If the FWA had turned out differently...

[Cryonix]

This is a story I wrote...for FWA fans. Just a look at how...if things went a different way...how lives would have turned out differently....


”I do not love the bright sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend.”

-J.R.R. Tolkien

You could almost frame the perfection. A light snow falls on the city of Toronto, Ontario; it’s simple and elegant purity raining down like whispered blessings amidst the scene. The house that seems to be the center of the scene is almost something out of a Thomas Kinkade painting. The snow picks up a bit now, speckling the gem colored flowers in a dazzling tapestry of white. Curls of sweet hickory smoke waft from the chimney, a piano can be heard inside playing the tunes ‘White Christmas’ and ‘Sleigh Ride’, complete with warm, joyful singing voices in accompaniment and the smells of turkey, ham, potatoes and cranberries seduce the taste buds into watering. Truly…it must be Christmas. The scene transitions to inside the house and the first thing we notice is the wonderfully large Christmas tree with mountains of presents underneath it. The house is full of people and the atmosphere is celebratory. Working their way through the crowd with smiles and drinks and appetizers is a beautiful, green eyed, fire red haired woman. She seems older than she looks, but she is something to look at. She is wearing a very sleek little black dress with matching heels. She moves around the room as a flame amidst kindling. She seems to control the room with her eyes…her smile. It’s obvious that this is her house…and she is a hell of a hostess. As she hands out the last of the sparkling wine to two of her guests, she notices her better half, her soul mate…her wife.

She leaves the kitchen with a smile on her face, but it is the entire room that seems to light up by her appearance. Her skin takes is the color of caramel, and she does look sweet enough to devour. She has on a free flowing red dress and her head is adorned with a diamond tiara. The wedding ring on her finger sparkles in the firelight as she makes her way over to the redhead. The two share a quick kiss, before the caramel vixen speaks to the red headed goddess…

“I didn’t realize there were so many guests here, Jen. I wish you would have told me. I wouldn’t have spent so much time in the kitchen.”

Jenny gives her a sidelong glance and a smirk.

“Oh really? Are you sure you weren’t having a great time in the kitchen with Shawn, Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle bits her lip coyly.

“Well…the man does know how to use a turkey baster…”

“Gabby,” Jenny responds in feigned shock.

“What? I didn’t say anything where you were in the kitchen earlier, hon. Besides…once this party is over, you and I have our holiday tradition to attend to…and I can tell you, I’m so looking forward to that hot tub.”

“Mmm…so am I, babe. So we best get this show on the road. Hey, have you seen Micah and Carmella?”

“Actually, Carmella went out with some friends, remember? Last minute Christmas shopping. She should be home any minute. As far as Micah…I think he’s still in his room.”

As soon as she says that, the front door opens and walking in is a teenage girl, hands and arms full of shopping bags. Her long brown hair and mocha colored eyes compliment her also caramel colored skin…a blessing from her mother. She sets down the bags and after taking off her coat and hat, she gives both Jenny and Gabrielle big hugs.

“Merry Christmas, mom. Merry Christmas, Jenny.”

Gabrielle is happy to see her daughter. “Same to you, Carmella. Listen, Jenny and I need to get back to the guests, so you run in the kitchen and let your father know you’re back home safe…then, if you could…please get Micah to come downstairs.”

“Oh my God! Micah is here? When did he get home?”

“Only about a week ago, Carmella,” Jenny answers. “You were still on your ski trip.”

“Oh, cool. I’ve missed him so much. Did he mention how…it went with…?”

Jenny snaps around, still smiling…but with a decided edge in her voice. “He’s decided not to talk about his father…and we shouldn’t encourage him…okay, hon?”

Carmella isn’t shocked by this…but taken aback a bit. Her mother Gabrielle had always mentioned that the subject of Micah’s father, Stuart, was a very touchy subject for both Jenny and her older brother. She always wanted to ask, but then again she always wanted to know about her brother. Even though she had grown up with him around, he had always been a mysterious entity. He never seemed to get too high or too low. He spoke with an even keel, he was intelligent and insightful and he wasn’t at all an eyesore to look at either…

…especially those eyes.

