Returning Home
Turnberry Towers
Las Vegas, Nevada
A Week Ago
The elevator doors slid open with their familiar soft chime and for the first time in nearly a month, none of them hesitated.
Miles stepped out first, a duffel bag slung over one shoulder while Carter followed with an overnight bag in one hand and Ms. Thang's carrier in the other. Kevin brought up the rear, balancing his own backpack along with an armful of things that had somehow accumulated during their stay in Olympia. Connor had gone home to Sarah earlier that morning after thanking all three of them for "the coolest vacation ever," leaving the McKinney-Kasey clan to make the final trip home together.
They walked down the hallway at an easy pace. No one was rushing, no one was dreading the destination either.
When they reached the familiar door, Miles paused just long enough to pull the keys from his pocket. The old lock was gone, in its place was a heavier deadbolt with reinforced hardware that looked like it belonged on a bank vault instead of a condominium.
Miles slipped the key into the lock and it turned smoothly.
He looked at Carter. "You wanna do the honors?"
Carter smiled. "I think you should."
Miles nodded once before pushing the door open. The first thing he noticed...was the smell.
Coffee and Vanilla.
One of Carter's candles was already burning somewhere inside the condo because, naturally, Carter had mailed one ahead with instructions for the contractor to light it before they arrived.
Miles looked over. "I cannot believe you actually did that."
"I absolutely did and it should shock absolutely no one."
Miles just shook his head, "I married a lunatic."
"You married a man with priorities."
Miles laughed as they stepped inside. It was home, not perfect...but home.
The dining table was new, it wasn’t identical to the old one, but close enough that it felt familiar instead of replacing a memory. The couch had survived after professional cleaning, though Carter had insisted on new throw pillows because, in his words, "trauma deserves decorative upgrades."
The repaired walls blended seamlessly with the originals. The new sliding glass doors overlooked the Strip exactly as they always had.
For the first time since Miles had thrown Lazarus through them, sunlight reflected across the new glass instead of broken memories.
Kevin slowly turned in a circle.
"...Wow." There wasn't another word for it. His room had been transformed. The beige paint was gone, replaced with a deep blue that Carter had somehow talked him into after weeks of looking at paint samples. The furniture had been rearranged, new shelves lined one wall.
The room still belonged to Kevin, it just looked older somehow, like he'd grown with it.
"I actually..." Kevin looked around again. "...really like this."
Carter folded his arms with unmistakable satisfaction. "I told you."
Miles leaned toward Kevin. "Don't encourage him."
"Too late. I've already started planning the guest/game room."
Miles pinched the bridge of his nose. "And there it is....The disease."
"It's called interior design."
"It's called financial ruin. At this rate, I'll be working into my fifties to pay for your decorating habit."
Kevin laughed. "I missed this."
The words came out before he even realized he'd said them. All three of them fell quiet, not because it was awkward but because it was true.
Miles walked over and rested a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "So did we."
At that moment, Carter opened Ms. Thang's carrier. The furry queen of the abode stepped out cautiously, tail held high. She stopped, looked around, sniffed once and then, with all the confidence of a queen inspecting her kingdom after an extended absence, she trotted straight into the living room, leapt effortlessly onto the back of the couch and settled into her favorite spot beside the window.
She looked out toward the balcony, then back at the three humans still standing in the entryway. The expression on her face somehow managed to say, "Well? What are you all standing around for?"
Kevin laughed first. "There she is."
Carter smiled. "I think we've officially been accepted back."
Miles looked around the condo one more time, the walls had changed and some furniture had changed. The locks had changed and so did the glass.
Even they had changed. But standing there with Carter on one side, Kevin on the other, and Ms. Thang already reclaiming the couch as though she'd never left, the condo no longer felt like the place where the worst day of their lives had happened. It felt like the place where they had chosen to begin again.
And somehow...That made all the difference.
---------------------------
Two Years Later
Friday Evening
Capri Italiano, Las Vegas
Miles adjusted the collar of the navy button-down he'd reluctantly agreed to wear while Carter smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his own shirt.
"I still think we could've ordered takeout," Miles muttered as they followed the hostess through the restaurant.
Kevin rolled his eyes. "And spend your second anniversary eating lasagna out of plastic containers?"
Miles looked over his shoulder. "...It was a very good plan."
"It was a terrible plan."
