Chapter Text
“That’s what makes it so much better, sure the acting is a bit off in some parts, but they make up for it with the plot twists,” Charlotte says. She waits for Alexa to exit the elevator before following after her. The takeout boxes warm her hands. “I mean who expects the girl from the helicopter to come back?! Especially alive.”
“Just because it’s surprising doesn’t make it good,” Alexa shakes her head. There’s a small smile on her face, but Charlotte can sense the fragility in it. They’ve both been doing a good job keeping the peace, ignoring the undercurrent of disappointment and unsureness that has hung over them the past few weeks, growing bigger and bigger with each subsequent loss. Charlotte doesn’t know for how much longer it will hold. But she will not be the one to break it.
They slow down the closer they get to the hotel room they’re sharing. Charlotte just wants to prolong this temporary ease they’ve finally found themselves in.
But Alexa looks at her. “Hey, do you have the key?”
“Pocket.” Charlotte begins to shift the boxes into one hand to grab it, but Alexa gets there before her, sneaking her hand into Charlotte’s jacket. For a moment Charlotte finds herself ticklish, squirming away and almost dropping their food in the process. “Hey!” she yelps, but Alexa’s already pulled out the room key, and is wriggling her fingers in a taunt, card tucked between pointer and thumb.
“You’re already carrying the food,” Alexa says, “leave some work for me.” She unlocks the door, while still looking back at Charlotte. “We’re a team, you know?”
“I can’t believe you…” Charlotte says. She means it in the joking sense, but while Alexa enters the room, she falters, and remains standing in the hallway.
She’s been thinking about it a lot lately. Them being a team. What Charlotte, selfish, uncooperative, difficult, once thought herself incapable of having. And it had been at first- difficult, and strange. She’d many times considered leaving, considered abandoning ship at every little sway of the boat, but something about Alexa had made her stick around. Maybe the comments about the version of her she didn’t remember, the claim that Charlotte had cared for Alexa in NXT had struck a cord. Or maybe the thought of being alone again had filled her with cold and utter dread, a certain hopelessness she knew she wouldn’t be able to get back from. Either way she’d stuck around. And Alexa had stuck around her too.
And what once was difficult, and strange, became easy.
But now Mania looms in the distance. And they haven’t held gold in months.
Last night, losing their way to the tag titles, Charlotte can’t help but wonder when Alexa is going to realize Charlotte no longer brings forth the advantages she previously did.
Selfishly, she’s ready to do anything and everything to make Alexa stay.
Charlotte shifts her grip on the takeout boxes and pushes open the almost fully closed door with her foot. She almost barrels straight into Alexa, who’s stopped right inside the door, but manages to sidestep her just in time.
“Lex—?”
What greets them in the hotel room is chaos and destruction. The room is in total disarray, suitcases ripped open, clothes and gear shredded and strewn across all surfaces as if displaced from a sudden explosion. There is a scorch mark on the hotel rug, that they’re definitely going to be billed for. And, in the middle of it all: A child.
The child, a girl, can’t be any older than thirteen, maybe younger even. She is sitting on the destroyed rug, her eyes huge and wide, staring at them like she’s been caught doing something she shouldn’t be. She doesn’t move, neither does Charlotte or Alexa.
The door clicks shut behind them.
An odd familiarity tugs at Charlotte when she looks at the girl, but she can’t quite place from where. It’s possible she’s seen her before in the audience, but she can’t be sure with the large amount of new faces she sees every week, made even blurrier in her mind's eye by the adrenaline pumping through her body. What she does recognize, though, is the bundle of fabric clenched in the child’s hands. Unmistakable- because Charlotte has once held similar fabrics in her hands, had been the cause of the damage, and had taunted Alexa to tears with it. Years ago as it is now.
Takeout forgotten, the heat still burning but unfelt by her fingers, a bitter taste fills Charlotte's mouth. It’s the ghost of a feeling, of an action she’s not yet atoned for. The hauntings of something she hadn’t felt bad about then (how was she supposed to know, then, that they would become something like this?) but she feels bad about it now.
The child blinks at them, and in her small hands are the remains of Alexa’s most prized possession; the shredded remains of a doll; stuffing and fabric and love, all torn apart.
Though Charlotte itches to react, cold prickly anger stirring in her stomach, telling her to make sure no one ever does something like this towards Alexa again, Charlotte does her best to contain herself. She hasn’t gotten this far in the business by being brash (though she has had her moments). Setting the takeout boxes down on the side table, Charlotte takes a few small steps towards the child.
She opens her mouth, “H—” but for a moment she fumbles. For how often she interacts with kids on house shows, she doesn’t know how to handle them when she’s not on. She’s not built for it, the niceness, softness. Especially not now, when tension pulls at her muscles, and it is Alexa who’s been hurt, maybe not physically but… Charlotte casts her team partner a glance, her heart squeezes at the pale look on Alexa’s face.
