_____We'll stumble through Heaven...

Tension reaches the pinnacle in the Guerrilla's position. A couple of matches already got out of control to Vince's grandest pleasure and Shane's biggest concern. Everyone in the back is stuck in between two distinct feelings: the breathtaking pride of being a Wrestlemania's part and the utter worry of ending the night on a stretcher.

Sasha Banks stands in front of the curtains, shaking off the stress the biggest highlight of her career ignites mixed with the increasing fear Sami's condition brings up. She hopelessly tries to clear up her mind, the crowd's chants invading her mind each time and fueling the hurricane's wrath inside her head.

Until doubters' words hit her brain and silent it all, recalling this is her moment and she's out there to prove it.

Down the ramp the energy the fans are giving her is practically palpable as they're already screaming at the top of their lungs the words she craved hearing her entire life:

"This is wrestling."

Not only is she ready to make History and walk out the newly crowned champion, even if it means she has to leave the arena with broken arms and injured legs, but it's also her first official opportunity to pay tribute to her hero: Eddie Guerrero.

Just the thought of his memory and how much he's done for her throughout the years warms up her darken soul. His inspiration pushed Banks to the limits, forcing her to silent the rumours and criticisms along the way.

She still remembers watching 2004's No Way Out most anticipated encounter involving an unyielding Beast, a Latino Heat, a coveted golden object and an impact changing the course of a young girl's life forever.

Wearing a similar gear brings back her old emotional self, constraining Banks to swallow her tears, focusing on her unmatching desire which is melting inside a mess of rage and passion.

The sight of the new WWE Womens' Championship strangely seems familiar to her, as if she envisioned all along it'd be hers and now that she's standing inches apart from it, she definitely can confirm it's not just an impression: it's a fact.

Becky, Charlotte and her collectively changed the game, turning the usual bathroom break into matches that would bring anyone to the edge of their seat, asking for more.

Tonight's is about legacy , about showing who truly is the best out of the 4Hoursewomen and whose path was actually the most judicious, leading directly to the prize.

If the entire world don't fall off of the roller-coaster these types of events can be, especially when they happen under the Devil's watch himself, they're about to find out.

_________

A battle of hearts begun and what can be assured is that it won't be pretty.

While Becky and Sasha are near the commentary's desk, exchanging fists and stringing together counters after counters it allows Charlotte to pull herself to the apron. Baby Flair nails a nice Moonsault on Becky and Sasha which provokes, for probably the first time since her call-up, a huge pop in the Universe who cheers her, praising the perfectly executed move.

No denial she has a heart of a champion.

Too bad her reign comes to an end tonight.

All three competitors manages to drag themselves back into the ring, each crawling towards the others to hopefully get the upper hand. Charlotte is the first to strike as she chops both Becky and Sasha repeatedly whilst her father's shouting "Woos" at ringside, causing both the women to become dizzy. There is no quit in neither the former NXT friends as they occasionally let go meaningful roars at Char's face.

Once they finally get back on their own two feet, Banks feels her cage ribs torn apart before she ungracefully meets the rough canvas, wringing in pain. The Bostons pride never shifts her attention from the other two, even though she's battling against herself not to cry out of pain.

An opening ultimately presents itself and she sucks it up, rushing towards the corner to attempt a Double suplex off the top rope, her old alliance with Becky momentarily coming back to life.

But just like their previous one, it doesn't last too long.

Charlotte's in jeapordy, not even moving the smallest muscle, and the perfect chance for either Banks or Lynch to capitalize comes around. Except both fall down to their knees and go for the pin, quickly realizing they may think more alike than they both ever imagined.

Banks aggressively yells at the Irish woman face while pushing her, throwing her off her balance for a bit. "Who do you think you are ? You wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for me, you're nothing!"

But the nothing turns into gasoline and gloriously ignites in a Corner Exploder Suplex, provoking an extremely bad landing for Sasha onto the ropes before rolling down on the cold floor.

