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Shelter From the Storm	By : TwistedInnocence Category: WWF/WWE > General Views: 1491 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the celebrities of WWE/WWF. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Shelter From the Storm
- 1
Before I start this story, I just want to say that this story is dedicated one hundred percent to a very dear friend of mine, Mike Cook. He will never read it (or so I hope, as I would die of embarrassment if he did) but he was my inspiration to write a wrestling fanfic. See, I went to school with Mike, better known as the Redneck Messiah to those he knows in Georgia.

Since we started high school together, all he wanted to be was a wrestler, and his dream is coming true. Despite the people that told him he couldn’t do it, including teachers, he’s still making it, and he’s my inspiration for not giving up, on anything, especially writing. And though he’ll never see this, I hope he knows that I love him and his friendship means the world to me.
*~*~*
Disclaimer: I wish I could say I own them. But, I can’t, more’s the pity.
Rating and other stuff is for later chapters.
Time passage will be slow to start with. Don’t ask me why, that’s just the way it goes.

Chapter One – The Arrivals

“I’m serious, Bischoff, if she gets hurt…” He growled out. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. No one his size had to finish a sentence like that.

Bischoff raised his hands in a placating movement. “Calm down. I’ll make sure that everyone knows they’re not to go out to interrupt. I won’t let anything happen to her. I promise.”

It took a long moment but the man finally nodded and his tense body relaxed. “It’s just that she’s been through enough, Eric. She doesn’t need anything else.”

Eric nodded. If anyone had told him that this man was so protective over someone, he would have said they were crazy. He was like an animal in the ring, and usually that was the only persona that people saw of him. It would be interesting to see what was going to happen in the coming months.

-

She leaned heavily against the sink in the women’s restroom, her arms spread bracing her weight against them. She took a deep steadying breath before letting her gaze find her reflection in the mirror. Long blood red hair spilled down her back, coming to rest just above her hips, and a few solid white streaks shot through her hair, contrasting sharply. Hardened eyes peered out from her face, looking at the reflection with distain, and her lips, shimmering with dark red lip-gloss, twisted in a sneer. She shook her head at her reflection and pulled her hood up over her head as she reentered the arena and made her way back to her seat.

“Someone might actually think you’re nervous the way you keep walking in and out,” one of the cameramen said quietly, looking over at her with amusement in his eyes.

“Maybe just a little. There’s a clock out in the hall. I keep checking it.”

“Ah. You could have simply asked then. I may be a stranger, but I don’t bite simply for asking the time.”

She smiled slightly. “I’ll have to remember that.”

“Good. A lady shouldn’t be walking around a crowded place like this by herself anyways, no matter who she is.”

She smiled even more at that comment, and would have replied but just then the lights went down. “Oh! It’s time for the show to start, finally!”

The man grinned at her. He couldn’t help being amused at her exuberance, but chose not to comment JR’s voice filtered in through the building. “Good evening everyone, and welcome to RAW at the Houston Astrodome!” The crowd roared, clearly showing their approval. “Before we get started into tonight’s matches, Mr. Bischoff has said that he’ll be coming down ring side to make an important announcement.”

The King’s voice interrupted JR. “What kind of announcement do you think he’ll be making, JR? Maybe we’re having another Diva Search, you think? Do you think we’ll get to see puppies?”

JR frowned at this co-announcer and shook his head. “King, does it bother you that all you think of is puppies?”

Before King could respond the General Manager’s music blared out and the esteemed man himself appeared.

“I don’t like that look on his face. He looks like the cat that got the cream.” JR observed. He wondered what Bischoff had up his sleeve.

“Don’t you mean he looks like the pu-”?

“Don’t even say it, King.”

Eric climbed into the ring with a huge grin on his face. The kind of grin that people who had gone against him recognized as a sign for trouble. In the locker rooms the wrestlers groaned, wondering what the man had gone and done now.

