***

Title: Here With Me
Author: Lizzie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: I�d probably go with NC-17. Can you believe it?!
Content: Uh, violence, angst, blood, strong language, and m/m sex with dubious consent. Whoever said I�m not a happy person?
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and unless I wake up one morning having mysteriously become Vince McMahon, I doubt they ever will be. Damn, that's a scary thought.
Distribution: Not that you're likely to want it, but if you do, just tell me where.
Summary: Set after the ECW announcement on Raw, 7-8-01; sort of about what could�ve happened later. Stevie/Raven. Raven�s POV. Boy do my summaries ever suck.
Notes: Inspired by the songs �Foolish Games� by Jewel, �Here With Me� by Dido and �I�m Stupid� by Prime STH. For all the Raven-addicts out there!

***
Here With Me
***

This isn�t going to end well.

How fucking stupid must I have been to ever think it could? I just don�t understand how I could ever have believed this could work. We�re two very, very different people. I used to think we were the same but we never were. I hate that we weren�t and I hate that I was wrong. I was always wrong. About everything.

Because I really did believe that it could work out between us. Even after you left, even when I was beating you, even when I made you cry, I believed it could be okay. I just thought I could say I was sorry and that would make it okay again. I guess that shows just what kind of a fucking fool I really am. And it�s a pity because I was always so happy when I thought about spending the rest of my life with you.

Okay so I never acted like I was happy, and because I never acted that I way I guess you never knew how I felt. I can�t say I ever really went out of my way to let you know. Hell, I never even hinted at it, let alone told you. Not once. You�d think that sometime in three fucking years I would�ve got around to saying something, but I never did. And it wasn�t even like I would�ve had to say I loved you. That�s the sad part. All it would�ve taken was a smile or a kiss once in a while, a touch that wasn�t a move to hit you or humiliate you or fuck you. But I didn�t show you anything. Well, anything that wasn�t hate or disgust.

I just wish you could�ve seen past that, because you see I didn�t really feel it. But I guess�s it�s always kinda hard to see past the immediate facts in front of you, especially when someone�s beating you bloody, fucking you �til you can�t stand and forcing you to suck him off in public. The twisted thing is that I never did any of it to hurt you. I just needed a way to show you how I felt about you without making myself vulnerable. Twisted, I know.

And I know you�re never going to understand that. I mean, how does beating someone until their lips splits open, their nose breaks and they�ll be bruised for a fucking month show them that you care? No one�s ever going to understand. I don�t think it�s the kind of thing you can put into words and rationalise � you either get it or you don�t. And I don�t think you ever did. You just thought I did it because I hated you.

But I don�t hate you. I never did and I never could. Because I love you. I just have a funny way of showing it is all. I couldn�t say the words and I couldn�t hold you or kiss you or smile at you or look at you like I loved you. I couldn�t show you how I felt because that would�ve made me vulnerable and I just knew that the moment I showed you I had a heart you�d have ripped it out of my just and stolen it away.

I can�t explain why I felt that why, why I feel that way now. There�s nothing in my past that I can blame it one, no one else to blame but me. It�s all me. I�m just more insecure than I know how to deal with. Hell, why the fuck do you think I get through so many guys so fucking quickly? It�s over so quick so I don�t give them a chance to leave me. Because it may not seem like it to look at me, but I�m scared to death they�re going to find something wrong and reject me. When it comes down to it, I�m scared to death of being alone. Strange for a loner, huh?

And if someone I didn�t even like leaving me would hurt that much, what do you think losing you would�ve done to me? Well, you did leave me so now you can see for yourself. Stevie, I�m nothing without you.

***

I didn�t feel guilty when you left me. I didn�t feel guilty for just about two months afterwards, either, but that was probably because half that time I was too drunk or too high to feel anything, let alone guilt. I blamed you. I blamed your job and I blamed mine. I blamed the guy you left me for. I blamed anyone and everyone but myself, even if deep down I always knew it was my fault. It had to be. Look at what I did to you and tell me it wasn�t all my fault, every last little bit of it.

You see, if I hadn�t chased you you never would�ve come to me and none of this would ever have happened in the first place. Back then you were so scared to admit that you might actually be into guys that even talking to me outside of work made you blush and clam up so bad you had to fight to urge to run. And I knew how you felt. It was pretty darn obviously to pretty much everyone how you felt about me, and I used that to my advantage. I had them all believing we were lovers long before we actually were. And once you saw that no one cared if you were gay or straight or bi or whatever, and that no one cared if you were with me, you gave in and in I swooped.