She remembered joking with him before he left on his trip to go train for wrestling that his eyes were made out of diamonds, because of how they seem to shimmer in light. That was almost eight months ago. Carmella never understood the power Micah seemed to have over people. It was almost supernatural the way he could invoke emotions with just a knowing nod or glance. Her mother and her wife taught Carmella how to manipulate men. She made no secret of it and neither was she shameful of it, but Micah was…would the word be immune or indifferent to her. Either way, the prospect of a male who didn’t look at her the way most males do…intrigued and excited her. She bit her bottom lip with a bit of a smile as she walked out of the kitchen after helping her dad, Shawn Cortez, set the table in the dining room with wonderful smelling food. She made her way up the staircase and past the master bedroom and past her room, to the last bedroom in the hallway. The door was closed.

Inside the room, the atmosphere is completely different than outside. A peaceful, serene calm exists but it seems to be tempered with an ever growing intensity, a primal rage barley kept in check by blessed reason. Candles are lit all around the room, but save for that, light seemingly does not belong here. A shadow seems to circle the room, in a slow deliberate manner. Its right arm extended, hand curled into a ‘U’ shape. Its left hand is underneath the right, the hand protecting the point of the right elbow. The shadow’s breath can be heard loudly as he breaths in through the nose, and out through the mouth in deep, elongated oxygenation. As the shadow passes one of the candles, it seems to materialize into the form of Micah St. Clair, his shimmering eyes focused on the darkness around him. He seems to be in deep contemplation as he continues to engage in the practice of Baguazhang. The style is an internal one, something that perfectly marries the calmness of meditation with the physical prowess of Martial Arts. It’s just what he needs to clear his head, after the last eight months of wrestling training. His walking pace is a steady one as he circles the room in a precise manner. His mind plays back all that transpired over the time he was away. He wishes he could stay in quiet contemplation, but as are the case with most memories…they illicit personal commentary.

’It wasn’t all bad,’ he says to himself as he swings his hands in a elaborate martial maneuver, blocking an imaginary punch and coiling his body into the same position, but now walking the other direction. ’I mean, sure. I slept on a cot and worked ten hours a day to try to perfect a craft that few outside the business see as that, but I was able to grow in my self confidence, get into better shape, face the man I’d been avoiding for years and discovered a brother in arms I never knew I had. It was such a shock to see Colin again after all those years. It was nice to know that I didn’t have to go through all of that hell alone. Seven months of video watching, bump taking, chain wrestling, turnbuckle jumps…sores, bruises, broken bones and hurt feelings…

…and a worthless father who said neither of us was worth a damn thing.

He wants to be mad at the thought of his father, but the thought of Colin calms him. He can’t help but smile as his mind’s eye lingers on Colin, but he quickly dismisses that thought and now concentrates in earnest. His walking pace seems to increase now. He circles his hands again into an overhead back fist attack, then into a horse stance solar plexus punch than he launches himself into a jumping sidekick landing in that same Bagua position. As he continues his walk, his mind wanders to that confrontation he and his father had. He was mad at himself for that. He shouldn’t have let him, of all people, make him that angry. He should have known better. It was childish and showed his father that he still had some sort of manipulative pull over him. Micah remembered that during his childhood, Ashley O’Ryan once called Stu St. Clair the ‘most vile son of a bitch I know’. He was beginning to agree with him.

’I’ve heard the rumors…what those people said about my father. Merciless, they said. A living, breathing monster. A serial killer bound only by the prison of semi rational thought. Is…could that be where I’m headed? The son of a serial killer and a red headed, manipulative ‘goddess of flame and shadow’? If I am headed there…will I like what I become? What exactly…will I become? Is it possible to escape it? Can I be my own person and not live in his shadow?’

“M…Micah? May I come in?”

The voice of his sister woke him from his meditation and he couldn’t help but smile. She was one of the many, many reasons he was glad to be home. He took one more deep breath and started to cool down from his workout.

“Could that be my sweet sister,” Micah asked in a somewhat playful tone.

Carmella’s smile shone brightly. Same old Micah. “Maybe. You’ll find out if you open the door.”