“Good evening, Houston!” Again, the house lit up with cheers. “Tonight I have a very special announcement to make. One that I’m sure will surprise many of you. But, to make things more interesting, I’ve decided I’d rather show than tell.” He paused here, looking around at all the anxious faces. “Oh Surprise,” he called in a nearly sing-song voice, “won’t you please come out?”

More music was cued, but it wasn’t a song that JR or King recognized, and they murmured back and forth as the grin on Bischoff’s face got even larger. A figure emerged from the back, stepping slowly, with deadly purpose out onto the platform. His entire body was encased in a black robe with a hood that shielded his face from view. The light just barely caught on glinting eyes, but nothing else as he made his way down the platform. It had to have been a man, because there was no woman on earth that was built like that.

“Who in the Hell is that?” King managed to choke out.

“That would be the surprise, evidently.”

The man climbed into the ring next to Bischoff with a grace that seemed somehow foreign with such a large body. Nearly everyone in the crowd was staring back and forth between them. “Everyone, this is my surprise. This is RAW’s latest trade with Smack Down, and I do believe that this young man will fit in perfectly. However, before we let you all know who he is…” The crowd groaned and booed, and Eric had to fight a smirk before he sobered his expression. “Tonight, as I’m sure everyone knows, is the fourth anniversary of September 11th. I think it would only be appropriate if we took a moment and honored the fallen.” He turned to look up the man standing next to him. “Now, we talked about this backstage, and I believe you said you knew the perfect person to sing the Anthem?”

The big man tilted his head, and turned in the ring, as though looking over the audience for the one he sought. His eyes drifted lazily over each person he looked at before he paused. He stepped through the ropes and off the apron approaching her slowly. The cameras followed him as he stopped in front of a girl who was standing next to the ramp. Her body was encased in a nearly identical cloak to his, and they could only guess what he was saying to her. “If you would do us the honor?”

She nodded once before putting her hand in his and allowing him to lead her to the ring.

“Who is she, JR? Do you know?” King was demanding.

“I think the point is that we’re not supposed to know.”

“He could have at least brought someone fitting with him.”

JR was yet again rolling his eyes. “King, all you’ve seen so far is that she doesn’t have a Barbie doll figure. For that fact, you’ve not even seen that. All we can see is the cloak.” King snorted his thoughts on the matter but shut his mouth anyways.

In the ring the young lady had straightened and was now holding to the unknown man’s arm. Her face was completely obscured by the hood, just like the man that she now stood with. JR hoped for her sake that this wasn’t one of Bischoff’s tricks.

Eric however was smiling rather kindly at the girl. Somehow Eric and kind didn’t seem right and even King had to suppress a shudder.

“Do you have a name, Miss?”

“Brenna.”

“Are you a good singer?”

She shrugged indifferently at that. “People seem to think so.”

He frowned considering her words, before shrugging and handing over the microphone. After all, some of their wrestlers had sung before, and he was fairly certain she couldn’t do more damage than they had. “Very well. We’ll give you a chance at least. I hope you know the words for the Anthem.”

A slight smile curved her lips at that. Both men backed away from her, retreating to the corners. She turned her back to the ramp so that she was facing the majority of the audience, and Eric gave a signal to the backstage crew.

The lights went down again, and two of the lights above the ring were turned to shine directly on her. It caused the robe to sparkle slightly, and highlighted a little bit of red hair that had escaped from the hood. The crowd hushed and several stood to their feet, though many were grimacing, waiting for her to butcher the song.

“O, say can you see,” her voice started out soft, almost trembling on the first notes.
“By the dawns early light,” It steadied out by the end of the second phrase, and some of the ones who had remained sitting stood as well.
“What so proudly we held at the twilights last gleaming.” JR forced King to stand and then pushed the chair out of the way so he couldn’t sit back down.
“Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight
In the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming
And the rockets red glare,” listening to her talk you would never have thought her voice could go that high, but she did it spectacularly.
“The bombs bursting in air
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there
O say does that star spangled Banner yet wave
Or the land of the free and the home of the brave.” By the end of the song almost every single person was on their feet, and broke out into wild applause.

