Post by Icon Lord Leon Corbin on Jan 26, 2015 18:58:30 GMT -6
Icon Corbin: ...and they lived happily ever after in the castle.
With those last words, he closed the fairy tale book and laid it softly on the bedside table of his youngest daughter who was now sound asleep and hopefully dreaming of nice things. Rising from the chair he was sat on, he leans over, planting a kiss on the three year old's forehead and moving the seat back against the wall before heading for the door and turning the dimmer switch off completely, leaving just the night light on. He closes the door quietly behind him and sighs as he walks the hallway. His oldest girl wasn't interested in being read to at night anymore, she was fully capable of doing that for herself now but still loved to be tucked in anyway because it made her feel safe. Shuffling through the winding corridors of the property that could probably put up the entire GZW roster if required, he finally makes it to the door that leads into the enormous kitchen. A flick of the switch sheds light on the room, and he heads straight for the kettle to bring that to life as well. In moments he's armed with his beverage of choice and wandering barefoot to the large doors that lead out into the vast open land. For all his issues in the business, he was allowed to just breathe, looking out at the nothingness of night and clutching his mug as he stepped out onto the grass.
Nothingness never stayed that way, not out here anyway. At night the world came alive with darker shapes in the gloom. Creatures more accustomed to stalking shadows made their presence felt. Rarely seen, but heard often enough to startle you out of a reverie. The low bellow of a cow in a far off field carried on the still air. For those more accustomed to a busy cityscape it was these noises that got to you. Tugging on long dormant fears while your imagination filled in the blanks. For Eva it had always been the opposite. Give her an owl screeching in the darkness over a car revving any day. Cities meant people, and people for all intents and purposes were the worst any nightmare could conjure. The light from the house threw shapes onto the lawn. A beacon among the darkness of the rolling fields and trees, it offered warmth and safety. It offered hope that maybe, just maybe the big scary world could be shut out. Flood the world with warmth and light, chase away the shadows and everything would be a-okay. That wasn’t right though was it? It was an illusion, created by those who needed to believe. It was all too easy to wrap yourself up in whatever safety blanket you had created. Someone would snatch it away before too long though, they always did. Her eyes had long ago adjusted to the gloom. It was no longer a matter of picking out the less hostile shadows in the darkness. She saw it all well enough, saw him pick his way across the damp grass, not really knowing where he was going. From far enough in the shadows she knew she could retreat entirely.
Step back into the darkness, let it take her with it. She knew her surroundings, could navigate them with her eyes closed. She knew if she really wanted, she could make it impossible to follow. She wasn’t out here to run away though, was she? Not yet, no. Right now it was just a brief interlude, a step away. Just one, there was no running yet, no brisk walking either. Just one little step, just for a breather, a bit of air that wasn’t stagnated. He wouldn’t see her where she was sat, not among the old trees. Their limbs reaching high with bare branches as if clawing at the stars themselves, gnarled and twisted. They’d given Lucy nightmares when she’d first come out here. The shadows were too thick, too real. Too consuming, he would have heard her though. Heard the rope strain as the bench swayed in the darkness. Immediately alerted, he wanders further out in the direction he heard the noise.
Icon Corbin: Evalyn...?
A moment’s hesitation, a moment where she noticed his lack of shoes. A moment brief though it was, where running was an option. He knew, he always knew and with the tact of an elephant trying to navigate a room full of eggshells he’d try and make her talk. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes on the darkness, on him, on it all. Her voice called out, it was stronger than she felt.
Eva: I really wish you’d wear your bloody shoes.
Icon Corbin: Ach, I'll scour them when I get in if it pleases you. But what are you doing out here like this?
Eva: It doesn’t please me. It’s the only way you’re getting back in the house. There’s slimy things in the grass.
The way her face clouded with vague disgust making clear she was all too aware of this.
Eva: Came out here for some air. It’s relaxing.
Icon Corbin: I agree. It’s why I am here as well.
She could accept that, for now she might even believe him.
Eva: Kids go down alright?
Icon Corbin: They did. Glad I wore them out earlier. Makes it easier to get them settled.
He doesn't even bother blowing his mug, the weather would be doing it for him. He just takes a good mouthful and exhales audibly. He looks at her, his reliable night time vision allowing him to see something was the matter even if she did try to hide it. Aware of his gaze on her she huddles further into her coat. She should be out there now, the wind tearing past her. The roar of her engine filling her senses, the power of the bike at her fingertips. Convenient though, how all of her keys had vanished at roughly the same time…..spares n’all.
Icon Corbin: Why does this feel more awkward than it usually does? We've sat out here together so many times over the years.
Picking at the rope of the swing she brought her shoulders up in a shrug. They fell away with a jolt, something she had already grown used to. The momentary pain doesn’t even register anymore, the passive expression she had worn all evening was still. With no indication of the dull ache now running through her.
Eva: Been a rough few weeks I guess.
Icon Corbin: Has been for everyone really.
Eva: Usually the case though, right?
Icon Corbin: Uh huh. So what's so different this time that you've been acting so strangely?
How he could call anyone out on acting odd was almost laughable, and she could have. Would have, had she not thought better of it. He wouldn’t see the humour, at least not her humour. He’d take it as a dig and then they’d argue, and she’d provoke. She knew she would, because he had clipped her wings, he had moved her keys and killed her ability to fly the hell out of this situation. Biting her lip she contemplates another shrug. He wouldn’t like that, neither would her neck. Right now it was at four Pepperpots. She didn’t want to push for five. Not yet.
Eva: You think you’d be used to the strange by now.