His smile grew bigger. One of the many joys he has in life is the playful banter between him and his sister. Their relationship was an odd one. They were brother and sister in name only, not related by blood, but by marriage. So hugging and kissing to those two were just a little shall we say…different than other siblings. Jenny and Gabrielle didn’t mind it. Who better than to guide their beloved children into their adulthood, than each other? It wasn’t something they talked about or even mentioned but unspoken words can be just as effective as verbal. They can convey feelings sometimes even better between people, like brother and sister, lover to lover…

…or even father to son.

Micah’s thoughts drift back to his father just a bit. He is consumed by the thought…perhaps, the fear of becoming that which he and his mother despises. He starts to dwell on it. He sighs deeply, trying to remember the meditation that calmed his mind, but nothing seems to be working. He pounds his fist against the door, hoping he could just make it go away.

“Micah…i…is everything alright?”

Her voice snapped him back to the here and now. He grabs a black towel, its edges frayed just a bit from overuse, and he drapes it over his bare shoulders.

“Everything is fine, ‘mella. I’m coming out now.”

As he starts to dry the sweat from his face and chest, he opens the door. Carmella stands there, gorgeous as always. Black heeled boot and skinny jeans that accent her God given curves and a hot pink halter top underneath a sheen grey, long sleeve belly sweater. As he sees her…she sees him, wearing nothing more than black martial arts pants and a black towel over his head. He’s grown again, Carmella can tell. He’s easily over six feet tall now. The travel and the hard life have changed parts of him, but not all…the eyes remain the same.

Those quiet, shimmering, visually arresting, diamond eyes.

It’s because of those that she can’t help herself. She wants to give herself to him fully, but a kiss will do. The two embrace sensually, their lips meeting quickly. After the kiss breaks, he smiles and she blushes. She bites her lip again and brushes some of her hair out of her face.

“I’ve missed you, Micah.”

“It’s good to see you too, Carmella. Though, I’d figure you’d have a boyfriend by now. God, look at you. The boys must be starting wars over you.”

“I have my fans, I’ll put it that way. It’s just they are all so booooring. They are not like…well…”

Micah doesn’t let her finish the sentence. “Be that as it may, it’s still good to see you again. What’s going on? Mom said she wouldn’t bother me until dinner was ready.”

“That’s why I’m here. Dad just pulled the turkey from the oven and the table is set. All of the guests are making their way to the dining room. I got you a seat, right next to me.”

“You’re sweet, Carmella. Let me shower and change and I’ll be down in a second, alright?”

“Alright. Do you plan on saying grace this year?”

Micah softly traces the outline of her face with his finger. “Of course, if mom wants me to. I have much to be grateful for.”

She blushes as he touches her, but slowly backs away, not breaking eye contact. He smiles as she walks back downstairs. The two share one more quick…yet, not so quick…glance, before leaving each other’s sight.

~Twenty Minutes Later…~

The dining room of this warm and inviting home is in no means lacking of seats or company. The long, rectangular table is accented with crystal glasses, beautiful china wear and a bounty of sumptuous food. The low din of conversation quickly comes to a halt when Jenny stands and softly clinks her wine glass with her manicured fingers. As it continues to snow outside, Gabrielle finishes serving the table a nice warm mulled wine. As she sits down in the seat next to her wife, Jenny speaks to the gathered.

Jenny: We would like to thank you all for coming to our happy home this year for Christmas. It’s the first time we’ve really hosted friends as well as family for the holidays. We want to thank Shawn Cortez for cooking this bountiful meal. I just want you all to know that you are always welcome here in our house. Gabrielle and I love having company, and we can think of no better people to spend special time with. Please eat, drink, converse and enjoy yourself at our family’s table. Merry Christmas everyone.

There is a light, yet earnest round of applause as Jenny sits back in her seat and she defers the floor to her pride and joy, her son Micah. He’s now wearing a white button down shirt and black slacks. He holds the knife sharpener and the butchers knife and smiles at the rest of the table. Before he carves the turkey, he gives tribute.

Micah: May the Lord bless this table…and all that sit at it. May the Lord bless this food and all who consume it. Amen.

The rest of the table lifts their glasses and repeat the ‘Amen’. Micah begins to carve the turkey and ham and dinner is served. The fellowship is wonderful. Wine flows, laughter is prevalent and the food is gourmet quality. Micah sits back and takes in the heartwarming scene. It is something he does naturally, ever since he was a kid. He realizes that he’s happy, truly happy for the first time, in quite a long time. He feels like he’s finally at home. He enjoys the plate in front of him, the warm mulled wine, the conversations with family friends, telling stories about his travels to his sister. He feels comfortable, secure, loved and accepted….