The doll has been a constant presence since Alexa engineered her way into a tag team with Charlotte Flair. An unmentioned quirk of Alexa’s that Charlotte’s resolutely been ignoring, both wary of bringing up painful memories, and perhaps even afraid of getting certain answers. It’s a weakness. A point to target to gain an advantage. The easiest way to hurt Alexa, as Charlotte once had.
Is that what this is?
A targeted attack to make sure their team doesn't get back up from where they’ve fallen?
“Who told you to do this?” She asks at last, sounding very little of the usual persona she presents herself as. She flexes her fingers at her side, curls them into fists— and then immediately unfurls them when she realizes the message it sends. Has someone put her up to this? Jade maybe, to taunt them, as she has been doing lately, interrupting their entrances and shoving her title in their faces. Or maybe Nia and Lash, who know they’re coming for the tag titles again, always will, so long as Alexa still wants to team with her. Nia who’s always had a bone to pick with Alexa. But sending a child to do their biddings? “Why did— Was it Nia?”
But the child simply stares, not even at Charlotte, but past her. Her hands absentmindedly tug at the fabrics, and what’s already torn seems to tear even more.
Charlotte starts forward, suddenly wanting to salvage what remains of the doll out of those small hands. But Alexa takes hold of her arm. It’s a light grip, hand simply wrapped around Charlotte’s forearm, but it’s enough to make Charlotte freeze on the spot and cast a glance back at Alexa. She doesn’t know when it became so natural to heed to Alexa, and to follow her lead. Maybe she should be worried about that, the ease? But that’s a thought for later.
Alexa is still gripping her arm, but she isn’t looking at Charlotte.
Her voice is shaky. “Lilly?” She says, whispers almost, and tugs at Charlotte's arm, like Charlotte is meant to understand. “It’s—“
But Charlotte doesn’t understand - not at first. She’s measures behind, her mind spins: There’s a kid here, now. She’s holding the doll, Alexa’s doll. The doll is broken, very broken.
Alexa doesn’t give her the courtesy of catching up. She lets go of her hold on Charlotte, and steps over the remnants of their stuff, tiptoeing around most of the mess. It’s about then, when she looks over at Alexa and the kid on the floor in front of her that pieces finally start slotting into place.
She can see it. Now. The blue eyes, blonde hair dissolving into the faintest pink at the ends in a rough imitation of Alexa's hair. Just like the shreds of the doll in her hands.
But that’s… impossible.
(Once upon a time Charlotte thought teaming with someone else was impossible.)
Charlotte suddenly feels very out of place. Like she’s not supposed to be there. Wyatt Sicks’ magic- or whatever it is, whatever has brought forth this child, and practically exploded their hotel room, it’s not to do with her. So with Alexa crouching down in front of the child Charlotte finds herself slinking out of the hotel room and bending to the habit she’s been trying to train herself out of.
After a few hours of wandering aimlessly through the hotel lobby, Charlotte ends up back outside their hotel room, staring at the sad quality grain of the door: the very shut, and locked door. Whose key Charlotte no longer has in her pocket… She shouldn’t have just left without a word. But she had.
She heaves a sigh, hesitates for just a moment more, and then gingerly knocks.
The door swings open.
Charlotte doesn’t know what she’s expecting to come back to.
But there is Alexa, standing in front of her, unreadable. Taking in the room, and the damage over Alexa’s shoulder, she had been too distracted before to really notice the innate carnage of it all. But now she recognizes a few of her things- ripped apart (the vain part of her mourns).
After a moment of silence Alexa clears her throat. “Hey,” she says, and steps aside to allow Charlotte in. Makeup is wiped clear off of her face, and she’s changed into something more comfortable, a Disney pyjama Charlotte has seen many times before.
“Hi…” Charlotte says, mostly towards the floor.
Alexa opens her mouth, and then closes it.
Charlotte doesn’t know what to say. Either. Running didn’t help clear her head, the only thing she managed with that was putting distance between her and Alexa. And the fragile peace they kept earlier is nowhere to be found.
She can’t spot the girl anywhere. And she thinks, although briefly, that maybe she’s hallucinated this whole thing? Maybe she’s got a serious head injury? Maybe there hasn’t been-whatever that had been? But deep down she knows that’s only wishful thinking.
She gives another cursory glance around the room, there’s not many other places to be, to hide.
Perhaps reading Charlotte's thoughts, Alexa nods over to the bed furthest from the door. There beneath the hotel quilt is a silent unmoving heap, which Charlotte had missed, only tufts of blonde-pink hair sticking out from it. One could almost mistake her for Alexa.