"I'm Becky freaking Lynch!" Shades of NXT echo through Banks' pounding ears, except this time this is not an act. Becky's not selling any kind of storyline, it's simply her soul responding to the disrespect she's suffered for so long.

The Universe goes insane at Becky's maneuver and as of this moment, her motivation knows no bound. She marches around the squared circle, seemingfully convinced this is her time to shine, until Charlotte catches her with a weird roll-up before transitioning it into the Figure 4.

Nonetheless the blonde one takes complete advantage of the energy Becky used to get out of the pin earlier, salivating at the damages she's about to cause on her, though she can't get all of it since Charlottes left arm is still suffering from the submission hold previously applied by Lynch.

Banks hears Charlottes' untolerable voice shouting at Lynch to tap and drags herself on the top rope with difficulty, pulling out one final and desperate attempt to hit the Frog Splash she never could realize properly before.

She's counting on her wings to suddenly push through and help her reach the holy grail, praying she won't bust herself open just like in her indie days.

Time roughly stops and Sasha feels like she's spending ages flying through the thick air, finally connecting with Charlotte before rushing for a pin. Taste of her dream is now so close from her reach but frustration starts building up as Ric's distracting the referee, both her fists meeting the harsh map to let go of the anger.

This old freak would not cause her the biggest chance she's ever had and to make sure of that, she rolls out and shoves him down, spitting out evey ounce of hatred she's been holding on.

Little does she know yet another parasite is about to poison her veins.

Rollins' view increases her wrath as she distinguishes his silhouette casually walking down the ramp, livid and vengeful at the fact he isn't booked for this years WM. From what she could gather Vince was pissed at him for all the wrestlers he has injured, potential main-eventers calibers being in the mix. Their absence meant less money in his pocket and therefore it was bad for business.

"You can be sure that after Mania everyone will be talking about Seth Rollins!" Overall it appears logical to Seth that, since Banks stole the spotlight he righfully deserved, he needed to give her a shot from her own medicine.

Her rage towards him is almost hypnotic as she loses herself in the thick ocean of madness, the hard hitting reality check quick to come back around.

The bell rings, Lynchs Theme is heard in the AT&T Stadium and disbelief is written all over Sasha's features whilst the disastrous scene occur to her.

Becky is still holding on the Dis-Arm-Her whilst locking eyes with Banks, not even sure if she's trying to convince the entire world she just prove them wrong or simply herself - she never thought such precious moment would come her way.

Out of instincts she still crawls back into the ring, her competitive nature not allowing her to give up so easily and watch once more somebody else tasting glory whilst her mouth is only filled with bitterness.

But it's already over and when Lynch's fingers grasp the golden prize, she finally realizes there is nothing left to do. Her heavy head rests on the bottom turnbuckle whilst she absent-mindedly stares at the unfair scene. It seems absolutely impossible for her to even imagine walking out of Wrestlemania without the title above her soulder, let alone do the slightest of move.

Becky's face radiates out of pride, her hopes ultimately meet and each sacrifice she's made thus far worth it.

Leaving her home to travel around the world and missing every opportunity to see her love ones hurt her but most importantly built her up. Each disappointment and betrayal she's suffered all these years overall made her unstoppable. All her wrestling experience, the high highs and the low lows, all wrapped up in a bubble of emotions blowing up for the biggest achievement of her entire life.

For the first time in ages, Banks observes a truly ecstatic woman. Not the puns' droper character but the actual human being behind the ton of make-up and masquerades: Rebecca.

The irony of the situation is that the one who welcomed her with open arms and cheer admiration for her talent the day she got signed, Becky's former sister and biggest competition, the one who swore they'll always support each other is possibly the one who envies Lynch the most.

Sasha envies the Irish wrestler's purity, the fact she never changed who she was to make it to the top and that her endless kindness isn't her biggest weakness but her major strenght. Banks couldn't be more jealous of the fact Becky succeeded with a golden heart where Sasha miserably failed with a black soul, her tremendous efforts to put on such a lifeless exterior simply useless in the end.