There was only one problem. I was supposed to be using you for whatever I wanted then discarding you like I had all the others. I didn�t count on falling for you.

And for the longest time I tried to deny it. I didn�t want to believe I could fall for someone like you, so innocent and so young. In the beginning I think that�s why I hit you. I was trying to prove I didn�t care about you by smacking you around. But back then I�d just leave the occasional bruise and it really wasn�t anything big. And you never seemed to mind. I don�t really know but I think maybe you thought it was some kind of game because back then I was still pretty gentle, like maybe I cared.

But the more the truth sank in, the more I hurt you. I was annoyed as hell that I was in love with you and I held you responsible for it, so it was only natural that you be punished. I hurt a little more, a little more often. And you didn�t say a thing about it because between times I was still the same old Raven you knew and loved.

Oh, and you did love me. Maybe you still do, I don�t know. But back then I know you did. I could see it in your eyes and I felt it when I was inside of you. You loved me. That�s the only reason you stayed. You loved me too much to go, because you must have thought you�d done something wrong to make me like that or maybe you thought you deserved it and if you were good to me maybe I�d change back.

Only I never did. I just kept on doing the exact same things no matter what you did for me. Until one day I finally snapped.

It could have gone either of two ways. One, I could�ve broken down and sobbed and told you I loved you and begged you for forgiveness and never done it again and in theory lived happily ever after. Or I could�ve decided to show you how I felt the only way I knew without you hurting me � by letting go and giving you every inch of passion I had inside of me. You know which one I chose.

That night I waited for you in your hotel room and when you came in I gave you the worst beating of your entire life.

***

I pulled out of you and wiped the blood off of myself with the bed sheet. I reached out to touch you but you shrank back from my hand, curling up in the bed, pulling the bloody sheets up around you as you sobbed quietly into the pillow. You looked so pretty, lying there, the blood drying on your face, one eye already swelling shut, your bottom lip purple in a swollen pout. You�d pulled the sheets up around yourself but I knew if I were to pull them back I would�ve seen your pale body bruised from head to foot in shades of purple and red, your blood and my semen seeping out of you and staining the white sheets red. You really were beautiful. I could almost have wept.

As I knelt by the bedside and looked at you as you cried, I knew I�d done the right thing. Because this was the only way to show you how I felt. I�d given you everything. I�d hit you until my knuckles were bloody and bruised. Then I�d kicked you until my feet were sore and bruised too. And then, for the first time since we�d got together maybe three months before, I made love to you. I mean *really* made love to you. I gave it my all. I know I hurt you but that was the only way you�d see what you meant to me.

I looked at the blood drying on my knuckles and realised I didn�t know if it was yours or mine, and that made me feel better somehow. So when I went into the bathroom I didn�t wash it off straight away, I just ran the water into the tub and tried to hear your sobbing over the running water. The blood only came off while I was washing you, sitting there in the tub with you in the hot, soothing water, making sure you were okay.

I sat behind you, leaned back against the end of the tub and pulled you back against me, your head resting on my shoulder. I played with the ends of your hair, damp and warm from the water, twisting it around my fingers. You gingerly took my hand, turning ever so slightly against me so I felt the muscles under your smooth, bruised skin moving against my chest, and looked up into my eyes to see if it was okay to take my hand like that. It was. I kissed your forehead and you smiled but it looked more like a grimace with your pouting, swollen lip. I held you and you stopped crying. I pressed my lips to your forehead, I felt us breathing together and I smiled.

This was my only way of showing you how I felt. I thought then that maybe you understood. But that really didn�t matter. What I cared about was that night I thought I knew you�d never leave me.

***

I never understood how you could be so happy. Most of the time it confused the hell out of me. I mean, on some level I always thought you understood why I did what I did to you, but a part of me was always asking how you could be so happy when the man you loved was beating you half to death two or three times each and every week. You see, I always knew it was wrong and I�m not going to deny that. I�m not going to pretend like I thought you liked it because I know you didn�t. You cried every time. So how could you ever have been happy?

To be honest I�ve never really managed to figure out why you felt that way. Sometimes I thought it was a front so no one would suspect what was going on between us, but then you�d act the exact same way with me when we were alone as you did with everyone else � you�d be cheerful and upbeat and sometimes I�d just have to slap you to bring you down. You always looked so surprised. In the end you shouldn�t have been but you always were, even though you knew how I was better than anyone. You�d just recoil and hold your hand to your cheek and look at me like you couldn�t believe what I�d just done. Mostly I�d just frown at you and give you a look like �what did you expect?�

But sometimes, just sometimes, I�d be just as surprised as you. Because I didn�t know why I did it. Because I didn�t want to hurt you. I never wanted to hurt you. And I never wanted to stop you from being happy. It�s just that that�s the way it always turned out.

