Redemption: Saboteur & ??? (c) vs. Steven Holmes & Celeste Crimson - Tag Team Titles

[Kermit]

Action Saxton, one half of the WZCW World Tag Team Champions, retired at Kingdom Come V when he & Saboteur successfully defended the titles against Rush & Sam Smith. After the match, Saxton awarded Saboteur his title belt, leaving him to be the sole owner of the titles. Not on Vance Bateman's watch though: he has decreed that Saboteur cannot defend the titles by himself and must get his tag team partne to which Saboteur swears he has for his title match.

He's going to need his tag team partner too as the former World champion Steven Holmes has been irate ever since losing the title, making it his own personal business to take out the nonsense in WZCW such as Saboteur. He and his girlfriend Celeste Crimson have been a thorn in his side for the past few weeks and have demanded to be the team to take out Saboteur & restore the titles to their former glory.

Will Saboteur & his partner be able to defend the titles or will Steven Holmes & Celeste Crimson become the newest champions, effectively making Celeste Crimson the first ever female champion in WZCW history?

Deadline is Wednesday (October 2, 2013) at 11:59 P.M. Extensions available upon request.​

 

[Kermit]

This match deadline has been extended by 24hrs via a request from Celeste's handler.

 

[FunKay the Inevitable]

The revving of an engine sets the tone for our scene. An expensive luxury car roars past, burning rubber down a highway road at night. The colour is slithering silver and the windows are blacked out. The headlights illuminate the otherwise twilight hour. It skids and screeches, it’s frenzied pattern a reflection of the man at the helm of the vehicle. As we find ourselves moving into the car, we see the face of “The Elite” Steven Holmes. He is sour faced, as per usual, but his face appears weighted more than usual. His expression more than merely grim. He is also glum. His eyes are being dragged downward by bags underneath. If he could drop those, perhaps things would look a tad more upward, but then again, perhaps not.

Woe is me. Someone once wrote that and ever since it has been credited as a weeping for one’s own failures and faults. This is a fallacy. It truly means that I feel pity for myself, which at the moment is very much the case. I haven’t slept in days, perhaps weeks, it all sort of bleeds into one another after awhile. The point is I’m so very tired.

Pulling his foot away from the accelerator of the vehicle, Holmes begins to slow down, perhaps so he can think with more clarity. Or perhaps he is finally being welcomed by sleeps warm embrace? After all he has left the home comforts of his manor behind to drive around like a pre-pubescent who steals their parents car keys.

Why am I here? Why on this highway at this time? I am less than 24 hours away from a match where not only myself, but my significant other can embrace and forever intertwine ourselves with history by becoming co-champions of the world. But then again we haven’t exactly been intertwining a great deal since I lost the singular version of that championship now have we?

His mind flashes back to an image, one of despair and disappointment. It takes place in a luxury locker-room in Dodger’s Stadium. Here Celeste sits hunches on a bench, still in her wrestling clothes, a towel filled with ice resting on the queen’s neck. Erik Holmes paces back and forth in the room, infuriated by how the evening’s turned out for his family. The echoes of a war won by the enemy can be heard from the coliseum. The television set in the room is muted, but the images remain, a confetti laden celebration taking place. Then, the door bursts open. A referee has Steven Holmes’ body hunched over him. His left eye is swollen, his body wrecked by the battle that has taken place, sweat pouring off of his bruised self. Erik stand and stares before approaching the official and taking his brother off his hands. Celeste sits still, perfectly, coldly still. And despite his brother’s best efforts to comfort him on this night, it is the image of Celeste’s non-reaction that sits fore-front in this memory.

It began on that night and it has endured ever since.

We find ourselves back in the comfort of Holmes’ automobile. There is a glowing blue light coming from the dashboard. It serves only to create an effect that accentuates Holmes’ drowsiness. He appears ghoulish and ghastly with the luminous glow casting longer and larger shadows. His eyes are wide open, bloodshot, deprived. Anger kicks in for Holmes and he slams his foot on the accelerator, forcing the engine of the car to howl and holler. He moves the steering wheel aggressively and the car spins madly.

