JC slowly sat up on the hood of the car his body was just thrown into. He noticed his forehead was bleeding again. He felt a tingle down his arm and worried that his neck was injured again, then he got the feeling back and realized it was because he was laying on it.
Sebastian Steel, Zodiac, some Japanese wrestler and Jesse Jamester, of all people, just assaulted The Rogues. His head throbbed and his neck was immensely sore. The entire situation seemed like a blur to him, as he was still coming down from his own assault on Shaun Stewart minutes before.
He spat blood onto the floor as the faces of anonymous medical staff stared at him, trying to check his condition. Chris Green and Kid Dynamo were among the faces. For JC, there was one important question that needed to be answered.
"Where the fuck are they?"
He forced his body to move when all it wanted to do was stay where it was. The dented car was holding his 6'5" frame in a twisted lover's embrace, the hood beckoning him to slip into unconsciousness against the cool metal.
He heard the voice of Kid Dynamo, but it sounded far away. He felt as though he were in a tunnel and Dynamo was shouting at him from the other end.
"Easy Joe, we'll get them."
He waved off the medical staff. To his brief amusement, they backed away when he did, as they saw what he did to several of their number earlier in the evening. He knew what a concussion felt like and he knew when he was simply beat up instead of hurt. This was just a bunch of bruises and sore muscles. His mouth was bloodied, but as far as he could tell there were no cuts outside of the one Stewart gave him. All things considered, he was very lucky.
He glanced over at Trent Steel, who had it far worse after he was sent crashing into the windshield.
"Trent..."
He coughed as he tried to resume his normal breathing pattern. He definitely had the wind knocked out of him.
"You good?"
Trent's hair was matted with blood and he looked like he hit by a moving car instead of being thrown onto one that was parked.
"Never better, big man."
JC knew that was a lie, but Trent would know better than anyone else how he felt. Either way, that was all he needed to hear. He watched the cameras moving away, so he knew the OWF broadcast was moving on. That was alright with him.
"Good. Because I'm about to tear those fuckers into pieces."
Dynamo gave him an incredulous look. JC was now on his feet and cracked his neck from side to side. He felt a sharp pain radiate down his spine and he was sure he had some muscle strain. He'd be feeling all of this in the morning. Strangely, he didn't hear the voice now, although he was sure he should be.
Truth be told, he only had a vague recollection of the actual attack. He was experiencing the strange emotional comedown he usually has after the highs of letting his id run away and do its own thing.
He was feeling down in general, coming down from the mania that carried him through beating the life out of Shaun Stewart. He would almost describe the situation as a switch being turned off. Once the adrenaline from the match wore off and he saw what he did, he wasn't sure how to react. He was in a fog as he walked backstage and that fog was still thick as he tried to psyche himself into getting ready for another fight.
He was entirely rational and had no inner demons telling him what to do. He wondered if that made him more dangerous or less dangerous than usual. Dynamo wondered something else.
"You can't be serious, right? You just got your head driven into a car. Go to the damn hospital."
"Do I look like I'm fucking joking?"
Dynamo threw his hands up in the air and walked over to Green. He tapped him on the arm and nodded in another direction.
"Trent, you're better at dealing with this than I am. Have fun."
The two walked away rather than get involved with what they felt was an enraged JC. He didn't blame them, but he didn't actually feel the bloodlust right now. He was angry and he wanted to get vengeance, but he almost felt as though he was going through the motions. This is was how he was supposed to act, right? He already got all of his aggression out earlier. Even though he was sore and fatigued, he felt he should seek out Jamester and his cronies and give them a little of what they gave him.
He didn't need a voice to tell him that's what he should do. But he did wonder if it's what he really wanted to do. He was very tired.
"Come on Trent, let's give them a little old school Rogues and let them know what they did wrong."
Trent staggered to his feet. It was clear he was in no condition to fight anyone. He pushed his blood-soaked hair out of his eyes and weakly smirked at his partner.
"Sure, Joe. I can barely walk, but let's go get in another fight. While we're at it let's go tickle Angel. I think if we're gonna go fuck ourselves. We go big or we go home."
"Fine, you stay here. I'll take care of it myself. Wouldn't be the first OWF stable I destroyed on my own."
He started to leave, not even entirely sure of what he'd do when he found them. Trent shuffled forward, calling his name.
"JC..."
JC kept moving back to the arena, attempting to ignore his tag team partner.
"Joe..."