Icon Corbin: There's quirky strange and then there's something is seriously fucking wrong strange, though lover.
Eva: Maybe it’s just extreme quirky.
It was the wrong thing to say, she knew that much before she even opened her mouth. It didn’t matter though, he was powerless to do anything. He’d get passive aggressive until she offered him something. Some thin excuse you could see he didn’t quite believe enough. Her attention had already shifted from him, her hazel stare lost on the house. Seeing through its bricks and mortar, into the too big rooms and beyond them. It was frustrating for him, probably as much as it was for her when he was in any kind of bad place and Lord she'd seen her fair share of it over the years she had known him let alone been with him. But hypocrisy had always been his thing. He moves his head a little to block her view.
Icon Corbin: Or not. Why can't you just talk to me?
Her voice sounded far away, not hers entirely. Yet it was calm, level….and completely lacking in any feeling at all. She didn’t even look at him, didn’t want to see what might be reflected back from him.
Eva: Talking? To what purpose? Sure, you’ll feel better. You’ll feel like you made a difference, you’ll have something to pat yourself on the back about. It’s all “seriously fucking wrong”, but at least you tried. At least you reached out, at least you tried to fix………..
Where was her mind? The Pixies echoed back to her, a lost song from the depths of a misspent youth. Those hazy summers, where for a while things were good, she knew her place in the world, she had a direction, a plan. Her throat suddenly felt dry, her neck was on fire where she jolted away from him. His request for her to talk to him had felt like a threat. Her mind was everywhere, yet nowhere at all. She could pick up pieces, fragmented, broken and too sharp to hold without them hurting. Fitting them together took too much, demanded too much. Someone had unlocked the door to her fears, her nightmares, her half faded memories and held her eyes open while they replayed in front of her. In her darkest moments, in her deepest thoughts she was lost. Denial had pulled her through, that and stubborn refusal to accept anything. She’d created a persona to hide behind. Lived behind a mask, like a parasite feeding off its strength and walling away any perceived weakness. Eva Hikari was a legend, a fearless beacon to those trying to overcome whatever shitstorm life had. That wasn’t who she was though was it? Not anymore, not ever really.
For him, though, he just stared at her. She almost seemed like a stranger these days, as if he didn't really know this incarnation of the woman who physically stood in front of him. Yet he could feel a part of himself breaking. Whether she knew it or not, you push people away enough and they either try harder to help or just go in the path you force them on. He takes a moment, as if carefully placing sentences together in his mind with the time limit of drinking the rest of his beverage that was lukewarm anyway.
Icon Corbin: Okay...I don't know why you think you talking to me is to make ME feel better but I'm getting tired, Evalyn. I'm not trying so I can sleep at night. I'm trying so you can sleep at night, because that's what a partnership is all about. Or at least part of it. I hate...HATE constantly being kept outside, the proverbial door being slammed in my face every time I ask to come inside, you know what I mean?
She did look at him then, meeting his gaze for the first time in what must have been days. Had she been avoiding him that much? She couldn’t remember, could barely remember much if she was honest with herself. Though that was a new one for her wasn’t it? Fibs were all part of the coping method. Deny anything enough and of course you’d convince yourself it wasn’t real. It didn’t happen, in fact you heard about it and it was someone else entirely. Poor sod, you felt for them, you did…..but you didn’t have to feel yourself. A small part of her wished William was here, he’d been here before. He understood, he didn’t need her to feel it fresh. He didn’t need her to bleed again just so he could understand. The silence was growing, the hurt in his eyes with it. Gods she was tired, so tired. Right then she looked it, the life leaving and fading from her. She sagged in her seat, an imitation of life fleshed out without the parts to make her genuinely real. Looking away, purely because it was easier than seeing his pain, seeing she had caused it. She exhaled heavily into the cooling night air. She found her voice, and it was hers. Tired, worn and totally defeated, but it was hers.
Eva: Alright…….alright. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t even know how to explain, or what or why….
Icon Corbin: Give me something, Evalyn. Anything. Some see me as a monster, there to manipulate their every word but I am not your enemy. I just know it's cold out here and you are trying to walk through life on broken bones that never got set properly. So just try. I can't fill in the blanks for myself.
That was as good as analogy as she’d heard yet. Where it left her though?
Eva: I never said you were the enemy…..an uneasy ally sometimes, maybe. You push too much, prodding with little sticks because I’ve pushed you away and you want to be back in. I know I do it, I can see it even as it’s happening. The spiteful little comments while holding you at arms length…..I know what I’m doing, I know that if I push hard enough you’ll eventually back down. You’ll leave me alone and let me….let me wallow? Cause that’s what this is, isn’t it? I don’t fix things, I don’t deal with things. I lock them up and close my eyes. It’s not real if I don’t want it to be……then it gets very real and I can’t stop it. I can’t make it fade…..it won’t leave me alone….it gets too quiet and then too loud…..and then I want to scream and I can’t and I won’t because….because then they win, and it’s real again.
She was aware she was rambling, aware that sense was a vague concept to her ramblings. How did you put into words the darkness? How did you give body and feeling to the horrors that had been, would be and wouldn’t let you sleep? When the dark clouds of grabbed you, tendrils reaching and probing into even the most intimate corners of your mind, you were rendered powerless. She was shaken, her place in the world….a world she had created had always existed purely on the illusion of who she was. The risk taker, the legend, the Icon……and now. Who was she? Crumbling under the pressure of who she had been, who she was, who she really was….she was laid bare. Stripped and beaten, open to the scrutiny of all and worst of all, herself. The darkness had come quickly, silently, steeling in during the night. Assaulting her with deadly precision so soon, it wasn’t about the business at all. It was the trigger for the gun already loaded with too much shot. It hadn’t fired a single deadly bullet, it had exploded. Its force tearing open jagged wounds, destroying and pulverising anything in its path.