Connor laughed beside him. "I told him that too."
Carter nudged Miles with his elbow. "For once, our teenagers are making sense."
"Our teenagers?" Miles asked with a grin.
Kevin immediately pointed at Connor. "Face facts, for as much as he is around, he's your teenager too."
Connor shrugged. "I've accepted it."
Miles laughed as the hostess stopped outside a private dining room. "Right this way."
Miles frowned. "I think you've got the wrong—"
The door opened.
"Happy Anniversary!" The room erupted into applause. Miles and Carter stopped dead at the sight before them. Around the table sat LJ and Ally, Ashlynn beside them with an enormous grin. Kristjan was already standing with a glass in his hand while David and Aron applauded from the other side of the room. Connor's mother, Sarah, smiled warmly as Connor immediately wandered over to stand beside her.
Carter covered his mouth, completely caught off guard and Miles just stared.
Then he slowly turned his head toward Kevin. Kevin suddenly found the floor incredibly interesting.
Miles folded his arms. "...Just a small family dinner, huh?"
"You said you didn't want anything big."
Miles nods. "Right."
Kevin gestures around the room. "This isn't big."
Miles slowly looks around. "...You're lucky you're adorable."
Kevin finally looked up. "I mean..." He gestured around the room. "...it is."
Miles looked around once more before nodding. "You know what? I'll allow it."
Kristjan stepped forward first and pulled Miles into a hug before doing the same with Carter. "Two years," he said with a smile. "Still putting up with each other."
"Barely," Carter answered.
Miles nodded solemnly. "It's been touch and go."
"Oh, shut up," Carter laughed, bumping his shoulder.
LJ walked over next. "Happy anniversary, you two."
"Thanks," Miles replied before narrowing his eyes. "You knew?"
LJ raised both hands. "I was sworn to secrecy."
"By Kevin?"
LJ nodded. "He made us all promise that we wouldn’t say a word."
Miles slowly turned toward Kevin and Kevin smiled innocently. "...What?"
"You organized this?"
"I did."
"You also told everyone?"
Kevin shrugged. "I had to invite them somehow."
Carter burst into laughter. "So you planned us a surprise party..."
"...and invited everyone we call family." Kevin shrugged. "I figured after everything that's happened this year... you deserved one night where all the people who love you were in the same room. Bella wanted to be here along with Mal and their . She said she'd make it up to you both in Buffalo... and she told me to tell you she loves you."
The room fell quiet and Miles' smile softened. Without saying anything, he reached over and wrapped Kevin in a one-armed hug, ruffling his hair with his free hand. "Thanks, Kev."
Kevin grinned. "...You're welcome."
Carter slipped his hand into Miles' as they looked around the room. After everything, the fear, the healing, the rebuilding, the months that had tested every part of their family, they were surrounded by the people who had stood beside them through it all.
Miles gave Carter's hand a gentle squeeze. "I guess this beats takeout."
Carter smiled without taking his eyes off the room. "By just a little."
"I still think we could've gotten garlic bread delivered."
"You are impossible."
"And yet..." Miles leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "...you married me anyway."
"I did. And I'd do it again."
"So would I."
From across the room, Kristjan loudly cleared his throat. "Can the married couple stop being adorable long enough for us to eat? Some of us are starving."
Miles laughed. "There he is. The evening can officially begin now."
---------------------------
Turnberry Towers
Las Vegas, Nevada
The camera fades into the familiar view of the Las Vegas Strip beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Kasey condo. Inside, the lights are low. The city glows outside as Miles Kasey stands on the balcony, a mug of coffee resting on the railing beside him. Dressed simply in a dark t-shirt and jeans, he leans against the rail for a moment before looking out over the skyline.
He lets the silence breathe before finally speaking.
"People always expect you to have some grand speech after a championship match."
A faint smile crosses his face.
"If you win, you're supposed to tell everyone you always knew you could do it. If you lose, you're supposed to promise you'll come back stronger."
He shrugs.
"Truth is... neither of those things ever felt particularly honest."
He turns toward the camera.
"Summer XXXTreme ended with Alexander Raven and me staring at the lights together and then that damn Climax Control...we ended in a draw."
His expression doesn't change.
"That wasn't enough for me. It stung."
He reaches for the coffee, taking a slow sip before setting the mug back on the railing.
