Chapter Text
Batista had finished taking a shower to clean himself, having wrestle a few dark matches himself since Vince had wanted him to get more practice with different wrestling styles. They have had talks about him potentially being drafted over to SmackDown later next year, but he still had potential storylines to work with on Raw for the meantime. He put on a dark red silk shirt, carefully buttoning it up until he reached the collar and left it open so he could breathe. While it was November and Ohio wasn’t known for its warmth, he still felt like he was burning up. He had originally came here with the intention to talk to Eddie and apologize for his involvement, or lack of, in Chris’ attack a couple of months ago. He hadn’t been prepared for Eddie to offer a coffee date.
No, it wasn’t exactly a date.
He was being stupid, but he couldn’t help himself. He always admired Eddie from afar, the man being one of the biggest reasons he wanted to get into the wrestling business and he found himself hoping that he could work with the latino once he came over to SmackDown. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a heavy sigh, needing to straighten out his head or else he was going to make himself look like a bigger idiot. Not that he hadn’t already. He liked Chris too, but his perception of the Canadian was skewed now in the wake of Eddie’s close brush with death. No matter how often the veteran might try to convince him, he will always hold himself accountable for that. He should’ve known better, he should’ve picked up the signs. He grew up in a household where his mother was abused before she got divorced with his father so he was painfully familiar with the type of environment and yet he was blind to everything thanks to what? For the wool he allowed to be pulled over his eyes for considering Chris another hero? It didn’t excuse him and he knew it so the least he could do was make up somehow for it.
Batista was abruptly yanked out of his thoughts when his ears picked up a loud noise from what appeared to come from the parking lot. He froze, childhood memories resurfacing and he realized that what he heard was the sound of a gunshot and he recalled Eddie walking in that direction after they talked. “Shit,” he cursed under his breath, hurriedly pulling his shoes on and running out of the dressing room. ‘Please let him be okay,’ he wasn’t the type to pray, but he hoped that Eddie was okay or he would never be able to claw out of the hole his guilt dug.
He made it out to the parking lot, his eyes searching frantically before coming to a rest on two forms a little ways down the area. “Eddie!” he bellowed out, legs moving before he could think and he was over to them. To his relief, Eddie was alive. Sobbing and screaming, but alive. He glanced over and nearly felt sick at the growing puddle of blood spreading out and staining Eddie’s wrestling tights where the chicano was knelt down tugging at the limp body. He saw a gun in the hand, swallowing and kicking it away. He thought Chris was dead at first until he saw the faint rise and fall of the chest. “Fuck, we need to call 911,” he muttered, pulling out his cell phone and quickly dialing. He told the responder the address and the situation before hanging up. “Eddie, get away,” he said gently, sliding his hands under Guerrero’s arms and lifting the smaller wrestler up to carry him away from the scene. “Help is coming and you’re not gonna be able to do anything if you’re in the way,” he tried to get his coworker to snap out of it, but there was a faraway look in the soft brown eyes that told him Eddie wasn’t listening. “Hey, he’s still alive, alright? Please look at me,” he tried again. ‘Alive for now.’ He didn’t voice his thoughts. As much as he hated Chris and what the bastard did, he didn’t wish death on him. He just wasn’t that type of person.
“P-P-Pero esta sangrando,” Eddie stammered, trembling and reaching out for Chris’ limp form only for Batista to hold him tighter. They went to the curb, being set down on the bench and then a heavy leather jacket being placed over his shoulders. He blinked, looking up and realizing that Batista had been wearing it. “Lo siento?” he squeaked, voice impossibly small and childlike. Soon enough, an ambulance came in the parking lot, the sirens and flashing lights attracting a crowd. He swallowed, a lump the size of his fist forming in the back of his throat and threatening to cut off oxygen. This was his fault, he couldn’t stop fucking things up and it was only a matter of time before Vince fired him. He was snapped out of his spiraling thoughts when a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and squeezed him in a firm hug.
