Matt towelled off his face and hair as he stepped out of his locker room and looked up and down the corridor. Ordinarily, he'd find a monitor and watch the rest of the show but tonight he didn't feel much like it and had had a shower right away. The truth was that most of the matches left on the card after his didn't interest him that much. Whatever happened between Dante and Freya and Darkness and Indigo probably wouldn't change his life that much. He was used to the way things worked now.

He slung his damp towel over his shoulder and made sure he had definitely put his pants on before talking a walk down the hall to see if he could find anyone to shoot the breeze with. As if on cue, a door opened.

"Hey, Bucky."

"What's up, Cap'?" Strikmore gave Hawthorne a slap on the shoulder. They'd parted ways at the gorilla position and Matt was glad to bump into him again. Hawthorne looked as exhausted as he did, but relatively happy. "No hard feelings, I hope?"

Hawthorne shook his head. "Not at all. Would have been nice to get my name on that belt, but the better man won."

"Not the better man – just the one who happened to win this time. I'm gonna do everything I can to give you another shot some time."

"I appreciate that."

Matt continued up the corridor with Hawthorne falling into step. "So who's on right now?"

"Commercial break, but Dante just wrestled Freya."

"Did your girl win?"

"She's not my girl," Hawthorne said guardedly.

"No, I didn't mean like that." Matt put him at ease with a smirk. "I just mean...you know...like 'your team', but she isn't a team, she's a girl. Anyway, did she win?"

"No."

Matt whistled through his teeth. "So we got a new Bleeder Champion?"

Hawthorne shook his head. "No, she didn't bleed."

"I've never really understood the rules for that belt. Glad to hear it worked out for them though. Everyone goes home happy."

"I suppose."

They'd reached an open lobby area where a few monitors and a buffet table were set up. Various members of the production crew were lazing around in fold-up chairs watching the show. "Something bothering you, Cap'?" Matt asked as they drew up near the food.

"No, not really. Well...maybe I'm just a little deflated. I'm not sure where I go after this."

"Go? You leaving or something?"

"What? No, I mean, professionally. With my career. You know."

Matt nodded. "Right. It's always that way when you don't win the big match."

"How would you know?"

"Hey, you think this is the first promotion I ever wrestled in? I had my share of disappointments earlier in my career. Everything builds up to that one match and then, when you don't win, you're left flailing for a little while. Don't worry about it."

Hawthorne shrugged and idly picked up a plate, starting to load it with finger food.

"Besides, that was the whole reason I cut that promo after the match. I don't think the result of our match was what's important. We proved that we're the best thing going in TCW these days out there."

"So we're both winners? Like Dante and Freya?"

"Uh...I guess..."

"That's some goofy shit, Bucky."

Matt laughed and started filling up his own plate. "Remind me to stop lending you Frank Miller comics. Your language is getting just appalling."

"Stephen?"

Both men turned around at the mention of Hawthorne's name. Freya was standing on the other side of the room.

"Freya? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?"

Hawthorne looked embarrassed, as if he'd been caught doing something illicit or shameful. "Well...what do you want?"

"Oh, I just need to talk to you." She paused and looked at Strikmore. "Is that all right?"

"Yes. Yes, of course." He put his plate down and gave Matt a quick smile before walking away towards Freya.

Matt watched him go, just catching Freya's eye before she turned away and left with Hawthorne in tow. Suppressing an involuntary shudder, he took a seat next to some of the lightning technicians and tucked into his dinner as the show continued.

* * *

Dante winced as he climbed the steps up to the curtain. "I'm never having a match with you again, you know."

"Fine, no Bleeder Title for you."

"Like I want that grubby thing. That's mostly Coren's blood all over it. I heard a rumour he was HIV positive, you know."

"What?" Freya looked down at the belt around her waist. "Are you serious?"

"You ever hear of a guy called El Jobber? Just don't eat anything off it, that's all I'm saying."

Hawthorne, at the rear of the party, shook his head. He barely knew Dante and he had to admit that the legendary wrestler intimidated him. Freya had told him that he was half-demon or something, but Hawthorne still didn't know how he felt about news like that. Mostly, he concentrated on his own weirdness and didn't think too hard about everyone else's.

He couldn't shake his discomfort with the way Freya and Dante were joshing with each other now though, as if none of the events of the past few months had even happened. Freya had told him some of the stories of what they'd been through, and he couldn't imagine being friends with someone who'd done the things Dante had.

But...that's what he was being asked to do...

"You ready, Stephen?"

Hawthorne looked up at Freya and nodded. "Yes I think so."

"Excited?"

Was he?

"Yes."

Freya raised her eyebrows. "Well, see how you feel when you get out there."

"I hope they still have our old video on tape," Dante growled, "or we're going to look like idiots."

"We will anyway – Misfit and Aco aren't around."

"No, I think they cut a new version a while ago." Dante waved a hand. "It'll be fine. Come on." He jogged up the steps, Freya following close behind. Hawthorne hung back for a second, listening to the Darkness chants that were thunderous even backstage. Finally, he placed his foot on the steps and followed the two people who he could once again call stable mates.

* * *

Matt rested the plate on his knee as he watched the main event unfold. The action was transfixing, if only because of the reactions of the fans.

"Say what you want about those Hellfire kids," a technician sitting next to him said, "they know how to work a crowd."

"Yeah," he murmured.

The result came in with a certain air of predictability, and Matt found himself unfazed. He was about to stand up and get his things when something happened that made him pay attention.

"Hey, is that Cap'?"

"What is this shit?" It was a different Technician that had spoken now.

"What's up, DeSean?" Matt asked, turning to him.

DeSean nodded at the screen. "What are they doing?"

"Looks like a reunion."

"Real touching."

Matt sat back in his seat, steadying the empty plate on his knee again. "I guess that's what Freya wanted to talk to Cap' about."

"Man, I don't believe this." DeSean sat down in the seat next to Matt.

"I guess my promo couldn't have come at a better time, huh?"

DeSean shook his head and rested his chin in his hands. "All this shit, man. I told Darkness...I fucking told him...now he and his freaks gotta start all this again. I don't believe it. MacDonald's gonna crucify us."

"You really think this investigation's going to come to something?"

"It will if this New Hellfire Club bullshit carries on. Man, I told him. I love this damn sport, and he's gonna kill it. Him and his buddies."

"And Cap'," Matt added reflexively.

DeSean pointed. "He's there too. All buddy-buddy with those freaks." He stood up, shaking his head again. "I'm gonna go grab a beer. Wanna come?"

"Maybe I should wait for Cap'..."

"I think he's hanging with some of the other kids now, bro."

"Right...I guess he is. Yeah, let's get a beer."

DeSean: I feel like I'm in high school, Matt.

Matt: That's not entirely a bad thing, right?

DeSean: I still think that last place wasn't too bad.

Matt: Man, we had to sign like a dozen autographs before we even caught site of the bartender.

DeSean: But did you see that one girl?

Matt: Still seeing her when my eyes close. Which hopefully never changes.

DeSean: I guess we should have expected that, with Endgame ending all of two hours ago.

Matt: Still, there's worse things in the world than a six pack and a bridge.

*The two tap bottles.*

DeSean: True.

*The two men lean on the barrier of the bridge, looking over the water. Matt still has slight muscle spasms from his match, the adrenaline rush leaving a dried out husk. In the distance, dim lighting of homes run the length of the waters edge. There's been so much water between Matt and home that he never thought he'd see his slice of the ocean's shore again, but it's something he's glad to be wrong about. Still, what's waiting for them after the homecoming is enough to almost make him forget about the friendly faces he's hoping to see.*

Matt: Are we ready for this?

*DeSean tips his bottle up while raising an eyebrow at Matt.*

Matt: The match next week. Darkness and Hawthorne. Are we ready for that?

DeSean: We were nearly flawless in our matches, Matt. People can talk about the Club, but the fact is that we're practically just as dominate. Even with depleted tag ranks, no one out there is thinking we're a great team by default. They know we'd tear up in any roster.

Matt: You're missing my point. I know you can go in the ring, I know I can go in the ring. There's probably no one in the company that knows each other as competitors as we know each other. What I'm asking is are we ready for this? Mindset, history, egos. Are we actually past this stuff?

DeSean: The way I look at is this. We're standing on a bridge in the middle of nowhere with no witnesses. We're sharing a six pack. And I have no desire to toss you off this bridge. I can say that much.

Matt: That works for me.

DeSean: Since you're getting all introspective, I've got no reason to keep from asking this. What's up with you and Hawthorne?

Matt: He's a good guy. We're friends.

DeSean: A friend that was just standing tall with Hellfire Club.

Matt: People can have more than one friend, DeSean.

DeSean: I'll give you that, but he was standing right there with the people you went off on after your match. Bravo on that, by the way.

Matt: I never mentioned the Hellfire Club, dude. Not once.

DeSean: Please! Everyone knows that's what you meant. And let me fill you in a little bit more. Backstage? When you were going all pulpit out there? The boys in the back were nodding along. I'm with you on this, Matt.

Matt: Anyway, Stephen is just in a rough place. He just lost his title shot, and you and I know first hand what it's like to lose that.

DeSean: Yeah.

Matt: Actually, you know exactly what it's like losing your title shot, your TC title shot. To me.

DeSean: I get it.

Matt: Sorry. Couldn't help myself. At any rate, I don't blame him for wanting something familiar.

DeSean: All I'm saying is that you seem to have a hard-on for moving the TC scene to the top of the card, and right now, your friend is right in your face. If I'm going to be in this, I need to know you can push a familiar face down the mountain.