I thought it was initially a scene of despondency having failed to live up to our own hype on the grandest stage. That was understandable as I too had felt that pain as I’m sure Erik had done also. However, when this persisted, I needed to confront my beau. And I did and I paid for it.

Again we find ourselves travelling backwards through time. Again we find ourselves in a scene from the past. This time we are in the grand living room of Holmes Manor. The extravagant fire place lays bare, empty. Holmes stands, his usual business attire ragged and worn for the day. His buttons are undone and his shirt un-tucked. His hair is beginning to stray from its usual formal presentation. There is no sound this time even has Holmes calls out to Celeste. She approaches her lord and gives him a peck on the cheek, but her passion is half-hearted and her smile is false. Holmes appears to question her, enquiring as to her nature and she grows angrier. She and Holmes go back and forth, arguing about something, and probably everything. Then she pulls something from the side and throws it at Holmes. It is a document box. As Celeste storms off, Holmes opens it up and sees the words in large, red letters “DIVORCE”.

She could not divorce me. Not because I would stop her or anything along those lines, but because she and I were not married. In fact she was still married to Laxus and that was the point where it dawned upon me. She was undergoing an extreme amount of stress and a wave of emotions that I had felt prior. I recalled my own divorce and I felt sorrow once more. That night I cradled my love and I nurtured her.

A sick smile crosses the warped face of Steven Holmes. He revs the car once again, flying down the tarmac and then he recalls what follows. He snaps on the breaks and a high pitched scream comes from the tires. They grate and grind across the grey of the road, leaving a signal of their pain and misery with skid marks. He has stopped in the middle of a deserted highway. There is no sight but the same one over and over again; fields and fields on nothingness absorbed by the night’s darkness. The only sound is the remnants of the screeching. His face has dropped off the edge of a cliff. His mind sets a new scene. One we are already familiar with.

Then the problems began in the ring.

Holmes lies on his back, looking at the ceiling as Saboteur hooks his leg. His body begs him to kick-out of the pinfall attempt, but his mind is weary, deflated, burnt. It is only after the referee counts that he snaps out of his funk and tries to shove his nemesis off. Unfortunately it is too late and the match is over.

We flash-forward in this scene to Holmes and Celeste’s post-match beatdown of the sole Tag Team Champion and Holmes while into the beating can’t help but notice his lady’s expression. Yet again she seems out of it, not fully giving herself to the cause. Her body is present but her mind lies elsewhere.

Again we cut, this time to Barbosa being held back by Celeste Crimson with Holmes preparing to assault the bi-polar superstar. He makes eye contact and again there is no will from Celeste, only a robotic repetition. Then, David Cougar’s music causes the distraction. One final time we flash to a set of shows. This time it is to the passionate kiss the duo of Celeste & Holmes shared over Saboteur’s corpse at Ascension 69. Whilst the other flashbacks have been dim and lifeless, this one is vibrant full of colour.

That was the first time we had shared a moment of passion in a long, long time. That was the first time we had embraced and danced with the spotlight on us. It was also the last time we made love. We did it in the heat of the moment and we did it to celebrate our future victory over Saboteur. But now, I grow uncertain of the future direction of our relationship. The trips to Mexico, the divorce proceedings and now, yet again, like before Kingdom Come, insomnia sits in my mind, digging itself, burrowing right into the centre of my psyche. It has all culminated on the eve of war and before I collide with the monstrously popular Saboteur. But one has to ask the question; why is Saboteur just so popular?

As Holmes probes with the question, he returns to his own world and stops by the side of the road to wait and wonder. He must analyse this carefully. Perhaps the key to his victory is here and now.

We know not if he is handsome. We aren’t privileged to information about his past. He has engaged in underhanded and deceptive tactics multiple times. Goodness, his name even indicates deception as his trade. And yet the roar of the crowd enthrals and overcomes most others when he steps out of the curtain and onto centre stage. It’s clear the populist masses are enamoured with the buffoon and perhaps that is the key to this; he is a buffoon. Everyone loves a comic that they can laugh at and with his low brand of humour and clear mental inadequacies I shouldn’t at all be surprised that small minded fools and uneducated hordes find his brand of entertainment to be a riot.

