April 23
During Climax Control

When the final bell sounded and he was left flat on his back in the middle of the ring, the pain radiating from every part of his body, his eyes blinded by the sweat rolling into them and the lights overhead…

Something inside of him broke.

The next moment, it was like the pain disappeared. The noise of the crowd faded to nothing but static in his ears. He stared up into the lights unblinking until white was all he saw and he felt his retinas searing. The only thing he felt, the only thing he heard…the beating of his heart, thundering in his chest.

He just went numb.

A few moments passed by, but it could have been hours for all he knew. He finally rolled to his side, pushed himself up to rest on his knees. He took a moment to sit there, staring down at the canvas. Slowly, the world came back to life around him, but he paid no mind. He simply made his way to the edge of the ring, rolling under the bottom rope and sitting up on the apron. He slid down to the floor and began the slow trudge up the ramp, not even acknowledging the fans on either side who had their hands outstretched towards him. He kept his gaze lowered to the diamond-patterned steel under his feet as he got up to the entrance stage, pushing his way through the backstage curtain.

The slow walk continued through the production area and down the steps to the backstage hallway, past crew members who shot him curious looks as he made his way past them heading for the locker room. His mind was blank, he just wanted to get out of this arena as quickly as he possibly could.

A gentle hand on his shoulder made him pause mid-step, and he turned his head the barest amount to the left. A fall of blonde hair was enough for him to identify his mother-in-law Laura Phoenix, and he turned his head the rest of the way to look up at her face. Her eyes shone with pity for him, and she opened her mouth to no doubt spew some mindless platitudes meant to soothe his shattered ego.

So instead, he roughly shrugged her hand off of his shoulder and continued walking past her. He was in no mood for any of it at the moment. The smallest part of him felt a flare of guilt, but the feeling was quickly tamped down as he pushed the locker room door open and began roughly shoving his gear in his bag. He stopped to throw on a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants over his gear, and then hefted his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the room. As he headed back down the hallways he passed by Laura again, and she heard him call his name in a stern tone, but he completely ignored her as he headed to the parking lot and to his waiting rental car. Tossing his gear bag into the passenger seat, he put himself behind the wheel but instead of starting the car up, he just sat for a moment, staring out of the front windshield. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tight the knuckles began to turn white, and he felt his breathing start to speed up and his heart rate climb again.

He let all the pent-up rage and frustration course through his body, letting out a guttural yell and pounding the steering wheel over and over with the palm of his hand. When his throat was raw and his hand was tingling with pain, he let the emotions purge from his body and slumped back into his seat. The numbness overtook him again, and he tuned the world out as he started the car and drove back to the hotel.

——-
The next day

He sat on the plane, staring blankly out the window. He had seen a few of his SCW roster mates at the airport before the plane boarded, but he ignored everyone as he checked in and found his seat. Slipping his headphones on over his ears, he silently hoped that the rest of his row stayed empty, as he was still not in much of a mood to interact with anyone. As it was, the only texts he sent to Bella were just to tell her that he was OK and he’d be home soon.

He kept staring out the window, watching as the crew loaded up the plane when he felt someone sit next to him. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, hoping that at least it was a stranger who didn’t know who he was and wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the flight. But when he took a quick look beside him, he was surprised to see Laura sitting in the seat. To her credit, she didn’t acknowledge him at first, simply settling herself into the seat for the trip back to Ireland.

Eventually, the plane was loaded and ready for takeoff, and they were soon in the air and cruising over Europe. For the first hour or so, neither Malachi or Laura spoke with each other. He kept his headphones on while he read a book, and she had her iPad open in front of her as she worked on some business details. But he felt eyes on him after a little while, and he turned to see Laura giving him her best motherly stare.

“Bella’s worried, you know,” she said simply.

He let out a sigh, lowering his book and sliding his headphones off to rest around his neck. “I told her I was fine. I’ve had worse injuries than a few holes from a staple gun…even if a couple of them were in a sensitive area.”

Laura shook her head. “No, your short texts. I mean, I know you’re no James Joyce or anything, but you usually give more than one or two word answers, especially with her. She’s concerned.”

And there it was. The proverbial elephant in the room. He had been on a great run since making his return to SCW, but now that he had three major losses to his name, everyone in his life was concerned. He felt the irritation rising inside of him, but took a deep breath to calm himself. Wouldn’t do him any good to fly off the handle at his mother-in-law, especially on a plane where there wouldn’t be a way to isolate himself. “I understand that, but I’m fine. I’m just trying to keep my mind focused on the next Supercard.”

She looked at him dubiously, but let the matter drop as she turned back to her iPad. He slid the headphones back over his ears and raised up his book, praying that the rest of the flight passed by quickly.

—----------
April 26
Manhattan, New York

“It feels good to be home!” Bella proclaimed loudly as the couple stepped back into their New York townhome. She smiled as she let Luka off her leash so the husky could run around their home, after she had been looked after by Bella’s stepfather Nick for the last few weeks while they had been in Europe. She also set down the small carrier in her hand and snapped open the door, where a small black cat cautiously peeked its head out. “And this will be your new home, Salem. I’m sure you and Luka are going to be best friends in no time.”

Salem meowed and started sniffing around the home, as Bella hung her coat up on the rack on the wall just as Mal came in the door behind her with the luggage. “Babe, I told you I could have helped with that,” she said.

“Not in your condition,” he gruffed as he put the suitcases at the bottom of the stairs. “I almost didn’t want you to carry the cat.”

“Aww, he’s just a little thing, it was fine.”

They kicked off their shoes and headed into the living room, where Bella plopped down on the sofa. “As much as I loved visiting Waterford again, I don’t think I can do much more traveling with you. I feel like I could sleep for a week now!”

He smiled a bit as he went to the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water. “Well, maybe you should take it easy for a little while. Don’t want any unexpected surprises popping up, you know?”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” She sighed, before turning around to look at him. “Hey, how are you feeling, anyways?”

The question caught him a bit off-guard, as he’d gotten over his initial feelings of frustration by the time he and Laura had landed in Ireland, and he thought that everything had been good between them. “I’m fine. Why?”

She gave him a look, the one that said she could see right through him and knew when he was just trying to placate her. “Mom told me about what happened after the show.”

He closed his eyes and let out a short breath through his nose. Thank you, Laura. “Look, I admit, I was a bit…frustrated after that match. But it’s all good, and I’m just focused on the supercard, OK?”

He thought that was going to be the end of the discussion, but then he caught her still staring at him. He felt his irritation rising, much like it had back in Romania with her mother, and he did something that he’d never done towards Bella - he snapped at her. “What the hell do you want me to say, Bella? That I’m just a fuckin’ failure? Because believe me, that’s all that’s been playing in my head nonstop since Sunday.”

Her eyes widened and a look of shock took over her face. “Mal, that’s not what -”

“You may not have said it, but I know what you’re thinking when you look at me. The same thing that Laura’s thinking. The same thing the fans and all the SCW people are probably thinking. I’m sick and tired of getting these opportunities just to have them blow up in my fuckin’ face!” He started pacing the floor, running a hand through his hair. “I’m tired of everyone thinking I’m just some fuckin’ joke. I thought coming back to SCW would be my redemption. That I would finally be someone.”

He stopped pacing and looked over to Bella, who was staring at him with pity in her big blue eyes. But for some reason all that did was stoke his ire even more, and he let out a snarl as he stormed off to the front door.

“Mal! Where are you going?” he heard her call out.

“Somewhere. Anywhere. I need to clear my head.” He slipped on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and then he was out the door, letting it slam behind him.

—------

The iconic sight of the Brooklyn Bridge, highlighted against the night sky by the warm golden lights that dotted the impressive structure, were what greeted the viewers as the scene opened up. The cars passing by provided some background noise as the camera slowly traveled along the deserted footpath. Eventually, a silhouetted figure could be seen leaning against the railing, looking out onto the waters of the East River. As the camera got closer, the person was revealed to be Malachi, but he did not look at the camera as it approached him. He just continued to stare down into the murky, churning waters of the river, the flickering lights from the city illuminating the melancholy look on his face.

“Maybe I should just fill my pockets with rocks and take a leap, hm? I bet there’s a lot of people out there who would not be sad to see me go. Truth be told, it’s almost a tempting proposition. With everything that’s happened lately…”

He left the sentence trailing in the wind, before a cocky smirk overtook his face and he glanced sideways at the camera, his blue eyes glinting like ice chips in the low light. “Nah, you fuckers aren’t getting off that easy. I’ve never been one to take the easy way out, and I sure as hell ain’t gonna start now. Just because I’ve had a few low points lately doesn’t mean that I’m not about to claw and fight my way back into my rightful place in the title picture. And sure enough, another redemption opportunity has been presented to me, almost on a silver fuckin’ platter. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy that Goth had to relinquish the title. I was looking forward to getting another shot at him and the Roulette title, but fate had other plans it seems. Now, I step into the ring with a couple of other men to see which one of us is going to become the new Roulette champion.”

“First up, we got Bill Barnhart. A man that’s got huge delusions of grandeur that he’s about to become a three-time Roulette champion. But just as sure as I beat you a little while ago, I’m about to do the same fuckin’ thing again. I can only imagine what kind of bullshit tale you’re going to spin to bore the masses and try to make your claim as to why you’re gonna be the one to win this match.” Mal gave a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “We all know what to expect with a Bill Barnhart promo, don’t we? Some insane fuckin’ ramblings about picking up his dog’s shit and him trying desperately to spin it in the context of his next match. It might be entertaining…if he didn’t have the personality of fuckin’ drywall.”

He turned to fully face the camera now, crossing his arms over his chest. “I finally got my redemption over you, so if you think for one single solitary second that you’re walking out with that title over me, then you’re even more delusional than I thought. And that’s saying something, because I think you’re pretty god damn delusional to the point where you need to be institutionalized. Maybe after I drop you on your head one more time you’ll get a lick of common sense knocked into you, and you’ll stop rambling like some old geezer in a retirement home. I won’t hold my breath on that, but hey…stranger things have happened around here.”

His arms unfolded and he slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “And then, Peter Vaughn. I saw what you had to say before our match last Sunday. Think you’re fuckin’ clever with the stupid nicknames. You’re not the first one who thought it’d be funny to butcher my name, and I’m sure you won’t be the last, so you can keep on with your unoriginal grade school comedy act as much as you want. It’ll be real hard for you to talk your shit when I’ve headbutted your jaw out the other side of your head. I’ve already had one redemption moment this year against Barnhart, and I’ll damn sure get another one over you when not only do I avenge that loss from the last show, but I become the new Roulette champion in the process.”

His eyes narrowed as his mouth twisted into a vicious sneer, a look that had not been present since his return to SCW. “It doesn’t matter to me just what kind of match this ends up being, but I’m hoping for something a little…violent. Something that’ll give me a chance to get all this pent-up rage and aggression out of my system. Because there’s a lot of it, and come hell or high water, at Into The Void I am ready to do whatever it takes to finally get my hands on singles gold in this company. I don’t care who or what I have to go through in this match. Not a single person in that ring will be spared my wrath if they get in my way.”

He turned his back to the camera and spread his arms to the side. “‘A man can be destroyed but not defeated.’”

April 2
During Climax Control

Taking one last moment to look out at the crowd before he went through the curtain, Malachi could have sworn he heard more cheers than boos ripple through the fans but didn’t stop to think on it too much as he pushed his way through the curtain and into the gorilla position. He was tired, he was sore, his legs felt like rubber after hoisting Barnhart up for the Pure Malice…but there was a smile on his face as he grabbed a towel and a bottle of water from a nearby cart. He had finally avenged that draw that stained his record, and he was ready to put it behind him and focus on whatever came next.

As he descended the stairs from the platform to the floor, a blonde blur came flying towards him and he barely had time to react before Bella threw herself into his arms. He laughed as she peppered his face with kisses while her arms wrapped tightly around him. “Babe, that was incredible! You were incredible!”

He wrapped his arms around her waist as he kissed her forehead. “I thought I told you to stay in the locker room where it’s safe.”

“Oh hush, nothing’s going to happen here. Besides, I brought backup just in case.” Bella pointed with her thumb over her left shoulder, and Mal followed with his gaze to see his mother-in-law Laura Phoenix standing just behind Bella. Fully dressed in her gear as her match is directly following his, she smirked and gave him a small wave as he laughed and shook his head.

