the face...
The child was stunned for a moment, but only a moment. Her mind began to race a second later.
This is all her fault! She's miserable because I'm not the 'perfect lady' she wants me to be! She's miserable because she knows daddy doesn't love her!
Angrily, her eyes looked around the room, for anything she could use – or do – to stop all this. But when her eyes settled on the dinner table... to the glass bottle of red wine by her mother's plate.
Without thinking, the child rushed over to it, grabbing the whole bottle in her small hands before rushing back to door – only the screen door serving as a barrier between her and the outside where her parents stood. Without thinking, she brought the bottle to her lips and poured some of the contents into her mouth. Immediately, she felt the bitterness of the tannin within the red wine, almost spitting it back up. For a moment, she was glad she was taking this 'practice drink' before she did what happened next.
“Hey mom!” she screamed, immediately earning her and her father's attention. “You want me to be a lady, like you?” she asked angrily, tears in her eyes. “A lady that hurts daddy?! Watch this!”
Fast as she could, she turned the bottle upside down as she placed her lips over it, immediately feeling the same bitterness fill her mouth. This time, however, she was too angry and hurt and gulped down mouthful after mouthful, tears pouring down her face. She didn't care when she heard a loud “NO!!!” come from outside, nor did she stop when she heard the screen door fly open. In fact, the only time she stopped was when, after several mouthfuls swallowed, she had no choice as Donovan, her father, knocked the bottle right out of her mouth and out of her hands with a still swipe of his hand. “Gods, no! Selena!”
Turning, Selena stared into her father's eyes – seeing the confusion and hurt. “What the hell are you doing?!”
“Mommy wants me to be like her?! I'm drinking her juice like her! Now she can't be mad at you! She can't slap you!”
Despite the strength in her voice, the bitterness of the wine was already making Selena feel queasy in her stomach, like it was doing backflips inside her.
“Oh what a waste.” came the calm, uncaring voice of her mother. “And she stained the floor!” that part annoyed her.
“Are you fucking serious?!” roared Donovan. “Our daughter just drank a ton of wine!”
“Well, then...” Anastasia shrugged before walking past the pair. “Take care of it.”
It was all she said before disappearing into her room, as if the issue wasn't worth her time. For Donovan Frost, however, he seemed torn, hating himself more than he had ten minutes ago.
“Selena...I'm so sorry...” he whispered.
“What for dadd-”
She wasn't given the chance to finish as her father suddenly seized her with one hand around the back of the neck. Before she could even question it, Donovan thrust two fingers into Selena's tiny mouth, pushing the digits as far back as he could. The child was too stunned to bite back or even move. She couldn't even breath. All she could do was gag and gag until...until...
She felt her stomach roar and cry before unleashing its contents upwards through her throat. Only then did Donovan remove his hand, allowing his child to vomit all over the floor. She retched and retched, her stomach on fire and more tears falling from her eyes. “Daddy...why...” she cried in pain as her insides burned.
The father did not explain, merely scooping his daughter up and rushing out the door of the house and to the Jeep truck parked in the driveway. Tucking Selena into the passenger seat in front, he rushed around to the driver seat. By the time he had started the car, Selena had thrown up again, this time on the floor of the vehicle. She knew she was dead – because if throwing up didn't kill her, her father was about to for getting throwup all over his car.
“Keep it up.” ordered Donovan, startling the poor child.
“Wha- I don't want to!” Selena cried. “Why did you do that?!”
“You shouldn't have drank that juice!” stated Donovan as he drove the jeep as fast as he could, refusing to stop for lights or anything. Fortunately, there was little traffic in Nome right now to get in his way. “You're too young-”
“I was trying help you.” Selena cried. “Mommy was hitting you!”
“Yes, and I could take it. Selena, there's a reason-” he tried before casting a quick glance at his daughter. Seeing the anguish on her face, he chose to not say anything more in that train of thought. “I'm taking you to the hospital.” he stated.
“Wha...why?!” Selena asked.
“Because you need to go there!” Donovan stated, the child unable to fully hear the fear and terror in his voice. “Gods... I need you to promise me never to do that again.”
“What if mommy...”
“PROMISE ME, SELENA MICHELLE FROST!” Her father roared.
