#egoforge

“Eh, what? What look? I’m not looking at you any differently than I always look at you….” That was a flat out lie, because truth be told, Becky had been looking at her husband differently for quite some time now, because no matter how hard she tried, there was no hiding the worry that was constantly written all over her face. She wasn’t supposed to worry so much. He knew what he was doing. He’d worked with, and through injuries before. This was his life, his passion, and nothing was more important than Seth defending his title on the grandest stage of them all. It’s what he always wanted, always dreamed about, to Main Event Wrestlemania, walk in and out as champion, and as his better half, she was supposed to support that, right? It was becoming increasingly harder and harder to do such a thing, because she was the one that saw what the rest of the world never got to see. The pain he was constantly in, the nights when he tossed and turned, missing out on sleep from not only the pain, but the mental anguish Seth was constantly putting himself through, and those were the moments that worried Becky more than she ever let on.

steps are soft, soundless as she moves through empty corridors in the back of the arena with a skip in her step, dark eyes searching for a place of peace and solitude away from the chaos of the backstage area. just turning around the corner, small body collided with what felt like a brick wall. down she went, landing flat on her ass as a yelp tumbled from her lips.

There were times when she felt like a soul lost among the masses. Wrung out and left to dry by Charlotte, there was hardly a person who could look Becky in the eye without it being laced with something else. Pity. Sorrow. Embarrassment. Made her skin crawl and her fingers twitch. She was starting to resent this place and these people. It was so easy for her to get caught up in her own thoughts, enough so that when she caught the shoulder of someone as she staunched through the hallway of the arena, she barely batted an eye. Gone were the days of the constant apologising and immediate guilt, no. Becky kept her head down, kept walking.

Or she would have if the shoulder she’d checked had been anyone else but Dean’s. Perhaps one of the only people left in the company who couldn’t have given less of a crap about the status quo, it was the gruff of his voice, the irritation, that pulled her from her state of ignorance.

“ Aye, watch where ya walking then. ” A half turn back towards him, that inevitable guilt washing over her causing her to turn fully toward him now. Try as hard as she might to be that person, uncaring and ice-blooded… She couldn’t. “ No, that was bullshit. ” A sigh, a shake of her head. “ Y’alright? ” She’d seen him take far, far worse than what she’d just given him, but… Figured Ambrose of all people probably hated the word sorry more than she did.

If she didn’t think she was going to get mocked for it, she would have burst into tears in a crescendo of emotions that she didn’t know how to really control. Her brother had been there for her the whole way through, despite his obvious dislike for Seth. But if she cried in front of him, he wouldn’t have been able to handle it. 

“How do you do it?...” she at least had the decency lower her tone around her babbling daughter, it was just a damn shame that her glare stayed fixed on the father of her child. A hand reached out and played with the mess of black curls that only set out to remind her that she must have done something wrong in a past life. That had to be the explanation for all her maternal tendencies becoming completely useless.

She hated how smug it made him. “...Make her laugh like that, and don’t even try convincing me it’s your natural charm...”