“Well, I guess out of all the people on the roster you’d be safest with, your mom is probably number one.”

“Damn straight,” Laura said with a wink. She walked up and gave Mal a quick hug. “She was right though. You looked damn good out there.”

He smirked a bit, rolling his shoulders. “Felt good to finally put that behind me. Though I feel like I might be regretting that Pure Malice come tomorrow. Hell, I’m starting to feel it now.” He winced as he put a hand to his lower back and bent backwards to try and stretch it out a bit.

Both Bella and Laura chuckled a little before a stagehand came by to tell Laura she was needed to make her entrance soon. “Well, it’s showtime.”

“Knock ‘em dead, Mama!” Bella cheered, giving Laura a hug.

“Show them all just where Bella got it from,” Mal said, holding out his fist which Laura bumped with her own as she walked past them and up the stairs to the gorilla position.

Bella started tugging on Mal’s hand. “Come on, let’s get to catering! They’ve got a screen set up there, and I wanna watch Mom kick all the ass!”

Mal groaned slightly as he tried to keep up with his wife’s frantic pace. “Woman, I just finished a match! Can you give me five minutes, please?”

—------

April 5
Saint Otteran’s Cemetery
Waterford, Ireland

It had been a good while since he had been back in his hometown. Between his wrestling debut in the States and the world coming to a standstill with the pandemic, this was a trip that had been a long time coming. And while he was happy about being back in Waterford, the visit to the cemetery was a more subdued occasion.

The sun was shining though there was still a slight chill in the air as Malachi walked the paths between the rows of headstones. Hands tucked into the pockets of his black hoodie, he kept his gaze down as he made his way towards the back of the cemetery. It was a route he knew all too well, having made this trip many times in the 17 years since his father’s passing.

Soon enough, he found himself standing in front of his father’s grave. It was a decently-sized slab of grey granite, with a Celtic Cross engraved along the side of it. As his eyes traveled over the words carved into the centre of it, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar ache in his chest.


He crouched down and rested his hand on the top of the headstone, his fingers brushing along the little stones and coins that had been left there over the years by himself and his siblings, as well as friends and other relatives. He smiled that they were all still there, though they looked quite weathered by this point. “Heya Da,” he started, his normally curt tone softened with grief. “I know it’s been a while since I’ve been here, and I’m sorry. But I’m pretty sure from up there you’ve seen the insanity that we’ve had to deal with over the last three years.” He let out a small chuckle. “Fuckin’ pandemic had the whole world ass over teakettle. But it hasn’t been all bad, I suppose. All three of us got married. Lach and Lanah have kids now. And Bella and I…”

He paused for a moment, his joy warring with his grief. “You should be here, Da. You should be with us, loving on all your grandbabies. You should be here, giving Lach and I advice on how to be good fathers.” A stray tear slipped from his eye as he balled up his hand on top of the headstone into a tight fist. “God, what I wouldn’t give to have you be front row centre, cheering me on Sunday night as I win the title. You always said you never got this wrestling stuff, but I know that you would have been our biggest fan.”

He took a shaky breath, unclenching his hand and flexing his fingers out. “The minute I have that title in my hands, I’m bringing it right back here. I’m gonna make you proud of me. I swear.”

A gentle hand on his shoulder had him glancing up into the warm brown eyes of his mother, Aileen. She gave her middle child a soft smile. “Oh Malachi, he’s always been proud of you no matter what. You don’t need to bring him titles to prove that.”

Mal got to his feet, putting an arm around his mother’s slender shoulders. “I know, Ma. But I’m not just doing this for him. I need to do it for myself too. I need to know that I matter in this business.”

Aileen patted her son’s cheek. “I know you do. But if it helps, just know that you already matter to a lot of people, title or no. To me, your brother and sister, your wife…and that beautiful baby girl that’s on her way to you.”

He smiled softly at that statement. “I know, and I love you all for it. But now…” He stared back down at the headstone, putting his hand back on it one last time. “This time I need to show myself.”

—------

Later that day

“Mal, we’re back!” Bella called out as she and Aileen entered the house. “Not gonna lie, I think I’m gonna need another bag to smuggle some of these snacks back home!”

Aileen laughed as they brought in the bags of groceries. “You know I can always ship them to you as well, dear.”

“Yeah, but you won’t be back here until after Alanah has the baby. This should tide me over until then.” Bella hefted up a shopping bag that was practically bursting at the seams.

“That’s true. As much as I love seeing all my little grandbabies, I do miss being home,” Aileen said fondly, with a look around the kitchen.

“Well, you know you’re always welcome to come over anytime you like. Perks of knowing a guy with a private jet,” Bella winked. “Hmm, surprised Mal hasn’t come stampeding into the kitchen yet.”

“He’s probably up in his old room. You go on, I can put all these away,” Aileen said, waving Bella out of the kitchen.

Bella made her way to the flight of stairs that led up to the second floor. She had only been to Mal’s childhood home a couple of times previously, but she remembered that the bedroom he had shared with Lachlan as they grew up was the last one at the end of the hall. She knocked softly on the door before opening it slowly, peeking her head in.

She saw Mal sitting on one of the twin beds on the right side of the room. His eyes were looking up at all the wrestling posters that papered every square inch of the four walls of the room, only broken up by the small window on the far wall. Most of them were for shows that the boys had attended growing up as fans, but there were a few that featured the two of them as performers as well in their early independent days. When he heard the door open, he turned to see Bella step into the room, and he smiled at her. “Hey, didn’t even hear you two come back. Must have been lost in my thoughts.”

She came and sat down beside him, reaching out to take his hand and run her thumb along the back of it. “You OK?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to take a minute to remember why I got into this business.” He looked back up and around at all the posters. His eyes stopped on one in particular, and he rose up to cross the room. It was advertising a local Waterford show back in 2012 and had a bunch of promotional photos of different local Irish wrestlers on it. Near the bottom left corner there was a small picture of himself at 16 and Lachlan at 19, their fists raised up in the classic promo pose. He smiled as he stared at the picture. “Seems like a lifetime ago.”

Bella came up beside him to look at the poster as well, resting her head on his shoulder. “And look at everything you’ve done since then. You’ve gone all over Europe, winning titles and making a huge name for yourself. Came over to the States and within a year, you were World champion in PWS. A two-time tag champion.” She reached up and cupped his cheek with her hand. “But I don’t want you to put too much pressure on yourself for this match.”

He gave her a curious glance. “What makes you think that I am?”

“You’re not the only observant one, you know. We’ve been together for four years now. I know when you’re pushing yourself too hard in your own head. I know that this title match is a huge opportunity for you, and I know that you’re more than ready for it. But I also know that your head is in complete chaos right now. You’re trying to be the same cocky, confident Malachi that burst into this company and got everyone’s attention in a big way…but you’re also worried that you’re not ready for this yet, and that if you do lose we’ll all be disappointed in you.”

He stared at her wide-eyed for a moment. “Jesus Christ, if I didn’t know any better I would swear that you were a goddamn mind reader.”

She laughed a bit as she pulled on his hand to go sit back down on the bed. “Hey, how many times have you pulled me out of my own head when I get like this too?” She grabbed his hands and held them in her own while she stared into his eyes with a sincere look on her face. “We’re all so very proud of you and everything you’ve done, and you know that we’re all going to be cheering you on all the way. But if worse comes to worse and it happens to not be your night on Sunday, you know that we all love and support you no matter what. It doesn’t make you any less of a good son, husband…” She gently placed his hands on her rounded stomach, smiling softly at him. “Or father.”

He looked down at his hands on her stomach, and then back up to her face. A small smile appeared on his lips and he leaned forward to give her a sweet kiss. They pressed their foreheads together for a moment, before Bella broke the quiet moment. “You know, it’s a shame we’re not high schoolers. Here we are, alone in your bedroom…” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, biting at her bottom lip.

He stared at her again before shaking his head and letting out a beleaguered sigh. “Leave it to you to ruin an emotional moment. You are absolutely incorrigible.”

“And that’s why you love me.” She leaned over to kiss the tip of his nose, just as they heard Aileen calling from downstairs that afternoon tea was ready. The two of them got up off the bed and headed out of the room. But before Malachi left, he stopped in the doorway and looked back around the room one more time. The nostalgic look on his face shifted subtly into a look of determination, as one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk as he slowly closed the door behind him.

———


While the SCW was making its way to Scotland for this week’s edition of Climax Control, this particular promo video opened up in the adjacent country of Ireland. Home of one of the two men who were set to headline this week’s show in what was sure to be an epic battle.

Standing along the coastline of the River Suir in his hometown of Waterford, Malachi leaned up against a steel railing as he watched the boats go slowly cruising up and down the waterway. There was still a chill in the early spring air, and Mal wore a black hoodie paired with blue jeans and Vans sneakers on his feet. His blue eyes were shielded from the early afternoon sun with a pair of sunglasses, and the rest of his face was set in a carefully neutral expression. He stood motionless for a few moments before he pushed off from the railing and turned around to the camera, folding his arms across his chest.

“Welcome to the city of Waterford. Come Sunday, it’ll be known as the hometown of the current SCW World Champion Malachi. I realize that the show this week is taking place over in Scotland this week, but you didn’t expect me to come all this way and not take a trip home, did you? After the insanity of the last three years and not being able to travel for a good majority of them, I was ready to jump on this chance. But this isn’t the only opportunity I got for this leg of the tour. The wrestling gods have smiled on me this week, and I’ve got the biggest match in my SCW career on Sunday night when I face off against the World Champion Michael Harris for the title.”

He uncrossed his arms and lifted the sunglasses off his face to rest on the top of his head. His bright blue eyes stared down the camera lens, burning with their ever-present determination and intensity. “Now, I know there’s probably a lot of you out there thinking ‘how the hell does this guy have a World title shot after only coming back a few months ago?’ Believe me, you’re not saying anything I’m not already telling myself. While it’s true that I’m currently undefeated on Climax Control at 4 and 0, I’m not completely without loss. Back at Blaze of Glory, I went up against Goth for that Roulette title…and I walked away empty handed.”

The confident look on his face faltered for the briefest moment as he lowered his head slightly. It was certainly a change in demeanor for Malachi, normally known to be as brash and arrogant as they come. But then his eyes snapped back up to the camera and they were just as full of fire as before…perhaps even more so.

“And that’s why I am more determined than ever to not repeat the mistakes of the past. I realize that I have been handed one hell of an opportunity, practically on a silver platter, by Mark and Christian. They didn’t have to give this shot to me. There’s probably more than a few guys on this roster that have far more of a claim to a World title shot than I do right now, but here I stand at the head of the line. And I’m not about to throw away my shot. I may be somewhat baffled by it, but I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. I’m taking this, and I’m gonna run like hell with it.”

“And now we come to the part of the video where I address my ‘esteemed’ opponent, right?” He raised up his hands and curled his fingers in the universal sign of air quotes. “Tell me something…what exactly has this man done to walk around here thinking that he’s King Shit? Sure, he’s got the World title on his shoulder…but we all saw how that went down. We’re not fucking blind. The only way the man was going to win that match was to drug his opponent. And he thinks that gives him the right to call himself the ‘greatest champion in SCW’?” Mal shook his head with a look of disgust. “Get the entire fuck out of here with that bullshit. You knew that you didn’t stand a snowball’s chance in hell of winning that title off of Mac legitimately, so you and your harlots pulled some of the shadiest shit I’ve ever seen in a wrestling ring in my entire life. You’re a fraud and a coward, and I’m ready to expose you for it on Sunday night.”

He smirked as he slid his hands into his pockets and leaned back against the railing, the sunlight shining down and haloing around his head. “The way I see it, you probably think this is just some easy puff match, right? You most likely think I’m just some midcarder on a hot streak with a chip on my shoulder and something to prove.” Mal gave a bitter little laugh. “I mean, you’d be partly right. As mentioned before, I am undefeated on Climax Control since I made my return to SCW, and I certainly have a lot of people to prove wrong. But Mark and Christian don’t give these kinds of opportunities to any Joe Blow that comes stumbling into this company. They know that I’m ready to bring the fight to you, and I plan on doing just that. So if you wanna go ahead and underestimate me…be my guest.”