“I promise!” Selena cowered, holding her stomach with both hands. “I promise, daddy. I promise!”
The rest of the evening went by in a blur for the child as the alcohol began to take effect. She remembered seeing the hospital sign, her father rushing her into said hospital...and then... and then...
******************
And then I broke that promise... over and over again...
Selena sighed as sipped at her cup of coffee, standing by the beverage and food table that Sully and the church provided for the sessions/meetings. She had finished telling her story about ten minutes ago, the group deciding to break for a quick drink and snack before continuing. It had been her last line of said confession – that she broke the promise she made to her father – that continued to resonate in her head.
Not even waking up in the hospital bed after having her stomach pumped that night had been a strong enough memory to sway Selena from eventually trying to drink again. It had merely been the start. And telling Sully, Susan, Mark and the others that... Selena realized that now, especially breaking her promise to her father.
Taking a deep breath, the Snow Queen of SCW did her best not to let depression take a hold of her. She was here for a reason. This was the first step in keeping her promise to her father, yes, but also to her wife! We're taking our lives back! she heard the voice of Deanna in her head, saying those words to inspire her-
The vibration in her pocket distracted her long enough for Selena to look down and pull the device out of her jacket pocket. Checking the screen, she saw the text message and she unlocked her phone to read it.
You've got this! Call me when it's done!
A smile came to her face as she read the words of encouragement. She really couldn't believe how this had developed. Yes, it was tough and yes, part of her was sure this was going to end in disaster... but... was it too much to hope that it wouldn't? Was it too much to... dare she say... believe?
“Michelle?” called Sully as he sat in the circle with the other members. “Care to join us?”
Stuffing her phone in her pocket, Selena turned around to nod her head. “Yes.” she replied, returning to her seat. “Sorry. Please continue.”
******************
Several days ago...
Selena sat at the table as she watched Deanna and Regan cleaning the dishes and placing them in the dishwater, the two women chatting about one another's children as they worked. Dinner had gone amazingly well - there were few that would disagree with such an observation. In fact, the whole day had gone better than Selena had imagined. Yes, it had been a risk to invite one of her greatest enemies, and easily most dangerous, into her household, but...
Quietly, as she turned her head to watch her wife and former best-friend cleaning, she realized the truth of her earlier words.
She's not my enemy anymore...
In the swirling of emotions that day had brought, seeing Regan, who had violently dismantled Selena in their matches and smashed Ravyn's face into cars and concrete – to see that same woman handle her son, handle her oldest daughter – handle her baby Amiliah – with such softness and care...
It was like they were the most fragile beings in the world... a small smile broke across Selena's face, unnoticed by everyone except her. And she'd rather shatter into pieces than hurt them...
They weren't completely healed yet – Selena wasn't naive enough to believe otherwise – but their emotional breakdown in Amiliah's room, the Snow Queen holding the Hellcat – part of her wished they had taken a picture of it, if only for Regan to proudly stuff it in the face of Bree and Sienna and the others. She could picture it, Regan showing the picture in front of a camera. “Think we can't get along? How's that, bitches!”
A quiet chuckle came from Selena, which, again, was not noticed. It faded fast, however, as Selena continued to think.
I'm still being unfair to her... Selena thought, though the notion was sudden – coming out of nowhere. Still, she kept going with it. She had taken a risk in inviting Regan here, that was true. But Regan had taken a risk in coming here. To Selena's home, where Selena held the power. This whole thing had been a trap and, though reluctant, Regan had come in anyway. And while Selena had tried to show that appreciation and trust by letting Regan see and hold her children – Regan's godchildren (she still wasn't sure if that was, legitimately, the right word), Regan had been the one that had spoken from her heart.
Even Regan was struggling. Not with SCW – their paths seemed clearer than ever. True, they had alternate views on Sienna and Mr. D. and other things, but if their conversation over dinner had been any indication, both women had agreed that Katya and Sienna were not the way to go either. The last few weeks had certainly proven that.
No, where Regan was struggling was the reality that – the hate was gone. What had motivated the two of them to such lengths, such depths of rage and pain against one another – the source of it all. It was gone. Burnt out back in July. Neither woman wanted to fight the other like that EVER again. Regan had confessed as much, unknowingly echoing the wishes of Selena's heart. They had, indeed, taken a piece of the other's soul with them in their battles. Now? They just wanted things to be... better?
