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Charlotte never thought much about how things began, only that they did. It was the easy thing to do; it doesn’t overcomplicate stuff and allows her to continue with her very fast-paced life without any missteps. That’s how she liked doing things—she liked to move forward and run straight ahead to the next big thing she set her eyes on. And once upon a time, her “next big thing” was the tag team titles.
Charlotte never bothered to think about how it all happened, only that it did. One day, this five feet of fury stood in front of her, pitching the idea to her as if it were the most logical thing to do. As if it were natural that she, Charlotte Flair, 14-time world champion who never liked to share the spotlight with anybody else, should go for the tag team championship instead of trying to chase the elusive 15th world title that she could add to her repertoire. The old Charlotte, the Charlotte who knew better than to try to work with another person, the Charlotte that freshly came back from her injury with a clear goal set in her mind, would’ve pushed the thought away, and she did. Initially.
But one thing about Alexa Bliss, something that she and Charlotte had in common, was that she’s relentless when it came to anything she wanted to have. And what she wanted was the tag titles, and she wanted them with Charlotte for some odd reason that Charlotte didn’t want to inspect any further. At some point, Charlotte had found herself reluctantly agreeing to the idea. She figured this would still end with her having gold around her waist. Why resist it?
They weren’t friends. She didn’t know why she had to remind Alexa of the fact every time, but Charlotte felt like some sort of boundary had to be established between them. They weren’t enemies, either. Allies of convenience was what they decided to call themselves. Just two people moving in the same direction because they have the same finish line in sight. Surprisingly— or maybe not, they’re two of the most decorated single stars of the division after all— winning came easily for them, even with all their bickering. The tag titles stopped feeling like this faraway thing they have to chase for a long while and started feeling inevitable, as if the road had always been pointing them there.
And when Summerslam came around, when they raised their hands while holding the titles as the speakers all around the stadium blasted, “And new women’s tag team champions, Alexa Bliss and Charlotte Flair,” Charlotte looked around and realized that they just reached the finish they both were aiming for. At the same time, though, it also felt like another beginning. Only there was one huge difference: it wasn’t about running toward something anymore, but rather running with Alexa— wherever it took them.
Charlotte could not say exactly what she was expecting when the titles were finally theirs. But, she definitely wasn’t expecting the crowd to do a full 180 on her. When she came back, won the rumble, faced Tiffany at Wrestlemania, and the whole build-up to that match, it didn’t feel like an exaggeration to say that Charlotte was not one of the names on top of the list of fan favorites. She actually might’ve been at the very bottom. So, for them to warm up to this version of her with Alexa, for them to cheer her on, to hear all the “woos” in the crowd, was a very welcome surprise. Above all, Charlotte never expected how alive it felt, how alive she felt. It wasn’t like something she ever felt before, and that’s saying something considering the long list of accolades she has under her belt. The tag division was thriving, and Charlotte couldn’t help but feel a quiet sense of pride knowing that at the very center of it was her and Alexa. It wasn’t just a simple addition to her achievements; it felt more meaningful not only to her career but to her personally, as well.
Along the way, Alexa managed to worm her way through the carefully built defenses she had built over the years. Charlotte had thought her walls were raised so high that it would be impossible for anyone else to climb over them, but Alexa didn’t even have to do that. Charlotte simply found herself willingly letting her in. It was easy, just like all the other things they did together. Before she knew it, before fear could get the best of her, Charlotte, who had built her career around being in control of everything, had allowed Alexa to set the tempo sometimes (most of the time, honestly). Charlotte had let herself fall into step instead of leading the way. With Alexa, she realized she would follow her anywhere she goes, with little to no questions asked. Charlotte didn’t really notice when the finish line stopped being the point; all she knew was that if it was with Alexa, it was the right path.
So, when they lost their titles, it felt abrupt— like tripping after a long stretch of perfect footing, like reaching a dead-end of a one-way street. It happened all so quickly. A flurry of emotions raced through her veins. Anger for the way Nia and Lash interfered with their match, frustration at herself for not knowing better and not anticipating them pulling the shit they pulled, a rush of adrenaline when Iyo and Rhea suddenly appeared, screaming “War Games”, and then a huge amount of dread washing over her whole body when she realized that might’ve been it for Alexa and her. It felt cruel that, as she was just getting comfortable having someone by her side, it was being taken away from her. So, she hugged Alexa for as long as she could, as tight as she could, hoping that it was enough to get her message across: I’m not ready for this to end just yet.
Maybe it was when Alexa announced in front of everyone at Madison Square Garden that she defied all those who said not to bother with Charlotte, when she firmly declared that she knew Charlotte and knew who she could be, when she said that they could always win the titles back, that everything clicked in Charlotte’s brain. Alexa didn’t want to stop either, and that felt like a huge boulder on top of her shoulders was lifted. Charlotte had no problem backtracking, going back to the very beginning, resetting their strides, and starting to run the long road ahead of them again. Charlotte never questioned the distance it would take that time; it really didn’t matter, as long as Alexa was still running with her.
Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned into months, and it seemed like the road to getting their titles back was much longer than when they were chasing it the first time around. And yet, Charlotte couldn’t find it in herself to be bothered by the fact. She didn’t know how it was possible, but her relationship with Alexa just got even stronger without the championship— a slap in the faces of all those who swore they would end up abandoning each other the moment they lost them. The thought of Alexa turning her back on her might’ve crossed briefly on Charlotte’s mind, but that was easily erased when Alexa stayed stuck to her side when they confronted Iyo and Rhea after War Games. She might’ve feared that her own selfish tendencies of putting a championship over anybody else could come crashing back, but it never did. It was the first time in a long while that Charlotte felt genuinely at peace, in the comforts within Alexa’s orbit, and felt like she could be happy doing anything as long as it was with the shorter woman who had claimed a spot in Charlotte’s newly defrosted heart.
Still, they both knew what they wanted. Even when it felt like everything and everyone was going against them, they continued running. Through misunderstandings, through other people planting seeds of doubts in their heads, through an accidental royal rumble elimination, they continued to run. Charlotte told herself this was just what it meant to want something badly enough— to keep moving even when the incline steepened and the finish line refused to come into focus. But sooner rather than later, she caught a glimpse of what the end of this race looked like, and she knew it was only a matter of time before Alexa and her won again.
Wrestlemania 42. When Charlotte pointed at the sign during the rumble and claimed that they were going together, she had only said it first to prove to everyone what she was willing to do for Alexa. Some kind of gesture to make everyone see that she could put their relationship above anything else. But when all was said and done, when she was alone in the comforts of her hotel room that night, she realized that she really wanted to be at mania with Alexa. She wanted to go to the most important event of the year with her, celebrate a win with her, and bask in the joy of it all. She wanted to do it all together with Alexa. (And maybe she should’ve been worried about realizing why she thought she wanted to do basically everything with Alexa from that point onwards, but the worry never came.)
It felt right that they were in the TLC match for the tag titles; she would’ve run berserk if they weren’t, honestly. The match felt fitting for all the teams involved. They both went into the match confident (maybe overly so) that they’d finally have their titles back. They already had their celebration planned for the night. They’ve had it pictured so clearly in their heads. And for a moment, for several dangerous moments during the match, the titles were within their reach. It felt like it was possible to be at the top of the world, together, again.
But when the bell rang, sharp and final, the sound cut through Charlotte in a way she wasn’t prepared for. The announcement echoed over the crowd—new tag team champions, Nikki Bella and Brie Bella—and the words landed with a weight that had nothing to do with loss itself. Charlotte lay there, staring up at the lights, chest rising and falling, and all she could think was now what?
Alexa hasn’t said a single word to her ever since the match finished.
They made their way back to the locker room, Charlotte’s arm around Alexa’s waist to help her, and Charlotte occasionally nodded in acknowledgement to anyone they passed by. Charlotte liked to think that she knew Alexa, that she had become some kind of expert when it came to reading her thoughts, and yet, Charlotte could only stare helplessly as Alexa silently packed her bags, her face void of any emotions. She let out a sigh; she thought it best to give Alexa some space. She figured she was disappointed, losing in her first Wrestlemania in so long probably doesn’t feel good.
Except, it has been 30 minutes since they arrived at their shared hotel room, and Alexa still hasn’t uttered a single thing.
Charlotte decided to approach the couch on which Alexa had been sitting, absentmindedly fidgeting with her fingers, and softly called out. “Lexi?”
No answer. She stepped closer and called out again, a little louder this time. “Lexi?”
Alexa finally looked at her, and the first thing Charlotte noticed was her eyes. They had always been striking to Charlotte, a beautiful shade of blue that had the ability to go from the most piercing gaze to the softest of looks. So, the worry that Charlotte felt was justified when the first thing she saw in her eyes was how tired they looked. She almost looked empty with the hollowness in her eyes, and Charlotte could not recall a time she had ever seen Alexa look like that. She sat close next to Alexa, their shoulders almost touching, her eyebrows furrowed in concern, when Alexa finally spoke. “Charlotte, hey.”
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Charlotte asked softly, almost afraid to be too loud. Alexa shook her head and let out a small smile, “No, I’m fine. Just exhausted.”
Then, in a move that surprised Charlotte, Alexa reached out to hold her hand and squeezed it. “I’m sorry if I had been silent. You know how I get after a tough match,” She looked at Charlotte for confirmation, to which Charlotte nodded in understanding, and then continued. “I hope I didn’t make you worry too much.”