He smirked slightly, before his face took on a serious look. “Thing is, I don’t really know you well enough to know if that is an accurate assumption. But judging by the way you’ve been conducting yourself since you’ve become champion, I’d say it’s a pretty fair assessment. You wanna crow on about being the ‘best champion in SCW history’, but all you’ve done is prove you’re nothing but a coward. Spin it any which way you want Harris, say whatever you need to justify your abhorrent behaviour. Whatever helps you sleep at night, night?  But the truth of it is, we all see straight through your bullshit. Not just the boys and girls here on the SCW roster, but all the fans watching around the world.”

“But maybe this all stems from the fact that you know at any moment, it could all be over like that.” He raised his hand up to snap his fingers. “After all, you’re getting on in years there, Mikey. Fairly certain you’re the oldest champion in the company’s history at 52 years old. While it would be an impressive feat under regular circumstances, the fact that you’ve bullshitted your way to the top of the company sort of takes away the shine of it. So, what’s this all about, hmm? You sat at home, watching the young ones rise up and take over the wrestling world and you thought to yourself ‘hmm, I could still do that?’ So you ring up Mark and Christian and you get yourself a plum little deal, come strolling into the company and talk all your shit, managed to snake your way to a World title shot, win it with the most underhanded tactics, and then think that gives you the right to claim that you’re the best fuckin’ thing to set foot in this company?” He gave a rueful shake of his head. “You know, it’s sad watching dementia play out in real time, but you are a living, breathing example of it. Once I put you down in the middle of that ring on Sunday night, maybe your little women should start researching care homes. I can’t imagine it’s easy for them to have to wrangle your addle-brained ass all day every day. At that point, a care home would be a mercy, quite honestly. I hear they’re pretty nice these days.”

He moved away from the railing and started to pace slowly in front of the camera. “But there’s more going on, isn’t there? I mean, besides your brain being less than showroom condition these days, you’ve got another thing to keep your mind off of this match, don’t you? This whole…whatever it is with Austin James Mercer and Miles Kasey. I mean, I can’t imagine that you’re going to be completely focused on me when you’ve got to worry about those two ready to kick your teeth down your throat. Seems like you’ve bitten off way more than you can chew in a real short time. And for the record, if either one of them happens to interfere with this match, I’m putting it on record right here and now that I will have nothing to do with it. When I beat you, it’s gonna be clean. Unlike you, and despite what some people seem to think of me, I have never had to cheat in my entire career. And I don’t plan on starting anytime soon.”

He stopped pacing and took a strong stance in front of the camera, his eyes blazing with the intense fire and determination once again. “I know that there’s probably a lot of people out there who don’t think I’m ready for this. It’s too soon. And I’m not immune to thinking that myself. But I know that I would be a hell of a better champion than you could ever hope to be. I’m the kind of champion that this company needs. The kind of champion that title deserves. One that won’t back down from any challenge. One that will fight without having to resort to cheap shots and shortcuts to get results. And when I lift my hand on Sunday night with that title high in the air, I promise that I will actually work to become the best champion in this company, instead of just talking shit. So Harris, you can throw whatever you think is going to get you the win on Sunday night, but I guarantee you that there is nothing you can do that will keep me from becoming the brand-new SCW World Champion.”

With a snarl on his face, he drew his thumb across his throat as he turned to walk off, the camera slowly zooming in on his retreating form as it blurred out and finally faded to black.

March 9
Manhattan, New York

He still couldn’t get over the sight of the ornate industrial-style building that housed his friend Mattie Cormier’s new fashion design studio. It was hard to believe to Malachi that the feisty Latina girl that used to hang around backstage at wrestling shows sewing gear for him and his friends and family in the wrestling world now had her own fashion house, and was poised to unveil her debut collection to the world. Even if people thought of him as a grumpy asshole, he’d always had a soft spot for Mattie, and thought of her almost like a little sister. Of course, it helped that she was best friends with his wife and his actual sister, as well.

When he arrived at the studio, he was surprised to find it completely empty. With a puzzled expression on his face, he took a few tentative steps inside, wondering if he got the days mixed up. “Hello?” he called out, his voice echoing in the empty space.

The sound of heels above him had him looking up towards the lofted office space, and he was confused to see not Mattie, but rather her assistant Claire above him. She gave him a bright smile and a wave. “Hey Mal! Come on up!”

He shrugged his shoulders and headed up the staircase at the side of the studio, walking towards Mattie’s studio where Claire was standing, her iPad as always in hand. “Sorry about the lack of…well, anyone. While Ms. Cormier was away in London this past week, she gave all the designers some time off. They’d been working tons of hours to get her first collection out.”

“That’s kind of her,” he said. “But I thought she was due back now? Pretty sure today was the day she wanted me to come by for the fitting of my new gear.”

“Oh, she’s back. Just running a little late, is all. Probably still recovering from the jet lag.” Claire clutched the iPad to her chest, her big brown eyes blinking slowly at him. “If you like, I can get you started. I know where Ms. Cormier has your new gear stashed. You can start to try it on. I’m sure she’ll be here in a little bit.”

Mal gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Well, beats standing around, I guess. Lead the way.”

A bright smile appeared on her face as she took the lead towards the back of the loft where the changing rooms were. He remembered it from the last time he had been here with Bella…just before the pay-per-view that had changed the trajectory of their lives. The memory brought a soft smile to his face as they made their way past the kitchen/cafeteria area.

“Do you want a drink or something before we get started?” Claire asked, gesturing to the room.

Mal shook his head. “Nah, I’m set.”

They continued on to the fitting area, and Claire walked over to a set of doors against the far right wall. She typed a code into an electronic keypad and pulled on the door handle, revealing a wardrobe stuffed full of what appeared to be wrestling gear. All different colours and types of fabric could be seen, and Mal let out a low whistle. “Hard to believe she still has time to make all this stuff for us when she’s a big time fashion designer now.”

“Well, a lot of this is stuff she’s made over the years. Things she’s had ideas for, but no one in particular in mind to wear them. She keeps them for just the right occasions…at least, that’s what she tells me.” Claire rifled through a few hangers, pulling some things out and immediately putting them back. “Ah, here it is!” She lifted out one hanger that had a mid-length sleeveless hooded jacket in a deep green colour hanging from it. Claire opened the zipper on the jacket and in a clear bag attached to the hanger was a matching pair of trunks in his preferred style as well as kickpads to go over his boots and knee pads as well. She held it up with a flourish. “Ta-da! Ms. Cormier’s latest piece de resistance!”

Mal took the hanger from her hands, staring at the gear in awe. “Just when I think she couldn’t do any better, she goes and proves me wrong.” He chuckled. “I swear, that woman must have made a deal with the Devil or something, with the talent she has.”

Claire giggled a bit. “Well, don’t just stand there! Try it on!” She gave him a gentle push in the direction of the changing stalls, and he walked over to them. Locking the door behind him, he quickly changed out of his street clothes and into the new gear. He left off the kick pads and knee pads for the time being, but as he slipped the jacket over his arms to settle it across his shoulders, he already knew this may well be one of his favourite sets of gear so far. It fit perfectly, and the material felt luxurious but also durable. He unlocked the door and stepped out into the main area, making his way over to the set of mirrors on the far side of the room.

He heard a gasp behind him, and turned to see Claire with her hands over her mouth and her brown eyes wide. “Oh my gosh! You look amazing! One of Ms. Cormier’s finest works to date!”

When Claire walked up to approach him, her foot became tangled in a pile of random fabric that had been on the floor, and she began to fall forward with a little scream. But quick as a flash, Mal had darted forward and tried to catch her before she hit the floor. But as he did so, he ended up tumbling himself, and the two of them landed together on the floor, him on his back and her on his chest. She looked up at him almost shyly. “Are you OK? I can’t believe I just did that! I’m such a klutz!”

“I’m fine. Professional wrestler, remember?” He gave a wink. “Are you OK, though?”

“I think so. My foot got caught in that fabric, and I think I might have twisted my ankle a bit.” She was still lying on his chest, her hands pressed against him. He felt a little awkward, so he gently shifted her off to the side so that he could sit up. For a moment, he thought he caught a look of disappointment across her face, but then she looked down to her foot and gently touched it with her hand, wincing slightly. “Yeah, it’s a bit sore. Do you think you could help me to the kitchen so I can get some ice for it?”

“Yeah, of course.” He got to his feet and lifted her up into his arms, carrying her out of the dressing room and out into the hallway. They had just rounded the corner to go to the kitchen, when a light cough drew their attention. They glanced up to see Mattie standing just in front of them, coffee in hand and an eyebrow raised.

“Oh, Ms. Cormier!” Claire squeaked in surprise, her cheeks flushing slightly pink. “Mal got here a bit early, so I just thought I’d get him to start trying on the new gear, and then I tripped and I twisted my ankle, and he was just helping me to -”

Mattie held up a hand, and Claire stopped mid-sentence. “I told you I was just in line at Starbucks and I would be here soon.” She let out a sigh. “Well, what’s done is done. Better get some ice on that ankle. I’ll be in the dressing room when you’re done, Mal, so I can see how this gear fits.”

Mal gave a nod and walked into the kitchen, gently placing Claire down on a chair. He rummaged around in the drawers and found a small plastic bag, which he filled up with ice from the dispenser on the front of one of the fridges. He walked over and knelt down in front of Claire to rest the bag of ice on the ankle that she had propped up on another chair, and she gave him an apologetic smile. “I hope Ms. Cormier isn’t too mad at you. I just thought I was helping.”

Mal gave her a reassuring pat on her shoulder. “It’ll be fine, don’t worry. I’ll just say it was my idea.”

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, though it seemed dangerously close to his lips and lasted just a few seconds too long. “Thank you.”

He straightened up and with an awkward smile, he turned and headed out of the kitchen and back to the dressing room.

—-----

A little while later…

Arriving back at his townhouse, Mal tried to put the odd incident with Claire out of his mind as he typed in the passcode on the electronic lock and let himself into the house. Immediately he heard the scrabble of dog paws on the hardwood and he smiled as Luka came dashing towards him. She slid to a stop right in front of him, tail thumping against the side table as she barked a couple of times.

“Heya, Loony Luka,” he said as he slid off his boots, reaching down to scratch behind her ears. “Where’s Mama at?”

Immediately Luka took off for the living room, and Mal followed after her. He saw the back of Bella’s head as she sat on the couch, but as he walked around to sit beside her, he noticed that she wasn’t alone…

His eyes went wide as he gaped at the swaddled bundle in her arms. “Um, pardon the language…but what the fuck is that?”

She glanced up at him sharply. “Shhh! I just got him to sleep!”

“And just who is ‘him’, exactly?” Mal said, his voice lower as he sat down beside his wife.

“This is Dax, Kallie and Aiden’s little one” Bella cooed, as she turned her gaze back to the sleeping baby in her arms. “Kallie asked me to watch him for a couple hours while she and Aiden went to work out.”

He raised an eyebrow over one eye, giving her an incredulous look. “And you’re telling me that in the entire city of New York, with all the people they know, they had no one else to watch him?”

“I think it was a whole Wolfslair thing at the gym today. Her, Aiden, Alicia, Johanna…they all went in. And, well, since I’m kind of out of commission for the next year or so…” She gave him a sly look. “Besides, it’ll give us a bit more practice!” She turned towards him and gently extended her arms out towards him. “Here. You didn’t really hold Cruz while we were down visiting Lach and Sierra, so here’s your chance.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bella, I know how to hold a baby,” he said, as she gently placed the swaddled infant in his arms. He looked down, and despite himself a soft smile came over his face. “I’ll admit it, the little guy’s pretty cute.”

Bella laid her head on his shoulder as she looked down at Dax with him, running her hand along the top of his head. “Just think, this will be us soon. You, me, and our own little one in our arms.” She rubbed her other hand along her slightly swollen belly.

He looked back up at her, a smile forming across his face as he leaned in to kiss her sweetly. “I can’t wait.”

—----

“Three wins, no losses. Gotta say, it’s a good feeling walking into Blaze of Glory with that record.”

