SNOW ANGEL
RAW IS WAR, MARCH 5TH, 2001
Angel slowly drifted out of a drug-induced slumber, feeling peaceful and relaxed. She twitched her eyes around, inhaled and decided she was in hospital, though why she didn’t know. Her memory returned a few seconds later, as did the pain. It was so intense and coming from all over, that she cried out. A nurse came running
"Drugs!" Angel screamed. "I need some drugs!"
Another nurse arrived and checked the chart as the first nurse ordered up an IV bag. She started the drip and Angel slowly drifted back to sleep.
The next time she woke up she just managed to restrain herself and was given some pills for the pain. If she felt this bad she didn’t even want to imagine what she looked like. She just wanted to lie there and cry…until Benoit showed up. Somehow, from deep inside, she pulled out her tough façade and formed her scowl.
"You look awful," Benoit told her without an ounce of sympathy.
"No kidding, genius. I got the crap beaten out of me."
Benoit was unaffected. "Get up. We have a plane to catch."
"Piss off. I’m staying right here."
"I checked you out. You can’t stay."
"You can’t do that. You’re not a doctor."
"Princess, I can do whatever I damn well please. Now, get up."
Angel glared at him. "I hate you."
Benoit smirked. "I wouldn’t have it any other way. I brought you some clothes. Put them on." He dumped a bag on her and turned his back.
"Can you leave?"
"No."
Angel sighed. "Fine." Despite the painkillers, it took her several minutes to dress. "Did you touch my underwear?"
"No. Terri got it. She packed your bag, too."
"Terri," Angel repeated bitterly, pulling a hooded sweatshirt over her head. It didn’t belong to her and had the Radicalz logo emblazoned on it, but it was warm. "Why the sweatshirt?"
"You want people to see you looking like that?" Benoit challenged, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pair of sunglasses. "Here. Put these on, too."
Angel took them from him. "Okay, I’m ready."
Benoit nodded. "I won’t hold your arm today. Don’t make me change my mind."
Angel took a deep breath and clambered slowly from the bed. She followed Benoit silently from the room, aching with every movement.
"Wait," she called out suddenly. "I need drugs."
Benoit spun and held up a bottle of tablets. Angel reached for them but Benoit pulled them away from her. "I’ll keep these. And once they’re done, there’s no more. Drugs are dangerous for wrestlers – painkillers, steroids, recreationals. They’ve destroyed careers, destroyed people. You have to know when to stop taking them."
Angel glared at him. "Thanks for the public service announcement."
Benoit didn’t crack a smile. "You’re welcome. Now, come on. We’ve already missed the first plane. Don’t make us miss the other one."
Angel frowned. "I have to get the plane with just you?"
"That’s what I said."
"Perfect," Angel sighed. "Just perfect."
* * * *
Benoit sat in silence, as if meditating. Angel had been watching him for some time and she was beginning to wonder if he was one of those people who could sleep with their eyes open. She resented the fact he wasn’t talking. Like Blackman, he never said much, but even Benoit’s company was better than nothing.
"Did they say what was wrong with me?" she asked finally.
Benoit raised his eyebrows and stared at her out of the corner of his eye.
"At the hospital," Angel continued. "Did they tell you about my injuries?"
Benoit nodded slowly. "Three cracked ribs and a total of twenty-four stitches."
"That’s it?"
"Bumps, bruises, minor lacerations. You’re lucky."
"Maybe you think so," Angel muttered under her breath. She looked at him again. "Why haven’t you asked me who attacked me?"
"Because I already know," Benoit replied simply.
"You do?"
"I’m not stupid."
Angel frowned at him. That remained to be seen. "What do you intend doing about it?"
"I’ll do what I have to do."
Angel’s frown became a glare. "You promised me."
"I’ll do what I have to do," Benoit replied, this time more forcefully.
Angel sighed and sat back in her chair. "Can I have my pills now?"
"No."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because it hasn’t been four hours yet," Benoit explained.
"Really? I guess being around you just made it seem like it. My mistake."