At the same time however, I would hope the privileged and the scholars of this world would welcome my appearance and victory as one of great importance to steering WZCW back toward a more direct path and yet, I fear that they too have been converted and coerced into buying Saboteur as a brand. They all chuckle with delight when Saboteur voices his thoughts on Whoopi Goldberg, a black actress who has dipped her toes into both comedy and drama. I’ve attempted several times to get Ms. Goldberg on the phone, via the internet, hell, even sent her a lovely fruit basket and still there is no response. Is this collusion? Have they been working against me all this time? Is Whoopi Goldberg the mystery partner that Saboteur speaks of? Good grief, maybe I do need some sleep.

Chuckling at his own brand of humour, Holmes closes his eyes for a second, and then for a minute until eventually he has embraced darkness. It only feels like it lasts for a moment, but as Holmes begins to awake and banish the sandman he sees that there is light on the horizon...he has fallen asleep at the wheel.

Bollocks.

He turns the key for the engine and it awakes too from its slumber.

I need to return to my abode. It is mere hours before myself and Celeste venture into the unknown and we are still at odds ourselves.

Another flashback appears as Holmes drives off, this one preparing to set the stage of the start of this story. Celeste is putting up a banner which reads “WELCOME HOME”. Erik appears concerned, sat in an armchair. A fire roars in the background. The scene in homely to say the least. Then, the door to the room open and there stands Steven Holmes, bags around the eyes and all. Celeste cracks a decent smile, something has caused a turn in her attitude. She dashes over to Steven and pecks him on the cheek. Erik turns to face his brother and they exchange a knowing glance. We are not treated to sound, but we can see Celeste asking her lover “What’s Wrong?” He launches into a tirade which we do not understand and a war of words erupts. It does not last long as Erik and ourselves sit back and watch the domestic disaster unfold. Then, Steven turns and leaves and we are back where we began...

 

[JGlass]

The scene is set on a ridge overlooking a country estate. The property in view is probably three, maybe four acres large, and features a large cabin-style home that covers most of the property. You can barely make out the stables in the cloudy night sky, but the sounds of the horses can be heard for miles with no city sounds to drown them out. In fact, the nearest highway is a ten-mile drive away. This is the type of property someone bought hoping to be alone with their thoughts. But tonight, they won’t be alone.

A man in a black ski mask stands on the ridge, surveying the property through a pair of binoculars.

???: I can’t see a dang thing in this mask!

The man pulls his ski mask off, revealing yet another mask underneath.

Saboteur: Much better! Now let’s find a point of entry so I can finally end this!

Saboteur’s binoculars find a small wooden fence that he can easily hop. From there, he sees some high hedges that he should be able to take cover behind to avoid being spotted by the property’s owner. Once his view gets close to the house, he sees a first story window that is just barely cracked open: the entry point he’s looking for.

Saboteur: You thought I wouldn’t be able to find your impenetrable Vermont fortress when you first waged war on me, but I’m here now, and within a few moments I will be lurking in your halls, waiting to plant a bullet in your brain.

Saboteur takes his binoculars off and leans down to open a nearby duffle bag. There is only one thing in the bag: a military-grade assault rifle with an extended magazine and a suppressor attached at the end of the barrel.

Saboteur: You decided to mess with the wrong professional wrestler, Whoopi.

Saboteur Vol. 12 Ep. 4: The Assault on Goldberg Manor

There’s an implied time jump as Saboteur is now peering through the window he has marked as an entry point. The room on the inside of the window appears to be a family room with a few leather couches, a glass coffee table covered in thick books, and a few pieces of pottery placed on pedestals in various places around the room. There’s no sign of anyone occupying the room, and the house seems to be completely silent.

Saboteur: I must have caught her after her bedtime. Looks like the coast is clear.

Saboteur pushes the window open and climbs inside. He slides silently through the opening and plants his feet softly on the floor, taking great care to make sure he doesn’t drop the deadly weapon he’s carrying. Saboteur starts to slowly pace, one small step at a time, each one calculatedly soft so as not to awake his targets slumber. Each step he takes makes a very soft pat on the wood floor.

Pat.

Pat.

Pat.

Pat.

…

Saboteur’s foot lands on something soft, and before realizes what’s happening, he finds himself falling backwards.

THUD!