He moved farther away, almost leaving earshot of Trent. That was quickly remedied.
"WOULD YOU FUCKING WAIT A MINUTE?"
That was enough to get him to stop. He turned around and walked back, glaring at Trent as he did it. JC could once again taste his own blood and realized that his forehead hadn't been stitched yet. He spat a red glob of drying plasma onto the parking lot floor.
"Are you helping me or not? I don't have time to argue about it."
"I'm not. I have a match later. You're not doing anything either."
"Trent..."
"Shut up and listen to me for a fucking minute. For fuck's sake, you're bleeding and moving like a fat man through quicksand. Those four would pick you apart. You can't save the OWF or whatever you want to do from intensive care, Joe. I don't think what's best for us is for us to end up in the hospital tonight. You can't take on four guys at once right now."
"Then I'll take one of them with me."
He turned back around and resumed his course backstage, but this time Trent stepped forward and grabbed his elbow, firmly, and spun him around. It wasn't hard to do, even in Trent's weakened condition. It angered JC to the point that his other hand curled into a fist. Then he remembered who he was looking at and relaxed a little.
"Look...I have Zodiac tonight. He's part of that six-man tag. In fact, I have to go out there right now and I've been kicked to shit. I've went through a god damn beatdown from hell Joe. So guess what, I'm probably not getting that Network title shot tonight. You don't think that pisses me off? You don't think I don't wanna go down there and raise hell tonight? I want to fucking kill 'em. But instead I'll take care of Zodiac tonight and then we'll go to Johnson...as a unit...and request a match with Jamester."
"You're not going to do anything to him. You leave him to me."
"Because that worked so well the last time."
He knew before he said it that he should have kept his mouth shut. Now it was Trent's turn to feel annoyed. He glanced down and saw Trent's hand shaking ever so slightly. Before anything else could happen, they both heard the voice of Chrimeny Christmas echoing from the arena, announcing the start of the next match.
"I've got shit to take care of. Try not to get yourself beat up again. Go to a doctor Joe. Get yourself taken care of and go home. You look like shit. If you aren't gonna listen to me then think of it this way. Are you gonna do Stacy any good if you're in a body cast? I hate to pull that card buddy. You aren't thinking right now. You're angry. I get it. You're pissed. You know what though...that's their fuck up. They've made you angry and now they're gonna pay. Just. Wait...okay?"
"We're not doing this here. Follow me."
He started back towards the arena, in the direction of the Inner Circle locker room. He was frustrated with Trent, but he was also a little relieved. He was starting to feel low. He never liked the feeling he had after the elevated energy from his bloodlust wore off. What he really wanted was to sleep and to fly back to Jersey. There was no need for violence now.
After all, The Violent Society was dead.
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May 31, 2016
He had a day or two before he planned on going to Japan and he wasn't going to spoil it.
There was a lot to do. He wanted to visit Stacy and break the news to her. She knew he was set for a Japan tour, of course, but he wanted to let her know he was leaving. He hadn't been to the country since late 2010, when he was training for his run in NLW. Now he had to hit up some of his old contacts and work out living arrangements for the next two months.
For now, he sat in the lobby of the Jersey City Drug Treatment Center and waited on the go-ahead to go through the door to meet up with his wife. He felt like she was in prison for a weakness. He continued to hate himself for putting her here, even though she told him repeatedly not to.
The voice was silent after The Hostile Takeover took out The Rogues, but now it was positively chatty. It was pestering him and letting him know that he should do something about this "Hostile Takeover". The fact that he wasn't anywhere near Jamester, Sebastian or Zodiac didn't seem to matter. He shoved the voice back into the the recesses of his mind as a nurse approached him.
He still didn't feel like his old self. He might describe it was depression if he felt he had anything to be depressed about. Maybe it was because he finally accomplished what he wanted after months of feuding with Stewart. Maybe he didn't have anything to look forward to for the moment. He definitely felt down, that's for sure. He hoped seeing Stacy would cheer him up a little bit.
"Mr. Lee? It's okay for you to come back now."
"Good. How has she been?"
He rose from the hardback plastic chair in the lobby and stepped through the door, which was heavier than it looked. It bumped against his shoulder and send a shockwave through his aching muscles. He instinctively adjusted his New Jersey Devils hat to cover up the stitched up cut on his forehead. Stacy didn't need to see that, even if there was nothing he could do about his bruised neck and swollen lip. It was a rough night at Power Hour, even if he got what he wanted.