She knew why Will had really gone home, why he didn’t force her to talk. He was scared of her, scared of what this all made her. But the man before her wasn't Will and for him there was nowhere for him to walk away to. This was his life, warts and all. He knew she hadn't been the same since they'd returned to the sport in an active capacity and that every loss and underperformance shredded layer after layer. At least, that was what he assumed. It was all he had to go on. Even the children had noticed a change, and the questions were coming thick and fast. "Why is mum going out all the time if she's not on telly or doing 'wrestling' stuff, dad?" "When is she coming home? She promised to take me out." "How come mum wasn't at my school play, dad? She said she'd be there!" He'd exhausted every excuse to the point he would simply change the subject. What could he tell them when even he didn't really know why she kept running and that they knew her absences were not related to work? The audacity of it, but he felt like she had burdened him as if she even had the luxury. He sets his cup down on the grass, it had no more use to him right now.
Icon Corbin: But what's putting you in that place to feel like that? Those are all symptoms. What's the cause?
Eva: I don’t know…..I don’t….I wish I did….
Though wishes were pointless, they always had been. Years ago there’d have been a quick fix, a pill to make her forget. A bottle to drown the pills, fast bikes and faster screws. It was pointless, meaningless, yet it filled the void. It took it away and gave you a little bit of real in return. Not a lot, nothing meant to last, but just enough to pull you through the moment. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t so much been chasing the high, as chasing away the dark. Shivering against the hard wood of the bench she wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn’t that cold, but she was. It was a deep cold, a cold she couldn’t escape. It was a cold all her own.
Eva: I think…..it was a mistake….Going back, going out there. I don’t think…there’s anything…
She was speaking slowly, weighing up her words as if she stumbled under them. Choosing carefully and rolling them around before finally finding the strength to speak.
Eva: …I don’t think there’s anything left!
She finished with a whisper, her voice catching, and her eyes wide in the gloom. The revelation had been as much for herself, an admission rather than anything else. Fighting to breathe under the weight of her own hype had taken it all. Her own harsh criticisms had done the rest. Now, with nothing left to hide behind and nowhere left to go she found herself thrown out into the spotlight without a mask to hide behind. No stability to cling to. The only thing that had ever been certain in her life, the source of her strength, drive and devotion to the business was the trust she had in her own ability. Now, she didn’t even have that. She’d been hobbled, the uncertainty, the doubts it had clouded her. Left her, stranded her, made her watch with morbid fascination as the gun was loaded and pointed at her. The daft mare had finally tripped, and now it was time to end the misery.
Eva: Once it got dark, it all came back.
Avoiding him was a defence, not against him. He’d been here before. How many nights had he sat awake with her, holding her…listening in supportive silence as she opened the door? It didn’t happen often, but it had happened enough for him to know what she was talking about. She treated bad memories like most people treated old possessions. Box them up, lock them away, out of sight out of mind. Only every so often the locks would strain, the door would burst and you’d have to face up to it and start sorting. Only she didn’t do that, she never had. She brought a new lock, a new chain. Added a fake wall or another layer…..a new identity. Strength came from being someone else. Not her, not Eva……not the scared little girl. Never that, anything but. Now that’s all she was, all she could be and like a smack of spite it wouldn’t be enough.
Icon Corbin: You know leaving is just putting a plaster on a huge wound, Evalyn? Whatever this really is, we have to do something. We can't continue in the way we have been. It's not just affecting you. It's affecting the children...and us.
Eva: So how do we fix it?……How do I……
Icon Corbin: Find the roots and destroy them? It's not the wrestling world itself doing this. That just triggers the feelings, these...I don't know, Evalyn. I don't have the answer and to simply tell someone they need to deal with it is no different to telling an alcoholic to just stop drinking. Something's wrong but it needs sorting...somehow. What happened? What happened that was so terrible you can't cope if it all comes back?
Closing her eyes she breathes in slowly. He wasn’t there anymore, he was gone. That was bad…..but then so was everything else….and that was good. The owl still called out in the darkness, the wind blew through the trees. There was not a sound from the man beside her. Not a sound outside of the beating of her own heart. Coping was very much an individual thing, something that may shatter one person’s world may very well have been nothing more than a scratch to someone else. It was all relative. Right now she could have quite happily twatted him to get her keys back. Fight or flight, and she was so very tired of fighting. She might have even smiled about it. That would have been a first today. There was so much she had never spoken about, never thought about. She built a human effigy and gave it a name. Built a wall around and made it a subject or fear, of pain, of worship. An idol to be obeyed. She didn’t want to explain why she needed to be this thing, why over the years it had been chipped at, the layers crumbling away so all that was left was her. The broken marionette would never dance again and all she could do was pull uselessly at the strings. Defeat came easy to her these days, which was both a blessing and a warning. Opening her eyes on the darkness. The familiar plants and trees, the world she had created to mimic her safe haven. She avoided him, she physically couldn’t distance herself any further but that was fine. He was real, he was there and he made it hurt.
She didn’t know what to do about him. He saw through it, he always did. The happy bursts came, few and far between. A glimmer of hope to anyone watching the downward spiral, anyone who didn’t know her as well as he did. When they faded they faded fast and faded hard. Leaving her emptier than before, a hollow impression. She’d crack then, riding into the wind to convince herself the tears weren’t hers. The sobs weren’t there, the pain wasn’t real. It hurt more to share that, a weakness she detested herself for.
