Scene One
Tips of her fingers press against his back, smearing the lotion into the damaged skin. Her palm moved up and down his back, rubbing it across the right side of his back before removing it, allowing the medication to soak into the burned body. Weight on the hospital bed shifted, as grazing of her hair on his shoulder as she slipped off the edge with her feet on the floor.
The tube squeezed easily in his grip, forcing out another half in of cream he had been prescribed to use to keep the burn tissue moist while it still healed. It smoothed against his chest paying only half attention to what he was doing, the other half of his mind on Melissa pulling a piece of clothing, a shirt from his packed suitcase. She held it up in front of her, "Yeah, this'll do just fine for your return home," she said approvingly.
He sighed with a slight agitation at her fussing over him so much, "Mel, you don't have to treat me like a doll. I can dress myself just fine." She brushed off what he said with a wave of her hand, "Shush you, it's my job to fuss. Would you let me play mother for once already? Not too often we get to switch and I act like the older sibling."
His eyes rolled at his sister's non-stop insistence on babying him, reaching over to the table at his side with a plastic like sheet. It folding open in his hand, turning into a mask. The two blank eye holes stared back at him with the same emptiness he felt in deep within himself, the self-pity. He had been reduced to this, hiding his face in shame.
Her hand held the mask by the top and tore it from his hand, trying not to reach the volume of yelling but her frustration with him coming through, "How many times do I have to tell you? You don't need this shit." "Take a good look at me, Mel," he mumbled, "I'm a monster, deformed. What the fuck do I have to be proud of right now? I can't let anyone else see my face like this."
Her hand came across his cheek, gliding down her burned skin. Her lips met his for a brief and short kiss, before whispering, "Fuck people. You're my brother and I love you, but you have got to stop with this pity shit. It's going to end up killing you one of these days."
He coughed, his throat still too damaged from the heat and irritation of the smoke-inhalation to laugh, "Is that why you're staying with me at the house until I'm better? To make sure I don't off myself?" She draped the opened shirt over his shoulders, his arms too heavy to lift and fit into the sleeves, looking him in the eyes with a hint of a tear but holding it back, "I'm helping you because I love you too much to let you go at this by yourself. You'll never be alone, because unlike some people including that ungrateful bitch you married, I'm not leaving. Understand?"
He nodded his head, remaining silent but showing he agreed with her. She smiled before reaching around the his back and pulled to bring him off the bed. Like a child guided by a mother's hand, he complied, standing up. Melissa raised her brother's arm and slipped it in the sleeve. "Now let's get you home and away from this hospital food," she told him, "And I'm throwing away this mask, I like you just the way you are."
"Thanks, Mel. I mean that," he said mumbling again. She did not reply to him, merely finishing button the shirt for him, his arms hanging limply at his sides. She pulled him along by his arm, only taking the suitcase that sat at the foot of the bed after she had pointed it out to him.
Scene Two
Xavier stared into the mirror, eyes meeting with that of his own reflection. The scarring he had been loathe to look at gone now, only the memory of how it was all created remain. The prescription bottle tipped over into the palm of his hand, only two capsules falling out. "Fuck," the sound of the words barely passing his lips unintentionally spoken. With luck on his side, he would not have another migraine before he could get the bottle filled.
The pills popped into his mouth washing down with a current of tap water down his throat. The liquid and pills dropped down into his stomach, beginning the process of integration into his blood. His eyes seemed to be darker, more sunk into his skull then the had only weeks ago. The return to ESW and the prospect of extract his vengeance creating a darkening shadow and it had fallen onto him, darkening him to the core.
Revenge was a dirty business, no matter how good it felt to get some form of payback, it would always take its toll upon those whom used it to strike out. Von Doom, Shane, anyone that would stand by them, people who sat idly by when he burned like Fear, Cable, Chaos Kid, they were all going to burn in time. Standing with your hands in your pockets while he burned made you just as guilty as if you held the match yourself.
It would start this week, with Cable and Antwan Pluss, the laps dogs of the main factions dividing ESW. As much as things had changed in his absence, they have remained the same. It used to be The Empire against Alcohol Anonymous, now it was The Empire and The Alliance. The faces have changed for the most part, but the basics remain.
Antwan it seems had taken his old spot of being Victor's bitch boy, his gopher running here and there on sick little errands. Back then, he liked to think himself as Victor's enforcer, but hindsight is always twenty-twenty. And like him, Antwan was proud of his spot and worshipped the ground Von Doom walked on and blind to whatever was obvious. Was it his love for Riley or hatred for Victor that drove him towards turning on him, denying the power of the title in the group, he was not quite sure now. Turning on Victor did have it's consequences, however, being burnt was his price for freedom. The only question was whether or not Antwan was strong enough to make such a sacrifice himself.
Cable story, on the other hand, was something new, seeming to be ripped from the pages of a script for a British soap opera. He was the long lost brother of his former lover, Shane Sanders. Strange how she had never mentioned him considering how brooding and introspective she tended to be at times. He remembered him. A low card nothing when he was there. How desperate had this company become for a champion in his absence. It almost made him not want to aspire to reclaim his former glory considering Cable's unworthy hands had fallen upon such an honor. Almost. Jackson was a god among insects and would be dethroned providing a worthy opponent presented himself.
Who would be first know the punishment of their sins against him, who was the easiest target. Divide and conquer. Shane. Whether or not he would forgive her in time for her betrayal, she would not know until he chose to disclose it to her.
Melissa stirred in the bedroom, her half-naked form reflected itself in the mirror. He turned to her direction, stepping from the tiled floor of the bathroom to the carpeting of the hotel bedroom. She eyes laid upon him as if he were a piece of meat, biting her lip and holding her hands above her head crossed at her wrists. "Come back for more huh?." she smirked up at him, eyebrow cocked.
He picked up her pair of blue jeans from the floor and tossed them down next to her. "Get dressed," he told her, "We have to get there before early so no one sees us slip in. Besides, getting you undressed is easy enough now so don't give me that pouting crap."
She gave him a "have it your way" look as she shrugged and slipped the jeans over her legs and thighs. He gave her one last glance as she buttoned them before backing away from the bed and to attend to his own preparations for the night's event.