“It isn’t your fault,” Batista said softly, rubbing his hand up and down the arm in a soothing manner. He knew all too well what it was like to feel alone and trapped in his own head, and he wasn’t going to let Eddie suffer. Lord knows the man has suffered enough. “Hindi ka nag-iisa,” his voice dropped, reacting on instinct and brushing his lips against the latino’s temple. He didn’t get a chance for his brain to caught up to what he had just done, one of the EMT’s walking over to them. He knew Eddie wasn’t in any position to speak, so he cleared his throat and gave his statement from where he was sitting on the curb. It wasn’t smart, but he told them that Eddie was there after the incident. He didn’t know what else to do, knowing they’d take Eddie to the police station for questioning and the last thing he wanted was to put the older man through more trauma. He let out a relieved sigh once they finished writing down his anecdote and went back to the ambulance. He held Eddie down when the other wrestler instantly tried to follow them. “No, not right now, mahal,” he murmured, heat rising to his neck as he realized what he just called Eddie. He thanked his lucky stars that the smaller man didn’t speak his language.
Eddie let out a whine without realizing it, straining in Dave’s hold before he sat back with a slump. He had no energy, shock from the gunshot draining the last of his strength that all he could do was watch the paramedics lift the strolley up into the ambulance and close the doors. He was a horrible person, he had to be, who else would just let their friend be taken away alone like this? Why didn’t he take the gun out of Chris’ hands before the trigger was pulled? He was a horrible, selfish, cowardly piece of shit that should’ve been shot, not Chris. Maybe his lover wouldn’t have been driven to beat him and resort to drastic means such as just what happened tonight, if he just played the role of a loving partner. “I need to see him,” he whispered hollowly, with no convictions in his words. If he truly cared, he would’ve jumped in the back of the ambulance, wouldn’t he?
He just got a hug and felt Dave’s breaths tickling his ear.
“Oh Eddie, you can see him when he gets better, there’s nothing you could do right now. The doctors will take care of him,” Batista reassured, even if it left a bitter taste in the back of his throat. He wanted Eddie as far away from Benoit as possible, but he wasn’t so heartless that he wouldn’t let his coworker have a peace of mind knowing the Canadian was stable. ‘Heh, stable is the furthest thing that bastard is.’ but he kept his thoughts to himself. “I don’t know about you, but it’s a bit too cold to hang out here, no? I have a friend who lives in the city and he’s letting me crash at his apartment while he’s out of town,” he scratched his cheek nervously, a light blush painting his features pink. “It’s a really nice place, and it’s in a little forest with a lake, and uh, it’s pretty big for just one person,” he laughed nervously, the tip of his ears bright red now. “If you want, er, you could come with-with me? You’ll have your own room and everything, uh there’s even an in-law suite with their own mini kitchen so we don’t have to see each other if you prefer,” he was rambling, he needs to shut up.
Eddie blinked slowly, running his hand over his face and feeling exhausted to the bones. He was supposed to go back with Mark, but….he just knew the older veteran was going to find out about the incident. News spread fast in the locker room, fast enough to make high school look like something from ancient Greece with a messenger traveling between territories. He didn’t want to put up with the questions, and he had a sinking feeling that it was going to make Calaway suspicious of him again. All the hard work he built up over the past months were going to come crashing down and he was going to be seen as a helpless damsel all over again. “Sure, let’s leave now,” he sighed, anxiety prickling at the back of his neck. Was it a mistake? It felt like a mistake. He got up, swaying unsteadily and leaning against Batista when his vision twisted and swirled around the edges. He looked down, finally noticing the blood covering him. Benoit’s blood, not his own. He stiffened once he came to the terrifying realization that he would have to take a shower before he could leave the building.
Eddie’s peaceful musing instantly evaporated along with the steam when he felt someone squeezing in the tiny stall, pushing him against the cold tiled wall. “What the hell?!” he exclaimed indignantly, terror strapping him of the warmth when he recognized Benoit, felt lecherous hands gripping his hips. A keening whimper ripped out of him and he shivered under the hot water.