Eva: I will go see someone….Not family though…..Not your family.
He didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't the answer he was looking for and it certainly didn't seem to provide her with one either.
Icon Corbin: But in the meantime? You can't run. In the nicest possible way to say this, Evalyn, we are not free spirits that can fly, or ride, as we please. We are tied together and to them. It's not like it was years ago where we had only ourselves and if we self destructed, on our heads be it. Four children depend on us. Both of us. I'm trying. I'm trying to keep this all glued together as best I can.
Eva: You don’t think I’m aware of that? You make it sound like this is intentional….
That was not strictly true, there was a pill to fix everything if you knew the right people. Standing up she pushed her hands into her pockets, her head swimming. She didn’t know what to say to him and she couldn’t guess what the right answer would be…..no, not the right one. The one he wanted to hear. They weren’t always the same, and in this instance she knew full well they wouldn’t be. He wanted his Evalyn, the mean spirited bitch he’d fallen for. Eva wasn’t entirely sure she existed. This was a mess, she was a mess, she knew it. Couldn’t fool herself out of that one. In the old days she’d have been long gone, fuck him and the kids and whatever chains he’d thrown around her. She needed to think without judgement, needed to vent without expression. No amount of pointed sticks poked into her cage would provoke her into doing it though. It wasn’t safe, not here, not now, not ever. You can’t offer your soul, not like this.
Icon Corbin: How have I made it sound like it's intentional. I am trying to talk to you and if you think any of that comes easy to me either, think again. But if you are aware of it then take some responsibility. You go and explain to them next time because I don't know what to tell them anymore.
Eva: If that’s what you want…..
She’d deflated again, at a loss for what to say or how to say it she’d retreated. How far, or if she’d come back was anyone’s guess. She was no good to anyone like this. She wasn’t ignorant to that fact. That bloody owl was still hooting, somewhere in the distance it had found someone to talk to. It was too cold, too damp. The smell of the rich earth, mossy with overtones of sweet from the few barely alive blooms suddenly assaulted her senses with too much clarity, it was going to rain. You could feel it, the star filled sky would cloud over, it would get dark. Without a word and probably for the best she moved off across the lawn to her too big house. Real in its brightness, lifeless as the imitation from her thoughts. Watching her leave, he throws his arms up in disbelief before swooping down to snatch his mug and wander back to the house after her.
The kettle was boiling by the time he got in, her weight resting against a counter as she leaned on it to reach her coffee. It was on the top shelf, always almost out of reach. It was a scene so normal, so removed from only moments ago it would have had to make him pause. Eva herself seemed almost normal, the teaspoon in her mouth as she finally reached her precious. Of course there were moments like this, there always was. When she tried, really tried…she could see through the haze. She could rein in the fear and darkness enough to be herself…..and sometimes trying was the hardest thing to ask of her. She turned to offer him something, a smile? An apology? Whatever it was died on her lips with a shout from the stairs.
“MUUUUUUUUUM”
Her head turned too suddenly towards the sound, too quickly for her to block it and pretend it wasn’t there. It knocked the breath out of her, eyes closing as she swore through gritted teeth. It wasn’t the start, but it was a pretty big cause for her worry. Had she been checked out after her match? No. She knew what it felt like, she knew it wasn’t good. She knew it, pain like this was never good. With the teaspoon in her mouth she was barely able to swear, she managed a breathy curse before the child shouted again. Her expression clouded, but she clawed herself back enough to offer him a smile. It was a good act, good enough to fool her three year old son. Her extremely pale face gave him no cause for concern. She felt sick, sick as she knelt to him, sick as she picked him up. Sick as the visions fought and clouded. He didn’t see that, all he saw was his mum through his tear streaked eyes. Her voice sounded weak, as she moved the spoon from her mouth and planted kisses on his face. His small arms were round her neck. The pressure uncomfortable after the initial pain.
Eva: Who’s upset my Zippy?
Leon watches, brows dipping as he takes in the scene and then moves to remove the child from her and rests him against his own body. He looked angry.
Icon Corbin: I'm going to fucking kill him...
Ignoring him entirely her full attention rested with Lucan, whatever had upset him was forgotten long before he ever made it downstairs. He wasn’t even crying, not really. Just making noises and reaching out to her. It was a small distraction, but one she could seize on and cling to. She had her house, with its too big rooms. Lucan had his stuffed leopard, its fur too fluffy where is had been through the spin cycle. Leon’s thunderous look meant trouble. Trouble for her, trouble for Kolic…..She’d anticipated that though, of course she had. His anger was easier to face than her fears. If it was bad she didn’t want to know. The fact that it could be bad was enough for him.
Eva: Where’s his squishy?
Icon Corbin: I'll deal with it. I cannot believe you, you know that? How long has it been this bad? Before or after he landed on your neck, Evalyn? How many times have you ridden with your neck like that since?
Her look was deadly, though faded just as quickly. It wasn’t that bad, not at first. She could still ignore it, and she’d felt worse. She was beginning to feel trapped, it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t broken. She’d know if it was. She couldn’t do that again, couldn’t go there again…..The old house loomed into view, blinking it away she turns back to the kettle.
Eva: If you’re going to be angry, be angry….but put my baby to bed first. HE doesn’t need to hear this.
Icon Corbin: Oh don't worry, I'll get him settled and while I do that, you go find the number to hospital department you said you'd maybe call if anything happened to your neck, you know, which you assured everyone was just fine. We're going to fix this...
With that, he turns on his heel, looks at his son with a warm smile and heads for the staircase to be met with his oldest daughter, standing on the stairs and judging by her face, she'd been there a while...