Was that the right word? Better in SCW? Better for them? Their careers? Fighting to near-death, how many of those could they endure? No, Regan wanted simply to do her job. To wrestle. Be the best. Like Selena did. And Sasha was the best option for that. No bias. No politics. No rigging of matches like Katya had done...
“She so deep in thought she doesn't realize she's staring.”
Deanna's voice sailed in Selena's ear a second before the Snow Queen felt her wife's arms wrap around her from behind, the redhead leaning in to kiss her wife's temple. “You're far away. Where are you?” she teased warmly.
“Just...thinking.”
“I'll bet it's about our guest.” Deanna mused, casting a glance at Regan, who merely leaned against the sink, her leopard halter-top contrasting with the soft colors of the counter and walls.
“Yes it is.” Selena admitted, casting her eyes back at Regan. The woman's features were soft, patient, a far cry from what Selena often remembered of her former Platinum-sister. Quietly, she pushed herself out of her chair, smoothing out any wrinkles in the white-blue jacket that was part of her “Snowflake Diamond” outfit. The leggings felt comfortable for her toned legs and as she smoothed out her clothes once more, she turned on her bare feet, the twin strips of fabric attached to the backless section of the jacket (yes, she considered that design to still be a 'cape') flowing around her movements, Deanna remaining where she was with her arms around Selena – except it was Selena holding her. “Deanna, can you check on the kids for me? I need to speak to Regan a bit more.”
“Discuss strategy, perhaps?” Deanna offered with a tilt of her head.
“Somewhat.” Selena smiled before gently nuzzling her wife's nose with her own in an Eskimo kiss.
“Talk shop?” Regan's voice chimed in. “That seems to be a lot easier for us, I think.”
Turning her head, Selena offered Regan a smile as she released Deanna. Holding her hand out, Selena offered it to the Hellcat, who took it – had Regan's hands always been that soft? Hands...claws... that had done so much damage, yet where so soft. Huh... life is funny, I suppose. Selena thought as she made guided Regan out of the kitchen, through the hall, down the stairs, past the cinema room and into her office – the same place where she had recorded her invitation to Regan to come here in the first place.
“Hey!” came the voice behind her as Regan released Selena's hand and walked around the room. “I recognize this place!” she said with a smile, causing Selena to smile in return. “Have you read all these books?”
“Not all of them.” Selena admitted. “Schedule and all, but I do read a lot of them to the children when I'm home. Deanna does too. I rather film the 'Royal Letters' where I can be myself. Don't know if this will make sense, but they're... different.”
“What are?” Regan asked with a tilt of her head.
“My promos. The Royal Letters are... well it's me as a person. It's what I feel and truly think in my heart. Here, at home, I can be like that. The 'Frozen Central' segments are... I guess they're more be being the wrestler, putting SCW first and...and...”
“Being the 'Face of SCW'?” Regan finished with a smirk. “Don't tell me you don't love that at some level.”
Shyly, Selena smiled again. “Maybe a little...” She admitted.
“Nothing wrong with that.” Regan shrugged. “Praise isn't bad long as it doesn't go to your head.”
“Oh...so you're in agreement with the printer.” Selena muttered.
“Hmmm?” Regan asked as she looked around the room.
“Nothing.” Selena stated with a wave of her hand. “Muttering to myself. I do that.”
“So!” Regan clasped her hands together. “Strategy.”
“Yeah...” Selena breathed between clenched teeth. “Not really why I brought you down here, but since you brought it up, you sure you want to go first? In the chamber, I mean.”
Quicker than Selena thought possible, the brunette Hellcat nodded her head. “Undoubtedly.” she stated. “We both know you don't fair well with numbers. You're tough, I know that – gods, I know that...”
“Thanks.” Selena shrugged, somewhat embarrassed by the praise.
“But...” Regan stated. “Bree, Sienna, me, Christy... all it took was two on one and your chances went of success went from great to horrible in a second.”
“But that's the odds when dealing with an ambush.”