Saboteur lands hard on his rear causing the ground to shake, and one of the pots adorning the family room starts to wobble. Saboteur rolls over and lunges towards the pot and catches it with one hand as it falls, but in doing so he knocks over the pedestal it was resting on. Unable to let go of his assault rifle, Saboteur bobbles the pot in his arms as he tries to use his now free hand to catch the pedestal, but he misses. Fortunately, he gets his leg out in the nick of time and his foot catches the pedestal right before it hits the ground. Unfortunately, Saboteur has to pull his foot back as he continues to bobble the pot. The pedestal falls a few short inches to the floor and silently lands, but Saboteur trips backwards as he tries to catch the pot. Saboteur gets a firm grasp on the pot as he falls… right onto the glass table.

Saboteur breaths a sigh of deep relief as, against all odds, the glass coffee table holds his weight. He gently places the pot on the table and rolls to the floor. He brushes himself off as he gets to hiss feet.

Saboteur: Whew! That was a close one.


It is precisely at that moment that a blaring alarm goes off. A red light blinks on and off as the siren wails. Saboteur is paralyzed in fear as the alarm goes off, but the spell is broken when he hears the sound of shotgun being pumped.

???: DIE YOU MOTHER FUCKIN’, COCK SUCKIN’ CROSS DESSIN’ SON OF A BIIIIIIITCH!

Saboteur dives behind the couch as Whoopi Goldberg unloads a buck shot into her family room, narrowly missing Saboteur and taking out a window instead.

Saboteur: This is clearly a man’s spandex outfit, thank you!

Saboteur returns blind fire from behind the couch, but Whoopi Goldberg has the wherewithal to duck behind a divider separating the family room from the kitchen. Whoopi returns some blind fire of her own, blowing up the very pot that Saboteur saved from crashing to the floor.

Saboteur: Stupid Whoopi Goldberg, destroying my hard work.

Whoopi Goldberg pops up and fires off a few more shotgun shells. One hits the couch Saboteur is hiding behind, one hits the wall behind the couch, and the last knocks down a horse painting hanging on the wall.

Whoopi: Goddammit, my favorite horse painted that!

Whoopi tosses her shotgun to the side and takes off running. Saboteur hears the gun hit the ground and emerges from cover to fire at Whoopi, but he only gets a few shots off before Whoopi disappears deeper into the house. Saboteur jumps over the couch and gives chase to the woman that has been haunting him for the past month. Saboteur occasionally sees glimpses of Whoopi Goldberg’s dreadlocks and fires at them, but each time he misses and his target continues to flee. The chase continues all around the house, with Saboteur’s bullets finding walls, windows, artwork, and on one occasion a taxidermized three-toe-sloth, but never Whoopi Goldberg.

Whoopi Goldberg ducks down a larger hallway and explodes through a very large, heavy wooden door. She closes it behind her, and Saboteur crashes into it a few seconds later. He throws his weight at it a few times and eventually it explodes open. Saboteur unleashes a few more rounds as the door opens until the gun goes click. He’s out of ammo. Saboteur throws his rifle to the ground in frustration, and as he looks up he comes to a startling realization.

Saboteur: Sweet mother of Manzo.

Saboteur takes a step forward and looks around at the hundreds of wax statues of Whoopi Goldberg that surround him. Saboteur’s spine grows rigid and his fists clench as he angrily calls to his foe.

Saboteur: You think this is it, Whoopi? You think this is going to stop me? Well I have some news for you Sister Act, I came here for a mission, and I’m not going to leave until I’ve completed it. I am not leaving this house until I’ve killed you.

Saboteur reaches his hands behind his back and unsheathes his katanas. With a primal scream, Saboteur charges into the hall of Whoopi Goldberg wax statues and begins to behead them. With a sword in each hand, he makes quick work of the figures in efficient manner, running down the rows with his katanas extended out like airplane wings of death. With each stride he takes, Saboteur slices off another wax Whoopi head. After thirty seconds of frenzied swordsman ship, Saboteur finds himself in the middle of just over a hundred headless Whoopi Goldberg wax figures, and ankle deep in Whoopi Goldberg wax heads. None of them are the real Whoopi Goldberg’s head.

