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.
Patrick Thomas O’Connell
December 14, 1962 - August 20, 2006
Beloved husband, father and friend
“Remember me with smiles and laughter,
for that is how I will remember you all.
If you can only remember me with tears,
then don’t remember me at all.”
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.
———
I know I was meant for something more
More than beaten, bloody blacked out on the floor
It took time to get it right
But I'm here and it's forever
I will never be the man I was before
It's better late than never
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.