"She's recovering nicely. Mark noted that she's more receptive to the treatment this time than she ever was in outpatient therapy."
The two strolled down the corridor and finally hit the visiting room, where Stacy sat waiting. She looked good, even in her pedestrian outfit. Her hair was getting longer now, far removed from her preferred pixie cut. He had a feeling she'd be visiting a hair salon the second he picked her up in August.
He was assuming she still wanted to be with him then. He was aware that time was not on his side and he had done little to quell his inner demons. The ultimatum stood and remained a dark cloud that hovered over these little visits.
She got up and he stepped forward to give her a gentle but firm hug, lowering his head to kiss the top of hers. He sat down on the other side and they immediately held hands across the table. Yes, it definitely felt like a prison.
"So I've got some bad news."
"Did something happen at the gym?"
He was relieved that her first option wasn't to ask if he hurt someone again. He would have to tell her about Stewart. Even if he ordered Sarin to invade his home, she wouldn't approve of JC's tactics to gain a small measure of vengeance.
"No. Nothing like that. Although I did make Michael an assistant manager while we're both away. I told him he could make any chances he wants as long as he asks me first."
"Oh no. He's been talking for months about bringing Zumba classes. I don't know if I'm ready to be a Zumba gym."
JC smiled. She was doing better. She was back to her old self. Rather than ask himself if it was because she was away from him, he decided to continue the conversation."
"He's a madman and he must be stopped. But...you'll have to do it when you get out. I won't be here."
"Oh yeah, Japan. Is that here already?"
"Time flies when you're having fun."
"I wouldn't call any of this fun, but it hasn't been as bad as I thought. I just miss us."
He gave her hand a soft squeeze. She had the ability to make even the darkest thoughts dissipate in his head.
"Don't worry. August will be here before you know it."
He decided not to think about what that would mean if he didn't live up to his end of their agreement.
"You'll be here to pick me up, right?"
"I wouldn't want to be the person who tries to stop me."
He meant it as a joke, but she frowned. She was thinking about the ultimatum too. He averted her gaze and looked outside.
"Do they let you go outside at all?"
"Yeah, Joe. This isn't a prison. We're all just here getting help. But I haven't really enjoyed the weather lately. Too cloudy. I like sun."
"At least it's not storming."
"Not yet, anyway."
"We're not really talking about the weather, are we?"
They sat in silence for a moment. They usually managed to avoid thinking about the subject but it was getting harder with her release only two months away. He didn't lie to her. She knew that he had a match with a bitter enemy recently. He just didn't tell her how it went. He hoped she didn't want to know.
"Have you done anything to try and curb these impulses of yours?"
"I'm...taking it slow."
"You should really speed things up, Joe. This isn't something to take lightly and you know it."
She wasn't going to budge in this and he knew it. He also knew that she was right. What he didn't know was how to stop himself. It almost felt like he let something else take over when he destroyed Stewart's knee. It was like he was possessed. Somewhere deep inside, he felt fear, although he wasn't consciously aware of it. What else might he have done if he didn't snap out of it?
"I know. I've got old contacts in Japan that I trained with. One of them was big into yoga and meditation. Maybe I just need some relaxation techniques."
"I think you might need to talk to someone.
"I don't think that's necessary. I can do this on my own."
She stared at him briefly, then blew her hair out of her eyes as she sighed.
"I hope you're right, Joe."
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Stacy and JC said their goodbyes, as visiting hours were over. The parallels with a prison stay were once again present in his mind. He found it interesting that addicts and convicts were both locked away from society. Stacy didn't deserve to be here. JC thought he belonged at a place like this more than she did.
He moved to the sign-in form to write down his exit time, when he noticed something peculiar. The pages from previous days were not removed and had to be folded back to add a new addition. He saw something peculiar on the first page, which included signatures from days ago.
Trent Steel
What the hell was Trent doing here? He knew about Stacy's situation, because JC told him. Did he just want to visit? He thought Trent may be looking for him, but he had his cell phone switched on so that didn't make any sense. He stared at the name momentarily, blinking with a confused look on his face.
Before he could think about what this meant any longer, he heard an unwelcome but familiar voice behind him.
"I should have known you would be here."
He turned around and found himself once again staring at his diminutive sister-in-law, Michelle.
"Oh, hello Michelle. Sorry to say this, but visiting hours are over."