Saboteur: Where are you!? Show yourself you evil witch!

Saboteur feels a cold feeling creeping up his spine and he turns around…

Whoopi: Got ya, bitch.

But it’s too late. Whoopi Goldberg pulls a trigger and two prongs shoot at Saboteur’s chest and attach themselves, sending 500,000 volts through our hero’s body. He drops to the floor, unconscious, and we fade to black.

--------------------​

A bright light shines directly into Saboteur’s face as he slowly comes too. The only thing he can make out in the room is a bushy haired figure standing in front of him.

Saboteur: Where… where am I? Did I fall into a pool or something?

Whoopi: No, you peed yourself. That type of thing generally happens when being tasered.

Saboteur: You tased me, bro?! Not cool!

Whoopi: Oh, and you breaking into my house and opening fire on me is cool? Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call the cops and have you locked the hell up.

Saboteur: Oh puh-lease, Whoopi, we all know that you’ve been aiming to kill me for months now, so just finish me here. And make it fast will ya? There are few things I hate more than a long, drawn-out death scene.

Whoopi: Kill you? What the hell are you talking about? I don’t even know who you are!

Saboteur: Don’t play dumb with me sister, I’ve figured you out! I know that you poisoned Master Chop Onion!

Whoopi: Master who?

Saboteur: Master Chop Onion! Saxton’s mentor and kung-fu master! You knew that he would name Action Saxton as his replacement, and you knew that the best way to get to me was to have Action Saxton as far away from me as possible.

Whoopi: Action Saxton? You mean the only person to have won more Blackademy Awards than me?

Saboteur: The very same! With Saxton out of the picture, you were hired by Vance Bateman and Steven Holmes to take me out so that they can move the tag titles off of me and onto Holmes and Crimson. And now you got me here, dead to rights. Finish the job like the proud black comedian you are and let me go out with some dignity!

Whoopi: Sweetie, I don’t fully understand about half the things you just said, but I can assure you this: whatever dignity you had in the past has been gone for a long time.

Saboteur sighs and looks down at his bound feet.

Saboteur: I didn’t think it would end like this: at the hands of a mediocre standup that has made a few slightly above average films.

Whoopi: Fool, I’m not gonna kill you. You are messed up in the head, you know that?

Saboteur’s head perks up.

Saboteur: You aren’t?

Whoopi: Hell no. For one thing, I have no idea who you are. But more importantly: I make millions of dollars a year for telling jokes and putting bitches in their place on national television. Life is too good to throw it away murdering some nutjob that broke into my house.

Saboteur: So… you’ll let me go then?

Whoopi: Hell no! I’m calling the police and having your ass thrown in jail!

Saboteur: Wait! Don’t do that! I have a match to fight in on Sunday!

Whoopi: A match? What the hell are you talking about?

Saboteur: A wrestling match! I am the greatest wrestler in the world and I will be defending my tag team titles against Steven Holmes and Celeste Crimson, but I’ll be doing it without my trusty partner, Action Saxton. But if you’re not the reason Action Saxton got sent to China, I don’t know what is. Maybe it’s Jane Lynch: I’ve never trusted those Glee kids…

Whoopi: Hold on Saboteur: you keep on coming up with these crazy conspiracy theories for why you and Action Saxton aren’t tag team partners any more. Do you know who comes up with conspiracy theories?

Saboteur: Really good looking, extraordinarily talented professional wrestlers?

Whoopi: People unable to accept that we live in a world dominated by chaos and unpredictability. Sometimes bad things happen for no reason, and we have to accept that, and you have to let go to the old days of Saxton and Saboteur.

Saboteur: You’re one to talk. You couldn’t let go of that orangutan in Eddie!

Whoopi: Please, I shot that annoying monkey the second we wrapped shooting. I even mounted his head on my wall, see?

Whoopi Goldberg motions with her head to a mounted ape head on her wall.

Saboteur: Dang! You are one stone cold lady!

Whoopi: You’re damn right, and you need to be too!

Saboteur: So what you’re saying is… I need to get a sex change and kill Action Saxton?

Whoopi: No! Jeeze, you really are a dumbass aren’t you? No, what you need to do is accept the past and focus on the future! Saxton may be gone, but you’re still here, and you’re still tag team champion!