You�d think you would�ve learned that looking happy resulted in me tearing you down, but you never did because when I wasn�t breaking you, you were the happiest damn person I ever knew. I was glad for that in some ways and not in others � it meant that what I did wasn�t changing who you were, but it also meant that I got to see that stunned little look when I slapped the smile from your face, and I�d know that I�d just made you unhappy. It satisfied me, yes, but only because I was showing you how much I loved you. But every time I saw that smile drop from your face it felt like I was being crucified. The problem was that I couldn�t stop.

And there�s a simple reason why. I knew you shouldn�t have been happy with me. I knew what I was doing was wrong. I wanted you to be with someone who could give you the kind of love you needed, the kind of love you gave me. And every time I backhanded you and brought you down, I did it so you�d see how fucked up I was and how fucked up we were. As much as I never wanted you to leave, I guess I knew you had to. I just knew I couldn�t leave you � it had to be the other way around. Every time I hit you and you didn�t leave, it fucked me up just that little bit more, made me believe that extra little bit that you were never going to leave.

But you did leave, Stevie. One night I walked into the room and you just looked at me and said �I think it�s time for me to leave�. And I knew you were right. I looked into your beautiful bruised face and knew you had to go. I tried to tell you I was sorry but the words wouldn�t come. I tried to tell you I loved you and I needed you and you couldn�t leave but the words caught in my throat. I couldn�t tell you. I knew you had to go. So I just hung my head as Lodi took your bag and you left the room together. I was so hurt inside, so fucked up and close to tears, that I couldn�t even try to stop you from leaving.

***

The night you left me was eleven months ago now. It was easy for two � I sort of denied anything had happened by drowning myself in alcohol and telling myself it would all be okay if I just told you I was sorry. But I didn�t tell you anything. You were gone and I was in drunken denial. Maybe if I had told you I was sorry then it would�ve been okay. But I didn�t. And by the time I was sober enough to face you it was too late. Everything was already over.

So for nine months I�ve been wallowing in guilt. I feel guilty for drinking, I feel guilty for not performing the way I should, I feel guilty for hurting you, I feel guilty for letting you go. I�ve felt so guilty that I�ve thought it might smother me and I�d die of it. But I never have.

And then something happened. Something that got me more excited than I had been in all the time since you left me. The reformation of ECW. I couldn�t believe it. All this time in the WWF and then suddenly this amazing angle landed on us. I was over the fucking moon. I�d be back with all the guys. I thought maybe I might even get the chance to work with you again, before I was told you wouldn�t be with us. And suddenly the buzz went right out of it. You see, I used to love this job. But without you it�s just never going to be the same.

Still, the ECW/WCW invasion thing started. I played happy, like sometimes I�m good at doing. I�m still an actor in a way, after all. And in a way I was happy, I guess. This might open up chances for me, new angles. But I know I would�ve felt better if you�d been there with me. You weren�t, though. It was just Tazz, Rhyno and the others. I�d just been distanced from you even further. And I honestly felt like I was losing you all over again.

But then, after the show, you turned up. You weren�t even supposed to be there but as we stepped out of the arena there you were. And you pulled me aside, giving a nod to the guys. You were wearing a pair of denim cutoffs and for a second I almost thought I�d look up and find you wearing your old BWO shirt too. It was a plain grey shirt but I smiled anyway.

Then I opened my mouth to ask why you were there but I couldn�t speak because then you were kissing me. You drew back leaving me breathless but that was probably more through shock, and I tried to ask what was going on and I know I must�ve looked confused as hell, but you just smiled and shook your head. Then you took my by the wrist, your fingers clamping down around the bone feeling so hot I finally knew this was real, and you led me to your car. I didn�t care what was happening or where we were going. All that mattered was that I was with you.

***

I don�t know where you are now. I just woke up this morning and you weren�t here. I don�t know where you are and I don�t know whether to be scared or relieved that you�re gone.

I don�t know why we did what we did last night, either. I wasn�t sure I wanted to but then I needed to and I needed you and I went through with it anyway even though I wasn�t sure that it was right or even if it was what I wanted. But I dig want it. I wanted it so much. I think I�d wanted it forever, if that makes any sense. At least I think I had.

