Defeated

First of all, JC was alone.

The stark reality that he was completely alone, for the first time in a long time. He sat in a hotel room in Newark, reflecting over the fact that in one night he lost everything. Perhaps not everything, maybe that thought was too dramatic. But he had lost a lot. Two matches, his dwindling credibility...Lucy. 

But that last one was something he did not want to think about. Not now. Perhaps at a later time, when the injury wasn't as fresh. Maybe after it had scabbed over and the red irritation along the outline had faded. Maybe then, if he didn't feel the need to pick at it as he so often did with his emotional wounds.

Perhaps that's why those wounds become emotional scars. One turns it around in their mind so often, inspecting every little detail and not allowing it to heal, that it simply becomes a permanent fixture of their being.

That's why he had this hotel room after all. Started in New Jersey and now he was back.

"Home sweet home."

He thought tomorrow he might go to the old family home. He doubted the power was even on but his name was still on the lease. He could come and go as he pleased.

Being alone with old ghosts and painful memories was much better than being alone with whatever these new feelings were.

Guilt? Shame? Some combination of both?

He stared at the contact list in his phone. Her name stared at him. He wanted to call, but he knew he couldn't. It was too late. Things had already been set in motion and there was no turning back. He would just have to deal with the aftermath.

He thought maybe he was a little premature in accepting his role as the bad guy.

Before he even had the chance to consider a change of heart, he saw his brother's name on the phone. 

Which show did he watch? Did he see them both? Did he know?

Joe decided to answer.

"Hello?"

"Dude, what the hell?"

Obviously he saw both shows.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Why didn't you tell me you were back in Carnage? I flipped on the Network and boom, there you were."

Or maybe not.

"Anyway, sorry you lost, bro. Just a half-second though. You'll do better next time."

Bless Eric, he was blissfully unaware of what Joe just did on the other show. He figured this conversation would be a lot different if he had. Just last year he was close to writing him off entirely. And while he could explain himself, he didn't want to. He didn't want to think about it.

Some things you have to do, doesn't mean you have to like it.

"Yeah, well. I came back to see if I could keep up with the new breed, and it turns out I can't."

"Oh don't start that shit. It was one loss. You'll bounce back."

"Glad you think so. Did you watch UGWC?"

"Not yet. I was planning on it tomorrow."

"Well, call me back when you do. I don't really want to talk about it right now but...you'll want to then."

"That's...vague. Not even gonna give me a hint?"

"Spoilers."

They said their goodbyes and he decided to shut his phone off entirely. Just in case she called. Or texted. He didn't want to deal with it right now, maybe ever. He didn't even want to deal with his losses. He just wanted to sleep a hopefully dreamless sleep, and let the world deal with itself until he was ready to face his repercussions.

He realized that he hadn't taken his medication today, and knew he'd have to go get it tomorrow. 

At their condo.

He hoped like hell she wouldn't be there.

The mind turned away from that wound and toward another. His loss in Carnage. Yes, one loss. But when was the last time he won there? And he bragged quite a bit beforehand. Just to lose. 

That wasn't JC.

Or maybe it was.

Maybe this was the new JC. The one who needed to be on the side of the devil to succeed. Maybe everything his critics ever said was right. 

The silence was deafening. 

He almost missed the voice in his head.

He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to come, but it would be a while before it did.