Saboteur: Yeah, just like you after you broke up with Patrick Stewart! Did you wallow in self-pity for having lost the love of one of the greatest English actors of our time? No! You went out and booked yourself Sister Act 2!

Whoopi: Exactly!

Saboteur: And then when your third husband left you, you went out and starred in Bogus! Sure, it was a financial and critical disaster, but you gave one of the best performances of your career!

Whoopi: Okay, you've made your point.

Saboteur: And then after you gave up on finding love because you’re so old and undesirable, you went and got booked as a host on The View!

Whoopi: Alright already! Jesus! The point is, you can’t go around trying to fix the past, but you can control your future.

Saboteur: And that’s why I’m going to stop trying to kill you and start trying to kill Steven Holmes and Celeste Crimson!

Whoopi: Maybe just focus on beating them in your match at Redemption and leave the killing for later.

Saboteur: Well if you… wait, does that mean…?

Whoopi: Yeah, against my better judgment, I’m gonna let you go. But if you EVER step foot on my ranch again, I’m gonna shoot you right between those two soulless dots you call eyes.

Whoopi whips out a switchblade and cuts the ropes that held Saboteur to the chair. Saboteur pops out of the seat and shakes some life back into his limbs before grabbing Whoopi’s hand and shaking it.

Saboteur: Thanks for helping me out Whoopi, and sorry for trying to kill you. Is there anything I can do to repay you?

Whoopi: Yeah, you can give me a check for all the damages you did to my house.

Saboteur: Sure, let me just grab my wallet and… hey, is that a Klingon?!

Whoopi turns around to look, but by the time she realizes what’s going on, Saboteur is bursting out the doors of Goldberg Manor. As he runs back towards the highway, Saboteur recounts the important lesson he learned today.

Saboteur: I need to get a bunch of wax figures made of myself.

No, not that one.

Saboteur: And I need to get past the days of Saxton and Saboteur. No more trying to recreate the past. While my days with Action Saxton were truly legendary, I’m going to have a new partner at Redemption. Together he and I will continue to make history, and it all starts with retaining the tag titles against Holmes and Crimson.

Saboteur get back to the highway and hops into his getaway vehicle, driving into the night; driving into a new chapter in the life of Saboteur.

 

[Bernkastel]

Silence; what a miserable experience following the storm of anger that ripped through the house and swept everyone up in its wake. And what provoked it, a misconception perhaps… jealously even, but in its purest form. He had been acting childish, and that’s all I had to say. Sure, I could see the signs, but in my defense I had been under too much stress to pay attention. The pain of his face told the whole story, “Who are we to doubt ourselves in our hour of glory?” Those words lingered in my ears, growing in intensity like a siren until I couldn’t bear it. Only a month ago we had been on top of the world; the godheads looking down on everyone else. Not because we were better, but because we were chosen, destined for that pedestal. I was thrown off first, and then I glanced at the peak as Steven quickly followed.

Maybe it was for the best that I didn’t follow my ambition; the prospect of a lifetime and the chance for a destined rematch; those were mine to pass. And why? The answer was as bleak as the dark clouds covering the sky. Stress. And even though I had not yet succumbed to fatigue, I knew now that Steven was already past his. And the last straw? My divorce from the man that betrayed me, crushed my heart, and took the one thing that I held most precious in the world away from me. Steven was a close second, he had to have known, so where’d this jealously come from.

And that’s when I released that it wasn’t jealously. It was fear. Something I’d never thought I’d see from the Englishman, because out of everything that he had accomplished coupled with everything that I had accomplished, what was left to fear? The answer was simple… ourselves. So rudimentary a concept that neither of us had even stopped to think about it, at least I hadn’t. I was nothing more than a leaf being tossed around by the wind, and I really didn’t mind the feeling, because looked where I landed. Another shot at greatness, and this time Steven and I had the opportunity to reach the heights we once held. The prize didn’t matter as long as we were together, that’s what we agreed upon. No title was ever going to rip us apart, and now we had the opportunity to share that glory with each other.