But why the fuck am I still here? None of that answers the question, because I know I shouldn�t be. Why can�t I just get up and leave? I just can�t. There�s something holding me here in this bed but I don�t know what it is. I want to go but I don�t. I want to get up and get dressed and get the fuck out of here before I can realise what a mistake I�ve made. But I�m not going to. I�m going to lie here wondering if you�re going to come back before I can�t bear to be alone here anymore and I just have to leave.

But you see, I don�t want to leave. I�m scared that the moment I leave the hotel or the room or the fucking bed I�m going to forget when happened here and I don�t know if that�s a good or a bad thing. I want it to be good so badly, but I just know I�ll end up hating myself if I forget a single second of what happened here and I already hate myself enough without bringing this down on top of it. So I think I�ll stay.

***

You brought me to your room. You let us in with the key card then closed the door behind you, slipping the card into your pocket with a look on your face that made me frown. And suddenly I wasn�t sure why I�d gone with you. I�d never seen that look on you before, but it looked familiar and I knew I didn�t like it. I think that was the first time you ever made me feel anything even remotely like fear.

When you crossed the room and you slipped your arm around my waist I couldn�t stop myself from shivering. You just smiled coldly and pulled me to you, taking a handful of my braids and yanking my head back. My breath caught in my throat and you chuckled low in yours � it sounded alien on you, low and hollow. And you kissed me. Roughly. Hard enough to bruise as you bit my throat then moved up to my lips to crush them back against my teeth with the force. You were so decisive, commanding. I�d never seen you that way before. But it was so familiar�

And then I realised. It should be familiar. You were being me.

I swear you must�ve almost yanked out my hair as you broke off the kiss and threw me hard against the wall. My shoulder hit and it almost felt out of joint as I fell to my knees � you just stood there and leered down at me for a second as I tried not to growl in pain, and then nodded. You were being me; I knew you wanted me to stand and I didn�t want to argue. For one thing I wasn�t exactly in a state to stop you, and another, I didn�t want to.

That thought almost hurt. I didn�t want to stop you? I knew what you were going to do to me, and I knew it wasn�t going to be pretty. But I also knew it was something I�d done to you more times than I could count, so didn�t I deserve it? I knew I did. And no matter how much I just wanted to bolt for the door or scream �til my lungs burst, I just got to my feet and stood there in front of you.

You walked over to me and nodded again, your gaze flickering down to my shirt for a second. I pulled it off over my head and tossed it onto a chair, then tugged off my boots and shorts and the rest of my clothes followed until I was standing there naked in front of you. I almost couldn�t believe I was doing this. What the hell was I thinking? I didn�t want this. Except I did.

I felt cold all over, that sort of tingling cold you get when you�re not sure whether you�re excited or scared. The thing was that I knew I was scared, but it almost didn�t feel like it. It was more like I was tingling in anticipation, because I knew what had to happen and I was petrified of what you were going to do to me. I deserved it, I knew, but it�s one thing to give and quite another to receive.

Then suddenly I wasn�t cold anymore. You�d lashed out and struck me across the face with the back of your hand, and my cheek was stinging, probably glowing redder and redder. I felt my hand fly up to it on instinct and I looked up at you. You were wearing that same expression I always had, that damned �what did you expect?� face. And I was wearing yours.

But I didn�t really give up until you hit me again. Your fist connected with my jaw and I felt your knuckles against the bone, bruising me. I only barely managed to stay on my feet. The next punch knocked me down to my knees. The next split my lip and brought tears to my eyes. I couldn�t believe how painful it was. And I knew what I was feeling when you started beating on me in earnest. I was feeling exactly how you�d felt all those times. I was feeling every shred of pain you�d ever felt.

I think you beat on me �til I passed out. I remember waking up a couple of times and knowing that I was bleeding � I could taste the blood in my mouth and feel it trickling down my forehead. And when I looked down there were prints of it all over my chest from where you�d beaten your knuckles bloody and just kept on hitting me. It was so hard to breathe that I just wanted to stop. I just didn�t want to have to feel this anymore.

I think I remember pleading with you. And I think I remember a look on your face that made my blood run cold. You grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the wall. I blacked out again.

***

I woke up in agony. Every inch of my body ached. But then there was something else. You had me lying on my stomach, my hands pinned under my chest, and then I had to bite down on my lip to keep from scream out loud when I felt your fingers push inside of me. I could feel you ripping me apart, making me bleed, and I could hear your breath, feel it on my bloody back.