He couldn’t do it. The locker room only had a communal shower stall. There wasn’t even any single ones with curtains like there was at the arena back in Arizona. He couldn’t. He didn’t notice he was shaking until Batista had both arms around him and was calling his name. “Q-Qué?” he stammered out, looking up at the younger wrestler and slowly relaxing at the soft expression. Dave was different than Mark in so many ways, and he didn’t feel like he had to be on guard to shield himself from the stare.
“Uh, I think you know but we can’t leave until we get the blood off,” Dave said quietly, rubbing his thumbs in soothing circles on the hunched shoulders. “I know it’s not a great idea, but what if we just use the water to wash it off? You don’t have to undress or anything?” It would probably draw some weird stares, but it was the only compromise he could think of. He gave Eddie a big smile when the latino nodded faintly. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there with you,” he quickly regretted it when the words drained the colors off Eddie’s face. “Or, uh, if it’s vacant, I can make sure no one else comes in,” he hastily added, resisting the urge to peck the clammy forehead since he wasn’t sure if Eddie would take it the wrong way. He gave the shoulders a brief squeeze before letting go and stepping aside.
Eddie could barely swallow, his mouth completely dry as he watched Dave warily. Nothing about the bigger man’s body language gave anything away and the touches didn’t feel lecherous, but he couldn’t shake the nerves off. He didn’t trust himself to walk, but he already made himself look weak. He took a careful step, thankful that his knees didn’t buckle and he found himself heading towards the locker room. This was a bad idea, bad, bad, bad, bad. His fingers dug into the coat around him and brought it closer. He didn’t pay attention to the stares from stagemembers and other wrestlers, focused on his own breathing and keeping his gaze planted to the floor, as if the ground underneath him would give away any minute now. Once he was in the locker room, he gave the jacket back to Dave, not wanting to ruin the material before he searched for his duffle bag. He could change out of his gear in one of the bathroom stalls, he wasn’t going to ride with Dave soaking wet like a child.
Batista went ahead and took a peak in the communal shower, sighing once he confirmed it was empty. Today seemed to be in their favors so far, and he returned to the other room, frowning as he saw the older man’s hands shaking as they yanked some clothes out of the bag. “Eddie?” he prompted quietly, feeling guilty when he got a flinch in return. “Sorry, just wanted to let you know it’s empty. I can wait here while you’re over, ya know, in the shower,” he explained, wishing he could comfort his colleague but he just felt helpless. He was big and strong, and he couldn’t make Eddie feel safe. What good was his physique if he couldn’t use it? While Eddie went over to the shower room, he tidied up the duffle bag, neatly organizing the rest of the latino’s stuff and zipping it shut to move it over with his own bag. He heard the water running, looking over and not seeing any steam. His heart sank to his stomach as he became aware of the fact Eddie must be using cold water.
He wasn’t a stranger to this situation, having grown up taking care of his mother in the aftermath of the beating and violence, but it took on a different meaning as an adult now. He was in the position to make a difference, and he wasn’t going to leave Eddie like this. He blocked off Copeland and Christian when the two men came in, barking at them to leave and sticking his tongue out when the two older workers cursed him out. He didn’t care if he earned a reputation backstage, or got in hot waters with some of the veterans. Right now, all he cared about was Eddie.
Eddie zoned out as soon as the cold water hit him, shivering and using his hands to wipe the blood off of his tights. Luckily they were wicked so moisture wouldn’t be absorbed and while blood was more viscous than sweat, it didn’t get all the way through. Keeping the water cold helped push back some of the flashbacks, but he was still lightheaded and nauseous. He didn’t bother using soap, deciding to handwash the gear at a different time. His thoughts splintered as they wandered over to Chris, the moment playing over and over like a grainy film. He could still remember the breath he took when the trigger was pulled, the flash of the gun going off behind his closed eyelids and then the blood stained ground. He stared at the water swirling around the drain, seeing the dark clumps of blood and grey matter between his feet. He lurched over with a retch, heaving and throwing up what little food he ate earlier, one hand planted against the wet wall and his entire frame trembling. He squeezed his eyes shut, gagging as he remembered how limp Chris felt in his embrace, how more blood oozed out when he lifted the head screaming his ex’s name. His other hand clenched the front of his soaked shirt, broken sobs spilling out of him between his heaves.