*Matt looks down at the water, sipping at his second beer.*

Matt: If he's supposed to be standing there, he'll throw me off. He gets that.

DeSean: I just don't trust the guy.

Matt: That's because you were in Infinity. It was your job to hate those guys.

DeSean: It has nothing to do with that.

Matt: It has everything to do with it, and you know it. You going to stand there and tell me that a little part of you doesn't want to punch Darkness in the forehead with your ring hand and leave a nice little Infinity insignia behind?

DeSean: So next week Technical Perfection breaks the streak of the Club standing strong in the ring when the lights go down.

Matt: But that's next week. You taking the time off like Stern said?

DeSean: Yeah, I think so. Hit North Carolina for a bit. You?

Matt: Hell to the yes. I'm going home to Wildwood. I plan on gaining about five pounds from Sam's Pizza, then catching at least one wave.

DeSean: Wave? In November?

Matt: Tradition, man. I haven't missed getting at least one wave year since I could stand on a board.

DeSean: So you're going home to get pneumonia. Great.

Matt: Correction. Getting pneumonia on the companies dime. You called LePage yet?

DeSean: Nope. You?

Matt: No. Probably should, huh?

*DeSean nods and pulls out his phone, while Matt does the same.*

DeSean: No bars.

Matt: I got one. I'll grab your ticket.

*Matt sits on the hood of the car, sifting through his phone to find LePage's number. Finally, after many static filled rings, he gets an answer.*

Matt: LePage? It's Strikmore. Listen, I need some flights.

LePage: As does everyone in this country. I can't book anything without it getting stolen from under me!

Matt: Seriously?! Look, just get us to the States and we can manage from there.

LePage: Looks like there's something going into Atlanta...

Matt: Atlanta?

DeSean: Book it!

Matt: Book it! Two seats, I got DeSean here.

LePage: Either of you Irish?

Matt: On my dog's side.

LePage: Well it looks like it wore off. You got tickets. There were four a second ago, all booked now.

Matt: Great! So we leave tomorrow?

LePage: Not quite. Three days.

Matt: Three days?!?

DeSean: How long?!

LePage: Look, it's all I could get! Darkness has a circus following him, so everyone is booking stuff to Chicago. Look, I have to go. I have phones ringing all over the place. I'll email you your boarding stuff.

*Matt flips the phone shut and grabs his third beer.*

DeSean: So?

Matt: We're going to need more beer. About three days worth. But we'll get to Atlanta, and we get where we need to from there.

DeSean: So what do we do for three days?

Matt: DeSean... I have beer. I have clear sky. I have running water below me. I think I'm good.

*Matt lays down on the hood of the car, beer resting on his chest. DeSean leans back against the bridge.*

DeSean: As soon as I'm sober, you better get off that hood.

Matt: Yeah yeah. Hey. Remind me. When I beat you, was it via pin or submission?

DeSean: I'm going to throw you into the river.

*The two friends laugh. It's all they can do.*

Hawthorne thought he had it, dammit, he really did. It seemed for a brief moment that he was going to be the man who finally ended Strikmore's reign. But alas, he came up short. Certainly, he thought to himself, that with Valerie Stern watching the match, the dissapointment she felt that Hawthorne had failed to "make her happy", so to speak, would lead to him again having to start over and build back up to a big opportunity. However, much to his surprise, not only was Hawthorne *not* demoted match wise, it seemed he was in the "main event" so to speak. It was again against Strikmore, whose partner was DeSean....and Hawthorne's tag partner? Darkness.

Darkness...

Darkness...

Darkness who had injured him at Road To Glory...

Darkness that didn't bother to visit him in the hospital when most of the TCW roster did (or at least sent well wishing notes if they couldn't)...

Darkness who didn't even seen to care about Hawthorne at most points, even on his best day he just seemed to treat Hawthorne as just some guy who hung out with Freya rather then an actual stable mate...

Pacing about in the dining/bar area of the bar, this was all that Hawthorne could think of. In fact, it was these thoughts that led to Hawthorne bumping into several people unknowingly. Despite the angry glances at him, even the call of "Hey, watch it moron" from a rather large man who was with his wife, Hawthorne didn't really respond, or seem to care at this point. Even further proving this was when his arm accidentally tipped over a full glass of beer from a nearby table, splashing it to the floor.

Man's Voice: (V.O) Ah shit!

Hawthorne finally snapped out of his state and turned around quickly. Spotting the now fallen glass, he got into apology mode and slowly picked up the glass.

Hawthorne: Ah jeez, I'm sorry about that Sir...I'll buy you a round on me to make up for it...

However, the voice of the man at the table didn't respond. Slowly, Hawthorne stood up and fixed his eyes upon the table, finally revealing the occupant as none other then Matt Strikmore.

Strikmore: (Smirks and speaks) Jeez Cap, I know you might be dissapointed in losing our match, but to smack my beer off the table?

Hawthorne: (Smirks back and manages a laugh) Hey Bucky, how's it going?

Strikmore: Well, can't complain I suppose... (A pause, he slowly looks around and sighs a bit) I suppose the...ahem...cool kids are with you too?

Hawthorne: The "cool kids"?

Strikmore: You know...your girl Freya....Dante, Darkness...

Hawthorne: (Rolls his eyes, but manages a smirk) For the last time Buck, she's not my girl...and no, I'm alone...what makes you think I would be with them?

Strikmore: (A pause, he slowly motions for Hawthorne to sit in the empty chair at the table) Well, after that touching reunion of yours, I figured me and DeSean weren't cool enough to hang out with anymore...

Hawthorne: (Sits) DeSean?

Strikmore: Yeah, he feels that you're back to hanging with the Hellfire Club now...is he right?

Darkness...

Darkness...

Hawthorne slowly sighed and shook his head, taking a long moment before finally answering.

Hawthorne: Honest to God's truth? I don't even know how I feel anymore...I mean, Freya and I are good friends yeah...but Dante? Darkness? I feel like they don't even like me...or at the very kindest, just sorta tolerate me...they know I'm there, but I don't think I would be the first person they called if they got a flat tire...

Strikmore: Or got attacked by the forces of evil...

Hawthorne: (Chuckles a bit) Right, that....

Strikmore: Jeez, all of that mumbo jumbo bullshit that goes on with them...makes me kinda glad I'm not a part of whatever shit they get into on a weekly basis...

Hawthorne: (A pause, he mutters) Yeah....I'm kinda glad too...in a way, I think being injured was kind of a good thing...got me away from them for a year and away from all of the danger and craziness...

Strikmore: So why not just walk away from them dude? Freya will understand if she's your friend, and I don't think Darkness and Dante will be weeping at your feet to stay with them...

Hawthorne: (Sighs, he'd rather change the subject) I just want to relax right now Buck, in two days I've got plane tickets to Atlanta and...

Strikmore: (His eyes perk up) Atlanta?

Hawthorne: (Nods) Yeah, I have some family down there, thought I'd go and visit them, get some relaxation...

Strikmore: You're shitting me right? Damn Cap, *I'm* going down to Atlanta too, DeSean as well...What flight is it?

Hawthorne: Flight 381....

Strikmore: (Lets out a happy laugh) Damn Cap, it's like fate!

Hawthorne: Let me guess, that's your flight too eh?

Strikmore: Hell yeah...

Hawthorne: (Smiles) Well that's great...it'll be nice to have a friend on board to talk too...

There was a pause, then Hawthorne eyed Strikmore again and spoke

Hawthorne: DeSean's not gonna give me the evil eye the whole flight is he? Seeing as how apparently I'm not on his favorites list anymore...

Strikmore: Not when he sees you're not traveling with the freak show he won't...heh, come on Cap, have a drink on me won't ya?

A pause from Hawthorne, then a smile. Yes, a drink with a good friend would hit the spot right about now...

"Aw man, I'm tired." DeSean said while sighing. He stood up from his spot on the bridge, he outstretched his arms, his body reflected off the the full moon above them giving his shadow an Batman type silhouette .

"Ha, I see what you did there." Matt poked fun at DeSean who proceeded to take in a deep breath of the cold but clean and refreshing air.

"It'll feel good to be home, I can't wait to see my friends, my family, play catch up." DeSean told Matt with a wide smile on his face, he never thought he would be so excited to go back to Greensboro or what he and friends used to call Greensboring. His thoughts went back to 4 years ago when he left North Carolina and moved up north to New York which a lot of wrestlers did to get noticed. The happiness he felt of finally being on his own but a lot has changed since then. Occasionally he would make frequent visits to his hometown but he hadn't been there in a year and a half, a lot happens in a year and a half.

"Yea I hear you man, it'll be great to be in Wildwood again. My question is are you going to be making a stop in Virginia?"

"I doubt it, me and Tiffany are done...finished." DeSean told Matt.

"Yea right, you two are made for each other. You just don't know it yet." Matt said.

"Well she won't know I'm in town either. I'll be in and out before she knows it."

"I thought you said you weren't going to have sex with her." Matt sarcastically told DeSean.

"Oh, fuck you." DeSean replied back, while Matt chuckled.

"Since you're sober enough to make smart ass comments, I'm sure you can drive yourself back to the hotel right?" DeSean asked Matt, while feeling in his pockets for his car keys.

"Oh I'm fine, I'll catch up with ya later."

"All right, I'm out of here." DeSean told Matt as he threw up a peace sign, as he entered his rental car.

...................................
3 Days later

"I'm coming home again.
Do you think about me now and then?
Do you think about me now and then?
Cause I'm coming home again
I'm in home again."