“I know, Selena – but... okay, let me explain, please. I'm not discrediting you here. But we both know who's going to start off on the other teams. Ravyn will want to go first because they don't trust Marie to last on her own and they don't trust Kim, period – and Syren's a chickenshi- a coward. No way is Giovanni going to let anyone lead the charge except him. And Sienna will either enter herself as 'The Iron Angel' or be swayed by Ikiro to 'fight for her'...”
“He is a bit of a love-sick puppy.” Selena shrugged.
“The point is: Ravyn being in there first means she's going to look for every opportunity to end it quick. Throw in Giovanni and Sienna/Ikiro and it'll be open season on you. Gio hasn't forgotten losing to you at Apocalypse and Sienna – well, you know. And Ikiro would love you take you down for her.”
Surprising, that was what Selena felt. This wasn't the Hellcat that was screaming and swiping and being a maniac like she had been against Datura or even against the Snow Queen, herself. This was the Regan that had beaten Ravyn at her own game of manipulation. A far smarter, tactful Regan.
“I can keep our team alive long enough for you, Kennedy or Owen to get out and lend a hand. I'll let the Hellcat out early to keep everyone done and distracted. Owen's the fastest of us all, they won't be able to catch him right off the bat. You and Kennedy? You are the strikers. The cannons that will deal the damage in strikes. Her knees and your feet. We need you to come in later and fresher to deal that damage.”
It was...sound. It was realistic. Regan was hoping Kennedy or Selena would come in later/last to tip the scale in their favour. Selena could knock out anyone with the Glass Shard or Defying Gravity and Kennedy could bulldoze anyone with her Touch of Class.
“What if you get hurt?” Selena asked aloud without thinking. “They could get a bunch of their team members at once and then it's truly an ambush. We might not be able to help you.”
Not to her surprise this time, Selena saw a cocky smirk grace Regan's lips. “I'll retire before I go out that easily.”
“I'm not kidding, Regan!” Selena pressed. “You just said ambushes could happen – look what they did to you at Trios.”
“But they failed.”
“I don't want to take that chance!”
“We won't have a choice if it does.” Regan countered.
There was a moment of silence between the two women, an impasse between them. It was, ultimately, Regan who broke it. “You trusted me to come here and to be here with your children. I trusted you enough to come here. Trust me when I say that I won't let them get that pin.”
She was asking for hope, for faith... Isn't that what this whole thing has been about? Asking Regan to trust you? Asking the SCW Universe to believe in your team? Believe in SCW? Believe in Sasha?
Slowly, Selena nodded her head. “It is the most sound plan we have.” she admitted. “At least between you, me, Kennedy and Owen, we can keep each other alive long enough so we're all in the rings and fighting.”
A nod from the Hellcat was the only response initially. “You said you had another reason for bringing me down here. This where you show me the secret dungeon where you keep the skulls of your enemies? Every house like this has a dungeon of some kind.”
An amused smirk and roll of her eyes was Selena's reaction. “Wrong Frost.” She stated before turning on her foot and walking to the side of the room. Her pale fingers trailed over the books until they rested on a dark-blue one with golden trimmings.
“The Snow Queen, huh?” Regan read. “You going to read that to me?” she teased but her expression of amusement dropped as Selena's pulled the wooden replica, unlocking the latches and sliding the panel of books counter-clockwise to reveal her secret room. “Whoa, hey...I was just kidding about that 'dungeon' thing.” she stated, holding her hands up in gesture.
“Just follow me.” Selena shook her head with a laugh, keeping the entrance open so Regan could do so. A moment later, the two were standing in Selena's 'SCW room'. Before Regan's eyes, she saw titles, tournament trophies, and countless pictures outlining Selena's career in SCW and a bit in IWC and UWA.
“I've got a room like this. David's got one of those too.” she added, pointing at Selena's Best of the Best tournament trophy.
“Bet it's bigger.” Selena teased.
“Size isn't everything, you know.” Regan stated.
“No, but you can fill a bra better than I can.” Selena shrugged before suddenly covering her mouth. When had the two of them – bitter enemies turned into reluctant teammates started talking so casually.
“Thanks...I think. But I'm happily married.” Regan threw back.
“As am I.” Selena smiled. “But, back on track. You came here and – and what I said upstairs... it was all true.”
“I know.” Regan nodded, keeping her hands at her side. “I kinda needed to hear it.”