Of course, he wasn't sorry and they both knew it. Things had been colder between them now that Stacy was in rehab once again. It didn't help that Michelle was watching what he did on the OWF Network to use as ammo in her talks with her sister.
"They'll let me see her for a while. I've been late a few times already."
"Then you're welcome to her. I was just leaving."
He turned back around and signed his exit time in the log book, already forgetting that he saw Trent's name in it. As he turned back around, he saw Michelle closer to him. He was a good foot taller than her but she showed no fear. She was like her sister in that regard. He wouldn't hurt her, of course, no matter how much he wanted to.
"We need to talk."
"I'd rather not have the same conversation we had the last time you were at the house. I'm bad. You're good. I should leave Stacy's life. I get it. You live in a black and white world. Share your binary life beliefs with your sister. I'm not in the mood."
He stepped around her and made his way to the exit. Once again he found someone shouting at him to keep him from leaving.
"I saw your last match."
His eyes closed and he felt that familiar tingle, a mix of dread and anger. It took everything in him to keep his hands from tightening into fists, because he knew she would see it and immediately tell Stacy in her daily report of "Why Divorcing Joseph Is Your Only Option".
"I just said goodbye to my wife for the next two months. I have a flight to catch to Saitama in 48 hours. Do we really have to do this now?"
"Unless you want me to tell Stacy that you tore the ligaments in a man's knee for fun, I think you should stick around. Or did you tell her already?"
He forced himself to turn around and look at her. He was filled with revulsion to see that she had almost a wicked grin on her face. She wasn't a bad person. Her psychological warfare wasn't for evil purposes. She was, however, extremely protective of her younger sister and would do anything to keep her from harm. JC could almost sympathize with that. He used to be the same way when he had a sibling.
His problem was that she genuinely believed he would hurt Stacy. She didn't seem to realize that he would cut off his own arm without a moment of hesitation before he ever willingly harmed the love of his life. That's what always put JC and Michelle at odds. She never trusted him and he didn't want to bother earning it.
Now it seemed she just wanted to gloat that she could destroy everything with a few words.
"I didn't think so. I wasn't planning on telling her until we had this talk. Actually, I wasn't planning on telling her at all. That's something she would need to see."
"Are you..."
He lowered his voice so that they wouldn't be removed for an argument.
"Are you fucking crazy? Seeing my OWF career is what caused this to happen in the first place!"
"So you finally get it."
"I get that she can't handle the things I do in my job. I get that she's asked me to tone it down, if not quit outright. I also get that she doesn't need to see something that upsetting right now! She's making a lot of progress here."
"That's exactly why she should see it. She should see what you're truly capable of so she knows who you really are."
He tried to think of a comeback, but couldn't. Instead, he gritted his teeth and pleaded his case.
"I'm trying. There are issues with this that you don't really understand. And no offense Michelle, but we're not close enough for me to break down my psychological issues with you."
She sighed and then began to look inside her purse for something.
"My sister tells me everything, Joe. I know about the ultimatum. I know you're having trouble. I don't know the extent of it, but I know it's a mental thing."
Michelle then pulled a card from the purse and looked at it for a moment.
"That's why I wanted to talk to you before I told her anything. Sorry for...everything else, but I think you'd be the first to admit that we like to get under each other's skin. I'm willing to put that aside to help Stacy."
She handed over the card, which read "Jonathan Fuller, MD" on the front. A line just beneath it revealed "psychiatric care".
"I don't think this is necessary."
"After what I saw you do to Shaun Stewart? Yes, it's necessary. In fact, it's my ultimatum. You go to him and you get the help you need or I load up the OWF Network on my smartphone and show Stacy that clip. I know my sister. She's stood by you for a lot but I think even that would be too much for her. You put a man in the hospital."
The chess match was over. Michelle got checkmate. He knew perfectly well that if he didn't agree right now to her demand, she'd go right inside and tell her sister what kind of depraved acts her husband did to his fellow co-workers.
"Fine. I'll go."
"Good. I hope you realize that even though we have problems, this isn't because of that. This is because I love Stacy. If you love her too, you'll tell Dr. Fuller everything so he can properly diagnose you. Find out what's going on and do exactly what he says. Maybe in a few months we'll all look back on this and laugh."
"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe you'll be laughing because you destroyed a marriage. Goodbye, Michelle."
He slipped the card in his pocket and left Michelle in the lobby. He had a lot to do before his trip to Japan.
So much to do. So much to think about.
So little time.
So little patience.