He turned his iPod off in order to hear when his flight was boarding, he sat down on a nearby chair looking outside the window of the planes taking off. Sat next to him was his luggage, feeling 10 pounds lighter due to his Aftershock title being around the waist of Izumi. To be honest he was surprised at how he's taken the lost in stride. Though he didn't shake her hand in front of the cameras, he ran into her backstage and congratulated her on a well fought match. Losing the title to Izumi felt like he lost the title to a little sister. He was upset but he couldn't stay mad at her for long and in reality he was happy for her. He knew Izumi would defend the belt with honor and he could set his sites on another title.

Presumably the World Titles that Darkness held...Darkness DeSean tried to tell him, he warned him the consequences of continuing the same bullshit, the fans, congress but it was like Darkness didn't care, he didn't care about their profession, their livelihoods. The longer he held onto those titles, the more he felt invincible, his ego was growing to insurmountable proportions and it was going to consume TCW whole, if it's not stopped. Luckily he had a fellow believer, someone he could trust, someone he could count on in Matt Strikmore. Matt was just as passionate as he was in the matter and together they could end the NHFC before it got started, for the sake of TCW and Professional wrestling it needed to happen.

Flight 381 to Atlanta, GA is now boarding

"Great" DeSean thought to himself. He reached down in his pocket and grabbed his plane ticket and began walking towards the gate but stopped. Where the hell was Matt? He expected to run into him but so far there was no sign of him.

"Maybe he's already boarding the plane." DeSean again thought to himself. Instead of wasting time looking for his tag partner, he decided not to waste anytime and headed towards the gate. He sped walked across the airport until he got to the gate, he handed the flight attendant his plane ticket and walked inside. He looked for his seat and decided to grab the window seat before Matt could claim dibs on it. Again though just where in the hell was Matt? His mind started to get away from him. Maybe he was just late? No, that couldn't be it. Maybe he changed flights but if that was the case, he would have told him. Maybe just maybe Darkness attacked Matt but that wasn't Darkness' style then again who knows Darkness' thought process right now. Maybe Hawthorne attacked him, Cap betrayed Matt seeing him as a threat and still having bitterness over the Transcontinental title match.

"Son of a bitch" DeSean said to himself while having an eureka type moment.

"Son of a motherfucking bitch, he set him up. Captain America motherfucker set him up, Humphrey Bogart reject ass set him up."

The adrenaline was rushing through his veins as he strapped himself in, he quickly tapped his fingers on his arm rest. He was so alert that a tap on his shoulder startled him.

"Whoa, what the hell?" DeSean was brought back to Earth with a simple tap on the shoulder of his partner.

"What's wrong with you?" Strikmore asked while shoving his luggage into the compartment above them.

"Nothin, I thought you may have been attacked."

"By who?"

"By Hawthorne or Darkness or anyone. Where the hell have you been you were supposed to meet me on the East entrance."

"I thought it was the West entrance, anyway I'm fine. I've been with Cap." Matt said nonchalantly.

"Hawthorne? Really?" DeSean asked.

"Yea, he's on the same flight with us. Remember?"

"I remember but I thought....dammit" frustrated by his own imagination DeSean pounded the back on his head on his soft plush chair.

"I told you Cap is cool, OK?" Matt reassured DeSean while reading an Arkham Asylum.

"Well if he's so cool why is hanging around a bunch of weirdos and losers?" DeSean asked while adjusting his seat.

"Yea because me and you are just the epitome of cool?" Matt said sarcastically.

"Well I don't know about you but I am cool.I was voted coolest wrestler alive in PWE" DeSean told Matt.

"Yea so has Darkness" Matt reminded DeSean.

"Yea but not twice" DeSean reminded Matt in a very smug like fashion.

"Look Cap is cool, here he comes just act normal" Matt instructed DeSean in a low tone, DeSean nodded his head as if he understood.

"Cap what's up?l." Matt acknowledged Hawthorne who walked towards them and also stuffed his luggage in the compartment.

"Fellas" Hawthorne told both Matt and DeSean while he sat in the aisle seat. DeSean nodded at Hawthorne then rolled his eyes. He pressed play on his iPod but nothing happened he noticed that the battery level was low.

"Bullshit." he said out loud.

"What's wrong?" Matt asked him never looking up from his Arkham Asylum graphic novel.

"The batteries in my iPod are dead"

"Again? Dude why don't you ever charge your iPod?"

"I did....a couple of weeks ago. At least I got my CD player as a back-up. Damn I left my CDs in my suitcase though and I don't feel like getting up." DeSean opened his CD player, to check what CD was. There was no label on the disk, so he shrugged his shoulders and figured that it was some mix he made a while ago. He sat back in his chair and pressed play.

"Oh you gotta be shittin me." he thought to himself.

Wrestling jones, Wrestling Jones, I got a Wrestling Jones,
got a Wrestling Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-oo,
Yes, I am the victim of a wrestling Jones

"Dammit, this is Eddie's CD" DeSean cursed at himself for even accepting the CD as a gift from Eddie, then allowing Eddie to put the CD in his CD player but what the hell? It was a long flight.

Ever since I was a little baby, I always be fighting'
In fact', I was de baddest fighter in the whole neighborhood
Then one day, my mama bought me a toy ring
And I loved that ring
I took that ring with me everywhere I went
That ring was like a ring to me

"That makes no sense whatsoever." DeSean said.

I even put a Wrestlemania tape underneath my pillow
Maybe that's why I can't sleep at night
I need help, ladies and gentlemens
I need someone to stand beside me
I need, I need someone to pick me up and bodyslam back into reality
Someone I can tag into
Someone to hit a prone man with a phoenix 720 splash
And then pick up the win
So ring rats, help me out

Wrestling Jones, I got a wrestling jones
I got a Wrestling Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-ooo

C'mon Stallion...Jag sing it with them

Wrestling Jones, I got a Wrestling Jones
I got a wrestling, oh baby, oo-oo-ooo


"Jesus Christ, kill me now" DeSean thought to himself, oh it was going to be a long flight indeed.

.........................................

"So Hawthorne, where's Darkness headed?" DeSean asked Hawthorne. The plane ride was quiet and DeSean was tired of hearing whatever the hell Eddie called singing.

"Freya told me he was headed to New York with her and the children." Hawthorne replied not soon after he spoke those words, he regretted what he said.

"Freya has kids?" DeSean asked surprisingly.

"Um...no just some fans of Freya, she's treating them all to New York."

"Oh, OK. Darkness has family in New York?"

"I don't think he does to be honest, just going with Freya to New York"

"Oh, OK so you probably won't be seeing him until we head into Chicago, which is supposed to be his hometown?"

"Yea, I think Chicago is his hometown.

"Interesting." DeSean said. Hawthorne didn't know shit about Darkness that part was evident. DeSean and Matt knew each other well inside and outside the ring, friends, enemies, rivals, tag partners, friendly rivals again. It was so weird to DeSean, how can two stablemates really not know anything about each other? Infinity was all about camaraderie, yea there were a bunch of egos involved but at least they could call each other friends if not family. DeSean never got that same vibe from the New Hellfire Club.

"In about 3 minutes we'll be landing in Atlanta." Matt said looking down at his watch.

"I kinda envy you Hawthorne, you don't have to make a long trip from Atlanta, I'm going to regret not paying extra for additional plane tickets from Atlanta to North Carolina." DeSean told Hawthorne.

"Well at least you don't have to drive all the way out to Wildwood hell who are you trying to fool you're not driving you ordered an limousine to pick you up." Matt added

"Well those plush leather seats can make you fall asleep, I won't be able to enjoy the limo that much." DeSean said while smiling,

"Let's be honest with ourselves though, it's going to feel good sleeping in beds we own." Hawthorne reminded them both.

The plane landed smoothly and stopped. All 3 men exited the plane along with the other passengers. As soon as they stepped foot on American soil, DeSean knelt down and simulated kissing the floor of the Atlanta Hartsfield Airport. As much as he complained about the state of the US, he really did miss wrestling in front of the American fans. He was so used to hearing an foreign languages, that hearing the English language being used frequently almost sounded foreign to him.

"Well gentlemen I guess this when we part ways for now." Matt said, taking a deep breath trying to take it all in while it lasted.

"Well I'm going to meet up with my family in here but I'll catch up with you guys in Chicago." Hawthorne told both DeSean and Matt.

"Yes most definitely, honestly the ride wasn't that bad, it was pretty fun. You're a pretty cool guy Cap. Just like us." DeSean jokingly told Hawthorne. He extended his hand out and Stephen shook it. He and Matt also shook hands as all 3 men waved goodbye to each other but made promises of meeting up in Chicago. Hawthorne then turned and walked away, heading towards his family while thinking about the two guys he would have to meet opposite in the ring.

DeSean on the other hand decided to stop inside a store and grabbed a few things like toys and some games for his cousins. Once he bought all the items he retrieved his luggage and stepped on the APM which brought him to the south terminal. Once there he saw a middle aged man in a black suit, holding a sign with DeSean's name on it. DeSean walked up to the man and introduced himself, even though the limo driver recognized who he was from the Nike commercials (go figure) The driver named Bob led DeSean to the limo and opened the door for him.

"You sure you want to do this sir? Reunions, homecomings a lot of people go out their way to not make them." the driver jokingly informed DeSean. DeSean gave him a fake smile and stepped inside.

"I think I may regret this." he thought to himself as he heard the Limousine crank up. He knew that the cold feet he was feeling, was natural. To keep his mind off things, he turned on the radio, flipping through stations until he heard something that interested him.

