Title: Endless Love

Author: Crimson Coin

Rating: PG 15 and higher at some points. Warning: Language.

Summery: The sequel to "Unstoppable". Will Chris Jericho and Trish Stratus's love truly be able to last?

Disclaimer: I do not own the WWE or any of the affiliated wrestlers.

Timeline: From March 22, 2004 and all said dates.

Archiving: Ask me first.

September 27, 2004

Randy Orton nodded, his eyes focused intensely on the woman at his side. "I'm sure about this. I really think I got to Ric tonight. I think he might believe me."

Trish sighed with a shake of the head. "This doesn't feel right and it's only gonna end in disaster."

"Don't you worry about me." Randy said, resting a gentle arm on her shoulder. "I'm gonna be fine. Now go on, don't you worry."

She was about to speak, but Randy had turned his back and walked away. Slightly defeated, Trish continued down the corridor, her belt draped casually over her shoulder.

"Ah, Trish Stratus."

She stopped at the voice, her head turning slightly to gaze at the man who spoke, Eric Bischoff.

Eric smiled his typical sleazy smile. "Trish, let me tell you. That was one phenomenal initiation you had out there."

"Yeah, thanks, Eric." Trish answered, unenthused. "Look, I've got to run."

"Not a problem." Eric drawled. "Just letting you know that you're doing a fantastic job."

Trish didn't even acknowledge him with a response, but quickened her pace down the corridor. Turning a corner, she slipped into the first door. Luckily, it was the door she wanted anyway.


"Hey," she sighed, walking further into the room then tossed her belt on one of the chairs, the same chair his belt was on. The belts clinked together, then rest quietly in their place. She raked a hand through her hair, dragging her feet to the sofa then fell back onto it, releasing a tired breath.

"What's wrong?"

She only shook her head, her eyes on the ceiling. "Randy's gonna kill himself." She closed her eyes as she felt the cushion sink at her side and she knew he was there. She could feel his warmth, that sweet wonderful warmth that she'd missed so.

"Do you want me to go out there and help him?"

Trish's eyes popped open as she looked quickly to the side, her brown eyes meeting his ice blue. "You ... you'd do that?"

Chris Jericho shrugged, nonchalantly. "Sure if ... if you want me to."

She cocked her head, her eyes unwavering from his. "You ... you would, wouldn't you."

He remained serious, his voice low and deep. "I broke a man's neck for you. Helping Randy is nothing compared to that."

Her eyes widened. "You what?"

Chris gave a slow nod. "Why do you think Drew isn't here anymore?"

Trish didn't respond, her eyes swimming with this overwhelming situation.

He sighed, leaning back into the couch. "That day, when I saw him with his hands on you. I guess I was rougher with him than I thought. But he deserved it and he's fucking lucky I didn't kill him. Because after you walked away, I was damn near close to stalking back to him to finish the job."


"What?" he answered, his voice rising a little in anger. "I'm not sorry I did it. I don't regret it and if I had the chance to do it again, I'd do it in an instant. But not hold back this time."

"Oh Chris," she breathed, a sorrow filling her eyes at his admission. "You ... you don't need to do things like that. You came to my rescue and even ... even the thought of why you would confuses the hell outta me."

"Is it really not that obvious?" Jericho bowed his head. "I heard your cry." He said softly. "It nearly killed me. I had to run. And then I get there and I see him and I ... I lost control."

Trish reached out, grabbing his hand in hers and pulling it into her lap. She gently shook his hand, jostling him out of his revere and she met his eyes. "Thank you. For that day. For helping me. I ... I don't know what would have happened..."

"I do." Chris said intensely. "And I don't want to think about it. Because then Drew would be dead. And I'd be in prison." He sighed. "Do you want me to help Randy?" He stood then, walking to the door and he pulled the T-shirt off his head as he walked out.

"Chris." She called, racing after him, her eyes filled with worry. "No, Chris, wait." She caught up to him at the curtain and grabbed his hand before he stepped through, pulling him back. "Chris, no."

He turned to her, his eyes filled with intensity yet still a sorrow. "I can see it in your eyes. How worried you are about him. And Evolution is standing out there over his body. So I'm going to go out there, before they continue to beat him down."

"But Chris," Trish cried, softly, not releasing his hand. "But there're three of them out there and ... and Randy's ... he ... he looks unconscious. You ... you can't take them all."

"No," He answered and then his crystal eyes mirrored excruciating sadness. "But I can keep them from hurting the man you love."

Shocked, Trish's grip loosened and Chris charged out from behind the curtain and down the ramp. "Oh God," she panicked, peeking out and down the ramp. The crowd was already dispersing, the cameras turned off. And yet the moment Jericho burst down the ramp, they all stopped. The crowd roared as Jericho slid into the ring and dove at Hunter.