"But here's the thing...I walked away from that match disappointed...not defeated. The championship's still out there and so am I."
He folds his arms across his chest.
"And because Raven's got business elsewhere, that means I do too. This week that business happens to be Logan Hunter and Cyrus Riddle."
A slight grin appears.
"Logan...I've watched you for a while. You've got the ambition of a man 20 times your size and an ego to fit, and I'd never criticize a man for wanting more. Every one of us who's ever held a championship started exactly where you are now. But ambition has to survive reality and reality is standing across the ring from someone who's already climbed the mountain you're trying to reach."
"I know what these opportunities feel like. I know how quickly they disappear if you hesitate. I know how heavy the moment becomes when you realize this might be the match that changes your career."
He nods once.
"I've lived it. That experience doesn't guarantee me a win. But it does mean you're not walking into unknown territory...I am."
"Logan, you spend an awful lot of time trying to convince people you're the next big thing. That's fine. Every generation needs someone with confidence. The problem is you've confused confidence with credibility."
"You carry yourself like you've already arrived. Like you've already earned the right to stand at the front of the line. You haven't. It feels like you are still introducing yourself even though you have been a Roulette Champion."
"See, I've noticed something about you. Every time you open your mouth, you're talking about where you belong. Where you should be. What should've happened for you. That's the language of someone trying to convince everyone else... because they haven't quite convinced themselves yet."
"You remind me of a kid who found his dad's shoes in the closet. You put them on, you walk around the house, you puff your chest out and for a few minutes you feel ten feet tall. Then you try walking outside. Suddenly they're too big. You trip over yourself. You can't keep your balance because they were never made for you in the first place."
"That's you, Logan. You're trying to carry yourself like a main-eventer before you've learned what it costs to become one. Being loud doesn't make you important. It just makes you easier to find. You've spent so much time pretending to be a veteran that you've skipped the part where you actually become one."
"I've carried this company on my back as Champion a few different times. I've defended championships knowing every man in the locker room wanted what I had. You know what I didn't do? I didn't spend every week telling people I belonged."
"I went out there and made it impossible to argue otherwise.”
He shifts his weight against the railing.
"Then there's Cyrus Riddle."
A quiet chuckle escapes him.
"I don't think there's a single wrestler in this company who can honestly say they know what they're getting when they step into a ring with you. Some people find that frustrating. I find it interesting. It seems like you thrive on making people uncomfortable. You make them abandon the game plan before the opening bell has even rung."
"You drag them into your match instead of wrestling theirs."
He points toward the camera.
"That's exactly why you're dangerous. But here's where I think you've misjudged me. You can't make me uncomfortable. I've spent the last year learning that life has a funny way of reminding you what actually matters. I've stood in hospitals. I've stood in courtrooms. I've stood in my own home wondering if it would ever feel like home again."
"Cyrus... you frustrate me. Not because you're difficult to wrestle. Not because I think you're dangerous. Because every time I watch one of your matches, I see flashes of someone who could be an absolute nightmare for this company...and then you disappear again."
"You're talented enough that I should be talking about championships when I talk about Cyrus Riddle. Instead, I'm talking about potential. Do you know how insulting that word is? 'Potential.' It's what people say when they can see what you could become... but you've never quite decided to become it."
"You remind me of every gifted athlete I've ever met. Enough talent to beat almost anybody. Just not enough discipline to do it consistently. You know what separates good wrestlers from great ones?"
"The great ones understand that every decision they make has one purpose...winning. Sometimes I watch you and I honestly can't tell whether winning is even your first priority. Mate... you could be so much more than this."
"A Triple Threat?" A slight smile returns. "I can handle that."
He looks back toward the lights of Las Vegas.
"This isn't about redemption. It isn't about proving I still belong, I don't need to prove that. This is about taking the next step. One match. One opportunity and one more chance to keep climbing."
He turns back to the camera one final time.
"Logan... you're chasing the biggest opportunity of your career."
"Cyrus... you're looking to turn another match upside down."
"As for me..."
His smile grows just a little.
"I'm looking forward to wrestling two men who are going to make me earn it. And if I have to climb the mountain all over again..."
He picks up his coffee.
"...I've already packed the right boots."
Miles gives the camera a small nod before turning back toward the Strip, the city lights stretching out before him as the screen slowly fades to black.
