Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, they belong to WWE and Vince McMahon, I'm just playing around with them for a while.


A/N: This'll only be a two or three parter, just letting you guys know. I'd really appreciate any and all reviews. Thanks a bunch.


What she wouldn't give to see him again.

She might give her right arm. It was useless to her without him anyways. She felt useless without him, like she was incapable of feeling, of emoting, of living. She just needed to feel him, to see him even, but she couldn't, she didn't, she hadn't…

She just wanted to see him, was that too much to ask? She would even do it from afar if that was the only option available to her. She didn't want to sound like a stalker, but she would be willing to watch him, even if it was through a window, through a wall, through a barrier that was sound-proof so she couldn't call out his name desperately.

Chris.

The word just fell from her tongue like sap from a tree, slow and deliberate. She sometimes woke up with the name rolling softly off her tongue and she would freeze, hoping that nobody could hear her desperate pleas. She saw him in her dreams occasionally. He didn't haunt her dreams and she was sad over that fact. She wanted him to haunter her dreams. She wanted to see his face every night that she fell asleep, but it wasn't to be, it just wasn't to be. But sometimes, if she was lucky and her mind was in the right place, she dreamt of him.

Did he think of her? She wondered sometimes and she was tempted to ask Shane if he mentioned her, just a little, just to ask how she was. But she was a chicken. She was a chicken and didn't want to ask. She didn't want to know if he hadn't, and if he had, maybe it would hurt her so much that her heart would burst in her chest.

Jericho.

A name she wanted and yet couldn't have. A name that fit her somehow and yet eluded her to the point of distraction. It was like the carrot being dangled in front of the horse, just out of reach, but never out of sight. She had been close once, or so she had thought. Perhaps she had never been as close as she thought, and she had daydreamed it, had imagined that she could have her way just this once. For a person who was used to having her way, nothing seemed to go her way after she hadn't grabbed his name and held onto it as firmly as he used to hold onto her.

Destiny.

A word that mocked her, because if this was her destiny, then the world needed to die. The Earth needed to be swallowed up by the burning embers of the sun. Everything needed to just fade into an oblivion for the ages. If her destiny was to live like this, in this state of continuous limbo, then everything should just cease to be. If her destiny was to never see him again, then she didn't want to live her life. She didn't feel the need to live out her days if her destiny didn't bring him to her.

So she sat and she waited and she needed, but she never got. She would sit at her desk, a wheel squeaking constantly, and she would wait. Every time the door opened, she would wonder, but she didn't dare hope. Hope was for the people who still believed and she wasn't sure that she believed anymore. She wasn't sure that she should ever believe in anything again because the one thing she wanted to believe in was never going to come true. The one thing she needed to believe in, it was just never going to happen and the sooner that she accepted that, the sooner that she could just stop believing altogether.

Fading away.

She felt it, that's how she felt. She felt like she was fading away into nothingness. If a mist could just come and claim her, she would float away willingly. It was weird to feel this way. Was she once so vibrant that no neon color could even stand out against her tan skin? Were her eyes ever so blue that they made the ocean a colorless mass of black? She didn't feel it anymore. When she looked into the mirror, she saw a disaster, flat, limp hair, sallow cheeks, pale skin and eyes so frighteningly dead she sometimes believed herself to be a corpse.

So why couldn't anyone else see it?

Why didn't anybody call her out, call her for what she was, a shell of a person. Why didn't they yell, "Stephanie, what is wrong with you!"? Maybe her reflection was wrong. Maybe her reflection was just what she saw and not what anybody else. Maybe she knew the truth, but to the world, she was the same Stephanie McMahon, the same woman, the same head of creative, the same, the same, the same…

Except she wasn't the same.

So she kept waiting and sitting; she kept looking up when the door opened hoping that he would be the person on the other side, that he would peek his head in and smile at her in that way that he used to. She knew that it wasn't going to happen, but she still clung to that shred of hope that he would show up.

It was her fault.

She had sent him away, it was only her own fault that she was feeling this way, that she was feeling so empty. If she had just chosen better words, if she had found her voice in a more rational way, maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't have ended up this way. Maybe she wouldn't be an empty vessel sailing on a lonely and deserted stream. Now she was thinking up crazy metaphors, maybe that was part of her madness. In her madness came this sense of weird understanding.

She never should've told him to go.

Stephanie did not have many regrets in her life, but this was her hugest one, the one that hung over her head like a cloud hanging over her. It was the elephant in the room, and yet, she refused to let it go, to move on. She should just chalk up the regret to life and then start living again, but she had yet to figure out how to live with someone who was such an integral part of her soul.

They had fought.

She had told him to leave, had sent him away. She never expected him to take up the offer. She had thought that him grabbing her bags had been for show, she had thought, she had thought, she had thought…but none of that really mattered anymore because he had grabbed his bag for that last time and he had left, and he hadn't been back. He wasn't coming back she realized now. It had been months and months and he hadn't even so much as breathed in her direction. She just had to accept that he was truly out of her life.

What she wouldn't give to have Chris Jericho back in her life.