"Hatred cannot overcome hatred,
through love alone can hatred be overcome."
— Buddha.

As if her heart stopped, Rebecca's hand automatically projected onto her chest just to make sure that her vital organ hadn't completely shut down.

"It's 3:15 am, is that too late for you to love me back?"

What his words detonated was far more worse than a heart-attack, it was her heart going up in flames as it slowly shattered into a million pieces at just the recollection of all the pain once endured without him by her side.

All while he achieved fame and glory in Japan, she laid in a bed miserable and in agony, resenting him with every new complication that sprung in that hospital room on a rainy night.

In trying to give life,
she nearly lost her own.

The pain that came with fighting for her life as well as his was the most agony Rebecca had ever felt, and it wasn't even worth the struggle.

No amount of pain suffered in the ring compared to the image of staring into a replica of Fergal's own blue eyes, lifeless.

That night nearly ceased Rebecca to exist when she grabbed the suture surgery blade with determination to stain the hospital bed with her blood.

Had it not been for an 18 year old Saraya Jade Bevis interfering, Rebecca Quin would have made it on to the other side.

At the time, the guided interference of Saraya was a misfortune to Becky, but now, it's nothing but a fortune.

In many ways, it is true that without Fergal Devitt there would be no Becky Lynch. Yet, without Rebecca Quin's heart beat and veins pulsing through her blood, there would have never been a Becky Lynch.

The crippling hands of survival coat Becky with armor, forcing the Irish Lass into protecting her heart by avoiding any left remnants of a spark once fueled by Fergal.

For days Becky felt selfish, almost resentful of Finn despite her heart imploding for a breach of connection with the Irish Man. Deep inside her heart, Rebecca now knew that in leaving, she'd blow her bridges down.

The bridge she constantly walks through, feeling the weight of guilt that shouts at her for acting so selfishly. True selflessness is sacrificing what one loves the most, and in letting go, the pain kicks in, but the clarity is plain to see —

life goes on.

With or without him, life will go on. Time will not stop for the Irish Lass and as the digital clock in the car's radio ticks by, both souls grow tense to the point of frustration.

From the Irish Man's perspective, his head goes round and round awaiting for an answer. His heart feels cheated out of love, always sought after but never by the woman that ultimately rules his aching organ.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, Rebecca turns to acknowledge Finn's burning glare with equal intensity.

"Pull over."

The words register in his mind, but at the thought of losing her, the King Demon ignores her request. Stepping on the gas pedal, Becky whips back and frantically looks around, feeling a surge of danger kick in.

Although she normally greets danger with eagerness, Becky can't help but to feel an emotion she tries to kill — fear.

With the sky so dark and the early morning hours dawning on the time of the wicked, the fear of the dark creeps into her bones and leaves her unsettled. The bewitching hour is approaching, and Becky knows best that it's always at 3am that all demons come out to play.

No stranger to his demons, the true terror lies in the fact that Fergal's never seen her dark side.

A flicker of light beams on Rebecca's face, the city lights brightly burning as they cruise through a strip of restuarants and hotels.

"If you don't pull over—

"You'll what?"

Fergal snaps, feeling the vein in his forehead pulse as he grips onto the steering wheel harder. The animosity alone sparks Rebecca to act in silence. As her knuckles turn pale from clutching onto the car handle so hard, a wicked thought crosses her mind.

If he's to put her life at stake with a reckless velocity, what's to say she can't put his own life at a compromise with death?

Distracted by her hand gently resting on his thigh, Becky acts defiantly and pulls the steering wheel to her side. A few seconds too late, both Irish Natives whip forward as the brakes fail to work fast enough to prevent the collision into a massive tree.

Their heads whip into the head board, Fergal automatically worried about Rebecca until she opens the passenger door without ever even checking up on him.

Slowed down by the impact of the crash, Fergal limps out the door, staring at the orange haired woman with disbelief.

Coated with hatred and acting recklessly, Finn questions where she's gone.

Who is she?

"What is wrong with you?"

Indignant, Fergal catches up to Rebecca, commanding answers as the two lock eyes in a heated stare down.

Facing the entrance of a hotel, the two could care less about the wandering eyes. "You don't get to walk out on me again."

Her words pierce his already wounded heart, driving him to a depressive state. "You think it was easy for me?"

His words register in her mind, but all Becky can muster is the few steps up the hotel entrance. Apathetic, Becky turns all emotions off as she looks back to briefly face him.

"don't tell me your bullshit.

I don't want your lies."

"you'll never have me,
& I'll never have you."

"it's meant to be."

From a few steps down, Fergal stands there motionless. His heart beats with life, but all he feels is pain. The kingdom he's built and stored with the most beautiful of memories containing all fragments of the true love she once gave him crumble down. The castle goes up in flames and as she takes the final step, all that's left is ashes and dust.

Gathering in the ashes, another blue eyed soul witnesses a love gone awry. To his understanding, in cutting ties with a demon in her back, the Irish Lass has thrown everything she's ever known away.