Benoit turned his head slightly and smirked at her as she reached forward and picked up the in-flight magazine. Maybe she’d been wrong before. Anything had to be better than talking to Benoit.
* * * *
Angel and Benoit walked through the backstage hallways of the MCI Center. They were so late they hadn’t even had time to check into the hotel. All of their luggage other than Benoit’s wrestling gear was in the rental car. He didn’t even know whether or not he had a match.
Still wearing the sweatshirt and sunglasses, Angel went unnoticed by most people, so it came as a surprise when Al Snow raced right over to her. Because of his campaigning, she’s hardly seen him since she’d started being Benoit’s valet and she hadn’t been able to explain it to him. She didn’t know what he thought about the whole situation.
"Angel! Angel! I’ve got a big night and Head is causing me some worries. Would you be able to…"
"Look after Head?" Angel guessed.
Al broke into his smile. "Could you?"
"Sure."
Al handed it to her. "Thanks. I’ll see you after to get Head from you again."
"Okay, Al. Bye."
Al raced down the hallway and Benoit turned and stared at Angel.
"What do you think you’re doing?" he asked disdainfully.
Angel shrugged, unaffected. "You’re not the only one I have a deal with."
Benoit accepted that and continued walking.
"Angel? Is that you?"
Angel peered through her sunglasses as Matt and Jeff and noticed them eyeing the Radicalz sweatshirt warily.
"Yes, it’s her," Benoit answered impatiently. "She’s a Radical now. It’s a good look for her."
Matt started to argue but Jeff stopped him. "She has to do it. It’s part of the deal."
Matt nodded slowly and looked back at Benoit. "We want her to be our valet tonight. We have a title match."
"You should ask her," Benoit advised.
"Angel?" Jeff asked.
"Yeah, guys, of course I’ll do it. Anything to get me away from this jerk for a while."
Jeff broke into a smile. There was the Angel he’d fallen for. "Great. We’ll see you, then."
"Bye." Angel sighed, knowing how uncomfortable that had been for her friends. If only Benoit wasn’t constantly by her side, her life would be a whole lot easier.
* * * *
"Hey, look here, guys. It’s Chris and his little ‘cita."
Angel stared at Eddie warily as he continued. "We heard what happened to you, ‘cita. We were so sad to hear it. Our Radicalz sister, attacked for no reason. Can you imagine how we were feeling?"
"My heart bleeds for you," Angel muttered, rolling her eyes.
"I don’t know who did it," Eddie told her. "But if I find out, let me tell you, they’ll be wishing they never messed with the Radicalz."
Angel still stared at him. "I may have hit my head, but I do remember what happened."
"You do? ‘Cita, who was it? I’ll go beat them right this minute."
Angel shook her head and didn’t reply. Instead, she looked expectantly over at Benoit.
"Eddie, do you have something to say to her?"
Eddie frowned. "Maybe you can give me a little hint, huh, essa?"
Benoit blinked a few times. "I think you owe her and apology."
Eddie was taken aback. "Why, essa? The mamacita, she’s our sister. We love her, man. She’s a Radical."
"Eddie," Benoit started.
"Okay," Eddie relented. "’Cita, I’m sorry you hurt yourself."
"See?" Benoit asked. "Eddie’s sorry."
"That wasn’t an apology," Angel scowled. "That wasn’t what you promised me."
Benoit glared at her. "My promise was to make sure he was sorry. He’s sorry. He said so."
"He’s not sorry," Angel snapped, walking into the corner of the room. "He doesn’t even care."
"Not care? Of course I care, ‘cita. Maybe we could do something nice for her, huh, guys? To show we care. I know. Let’s give her a little makeover. Terri, you got your makeup?"
"Of course I do."
"That’s great. ‘Cita, how you want us to make you, huh?"
"Screw you," Angel spat, hugging Head to her chest as if it was a security blanket.
"What you got there, ‘cita?" Eddie asked, unfazed. "Look guys, it’s Al Snow’s Head."
"Get away from me," Angel warned as Eddie approached her.