But what infuriates the Boston native the most is how freely Lynch blinds her horryfic thoughts, her innocent light so sincere and bright it silents her vengeful desires. Becky Lynch is an angel put on this Earth to save the depraved souls losing themselves along the road, the ones who fell from Heaven and cursed back at those still up there.

An arm extends towards a honourable opponent, the letters " R E S P E C T " shining through an immaculate and forgiving champion's eyes.

"Thank you." Barely escapes from Lynch's soft lips, showing the ultimate proof of her heart's goodness, meaning more in one whisper than a thousands words declaration. Because deep down, no matter the battles they've put each other through and the bruises they inherited from these, something crucial remained all along: their sisterhood.

Denial being easier to carry than exposing her true feelings, Banks choses a silent response as she holds on to the near ropes, slowly getting her fragile body back into motion. Both the competitors stand still, recalling countless memories shared together as they stare into each other's eyes.

"This is for that type of bullcrap you guys seriously paid for ?" The Reaper's haunting tone shatters yet one another cherished moment, stealing the spotlight at any occasion he gets. Rollins reposes on to the side of the French commentary's table, a microphone in his hand and bad intentions in his gaze. He just murdered Banks' heart but even though his hands are stained from her blood, it's not enough to satify his destruction's hunger.

The ingenuous expression on Lynchs face transformes in an extremely annoyed one whilst she rushes towards Seth's side, showing off her newly won jewel, half her body hanging between the top and second rope.

"Take good care of your title during your four days of reign, kid." The Mastermind is quick to retords, mocking Becky's achievement and adding she's nothing else than a placeholder until someone who is actually championship material comes up.

Whilst the referee screams at Becky not to get in Rollins' face, the Irish woman is fired up and eager to make him eat his words, suffocating in the process. "What are you gonna do ? Drop a pun on m-" Seth doesn't have the chance to finish his sentence as he's thrown above the announcers table, catching Banks' suicide dive through the ropes at full force, both bodies crashing onto the chairs and harsh barricades.

"You won't ruin my moment. This is my time, you hear me ?" The last oath of a worn out entity and a broken soul, her voice lowering more and more to end up fading away, effortlessly covered with the crowd's row. A lost kid blacks out of exhaustion beside her bitter rival, her last breath used to make an unforgettable statement.

__________

An impenetrable armour completely falls apart in the middle of a merciless war. It's like an impressive weight is crushing down on slow motion onto Sasha's heart, making it bleed in agony in the process, the drops of blood simply turned translucents and now coming out from her sad eyes.

Huddled up in a foetal position, the broken Boss is sobbing in rythm to her heartbeat as almost a panick attack is taking the best of her. The feeling she's been so used to survive to when she was just a kid, unable to find her place in such a troubled world, suddenly reappears.

Through the blurry cloud of tears a familiar figure appears, bursting inside her locked-up lockeroom in a bang, apparently unphased that he just stave a door. "Get the hell out of here." She attempts in screaming but only the first words come out properly, the rest mutters under her passive voice, the sorrow taking over like never before.

All the times she hold her emotions back finally came to a fever pitch, exploding in a rain of painful feelings, wrecking her soul endlessly as Mercedes' outpouring is clearly contrasting with Sasha Banks' emptiness.

Owens sits down beside her on the concret floor, a vacant look on his downhearted face. Both the wrestlers always believed in their lucky star and all they have to show now is an absent starry sky, the blue of the night matching the colour of their hearts.

Two Supertars have fallen from the skies, sadly admiring their dream escaping from their reach like a shooting star.

Two indisputable monsters demonstrate that they're still only human. Damageable, breakable and emotional human beings.

"I uh... I apologize for earlier. I've got carried away a bit." Kevin says in a muffled yet warm voice, still overwhelmed from the mixed feelings Wreslemania brought to him.

Ashamed at how pitiful she surely looks like, Banks covers up her face with her freil hands, incapable of facing Owens' regretful glance. He himself fights against the urge to analys Banks' features and evaluate how bad the psychological damages really are. Because if he was to do that, he would unleash his own deluge and join Sasha in her heartfelt lamentation.