Trish shook her head, glancing behind her quickly, but no one was around. "Damn it!" she swore then charged out and ran down the ramp. She heard the crowd boo, heard their jeers and sneers. But she didn't care. She didn't know what she could do, but it had to be better than nothing.

Her heart raced in her throat as Jericho leapt from Hunter then tackled Batista to the ground. Quickly bouncing up, he nailed Flair with a clothesline then turned his attention to Hunter. Her eyes widened when Chris was attacked from behind, Batista smashing a hard forearm on Jericho's back.

She swallowed hard, trying desperately to rid the lump and she stopped at ringside, peeking up at them. Her eyes searched, frantically. Randy was still unconscious and Batista and Hunter continued punching and slamming their arms against Chris's back and neck. "Ric!" she cried.

Flair turned suddenly, his eyes meeting the woman's and Trish offered a frightened glance. Flair's gaze was one of regret, and one of pleading. He did nothing though. But he would not attack.

Trish watched, scared and flustered as Batista backed away from Jericho and towards the ropes, right in front of her. Desperate to do something, through the crowd's boos, she reached into the ring, wrapping her arms around Batista's leg.

Dave snarled, turning and looking down at the woman that held him. Trish gazed up at him, her eyes pleading, begging for him not to do anything. He hesitated, his eyes locking on the woman's eyes and his features softened for a moment before a sadistic smile spread across his face.

Dave kicked his leg, his foot hitting Trish in the chest and the crowd's boos were deafening as Trish tumbled back, curling into herself as she coughed. Her arms clutched at her breasts and she winced, squeezing her eyes shut to keep from tearing.

Exhaling a few long breaths, Trish forced her eyes open and looked into the ring. She heard the crowd roar and hoped, prayed that someone else was coming to the ring. Her heart clenched and she pushed up, standing on shaky legs. "No!"

Hunter hurled Chris into the ropes and dazed, Chris bounced back. Dave let out a loud roar, his arm raised as he hit Chris in the head with that devastating clothesline. Chris limply hit the mat, his eyes closed as he laid a crumpled mess.

Trish jostled when two bodies raced past her and slid into the ring. The crowd cheered and roared as Chris Benoit and William Regal attacked Evolution, Regal already wearing his brass knuckles.

Uncaring of her own condition, Trish clenched her teeth and slid into the ring as Evolution made a quick exit. She quickly stood, glancing from one fallen body to the next. Randy ... Chris ...

The crowd continued to cheer as Benoit and Regal stood near the ropes, pointing and taunting the members of Evolution. Randy stirred.

Trish's eyes widened and she quickly dropped at Randy's side. She reached out, placing her hands on his chest then up his neck, one eventually cupping his face. "Randy? Randy?"

Randy Orton moaned, his eyes glazed but slowly focusing. "Mmmm," he shifted his weight, his eyes desperately searching for the voice. "Trish," he licked his lips then raised a hand to his head.

Trish's eyes searched his, worry consuming her. "Are you ok? Are ... are you ok?"

"Yeah," Randy said quickly, his head tilting to the side as he took in the sight. Evolution on the ramp, Chris stirring on the other side of the ring and Benoit by the other Canadian's side as Regal shouted over the ropes. "Chris." He said softly. "Go to him."

Trish rested her hand on his chest, leaning slightly on him for balance as she looked over her shoulder and she met Chris's eyes. A strange sense of sadness filled her at those eyes. Those beautiful crystalline eyes that spoke everything, that hid nothing. The sorrow, the rejection, the pain. Why did he look at her like that?

"Go on."

Trish looked down at Randy at the voice.

Randy smiled, sweetly, his hand resting on hers for a moment. "Trust me. Go to him."

She wasted no more time. Quickly she jumped to her feet and ran to Jericho's side, falling onto her knees as she reached out. "Chris." She breathed his name, running her fingers through his matted hair. "Are you ok?" She leaned down, looking straight into his dilated eyes.

Chris licked his lips, his head spinning. "You ... you can ... go to Randy. He ... he probably wants you ... by his side."

Trish shook her head, grateful that Benoit had left to check on Randy and she leaned down a little further, her eyes searching his even more intensely. "Look at me. Do you have a concussion?"

"I ..." he closed his eyes. "I don't know."

"Here," she coaxed. "Stand for me." She reached out, her hands on his chest, rubbing slowly to motivate him. "Come on."

Chris moaned when she pulled on him lightly and he regretfully obeyed, letting her pull him into a sitting position. His head spun and he reached up, cupping his head for a moment.

"Easy," she cooed, brushing her fingers through his hair and the crowd was a mix of cheers and boos. She didn't care though. She didn't care what anyone thought.

"I'm ok." He said, shrugging away her hands. "Randy ... you can ..."