With those last words, he closed the fairy tale book and laid it softly on the bedside table of his youngest daughter who was now sound asleep and hopefully dreaming of nice things. Rising from the chair he was sat on, he leans over, planting a kiss on the three year old's forehead and moving the seat back against the wall before heading for the door and turning the dimmer switch off completely, leaving just the night light on. He closes the door quietly behind him and sighs as he walks the hallway. His oldest girl wasn't interested in being read to at night anymore, she was fully capable of doing that for herself now but still loved to be tucked in anyway because it made her feel safe. Shuffling through the winding corridors of the property that could probably put up the entire GZW roster if required, he finally makes it to the door that leads into the enormous kitchen. A flick of the switch sheds light on the room, and he heads straight for the kettle to bring that to life as well. In moments he's armed with his beverage of choice and wandering barefoot to the large doors that lead out into the vast open land. For all his issues in the business, he was allowed to just breathe, looking out at the nothingness of night and clutching his mug as he stepped out onto the grass.
Nothingness never stayed that way, not out here anyway. At night the world came alive with darker shapes in the gloom. Creatures more accustomed to stalking shadows made their presence felt. Rarely seen, but heard often enough to startle you out of a reverie. The low bellow of a cow in a far off field carried on the still air. For those more accustomed to a busy cityscape it was these noises that got to you. Tugging on long dormant fears while your imagination filled in the blanks. For Eva it had always been the opposite. Give her an owl screeching in the darkness over a car revving any day. Cities meant people, and people for all intents and purposes were the worst any nightmare could conjure. The light from the house threw shapes onto the lawn. A beacon among the darkness of the rolling fields and trees, it offered warmth and safety. It offered hope that maybe, just maybe the big scary world could be shut out. Flood the world with warmth and light, chase away the shadows and everything would be a-okay. That wasn’t right though was it? It was an illusion, created by those who needed to believe. It was all too easy to wrap yourself up in whatever safety blanket you had created. Someone would snatch it away before too long though, they always did. Her eyes had long ago adjusted to the gloom. It was no longer a matter of picking out the less hostile shadows in the darkness. She saw it all well enough, saw him pick his way across the damp grass, not really knowing where he was going. From far enough in the shadows she knew she could retreat entirely.
Step back into the darkness, let it take her with it. She knew her surroundings, could navigate them with her eyes closed. She knew if she really wanted, she could make it impossible to follow. She wasn’t out here to run away though, was she? Not yet, no. Right now it was just a brief interlude, a step away. Just one, there was no running yet, no brisk walking either. Just one little step, just for a breather, a bit of air that wasn’t stagnated. He wouldn’t see her where she was sat, not among the old trees. Their limbs reaching high with bare branches as if clawing at the stars themselves, gnarled and twisted. They’d given Lucy nightmares when she’d first come out here. The shadows were too thick, too real. Too consuming, he would have heard her though. Heard the rope strain as the bench swayed in the darkness. Immediately alerted, he wanders further out in the direction he heard the noise.
Icon Corbin: Evalyn...?
A moment’s hesitation, a moment where she noticed his lack of shoes. A moment brief though it was, where running was an option. He knew, he always knew and with the tact of an elephant trying to navigate a room full of eggshells he’d try and make her talk. Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes on the darkness, on him, on it all. Her voice called out, it was stronger than she felt.
Eva: I really wish you’d wear your bloody shoes.
Icon Corbin: Ach, I'll scour them when I get in if it pleases you. But what are you doing out here like this?
Eva: It doesn’t please me. It’s the only way you’re getting back in the house. There’s slimy things in the grass.
The way her face clouded with vague disgust making clear she was all too aware of this.
Eva: Came out here for some air. It’s relaxing.
Icon Corbin: I agree. It’s why I am here as well.
She could accept that, for now she might even believe him.
Eva: Kids go down alright?
Icon Corbin: They did. Glad I wore them out earlier. Makes it easier to get them settled.
He doesn't even bother blowing his mug, the weather would be doing it for him. He just takes a good mouthful and exhales audibly. He looks at her, his reliable night time vision allowing him to see something was the matter even if she did try to hide it. Aware of his gaze on her she huddles further into her coat. She should be out there now, the wind tearing past her. The roar of her engine filling her senses, the power of the bike at her fingertips. Convenient though, how all of her keys had vanished at roughly the same time…..spares n’all.
Icon Corbin: Why does this feel more awkward than it usually does? We've sat out here together so many times over the years.
Picking at the rope of the swing she brought her shoulders up in a shrug. They fell away with a jolt, something she had already grown used to. The momentary pain doesn’t even register anymore, the passive expression she had worn all evening was still. With no indication of the dull ache now running through her.
Eva: Been a rough few weeks I guess.
Icon Corbin: Has been for everyone really.
Eva: Usually the case though, right?
Icon Corbin: Uh huh. So what's so different this time that you've been acting so strangely?
How he could call anyone out on acting odd was almost laughable, and she could have. Would have, had she not thought better of it. He wouldn’t see the humour, at least not her humour. He’d take it as a dig and then they’d argue, and she’d provoke. She knew she would, because he had clipped her wings, he had moved her keys and killed her ability to fly the hell out of this situation. Biting her lip she contemplates another shrug. He wouldn’t like that, neither would her neck. Right now it was at four Pepperpots. She didn’t want to push for five. Not yet.
Eva: You think you’d be used to the strange by now.
Icon Corbin: There's quirky strange and then there's something is seriously fucking wrong strange, though lover.
Eva: Maybe it’s just extreme quirky.