I found myself starring into his eyes; the doubt and haze held a mountain of emotions that seemed too steep to even see the summit. And the avalanche of negativity crashed into me as he unleashed his tirade, venting his pain in the form of fury. The loneliness, the sudden lack of intimacy, and the fact that we as a unit had gotten our asses kicked time and time again?

‘After all this time do you still take me for a fool, Steven?’

I wasn’t going to argue with him, and I didn’t even feel like fighting. I understood his feelings, but I didn’t share them and that made him angrier. Didn’t he understand that I was now his and no one else’s? Did he not understand that there can be pride in defeat as long as the heart didn’t falter? Did he not understand that just because we fear something that doesn’t make it a bad thing?

‘I see through your tirade Steven. There’s nothing that you can hide from me, because I feel the same way you do.’

The look of shock on his face said it all. He was calming down and coming back to reality. We were in the same boat here. Saboteur had taken us both out, so the fear of failure was legitimate, but ultimately it didn’t mean anything. What was important is that we kept our pride and kept moving forward. After all we had made it this far?
Redemption, what a fitting name for the pay per view…

And Saboteur had proven that he wasn’t scared of either of us, and that it was our job to rise to the challenge and defeat him at his own game. Perhaps Steven had been a fool to back Saboteur into a corner like he did, but look at the outcome; there was a wildcard that could potentially play in our favor.

‘It means that Saboteur could be living in the past still, and even though he’s beaten us both, that could cause his ego to swell to the point where he can’t function with his new partner. There’s no one else in the world that can replace Action Saxton for him, so it doesn’t matter whom he chooses, that person will have to work twice as hard. Not only will they have to strive to put up with Saboteur, but they’ll have the ultimate displeasure of facing both of us. And that’s our advantage.’

Too much stress was never a good thing, and Steven and I had both been under so much that I saw his composure crack. The only thing that kept me going was that I knew how to handle life’s disappointments. And when Steven decided to be with me, he had to learn to accept life’s disappointments as well, and I could tell he was struggling with it. I did my best to comfort him, to assure him that his fear didn’t need to be self destructive. That it was merely a tool to help better his abilities.

“Have resolve Steven. Promise me now that no matter what happens at Redemption that you and I will still pledge to move forward, together. Basking in the happiness of our successes means also dealing with the struggles of failure and disappointment.”

I’m not sure if my words reached him or not, but I could see his anger subside. Erik, who had been in the corner watching the whole time, simply snickered, but nodded in agreement, he got up from his seat and left, leaving Steven and I alone.

“All this time I thought you were the one who was distant and now I feel like a fool,” he said.

It was true, I was being distant, but not because I didn’t believe in him nor myself. I was distant because for once, despite all the stress and the disappointments of the struggle of finding success in this crazy world, I was relieved. Relieved because I could finally commit myself to the man that had truly stolen my heart, and unlike Laxus wasn’t going to just stomp on it and throw it away.

“Happiness is such a frail commodity. It can be obtained just as easily as it can be lost. The way I’ve been feeling; I won’t apologize for having my pride and not admitting fear, but I will apologize for losing my temper and aiming my anger towards you. You’re right; Redemption means far more to you and I than just a pay per view. It’s a metaphor for our lives, and evidence of the fact that we are destined to succeed. The kingdom that we lost let us find it again.”

As for our opponent? I knew the man well enough that despite his ambitions he too had his pride. We would not, and could not move forward until he hit a roadblock that forced him to chance direction, and we needed to be that roadblock. Then Steven and I could rebuild the kingdom that we lost. I still remember the garden in the rear of the manor. The mound in the center where we dug our own graves, I wanted to rip those up and place something new there. Maybe we could take our pasts and bury them there instead. Then we could establish this new Eden to be something eternal, unshakable, and indestructible. There was no doubting the love we held for each other to be pure, but our resolve need not falter in order to be successful.

“Then take my hand, Steven. Take it as a sign that no matter what happens we’ll resolve to find redemption, if not through success, then through love.”

We shared one last kiss, and the passion of our flame was restored in an instant. Any fear, anger, regrets, ambition, or remorse we harbored we’d shoulder and bear together. All we had to do was reach, out and take the prize, and unlike Saboteur and his mystery partner, we were united. And when united there wasn’t a force on this earth that could stop us.