You're listening to 107.9 WHTA, Hip-Hop and R&B and yes we have a new track for, featuring a new voice in R&B, young man from ATL. Honestly I think this track is really funny and genius mixing comedy and R&B, professional wrestler from TCW and ATL's own Eddie Isley.

"What? I don't think they realize that he's not joking." DeSean said aloud to himself.

Wrestling Jones, Wrestling Jones, I got a Wrestling Jones,
got a Wrestling Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-oo,
Yes, I am the victim of a Wrestling Jones

Yea it's going to be a long 7 hours....

"'I'm moving to Canada' is starting to sound like a catchphrase," the news analyst said as he waved a paper at his colleague with just that headline. "MacDonald's election was not without controversy, but the American public voted him in fair and square, right? People have only themselves to blame if they don't like it."

"I don't know if I'd use the phrase 'fair and square', Jeff," the other analyst replied, "he took it to the Supreme Court, and I don't have to tell you about the situation with Ohio's voting – accusations that black voters were turned away at the polls, and a lot of other shady dealings which look to a lot of people like an exact rerun of 2000 and 2004."

"Right, but the sky didn't fall then and it won't fall now. I myself am not a supporter of many of MacDonald's policies, but you and I both know that promises made during an election campaign do not magically come true when the guy making them gets into power. MacDonald isn't even President yet. And do you think if Obama had won we'd be having universal healthcare on day one? The President may have executive power, but he can't do a thing without the say-so of Congress. The Arab world is not going to be invaded, and homosexual rights aren't going to be pushed back to pre-1960s levels. This is paranoia, plain and simple."

"So really nothing is going to change?"

"Of course not. You know, whether conservative commentators in this country like it or not, America has been becoming more egalitarian with each generation that goes by. You can't undo civil rights, for example."

"But America failed to elect its first black President last month..."

"Right, but that doesn't prove anything. Obama was just not the right man for the job. He lacked MacDonald's experience, and the voters felt like, right now, America needs a firm hand to lead it forward. The economy is crumbling and we're fighting two foreign wars."

"MacDonald is hardly the man to fix that though, is he? He's spoken about a draft..."

"Now be fair – he's spoken about increasing troop deployment. That doesn't necessarily mean a draft."

"So where will these new soldiers come from?"

"Well, recruitment might be down, but that doesn't mean no one is joining up. We still have one of the largest armed forces in the world, Harry. You know, one way or the other, MacDonald wants to end the violence in the Middle East too. Obama would have pulled us out of Iraq, MacDonald just wants to finish what we started. I admire his honesty and commitment at least."

"And if he starts a holy war, as his critics have said?"

"That's just fear mongering – remember that bit in the Constitution about separation of church and state. However you might characterise America, we're not, in a technical sense, a Christian nation. Men and women of all faiths and no faith serve in the military. It's the fanatics in the Islamic world that talk in terms of Christian versus Muslim. America doesn't represent Christ: it represents freedom from tyranny."

Strikmore shook his head as he watched the debate unfold on the TV screen in the airport lounge. "You believe any of this stuff, Cap'?"

Hawthorne put down his newspaper and folded it on his lap. His original plans had stalled – his flight to JFK had been delayed and so he was keeping Strikmore company in the lounge until his own flight.

"America's a very different place from how I remember, let's just put it like that."

"Me and you both, Cap'. I feel like I just woke up from being frozen myself."

"I wasn't actually frozen, you know..."

Strikmore grinned at Hawthorne. "You could have been – you don't know."

"I suppose I don't. It would be as good an explanation as any."

"I never asked: what's with this family you're going to see?"

"I didn't just spend my hiatus lying up in a hospital bed. I tracked down my son."

"Your son? No kidding."

"He's a grown man. Actually, he's middle-aged. Older than me."

"That's...freaky."

"You have no idea."

"Gonna be awkward around the dinner table, huh? He got kids or anything?"

Hawthorne nodded. "Yep. I'm a grandpa. He and I talked about everything – did the whole 'ask me something only your pops would know' routine, but as far as his family are concerned, I'm just a distant cousin."

"Who's a wrestler..."

"That would be another adjustment I've had to make. You know, we didn't have celebrities when I was...I mean, back in those days. Not like you have now, anyway."

"Maybe I should have sent you gossip magazines instead of comics."

"I don't think there's anything anyone could have done to prepare me for the 21st Century. I read things, science fiction and the like, that make fun of the things people used to imagine about the future in my time and after the war."

"Jet packs and stuff?"

"Exactly. People act like nothing huge changed and the writers back in the 40s and 50s were crazy. Well let me tell you, they may have gotten a few things wrong, but stepping from one era into another is pretty damn scary. Internet...cell phones...global warming...bullet trains...atomic bombs...factories the size of cities...space stations..."

"Hey, be fair, our space stations are pretty crappy."

"But men walked on the moon. We have thousands of machines orbiting the planet. To you, the progress must look slow, but to me it's unimaginable." He gestured around them at the modern interior of the departure lounge with its fluorescent lights, wall-sized windows looking out over the vast runway on which plans bussed their way around and blaring TVs hanging from the walls. "This is normal life for you – to me it's like living inside a sci-fi novel. I'm in the future."

"Man," Strikmore said after a few moments of silence, "I wonder what it'd be like if I woke up sixty years in the future."

Hawthorne nodded at the TV as he picked up his newspaper again. "I wouldn't worry – by the sounds of things, there wouldn't be a world to wake up to."

* * *

DeSean was making his own adjustments as he enjoyed the long ride to North Carolina. Eddie being a star in his own right would take a bit of getting used to and, apparently, popular music in America had suffered greatly during his absence if his terrible songs were getting airplay. He looked out of the tinted window as the landscape flashed by. It was winter: everything was a uniform brown, drab against the pale blue sky. Even within the comforting embrace of his air-conditioned car, DeSean felt cold as he looked out at the wintry scene.

It wasn't just America's music scene that was in poor shape, he knew. His country was staring into the grim maw of a recession – maybe another Great Depression – and an unpopular and controversial man had been elected President. This was not the America he had wanted to return to. In his imagination, home was untouched, exactly as he had left it, as pristine as the new fallen snow which, in defiance of any sense of poetry, was not blanketing the landscape right now.

He knew that everything would be happy when he walked through the door of his family home. The place would be covered in Christmas decorations already – his mom usually waited a couple weeks, but she'd told him in her last phone call that she'd put them up ready for him, since no one had any idea how long he was staying. It would be warm and friendly and there'd be a lot of food and movies and hanging out at the bar with old friends. It would be a fairytale, but, like a fairytale, it wouldn't be real. There'd be a grain of truth to it, but everyone would be pushing down the sick worry they felt so they didn't ruin his vacation.

Recession. A draft. This investigation that might destroy his livelihood. Three grim spectres that would be hanging over everyone's head and he, like the rest of them, would have to pretend he couldn't see them for the sake of keeping the peace.

Outside the window, everything was still cold and brown. He shivered.

* * *

"Do you want to go to New York?"

Darkness looked up at Revenant. He was crouched on his haunches, sharpening his sword with a whetstone. True to form, he had retreated to the roof of the hotel to do it.

"Why would I want to go to New York?"

Rev shrugged. "I think Freya's going."

"Why is she going to New York?"

"Somewhere to go, I guess. You have a free ticked to anywhere in America – might as well hit the Big Orange."

"Big Apple. And I suppose that's fair enough. She deserves to see the sights."

"Don't you want to do any sightseeing?"

"I've seen everything I want to see and more besides."

"How about going home? I believe that's the basic idea of this thing of Stern's."

"Home? Where's home? You know my story."

"I just thought you might want to visit somewhere familiar. Chicago? I don’t know..."

"Do you want to go home?"

Revenant looked wary. "Where?"

"The house you grew up in...the place in which you were imprisoned and tormented...the place..."

"All right! I get it: you're brooding and angsty and have no home to go to. You're a big scary guy who doesn't have any friends or family."

"Actually," Darkness said, returning to his sword, "I was about to say that you and The Children are my family, and that home is wherever we all are, but your way is fine too."

"Oh you don't fool me – I know you don't really have a heart of gold buried under that steely exterior."

Darkness twirled his sword around, examining its edge. "You're right: I'm steel all the way through."

"If you were a teddy bear," Rev continued, "you'd have gone to see Hawthorne when he was sick."

"Who?"

"Hawthorne...he's your stable-mate..."

"I know, I was kidding." He stood up and hefted the sword in his hand. "What do you know about that anyway?"

"I read stuff."

"Cai or Peredur told you what was happening in the fed, didn't they?"

"Yes, fine. They were getting worried."

"Why?"

"Apparently Strikmore said some stuff about you at Endgame."

"He did?"

"Well not exactly, but there was definite subtext. Apparently the dirtsheets are talking about him forming a stable with some other guys."

"Dirtsheets?"

Revenant held up her hands. "I'm only repeating what they told me."

"I don't see what Strikmore talking about me has to do with Hawthorne."

"They're, like, BFFs you know."

"BF...what?"

"Friends. Buddies. Amigos. You know, like you and...uh..."

"Trying to think of a friend I have that hasn't tried to kill me?"

"Pretty much."

"But this is interesting. I didn't realise they even knew each other."

"People do socialise in the locker room you know. I hear it's fairly common."

Darkness sighed. "Not this again. You sound like DeSean – do you really think it's my fault I'm not a presence backstage? Do I strike you as an unfriendly person?"

"You're sitting on your own in the freezing cold on a roof, sharpening a five foot sword."

