In Sickness & In Health

[Cyrus Daniels]

In the en-suite bathroom of their hotel room, Vivienne in a white bathrobe knelt over the toilet, whilst her husband Cyrus stood behind her in navy boxer shorts and gathered up her long dark hair tightly in his palm and firmly held every strand away from her face whilst Vivienne hurled the contents of her stomach out into the bowl. A few moments later, a second shorter spill was expelled from her guts and a few minutes after that, a third trickle ensured that the last of that night’s partially digested street food was now completely out of her system.

“Are ya done, Kitten?”

“I…” Vivienne nodded slowly, “I think so. Thank you.”

“That’ll teach ya ta eat free samples of shit we can’t pronounce off dodgy vendors on street corners,” Cyrus said as he flushed the toilet for them both, letting go of her hair so it cascaded back around her shoulders.

“I’m not sure it was the food,” Vivienne said. “I had a slight headache all day yesterday. I figured it was because I skipped breakfast whilst we were training for the match against Dean. I thought finally eating something and a good night’s rest at the end of the day would help.”

“Has it?”

“Yeah, I mean my head has stopped pounding and my stomach has stopped turning at least. I feel good.” Vivienne smiled as she stood up again and turned to the wash basin and mirror. “More like myself than I have in the last few weeks actually. Not so angry anymore,” Vivienne quickly gargled some mint mouthwash. She rinsed and spat the acrid taste of vomit from her mouth. “I mean I still want to cave Dean’s face in just to prove a point and get revenge for my Murder sisters, but it doesn’t feel as all-consuming as it once did. I think I’m getting a handle on channeling my rage towards Dean and Warren, finally.”

“That’s a relief,” Cyrus said softly. “For a while there it felt like I was losing you, honestly.”

“Oh, I’m sorry baby,” Vivienne jumped a little to kiss him quickly on the cheek. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unloved. I still love you with all my heart and soul, I just got a little caught up in work, that’s all.”

“Speaking of, I suppose ya want me to hold back on Warren this week then, yeah?”

“No,” Vivienne said firmly, squeezing toothpaste onto her brush. “Matches against the World Champion don’t happen every day. Pax may have the next shot but a good performance could put you right in line behind him. Do whatever you need to to put yourself back in the hunt. Just like I intend to as well.”

“Oh good,” Cyrus smiled. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck softly, making her shiver whilst she ran her electric brush over a corner of her mouth. “I don’t like the way he looks at you, sometimes. Like he wants more than friendship from you.”

Vivienne spat before answering with a heavy sigh, “That’s probably my fault. He probably thinks I led him on, especially after I asked him to be a donor because I thought nobody would want me for who I really am. But Warren felt safe, trustworthy you know. Boy, I got that one spectacularly wrong, didn’t I?”

“I don’t care what name he goes by now, he’ll always be a Kane,” Cyrus said, “And in my experience you can never trust a Kane completely. They’re snakes, and I don’t know if the apple really fell all that far from the tree.”

“It’s true, Warren’s complicity in what happened to Rowan hurt me,” Vivienne said, pausing her brush motion inside her right cheek. “But I still don’t know if I’d go that far. Just as I don’t think it would be fair to judge you by the kind of man your father was. Despite everything that has happened recently, I still believe both of you have it in you to be far better men than either of you have ever given yourselves credit for. Warren didn’t tell me how much he really knew about what Dean was planning. He didn’t even give me a chance to warn Astrid or Virginia, they didn’t need to be there if Rowan really was the main target of Dean’s attack. And honestly, that part of the betrayal is what hurt the most.”

“I’ll make him pay for that, Kitten, I swear,” Cyrus declared, half-filling a cup with water for Vivienne. “Nobody hurts my wife an’ gets away with it.”

“Oh I know you will, and part of me wants you to, because honestly I’m so sick of being treated like a damned child. Everyone acts like they know what’s best for me. Nobody listens to me or respects my life choices as my own. They just want to hate me and don’t think I can do anything for myself. Before she came around, even Shea took her shots at me and that fucking hurt coming from my best friend. And Warren can say he did it to protect me, but like at what cost? Both Astrid and Virginia may never wrestle again. Astrid may not even be able to raise little Hope properly or at all. I’m not stupid, I know Rowan was far from a good person, but that doesn’t change the fact that she still helped me when nobody else would,” Vivienne rinsed her mouth out with water and spat into the basin. “She found me at my lowest and raised me up. Gave me hope and helped me find the confidence to be myself unapologetically for the first time in my life. I no longer had to hide myself or feel ashamed, I didn’t have to wear the mask of innocence to preserve my family name or reputation. I no longer had to be a trophy girlfriend or a disposable object in somebody else’s life.”

“Ya know, I’ve never seen ya as any of that shit, Kitten,” Cyrus said. “And I never will.”

“I know,” Vivienne said craning her neck up to kiss him, he met her halfway. “That’s why you’re my husband, and why I love you as much as I do.”