With a slightly cocky smirk gracing his face, Malachi sat up on the rooftop patio of his New York townhome. The sky was coloured a dark grey with low-hanging clouds that looked as if they were about to dump snow at any moment, and a light breeze carried a chill through the air. But the fire crackling away in the firepit in front of Malachi kept him warm enough, the orange light reflecting in his bright blue eyes. He slid his hands into the pockets of his winter coat as he turned towards the camera.

“But what’s going to make that feeling even better is when I walk out of Blaze of Glory with a new piece of hardware and become the new SCW Roulette Champion. The thing is Goth…you don’t need this title. You’ve done it all in this company already. The only reason you’re still here is pure narcissism. You want to keep clinging to the good ol’ glory days. Your eyes are so clouded with nostalgia that you can’t see the future passing you by.”

A lift of his shoulder in a half-shrug. “Harsh? Maybe. But considering how I used to be, this is actually kind of tame for me, you have to admit. All I’m doing is pointing out facts. You have a whole roster of hungry young talent, eager to climb the ranks and make their name, but when you have some old-timer gatekeeping the way it’s a bit frustrating to say the least. So I’m here to bulldoze the roadblock and open the path for the new generation to take over.”

He shifted his weight from side to side, the snow under his feet crunching. “If I’m being completely honest, I actually wasn’t expecting my first title shot quite so soon after making my comeback. I figured I’d have to build up a little more steam. After all, it’s been two years since the last time I competed here in SCW. Not that I’ve been slacking off by any means, but I figured I’d need a bit more momentum on my side before going on my first title run, despite the fact that I’ve made it abundantly clear that I’m coming for all the gold this year. Not to mention, I am currently undefeated since making my return, including one of the toughest matches I’ve had to date at the last Climax Control against HBC. And now…I’ve got all the momentum on my side, and I’m not about to slow down.”

“Much like my brother did before me, I’m not walking into this match thinking it’s going to be a cakewalk by any means. There is a reason you’re a decorated champion and a hall of famer, after all. I saw the war you went through with Lachlan, and I will admit, you still have a hell of a fight in you. And I know that you’re going to fight tooth and nail to keep that title around your waist. But I’ve never been more determined, more focused on anything in my life right now. Like Lachlan before he won the Internet title off you last year, I haven’t held singles gold in SCW yet…but that’s all going to change on Sunday. By the end of this year, I guarantee that my championship record is going to be a mile long, and it all starts at Blaze of Glory when I become the new SCW Roulette Champion.”

He took a power stance in the centre of the camera frame, folding his arms across his chest and widening his feet slightly. The firelight washed over him and gave him an almost otherworldly glow as he spoke. “And one thing I promise when I do become champion - I am going to elevate that title. Right now, it’s looked at as nothing more than a gimmicky bottom-tier belt, an afterthought.” He shook his head, a hard glint of determination flashing in his blue eyes. “Not under my reign. A championship is only as good as its champion, and I plan on being the best damn champion in this entire company. Bar none.”

“So Goth, I want you to come prepared. I want you to come ready for the biggest fight you’ve ever had. Because when it’s all said and done and that final bell rings at the end of the match, you’ll know without a shadow of a doubt that your time is up, and my time is just getting started.”

He raised a hand to run his thumb along his throat in his signature gesture, before the camera focused in on the roaring flames before slowly fading out to black.

January 18
Manhattan, New York

It had certainly been a whirlwind few days for Bella Madison and Malachi. Sunday night, they had been ready for Bella to take to the ring at SCW’s Inception event for a shot at the Bombshell Roulette title, only for the couple to be told that she would not be able to compete…due to her pregnancy.

The news had rocked them to their core. It certainly wasn’t the way they envisioned this particular conversation happening, not with their wrestling bosses and the head of SCW’s medical team - and certainly not broadcast to an international audience. But the proof was there, Bella’s blood test results had shown she was more than likely pregnant.

As soon as they had landed back home in New York, Mal had been on the phone to the office of the doctor that had been taking care of Bella through the fertility treatments. When Bella had questioned him about it, he simply told her that he wanted to be absolutely sure. “No way in hell am I trusting lab results from a man named Al Koholik,” he had grumbled, while Bella rolled her eyes and giggled.

Which is how they now found themselves in the waiting room of Dr. Hilland, waiting to be seen. Bella was sitting in a cushy armchair flipping through a magazine, while Mal was pacing the floor in front of her. She glanced over the top of her magazine at her husband, arching an eyebrow over one blue eye. “Mal, will you sit down? If you pace any more, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor.”

He stopped in his tracks to give her a sheepishly apologetic stare, and took the seat next to her. “Sorry. Just…I don’t want this to be a fluke, you know? Get our hopes up just for the doctor to bring them all crashing down again.”

Bella put the magazine aside and reached over to take his hands in hers, giving him an encouraging smile. “Babe, I really think this is it. I mean, you really think Mark and Christian would tell us live on an internationally broadcast pay per view event unless they knew for sure?”

He gave her a withering stare. “Considering their medical expert was ‘Dr. Al Koholik’, I’m a little disinclined to take it at face value. Christ, I would have trusted Dr. Oz over him.”

Bella giggled. “Come on, babe. Have a little faith. You are Catholic, after all.”

“Non-practicing.” But he leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Alright, alright. Let’s just hope for the best.”

She gave him another smile just as the door opened and Dr. Hilland poked her head out. “Mr. and Mrs. O’Connell, nice to see you again! Come on back.”

They stood up and followed the doctor through the doorway and into an examining room that was set up with an ultrasound machine. The doctor closed the door behind them and turned to the couple, smiling at them brightly. “Well, from what I understand, congratulations are in order!”

“Well…we’re not ready to pop the champagne just yet, doctor,” Mal said.

Bella elbowed him lightly in the side. “What happened to ‘hope for the best’?”

Dr. Hilland laughed. “It’s all right, Bella. With everything the two of you have been through over the past few months, I can understand why your husband is a little hesitant. Luckily, I’ve got a foolproof way to put your minds at ease.” She gestured to the ultrasound machine. “Now Bella, you can go ahead and hop up on the table and get comfortable. I’ll get this all set to go.”

With assistance from Mal, Bella managed to get herself up onto the high examining table and she laid back on the pillow. Mal stood on the opposite side so as not to impede the doctor, and he held on to Bella’s hand. She gave him a big smile, which he returned just as the doctor stepped up beside the bed.

“Alright, everything’s all set to go. Bella, if you wouldn’t mind lifting your shirt just a little bit?”

Bella pushed her shirt up to expose her stomach, and Dr. Hilland poured some gel into her gloved hand. “Fair warning, this is gonna be a bit chilly.”

She rubbed it onto Bella’s stomach, and the sudden chill made her jolt a bit. Mal stifled a laugh behind his hand, and Bella gave him a mock glare. Dr. Hilland finished rubbing the gel on her stomach and lifted the wand from the table beside the bed. “Alright, here we go. The moment of truth.”

She gently pressed the tip of the wand to Bella’s stomach, moving it around in small circles around her belly button while she stared at the screen. The room was quiet while the doctor worked, and when a few moments passed by with nothing, Bella glanced up at Mal with a slightly concerned expression on her face. He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand, reaching over and smoothing back her hair with his other hand. “It’s alright, mo chroí.”

The moments seemed to stretch on forever with no word from the doctor, and Mal was on the edge of throwing up his hands and cursing a blue streak to the gods for giving them the tiniest glimmer of hope only to snatch it away so cruelly, but then…

The faintest little heartbeat.

It was so faint that it could have been easy to miss, but with the silence of the room it was almost thunderous. Dr. Hilland smiled as she zeroed in on a spot just underneath Bella’s belly button. “Ah, there’s the little peanut. Tricky little one already. I think you two are going to have your hands full in about nine months or so.”

And there, up on the screen, in grainy black-and-white…

Their baby.

It wasn’t much more than a misshapen blob, but the doctor pointed out the shape of the head, the tiny nubs of its limbs just beginning to form. Bella let out a sob, the tears flowing down her cheeks as she stared in awe at the screen. But another sob drew both hers and the doctor's attention, and they turned to see Malachi - the tough, no-nonsense, borderline sadistic professional wrestler - openly weeping. The tears spilled out of his eyes and down his cheeks, rolling into his beard. Bella smiled as she squeezed his hand, and he looked down at her with the biggest, proudest smile on his face.

—-----

“And just like that, the comeback kicks off to a winning start. Just like I said it would.”

Sitting in the tastefully decorated living room of his New York townhome, Malachi smirked towards the camera as he relaxed in a cushy armchair. Dressed in dark jeans and a crisp white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he had his right leg crossed over his left with the ankle resting on his knee and his arms folded neatly in his lap. His blue eyes were shining with a determined glare as he settled more into the chair, preparing to speak.

“People are going to learn that when I say something’s going to happen, it’s a damn foregone conclusion. Like two weeks ago, when I said I was coming back to SCW and I was going to have my hand raised after I painted the canvas with Alex Rush…and lo and behold, I came out of that match with the victory. And that was just the first stop on my road to SCW gold. Next up, another annoying little pissant that I’ve already put down once before but am more than happy to do so again - The Troll.”

Malachi gave a roll of his eyes as he dropped his leg to the floor and moved to the edge of the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “You know, I will give you a modicum of credit. You are absolutely winless in this company, and yet you still keep coming back time and time and time again to continuously get your ass handed to you by people who are leagues and miles above you. You may not have wrestling skill, but at least you’re persistent as hell.” He smirked again. “Then again, so is herpes.”

He leaned back again, crossing his arms across his chest. “Am I being a little cruel? Maybe. I know that I said I’d sort of turned over a new leaf, and for the most part I have. But you see, you’ve been an absolute shitheel on Twitter for quite some time now to a lot of people. People I care about. And that just doesn’t sit right with me.” The smirk gradually fell away from his face until he was practically glaring at the camera. “It’s one thing for you to come at me with your pathetic little insults, acting like I give one iota of a fuck what you have to say. But when you come for my pregnant wife - who can hold her own, trust me - that is absolutely unforgivable.”

The smirk returned to his face, though now it was a little more malicious. “Now, some people may be feeling pity for you after your hag of a girlfriend reamed you out on national television, but I’m definitely not one of those people. In fact, I’ve got some receipts from you that are desperately in need of being cashed in.” He reached beside the chair he was sitting in and held up what appeared to be a singular piece of paper. But when he moved a few of his fingers, the paper unfolded to about three feet in length. “I was going to sit here and list all the reasons that you’re an absolutely useless tool, but in all honesty I wouldn’t want to waste the oxygen it would take.”

He quickly balled up the paper in his fist and fired it off to the side, into the crackling fireplace that was beside him. The paper caught flame immediately and quickly burned up into a pile of ash while Malachi rose up from the chair to stand in front of the camera. “No, what I’m going to do instead is march down to that ring on Sunday night, and I’m going to tear you limb from limb. I’m going to show your little woman that she indeed saddled herself with the biggest loser on this planet, and I’m going to enjoy every single moment of it. And then, if you’re truly as smart as you say you are, you will never show your face around my ring again.”

With a snarl, he drew his thumb across his throat as he put a hand over the camera lens, cutting the feed to black.

August 29
During Climax Control

“GET THE HELL OUT OF MY WAY!”

The impassioned holler of Malachi rang through the corridor as he sprinted towards the entrance area to the arena, with crew members barely able to sidestep his mad dash. He paid them no attention as he rounded a corner and skidded to a stop at the bottom of the stairs, where the referee was helping Bella Madison down the stairs. When they got to the bottom, Mal rushed to Bella’s side and threw one of her arms over his shoulder. He nodded to the referee, who nodded back and stepped away to let the couple head back to the locker room.

When they got there, they sat down on the couch and immediately Mal took Bella’s face into his hands, looking her over for any bumps and bruises or signs of concussion. She eventually put her hands over his to stop him. “I’m fine, Mal. Really. Pride is more bruised than anything.”

“Are you fuckin’ daft, woman?” Mal said incredulously. “That she-beast tossed you around the ring like a rag doll. Not that I don’t think you’re tough enough, but even I would have gotten my ass beat by her.”

“I know. Luckily if it hadn’t been for Krystal out there, things could have turned out much worse.” Bella smiled slightly before a knock at the door drew their attention.

“Two minutes to curtain, Malachi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, giving Bella one more once-over. “You sure you’ll be OK back here?”