"That’s okay, ‘cita. We don’t wanna take your little doll away. We just gonna give you a little makeover ‘cause that’s what friends do and we’re all friends now, right?" He broke into an evil smile. "Hey guys, I know what we can do her makeup. Grab her!"
Malenko and Saturn held a struggling Angel as Eddie called Terri over. "Terri, can you get my black shirt from my bag? I think the little mamacita would like to wear it."
"Let me go!" Angel shrieked. "Let me go!"
"Shut up!" Saturn snapped.
"Here Eddie," Terri said, handing him the shirt.
"Okay, now do her makeup all nice, so you can’t see she’s hurt, okay?"
Terri nodded. "Honey, if you don’t stop moving it’ll go all over your face. Just relax. I’m not going to hurt you."
Angel glared at her but decided to strop struggling. There wasn’t much point keeping it up – they weren’t going to let her go.
"You have beautiful eyes," Terri told her, working carefully. "And don’t worry about your swollen lips. They just look like you’ve had collagen injections and that can’t be a bad thing, can it?"
A little later, she was done.
"There," Terri said with a smile. "You can’t even see the bruises."
"Perfect, babe," Saturn agreed.
"Take the sweatshirt off," Eddie ordered.
"No!" Angel yelped, struggling again, but she couldn’t really stop them as they removed her sweatshirt and replaced it with Eddie’s black T-shirt.
"You guys like it, huh?" Eddie asked.
On the T-shirt, in correction fluid, Eddie had written the slogan ‘Vote For Me, Get Head Free.’
"There’s still something missing," Eddie mused. "Does anyone have a magic marker?"
"I have a permanent marker," Terri offered, pulling it from her makeup case and handing it to him.
"Even better," Eddie grinned. "’Cita, you’re gonna wanna hold still for this part."
Angel was till struggling against Saturn and Malenko. "Why aren’t you helping me?" she shrieked, glaring at the motionless Benoit.
He just stared back at her. "If you move, they’ll break your neck."
Angel stopped still. She was wasting her energy. They wouldn’t let her go so she might as well let them finish.
"There," Eddie smiled, admiring his work. He took a mirror from Terri’s makeup case and held it up so everyone else could see the words on Angel’s forehead.
"Eddie, you dolt," Malenko mumbled. "The head says ‘Help Me’ not ‘Kill Me’."
"It does?" Eddie shrugged. "Oh well, I never was so smart at spelling. You like your makeover, ‘cita? You’re lookin’ pretty good if I do say so myself. You can let her go now so she can take a good look."
Angel finally shrugged off Saturn and Malenko. She clutched Head tightly, clenching her jaw and her fists. She resolved herself not to cry and was just succeeding. This was how she’d expected things to be all along, it had just taken a while to happen. Benoit had tricked her. He was right; all he’d promised was that Eddie would be sorry. Eddie had said he was sorry so that was that. There was nothing she could do about it, except hope with all her heart that the worst was over, even if she didn’t believe it was. Next time they could kill her. That thought didn’t distress her as much as she’d expected. With the pain she was feeling, death would be quite a release.
As if hearing her thoughts, Benoit stepped over to her with a bottle of water in one hand. "It’s time to take your pills if you need them."
Angel simply nodded and took them from him. She swallowed them quickly, then eyed Benoit accusingly.
"Why didn’t you stop them? Why didn’t you make them sorry?"
Benoit stared back, unapologetically. "I said I’d do what I had to do," he replied simply.
"You bastard."
"Just shut up," Benoit scowled. "They’ve accepted you. You’re a Radical now."
"Never," Angel spat.
"It’s an honor. Be grateful." With that, he turned and rejoined his friends.
* * * *
"Come on, little girl. We’re going to support Eddie."
Angel scowled and got to her feet.
Earlier, a messenger arrived to tell them that Vince had given the Radicalz an Intercontinental Title shot. It was up to them to decide who got it. After some infighting, Benoit managed to convince everyone that Eddie deserved it the most.
"You have proven to all of us this last week where your alliances lie," he explained.
Eddie thanked him and started to prepare.
