~*~Where It All Began Again~*~
London, England
London carried its history differently than New York. New York always moved fast, loud, unapologetic in its urgency. Despite the fact that it was the busiest city in the United Kingdom, London lingered. It breathed in stone and stories, in quiet streets that had seen centuries pass without needing to announce it. Even the air felt older, like it held memories in it if you stood still long enough to notice.
Bella noticed, she always had. The car rolled to a stop outside the hotel, headlights cutting briefly through the soft evening haze. The city glowed around them, warm lights, distant traffic, the hum of life that never really shut off, just softened. Inside, in the back seat, Máire was mid-laugh, her tiny hands wrapped around Aileen O’Connell’s scarf like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.
“Careful now,” Aileen said, laughing as she gently untangled the little fingers, "That’s not for pulling, mo stór.”
Máire giggled anyway, and Bella watched the interaction with a soft smile, leaning slightly into Mal’s side.
“She’s not going to want to come back with us,” Bella murmured.
Mal snorted quietly, "She barely wants to come back with us now.”
“Hey,” Bella nudged him lightly.
“I’m just saying,” he added, glancing toward his mother, "We’ve been replaced.”
Aileen looked up at that, eyes sharp despite the warmth, "Oh don’t be ridiculous. You were replaced the second she figured out I spoil her more.”
“That sounds accurate,” Bella said.
Máire perked up at the word “spoil,” even if she didn’t fully understand it, pointing dramatically at Aileen like she was confirming the statement, "Yes,” Aileen nodded solemnly, "I do.”
Bella laughed softly. God, she needed this. Not just the noise and not the travel. This. With her family...well Mal’s family. It was normal, even if their version of normal was stitched together between cities and flights and matches. The car door opened, cool London air slipping in as Mal stepped out first, then turned and offered Bella his hand. She took it easily, stepping out onto the pavement, the city stretching out around them. Aileen followed with Máire already settled comfortably on her hip.
“I mean it,” Aileen said, looking between them, "Go. Both of you. Take the night. You’ve earned it.”
Bella hesitated just a fraction, "You sure?”
Aileen raised a brow, "Bella, I raised him.” She jerked her head toward Mal, "I can handle one toddler.”
Mal scoffed, "Barely.”
“Out,” Aileen said immediately, pointing away from the car like she was dismissing them both.
Máire clapped like this was the best development of her young life, "Go!” she echoed, clearly on her grandmother’s side.
Bella laughed, shaking her head, "Wow. Betrayed.”
“Completely,” Mal agreed.
Aileen waved them off, "We’ll be fine. She’s staying with me tonight. We’ve got plans.”
Bella narrowed her eyes slightly, "What kind of plans?”
Aileen smiled, that alone was suspicious enough, “The kind that don’t involve you worrying.”
That answered nothing, which meant Bella had no choice but to trust her. She stepped forward, pressing a kiss to Máire’s cheek, "Be good.”
“Yeah,” Máire said.
Bella paused, "That was too fast.”
“She’s lying,” Mal muttered.
“Go,” Aileen repeated, already turning toward the building with Máire happily babbling about something only she understood.
And just like that, they were alone. For a moment, Bella and Mal just stood there, no diaper bag, no tiny voice demanding snacks. No immediate responsibility pulling at them.
Bella blinked once, "This feels illegal.”
Mal chuckled, "It’s been a while.”
“Too long.”
He glanced at her, something quiet and fond in his expression, "Come on.”
The hotel lobby was exactly what Bella remembered and that realization hit her about three steps in.
She slowed and Mal noticed immediately.
“Something wrong?” he asked, casual, but not really.
Bella looked around, eyes tracing details she hadn’t realized she still held onto. The lighting. The layout. The soft hum of conversation. Then her eyes landed on him, slowly, "...Mal.”
He said nothing, didn’t confirm it, didn’t deny it. Just watched her figure it out.
Her lips parted slightly.
“No way.” That small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, "You didn’t.”
“I might have.”
Bella turned in a slow circle, disbelief mixing with something softer, "You booked the same hotel?”
“Maybe.”
She looked back at him, eyes narrowing now, "Malachi Noah....”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, "Okay, okay, yes.”