She gave him a bigger smile and leaned over to peck his cheek. “I’ll be fine. Get out there and get that title shot, mister.”

Mal smirked at her before he grabbed his ring jacket and headed out the door.

——-

Forty-five minutes later...

Bella watched the screen with a disheartened expression on her face, chewing on her thumbnail as the announcement was made that the match between Malachi and Bill Barnhart was ruled a double count-out. She paced the floor a few steps and ran her hands through her blonde hair, when a sudden BANG! made her jump. She looked to the door, where an irate Malachi was standing with sweat running down his face and breathing heavily. He balled up his ring jacket and flung it into a corner of the room before stalking over to the couch and sitting down heavily, putting his head in his hands.

She immediately went to his side, putting an arm around his shoulders and resting her head against his. They sat like that for a few quiet moments, before Mal let out a long sigh and raised his head back up. “Can’t fucking believe I made such a stupid, dumb mistake like that,” he growled through clenched teeth.

“What do you mean?”

“I got so caught up in beating the ever-loving shit out of that brainless dope that I lost direction. I just blanked out and forgot about the match entirely. I was zeroed in on making sure that Bill Barnhart did not walk out of that arena under his own free will.” He let out a frustrated grunt and ran his hands through his hair, pulling on it slightly. “I just can’t believe I did that. Now, I don’t even know what that means for the finals.”

She rubbed his shoulders slightly. “Well, let’s not worry about that for right now. Let’s just head back to the hotel, get a good night’s sleep and head back home tomorrow. We’ve got some babies to snuggle.”

A tiny smile turned up the corners of Mal’s lips as he kissed Bella’s forehead. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

——

New York City

Sitting on the rooftop patio of his New York townhome, Malachi stared out over the flickering lights of the city through the fire blazing in the pit in front of him. The sky was starting to darken as night approached, and the light from the fire cast long shadows across his face. Picking up the beer bottle next to him, he took a long drink before setting it down on the ground. He then leaned his elbows onto his knees and clenched his hands together, resting his chin on them as he stared down the camera set up in front of him.

“I'm not about to sit here and make every excuse under the sun for my performance at the last Climax Control,” he started, his voice low and holding a hard edge that matched the glint in his blue eyes. “I was the one who lost focus, and I fully own up to that. But I will not be making that mistake again. For as much shit as I give Mark Ward, at least he’s a smart businessman and knows the value of a good match, because he saw fit to put me through to the finals despite what happened in that last match. And I will not let this opportunity slip through my fingers.” He held up one hand towards the camera, curling his fingers into a fist. “The only thing this hand is going to be holding at the end of Violent Conduct is ten pounds of leather and gold.”

He dropped his hand back down under his chin, a snarl starting to form on his face as his eyes narrowed and his lip curled in distaste. “Bill, you may be thinking that you’ve got a horseshoe up your ass by making it to the finals of the Internet title tournament by way of sheer dumb luck, but the only thing that’s gonna be up there is my leather-clad foot. So far up there that you’ll be tasting boot leather and flossing your teeth with my laces. I didn’t get the job completely finished on Climax Control, but you can bet your ass that I will get it done at Violent Conduct. I will leave you a bleeding, broken mess at my feet, and you’ll be staring up as I raise MY Internet title high in the air. See, that double count-out did nothing but piss me off and light the biggest fire under my ass. I am coming for that title, and I am coming for your goddamn head. Mark. My. Words.”

“And then, we’ve got Caleb Storms...how the hell this guy got to the finals of a title tournament is beyond me. This is a guy that was perfectly OK with being HANDED a title, like some kind of participation trophy. What he failed to realize is that made him the biggest fucking laughingstock in SCW. He probably thought lightning was going to strike twice when Bill and I got counted out last week, but thank God Mark Ward saw fit to make this match a triple threat. And that means no rules. No countouts, no disqualifications. Anything and everything is perfectly legal.”

His sneer turned into a sinister smirk, made even more malicious by the firelight flickering across his face. “If the two of you aren’t scared by that...then you damn well should be.”

“This is a fuckin’ joke, right?”

Staring at the screen in disbelief while sitting on the couch in his New York townhome, Malachi resisted the urge to rub his eyes comically as he read the card for the upcoming edition of Climax Control. Popping her head over his shoulder from behind him, his wife Bella Madison read the card over as well, a giggle escaping her lips.

“Oh, that is gonna be goooood!” she singsonged, planting a kiss on his cheek. “I can’t wait to see you beat the snot out of that little twerp!”

“Seriously? My first match back in months, in a title tournament no less...and they give me that fuckin’ loser?” Dropping his phone in his lap, Mal ran his hands down his face while groaning. “They could have at least given me a challenge. This Butterball will get winded just making his bloody entrance.”

Bella wrapped her arms around Mal’s chest, resting her chin on his shoulder from behind. “Well, think of it this way - at least you’ll have an easy bye to the next round of the tournament. And believe it or not, you’ll probably be the one getting cheered in this match. That guy could make Mr. Rogers hate him.”

He gave her a withering side-eyed look. “After how many years we’ve been together, you still think I give a crap if I get booed or cheered?”

She rolled her eyes exasperatedly. “Yes, yes, Mr. Grumpy Pants.” Then, muttering under her breath, “Should get Candy to make this a glitter bomb match.”

“I think the fuck not!” Mal exclaimed, rising from his chair and whirling around to haul Bella over his shoulder. “You do, and I’ll break every damn one of your coffee mugs!”

She struggled in his grasp as he hauled her off towards the bedroom. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me.”

He flung her down onto the bed, and immediately pounced on her. They playfully fought for a few moments before Luka leapt up to join in the fun, barking and licking at their faces. The two of them collapsed, breathless from laughter with Luka still trying to get at them before she eventually flopped down above their heads. After they both recovered, Bella turned to cuddle into Mal’s side.

“All I’m saying is that this is our big chance. You in the Internet Title tournament, me running the gauntlet to finally get my one on one with Krystal for the Roulette title...we could both be holding gold again here soon. Only this time it’ll be singles gold.”

“Hey, I thought you wanted us to team up again and go for the Mixed Tag titles.”

“Well, yeah...but that plan will have to go on the back burner for now. I’m not opposed to the idea, but you know the rule.”

“Yeah, yeah, can’t hold two titles at the same time.” He wrapped his arms around Bella and pulled her tight to him, and soon the two of them (along with Luka) had dozed off.

---------------

“So, this is the big ‘welcome back’ I get, huh?”

An unimpressed glare painted the features of Malachi as his baby blue eyes stared daggers through the camera, his arms folded across his chest. Dressed in a loose black tank top and royal blue shorts, the returning SCW star looked just as he always did, a condescending smirk gracing his lips as he uncrossed his arms and reached up to scratch at his cheek. “Not that I was expecting wine and roses, mind you. But if I’m being perfectly honest, I’m a bit shocked that Mark and Christian even wanted me in this tournament to begin with. I haven’t exactly endeared myself to them in the past, so the fact that I’m getting this opportunity is a bit…humbling.”

There was a brief pause to allow the people watching this promo to recover from the shock of Malachi uttering such a statement before the snark returned. “Now, I’m not saying that I should just waltz back in and immediately get a title handed to me, unlike some delusional fuckwits infesting this company…” He gave a pointed look towards the camera. “But I at the very least expected Mark to give me a worthy challenge. Instead, I get a dumpy, loudmouth, arrogant dope who still lives with his mother and is delusional enough to think that’s he’s fuckin’ undefeated?” Mal scoffed derisively. “Don’t know what kind of fucked-up fantasy world he’s living in, but I’m about to kick his ass into reality.”

He paced a few steps, resting his hands on his hips as he did so. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. I don’t hate you, because that would imply a strong feeling towards you. I literally could not give less of a fuck towards you. The only thing you are to me is a really big roadblock on my way to becoming the Internet champion. The fact that someone like you is not only taking up valuable space on this roster but actually considered for this tournament is a fuckin’ joke. And no one is laughing, least of all me.”

He stopped back in the centre of the camera frame, folding his arms back across his chest as he stared daggers at the lens through narrowed eyes. “I will give you this, though - most of the jackasses stuck behind their keyboards are all talk and no fuckin’ action. You at least had the balls to actually step up and step into the ring. So kudos to you on that front. But what you have in bravery, you also have in stupidity times one hundred. Especially if you have any delusions of getting past me in this tournament. The only reason I’m back in SCW is to add more gold to my resume, and the Internet title is square in my sights. And it’ll be a cold, cold day in hell before someone like you stops me from doing what I came here to do.”

With one final glare and a thumb drawn across his throat with a snarl, Malachi stalks out of the scene as the camera slowly fades out to black.

September 26, 2011
Presentation Secondary School
Waterford, Ireland

“There he is, over there!”

“Who, Mal O’Connell?”

“You know him?”

“Yeah, he’s in my homeroom class. He always sits at the back, never talks to anyone.”

Cause I don’t wanna talk to gossipy prats like you, Mal thought to himself as he continued reading. The thought stayed in his head, as he didn’t really want to start the new year off already being hauled off to the principal’s office. He’d been there so many times over the past couple of years that he was practically on a first-name basis with the secretary. Besides, he had promised his mother that he would knuckle down and start focusing on his schoolwork, especially considering he was in his Transition Year. He flipped the page in his book and tried to concentrate, but the two girls seated at the next table continued talking.[/color]

“I mean, I’ve known him since primary. His da died when he was 10.”

“Is that why he’s always alone all the time?”

“Maybe. The only person I’ve ever seen him with is his brother, Lachlan.”

“But who was that girl I saw walking with them this morning?”

“That’s their little sister, Alanah. She just started here this year.”

“Oh, good.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I don’t want any competition from other girls!”

He heard them laugh their high-pitched giggles, and he rolled his eyes. Luckily at that moment the bell rang to signal the return to classes, so he packed up his bag and stood up from the table. He passed the table where the girls were sitting at, and he could feel their stares on his back as he walked out of the library. He resisted the urge to turn around and flip them off, instead choosing to head straight to his next class and hope that they would forget about him.

The next morning

Well, so much for that, Mal thought with a scowl.[/color]

He had arrived at school with Lach and Alanah, and as the siblings approached the school grounds he could see the two girls from the day before standing near the gates. When they saw him approaching, they leaned their heads together and shot glances in his direction as they giggled. He rolled his eyes and gave them a wide berth as he headed into the building.

He arrived at his homeroom and took his usual seat at the back corner of the class, taking out his music player and putting the headphones on until class started. He pulled out a notebook and started writing little notes and drawing sketches to while away the time, until a presence near his desk caught his attention. With an inward groan, he glanced up to see one of the girls from earlier standing near his desk with a bit of a smile on her face.

“Hi Mal!” she chirped brightly. “Remember me? Sile Flynn, from primary school?”

He rolled his eyes and looked back down to his notebook, trying to silently display his disinterest in the conversation. But she would not be deterred so easily.

“My friend and I saw you in the library yesterday. She just started at this school. She’s from Killarny, originally. Anyways, she wanted me to give you this.”

She slid a folded-up note across his desk, right next to his hand. He glared at it, wishing that he could set it on fire with his gaze. He looked up to see her flash him another sunny grin before she skipped off to her desk. He snatched the paper up and was about to crumple it in his hand when curiosity got the better of him and he found himself unfolding it.

Hi, my name is Claire, I just moved to Waterford this year. I’ve seen you around school a few times with your brother and sister. Sile’s told me about you cause she knew you back in primary school. She said that you don’t really talk to people, but maybe it’s because you haven’t found the right person to talk to
Anyways, if you’re interested, come meet me in front of the school after last class. Maybe we can go to the shops together?

After reading the note, he glanced back up to Sile, who gave him a smile and a wave. He gritted his teeth together and turned back to his notebook, cranking up the volume of his earphones.

Later That Day

The bell rang to signal the end of the school day, and the class scrambled to pack their bags and head out the door. Mal took his time, only because he was hoping that maybe Claire would lose interest and leave before he exited the building.

But as soon as he stepped out the doors, he saw her at the bottom of the steps with her gaze trained on the doors. When she saw him emerge, her face lit up in a smile. “Hey, Mal!”