But Trish didn't give up. She placed one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching out to cup his cheek.

Jericho gasped, his eyes flying open as she tilted his head towards her and he locked eyes with hers. He nearly trembled, almost collapsed at the look in her eyes. How beautifully and tenderly, yet intensely she looked at him.

She stroked her thumb along his cheek and the crowd boos filled the arena. They thought she was going to hurt him. How could they EVER think that? She felt her heart pull at the realization that the crowd was right in their reason for doubting her.

Chris swallowed hard, unable to look away and he sucked his lip into his mouth.

Trish brushed her thumb back along his cheek then down, coaxing at his lips, just brushing them gently and her heart melted when his lips parted with a sigh. "I didn't come out here for Randy. I came out ... for you."

Chris felt his heart swell, his body surging with the sudden emotion that enveloped him. The wondrous affection he saw in her eyes, felt in her touch.

She smiled, beautifully and tenderly.

He almost collapsed. She hadn't smiled at him like that in such a long time. The last time he remembered that smile, they were in Boston. And they were in that alley. It was the night of their first kiss.

Trish exhaled a sigh, loving the way he shivered as her breath caressed his face. "It's you I'm here for."

Chris could hear the fans yelling and screaming, some voices carrying through for him to push her away. But he couldn't. He just couldn't push her away. On the contrary, he wanted to pull her into his arms. He wanted to embrace her. He wanted to hold her and kiss her and make love to her all that very moment, in front of the world.

He quickly closed his eyes. No, he couldn't do that. Clenching his teeth, Chris staggered to his feet, shuddering as her hands touched his bare chest, holding him slightly steady as he lost his balance, tripping over his feet to the ropes.

"Whoa," She giggled, unable to keep from chuckling as he stumbled gracelessly. "Easy there." She cooed, rubbing a hand up his arm as he leaned back against the ropes, letting them keep him upright.

Chris nodded, doing his best to control his heart and his body and his desire to kiss her breathless. But he couldn't do that. She didn't want to kiss him. She only ... she was only concerned. She just didn't want to see him hurt. That's it.

His eyes suddenly grew sad as she gave him a pat on the chest, then walked over to Randy, helping Benoit get the younger man to stand. He couldn't help the jealousy that coursed through his body at the site of her touching the other man. How she cupped his cheek to look in his eyes then smiled brilliantly at him. That jealousy raced through his heart, through his mind until the point where he was nauseous.

Defeated, he closed his eyes, releasing a sigh to try to breathe normally again. Then he jumped, his eyes flying open.

Trish was at his side again, her hands on him and that gorgeous smile on her face. Glancing around the ring, he noticed Randy was already out, Benoit helping him walk and Regal walking close by. It was only he and Trish in the ring.

He could hear the crowd reactions, hear their boos and their chants and some even cheering. The ones that cheered, Chris knew they could see. They could see that her eyes didn't lie. They could see this wasn't the same Trish Stratus that stripped Christy Hemme to her underwear. This wasn't the same Trish Stratus that slapped him at Wrestlemania. This was the Trish Stratus they all loved. The Trish Stratus he loved. The Trish Stratus who loved him.

Chris felt a smile pulling at his lips as he gazed down into her eyes and all of a sudden, he was back in time. Back when things were fine between them. When they had matches together and after winning, she would embrace him, hug him and nuzzle him nose to nose. How much he missed that. How much he missed her.

"Come on, Sweetie." She said, softly, uncaring of the mixed crowd reaction. They didn't matter. What mattered was that he could read her eyes, read her heart. Nobody else mattered. She reached up, brushing her fingers along his cheek for a moment. "Let's get out of here."

Chris offered a sweeter smile as he leaned on her for support and they slowly walked to the ropes then slid out. And walking up the ramp, her by his side, Chris knew she really cared about him. She still cared about him. And he knew that he still loved her. He was still madly in love with her. And maybe, one day, when he found the courage, he would tell her.

One day.

One day when he could be the man that she once loved. When he could be a man. When he could win her love again.

Chris paused once at the top of the ramp, glancing to his side. She was confused at why they stopped at first and she looked up at him, hopefully onto his handsome face.

His heart melted. Yes, he would win her love again. And one day, he would finally hold her, love her the way she deserved. One day he would prove that his love was endless. One day ...

One day


(Yes this is the end of Endless Love. BUT ... I know I have a lot of loose ends that I didn't tie together so here's the deal. I can continue this story with a sequel to the sequel about their budding relationship and how they work through it. Chris's healing, Trish's past, etc. And I can finish up the Jeff/Lita and the Edge/Jericho conflicts along with the Christian fiasco. But this all depends on my readers. If you want me to write more in another story. If so, I will post it here. Review me and let me know. If not, if there's not enough interest. Well, this is the end. Thanks for reading.)