Bella let out a breath that turned into a laugh, shaking her head as she stepped closer, "You are ridiculous.”
“And yet,” he said easily, “you married me.”
“That was a questionable judgment.”
“Five plus years says otherwise.”
She bumped into him lightly, but there was no bite to it. Just warmth and memory as the room door opened and it hit her all over again. They hadn’t changed a damn thing in the room, it was the same layout. With the same view and the same quiet that she longed for the first time she was here during her final year of college.
Bella stepped inside slowly, like she was walking into a version of herself she hadn’t seen in years, "You kept the same room?” she asked softly.
Mal leaned against the doorframe, "I remembered the number.”
Bella let out a quiet breath, setting her bag down without taking her eyes off the space.
The last time she was here, she was attending school in Paris but this area was a visit with her classmates for a project, the version that was here 7 years ago was a version of her that didn’t know what her life would become. A version of them that didn’t know how far they’d go.
She turned back to him, "Okay,” she said, softer now, "That’s... kind of perfect.”
Mal shrugged, but the look in his eyes gave him away, "Figured it might be.”
Bella crossed the room and kissed him. It wasn’t rushed or distracted. Just present.
Later
The city blurred into a quiet memory of laughter, food, and stolen time. There were no expectations or pressure. Just them and when they returned to the room, the world outside stayed there. Where it belonged.
The lights were off now, and the city glowed faintly through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. Bella lay beside Mal, her head resting against his chest, her fingers tracing absent patterns along his arm. For a while, neither of them spoke and they didn’t need to.
But eventually, Bella exhaled slowly, "I went to see my grandfather.”
Mal’s hand stilled slightly against her back, "Yeah?” he asked quietly.
“A couple weeks ago.”
He nodded once, "How is he?”
“The same,” she said softly, "Which is comforting and also terrifying.”
Mal huffed a quiet laugh, "Sounds about right.”
Bella shifted slightly, propping herself up just enough to look at him, even in the dark, "He knew,” she said.
Mal raised a brow, "Of course he did.”
“I didn’t even have to say anything,” she continued, "He just looked at me and knew I wasn’t sure if I was coming back.”
Mal’s expression softened, "And?” he asked.
Bella hesitated, not because she didn’t have the words, because they mattered, "He didn’t tell me to go back,” she said.
Mal blinked once, "No?”
She shook her head, "No. He told me that wasn’t the question.”
Mal studied her now, "What was?”
Bella exhaled slowly, "Why I would.”
Silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t heavy, it was honest.
Bella looked down briefly before continuing, "I didn’t have an answer right away,” she admitted, "And that scared me more than anything.”
Mal’s hand moved gently along her back, grounding, steady, "But then...” she continued, “I started realizing it wasn’t about proving anything anymore.”
She met his eyes, "I missed it. I missed the fight,” she said, "Not the chaos. Not the pressure. The... clarity. The moment where everything else disappears and it’s just you and the decision you make.”
Mal nodded slowly, "That sounds like you.”
Bella let out a small breath, "My first match back, it felt right.” A faint smile touched her lips, "Not easy. Not perfect. But right.”
She shifted slightly closer to him, "And now I’ve got the Queen for a Day qualifier coming up.”
Mal’s fingers stilled again, listening.
“If I win...” she continued, “we will go to Japan.” She said it like it was both exciting and heavy, "Bigger stage. Bigger stakes. Bigger everything. And that’s a little terrifying.”
Mal didn’t respond right away. He just watched her and let her say it.
“I don’t want to lose myself in it,” Bella admitted, "I don’t want to chase something so hard that I forget why I started again in the first place.” Her eyes searched his, "And I really need you and her there through all of it.”
That landed, not because it was uncertain but because it mattered.
Mal reached up, brushing a strand of hair back from her face.
“Bella,” he said quietly, “when have we ever not been?”
She didn’t answer, because she couldn’t.
“We’ve been there when it was messy,” he continued, "When it was uncertain. When it didn’t make sense to anyone else but you.”
His thumb traced lightly along her cheek, "And we’re not going anywhere now that it does.”