“You never loved me! If you truly loved me, you would've stayed with me! You just ran away like some whore and went to the nearest fuck who doesn't mind the used up hole you have. W-Why won't you come with me? Am I not good enough for you anymore?!"
That was the truth, wasn’t it? Chris hurt him, time and time again, but he wasn’t some blameless victim either. If he just stayed good and wasn’t such a fuck up, they wouldn’t be here. His best friend, the only one to stay by his side, wouldn’t be bleeding to death in the back of an ambulance surrounded by strangers and sterile equipment.
Eddie sank to his knees, shuddering and cupping his mouth while the frigid water continued beating down his back. It was just like he was a kid all over again, his oldest brother yelling and beating him with a belt telling him that he was nothing. He had nothing to offer now and he was scared of being alone. He hated being alone, Chris knew that and always shared a hotel room with him since their Japan days. All that’s left to show is a bullet embedded deep in the Canadian’s head, and while he didn’t have the gun, he knew he was the one who pulled the trigger.
Suddenly there were footsteps and then arms around him. He jolted back to alert, scrabbling at the wall and slamming the front of his head against it blindly. He didn’t want to be conscious during this, he didn’t want to relive this again. ‘Please, God, don’t let me feel it anymore,’ he cried silently, flinching when the hands dipped under his arms and then lifting him back to his feet. He stumbled forward, sharp gasps tumbling out of him until his brain snapped out of the panic and he recognized Batista’s hushed voice. “D-Dave?”
Batista nearly collapsed at the mention of his name. “Oh, Eddie, I was worried, I heard you throwing up. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to scare you, but you’ve been here for a long time and I just..” he couldn’t finish, not when he saw how haunted Eddie looked. He could feel how tense the man was standing and he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around the shivering body and hugging him tightly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, grateful once he could feel the tension leaving until Eddie was slumped in his embrace, fingers digging into his waist.
For a moment, the two of them stood under the showerhead in silence.
Dave got their luggages in the rental car once they both changed into something dry, insisting on Eddie keeping one of the towels around his neck since the other wrestler’s hair was still wet. He guided him into the passenger seat before he got in on the driver’s side, giving the other a brief glance. Eddie was silent the entire time, not that he could blame him. “I don’t know if my friend left food at the apartment, so I’m stopping at a Burger King. I dunno about ya, but greasy food always does the trick when I’ve been crying, ya know? Gotta match the puffy eyes with a bloated belly,” he filled the silence with his words, deciding he could do the talking for both of them.
Hope blossomed in his chest when he drew a ghost of a smile out of Eddie. “Unless the senorito wants Taco Bell,” he grinned, laughing when he got swatted.
“Don’t push your luck, or I’ll cancel the coffee debt you owe me,” Eddie retorted, but there were no barbs in his words, the smile finally gracing across his lips. Was it wrong for him to enjoy the companionship? He pushed the thought out of his mind, he was too tired and….he was hungry, as his stomach rumbled quietly and he blushed. “Not a word, pendejo,” he grumbled when Batista laughed, crossing his arms and slouching in the seat. He was glad he didn’t argue with the younger man about the towel, shivering faintly and tugging the cloth tighter over his head. He fiddled with the radio while Dave kept chatting, murmuring his responses here and there to let him know that he was still paying attention.
There was a long line in the drive through, and he was half asleep by the time they finally got their food, jerking back groggily when Batista dumped the hot back in his lap. He yawned, rubbing his thumbs over his eyes as he straightened up and started to open the bag before Dave’s hand closed over his.