“She’s asleep,” Alexa says, “I think… I don’t think she knows what’s happening. “
“That makes two of us,” Charlotte murmurs. And she can’t help but doubt. Of course there is doubt. She doesn’t mean to, but the strangeness and the magic is Alexa’s stuff, not hers. Never hers. How does a thing like this even happen? When does a doll ever grow bones and skin- Charlotte doesn’t really want to know that. “Are you sure she’s—?”
“I’m sure, Charlotte.” Alexa shakes her head. “It’s her.”
“Lexi—”
“No. Just trust me.”
The conviction in Alexa’s voice cuts through Charlotte’s protest. It doesn’t matter what she thinks anyways, somehow she always ends up following Alexa.
Alexa looks away, at the sleeping girl.
“The fiend always had tricks up his sleeves….” She begins, and there’s a far away look in her eyes as she talks. Like she’s not really there. Alexa has never spoken much about him, Charlotte knows it’s a sore subject. “I didn’t think he messed with that, with— Lilly has been mine since I was a kid. I didn’t think he had anything to do with it. But, I guess there’s still things I don’t know he did,” Alexa’s free hand scratches at her arm. “Why would it— he— he’s been gone for so long.”
They haven’t talked about it before, Alexa's possession, nor the man that twisted her into something strange and new. Charlotte remembers trying to get the old Alexa back, years ago, before they were even cordial. She remembers insulting Alexa’s black lipstick and calling her an imitation. Unoriginal.
Alexa continues. “You know, I would understand if this means you'd rather focus on singles gold.“
“What?” Charlotte is taken off guard by the sudden subject change. She takes Alexa’s hand on instinct. “No. Lexi, I know we’ve hit a bit of a slump,” that’s a major understatement, “but we’re still going after those tag titles, I——“ in no world would this mean Charlotte doesn’t want Alexa as her partner anymore.
But Alexa is not convinced. She shifts, and her gaze flicks to the door from where Charlotte’s just come. Charlotte sees it for what it is, but Alexa doesn’t bring it up.
“Charlotte. She’s my responsibility…”
“Then—“ Charlotte frowns, looks at the sleeping girl who’s trashed their hotel room, the doll turned human… It doesn’t matter the situation, she doesn’t think she could ever live without Alexa. “Then she’s mine too.”
Alexa gives her a skeptic look.
But Charlotte only doubles down. “I’m serious! We’re a team, you know? I know I’m not always the easiest partner, but I’m not bailing on you.” That’s one thing she can promise. And she means it, more than she’s ever meant something else in her life.
Sure, she’s failed previously. Has a bad history with friends. And an even worse one with best friends. Because that’s who she is, Alexa. The most important person in her life. Alexa, who wanted to join war games and had Charlotte walk away from her in the ring, in front of an audience of thousands. Who’d watched Charlotte flee to prance around New York with someone else. Who’d still referred to her with that title, best friend, a title that had gone unused for years before that, when Charlotte had acted like nothing of the sort.
But she acts like it now. Or at least she tries to. And her heart, her heart rests not beneath her ribs, but in the hands of five feet, blonde hair with pink tips, and a nasty right hand.
It’s supposed to scare her. She had a best friend like that once, and it ended in disaster. But Alexa isn’t Becky. She knows that now.
“Isn’t this what friends are for?” Charlotte asks. She tries to smile at Alexa and bumps her hip softly in an attempt to cheer her up, but doesn’t get much of a reaction. The naive part of her continues anyways. ”I’m always going to be by your side.”
Reassurance softens the crease between Alexa’s brows, but not enough to make it fully go away. Still, she murmurs out: “Thank you.” Like that is something to thank someone for, and not what being best friends means.
Then Alexa’s interrupted by a yawn. And Charlotte is hit by how late it is, and how exhausted she feels. The sky, beyond the half drawn curtains is black, and the hotel room is harshly bright.
Blinking out tears from her eyes, “We’re going to have to share,” Alexa mumbles. With a tilt of her head, her hair, out of its usual pigtail combo, falls to cup Alexa’s cheeks. Charlotte holds herself back from brushing it away. “The beds. There’s only two and–” Alexa gestures towards Lilly.
Right.
Right. Charlotte hums. The bed situation is a bit more complicated now, what with one occupied by the surprise child. But it’s fine. No big deal.
“Okay.”
“Really,” Alexa blinks at her.
“What?”
“You’re really not going to complain about that?”
Charlotte gives her an unimpressed look. “I’m newly reformed,” she says.
But Alexa’s right, if this were half a year ago, Charlotte would be kicking up a storm at even the notion of having to share her bed. She’s come a long way from who she was back then.
“I’ll take it.”
So they share.
And the girl sleeping in the bed opposite theirs shifts uneasily in her sleep.