Angel followed Benoit from the room and they made their entrance. They kept walking around the ring and Benoit stopped for a moment in front of a seated security guard.
"Give me that chair."
The guy did as he was told and Benoit took the chair with him to the announce desk, where he opened it.
"Sit here," he ordered Angel as he took his own seat next to Paul Heyman, the new announcer. Angel sat, gripping Head tightly.
Benoit put on his headset and wrung his hands enigmatically, giving Heyman and JR a dark look.
Angel formed a glare of her own as Chris Jericho entered. She still blamed him for her situation, especially for her current mess – injured badly and dressed to mock her coach, a man she adored. Jericho was followed by Guerrero and Angel could now not keep the glare off her face. Jericho versus Guerrero. She was glad Benoit just expected her to sit because she really didn’t know who she’d cheer for.
As the fight began, JR and Heyman asked Benoit question after question and he refused to answer, keeping both intense blue eyes on the action. Finally, JR told him that his microphone was on and he could say whatever he wanted, to which he replied expressionlessly, "I know" and fell silent again.
The match continued and Benoit maintained his silence and rubbed his hands together slowly, never taking his eyes away from Jericho – a man he abhorred, a man he’d been feuding with since he’d first appeared in the WWF.
In the ring, Jericho lifted Guerrero for a body drop, causing him to fly into the ref and knock him down. Eddie later performed a failed frogsplash and both men were down. Benoit chose that moment to remove his headset and climb the ropes to the top turnbuckle.
"He’s going for Jericho!" Heyman cried as Benoit sailed though the air in the flying headbutt. But he didn’t go for Jericho, landing instead on his fallen ‘teammate’. Just as quickly as he’d entered, Benoit rolled from the ring.
"Come on," he ordered Angel, grabbing her roughly and pulling her to her feet. They headed for the ramp as Jericho made the cover and the revived referee made the three count.
"Okay, stop."
Benoit turned back to the ring and gave everyone his trademark smirk, as Angel stood dumbfounded by his side. Jericho was equally stunned, giving Benoit a confused look as he picked up his belt. Still smirking, Benoit backed up the ramp, until he was stopped by the other Radicalz. Angel was no coward, but her injuries had her in great pan again, so she stood close to Benoit and let him sort it out.
Malenko shoved him. "What the hell was that? You’re wrecking his title shot? You’re headbutting your friend?"
Benoit pointed at Eddie and continued to back up the ramp. "I told him not to touch her, dammit. I told him! You didn’t think I’d let you get away with it, did you? Enjoy your headache, essa." With that, he again broke into his smirk and pulled Angel alone as the other Radicalz got into the ring to check on Eddie.
In the hallway, they ran into Al Snow. He glared at Angel.
"You think that’s funny? It’s not funny. It’s not funny at all. So few people here take me seriously and I really thought you were different. I mean, Head loves you. I thought you loved Head."
"I do!" Angel protested.
"Little girl, we don’t have time." Benoit reached and snatched Head away, then tossed it towards Al. "Head’s up."
"Hey!" Al cried, clutching Head. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Did he poke you in the eye?"
Benoit just chuckled and led Angel away.
* * * *
"Chris, open the damn door!"
"I mean it, essa, you let me in so I can beat the crap outta you."
"Come on, Chris. Let us in!"
"Chris, please! My makeup’s in there!"
Benoit laughed quietly but didn’t reply.
"Open the door! It’s our room too!"
"You son of a bitch! Open it!"
Angel looked over at Benoit. "How long are we staying in here?"
"As long as it takes."
Angel nodded as the yelling from outside continued. "They’re gonna be pissed at you."
"I know."
"You don’t care?"
Benoit raised his eyebrows. "Just shut up and see if they start begging."
"Can I watch the TV?"
Benoit shrugged so she took it as a yes.
* * * *
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Angel cried. Lita had just lost her women’s title match, due in large part to a mistake by Jeff.
"You don’t look like cousins," Benoit said quietly.
Angel shrugged. "Cousins don’t have to look alike."