It was Charlotte’s turn to shake her head. “What’s on your mind? You know you could talk to me, right?”
Alexa took a deep breath and lowered her head. “I just hoped.. I don’t know.” Charlotte squeezed her hand, and Alexa turned to her, the tell-tale signs of tears wanting to fall now evident in her eyes, “I just wish I was better out there.”
Charlotte’s heart ached when she heard that. They had both wanted the win so badly, had been chasing for this for so long, that the only outcome they considered possible was them coming out victorious by the end of it. Yet here they are, another dead-end. But it wasn’t Alexa’s fault, Charlotte knew they both left their all out there. They fought hard, and maybe that’s why the loss feels so much bigger. She gently grabbed Lexi’s face to gently wipe her tears, “Hey, Lexi, listen to me, okay? You did your best. I did my best. As far as I’m concerned, we both did our best out there. It just wasn’t our night.”
Alexa sniffed, still looking unconvinced. Charlotte thought for a second before patting her head, fingers threading lightly through blonde strands she had grown so used to touching without thinking. “Hey, don’t overthink it too much. I’m sure we’ll get them back on our next try.”
What Charlotte was expecting was a smile, a nod in agreement, and the usual Yeah, we will from Alexa, but all she got was silence. Charlotte’s hand stilled against Alexa’s hair, and something uneasy twisted low in her stomach. “We will try again, right?” She asked again, her voice softer now, less certain.
“Charlotte…”
Oh.
She wanted to pull her hand away, to create even an inch of distance before whatever came next fully landed, but Alexa caught her wrist gently, fingers warm and firm. Charlotte avoided Alexa’s gaze and turned her head away instead, jaw tightening. “Charlotte, please look at me.”
“I don’t want to.” It didn’t escape her that she almost sounded like a ten-year-old kid rebelling against her parents, but Charlotte could not bring herself to care at the moment.
Alexa squeezed her hand again, thumb brushing over Charlotte’s knuckles in a slow, grounding stroke. “Please, Char.” Her voice dipped into something small and intimate, the tone she only ever used when it was just them.
Charlotte exhaled through her nose and looked at her—resisting Alexa had never been one of her strongest suits.
“We had a great run, Charlotte.”
Charlotte’s lips pressed into a thin line. She could still feel the phantom weight of the titles around her waist, like muscle memory refusing to fade. “But?”
Alexa swallowed, fingers tightening just slightly. “But I think this is it. I think this is our finish line.”
Charlotte huffed a humorless breath, trying to keep it light, trying to outrun the sting. “Well, normally when I reach a finish line, there’s some kind of prize waiting for me. I don’t see one here.”
Alexa’s lips curved—not into a grin, but into something softer. Surer. She shifted closer, their knees brushing, their shoulders touching fully now. “There is one. Me. I’m your prize.”
Charlotte let out a short breath that might have been a laugh. “Think highly of yourself, huh?”
“I’m serious. You have me. We started this race together, and we’re finishing it together. We stuck around. That’s a pretty great prize, don’t you think?”
Charlotte’s resolve wavered at the edges. She studied Alexa’s face from this close—every familiar line, every flicker of emotion she’d learned how to read. “You want to enter a whole new race, then?”
Alexa nodded slowly. “I think we both need to.”
Charlotte’s fingers shifted, sliding down to lace with Alexa’s properly now. Their hands fit perfectly, and felt so right for both of them, like this was always how it’s supposed to be. “Even if it means not being with each other?”
Alexa’s breath caught, but she didn’t look away. “Well… I was hoping once I finish my race, you’d be there waiting for me at the finish line.” A small smile tugged at her mouth. “I know I’ll be there for yours.”
Charlotte’s throat worked as she swallowed. She pretended to consider it, tilting her head just slightly. “Hmm. Fine. I’ll be there with my pompoms.”
Alexa let out a quiet laugh, the sound brushing against Charlotte’s skin like relief. “I can’t think of anything better.”
Silence settled over them again, but this time it wasn’t heavy. Charlotte traced absent patterns against the back of Alexa’s hand, memorizing the shape, the warmth, the steadiness.
“I love you, Lex. You know that, right?” Her voice dropped, stripped of bravado and banners and bright lights. Just Charlotte.
“I do.” Alexa’s thumb brushed over Charlotte’s pulse point. “And you know I love you too, right?”
“Always have.”
A beat passed between them, thick with everything they weren’t saying.
Alexa’s eyes flickered with mischief, just enough to lighten the air. “Now I just have to find someone else to do the heart hands with me.”
Charlotte gasped, pulling back just enough to glare at her, scandalized. “It’s a joke,” Alexa added quickly, grinning now.
“It better be.”
As Charlotte said it, she leaned in again, the two of them forehead to forehead, like this was the only finish line that had ever really mattered.