…yet, he can’t help this bile creeping up the back of his throat. Something is wrong. He knows it is.

The praises of his mother, the questions of family friends, the winks and smirks of his sister can’t do anything to shake him of the feeling that this perfect scene is somehow about to be tainted…ruined. As the festivities continue, a muffled scream can be heard from outside. No one except a few guests hear it at first, but really pay it no mind however Micah knows that voice.

“No,” he whispers to himself. “It can’t be.”

The muffled scream gets a little louder. “GET OUT HERE!”

Now more people start to take notice. Gabrielle starts to whisper to Jenny, who now is looking and straining to hear. Then it happens.

*CRASH!*

The front window is smashed by a whiskey bottle. The drunken voice that’s been yelling from the outside can be heard loud and clear now.

“JENNY! YOU RED HEADED WHORE! GET OUT HERE NOW!”

All eyes turn to Jenny and her embarrassment is plain. Gabrielle holds her hand. “I’ll call the cops.”

Micah stands. “No, Gabby. I’ll take care of it.”

Jenny starts to protest, but Micah cuts her off. “Mom, it’s all right. You attend to your guests…I’ll attend to the trash.” He knew who it was. The son of a bitch, how dare he? Micah stands and gives Carmella a nod. She looks worried.

“S…should I come with you?”

“No. You stay here. The guests need something beautiful to look at with dinner.”

She gives a worried smile as Micah leaves the table and puts on his coat and walks outside. The yelling doesn’t stop and it’s easy for him to find the source…and it’s exactly as he feared.

His father, Stu St. Clair was here, drunk and angry at the world.

Calling the man a shell of his former self was being nice. He was a disgusting wreck of a human being, even more so than he was when Micah and Colin were training with him. He has on dirty jeans and a ripped sweatshirt underneath a long, body length leather duster. His hair was long and his beard was long as well. The odor of whiskey and vodka were incredibly prevalent. When he sees Micah walk out, he lets out a loud, mocking laugh.

“So the bitch won’t come out herself…so she sends the whelp.”

“My mother is hosting Christmas. She has guests. You are not welcome here. Leave now.”

“I’m not here to talk to you, damn it. Send her out…now!”

Micah narrows his eyes. “Not going to happen. You’re drunk. Go crawl back into whatever hole you came from and leave us alone.”

“You…talk to me…that way? I took the time to train you and your bastard friend of a twelve step reject! You OWE ME not only for your career…but for your life, you ungrateful fucking worm!”

“Am I really supposed to feel insulted by a shell of a man that can’t even satisfy the woman he supposedly loves? You may be my father…but you are far from my equal. Now, you’ve been warned twice. Leave now or I’m calling the cops.”

“Either you take me in there to see that mother of yours or…”

Stu reaches into his pocket and he pulls out a knife. Micah is unfazed, at least from what Stu can see.

“Stu…you take one step towards this house with that knife, and I will fulfill the promise I made to you in Kelowna. I swear it.”

Stu smirks and charges Micah with the knife blade pointed at him. Micah intercepts Stu’s hand and using the Martial Arts he knows, wrenches the knife away from him. The scuffle then ensues. Punches are thrown, as well as kicks and elbows. Stu gets the upper hand and starts to reign down punches on his only son. Finally after about the fifth punch, Micah redirects the punch and slams Stu’s head in the snow. He grabs Stu’s hair and start slamming his head over and over again, yelling “You son of a bitch,” at the top of his lungs. After about a minute of this, Stu connects with a rabbit punch, doubling Micah over. He scrambles and retrieves the knife. He lunges forward again…

…and then everything seemed to move in slow motion.

He slashed Micah’s chest, but not deeply. Micah used the momentum to grab Stu’s wrist and sweep him to the ground. Stu held on to the knife, but the blade was now pointed at his throat and Micah controlled his hand. Stu spits in his son’s face. Micah screams in rage and head butts Stu. The scream alerts the other guests and they come running outside, Jenny and Carmella first. As they arrive, they catch the tense scene. Jenny wants to run to her son, but Gabrielle and Shawn keep her back, as well as another friend of the family, Raquel Wednesday.