“I kinda needed to say it, but...”
“But?” Regan asked with a tilt of her head.
“I need to say more.” Selena stated. “Because you've...you've... I feel like you just gave me more of your soul up there – barring it to me, I suppose.”
“Selena, I'm not-”
“Not like that, Regan.” Selena shook her head. “I mean... it was like... here!”
Turning around, Selena barely had to look at the wall before pulling a picture off the wall. Without hesitation, she handed the framed picture to Regan, who took gently in her hands. It took a moment for Regan to scan it. The image was of her and Selena – Regan was holding the world title with one arm, and “Woooing” it would seem, for her mouth was shaped in an oval shape. The Hellcat in the image was still in her wrestling attire and seemed like she had just been through hell herself. It wasn't hard for Regan to recognize this moment.
“This is when I won the world title from Ravyn.” she stated.
“Yep.” Selena stated.
“Why do you have this hanging on your wall?” Regan asked in disbelief, holding it to Selena. “That's also the night you lost the Adrenaline Championship to Christy Matthews.”
“Yep.” Selena repeated, shrugging her shoulders.
The night was Supreme Saturday: Guerre on the Gulf. Selena had lost her Adrenaline title to Christy in the first round of the Shot of Adrenaline Tournament, where Regan had defeated Ravyn in the main event to finally recapture the World title.
“Imagine if I had kept the title for just one more hour.” Selena laughed. “It would have been so awesome a picture.”
“That's what I mean.” Regan pressed. “Why would you have such a memory displayed on your wall?”
“Because...” Selena sighed. “It wasn't about me in that picture. It was about you.”
Confused, Regan cast her eyes down at the image, seeing the beaming, proud smile of the Snow Queen as she hugged the new World Champion.
“You never gave up on wanting to be World Champion. And even when Ravyn planned everything against you, you never surrendered. You kept fighting for that dream, giving it everything you had. And you got it... part of who I am now... I learned from you that night. And... I need to do that now.”
“Give me everything you have?” Regan asked in confusion.
“Yes!” Selena stated, though she was sure she was just confusing the Hellcat more and more. “You've done that! Today! Coming here! And I...” her hands clasped together, trying her best to will the right words past her lips. “I need to do the same.”
“But...” Regan guessed.
“I'm scared of giving you that bullet. That you'll take this straight to Sienna. And she won't hesitate to use it.”
“It's that bad, huh?” Regan asked, somewhat surprised that such a thing could exist to the Snow Queen.
“Yeah...” Selena nodded as she paced around the room.
“You don't have to tell me.” the brunette tried. “I think we're as ready for this Sunday as we can be.”
“No! You trusted me to lower your guard...I...I have to...otherwise I won't on Sunday.”
A few more breaths came from the Snow Queen, as if gathering all of her courage. “I...I am...”
The words still failed her. But when she suddenly felt a pair of hands spin her around and a crisp hand smack her across the cheek, followed by a determined Hellcat glaring at her. “Spit it out!” she demanded...
“I'm an alcoholic!” Selena spat out quickly, her eyes widening as she revealed her darkest secret to the person that could destroy her with it.
“And?” Regan pushed.
“And I fell off the wagon a few months ago, and it's slowly gotten worse.”
“How worse?”
“Waking up in your own vomit, having called your wife... and not remembering it.”
There was a moment of silence between the two wrestlers and champions, Regan still holding Selena by the biceps. “So you're an alcoholic.” Regan stated, as if struck with realization. “That's what Deanna meant when she said there was no alcohol in the house.”
Selena nodded, her body beginning to shake at her confession. “I'm the reason for that. And if anyone else knew – Sienna? Bree? Syren? Gods... Ravyn?!”
“What about Kennedy? Trinity? Owen?”
“None of them know.” Selena admitted. “Only you and Deanna.”
Regan's mouth hung open. It would have been easy for Selena to keep this quiet. Hide this like she had for nearly a year. But trying to repair the damage between her and Regan... the Hellcat could see it, just like it had been in the photo from years ago. The same reason Selena was smiling brightly that night – despite losing a title – was the same reason she was confessing the one thing that could ruin her in SCW to Regan.
She still cares that damn much about you...