Eric stared at his mysterious employee in shock as he took the microphone back from her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Well… I must say, I’m impressed. I’m not quite sure what to say actually.”

Brenna’s lips tugged in another smile. “Since you can’t think of anything, maybe you should finish your announcement.”

Bischoff’s eyes flashed in amusement and he turned to look at the other man. “I think I like her. All right then, why don’t you show everyone here just who you really are?”

The man laughed low and deep as the announcers gave the ring their whole hearted attention. In one slick move he slung the robe off his shoulders. His right arm was covered with a large black tattoo that held a small Chinese sign in the middle, while his left arm was covered with a large red Chinese sign. His thick, tree trunk like legs had two tattoos running up them, too. It was his face though that held everyone’s attention as the stadium broke out with a roar of approval. Only one man on earth looked like that, with the short cropped hair, chiseled yet soft face, light chilling brown eyes, and a small goatee in the middle of his chin.

“Batista!” JR and King exclaimed at the same time.

Batista grinned that feral grin of his, reminding them all that he was the Animal. He turned towards Brenna, and half of the audience braced themselves, certain about what was going to happen. “Thank you, for coming up here and singing for us, Brenna. It was a wonderful tribute to our country and all those who have served and died to keep this land free.” Almost as one the audience let out the breath it had been holding.

Before she could reply though new music was cued, and both Batista and Eric bristled. “I thought you told everyone to stay the Hell away from the ring!”

“I did,” Bischoff snapped back.

“Well, well, well. If it’s not the Animal himself. Have you come back to RAW with your tail between your legs, Batista? And who’s this you’ve brought with you, hm? Does she hide her face from shame of being with you, or is she simply that ugly?”

Brenna blanched and took a few steps back as Batista stepped in front of her. He snatched the microphone away from Eric. “You want to say something to me, then by all means say it, Angle, but whatever your problem is it’s between us, and no one else.”

“After all he’s boasted about that medal he wears around his neck you would think he would have respect for someone who just sang the Anthem.” JR growled, shaking his head.

King’s eyes were tracking Kurt Angle as he walked down to the ringside. “Yeah, but we both know that Angle only has respect for himself and those who can do for him.”

“I think he has a point, actually. If she’s not ugly then let us see her face.” Coach said, making his presence known for the first time.

“Where in the Hell did you come from?” King demanded, though his attention was still on Angle.

“What’s the matter, Batista, don’t like me talking bad about your little friend? What exactly is she, hm? Girlfriend? Or is she so ugly that you wouldn’t claim her? Oh, that’s right! You’re married, aren’t you? Well, I bet the little wife will just love watching tonight then.” Kurt was glaring maliciously.

Bischoff had managed to get another microphone handed to him. “Back off, Kurt. There were specific instructions that no one was to come out here!”

“For all I know you’re bringing in someone to take away my chance at Cena’s title, Bischoff, that makes this my business, and that gives me every right to be here! Were you afraid I couldn’t get the job done?”

“So that’s your reason for acting this way. Fine. You’ve just earned yourself a match tonight, Kurt Angle. Against Batista. Right here, right now.”

Angle stared up at him, mouth slightly gaping open. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh, but I can, I will, and I just did. Open your mouth again, and I’ll make it a handicap match.”

Kurt gestured wildly, and the next moment his shirt had come flying off.

Brenna’s eyes widened behind her hood as Batista dropped into a defensive stance. Eric and Brenna quickly slid out of the ring as Batista growled. “Take her to the back.”

“I don’t think so! I’ll leave this ringside when you do, and only then.” Brenna snapped, placing her hands on her hips. “I’ve not gone so soft that I don’t know how to take care of myself.”