Some have to hold on, carrying the heavy and fragile roof above their bare shoulders to enable others' survival and Owens is, in that precise moment, Banks' shelter.

The quiet is full of meaning and becomes more and more oppressive as time goes by, as if the four walls of the room are closing in, turning the atmosphere inside into a stifling one.

"I know you don't care but Emma's in her banshee mode and she's looking for Rollins. She'll kill him with her daggers look like you taught her." To break the unbearable silence, the Canadian wrestler softly voices while scratching his nose, mimicking the blonde's habit when nervous or annoyed, in a useless attempt to cheer Banks up.

Her fingers finally leave her face, slightly disformed because of how much tears have rolled down her cheeks in such a short amount of time, meeting the side of her chest as if it would prevent her heart from racing any faster. "I've been dreaming about this my whole life, it was supposed to be my mome-"

"And it was." Owens lets out in an authorative and intense tone, cutting her up before she can go further into her depressed speech. His insistent gaze forces Sasha to make eye contact with him so she's able to scrutinise the smallest shift of expression, letting her know whether he's being sincere or dishonest.

"You guys stole the show and you know I'm not easily impressed." The Prizefighter gently explains, keeping his serious expression throughout the monologue, insisting on how surprisingly resilient she's been, battling it all until her last breath.

"You're like my fan number one." Banks notices whilst rubbing her left shoulder, still feeling the effects of the most brutal match she ever been a part of, recalling how ridiculously emotional Owens was when she won the NXT title. As soon as she came out of the curtains she felt a big Teddy Bear weight crashing upon her tired body as Kevin babbling some senseless sentences to express how proud of her he was at the time.

"Exactly." A small and shy smile meets the side of the Canadian's mouth, unexpectedly moving Sasha even more since the only moments she's ever seen such a curve on his face were the ones he'd share with his family.

To even consider she may mean that much to him slightly helps her calming down, taming the hurricane raging inside. "Kevin, thanks." And Mercedes finally manages to peek through the thick yet breaking armour, recreating the same movement as him, assuring him he may not be that big of a part of Sasha Banks' life but he sure as hell is crucial for Mercedes'.

Owens slowly leans on towards the redheaded's petite figure and spreads his arms out into a hug, only to be meet by air as Sasha ducks the "attack" with agility. "I'll spit in your face if you dare." She then exclaims, emphasizing her disgust with an excessive frown.

"Why do you always have to kill those sweet moments? And by the way, you look terrible." Owens pouts in response, making a valid point since Banks' make-up is all over the place and gross extensions are laying on the floor.

"Says the one who drools so much when he's angry he even has saliva in his hair." Banks retords, remembering how bad she laughed at the Canadian's reaction when Zayn's music hit back during the Royal Rumble. He was so pissed everybody thought he might hyperventilates a bit too much and fall flat on his head.

"Go fuck yourself." Owens pronounces as if she's just insulted his son, walking towards the corridor and throwing a fist in the damaged door he broke whilst entering into the locker, seemingfully still mad at Dolph and Miz's encounter.

Sasha Banks may have lost it all throughout one agitated night but Mercedes actually regained two precious tools: an undying hope and a trustworthy friend.

A person who would build her back up anytime she'd crack under the pressure, putting together the pieces like an impecable handyman.

___________

E L E N A ;

I cried while re-watching and writing this match / chapter for the obvious reasons but also because of Sasha's unconditional love for Eddie Guerrero and the whole tribute she paid to him.

+ Please tell me what your fav. part(s) was / were guys ?

+ I know I didn't describe that much the emotions during the match but ugh, it was complicated for my poor heart okay ?  & It's +3K, oops! This is my fav. chapter to write this far tbh.

+ Dedicated to sweet Matilda because we both been so disappointed in the real WM and writing this other version of it made me happy, hopefully it's for you too! ;)

enjoy, leave feedbacks if you feel like it, love you guys xxx