"Fair point, but I feel that accusations about my antisocial behaviour have been blown wildly out of proportion. I don't have time to make friends with the people I fight. It's not personal."

"But you have time to sit on your own in the freezing cold on..."

"Okay, okay. So I'm not that friendly with the...the...'boys in the back'...what do you want me to do? Become some kind of locker room leader? Go to Stern with the wrestlers' complaints and haze new referees in the showers?"

"Yeah. Well maybe not the last one. But you are the Champion. You should have some sort of standing backstage, shouldn't you?"

"I don't know. Maybe I will spend some time with Hawthorne though."

"Better upgrade your cell phone package then – he left for the States yesterday."

"What for?"

"To see his family or something. That's what Freya said."

"He has family?"

"Do you know anything about him?"

Darkness eyed Revenant as he headed for the doorway that led back to the hotel's interior. "Freya gave me her word that he was trustworthy – why does no one seem to understand that that's enough for me? I don't have to be his friend to know I can rely on him."

"But what if it turns out you can't?"

*Airports. It's as fun as it sounds. You know the elevator effect? How conversation stops the second the doors close? Airports are an extension of that. It's like there's only so many words that can fit in the confines of the walls and all the patrons have their quota. You can't just go around talking your head off. What if you need a sentence to explain why the metal detector went off? Plate in the forehead? That right there is a story, probably a third of your rationed syllables. Of course, this all theory. Maybe we're just worried we can't walk away from a heated argument, or a pointed question. Flight taking off? There's monitors everywhere letting people know you're lying. There's a reason the Arrivals areas are louder than the Departures. People can escape. Pick your theory, pick your reasons, but conversation is hard when you're trying leave, no matter the company you're keeping.*

Matt: So...

Hawthorne: Hmm?

Matt: Did they have planes when you grew up?

Hawthorne: Depends. Did they have history books when you did?

Matt: I could be illiterate, you know. Being the case, that would be a very hurtful thing to say, shoving words in my face.

Hawthorne: You're not illiterate. You read comic books all the time.

Matt: Maybe I just look at the picture.

Hawthorne: Are we really having this conversation?

Matt: Seems that way. I hate airports.

Hawthorne: Ditto.

Matt: Cap?

Hawthorne: Hmm?

Matt: Did they have airports when you grew up?

*The grin on Matt's face was a wide as could be, and wouldn't even be moved after a solid blow to the back of his head.*

Hawthorne: It occurs to me that I don't know anything about you.

Matt: You know plenty about me.

Hawthorne: I know the standard coworker stuff, but as a friend, I don't really know much at all.

Matt: Nothing much to say, especially against someone who is older than his son.

Hawthorne: Then pretend for a second that this isn't a competition. What's waiting for you back at.. Wildwood was it?

Matt: Yeah, Wildwood. This time of year, there's not much waiting for me. Still, it's my slice of Earth. Wildwood is a bunch of piers jutting out over the ocean, covered with carnival rides and water parks. In the Summer, the place is a madhouse. People from all over hit the boards. Growing up there was awesome. I had rotating girlfriends all Summer, since they all left in a week, the local kids would all grab partime jobs doing whatever. The employment rate skyrocketed. I've worked at a fry shack, a ring toss, an arcade, and a few others I can't remember.

Hawthorne: Sounds nice.

Matt: Yeah, it is. It really is. Until the first chill in the air. Then everyone goes home, except those that are already there. Every Fall, we have to watch our hometown die. People lose jobs, motels go out of business. You just kind of hope everything lights back up again when it gets warmer. All through Fall and Winter, you just talk about your favorite days of Summer, try and bring it all back with memories. But when you grow up, and those part time jobs for pocket money don't do the trick anymore, you spend the Summer fearing the Winter. You spend all your time worrying about about the cold months that you forget the memories. Those memories are the only thing to keep you going in the dead of winter, and with out, people tend to give up.

Hawthorne: You still have family there?

Matt: Yeah, my Mom and Dad are still there. It's Winter, so Mom is probably working two jobs and Dad is working doubles.

Hawthorne: They must be proud of what you accomplished.

Matt: I hope so. It's because of them I've gotten this far. When I turned 16, they pretty much handed me all the money they could and told me to leave. I didn't have to go far, I just couldn't live in their house anymore. They wanted me to see what the Winter was like before it was too late to get out. Me and some friends got a place a few blocks down, and the first Winter almost ended me. The next year, I was on the road out of town the second that first chill hit my neck.

Hawthorne: Where'd you end up going?

Matt: To find a longer Summer. All I ever wanted to do was be a wrestler, so I'd find odd jobs like ring setup and everything. Just kept making those memories to get me through the cold.

Hawthorne: When's the last time you were home?

Matt: I visited a bit during my neck rehab. My Mom would turn away every time my back was to her, she didn't want to see the scar. My Dad and I just talked about whatever, had beers, the usual. I think they're still scared I'll stay home one of these times. The last thing they want is for me to live there again. They just want better for me.

Hawthorne: It's a hard thing to do, to kick someone out because it's for the best.

Matt: That's enough of the serious stuff. If you think on the past too much, you worry about the future. Worry about the future, repeat the past. Just make what you can out of the day.

Hawthorne: Carpe Diem.

Matt: So I was right, they did still speak Latin back in your day.

*Stephen lifts his hand to hit Matt again, but decides against it. It was a fair shot. The two share a laugh and gain a memory, keeping the cold December air at bay. Matt checks the time and grabs his bag.*

Matt: My flight's about to board. Atlantic City, here I come.

Hawthorne: How're you getting from there to home?

Matt: Figure I'll start calling my friends till one picks me up.

Hawthorne: Parents aren't getting you?

Matt: They don't know I'm coming. They have enough to worry about.

Hawthorne: Well, take it easy. See you in Chicago.

Matt: Take care, Cap.

*Matt slings his bag over his shoulder and walks to his gate. Home. The home he can't stay at anymore. Here's to hoping there's enough memories to keep warm.*

Welcome to Greensboro population 255,220

DeSean looked out the window and smiled as they drove past the sign, he didn't realize how much he really missed his hometown. I guess you really don't know what you have until it's gone, the city was really beautiful something he never really noticed while living there. Even with the rain, the sky just seemed a little bit more bluer than what he was used to in South America. The water noticeable cleaner but the beauty of the city seemed like just one big facade of what was really going on. The state of the Nation was terrible, it was worse than terrible, the US citizens passed shits creek a long time ago, they were now entering totally fucked zone and DeSean knew it.

And with 4 more years of the same policies, 4 years of a far-right winger who focused more on dead issues instead of the very live ones, he knew things would get worse. It was something about the election that bothered he wasn't in the US on Nov.4th but he filled out an absentee ballot voting for Barack Obama, he heard about how a lot of Absentee ballots were "misplaced" the whole thing just stunk. Now MacDonald was going to go after the wrestling business, he was going to target TCW because he had no solutions to the real issues and when a politician really has no solutions to the real problems plaguing a country he distracts the American people with trivial bullshit. He tried to warn everyone, he tried to warn Darkness but Darkness lied to him, he bullshitted him and decided he was going to do it his way. Reforming the Hellfire Club for the 3rd time was just trying to capture something that wasn’t there, did the fans ask for the New Hellfire Club to reform? Were they honestly that excited? The fact that he was even asking questions showed in his eyes how there was no justification for the return of the NHFC. The limo stopped at the PTI airport, Bob opened the door and DeSean stepped out. The rain had stopped but he knew it was just the calm before the storm

……………………..

He chose an 2009 Nissan Altima because it was a nice car but it wasn’t too flashy, it was just an rental car and he didn’t want to paint a huge bullseye on himself or the car by picking some extravagant high performance car. It was an hybrid that had good gas mileage but with the gas prices being a lot lower than what he expected, he didn’t have to worry that much about spending money on gas. He pulled into the familiar driveway of the place he lived at for 5 years before moving out, the place of so many memories. DeSean pulled into the driveway and parked his car behind both of his parents and stepped out, he took a deep breathe and proceeded further before stopping at the front door before he rang the doorbell, he took another deep breath and pressed the button, he could hear the dog barking on the other side, that annoying loud bark that he realized his missed.

DeSean: Pepper, shut up!

He shouted as his younger sister opened the door and he walked inside. The sounds of joyful shouting from his family can be heard but that’s not important right now, so we’ll skip that.

……………………

“This country is going to hell in a hand basket.” DeSean’s Mom replied while all four of them sat and chit chatted over the latest news.

Mom: An elderly woman was robbed, shot and killed in her home over in Morningside, then the same two robbers knocked on an old man’s door and shot him the minute he opened it. I want you two to be careful when you go out at night, people don’t care anymore, they’re just so mean nowadays.

Traci: Yea, all right.

DeSean: I’ll be OK, I’ve been through so much shit in TCW there’s nothing I don’t think any normal person could honestly phase me.

Mom: Don’t curse in front of your parents please.

DeSean: Dad, doesn’t care.

Mom: Well don’t curse in front your mother, it’s disrespectful.

DeSean: It’s an habit

DeSean said flippantly while looking at the TV screen , a commercial for 60 minutes showed an upcoming interview with Stephen MacDonald. He quickly change stations just the sight of MacDonald pissed him off.

Dad: Yea you have to remember he’s been around a bunch of potty mouth wrestlers.

DeSean: Yea exactly even though one doesn’t really like to participate in that.

Dad: Who?

DeSean: Our world champion, excuse me Unified World Champion and lord and savior of the entire Universe.

Dad: Darkness really?

DeSean: Yea he’s too good to hang with the rest of the locker room.