Eric found his lips twitching with amusement at her sudden display of spine. He’d been beginning to wonder about her. Batista turned to glare at her, no doubt to demand she go to the back, but was immediately distracted by Angle throwing himself into the ring and diving at him. They started throwing fists back and forth, and Chad Patton came running down the ramp and quickly slid under the ropes, gesturing for the bell to start the match.

Kurt had not counted on Batista’s rage though. He had never been so pissed off in the ring before. Kurt would be an example that no one was to ever mess with Brenna. He grabbed Kurt’s arm and sent him crashing into the post before climbing up on the bottom rope and beginning to pound his head. The crowd counted right along with the referee until Batista backed off. He watched as Angle looked around dazedly, as though trying to remember where he was before shaking his head. He blinked and when his eyes landed on Batista he growled. No one was going to humiliate him.

Batista had bent over the ropes apparently arguing with Bischoff and the girl. Kurt smirked, thinking that Bischoff was distracting him. Obviously he’d been mistaken and Bischoff was only giving him the chance to prove what he could do. He charged forward, but at the last possible moment Batista moved, and Kurt collided head first with the steel post.

Brenna’s lips curled in a sneer as she watched the supposedly great Kurt Angle nearly take his own head off. It was rather amusing. Batista grabbed the still stunned Angle, hefted him up above his head and then threw him down on his back. He then proceeded to Demon Bomb him, not once, not twice, but three times.

He fell back limply and Batista covered him. He got the three count and then stood, looking down at Angle’s body was disgust as he held his arms up high. The posts exploded with red sparks as he brought his arms back down and slid out of the ring. Brenna was grinning at him. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was grinning as she laughed.

“Weren’t trying to prove a point were you?”

“I might have been.”

Eric just shook his head, trying to keep his face neutral as Batista slid his arm around Brenna’s shoulders and the three walked out of the arena, the cheers of the fans following them.

It took about an hour for Brenna to get bored. Batista was out doing another match, the match that was actually supposed to have been his return match. She would have been out there with him, but she wasn’t supposed to do that. Personally, she thought Eric might be a tad frightened she would either get in the way of the match, or interfere. After all, he didn’t know too much about her. Yet.

She wondered around backstage without thinking about much. The cloak still hid her face, her body, but no one that she passed so far really commented. They were too busy shying away. Anyone who had been in the business for any amount of time knew that if someone was staying hidden, then there was a reason for it.

She approached the catering table somewhat cautiously, glancing around to see that hardly anyone was there. She grabbed a bottle of water and a sandwich, looking around again.

“Afraid someone’s going to tell you the food’s off limits?”

She yelped in surprise, and whirled around, causing the cloak to billow slightly and nearly blowing her hood off her face. John Cena stood in front of her, smirking slightly while holding both hands up.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, honest. I just found the way you were looking around amusing.”

Her eyes narrowed under her hood. “How could you tell?”

“You hesitated before walking all the way into the room, and then again when you reached the table. It wasn’t hard to figure out.”

“For a thug, you seem to have some brains in your head.”

He smirked at her. “And you’re pretty ballsy for someone afraid to show their face.”

She snorted with amusement, and tossed a second bottle of water at him. “Well, I’m not afraid of you, that’s for sure, Cena.”

“That’s unfair you know.” He answered calmly as he twisted the lid off and nearly downed the bottle in one go.

“What?”

“That you know my name.”

“Everyone who watches wrestling or listens to rap knows your name by now.”

“Yes, but I don’t know yours.”

“Really? Too bad then. You should have paid attention when I gave it at ring side.”

“Ah, but I wasn’t watching, so I couldn’t have seen it could I?”

“You really want to know?” He nodded. “It’s Brenna.” She turned walking away from him.

“At least I can tell the other guys I talked to the new Diva now.” He called after her, and she paused, turning to look over her shoulder. Her hood pulled just enough to let some light in, showing off vividly amber eyes.

“I assure you, John Cena, I may be a lot of things, including a number one bitch, but the one thing I ain’t, is a Diva.”

