#worldneeds

it had been with him always, the hope that one day the entire arena would hear it the way he did in his dreams; 'accompanied to the ring by his father, from san diego, california, dominik m.ysterio'. the way it would echo, the resounding and solidified continuation of something the patriarchs of his family had laid out for them, worn on the shoulders of his eldest son not like some heavy thing but like a coat, a protection against the cold and the bitter and the looming. for now, and for as long as his ageing body allows, they show up together, raise their arms for the crowd and let themselves be loved in a way that only a mysterio can - returning it wholeheartedly, a devotion that only ever grows. they've never seen him, but they know him. every child rey stops for on the way is a reminder to himself, a declaration of his allegiances. the biggest little guy, living proof that hard work pays off, that an earnest belief in yourself and dedication to those around you works just as well as lying, cheating, stealing. every replica mask he sees is that earnestness repayed tenfold. every so often, he pauses to watch dominik, lets the boy go on ahead, soaking in the glory all on his own. he's taken to it beautifully, as far as rey's concerned. there may be bias there, to be sure, but there's nothing but pride living in him, worry chased out of the darkest corners of his mind when dom turns back, smiling, always smiling, as if to say can you believe this? and he can't. he never could. when dom was born, rey had ensured he and angie were alone when he pressed his forehead to the baby's, skin on skin contact in the pseudo-privacy of a hospital room. the mask was worn like a scarf then, pulled down around his neck and for once, for the first time, forgotten entirely. he does the same now, before he enters the ring, though the barrier must remain. his son's eyes are the same. "peace, papito. you'll be here when i need you."

"yeah, yeah." casey uses the end of donnie's staff to pull himself up from the floor, unbalancing the turtle for all of a second. could've used his hockey stick for the same purpose, but he's hurt and donnie's within grabbing distance. oh well. "we can't all be turbo-dorks, man. how about getting a few hits in for a change?"

alice laughs, the sound like bells in the dim oppression of gorilla - so many sour faces, so many what-ifs and we-shoulds. it's over now, so why bother? all she can do is look on to the next - the virtuoso never expects victory, and so loss never stings. "god knows we tried," she tells him, her pouting prince, hands on dominik's cheeks, a kiss lingering on his chin.

"you tryna get dropped, jim?" jey bites, chest held still by the brace of his older brother's arm. usually both usos froth at the mouth together, unruly dogs barking over the same bone. it's always strange to find himself staring at a serene version of his reflection, one that's harder and colder than he ever remembers it being. the fact that jimmy can be like this takes him by surprise every time. "don't you tell me to calm down! don't you tell me nothin'! you heard him out there!" the monitors in gorilla don't cut when they go to commercial. roman's still out there, soaking in the noise of the crowd, face set like stone as it always is. the microphone is loose in his hand, like he could drop it at any moment, like this doesn't matter at all to him. jey goes hot with first rage, then embarrassment. "you his do-boy now or somethin'? you gonna let him say that shit about us? about me?"

stooped, the corners of his mouth curled in something too sick to be a smile but too gleeful to be a snarl, the tongan tiger stalks his would-be prey. unsanctioned by the man holding his leash, this visit needs to stay between the two of them; if tama comes home bleeding, if he sends jimmy back black and blue, his little jaunt is cracked wide open. can't have that. no good! "hope you got your things together." he snaps his teeth, giggling like only a madman can. "hope you're all prepared to die."

once again, his older brother tells him what he knows. once again, it only sounds like the truth when jimmy says it, when jimmy spins legitimacy with his voice alone, when jey's thoughts are made solid with jimmy's words. they've always been like this, four hands and two heads, one mind, one heart. it's why he can't find footing now - all of the strongest parts of him have been taken away. jimmy holds them in the dip of his brow, the tight corner of his jaw. this is the man, the home of the rib from which jey was made. of course it causes him pain, this unraveling. "what you want from me, huh?" jey throws a glance over jimmy's shoulder, and he hopes it's noticed. hopes jimmy knows how deep the distrust runs, that he expects to be overwhelmed by numbers in some concrete hallway on some random monday. jey snarls, defensive and cornered, the small animal asking the larger to back off and leave it be. "you want me to tell you i hate you? that what it's gonna take? how it's gonna be? 'cause i will, uce. i'll tell you right now."

"she don't ask for much, huh?" he teases, watching the candlelight dance in her endless eyes. might have been a bit much for a first date (if she'd do him the service of calling it such), but what's the sense in earning a champion's payout if he isn't going to spend it right? what's the sense in charming her if he only does it halfway? the kids in the locker room might steal glances when she's under the spotlight, but trick's a man, now. he'll stand solid no matter where he is, no matter the beauty of the woman in the seat across from him. "a'ight, princess. you got it. want me to carry you outta here, too?"

brandon sighs lightly, his cheek pressed against the heel of his hand. "i am so in love with you," he tells her, dripping the kind of sincerity he usually saves for the men staring him down from the opposite corner. "where have you been this whole time? you know, the boys in the back..." he shakes his head, flips his braids over one shoulder with an unapologetically lax hand. "they're cute, but they're not smart. it's been killing me, having to sit here and coach them through this. not you, chels. can i keep you?"