“Patience, young grasshopper,” Batista interjected, mimicking Eddie’s accent poorly and the only response being Eddie’s brow arching. “We’re not far, and it’s a rental so let’s eat when we get home,” he explained, knowing that it’d be a pain in the ass trying to clean the crumbs out of the car if he let Eddie eat while they were driving. He did his best impression of puppy eyes and stuck his bottom lip out. “Por favor?”
Eddie snorted, snickering and shaking his head as he rolled the bag shut. “Okay, okay, as long as you don’t speak Spanish again, papi,” he chuckled, smiling bemusedly when Dave beamed at him and pulled out of the lot. He didn’t understand why he felt so at peace around the other athlete. He didn’t know him all that well, but Batista’s presence quiet down the racing thoughts and the nervous energy writhing around in himself. He didn’t feel like he had to prove himself like he did with Mark, and Dave wasn’t frazzled and stressed like Rey-Rey.
Before he could think about it further, his eyelids grew heavy again under the passing street lamps and he was dozing off again, barely conscious of Batista’s hand holding his own.
The apartment Dave was staying at was much smaller than Mark’s huge condominium and cozier from where it was tucked away from the main streets. It was in the suburbs, but the neighbors were more spaced out, with trees blocking the other units. “This looks more like a duplex? I thought you said it was an apartment,” Eddie spoke up as they pulled into the driveway.
“Well, that’s what he told me. This is my first time being here too,” Dave replied, looking around and then resting his gaze on Eddie. The area was dimly lit with only one lamp and half of the latino’s face was bathed in the pale yellow light. His adam apple bobbed and he coughed, covering his mouth and clearing his throat. “Er, I think he owns the whole building, he just rents both units out. There’s no tenants downstairs, so it’s just us,” he faintly remembered his friend telling him the details the other day, but it was hard to remember the conversation when his eyes kept darting over and memorizing the way Eddie looked wearing his varsity jacket and the hair now dry and poofy from where the strands were sticking out under the towel.
“Oh, well, I’m glad. I don’t want to deal with any more people….” Eddie breathed out, taking the towel off and shaking his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, pouting when he could feel how they were curling up. “I need to get a haircut soon,” he complained, looking at Dave and cocking his head when he saw the man staring at him. “Papi?”
Dave’s entire face turned beet red and he sent a silent prayer to God thanking him that he was still shrouded in darkness so Eddie couldn’t see. “Ah, sorry! I got zoned out, heh. Your hair looks fine to me, I like it when it’s a little long like--” Oh what the hell was he saying?! “Fuck, the food is gonna get cold, let’s get in and warm the luggages up,” he laughed awkwardly, his words mixing up and turning into a rambling mess. He got out of the car, forgetting his seatbelt was on and grunting. He flashed Eddie a smile that probably looked closer to a grimace as he fumbled for the belt and released it, jumping out and getting their bags out of the trunk. Once they got to the front door, he bent down and moved a cat statue to grab the key, straightening up and taking a deep breath. This was nothing, it wasn’t like he was showing Eddie his own house. He unlocked the door and opened it, holding his breath as he stepped inside and held the door for Eddie who walked in looking around with wide curious eyes as they made their way upstairs.
Eddie whistled low in his throat, liking how comforting the whole place seemed. The walls were a soft cream colored, with beautifully stained wooden floors. He heard chirping, letting Dave close the door and a smile breaking out when a cat came running to them from the couch. “Hola, gato, what’s your name?” he greeted, crouching down and petting the purring animal with his free hand. It was small and long-furred, the coat white with a few orange blobs spotting it.
“His name is Kevin,” Dave did remember his friend mentioning the cat. “The agreement was me to take care of him while I’m here for a couple weeks,” he put their bags in the dining room area, deciding they could unpack. “I’m guessing we’ll be stuck here for a bit…” he trailed off, knowing Vince was going to put everything on hold until there were answers. He didn’t need to mention that, not wanting to bring Eddie’s mood down.