He laughed at her response as she left.

Well, that was at least someone she’d made contact with. All the others had shied away as soon as they spotted her. The question now remained, would Cena prove friend or foe?

She shook her head as she continued walking around until she came across another room with a television set up to show what was happening in the ring. She sighed as she watched Batista demon-bomb Rob Conway. Not that she minded. She’d seen enough of Conway to know he had an ego a mile wide. It certainly wouldn’t hurt him to be taken down a notch or two. Or ten.

She smirked as Batista got the pin and then stood, loud and proud, holding his title over his head like he did at the end of every match, soaking in the fan’s cheers. As he made his way back to the bullpen Todd Grisham stepped out in front of him, holding out his microphone. “Would it be alright to have a word with you, Batista?” He stopped, and tilted his head looking down at the reporter. He shrugged and turned towards him. “How does it feel to be back on Raw?”

“It feels good, to be honest. Everything here is charged in a way that SmackDown! For all that they try, will never have.”

“Why return now?”

“I guess I was causing too much trouble for SmackDown to want to keep me.”

“Any particular reason for the new tats?”

Batista smirked. “Oh, there are plenty of reasons. None of which you need to know right now.”

Todd nodded, seeming to understand that, though he could see the curiosity burning in the young man’s eyes. “You definitely have everyone’s curiosity peaked with the lady that was with you tonight. Is there anything that we can know about her?”

Batista tilted his head as though thinking. He turned his face fully to the camera, and it zoomed in, catching the way his brown eyes glowed ominously. “Just know this. She’s very important to me, and if anyone messes with her, I’ll make what I’ve just done to Angle and Conway look like paradise. I don’t give a damn who it is, even if it’s Vince McMahon himself. Someone hurts her, there will be Hell to pay.”

Brenna groaned, dropping her head into her hands. The guy gave over protectiveness entirely new meaning. She turned when she heard laughter behind her, and blinked when she saw one of the Divas standing there.

“Well, I don’t think I would have ever imagined Evolution’s Animal as protective over anyone.” Lita was still laughing.

“He’s not Evolution’s anymore though. Evolution has been…. Dismembered.” She seemed to take great thrill in the way she drawled that word, and it caused Lita to shudder as she caught the other woman’s meaning. She didn’t have a chance to reply though as the man they were talking about rounded the corner.

“Lita. I believe Edge was looking for you.” She turned and quickly left. Brenna gave a humorless chuckle. “Already making friends, Bree?”

“Something like that, I guess. She’s the only Diva that’s had the guts to approach me, and I talked to Cena earlier.” He slung his arm over her shoulder as they made their way back towards the locker room so he could shower off.

“Cena’s an all right person, from what I can tell. Not sure about Lita. Not sure I want to know about her either.”

Brenna smirked beneath her hood, but didn’t say a thing. She wondered if he had heard the comments about Evolution, but since he hadn’t said anything about the dismemberment comment, she seriously doubted he’d heard it. “So, you going to give me the run through on people I should avoid?”

He shook his head. “Brenna, you have a better since of judgment than I do usually. I’m sure you’ll figure out who to avoid on your own. Though, I would recommend avoiding Viscera, if for no other reason than the fact you’ll get hit on by him.”

She frowned as she entered the locker room and threw herself into a chair. “Batista, not to argue or anything,” she heard him snort as he turned on the shower spray, “but no one can see my face. Why the Hell would he hit on me?”

“Because I’m pretty sure he hits on anything so long as it doesn’t have a dick, and even then I’m not too sure.”

She groaned as she rifled through the bag she’d left there earlier. “That was not a mental image that I needed.”

“You’ll get over it, I’m sure.” She groaned again and could hear him laughing.
*~*~*
Err, the wrestling scene kinda sucked. My apologies for that. I love wrestling, but I'm not very good with the names of the moves, so I kinda wrote myself into a hole.
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Shelter From the Storm