It was the wrong thing to say, she knew that much before she even opened her mouth. It didn’t matter though, he was powerless to do anything. He’d get passive aggressive until she offered him something. Some thin excuse you could see he didn’t quite believe enough. Her attention had already shifted from him, her hazel stare lost on the house. Seeing through its bricks and mortar, into the too big rooms and beyond them. It was frustrating for him, probably as much as it was for her when he was in any kind of bad place and Lord she'd seen her fair share of it over the years she had known him let alone been with him. But hypocrisy had always been his thing. He moves his head a little to block her view.
Icon Corbin: Or not. Why can't you just talk to me?
Her voice sounded far away, not hers entirely. Yet it was calm, level….and completely lacking in any feeling at all. She didn’t even look at him, didn’t want to see what might be reflected back from him.
Eva: Talking? To what purpose? Sure, you’ll feel better. You’ll feel like you made a difference, you’ll have something to pat yourself on the back about. It’s all “seriously fucking wrong”, but at least you tried. At least you reached out, at least you tried to fix………..
Where was her mind? The Pixies echoed back to her, a lost song from the depths of a misspent youth. Those hazy summers, where for a while things were good, she knew her place in the world, she had a direction, a plan. Her throat suddenly felt dry, her neck was on fire where she jolted away from him. His request for her to talk to him had felt like a threat. Her mind was everywhere, yet nowhere at all. She could pick up pieces, fragmented, broken and too sharp to hold without them hurting. Fitting them together took too much, demanded too much. Someone had unlocked the door to her fears, her nightmares, her half faded memories and held her eyes open while they replayed in front of her. In her darkest moments, in her deepest thoughts she was lost. Denial had pulled her through, that and stubborn refusal to accept anything. She’d created a persona to hide behind. Lived behind a mask, like a parasite feeding off its strength and walling away any perceived weakness. Eva Hikari was a legend, a fearless beacon to those trying to overcome whatever shitstorm life had. That wasn’t who she was though was it? Not anymore, not ever really.
For him, though, he just stared at her. She almost seemed like a stranger these days, as if he didn't really know this incarnation of the woman who physically stood in front of him. Yet he could feel a part of himself breaking. Whether she knew it or not, you push people away enough and they either try harder to help or just go in the path you force them on. He takes a moment, as if carefully placing sentences together in his mind with the time limit of drinking the rest of his beverage that was lukewarm anyway.
Icon Corbin: Okay...I don't know why you think you talking to me is to make ME feel better but I'm getting tired, Evalyn. I'm not trying so I can sleep at night. I'm trying so you can sleep at night, because that's what a partnership is all about. Or at least part of it. I hate...HATE constantly being kept outside, the proverbial door being slammed in my face every time I ask to come inside, you know what I mean?
She did look at him then, meeting his gaze for the first time in what must have been days. Had she been avoiding him that much? She couldn’t remember, could barely remember much if she was honest with herself. Though that was a new one for her wasn’t it? Fibs were all part of the coping method. Deny anything enough and of course you’d convince yourself it wasn’t real. It didn’t happen, in fact you heard about it and it was someone else entirely. Poor sod, you felt for them, you did…..but you didn’t have to feel yourself. A small part of her wished William was here, he’d been here before. He understood, he didn’t need her to feel it fresh. He didn’t need her to bleed again just so he could understand. The silence was growing, the hurt in his eyes with it. Gods she was tired, so tired. Right then she looked it, the life leaving and fading from her. She sagged in her seat, an imitation of life fleshed out without the parts to make her genuinely real. Looking away, purely because it was easier than seeing his pain, seeing she had caused it. She exhaled heavily into the cooling night air. She found her voice, and it was hers. Tired, worn and totally defeated, but it was hers.
Eva: Alright…….alright. I’m sorry. I just…I don’t even know how to explain, or what or why….
Icon Corbin: Give me something, Evalyn. Anything. Some see me as a monster, there to manipulate their every word but I am not your enemy. I just know it's cold out here and you are trying to walk through life on broken bones that never got set properly. So just try. I can't fill in the blanks for myself.
That was as good as analogy as she’d heard yet. Where it left her though?
Eva: I never said you were the enemy…..an uneasy ally sometimes, maybe. You push too much, prodding with little sticks because I’ve pushed you away and you want to be back in. I know I do it, I can see it even as it’s happening. The spiteful little comments while holding you at arms length…..I know what I’m doing, I know that if I push hard enough you’ll eventually back down. You’ll leave me alone and let me….let me wallow? Cause that’s what this is, isn’t it? I don’t fix things, I don’t deal with things. I lock them up and close my eyes. It’s not real if I don’t want it to be……then it gets very real and I can’t stop it. I can’t make it fade…..it won’t leave me alone….it gets too quiet and then too loud…..and then I want to scream and I can’t and I won’t because….because then they win, and it’s real again.
She was aware she was rambling, aware that sense was a vague concept to her ramblings. How did you put into words the darkness? How did you give body and feeling to the horrors that had been, would be and wouldn’t let you sleep? When the dark clouds of grabbed you, tendrils reaching and probing into even the most intimate corners of your mind, you were rendered powerless. She was shaken, her place in the world….a world she had created had always existed purely on the illusion of who she was. The risk taker, the legend, the Icon……and now. Who was she? Crumbling under the pressure of who she had been, who she was, who she really was….she was laid bare. Stripped and beaten, open to the scrutiny of all and worst of all, herself. The darkness had come quickly, silently, steeling in during the night. Assaulting her with deadly precision so soon, it wasn’t about the business at all. It was the trigger for the gun already loaded with too much shot. It hadn’t fired a single deadly bullet, it had exploded. Its force tearing open jagged wounds, destroying and pulverising anything in its path.
