“Gloves… check. Boots… check. IcyHot for after the match… check.”
Wendy Briese muttered to herself as she ran down her pre-match checklist for the fourth time. She knew it seemed obsessive- almost paranoid- and she knew that her husband and daughter were downstairs in the hotel’s lobby getting annoyed, but still, she’d rather take another five minutes now and be absolutely CERTAIN she had everything, than getting to the arena and discovering she had forgotten something.
Wendigo wasn’t the kind of opponent you could afford to have mental lapses against, after all.
“And spare bootlaces… check!” Wendy said, reaching the bottom of her list, and tucking it into a side pocket of her duffel bag. She quickly zipped the bag up, making sure nothing had spilled out (thus forcing her to redo the checklist for a sixth time), and hoisted the strap over her shoulder, taking one final moment to look in the mirror and adjust her hair, then opening the hotel room door and stepping out into the hallway.
Only to find Chernobyl blocking her path.
Wendy took a step backwards at the sight of her half-brother blocking her way, her eyes darting around for signs of an ambush. If Yuri was here, that psychotic witch was likely not far away, although near as the redhead could tell, the corridor was just her and the seven foot tall monster who stood awkwardly staring at her.
“Hey,” the Ukrainian mumbled, nervously shifting his weight on his feet.
Wendy’s eyes narrowed, and she fought the impulse to take a few steps further back- or to just turn tail and flee down the hall. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.
“I’m here for Uprising,” Yuri replied, as if that was all the explanation that was required.
It was truth enough- Yuri was in SVW after all, so of course he’d be attending the show, regardless of whether or not his half-sister was making a guest appearance. But for him to be in THIS hotel, in THIS hallway… outside HER door… no, that was too much to be a coincidence.
“Well, you better get going,” Wendy said harshly. “Show’s in less than two hours, and I’m sure you and Jessika don’t want to be late.”
Yuri shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Wendy supposed it didn’t, neither member of “Radioactive Love” was scheduled to compete tonight, after all. But whatever she could say or do to get this freak out of the hallway with her…
Yuri scratched his head and shrugged again. “I was…uh… hoping to talk to you.”
“About what?” Wendy snapped again, her eyes narrowing. She couldn’t imagine a single encounter she’d had with her half brother over the past decade that she had any desire to relive, or even discuss.
“Belfast.” Was the simple, heavily accented reply. “You… seemed repulsed at our gesture.”
“You used my dead father’s corpse as a puppet,” Wendy said simply, as if that explained everything. “I’m sure you and Jessika thought that was hilarious, but I thought it was… well, disgusting. And repulsive. And disrespectful.”
“Of course it was disrespectful. It was intended to be.”
“Well, good job on that, then,” Wendy said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
“By being willing to desecrate his corpse, I’ve shown you that I’ve moved on from his influence. I’m no longer bound by the hatred our father instilled in me. I am my own man now, and free to make my own decisions.”
Those decisions being to shack up with Jessika Hexstar, Wendy thought disgustedly, but held her tongue. Instead she just folded her arms impatiently, tapping her foot for added effect.
The gesture seemed to rattle Yuri slightly, and he fumbled his words. “Look, I’ve done some horrible things. Things I’m not proud of. Things I paid dearly for,” he grasped his shoulder- the same shoulder Wendy had shot two years ago, as if the mere memory made the scar hurt. “I’m trying to atone for what I’ve done, and make things right again.”
“So you’re going to atone for the way you treated Leander Apollo and Vanessa Cade?” Wendy asked bluntly.
Yuri stared at her incredulously. “That’s part of the atonement. Vanessa and Leander are apostates of the highest order, and Mistress Star demands that they be punished for their heresy.” He paused as if internally debating something, before adding “Just as She demands that I reconcile with you.”
For a second, Wendy felt a flash of anger towards the FFW owner, before reminding herself that the Samantha Star who was her boss and the Samantha Star these two clowns worshipped weren’t exactly identical. In fact, she probably had a better grasp of both the divinity and intentions of the woman than her half-brother or his girlfriend, although she really didn’t think getting into a theological debate on the matter was the best idea. Not if she wanted to end this confrontation as quick as possible and be on her way.
“I don’t think it’s any of Ms. Star’s business what I do or don’t do in my personal life so long as I fulfill my obligations to my contract,” Wendy said coldly. “And if it was, I’d like to think that she’d come and talk to ME about it, since, you know, I work for her.”
Yuri shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. She wants ME to make up with YOU. I have to make the effort and the take the steps. This is my penance, not yours.”
“And if I tell you to go to hell, what will you do?”
Yuri shrugged resignedly. “Keep trying. A true pilgrim does not give up the road just because he falls once.”
That was the answer Wendy was least hoping to hear. “Well, stop trying. Because I’ll save you the time and effort. It’s NEVER going to happen. Ever.”
“Ever is a long time,” Yuri pointed out.
“Not long enough.” Wendy seethed. “You think I don’t remember the night I was kidnapped, when you tried to fight me to the DEATH? You think I’ve forgotten what you’ve done to my friends? Or, God help me, that YOU were the one who pushed my MOTHER in front of a semi-truck? YOU should be rotting in jail right now, not out on… whatever godforsaken technicality you somehow managed to weasel out of. You should be rotting in jail ten times over for ten eternities for what you have done, but you’re not. So the least you could possibly do is LEAVE ME ALONE.”
Yuri looked down at his feet, somehow managing to have the decency to look somewhat chagrined at Wendy’s outburst. “You’re right. I should be still in jail. I should be there for a long time more. But I’m not. I’m not because I was given a new purpose in life. A chance to redeem myself, thanks to the glorious Savior that is Mistress Star-“
“Oh, to HELL with ‘Mistress Star’,” Wendy snapped, losing all patience. “She’s not a goddess or messiah or anything besides a very capable wrestling owner. Her divinity is the psychotic delusions of the despicable wretch you call a girlfriend and nothing more!”
Wendy was almost shocked by the flash of rage that appeared in Yuri’s eyes, and for a second, she thought he was going to finally attack her. But he calmed quickly, fixing her with a level stare that still seemed malevolent. “I would be very careful about how I phrase my blasphemies.”
“Or what?” Wendy hissed. “I’ll get taken off the ‘reconcile’ list and put on the ‘apostate’ list? Cause, yeah, that would be an absolute shame.”
Yuri didn’t respond, just fixated Wendy with a hard stare. “You understand so little,” he said slowly.
Wendy laughed coldly. “I understand FAR more than you do. And I understand that this conversation’s over. I’ve kept my REAL family waiting far too long.” She smirked in satisfaction at the flash of anger in Yuri’s eyes at that remark. “Now move out of the way, or I’ll make you move.”
Yuri stared at her for a long time, and Wendy tensed, ready for the coming fight. But Yuri turned, and pressed his back against the corridor’s wall, freeing up the hallway for passage. Wendy paused for just a second, unsure whether it’s a setup, then shrugged and stormed past, not bothering to look back at her half-brother, figuring the echoes of boots would clue a charge well enough for her to react. But none came anyways, and soon Wendy was on the downward elevator, making a mental note to herself about talking to the desk and having security keep an eye on her room. No sense leaving to chance anyone breaking in there and snooping around while she was out wrestling.
But as she stepped off the elevator, and returned her husband’s impatient wave, she couldn’t help but admit that things had changed slightly from the Yuri she knew. The old Yuri wouldn’t have stepped aside for her in that hallway.
The old Yuri wouldn’t have let her leave that hallway alive.
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