He rolled his eyes and tried to walk past her, hurrying to get to where his brother and sister were waiting by the main school gate, but she hurried to keep up with him. “So, did Sile give you my note?”

At that, he turned to give her a scathing glare, one that had her smile fading away from her face and even taking a hesitant step backwards.

“Listen to me, cause I’m only gonna tell you once,” he growled low in his throat. “I’m not interested, and I never will be interested. So leave me the hell alone.”

Without waiting for a reply, he whirled on his heel and stalked off to where Lachlan and Alanah were standing, leaving Claire standing alone in the yard with tears streaming down her cheeks.

--------------------

“A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of sheep.”

Present Day
Saxon Hotel
Las Vegas

The gym was empty at this time of night, save for one lone individual. The thwack! of flesh hitting leather echoed through the air as Malachi took his aggressions out on a punching bag in the back corner of the gym. Dressed in a pair of loose-fitting black shorts and sneakers, with his fists taped up to resemble a boxers’, he threw punch after punch at the swinging bag, his feet maneuvering in a series of complicated steps as he did so. Sweat beaded and dripped from the pores of his body as he breathed heavily, taking one last huge haymaker to the bag to send it swinging wildly, nearly hitting the wall behind it. He reached out to steady it back to a stationary position before walking off to the side of the room to grab a towel and water bottle that had been set aside. Slinging the towel around his neck and taking a pull from the water bottle, he took a moment to gaze out at the neon glow of Las Vegas from the floor to ceiling windows that occupied one wall of the hotel’s gym.

“Most of my life, I’ve been alone. By choice. I never had relationships, barely had friends. Hell, for a while I was fighting with my own brother. You know why? Because I believed that eventually, everyone will let you down. So I made damn sure that I didn’t have anyone in my life that would let me down. Couldn’t get hurt if there was no one to hurt me, right?”

He let out a little exhale through his nose, his lips curving in a wry smile. “But then, a single wrestling show in Paris one year ago completely changed my life. I met my match. I met a woman who was so incredibly beautiful, smart, kind, sassy as all hell...and she completely saw through my bullshit. She made me realize that I was missing out on so much by not taking those chances. I mean, she took one hell of a chance on me when she agreed to date me, considering everyone around her said that I was nothing but trouble for her. But look at us now, over a year later, still together and going strong. Hell, we’re planning our wedding. And not only that...we finally reached the pinnacle that we had been gunning for for so long. We finally dethroned Wolfslair and became the SCW Mixed Tag Team champions.”

He turned his gaze to the camera, his blue eyes laser-focused and burning bright with intensity. “And that’s despite the ignorant squawking of a certain pair of shitheels who - in a kind of funny twist - have done nothing but bitch and moan that we did nothing but bitch and moan. Much like the sheep you liken your team to, you do nothing but bleat incessantly, repeating the same tired tripe over and over ad nauseum - and it’s going to feel so incredibly relieving once I smash my fist into your jaw and silence you for good.”

He paced the floor a few steps, wiping away an errant trail of sweat from his brow with the edge of the towel. “I know for a fact in my mind that if the two of you had been in our positions back then, you would have just stood meekly by and let those chumps walk straight over you for a title shot they didn’t deserve. You know, like a couple of useless sheep.” He held his hands up. “I know, I keep coming back to the name, but it’s just because I found it so fascinating that you came up with a name that fit the two of you so perfectly. It’s boring, completely uncreative, and utterly delusional. I mean, what the hell exactly makes the two of you ‘black sheep’, anyways? You both walk around here like your shit don’t stink, there’s nothing defining or outstanding about either one of you - unless you want to count those delusions of grandeur you have about taking these titles from us. But even in that regard, you’re still just like every other pair of losers that wants to step up, only to get knocked back down to your rightful place under our heels.”

He moved to take a seat on the bench, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle between his outstretched legs. “Mikah, you think that what Bella and I share is ‘gross’, but all I’m hearing is that you’re jealous you’ll never have what we have because you’re nothing but a stuck-up, frigid, insufferable bitch. Quite frankly, I’m stunned you were even married before. What was it, marriage of convenience? He ‘conveniently’ had a lot of money for you to spend, is that it? Face it, the best you can do anymore is some wrinkled old scrote with one foot in the grave, and that pisses you off to no end. So you pretend that seeing a true couple who love each other and are a true team both in and out of the ring is ‘disgusting’, because you’ll never have what we have.”

A vicious smirk painted itself across Mal’s face as his eyes narrowed in on the camera lens. “And then you’ve got Kris ‘Eternally Friendzoned’ Ryans. Some half-cocked fuckwit who thinks he’s about to reclaim his glory days off of my name.” He held a finger up and waggled it side-to-side. “Not on my fuckin’ watch, mate. See, Bella and I have a record to break, and the first step on that road comes at Violent Conduct when we completely and utterly decimate you and your little galpal, stand atop your broken bodies, and cement our status as the gold standard of the mixed tag division.”

With a thumb drawn across his throat and a vicious snarl, Mal palms the camera to push it out of his way as it cuts to static before fading out to black.

 June 28
Following CC

“I hope they don’t plan on putting me in that bullshit Roulette division on a permanent basis,” Malachi said as he and Bella Madison exited the elevator at the hotel. They had their bags in hand, seemingly having just come back from the GO Gym after that night’s edition of Climax Control. “If I was to go for a solo title, I’d rather go for the Internet title. Not some crap where match stipulations are decided with a goddamn wheel with shit on it like ‘Dog Pound Match’ or whatever other convoluted bullshit they come up with.”

Bella just shook her head with a smile as she rested her head on his shoulder, threading her arm through his as they walked down the carpeted hallway. “Well, let’s just keep our focus on the mixed tag belts for now then, hmm?”

“Of course, macushla” he said, kissing the top of her head. “I know how much you want to win those belts, and we will in due time. I just meant if they’re gonna give me solo matches, I’d rather have them not be some circus side-show act.”

They arrived at their hotel room door, unlocking it and stepping inside. When she heard the door open, their energetic husky puppy Luka scrambled up from her bed near the window and scrabbled across the tile floor to greet them. But when she got a few feet away from them, she stopped dead in her tracks. Her ears flattened against her head, she bared her teeth, and a low growl started rising from her throat.

“Luka? What’s gotten into you?” Bella asked, crouching down by the dog. But Luka’s dual-coloured eyes were firmly locked on Malachi, as the growl grew a little bit louder.

“She probably smells all those other fuckin’ dogs on me from my match,” Mal said, slowly backing away in the direction of the bathroom as he kept his gaze on Luka. “Since I didn’t have time to grab a proper shower before we left the arena.”

A look of understanding crossed Bella’s face, and she stood up to collect Luka’s leash hanging on a hook by the door. “Alright, I’ll take her for a walk to calm her down while you get washed up. Hopefully by the time we get back, she’ll be OK.” Clipping the leash to Luka’s collar, Bella started gently tugging her towards the door. “C’mon Loony Luka, let’s go outside.”

Still giving Mal the stink eye, Luka allowed herself to be pulled towards the door, and when Bella successfully herded them both out and it closed behind them Mal let out a frustrated sigh. “Weird-ass dog,” he muttered to himself, stripping off his T-shirt as he headed towards the bathroom.

A little while later

Freshly showered and sitting in the living room with the remote in hand, Malachi flipped through the TV channels as he heard the door open. He turned to see Bella walk in with Luka, and a paper bag in her hand. She unclipped Luka from her leash, and the puppy walked into the living room. She stopped when she saw Mal, but a few tentative sniffs was all it took before she was wagging her tail excitedly and bounding up onto the couch into Mal’s lap, licking his face all over.

“Ugh! I just had a shower, ya mutt!” he spluttered, though there was laughter in his voice.

“Guess she thought you missed a few spots,” Bella giggled as she sat the paper bag down on the table and flopped onto the couch beside them. “At least she’s not jealous anymore.”

“I would almost prefer it over this,” he said teasingly as the dog settled in between them and rested her head on her paws. He glanced at the bag on the table. “What kind of new tooth-rotting sweet did you find tonight?”

A big smile appeared on Bella’s face as she reached over for the bag, opening it up and producing two large clear plastic cups full to the top. “Oh my god Mal! I passed by this place called Luv It and it practically screamed my name! They had so many flavours of ice cream, sundaes, milkshakes…”

He raised an amused eyebrow at her. “You know, if I didn’t see the way you train, I would wonder about where you put all this junk you like to eat.”

She rolled her eyes at him, thrusting one of the cups towards his chest. “Ugh, you act like I eat junk all the time! You’re the one that keeps us on that strict as hell diet!”

“It’s not even a diet! It’s just eating properly. You know, with us being high-calibre athletes and all.”

“Whatever. Today is cheat day anyways. And besides, they had a milkshake flavour called Health Bar. I’m sure it’s got protein and kale and whatever else in it. That’s the one I got for you. And I got the extra-thick kind, so you’re gonna need this.” She handed him a plastic spoon along with the cup.

He took them from her and popped the lid off, giving it a sniff. “Funny, it smells like chocolate.” He dipped the spoon in and brought it up to his mouth, giving it a taste. “This is actually pretty damn good.”

“Oooooo, lemme taste!”

He rolled his eyes as he scooped up some more and offered it out to her. She licked it off the spoon, and then burst out laughing. “So THAT’S why the cashier gave me a weird look when I ordered this one!”

He blinked at her in confusion for a moment. “I’m not even sure I want to ask…”

“Well, when I looked on the menu, I thought this one said Health Bar, and I figured you would like it. But now that I taste it, I realize that it’s Heath Bar! Yunno, like the chocolate bar?” She dissolved into another fit of giggles.

“Woman, sometimes I swear I should have you committed,” Mal commented dryly. Luka let out a short bark. “See, even the dog agrees with me!”

-------------------

July 3
Saxon Hotel

Another Friday, another promo filmed at the hotel. It was starting to wear paper-thin to Malachi, but there wasn’t much he could do about it unfortunately. He almost wished he was back home in Ireland, as at least Europe was starting to ease its restrictions. But because the majority of the American population thought a life-saving measure was “tyranny”, the US was still in varying stages of lockdown.

He let out a sigh as all these thoughts rolled through his brain, staring out at the neon glow rising over Las Vegas. What he wouldn’t give to see Waterford Harbour again. But, that would have to be put on the back burner. This week, he was teaming up with Bella - as the newly-dubbed Sass N’ Bash - going up against the husband and wife duo of Bill and Bea Barnhart. The Irishman looked to be relaxed and at ease as he reclined on the loveseat out on the balcony of their hotel room, but that probably had more to do with the fact that his fiancee was cuddled up next to him, engrossed in a thick novel. He glanced down at her with a fond smile, before he put on his “promo face” and sent an intense glare shooting towards the camera set up in front of him.

“You know, it almost seems like the closer we get, the further away the target is. Bella and I have been chasing these mixed tag titles for what feels like forever, and when we were finally close enough to practically feel that ten pounds of gold and leather in our hands….” He clenched his teeth together as he looked down at the ground for a moment, before looking back up with a focused intensity burning in his blue eyes. “And what should have been our rematch was instead given to the team that actually took the loss in that triple threat. Freebird rule or not, that was some complete bullshit if you ask me. And now, instead of Bella and I finally getting our rematch, we’re being forced to compete against a man who once upon a time could have had a lot of potential, but now has become the laughingstock of the locker room, and his little woman.”

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, I said it. I can recognize when someone’s got some real potential, and Bill had all the hallmarks of someone who could have gone far here. When you came into SCW, a lot of people sat up and took notice. Here comes this big, tough-looking guy, surely he’ll be a champion in no time! You racked up a few wins here and there, and now?” He shook his head ruefully as a grimace took over his face. “Now you’re just known as the guy whose dog wants to fuck a cactus. All I want is some goddamn competition around here, is that really so much to ask? Jesus, the more time passes around here, the more this place turns into some carnival freak show!”

He ran his hands down his face in frustration. “I have been a World Champion. Hell, even before I came over to the States, Lach and I traveled all across Europe, winning belts and becoming one of the best tag teams on that continent. I have trained with some of the most influential and premier athletes in this sport. I came to SCW because I heard it’s this supposed holy grail of talent and competition...and time after time I have been left disappointed. I guess this week I can’t really blame Mark and Christian. I will give the devils their due, they have been giving Bella and I the opportunities we rightly deserve. No, this week I have that entitled little shitheel George Washington to thank for this crap booking.”