Benoit nodded. "Only if they’re Hollys."
Angel frowned at him. "Why is it that I can sometimes talk to you like a normal person, but other times you’re a total jackass?"
Benoit raised his eyebrows. "Little girl, I could ask you the same question."
Angel blinked. He had her there. "Okay, so why don’t you ever call me by name? My name’s Angel, you know."
"You never call me by my first name," Benoit shrugged.
"That’s true, but Benoit’s still your name. You don’t even call me Torres."
"You’d rather I call you bitch, slut or whore like I do with Terri?"
Angel smiled meekly. "Point taken."
They were silent and Angel realized the noise from outside had stopped.
"Can I go now?" she asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"They’re probably still there, thinking they can fool us into believing they’ve gone so they can ambush us."
"When can I go?"
Benoit shrugged. "I don’t know."
"I have a match to valet," Angel warned.
"You’ll probably miss it."
"What? It’s Matt and Jeff. They’re my friends."
Benoit glowered at her. "I lost all my friends tonight and you’re upset about missing one stupid match they’re not going to win anyway?"
Angel blinked and found she didn’t have an answer so she turned back to the TV.
"You’re not worth it," Benoit sighed.
"Excuse me?" Angel demanded, spinning to face him.
"I lost everything tonight," Benoit murmured. "My team, my friends, my brothers, everything. All because of you. I just want you to know you’re not worth it."
Angel held his gaze. "Then why do it?"
"I gave you my word," Benoit replied simply. "I did what I had to do."
Angel stared at him. "So why didn’t you stop them before? Al Snow might never speak to me again. Why did you let them do that?"
Benoit shrugged. "Because they weren’t hurting you." He broke into his smirk. "And because I liked watching you squirm."
Angel glared at him. "I really don’t like you."
"Princess, I don’t like you either."
Angel’s eyes widened. "So, why am I here? Why did you want me?"
Benoit smirked. "You’ll find out eventually."
Angel scowled. "Asshole."
Benoit started chuckling to himself. "Your match is on."
Angel turned to the TV. He was right. There were Matt and Jeff.
* * * *
"Stay here. I’ll check us both in."
Angel shrugged and stepped back. It was so late she was surprised someone was at the reception desk at all.
Benoit walked straight up to the desk and gave the receptionist his most threatening of looks. "I need a room."
The receptionist looked up from his computer. "Do you have a reservation?"
"No."
"Then, at this hour of night, I can’t help you."
Angel stepped up next to Benoit, a frown on her face. "I’m pretty sure I have a booking."
Benoit turned to her. "I told you to wait back there."
"But I have my own room. It’s booked…"
"No, it’s not. This is a different hotel."
"What?" Angel cried.
"We can’t stay there. You’re not safe."
"I’m not safe? I’m not safe? You listen to me, mister…"
Benoit shut her out, turning back to the receptionist. "We need a suite. Two bedrooms."
The receptionist wavered under his gaze. "I’m sorry. If you come back tomorrow…"
"Maybe you didn’t hear me," Benoit replied coolly. "I want a room. Now."
"I’ll see what I can do," the receptionist murmured, typing on the keyboard.
"What the hell do you mean I’m not safe?" Angel demanded.
Benoit stared at her. "You want a repeat of yesterday?"
"No, but…"
"Then shut up and let me handle it."
Angel took a deep breath. She was tired and sore and just wanted some sleep.
"It looks like we can help you," the receptionist said nervously. "Two bedroom suite?"
Benoit nodded slowly and handed him his credit card.
The receptionist ran it through the computer and collected the key. "I hope you enjoy your stay. If there’s anything you need at all, anything, just call the desk and we’ll put someone on it."
Benoit nodded and took the key, turning roughly to Angel. She frowned at him, then gave the receptionist an apologetic smile.
"He meant to say thank you. He’s incredibly rude."
The receptionist smiled gratefully as Benoit grabbed her arm. "Cut your flirting. It’s been a long day. Let’s get some sleep."
Angel stared at him and nodded. Sleep. Finally, they agreed on something.