Traci: Maybe he’s just quiet.
DeSean: Or he’s an asshole, one of the two.

Mom: DeSean!

DeSean: Sorry, I’ll try and cut out the cursing.

Mom: Well try, we’re having Christmas dinner here I don’t want you cursing in front of your Grandparents and Great-Grandma.

DeSean: I’ll be on my best behavior, for the next week and a half even though I won’t be staying here in this house.

Traci: Where you gon be at then?

DeSean: My place, I did buy an condo here a year ago, which I’m still paying for. Might as well stay in it while I’m here. Plus I need to be making the rounds, visiting both sides of the family. Visit friends and make a couple of more stops.

He stood up and stretched, a clear signal he was leaving but he told he would be back, just needing to go to his condo, drop his clothes off and then head out to some places. He waved goodbye and walked out the house. The first stop would be where it all started, he told himself.

………………………………..................

“Ok we’re going to run the ropes for 5 minutes, remember protect yourself, use your shoulder to bounce off, don’t go straight back. Bounce off at an angle, then run the other way, gradually get faster as you run.”

20 men and women stand around in a circle, they’re hot, they’re sweaty, they’re sore and earlier that day they wondered how they mustered up the strength to get out of their beds but yet here they are in the middle of a ring listening to a guy who calls himself Ric Converse, who makes them take more back bumps and runs the hell out of him until they puke but yet they come back for more, why though? Why do they come back for more?

“You come back for more, because you’re all insane and the ring is your asylum and the insane belongs in the motherfucking asylum.” A voice shouted at them, snapping them to attention. All of them including Ric looked back, at first no one seemed to be there, then he appeared from the corner, with a wide smile of his face.

Ric: Son of a bitch

Ric said smiling.

Ric: Guys meet the world famous, Nike shoe salesman and former CWF Mid Atlantic Triple Crown winner “The Technician” DeSean Blackwell. DeSean meet the future of CWF.

DeSean nodded his head at the group, he stepped in the ring and shook hands with the students including Ric who also gave him an hug for good measure.

Ric: Fuck running the ropes, we’re doing an Q&A session today with our surprise guest. That’s if you’re up to it?

DeSean: Bring em on.

There was a knock at the hotel suite's door. Darkness looked up from where he was sitting with a frown. He looked around at the loitering werewolves but everyone conspicuously avoided his gaze. His frown deepening, he got up and crossed over to the door. The knocking got louder. He opened the door to find the grinning faces of Cai and Peredur. Their arms were filled with foliage of various kinds – mostly branches from fir trees, holly and mistletoe.

"Happy Yule!"

"Excuse me?"

"Here, have this," Peredur said, shoving the vegetation towards Darkness.

"Um. Thanks."

The two werewolves bustled in and now everyone was up and laughing. Darkness turned around, his arms still packed with bits of tree. He cocked an eyebrow at The Children. "Was this some sort of set up?"

"Well it's the tradition," Cai told him, rolling his eyes.

"It is?"

"Yes. You bring people holly and fir and stuff and they put it up. But because we all live together, we had to go out and come back in again."

"What's going on?" Revenant was standing in the doorway to her bedroom, looking out with much the same confused expression as Darkness.

"Happy Yule!" Gawain threw her a sprig of holly.

"Yule? What the hell is Yule?"

"It's Yule," Cai said, as if that was explanation enough.

"You mean Christmas?"

"No, we mean Yule," Eoin clarified. She was fanning out some fir branches and passing them up to Ogier, balanced precariously on one end of a sofa so he could put them on the wall.

"Galadd, go and sit at the other end of that so he doesn't fall over," Darkness said as he put his own branches down on a table. "Eoin: we don't know what Yule is. You didn't celebrate like this last year."

Gawain shook his head. "We did – just not with you."

"What?"

"Hey, c'mon, we didn't know you so well back then. Don't take it personally."

"Will someone please tell me what Yule is?" Revenant asked.

"It's a pagan midwinter festival," Darkness explained, "a lot of Western Christmas traditions originally come from the manner in which Yule was celebrated in pagan Europe."

"Oh."

"But," he added, "I'm assuming this is a modern festival that werewolves celebrate, yes?"

Gawain shrugged. "Can't speak for all werewolves but this is how we do things where we come from."

"So what's Yule all about?" Revenant asked, plonking herself down on the sofa occupied by the standing Ogier and Galadd's massive form.

"Awww...she doesn't know the story of Yule," Eoin said, curling her lower lip in mock sadness, "tell her, Cai."

"Why have I got to tell it?"

"Because you were the one who said we had to do it properly this year," Tilpin said as she shuffled into the room with more mistletoe, "careful with this stuff – it's poisonous. Don't go hanging it up over doorways like humans do."

"Fine," Cai said, "everyone sit comfortably and stuff."

Everyone was in the sitting room now, even Llenlleawg who sat on his own in one corner. Darkness gave him a glance before taking his own seat at the table.

"Okay. So. Every year Fenris tries to eat the sun..."

"Wait," Rev held up a hand, "Fenris? Freya's brother?"

"No," Cai waved his hands, "Fenris the giant wolf. That jerk was just named after him. Anyway, Fenris tries to eat the sun and he gets his best chance on the longest night of the year – the winter solstice. That's when the sun is weakest, so it's vulnerable."

Revenant stuck her tongue out. "This story makes no sense – why does he want to eat the sun?"

"Because he just does! Anyway...he tries to catch the sun and the sun can't defend itself, so it needs some help. That's why Old Wolf leads the Wild Hunt."

"Old Wolf?" Revenant had a strange look on her face.

"He's like a god," Eoin explained.

"I see..."

"So Old Wolf leads the Wild Hunt," Cai continued, "which is all of the legendary heroes and warriors from ancient times. They race across the sky chasing after Fenris to stop him eating the sun, and to make sure Spring comes again. But, if you see the Hunt, you're filled with terror. Anyone who sees it and covers their face in fear is doomed. But, if you manage to see it without cowering away, they let you join the Hunt and reward you with gold."

"Gold? Really?"

"But you can't come back," Galadd said.

"I'm telling the story! No, you can’t come back. If you join the Hunt, you have to go with them to the spirit world after Yule and not come back until next year. But werewolf boys and girls always want to see the Hunt so they can have the glory and gold, so their parents tell them to stay in bed and not look for it and promise to give them gifts to make up for the fact that they don't get any gold."

"So it's like Santa?" Revenant asked.

"Um...I suppose."

She nodded. "Stay in bed, be good, get presents. Just like Christmas."

"But it's better than Christmas," Gawain explained, "because it doesn't involve some fat guy and cows."

"Reindeer," Darkness corrected him, "Father Christmas has reindeer."

"Whatever. Wild Hunt beats a dumb sleigh."

"I'm inclined to agree with you." Darkness stood up. "So I suppose we're celebrating Yule this year. What other traditions are there?"

Tilpin counted off on her fingers. "Log. Pork. Fire. Singing. Dancing. Games. And, oh yeah, alcohol."

"Ah, a festival we can all enjoy."

* * *

DeSean's hands were shoved deeply into his pockets as his breath misted in the air. He was standing on the balcony of his condo, overlooking a bleak winter landscape. Still no snow, but there was something in the air: a smell or a feeling. The sky looked grey and pregnant.

The door to the inside world was still open, and he could hear the TV blaring from within. It was the news. Apparently, Chicago was swarming with Darklings ahead of the show. He cast his mind back to his encounters with Darkness's fans a few months before and felt a shiver that he told himself was just the cold air down his spine. He wasn't looking forward to walking into an arena full of those creeps – least of all in a match against their hero.

All the political stuff on the news was just as dire. What he couldn't get used to was TCW getting mentioned alongside the war in Iraq and the economy as political buzzwords. The new President was going to clean everything up, or destroy the planet in a ball of fire and, apparently, TCW was in the middle of it. How crazy was that? He just wanted to be a wrestler, not some figure on the world stage. He knew whose fault it all was.

His phone rang. It took him a second to place the sound, he was so lost in his thoughts. The ringtone was offensively loud in the still, silent air and he fumbled in his jeans pocket for a second to get his cell out.

"Yo."

"Hey, buddy."

DeSean relaxed at the familiar sound of his tag partner's voice. "Hey, Matt. What's up?"

"Oh you know. Holiday stuff. Family."

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah, pretty much. I'll tell you all about it in Chicago."

"Speaking of which...you check out the news?"

"Not really. What's going on?"

"Remember Buenos Aries?"

"Hard to forget."

"Well all the freaks are out again. The Darkness Army is in town, and we gotta walk into it at Friction."

"I think we'll get our share of cheers too. It isn't as clear cut as the Hellfire kids think it is. Don't sweat it."

DeSean laughed. "As if I would. So why'd you call? Just to talk?"

"Nah – I don't like you that much. I was thinking about when we got to Chicago that's all. We're both gonna be carrying a little Holiday weight – I dunno about you, but I don't have any gym time scheduled this week."

"No, me neither. I guess we'll have some catching up to do, right?"

"Right. I'm not planning to lose this match, DeSean. Not after what I said. While you and me are celebrating, you can bet Darkness is gonna have his mind on that match."

"I guess there's a few advantages to living your gimmick."

"Well yeah. But I'm not giving up the turkey and presents to win a match, let's put it like that."

"Hey, this is what it's all about, man. We don't have to play his game."

"Yeah. Hey, look, I gotta go, dude. You're probably busy anyway."

"Ehh...not so much. Busy Christmas though."

"Me too. Hey, what do you think Darkness is doing for the holidays?"