Bella didn’t even glance up from her book as she corrected him. “Jack.”

“What about him? He’s off playing with that rat-faced dog of his.”

Bella shook her head with an exasperated sigh. “No, it’s Jack Washington. That’s the guy that set the card this week.”

Mal gave a shrug of his shoulders. “What the fuck ever. Idiot didn’t even give a shit when we told him we’re not actually a married couple, so why should I give a shit about his stupid name? Doesn’t even matter, Ben Jordan’s gonna wipe the floor with him and that’s the last we’ll ever see of him, hopefully. Just like you and I are gonna do to the Barnharts.” He turned his focus back to the camera. “As I was saying, I am a world-travelled wrestler. I’ve won more belts than you could possibly imagine. Bella is a second-generation superstar. This business is practically built into her DNA. Between the two of us, we should be ruling this company. And that will come in time. But for right now, we’ve decided to meld our considerable talents and start by taking over the mixed tag division. Now, it doesn’t seem like the two of you are chomping at the bit to throw yourselves full-time into the division, and for that I will say, smart move. Already we’ve had too many of these smart-mouth pretenders try to step up and cut the line, and we’ve put them in their place. And trust me when I say, we will not hesitate to keep doing it. We should have been the ones getting that title shot last week. But that’s fine. It was kind of entertaining watching as - once again - the Trenton Tigers got completely outmatched. We can only hope that they go away for a long, long time. Long enough for them to gain a semblance of in-ring ability, not to mention some humility as well. Because for all the shit they talked, they certainly weren’t able to back it up.”

Leaning forward slightly so that his face almost filled the camera frame, Mal’s blue eyes glittered under the neon night of Las Vegas as he spoke his next words. “Unlike me. When I tell someone that they are going to be in for a world of hurt when they face me, I’m just letting them know the score. Of course, my record isn’t completely spotless. I’m not so delusional to pretend otherwise, like some others around this place. But no matter what, when I step between those ropes and enter that ring, I make sure that my opponents know just who they’re dealing with. The ones that have handed me defeat have damn sure had to earn it. This week, though? The only thing you two are going to earn is a whole lot of pain and suffering. Bella and I are on a warpath straight to the heart of the Wolfslair and our eventual title reign, and you two just so happen to be in our way this week. And once you recover from the inevitable arse-kicking on Sunday night, you can thank our illustrious ‘King’ Washington for the honour.”

With a final cocky smirk gracing his lips and his signature taunt of drawing his thumb across his throat, he leaned back in the loveseat, wrapping an arm around Bella as the scene panned over to the neon lights before blurring out and eventually fading to black.

 May 30 - late evening
Saxon Hotel (where the hell else?)

He sat back, away from the crowds of people talking, laughing, drinking and dancing as they mingled at the rooftop bar that was currently hosting the wedding reception of his older brother Lachlan and Sierra. He watched as the newlywed couple greeted everyone that turned up (well, moreso Lachlan than Sierra) as he leaned back in his chair, swirling a glass of red wine around in his hand. A pair of feminine arms wrapped around his chest from behind, and he smiled as Bella Madison rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned to kiss her cheek, but she was quick and turned her own face so that they ended up kissing on the lips. Mal chuckled as she walked around him and promptly sat down in his lap.

“I’m actually glad you convinced me to come,” she admitted, leaning to rest her head on his chest. “I know I haven’t been in the best mindset since all this...insanity started. First Mattie, then Aaron…”

Mal put the glass down on the table so that he could wrap both arms around Bella, pulling her tight to his chest and resting his cheek on the top of her head while she buried her face into his chest. “Listen to me, macushla...things are going to get better soon. Nick will find Aaron, Mack will find Mattie, this whole virus bullshit will be over, and then we’re throwing the biggest fuckin’ party any of us have ever seen. We’ll all get so shitfaced we’ll forget the last few months even happened.”

Bella smiled a bit. “Yeah, that sounds like something Levi would be ecstatic to put together.” She looked up at him, her blue eyes sparkling in the light of the candles from the table. “We could even throw in our engagement as a reason to celebrate, since we haven’t really had a proper party.”

“Not to mention our mixed tag title win,” Mal smirked.

She returned the smirk. “That too, of course. Gosh, we’re gonna have so much to celebrate.”

“See? That’s the spirit.” He leaned in and softly kissed her forehead. “We just have to have faith that it’s all going to be OK.”

They fell into quiet for a moment, watching as Sierra and Lachlan took to the makeshift dance floor for their first dance together as husband and wife. Bella let out a dreamy sigh. “I can’t believe that’s going to be us soon.”

Mal smiled, glancing down at her left hand and the engagement ring sparkling on her fourth finger. “Neither can I, and I’m the one that put the damn ring on your finger.” He paused a moment, looking thoughtful. “You know, I just had a thought...we can start the celebrations a little early.”

She glanced up at him curiously. “What do you mean?”

“Well, next Saturday will be an anniversary of sorts…”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Still not following.”

He gave her a bit of a withering stare. “Next Saturday will have been a year since you officially started your wrestling career.”

She blinked in surprise. “Really? I guess with everything else going on, it completely slipped my mind.”

Mal nodded. “Yep, last year at Destiny was when you stormed the ring and clocked Levi in the head with that steel chair, kicking off the first of many epic battles we’ve had over in PWS.”

She smiled a little. “And got me nominated twice in the same category at the year end awards.”

“See? Wherever you go, you know how to make a damn statement. Might have taken a bit longer here in SCW, but I’ll be damned if they don’t know who you are by now.”

“Well, that’s only because I needed you by my side to kick my self-loathing ass into gear and remind myself that I’m second-gen not to be fucked with.”

He grinned at her. “You know, I kinda love that saying. It suits you perfectly. And I can’t take all the credit, love. After all, I nearly got the both of us fired.”

“Good thing you pulled your head out of your ass then, isn’t it?” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a roll of his eyes. “Look, we can keep rehashing my nearly epic fuck-up, or better yet we can look ahead to Into The Void and focus on getting the biggest win of our SCW careers, as well as our first taste of gold.”

She smiled, leaning up to give him a lingering kiss. “I like that plan.”

“Figured you would.”

Their attention was drawn back to the dance floor, where a group of women were starting to fill up the middle of it. “Shit, the bouquet toss!” Bella said, jumping to her feet. “I gotta make sure that Alanah is part of that!”

Mal tugged on her wrist, causing Bella to tumble back into his lap. She was about to get angry with him, but he simply pointed to the group. “I don’t think you have to worry about that.”

She followed his finger to see that, sure enough, Malachi’s younger sister Alanah was right in the centre of the group. She looked a little uncomfortable being there, but she was surrounded on all sides and was unable to escape the group.

“I wonder who got her up there?” Bella wondered out loud.

Mal gave a shrug of his shoulders. “Dunno, but this is about to be a clusterfuck of epic proportions.”

Sierra finally came onto the dance floor, looking slightly embarrassed but with a little smile on her face as she turned her back to the crowd and tossed the bouquet of flowers over her head. The women in the crowd started scrambling, but soon they stopped and parted to reveal that the flowers had been caught by…

Alanah.

She looked absolutely stunned, her brown eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape, even as the women around her clapped and congratulated her. Bella let out a little squeal of happiness as she jumped off Mal’s lap again and rushed over to Alanah, giving her a big hug. Mal just blinked in shock, before grabbing the wine glass and downing its contents in one gulp. He stared at the empty glass for a moment, shaking his head and rising to his feet.

“I’m gonna need something stronger to deal with this.”

—————-

June 5
Saxon Hotel - rooftop bar

Another Friday night, with SCW quarantined in the Saxon Hotel while the virus raged on around them. Of course, being that it was a Friday night, the rooftop bar was the hot spot as many of the staff and roster of the company enjoyed the warm night as they drank and mingled.

But there was one person who - surprise, surprise - was off on his own, sitting on a plush lounge chair near a tabletop fireplace, nursing a bottle of Heineken. Malachi was used to being on his own, and truth be told he much preferred it that way. He was fairly certain that most of the roster still didn’t trust him for what he did to Lachlan, but he couldn’t care less. He had never been one to make friends easily, even back when he was a young boy.

“You know, I’ve had a lot of people squawking at me over the last little while about how ever since I started teaming up with Bella, I’ve ‘gone soft’. That I’m not the same ruthless, malicious bastard that walked into this company and gave my own brother a concussion and cost him a shot at the World title.” He chuckled slightly. “Normally, I’d go off on people like that, but in all honesty, I feel sorry for the pathetic basement-dwelling little incels. You know, the ones who call themselves ‘good guys’ but call any woman who won’t date them a bitch? Just because I get the privilege of teaming with my ridiculously beautiful fiancee does not mean I’ve lost my edge. If anything, it’s sharpened it. Because now I have something to fight for. I have a reason for everything that I do in that ring. Every hit I land, every body I break, it’s all to prove that Bella Madison and Malachi are the future of the Mixed Tag division. And in two days, that statement becomes fact.”

He finally turned his eyes to the camera, the fire reflecting in their blue depths and adding an almost otherworld ferocity to them, though the rest of his face remained carefully neutral.

“It’s coming down to the wire. This is when the nerves ramp up, the intensity gets dialed up to eleven, and we make that last push to prove to everyone with words just why you should believe in us. That is, before we step into the ring and prove it with our talent, our determination, and our hard work. Six of the best that SCW has to offer will be stepping into that ring on Sunday night, and every single one of us is more than ready to lay everything on the line for that shot at golden glory. So, let’s break it all down, shall we?”

He reclined back in the lounger, bringing one leg up to rest an ankle across his knee while he laced his fingers together across his chest. His face took on a pensive look.

“Brandon and Daniela. Two of the four members of the Trenton Tigers. The founding members, if I’m not mistaken. The team that almost didn’t make it to the dance in favour of some Johnny-come-latelys. See, if I were the two of you, I’d be right pissed that I’d fought tooth and nail to get a shot like this only to give it up to two people that just sat back and let you do all the dirty work. Look, I will give you both the credit you deserve...you weren’t exactly the walk in the park that I had been expecting. In fact, you two are pretty damn tough. And yeah, you proved me wrong when you stepped to us and pulled out the win. But lightning ain’t gonna strike twice. See, I’ve learned from that mistake, and I’m not going to make it again on Sunday. Neither will Bella, for that matter. We’ve both been watching that match back, almost obsessively. We’ve picked it apart, down to its bare bones. We’ve strategized more than a well-trained Spartan battalion, and we know that we are ready to avenge our loss to you. The fact that we’ll be coming out of this as champions...well, that just sweetens the pot.”

“And now we come to the reigning champs. Alex Jones and Johanna Krieger. One of the most dominant mixed tag teams in this division since...well, probably my brother and Sierra. Everyone's got the two of you as the odds-on-favourite to walk out of Into the Void still the champs. I mean, why wouldn’t you be? You’ve proven every time the two of you step into that ring that you are not a team to be fucked with. You’ve systematically destroyed every other team that’s dared to step up to you. So yeah, I can see why you’d be the favourites to win. But see, you may have designs on breaking some records with those belts, but it just ain’t gonna happen. Because Sunday night, your watch comes to its end, and a new guard takes up the banner. Don’t get me wrong, you’ve set quite the standard for the mixed tag division, a standard that for most others may be quite impossible to live up to. But trust me when I say that not only are Bella and I up to the challenge of meeting that standard...we are more than ready to raise it so much higher.”

He sat back up, leaning slightly so he was centred in the camera shot. This time, there was no mistaking the pure determination in his eyes as he stared down the lens.

“The new era begins on Sunday night.”

Drawing his thumb across his throat in his now trademark gesture, he rose from the chair and walked out of frame, while the camera blurred out on the crackling fire until the scene faded away to black.

 May 17
Backstage at Climax Control

Following the announcement that Bella Madison and Malachi were getting a second chance to qualify for a contendership to the Mixed Tag Team championships, the young couple were elated as they emerged from the curtain heading backstage at the Staggs Dungeon. Once they were in the hallway, Bella turned to Mal and grabbed his face, giving him a passionate kiss.