Bella’s breath caught just slightly.
“Máire thinks you hung the moon,” he added, a faint smile pulling at his lips, "You could lose every match from here to the end of time and she’d still think you’re the greatest thing she’s ever seen.”
Bella huffed a quiet laugh, "She also thinks applesauce is a major food group.”
“Exactly,” Mal said, "Her judgment is flawless.”
Bella shook her head, but her expression softened completely.
“And me?” he added as she looked at him again, "I don’t care where this goes,” he said simply, "I care that it’s you choosing it.”
Bella leaned back into him, resting her head against his chest again, "I am,” she said quietly, "This time I am.”
Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, "Then we’re with you,” he said.
There was no hesitation and no doubt.
Just fact.
Outside, London moved on. Inside that room, everything Bella needed was right there. And for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t chasing something she almost had.
She was stepping into something she had finally chosen and that made all the difference.
~*~Chosen Violence: No More Almost~*~
Alton Towers
Staffordshire, England
Late Afternoon
The park was quieter than it would be on show night but it wasn’t empty but not alive yet either. It was still early in the season and the weather was weird. That strange in-between space where everything felt like it was waiting.
Rides stood still against the gray English sky, their towering frames cutting into the clouds like unfinished thoughts. The wind moved through the trees in soft, restless bursts, carrying the distant creak of metal and the occasional echo of something mechanical shifting into place.
Bella Madison stood near one of the pathways, far enough away from the noise that it didn’t matter. She was wearing street clothes, black jeans, boots and a dark jacket zipped halfway up. Her hands rested loosely in her pockets, shoulders relaxed—but there was nothing casual about the way she held herself. There was a stillness to her now. The kind that didn’t come from uncertainty anymore.
It came from knowing exactly what needed to happen next.
She looked toward the camera, there was no smirk or posturing.
Just focus.
“Queen for a Day qualifier. No gimmicks. No chaos. No distractions. Just one match that decides who moves forward and who doesn’t. That’s my kind of fight.”
Bella shifted her weight slightly, glancing off for a moment toward the towering ride behind her before bringing her eyes back.
“I just came back from taking time off,” she continued, "Not because I was hurt beyond repair, not because I needed to disappear...”
Her jaw tightened just slightly.
“Because I needed to figure out why I was still doing this. I got my answer. I missed it. And now I’m standing here with a shot to go to Osaka to step into something bigger than anything I’ve touched yet...”
Her head tilted slightly.
“And I’m not wasting that.”
She shifted again, pulling one hand from her pocket, flexing her fingers once like she was grounding herself.
“Zenna Zdunich.”
There was no venom or hatred in her tone, but simply just acknowledgment.
“You haven’t had the best run. Blunt, I know but let’s not pretend that it doesn't matter.”
Her eyes sharpened slightly.
“I’ve watched your matches. I’ve seen you step in there and get knocked down. I’ve seen you try to fight through it and I’ve seen it not be enough.”
A small step forward, it wasn’t aggressive but intentional.
“And I’m not saying that to embarrass you. I’m saying it because this isn’t the match where that suddenly changes. You’re walking into a situation where you have to be perfect.”
She gave a slight shake of her head.
“And I don’t think you’ve figured out how to be that yet.”
The wind picked up slightly, brushing her hair back as she continued.
“I know what it feels like to be close,” Bella said, "To almost have something, to almost break through, to almost prove you belong. I lived there. I don’t anymore.”
Bella took another step forward, closing just a little more space with the camera, “This match isn’t about respect. I don’t need to disrespect you to beat you. I don’t need to hate you. I don’t need to make this personal. But I’m not going to slow down so you can catch up either. You’re coming into this hoping something clicks.”
A slight tilt of her head.
“I’m walking into this knowing it already has.”
Silence stretched for a moment. Then....
“If you want that spot in Osaka, you’re going to have to take it from someone who already decided she’s not losing it.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, not a smile, not quite, it was something sharper, "And right now? That’s me.”
Bella let that sit. She just held the camera’s gaze for one final second, then turned, walking down the path, away from the frame, boots echoing softly against the pavement.
No rush.
No hesitation.
Just direction.
Her direction.