You forced your way inside me and this time I dragged my hand up to bite down on instead of my lip. It hurt like hell but as you thrust inside of me, I didn�t care. All I could feel was you. I didn�t care that it hurt. I didn�t care that I didn�t want this, I didn�t care that you�d forced yourself on me or that this was probably all about revenge for you. Because I felt loved.

I knew this couldn�t have been how it felt for you all those times, feeling me moving inside of you, pressing down on your prostate, clawing at your back, your hair� You felt like I hated you, you must have. But I loved you. And that�s what I felt. I felt loved. More so than I ever had, so much it brought tears to my eyes. It made my heart ache and lip tremble and my whole body just tingled because I felt like you really did love me, even if it was just an illusion.

You shuddered above me, came inside of me and collapsed on top of me; I came a second after you, maybe just from knowing I had you inside of me. And I thought I felt your lips pressed to my shoulder blade but that was probably wishful thinking � I wanted to believe I hadn�t imagined that feeling you gave me when you made love to me. Sorry, when you fucked me. There�s a difference. I don�t think that could�ve been making love for you, even if it was for me.

Except� maybe it was? Because you rolled me over, pulled me into your arms and kissed me. You didn�t even pull away when you tasted my blood in your mouth � I know you had to have tasted it because I think my lip was still bleeding and I�d bitten my hand hard enough for it to have bled� But you kissed me. Then you stroked the bloody hair back away from my forehead and just held me close to you as I ached until I fell asleep.

***

I used to sit and watch you sleep. You were always so peaceful then, lying in bed with a small smile on your face like you were in some sort of happier place. I used to wish I could make you that happy, only I knew I never could. I wasn�t made to make you happy.

But when I watched you, I mean really watched you, looking that way like there was nothing wrong in your whole world, I was never sure what to make of you. I don�t really know how to explain the feeling � it�s not cold but it�s not warm, I guess it�s a sort of detachment. I don�t mean like I didn�t feel anything for you because if anything I loved you more in those moments. What I mean is, I didn�t feel close to you. I didn�t feel like I was a part of your world. Watching you when you sleep is like standing on the outside looking in on your world, or at least trying. Or maybe I�m on the inside looking out at your world, I don�t know.

I wonder if your world�s really that much different now without me. Not that I think I was ever really a part of it anyway, I was just a kind of temporary window dressing, something that happened to you or around you rather than with you. You were always so far from my reach. I should have known you were never mind. I should have been smart enough to realise that we were never supposed to be together, not like that, not then. Because you�re so different from me. And you always knew that this could never ever work out.

I used to lie there beside you and watch you for hours. I used to brush back your hair and tell you I loved you so quietly that even if you were awake I knew you couldn�t hear me. Sometimes I almost wished you could. Maybe that would have made everything okay again. Maybe then you wouldn�t have left me and I wouldn�t have hurt you so hard for so long. It�s amazing how all I ever seem to think is �maybe�. Or �what if�.

I wonder if you watched me sleep this morning, all bruised and beaten and covered in blood. I wonder if you told me you loved me. I wonder if you ever watched me sleep. I wonder if you see yourself as a part of my world, or on the outside looking in.

***

I want you to be here. I want to know where you are and I want to you why you left me here. I want to know that you didn�t leave because of me, because I don�t think I could handle knowing that you left so you didn�t have to deal with me, maybe hoping I�d take the hint and leave before you got back.

I�m so scared that�s what happened but I can�t leave because what if you�re just downstairs at breakfast or if you�ve gone to buy a newspaper or something? I need to be here to find out. And even if you wanted me to go, I need to see you just once more, because I want to know this wasn�t the mistake I hope it was.

I want to believe that this was meant t happen. I want to believe you want to be with me. I want to believe that you wanted me for more than quick revenge. I want to know if you ever felt what I wanted you to feel in those moments. I want to know if you ever felt loved. I�m not going to be happy until I see you and I know for sure what happened here.

I need to know. I need to see you. Or maybe I need you to see me, I don�t know. I want you to know that I�m not ashamed of what happened. Because I�m not. It was meant to happen. Because now you know what it was like for me to hurt you. Maybe you even have an idea why I did it. I want to know you did it to me for the same reason. Or maybe that�s just wishful thinking. I guess I�ll know when you get back. I don�t know if I can hold my breath �til then, but I know I can�t leave either. I just want you here with me.

I want you to tell me that was the only way you had left to show me that you loved me, just the way it always was for me.

And even if it�s just for today, I need to know that you felt loved.

***
End
***