“Well, that went a hell of a lot better than I expected,” she said, cuddling into Mal’s side when he draped an arm across her shoulders as they headed down the hallway.

“Sure did. Though I’m still not entirely convinced I didn’t have a stroke out there,” Mal chuckled. “Christian actually saying he agreed with me? I may have to get that video clip and keep it for posterity.”

“Kinda makes you rethink all those nasty things you said about him and Mark on Twitter, doesn’t it?” Bella said, sticking out her tongue at him as she poked him in the side.

“...maybe a little. But hey, it got us what we wanted, didn’t it? A second chance for a shot at the Mixed Tag titles.”

“And this time, we are not going to let this opportunity get away from us.” Bella’s voice held a bit of an edge as her blue eyes sparkled with determination. “We’re going to bust our asses in training this week, we’re going to push ourselves to the limit, and then we’re going to go beyond those limits. We’re not going to let the fucking Trenton Tigers get past us twice. We’re gonna destroy Char and Vector, and then we’re going to Into The Void and we’re going to win those damn tag belts.”

Malachi stared wide-eyed at Bella, before a smile cracked his face and he leaned in to kiss the side of her head. “God damn right we are! That’s my little hellcat.”

They grinned at each other, before the sound of a light cough drew their attention. They glanced up to see Malachi’s sister Alanah O’Connell standing at the end of the hallway, arms folded over her chest and her dark brown eyes narrowed at them. Despite the fact that half of her face was covered with a light pink cloth mask, there was no mistaking her look of disapproval.

“Lanah? What the hell are you doing here?” Mal said as they approached her.

She raised a slender eyebrow at the question. “What do you mean? Am I not allowed to be here, just because my boyfriend doesn’t have a match? I do have family on this roster as well, you know.”

Mal looked a little sheepish, rubbing at the back of his neck. “That’s not what I meant. You shouldn’t be risking your health coming here if you don’t need to be out.”

“Well, I wanted to see what the whole fuss was with you two and the Trenton Tigers. Sue me for wanting to keep updated with my brother and future sister-in-law’s careers.” Her eyes narrowed further at them. “Which, by the way...what the hell is wrong with you two? What the hell was all that out there? I would have expected that kind of attitude from you, Mal…” Alanah turned to look at Bella. “But not you. He really is becoming a bad influence on you.”

Bella sighed, running a hand through her blonde hair. “Look, it’s just that...well, playing the nice, respectful girl got me absolutely nowhere. And yeah, maybe I was a little pissed off that two people just waltzed on in and took what they sure as hell didn’t earn. Can you really blame me?”

Alanah’s gaze softened slightly. “I guess not...but still, there are better ways to go about it than ranting and raving all over Twitter and nearly losing your jobs!”

“Alright, alright,” Mal said. “I’ve already had my arse thoroughly wrung out by not only Christian in the ring tonight, but by Bella as well. Multiple times.” He gave Bella a sideways look, and she merely smiled innocently at him. Mal rolled his eyes, but held up his hands and placed one over his heart. “If it makes you happy, I solemnly swear that I will be a good boy and not fuck up our second chance at the mixed tag titles. I will stay away from Twitter and not call anyone a cockrag…unless they absolutely deserve it.”

Bella elbowed him sharply in the side, and Alanah couldn’t help but let a little giggle escape. “I’m gonna hold you to that...if only to see how long it takes until you break and you’re back to your old habits,” Alanah said.

“I’m hurt that you would think so little of me!” Mal said, wrapping an arm around Alanah’s shoulder so that both girls were pulled to his side as the trio continued down the hall together. “Like I told Bella, I’m convinced I had a stroke in that ring, so maybe that near-death experience changed my outlook on things. Maybe I’m turning a corner and I’m going to start being nicer to people.”

Alanah and Bella traded rolling-eye looks behind Mal’s back. “Yeah, right, and I’m the fucking Queen of England,” Bella said.

“I’m convinced you would call the Devil himself a shitheel right to his face,” Alanah teased, poking her brother in the side.

“Well, if he deserved it…”

They all shared a laugh as they rounded a corner and disappeared from view.

----------

May 20
Saxon Hotel

“The hell do you mean, you’re not having a bachelor party?”

Malachi’s incredulous voice echoed in the hotel suite belonging to his older brother Lachlan Kane, as well as Lachlan’s fiancee Sierra Williams and her two daughters. Currently it was just the two brothers occupying it, as Sierra had taken Jade and Olivia down to the pool to let the boys talk about the plans for Lachlan and Sierra’s wedding coming up on the 30th. The brothers were sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen area of the suite, each with a glass of (what else) Jameson.

Lachlan gave a shrug of his shoulders as he took a sip of his drink. “Well, for starters, I don’t even want one. And besides, even if I did, how in the hell would you pull it off with the state of the world right now? We’re not even allowed to leave the hotel, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“OK, so we can’t have a full-on rager like I had originally planned.”

Lach narrowed his eyes at his younger brother. “What do you mean, ‘originally planned’?”

“Lach, I’m your best man. Planning your last night as a free man is in the job description.”

Lachlan shook his head and gave an exasperated sigh. “Continue.”

Mal clapped a hand to his shoulder. “Look, just cause we’re locked down in a hotel doesn’t mean we still can’t celebrate. We just gotta use what we have available. There’s a bar on the rooftop, so at least we’ve got the alcohol covered.”

Lachlan smirks a little. “How is that different from any other Saturday night back home in Waterford?”

“I’m getting there! Just need to figure out a bit of ‘entertainment’…” Mal gave a suggestive wink.

“Ooooooohhhhh no. Don’t even think about it,” Lachlan warned him, with a stern finger pointed at his chest. “Besides, where the hell would you even get strippers when everything’s locked down?”

“Have you seen some of the women this company employs? I’m sure one or two of them moonlight.”

Lachlan hangs his head with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You just can’t help yourself, can you? You just have to be an asshole 24/7.”

Mal shrugs. “Part of my charm, what can I say?”

“Yeah, well...from the rumours I heard, your ‘charm’ nearly got your arse fired, not to mention Bella’s.”

The easygoing grin faded from Mal’s face, replaced by a look of chagrin as he took a shot of his drink. “Yeah, thanks for the reminder. You think I don’t feel bad enough about it? I was fine taking the heat for all that...but Bella shouldn’t have been dragged into all this.”

“Well, that’s part of being in a relationship. Everything you do is going to be reflected on her...good or bad. You’re really gonna have to mind your p’s and q’s if you’re really serious about the two of you making a real go in the mixed tag division.”

Mal ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly while letting out a dejected sigh. “I know, I know. That woman deserves the world, but if I keep running my mouth, I could fuck it all up. Not only for me, but for her.”

Lach gave him an encouraging smile. “Now you’re getting it. I’m not saying you can’t still be your...charming self, but you just have to pick and choose your battles from now on. Although I’d highly suggest that you not pick your battles with Mark or Christian if you wanna stay around SCW.”

“Yeah, I'm starting to realize that. Those guys are not even in the vicinity of fucking around when they make threats. Not gonna admit this to their faces...but on the off chance that Bella and I do end up losing on Sunday, I’m slightly worried as to what exactly Christian would have in store for me at Into The Void.” Mal shuddered slightly.

“Well...guess that’s just even more motivation for you to win this Sunday, isn’t it?”

“Damn straight.”

“Well, then let’s drink to yours and Bella’s victory.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

The brothers shared a grin as they clinked their glasses together.

------------------

May 22
Early evening
Saxon Hotel

Even though humanity seemed like it was going to hell in a handbasket, the world itself carried on as normal. That much was evident in the brilliant sunset that painted the skies over Las Vegas on this Friday evening, tinting the atmosphere in warm hues of yellow, red and orange.

This was one of those nights that Malachi wished he was back home in Ireland, standing on the coastline outside his childhood home and watching the sunset across Waterford Harbour. But he was here in the US, watching as the country’s citizens slowly lost their ever-loving minds. It baffled him to no end how people could be so god-damn ridiculous as to protest measures meant to protect their health and safety, while his home country and its citizens (among hundreds of others across the world) did everything they could to keep the spread of the virus contained. He shook his head as he stared at the television playing the news before reaching for the remote to shut it off. Any more of that and he was liable to start bashing his head against a wall.

Emerging from the bathroom wrapped in a plush bathrobe, Bella Madison took the seat next to him on the couch. “Had enough of the news?” she asked.

“If I saw one more protest sign saying ‘I need a haircut’ I was gonna fly to Michigan with a pair of clippers and start shaving every last one of those morons bald,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sorry to say babe, but your country is populated with dumbasses.”

“Believe me, you are preaching to the choir,” she said, giving a roll of her eyes. “But why don’t you take that rage and direct it to a more pressing matter? Like, say...our match coming up on Sunday?”

“Well, that’s just putting me at a whole new level of rage, thinking about that,” Mal replied.

Bella rolled her eyes again, but gave him a shove so that he was forced to rise from the couch. “Go tear ‘em apart with your words before we tear them apart on Sunday.”

With a cocky grin across his face, Mal made his way out to the balcony of their hotel suite, sitting down at the small table and chair set up. From the table, he picked up a deck of cards, shuffling them idly in his hands while he stared off across the distance, the sunset giving his skin a golden glow and making his blue eyes sparkle. After a moment of quiet contemplation, he turned his gaze towards the camera, his face taking on an aloof curiosity.

“Yunno, I’m still trying to figure out what kind of hokey bullshit voodoo magic that Hastings chick has over the Trenton Tigers. I mean, how fuckin’ brainwashed have you got Daniela and Brandon for the two of them to pull off the impossible and beat Bella and I for a shot at the Mixed Tag titles, only for those two other shitheels Char Kwan and Vector Rodgers to come waltzing in and claim that contendership for themselves without a second thought? Hell, if I were Brandon and Daniela, I’d be furious.” A devious smirk came across Malachi’s face. “Then again, who's to say they aren’t? Maybe they’re keeping up appearances, acting like everything's A-OK in your merry ol’ land of Oz, but deep down inside they’re boiling. If I were the two of you, I would watch your backs come Sunday night.” He shrugs his shoulders lazily. “But hey, why would you listen to one half of the team that’s about to kick your asses across every square inch of that canvas? Don’t blame you if you don’t. After all, I could be lying to you. Trying to sow the seeds of dissention in your ranks to make it easier for Bella and I to steamroll over you on our way to our rightfully deserved title shot.”

He leaned forward in the chair, his blue eyes darkening with a stormy rage. “Here’s the thing though - Bella and I don’t need the advantage. We are walking into that arena on Sunday night more focused, more determined, and more pissed off than we have ever been. We are going in with one singular goal in mind - to annihilate you pretenders to the throne.”

He finished shuffling the cards in his hands, laying the deck face-down on the table. Picking up the top two cards, he flipped them towards the camera, showing a pair of jokers. “Well, would you look at that. Couple of jokers, the most useless cards in the deck. Seems fitting to compare them to the two of you. After all, you did come crawling up from the depths, expecting to be handed something when you didn’t do a god-damn thing to earn it. Yeah, I admit...I was pretty pissed that Daniela and Brandon beat us. But at least they stepped into the ring and earned their shot. But if you think lightning’s gonna strike twice…” He flicked the cards towards the camera lens, watching as they spun through the air to land on the floor. “You’ve got another thing coming.”

He picked up the next two cards in the deck, glancing at them with a cocksure smirk before flipping them around, revealing the King and Queen of Spades. “Now this? This is Bella and I. Or it will be, soon enough. Once we put you two chumps back in your damn place at the back of the line, we’re going on to Into The Void, and come hell or high water, we are walking out with those championships held high. And once we do, my original offer still stands. If the mighty Trenton Tigers wanna be the first to step up and challenge us, then by all means. You can even invoke that dumbass Freebird rule and have any combination of you dopes show up. It won’t make a lick of difference. Once we get those Mixed Tag belts in our hands, we are going to become the gold standard for this division. And no little dopey-ass ‘freebird’ team is going to stop us. But for right now, on Sunday? The two of you become the example of what happens when you give us a second chance. We will take that chance, and we will make it count.”

He placed the cards face up onto the table, leaning over them and filling the screen with his face as he leaned towards the camera. “Heavy is the crown...but only for the weak.”