The thought ran through Regan's head like a battering ram, almost knocking her over. Instead, she merely did what Selena did for her upstairs before dinner. She wrapped her arms around the platinum-blonde, the brunette being the one comforting this time.
“You need to see counselling.” Regan whispered. “Alcoholics Anonymous or something.”
She felt Selena nod her head. “I know. Deanna and I have started looking.”
“Then...then let's not worry about it.” Regan offered, causing Selena to lift her head to stare into her eyes. “Long as you've got in under control at work, we'll be fine. I'll make sure we're all ready to go for Sunday.”
“You're...” Selena sniffled a little. “You're not going to use this against me?”
“Did you use the knowledge Jennifer used about my medication against me?”
“No!” Selena shook her head. “I would never! That's...that's private and... it's unfair to use that.”
“Yeah, exactly. So keep your mouth shut. Don't tell anyone else in SCW and we'll be fine.” Regan stated.
Casting a look around the room, a sly smile suddenly appeared across the Hellcat's features. “Come on. I've got an idea. But I'll need to borrow something.” she stated.
Stepping away, Regan moved to the corner of the room that held Selena's championship belts. Carefully, she fetched the United States Championship from its holdings, handing it to Selena before carefully taking Selena's Adrenaline Title replica off similar holdings.
“Know it's not the real thing...” she stated, using her free hand to dig out her phone and place it on a shelf against the wall. “But we're both champions now, aren't we?”
“Y...yeah...” Selena stated, unsure of Regan's idea as the brunette tapped her finger on her phone screen. A moment later, she jumped back and pulled Selena close to her. Before the Snow Queen's eyes, the phone screen was right in front of them and was on camera mode. Selena saw herself, in her 'Snowflake Diamond' outfit, with the United States Championship – being the United States Champion – and Regan, to her right, the Adrenaline champion.
The moment they had missed by barely an hour years ago...
“Big smiles, sis!” Regan ordered as the counter on the screen dropped down zero. Quickly, Selena posed with the title, smiling like an idiot as Regan did a classic “ROAR” sound! The screen flashed and the moment was captured – a moment three and a half years overdue.
Placing the titles back on their stands, Regan scooped up her phone to show Selena the picture, the Snow Queen standing behind her and placing her hands on Regan's shoulders to see.
“You know what... you were right.” the Hellcat admitted playfully. “We do look a lot more awesome this way.”
“Told you so.” Selena teased, hugging her friend – her sister – once more. “I told you so.”
******************
Selena breathed a sigh of relief as she sat in her Jeep Liberty, the session of AA having just ended. Carefully, she removed her shades from her face and pulled her hood off, at last freeing her iconic braid with much needed relief. As she did, however, her phone began to ring, the song “Stand by You” by Rachel Patten filling her ears. Recognizing the caller ID, she quickly answered it.
“Hey, pet.” she welcomed warmly.
“Hey, minx.” came the reply. “How'd it go?”
“It was...okay.” Selena answered honestly. “I mean, it's not a miracle cure. Shelly says it's going to take time and always be something I deal with, but he's confident if I stick with it, it will work out.”
“That's at least something right?” Deanna offered.
“I think so. Some hope is better than no hope, right?”
“Right!” the redhead replied with a brightness that caused Selena to smile. “You heading home now?”
“In a minute.” Selena replied honestly. “I've not started the car yet. I gotta call someone else first.”
“Ah, okay.” Deanna understood. “Well, I'll let you do that so you can hurry home to me. Feel like Chinese tonight?”
“Absolutely!” Selena beamed. “I'll see you soon, darling. Maybe I love you.”
“Maybe I love you.”
Selena sighed contently as she hung up the phone but immediately began dialing a new number. Hope she's waiting... she couldn't stop herself from thinking, nor could she stop the smile that came to her face as the call was picked up after one dial.
“Hey!” came the eager voice of Regan Street. “How'd it go?”
“So far so good.” Selena admitted. “Thanks for the text message, sis – really needed it in there.”
“It'll all work out.” Regan consoled. “I know it all will.”
And maybe it was the past week that so much had happened, but – from the most unlikely of sources – Selena found herself actually believing it.
For SCW...
For me...
For Deanna...
For Regan...
For Kennedy...
For Owen...
For all of us...
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