“I love you too, Kitten.” Cyrus gazed into her beautiful eyes and smiled. “More an’ more every damned day.”

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Cyrus Daniels was overjoyed that Vivienne had felt well enough to still make their scheduled visit to Tokyo Disneyland as a family. They had a fun-filled day at the park with their two young twin boys, Noah and Liam. Highlights for Cyrus included the Western Railroad, the Western Shooting Gallery, the Jungle Cruise Wildlife Expedition and Buzz Lightyear’s AstroBlaster, mainly because of how they each seemed to bring such joy to his boys’ little faces. Their pure laughter and excitement was unlike anything he’d experienced himself at their age. He had never been to any Disneyland theme parks as a child, but experiencing one now through the eyes of his children had felt absolutely incredible.

Only after he checked that Vivienne was okay looking after the napping boys after their long and exhausting day did Cyrus even think about his work obligations. His family was the priority in a way that he had never been to his own father whilst growing up.

He stood against a backdrop of electric lights, still somewhere on park grounds in an olive short-sleeved button up shirt and brown trousers. His waveform wristband was as proudly displayed as his wedding ring and equally as sentimental to him. Clearly, Cyrus’ marriage still meant something, unlike his opponent’s.

Warren, it would seem we’ve given people the impression that we’re better mates than we actually are. Truth is ya looked me up specifically ta help get ya in ring shape for Tytus Rost, an’ essentially paid me outta your own pocket for the privilege of kickin’ your arse until ya learned all the lessons ya needed ta to be where ya are today.

The bloke sat at the top of the fuckin’ pro wrestlin’ world once again.

Just like ya said ya wanted, so tell me why the hell are ya still so miserable?

Could it be ‘cause you’re learnin’ the hard way that it ain’t the belt that makes the bloke, but rather the bloke that makes the belt? Your old man understood that basic law of the biz, but it seems that every generation of your family don’t learn a damned thing ‘til it’s beaten into them. I had ta beat every ounce of respect I ever got from Spike out of him, and even then that respect wasn’t mutual until we both got locked up for a night as cell mates.

Truth is I miss beatin’ the shit outta that arrogant motherfucker.

He’s been dead now for almost as long as the last time you and I crossed paths in this company. Hell I can probably count on one hand the number of fans left in the audience who still care about those days. So much has changed around here, includin’ the two of us, Warren. I remember the days when ya at least had a spine.

Even if ya had ta paint yaself up like a satanic clown for it ta show.

What the hell happened, mate?

Ya went from Demon Prince ta Damned Pussy real fuckin’ quick.

Now if losin’ your balls and becomin’ a coward was the worst of it, I’d be willin’ ta give ya a pass, but you went out of your way ta be one of the arseholes who made my wife cry her eyes out for days, an’ that is exactly the kinda shit I can’t just forget, never mind forgive. Ya chose ta betray not only years of friendship but also her sacred trust…for what?

Tryna get a few more months outta a marriage you’ve now given up on anyway?

Just how stupid an’ short-sighted, are ya, motherfucker?

Was it worth it?

Actually no, don’t bother answerin’ that, ‘cause I promise ya when I leave ya gaspin’ for air in a pool of your own sweat, piss, blood, vomit and shit, you’ll realise that it absolutely fuckin’ wasn’t. Speakin’ of shit that just ain’t worth it, neither is bein’ one of the millions of green googly eyed bogans who insist on disrespectin’ my wife an’ her autonomy with their jealous stares an’ not so subtle insinuations that she could do so much better than the bloke she chose ta marry an’ raise a family with - me.

I married the Shiela of not only my own dreams but everyone else’s dreams too.

Ya don’t have to like it but ya do have to live with it, every single one of ya.

Especially you, Warren.

I know that boils your piss ta hear mate, even if ya can’t admit it, at least not without blowin’ your whole nice guy whose just tragically misunderstood act, ‘cause ya just can’t bring yourself to ever admit that the reason you’re so fuckin’ unhappy is nobody’s fault but your own.

‘Cause you’ve never known what ya really want outta this life, have ya?

You’ve never really had the courage ta really shoot for true happiness, ‘cause you’ve defined your whole life not only by your childhood trauma an’ chronic daddy issues but also by what others think of you. All things I will never do.

I will never live by anybody else’s terms but my own.

We had a similarly crappy childhood, but lookin’ at how utterly pathetic ya are, I can’t help but be reminded of an old Russian saying, a piece of wisdom imparted to me by my old mate, Rost:

“What is a ford to the horse is a flood to the chicken.”

I’ve crossed the ford of all of my trauma and come out the other side so much stronger already, whilst you Warren are still drowning in yours. I am the horse and you are the chicken, to extend the metaphor.

Remind me, which one of us is supposed ta be the better bloke again?

‘Cause from where I’m standin’, it sure as shit ain’t you, mate.