She knew why Will had really gone home, why he didn’t force her to talk. He was scared of her, scared of what this all made her. But the man before her wasn't Will and for him there was nowhere for him to walk away to. This was his life, warts and all. He knew she hadn't been the same since they'd returned to the sport in an active capacity and that every loss and underperformance shredded layer after layer. At least, that was what he assumed. It was all he had to go on. Even the children had noticed a change, and the questions were coming thick and fast. "Why is mum going out all the time if she's not on telly or doing 'wrestling' stuff, dad?" "When is she coming home? She promised to take me out." "How come mum wasn't at my school play, dad? She said she'd be there!" He'd exhausted every excuse to the point he would simply change the subject. What could he tell them when even he didn't really know why she kept running and that they knew her absences were not related to work? The audacity of it, but he felt like she had burdened him as if she even had the luxury. He sets his cup down on the grass, it had no more use to him right now.
Icon Corbin: But what's putting you in that place to feel like that? Those are all symptoms. What's the cause?
Eva: I don’t know…..I don’t….I wish I did….
Though wishes were pointless, they always had been. Years ago there’d have been a quick fix, a pill to make her forget. A bottle to drown the pills, fast bikes and faster screws. It was pointless, meaningless, yet it filled the void. It took it away and gave you a little bit of real in return. Not a lot, nothing meant to last, but just enough to pull you through the moment. It occurred to her then that she hadn’t so much been chasing the high, as chasing away the dark. Shivering against the hard wood of the bench she wrapped her arms around herself. It wasn’t that cold, but she was. It was a deep cold, a cold she couldn’t escape. It was a cold all her own.
Eva: I think…..it was a mistake….Going back, going out there. I don’t think…there’s anything…
She was speaking slowly, weighing up her words as if she stumbled under them. Choosing carefully and rolling them around before finally finding the strength to speak.
Eva: …I don’t think there’s anything left!
She finished with a whisper, her voice catching, and her eyes wide in the gloom. The revelation had been as much for herself, an admission rather than anything else. Fighting to breathe under the weight of her own hype had taken it all. Her own harsh criticisms had done the rest. Now, with nothing left to hide behind and nowhere left to go she found herself thrown out into the spotlight without a mask to hide behind. No stability to cling to. The only thing that had ever been certain in her life, the source of her strength, drive and devotion to the business was the trust she had in her own ability. Now, she didn’t even have that. She’d been hobbled, the uncertainty, the doubts it had clouded her. Left her, stranded her, made her watch with morbid fascination as the gun was loaded and pointed at her. The daft mare had finally tripped, and now it was time to end the misery.
Eva: Once it got dark, it all came back.
Avoiding him was a defence, not against him. He’d been here before. How many nights had he sat awake with her, holding her…listening in supportive silence as she opened the door? It didn’t happen often, but it had happened enough for him to know what she was talking about. She treated bad memories like most people treated old possessions. Box them up, lock them away, out of sight out of mind. Only every so often the locks would strain, the door would burst and you’d have to face up to it and start sorting. Only she didn’t do that, she never had. She brought a new lock, a new chain. Added a fake wall or another layer…..a new identity. Strength came from being someone else. Not her, not Eva……not the scared little girl. Never that, anything but. Now that’s all she was, all she could be and like a smack of spite it wouldn’t be enough.
Icon Corbin: You know leaving is just putting a plaster on a huge wound, Evalyn? Whatever this really is, we have to do something. We can't continue in the way we have been. It's not just affecting you. It's affecting the children...and us.
Eva: So how do we fix it?……How do I……
Icon Corbin: Find the roots and destroy them? It's not the wrestling world itself doing this. That just triggers the feelings, these...I don't know, Evalyn. I don't have the answer and to simply tell someone they need to deal with it is no different to telling an alcoholic to just stop drinking. Something's wrong but it needs sorting...somehow. What happened? What happened that was so terrible you can't cope if it all comes back?
Closing her eyes she breathes in slowly. He wasn’t there anymore, he was gone. That was bad…..but then so was everything else….and that was good. The owl still called out in the darkness, the wind blew through the trees. There was not a sound from the man beside her. Not a sound outside of the beating of her own heart. Coping was very much an individual thing, something that may shatter one person’s world may very well have been nothing more than a scratch to someone else. It was all relative. Right now she could have quite happily twatted him to get her keys back. Fight or flight, and she was so very tired of fighting. She might have even smiled about it. That would have been a first today. There was so much she had never spoken about, never thought about. She built a human effigy and gave it a name. Built a wall around and made it a subject or fear, of pain, of worship. An idol to be obeyed. She didn’t want to explain why she needed to be this thing, why over the years it had been chipped at, the layers crumbling away so all that was left was her. The broken marionette would never dance again and all she could do was pull uselessly at the strings. Defeat came easy to her these days, which was both a blessing and a warning. Opening her eyes on the darkness. The familiar plants and trees, the world she had created to mimic her safe haven. She avoided him, she physically couldn’t distance herself any further but that was fine. He was real, he was there and he made it hurt.
She didn’t know what to do about him. He saw through it, he always did. The happy bursts came, few and far between. A glimmer of hope to anyone watching the downward spiral, anyone who didn’t know her as well as he did. When they faded they faded fast and faded hard. Leaving her emptier than before, a hollow impression. She’d crack then, riding into the wind to convince herself the tears weren’t hers. The sobs weren’t there, the pain wasn’t real. It hurt more to share that, a weakness she detested herself for.
Eva: I will go see someone….Not family though…..Not your family.