“Funny name for a gato,” Eddie shook his head, smile not leaving his face as the cat practically flopped on the ground and yowled at him to keep petting. “Okay, okay, your majesty, but we need to eat,” he chided, marveling at how soft the fur was as he ran his hand over the exposed belly. He heard Dave talking and stood up, walking over to the other man and looking at the rooms. “I could get used to this,” he murmured, placing the Burger King bag on the table and stretching with a groan before pulling out a chair. “I’m …. I don’t think I can sleep tonight…” he spoke quietly as he dug for his food while Dave sat on the opposite side.
Dave studied Eddie’s features, hating how the eyes were starting to cloud again. “That’s okay, I won’t either,” he hummed, smiling when he got a confused frown. “There is a ton of movies, and we have the best surround system of the neighborhood,” he gestured at the living room, a bookshelf filled with dvds from top to bottom and large speakers on either side of the tv stand. “We can do a movie marathon! I haven’t done an all nighter in age, but the good news is there’s a coffee shop a few blocks away,” he chattered, biting into his burger and nodding in approval at the greasy aftertaste. “What’s your poison? Horror? Comedy? If it’s chick flicks, I’m telling everyone,” he licked at his fingers.
Eddie was about to take a bite out of his chicken sandwich when Dave mentioned chick flicks, rolling his eyes and throwing a french fry at the rookie. “Don’t be ridiculous. My ex made me watch every single one when I was with her. I rather poke my eyes out,” he muttered, taking a sip out of the pop and eating his sandwich. He felt warm inside, the fact that he wasn’t going to spend a whole night alone staring at a wall bringing comfort to him. “If you’re nice, I might paint your nails,” he teased, smirking when Dave started choking. “Pink’s a good look on you, papi,” he hummed.
Dave swore he couldn’t get any redder, chugging his coke down to get the beef chunk down his throat. “Sh-Shut up,” he stammered, feeling hot and averting his gaze to the couch. ‘Oh god…’ it was large enough to fit both of them, but it was still going to be a tight fit and Eddie was going to be practically squeezed against him. He wasn’t sure if he would survive the night with the latino. “Let’s finish eating and then we can do the movies…” he grumbled, pretending he didn’t hear Eddie snickering.
Batista found a couple of fleece blankets once they were both changed into more comfortable clothes, him choosing to wear sweatpants with an oversized tank top. He carried the blankets to the living room where Eddie was already sitting, the shorter man donned in basketball shirts and a gym tee shirt that was easily three times too large. It must have been one of Mark’s that the veteran gave to Eddie. Dave wondered briefly if he could sneak some of his own shirts in Eddie’s bag without his colleague noticing. He sat down, pretending that his heart wasn’t hammering in his chest from how he could feel the other’s leg brushing against his thigh. “Here, get cozy,” he murmured, giving him the red one while he kept the green plush. Kevin jumped on the back of the couch and laid down with the paws tucked underneath him, the tail slapping Dave’s head.
Eddie cheerfully took it, wrapping it around his frame and sighing contently. It was freezing in the duplex, and he didn’t pack anything warmer since he was originally going back to Mark’s. He had texted the man before they left the arena, but kept his phone on silence since he was too scared to see the deadman’s reaction. He scooted against Batista once the man was in position, resting his cheek against a muscular bicep and smiling softly. “You’re warm….” he murmured, hugging the arm and looking expectantly up at the man. “Hm? Aren’t you gonna turn the movie on? I told you to surprise me,” he teased, poking at the ribs.
Dave swore he could hear steam escaping his ears and he let out a huff of laughter but it came out strangled. “Yes! Yes, a movie, yes I will do that,” he bleated, grabbing the remote from the coffee table and turning the television on. He already had a movie picked up, but his thoughts were racing at light speed and all he could focus on was how Eddie was practically cuddling him. This was good, yes? But he shouldn’t get so excited. They were just friends, friends cuddled, didn't they?
This was going to be a long night.