Perceived as stone cold and inhumane, Rebecca plays the part to perfection as she fools the witness alibi Dean Ambrose and Fergal Devitt.

Knocking down two birds with one stone nearly broke her will, but in seeing a third blue eyed intruder look at the spectacle with eyes that have unknowingly just been inducted in Becky's harsh schemes that no one see's coming, Rebecca wins.

If she's to be looked on as a monster, then so be it. Let it all be for the sake of running through the fire and coming out holding all the answers.

If the players try to one up her with answers and clarity, she'll change the questions and skew the field.

The road ahead will be tough, but nothing in her life has come easy. Protected with a shield, there are just some battles that one must face alone.

This is her battle.

Thrown back by her words but not yet defeated, Rebecca balls her hands up as Fergal's persistence kicks in when he reaches out for her wrist.

Her mind becomes an orchestrated asylum, different demons raging for anarchy. She never meant to hurt him, but if violence is the only way to get her point across to him, then so be it.

Stunned, Ambrose gasps as the Irish Lass heartlessly shoves Fergal away with such brutality that the Irish Man stumbles down to the ground, shaken.

In his eyes, true defeat register as Rebecca looms over him.

Void of softness, any traces of the old Rebecca are gone with the wind blowing in her hair.

As if dead souls from the ground arose to pull the Irish Lass down, Becky's footsteps feel heavy as she walks away. For once, the demons play nice and harvest over her soul as they patch up the wounds and ease the damage.

Even more heart breaking than the sudden corrupted change in the Irish Lass is the defeat in Fergal Devitt as he walks away into the darkness, broken.

Dean glances at Fergal who looks back at a Rebecca that's already in doors, unharmed and not looking back.

Blue eyes connect, two souls mourning for the death of Becky Lynch. As the Demon King prevails into a negative mindset, the Lunatic Fringe's heart refuses to accept the change.

In his heart, the only way to cope with her drastic change is that it's all a facade. Shades of his former brother coated the Irish warrior, but even Ambrose knows that a soul as tainted as Rollins's black heart can feel.

Little cracks show every so often, revealing his true nature.

He doesn't want to hurt Ambrose, but he does.

To Dean, what counts is the initial intention, the origins of who someone once used to be.

Bursting into the hotel without a care in the world of who looks on, the psycho resident of the WWE pursues Lynch down a hallway.

Even when her strut slows down and her shoulders graze against the wall as if leaning on from the exhaustion can Ambrose not manage to inflict hate towards Lynch.

If heartless is what she wants to be, then the exact opposite he'll have to be. Hatred cannot combat hatred, only love can.

"Hey."

His voice comes in rugged and warm as he rushes to her aid, holding her up as Becky reaches her room. "Go away!" She shouts, viciously striking his face with not one, but two back handed slaps.

An angel pitted against a devil, the two frown at one another. Had it been a few years back, his demons would have gotten the worse of him.

But people can change.

"Just because you're angry doesn't mean you have the right to be cruel." He speaks. His tone is so soft and his eyes so hurt that at the sight of an aching Dean Ambrose, Becky feels her armor cracking.

Opening the gateway into her personal hell before she's exposed as a phony, Becky hurriedly chooses to retreat.

"This isn't who you are!" Ambrose shouts, raising his voice and practically screaming behind Becky's ear as the Irish woman struggles with the key pad on her door.

"Shut up!"

Becky hisses, turning the handle and rapidly falling inside the hotel room. Acting quickly as the armor begins to wear off, Rebecca shuts the door right in his face as she rests her back against the barrier between her and the Lunatic Fringe.

Immersed in total darkness, the tears flow out of her eyes. With her hand against her mouth, Rebecca hopes on all her stars that any whimper or sob goes on unheard by the psycho outside her door.

When her eyes grow so weary and heavy, her head rests against her knees that she pulls up to her chest. Alone and in total darkness, sleep comes her way until it's stolen by a merciless soul that refuses to give up on the once brightest flame of the WWE.

"You don't fool me."

His words a taunt, haunting her mind. Becky slowly crawls away from the door, a literal slave to the night as she finds refuge by the sliding glass doors that lead towards the balcony.

Looking up at the soft moon light, resentment burns in her bones. With the stars coating the sky, Rebecca wishes she could lose her memory.

Yet, life never gives her what she wants. All that's left in her darkest hour is the ever growing sensation of self-hatred.

AUTHOR'S NOTES

you guys,
our baby becky balboa is the first ever wwe smackdown women's champ!
if that doesn't make you happy,
what is wrong with you?

a) becky holding that new belt will be incorporated
b) so will finn's injury
c) dean will become a very important character as will styles / seth.

on a more serious note, the next chapter will contain a rather dark topic and i in no way wish becky / finn any harm. i'm just a dramatic twisted soul that had to incorporate this to make the story flow the way i wanted. i'll explain the, "lifeless eyes" portion better next chapter in case you already haven't.

i love you all!

x o , v i o l e t .