He didn't know what to do with that. It wasn't the answer he was looking for and it certainly didn't seem to provide her with one either.
Icon Corbin: But in the meantime? You can't run. In the nicest possible way to say this, Evalyn, we are not free spirits that can fly, or ride, as we please. We are tied together and to them. It's not like it was years ago where we had only ourselves and if we self destructed, on our heads be it. Four children depend on us. Both of us. I'm trying. I'm trying to keep this all glued together as best I can.
Eva: You don’t think I’m aware of that? You make it sound like this is intentional….
That was not strictly true, there was a pill to fix everything if you knew the right people. Standing up she pushed her hands into her pockets, her head swimming. She didn’t know what to say to him and she couldn’t guess what the right answer would be…..no, not the right one. The one he wanted to hear. They weren’t always the same, and in this instance she knew full well they wouldn’t be. He wanted his Evalyn, the mean spirited bitch he’d fallen for. Eva wasn’t entirely sure she existed. This was a mess, she was a mess, she knew it. Couldn’t fool herself out of that one. In the old days she’d have been long gone, fuck him and the kids and whatever chains he’d thrown around her. She needed to think without judgement, needed to vent without expression. No amount of pointed sticks poked into her cage would provoke her into doing it though. It wasn’t safe, not here, not now, not ever. You can’t offer your soul, not like this.
Icon Corbin: How have I made it sound like it's intentional. I am trying to talk to you and if you think any of that comes easy to me either, think again. But if you are aware of it then take some responsibility. You go and explain to them next time because I don't know what to tell them anymore.
Eva: If that’s what you want…..
She’d deflated again, at a loss for what to say or how to say it she’d retreated. How far, or if she’d come back was anyone’s guess. She was no good to anyone like this. She wasn’t ignorant to that fact. That bloody owl was still hooting, somewhere in the distance it had found someone to talk to. It was too cold, too damp. The smell of the rich earth, mossy with overtones of sweet from the few barely alive blooms suddenly assaulted her senses with too much clarity, it was going to rain. You could feel it, the star filled sky would cloud over, it would get dark. Without a word and probably for the best she moved off across the lawn to her too big house. Real in its brightness, lifeless as the imitation from her thoughts. Watching her leave, he throws his arms up in disbelief before swooping down to snatch his mug and wander back to the house after her.
The kettle was boiling by the time he got in, her weight resting against a counter as she leaned on it to reach her coffee. It was on the top shelf, always almost out of reach. It was a scene so normal, so removed from only moments ago it would have had to make him pause. Eva herself seemed almost normal, the teaspoon in her mouth as she finally reached her precious. Of course there were moments like this, there always was. When she tried, really tried…she could see through the haze. She could rein in the fear and darkness enough to be herself…..and sometimes trying was the hardest thing to ask of her. She turned to offer him something, a smile? An apology? Whatever it was died on her lips with a shout from the stairs.
“MUUUUUUUUUM”
Her head turned too suddenly towards the sound, too quickly for her to block it and pretend it wasn’t there. It knocked the breath out of her, eyes closing as she swore through gritted teeth. It wasn’t the start, but it was a pretty big cause for her worry. Had she been checked out after her match? No. She knew what it felt like, she knew it wasn’t good. She knew it, pain like this was never good. With the teaspoon in her mouth she was barely able to swear, she managed a breathy curse before the child shouted again. Her expression clouded, but she clawed herself back enough to offer him a smile. It was a good act, good enough to fool her three year old son. Her extremely pale face gave him no cause for concern. She felt sick, sick as she knelt to him, sick as she picked him up. Sick as the visions fought and clouded. He didn’t see that, all he saw was his mum through his tear streaked eyes. Her voice sounded weak, as she moved the spoon from her mouth and planted kisses on his face. His small arms were round her neck. The pressure uncomfortable after the initial pain.
Eva: Who’s upset my Zippy?
Leon watches, brows dipping as he takes in the scene and then moves to remove the child from her and rests him against his own body. He looked angry.
Icon Corbin: I'm going to fucking kill him...
Ignoring him entirely her full attention rested with Lucan, whatever had upset him was forgotten long before he ever made it downstairs. He wasn’t even crying, not really. Just making noises and reaching out to her. It was a small distraction, but one she could seize on and cling to. She had her house, with its too big rooms. Lucan had his stuffed leopard, its fur too fluffy where is had been through the spin cycle. Leon’s thunderous look meant trouble. Trouble for her, trouble for Kolic…..She’d anticipated that though, of course she had. His anger was easier to face than her fears. If it was bad she didn’t want to know. The fact that it could be bad was enough for him.
Eva: Where’s his squishy?
Icon Corbin: I'll deal with it. I cannot believe you, you know that? How long has it been this bad? Before or after he landed on your neck, Evalyn? How many times have you ridden with your neck like that since?
Her look was deadly, though faded just as quickly. It wasn’t that bad, not at first. She could still ignore it, and she’d felt worse. She was beginning to feel trapped, it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t broken. She’d know if it was. She couldn’t do that again, couldn’t go there again…..The old house loomed into view, blinking it away she turns back to the kettle.
Eva: If you’re going to be angry, be angry….but put my baby to bed first. HE doesn’t need to hear this.
Icon Corbin: Oh don't worry, I'll get him settled and while I do that, you go find the number to hospital department you said you'd maybe call if anything happened to your neck, you know, which you assured everyone was just fine. We're going to fix this...
With that, he turns on his heel, looks at his son with a warm smile and heads for the staircase to be met with his oldest daughter, standing on the stairs and judging by her face, she'd been there a while...