"Probably just sitting on his own writing goth poetry or something. Or hanging around on a roof sharpening his sword."

"Rather him than me. Anyway, I was going. Take care, man. I'll see you in Chicago."

"Yeah."

"And, hey, have a good Christmas, DeSean."

"Thanks, Matt. You too."

"Later."

* * *

"Brrr." Freya rubbed her arms as she stamped her feet. "Stupid Chicago. Why did we come here again?"

Gwen shrugged. "Blame your boss."

"Can't they at least put some bloody heating on in this hotel?"

She, Gwen, Lir, Hruod and Huon were all gathered outside the door to Darkness's hotel suite. It had been a long flight from New York, and the events in Central Park had not left them in a good mood.

"Knock again," Lir said.

"Oh, they probably aren't even here yet," Freya moaned.

"Well I can smell them..."

"I can smell a lot of stuff. Has someone been growing mistletoe around here or something?"

"Maybe someone put it up for Yule," Huon shrugged.

"Oh god, I forgot about Yule. Worst time of year."

"Why?" Gwen asked.

"Because of my fucking family. Ugh. If I never see another sprig of holly it'll be too soon."

Suddenly the door opened and Darkness stood there. He was wearing a Santa hat.

"Holy fuck, what have you got on your head?"

"It's a Christmas...uh...a Yule hat."

"There's no such thing as a Yule hat." Freya reached up to snatch it off, but he dodged and fled into the suite. The remaining werewolves piled in and were confronted with a scene of absolute carnage.

"What's all this stuff?" Gwen kicked at the packaging that littered the floor.

"Everyone forgot to get Yule gifts," Gawain explained from the sofa where he was slouched with a glass of something, "so Darkness took us shopping."

"What did you buy?" Lir asked.

"I have no idea. I guess we'll find out tomorrow when we're sober."

"Argh, the fumes are stinging my nose," Freya said, waving her hand, "how much have you all had?"

"Room service!" Galadd yelled, clinking two glasses containing different liquids together. He proceeded to take a sip from each.

"Oh bloody hell. Pour me something then, you stupid twats."

"How was it on the indies?"

One of the trainees asked him the question while DeSean stood in the middle of the ring surrounded by a bunch of wide eyed grown men excited to see a name guy who "made" it.

DeSean: "It was....it was fun actually, I can't explain it but it was mixture of emotions there's that saying that you don't really know what you have until it's gone and the indies apply to that. If you're an sucessful, name guy then it's fun. You set your own rates, you wrestle where you want, how you want pretty much. At the same time, it was frustrating, you want to move on to bigger things you wonder why you're not getting the WWE scouts to notice you, why TCW hasn't returned your calls. If you're me, you're an asshole who damn near burned every bridge he was on."

The trainees all share an uneasy laugh as DeSean jokes but his words were true looking out that ring he could see not everyone was going to make it, a lot of them wouldn't even last a year those who did maybe one or two of them would even make it to a ROH or PWG.

DeSean: "Please don't be like me guys and piss off every promoter and wrestler out there, you gotta eat and you'll never know when you'll need someone. When I realized the world didn't revolve around me, I started to repair my working relationships and that took me a while to do so yea don't do that. Next question?"

"What's your favorite match?"

DeSean: "Me vs Matt Strikmore for the TC title at Aperiophobia, um...the match against Freya the Iron Man match since I won and a lot of people thought I would lose. Me and Shadow winning the Tag titles from the MVC, Me and Matt vs Freya/Hawthorne for the Tag titles. Some other ones Me and Marcus Jones vs Roderick Strong/Jack Evans. I had some singles matches against CM Punk and Samoa Joe that I'm pretty proud of. Some matches against Austin Aries. I was apart of a 10 man tag in PWG that I had so much fun being apart of, that was one of the few times that the Masters of Disaster all tagged together in one match. So many to go through, I've worked with a lot of great talent, you know AJ Styles, Low Ki, Alex Shelley, Chris Sabin Pac, El Generico, Kevin Steen, Human Tornado, Scorpio Sky, Arrogance, MVP, Infinity, KENTA, Marifuji, Steve Corino, Evan Bourne, Krissy Vaine, Mickey James, the Briscoes, Nigel McGuinness, Elijah Burke, Eddie Guerrero, Chris Hero, Claudio Castagnoli, Colt Cabana, Homicide too many people to name hell Raven, Terry Funk, Rachel Hunter, Shaun Bisley, PD the list goes on. Shit I could go all night."

There's a pause after DeSean spoke, he looks deep in thought as he has warm memories of the past, a smirk comes across his face as there were some funny drunken moments involving some of those names. Before he could go one, Ric caught his attention about another question.

"How's the backstage atmosphere in TCW?"

DeSean: It's um....it's for the most part friendly I guess you could say. It's different I'll say that, the matches are different, people aren't working together to put on a good match, to tell a story, we're going in there to kick each other asses so you have to go in there with that atttitude. Some feelings get hurt and people take things seriously, some people are clicky they're off in their own little world believing in their own hype but I think that's going to change soon.
. Sensing this Ric decides to adjourn the session and stop DeSean from putting his foot in his mouth.

Converse: Look guys, I'm sure DeSean has a busy schedule ahead of him and we have work to do so let's just give him an hand for stopping by.

Before he could react, the class started to clap with Ric's urging DeSean again shook hands and waved goodbye, leaving the gym he took a deep breath and headed back towards his car. Once he stepped inside he began making his calls.

DeSean: Hey Nana, it's DeSean....I'm fine just got in. I'll be over there sometime today, how's Papa? That's good but I'll be over there later today, ok love you bye. After getting off the phone with his grandma, he overheard an ad on the radio that mentioned the various clubs throwing parties for the holidays, he figured he would go out somewhere he knew his younger cousin would want to go with out with him, though he didn't feel like going out to some 18 and up club with a bunch of teenagers. Then again the N-club was 18 and up and he always wanted to go there now that he was famous so he could tell the wannabe Studio 54 to kiss his ass. For now he was going to head to his place and finally sleep in his own bed and not worry about a maid bothering him.
..........................................

Fast forward to Christmas day

Ooh Doop doop, doop doo doop Ooh Doop doop, doop doo doopi

It's Thursday, Dec 25 there's no show, no promos to worry about and really no set time for a meeting yet, he's up at 8 AM. Why? Because it's Christmas and even though he's no longer 7 years old, he still turns into a giddy little kid on Christmas. So much so that he woke up early breaking his vow not to while on vacation. In fact he's so happy that he's in his robe lip synching his favorite christmas song even though it was 60+ degrees outside and sunny, global warming is a myth my ass.

I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know
Just like the ones I used to know, Where those treetops glisten, and children listen,
To hear sleigh bells in the snow, the snow.

DeSean struts to the bathroom timing eah step with the lyrics

Then, I-I-I am dreaming of a white Christmas, With every Christmas card I write,
With every Christmas card I write, May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright, And may all your Christmases be white.

He looks into the medicine cabinet and grabs his razor and shaving cream, he trims his facial hair while still singing, pretending his voice goes really high.

I-I-I am dreaming of a white Christmas,
Just like the ones I used to know,
Where the treetops glisten, and children listen,
To hear sleigh bells in the snow.

On the last line, he slides into the living room with an invisible mic in his hand, then does two steps forward and backward for the next line.

I-I-I am dreaming of a white Christmas,
With every Christmas card I write,

He switches his voice to go deeper again.

May your days, may your days, may your days be merry and bright,

He then stops and closes his eyes putting a lot of soul into it.

And may all your Christmases be white.
Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle bells all the way.
Ooooh.

After the song finishes he actually pretends that there are applauses for his "performance" soaking in all the adulation.

DeSean: Thank you all! Thank you I appreciate it, no you're too kind....damn I'm tired.

*Ring Ring*

Hearing the phone ring, he walks over to it and answers it expecting it to be his Mom to wish him a merry Christmas. Instead it was someone else.

DeSean: Hello?

The voice on the other end is a voice he hadn't heard in a while , it was his best friend Jared who joined the Marines earlier in the year.

Jared: Hey DeSean it's Jared what's up?

DeSean: Oh shit man what's up! How the hell have you been?

Jared: Been pretty good man, just got back into town like last night.

DeSean: That's great man, I just got in like a week ago so I've been making the rounds, we're having dinner at my parents house at 2 so if you want to stop by you can.

Jared: Sure thing man, I'll stop by there.

DeSean: Well I'll see you there then.

Jared: All right man, bye

DeSean: Bye

He hung up the phone and started to get dressed with the TV playing in the background on a music channel he wasn't really pay much attention to. He pulled out a shirt and a pair of jeans and laid them neatly on his bed, while he could hear an interview going on with it being Christmas, it was a repeat of a previous episode.

<i>We're here with Professional wrestler and musician Eddie Isley, right now here's a clip of how Eddie prepares before he sings.</i>

DeSean: Oh not again, the motherfucker is not joking people!

The clip goes to Eddie in the studio, preparing with headphones on his head and standing in front of the mic while some music plays in the background.

<i>Eddie: (talking before he sings_ All right let's go, pump the bass up. Yea crank the beat up, put the trebel up. Pump it the *beep* up, I need more volume in my headphones. Alright let's go let's do this. Wait give me some more T-Pain, yea that AutoTuner *beep*. The remix. We make the people say yeaaa. Hold on, hold up. More AutoTuner, a lot more.</i>

Eddies voice is so altered that he's barely recognizable and the music is so high that he's barely audible. DeSean shakes his head while he gathers his stuff. He steps outside on the balcony and looks up at the sky. Though it seemed like things were coming together something was just off about the day, another calm before the storm so to speak. It was so weird just being there, it almost felt unreal how everything has gone his way so far since he's been home, at that moment while he stands on that balcony and takes a deep breath of the clean fresh air, it separated him from the rest of the bullshit in his life, even if it was for a second he felt free, free from all the matches, the confines of the ring, no corrupt President-Elects or pupper Government officials, no Valerie Stern, no wrestlers, no matches, no fans. no New Hellfire Club, nothing at all. And as he exhaled that entire feeling in an instant was gone, as he opened the eyes he was back where he was in his condo, standing on a balcony.
.........................................

It's December 27th on a Saturday night, the streets of Greensboro are lit up with various cars driving back and forth filled with passengers and drivers looking for something to do. DeSean noticed how the city was trying to build the nightlife up, though it was still lacking in certain aspects though not bad for a mid size city. He's seen worse before.

Jared: So where we going?

DeSean: To Hooters, they're showing the UFC fights.

Jared: Cool, why is traffic so heavy?

DeSean: I dunno, Hooters is always packed when they show the fights but I've never seen it this full before.

DeSean pulled into the parking lot and was forced to parallel park on a hill, something he didn't want to do. As they became closer to the restaurant, it became pretty apparent to both them just how many people were really there and they didn't have to enter the restaurant to find out.

Jared: I wonder where we're going to eat?

DeSean: I know you've been gone but I don't think you realize how much clout we both have. I'm a celebrity and you serve in the armed forces. Trying to track Osama Bin Laden.

Jared: I'm still living in a dorm taking classes.

DeSean: Yea well I'm still a celebrity, I snap my fingers shit happens.

Jared: Yea that's not going to piss people off those who have been waiting forever.

DeSean: They"ll get over it, now I want to remind you that I'm going to get recognized, our meal might not be the most peaceful but I want to see this fight without ordering it and I like hot chicks wearing tight outfits. Just keep cool and stay patient.

Jared: I'm always patient, I'll be OK.

DeSean: Good, So let's head up.

They both walked towards the entrance, near the entrance is a deck that has TV's lined up on the wall. People were sitting there watching the PPV as DeSean braced himself for the inevitable mark to recognize him, someone wouldn't disappoint him, as he heard that familiar shout.

Female fan:"Oh, Oh, wow, it's...it's....it's...."

"Spit it out." DeSean muttered to himself while walking,

Female: It's Vladimir Kozlov!

DeSean: Wait...what?

DeSean looked as the big Russian from the WWE walked on the deck wearing street clothes but still looking a little menacing. Behind Kozlov was MVP who looked to be in a hurry to get to their table. Behind MVP was...

DeSean: Brian Kendrick, Funaki..what the fuck is going on here?

Jared: Yea you're really known, people recognize you instantly.

DeSean: Whatever, it's because we've been out of the country for too damn long. Smackdown and ECW must have had a show tonight. There's a bunch of them. Edge. Jeff Hardy, Hurricane Helms, Ezekiel, Carlito, Primo, I see Maria's fine ass. Eve, that announcer dude, Ron Killings.

Jared: Who's the fine ass chick with the blonde streaks in her hair?

DeSean: Velvet Sky from TNA, Helm's girlfriend, The Big Show is in there damn nearly everyone from the roster is here, even Kizarny. DeSean and his best friend stood outside Hooters staring into the window from a distance, they watch as a crowd began to form around the WWE guys (And TNA chick) They watchd as Jeff Hardy started signing autographs and taking pictures. They walked towards the restuarant those who paid attention realized who DeSean was got the attention of those around them the sound of flashes going off in cameras could be heard as both men walked into the resturant. They ignored everyone around him as they made a bee line straight to the "wrestling table"

DeSean: So you guys are the ones who taking all of my glory?

ALL: DeSean!

DeSean: What's up yall, this is my friend Jared.

They both shook hands and aknowledged the entire table as MVP motioned for two more chairs as they both sat down.

DeSean: I didn't know you guys were in town.

Edge: We had an house show tonight then we'll be on vacation from here on out.

DeSean: We're on a vacation too until after New Year, we have a show in Chicago then after we're in China.

Maria: China?

DeSean: Yea

MVP: China, as in the country?

DeSean: Yes that China, the place filled with a billion Chinese.

Jeff: Is wrestling even popular in China?

DeSean: Apparently we're breaking new ground there, the majority owner is Chinese.

Kendrick: Well you guys won't be gone long, what a week tops maybe?

DeSean: No Kendrick, we'll be gone indefinitely...yea. So you guys can have your North American measely market, we'll have our Asian market we won't have to worry about the popular and traditional Puro promotions, competing with them or the fact that China has no built in wrestling fanbase, no we'll gladly take the Asian market.

Though he wasn't a drinker, DeSean picked up his bottle of Budweiser and just downed it. It tasted like water down piss but he drank it like it was a shot.

Jared: I guess I'm driving.

Sky: I can sense the sarcasm in your voice

DeSean: It sucks, I'm among peers right? This stays at this table right?

Carlito: Yea of course

Helms: Go ahead

Primo: You can trust us man.

DeSean: All right good, we've been overseas for months on end and that's fine but the circumstances of why we're never in the US pisses me off. MacDonald the prick that he is coming after Pro Wrestling but the difference is that the WWE, TNA, the UFC no fear you guys are all doing your thing. We on the other hand we have to leave the country because the cheating bastard is targeting TCW not just for the style which is a legit shoot style but because of our content. We're not sanctioned by an athletic commission so strike one, strike two the big stable are a bunch of freaks, a bunch of goths with devilish overtones and a World Champion that has a legit cult following.

Edge: I don't know how your contract, you ever think about just leaving?

DeSean: I can't leave, well I could but I can't. I don't hate TCW I want to see it succeed but the only way to do that is by being the champion, there are others who feel the same way I do.

Everyone at the table got quiet as DeSean looked deathly serious, he picked up another beer and chugged it afterwards he slammed it down. He stared back at everyone.

DeSean: What?

Fan: Hey can I get a picture of all you guys, all at once?

All of them turned around and positioned themselves for a picture, DeSean leaned in closer to Maria, faking a smile he put he threw up a peace sign. The fan snapped a picture with his digital camera and went on his merry after thanking everyone. He looked down at the image on his digital camera.

"Perfect" he thought to himself. His wrestling buddies are going to be so jealous but first he's going to post it on his Myspace.

.................................

DeSean: DeSean's opening the door, to his condo and his walking right on in and he throws down his keys on the table and he unzips his jacket, right there on the sofa, then he parks on his ass on the couch and cuts on his HDTV.

For some reason Tom's Diner is stuck in his head, so DeSean narrates himself to the beat of the music.

DeSean: DeSean's condoooo.

"Tiffany's been here the whole time. You didn't notice her, don't be alarmed, I'm not here to hurt you, I didn't break in. I have a key remember?"

DeSean turned around and saw his ex girlfriend sitting at the dining room table, legs crossed she stares at DeSean with a smirk on her face, while pulling back on her long brown hair.

DeSean: How long have you been here?

Tiffany: 30 minutes

DeSean: You sat here in the Darkness? The whole time?

Tiffany: No, I watched some TV then I grabbed something to eat...from your fridge of course.

DeSean: Yes of course.

Tiffany: Then I sat here to scare the shit out of you except you were singing Tom's Diner and not paying attention at all. I should be asking you the same question. Why haven't I heard from you? Danville. VA is 45 minutes away from here. You could have stopped by, instead I have to hear on the radio that you're in town.

DeSean: I didn't want to um....shit. I dunno, I didn't think you wanted to see me and I thought we were finished. I'm sorry and I really do miss you.

Tiffany: I missed you too.

Tiffany stood up and hugged DeSean she pressed her lips against his and they started kissing, an warmth feeling started to overtake DeSean's body but it was quickly gone as Tiffany pulled away.

Tiffany: We can't, I can't. I can't do this, not now.

DeSean: Why not?

Tiffany: Because I've changed. I've changed, I've matured and I don't want to regress to my old self. TCW the business period changed me for the worst. I lost the big picture, I was a total bitch. I was conceited, shallow, self-absorbed.

DeSean: You were never those things.

Tiffany: Yes I was, DeSean when we broke up I had an obsession of you. I wanted to hurt you, I did everything in my power to make you jealous, to make you suffer and it almost overtook me. I had to leave, I had to get out. And you had to take a break too remember? It wasn't just about your contract but you were tired, burnt out. You didn't like what you were becoming so you left and when you came back. I watched and I saw how much you changed for the better and I fell in love with you again but I see you talking about winning the world title and that's great but I see the obsession in your eyes. I know how you are, you'll let this goal cosume you and I don't want to be there to see it.

DeSean: Tiffany just give me some time and everything will be fine for the better. I know what I'm doing is right. trust me.

Tiffany: I do trust you, I trust you believe you're doing the right thing and I think you are. Just don't blind yourself with ambition. Promise me you'll do this the right way?

DeSean: I promise you.

Tiffany: Thanks

Tiffany gave DeSean a light kiss on the forehead before she walked out, she turned to him and sadly said.

Tiffany: I'll see you around DeSean.

DeSean somberly replied back.

DeSean: No...you won't.

Tiffany nodded her head indicating that she understood and quietly closed the door behind her, enclosing him in the darkness. He quickly turned on a lamp to give the condo some light, The bulb might have been small but like he and Matt it represented the light that overcame the Darkness like he and Matt were going to be TCW's shining light. TCW was going to be without Darkness whether they liked it or not.