“MICAH! MY GOD, ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”

“Mom…It’s alright. I got this. Go back inside.”

Stu starts to scream again. “JENNY! DAMN YOU! YOU LYING BITCH…”

Micah head butts him again. “SHUT UP!” He looks back to the guests. “Shawn, Gabby get everyone back inside. Carmella, call the cops. I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

Shawn nods and starts to get everyone inside…but Jenny refuses to go. Gabrielle takes her hand.

“No, Gabby, I’m staying.”

“Jen, come on. Don’t you think he wants this? He wants to see you suffer.”

“But…my son…Micah…”

“Can take care of himself, obviously. Come on babe…come on.”

Jenny finally nods and starts to calm down. “Stu…if you hurt my son…”

Jenny and Gabby finally go back inside. Micah still has control of Stu’s hand and the knife blade. Stu sneers at his son again and spits at him one more time, causing Micah to move again, loosening his grip just enough for Stu to reverse the hold. The blade is now a hair from Micah’s left eye.

“Still just a snot nosed piece of shit. I’ll be doing the world a favor getting rid of you.”

Stu rears back and strikes the blade down, but at the last instant…Micah grabs his hand and twists his wrist quickly…

…and the knife plunges deeply into Stu’s own throat.

The shock was plain on both of their faces. The blood spurts out of Stu’s neck like a broken damn. Micah sits back, his father’s blood covering his face and hands. The blood around Stu pools and starts to corrupt the pure white snow around him…almost an ironic, fitting end for someone who has corrupted things his entire life. The emotions are too much now. He’s not sure if it’s grief, elation, remorse or freedom…but Micah lets out a scream.

That scream’s reverberation echoes in Micah’s ears as he is being attended to by the paramedics. Most of the guests are being questioned by police but Carmella is right by Micah’s side. He shakes slightly, though he’s not sure it’s from the cold. He looks to one of the paramedics and asks in a shaky voice, “My…my father…How is he?”

The paramedic sighs deeply. “Well, they have him set on life support in the ambulance, but…it doesn’t look good.”

“I…I see. May I go see him?”

“You better hurry. They are going to drive off any second now.”

Micah stands quickly and runs to the ambulance. He convinces the emergency responders there to give him just thirty seconds alone with his father. They leave and Stu’s eyes slowly open. There is still a fire there…but it is slowly extinguishing. He reaches out his hand…his intention to choke Micah…

…who smiles as he looks down at the body of his father. He leans in very low, so only Stu can hear him whisper…

“And so, the once powerful snake was brought low not by his enemy, but his son. Good night, hollow soul…and may flights of devils torture thee to thy rest.”

He steps back as the ambulance drives off. Carmella hugs his arm and looks up at him.

“I know that he was a…I know how you felt about him, but still you must be devastated.”

Micah looks at Carmella and smiles, the blood still on his face crafting a sinister mask.

“Actually, my sweet sister…this is probably the best Christmas…I’ve ever had.”

One year later…

Christmas now is much different than it was. Instead of a grand tree, it’s a small little plastic thing with fake lights. Instead of a mountain of presents, it’s a couple of cards and wads of cash. Instead of a beautiful, picturesque home, it’s a hotel suite. Instead of sparkling wine and fresh baked turkey, it’s Vanilla Coke, green tea and Chinese takeout. Micah, now a year older and wiser, is sitting on the couch of the Hotel Arista suite, watching Alexis, his girlfriend and Colin, his brother in arms arguing about Colin’s smoking. After a celebratory toast to the spirit of Christmas, and a very intriguing conversation about Alexis and Alex Edward’s living…situation, Micah goes and sits on the wide window sill, looking out over the city. His tea is steaming up the windows a bit. Colin and Alexis continue to argue about Colin’s smoking, when Micah lets out a soft chuckle.

Colin looks over, cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “What’s so funny?”

Micah shakes his head. “It’s nothing. It’s just an odd feeling not being at home during Christmas.”

Alexis, still apologetic after that awkward conversation, comes over and hugs Micah from behind. “Is everything alright? You’ve been kind of down ever since we got here this morning.”

“I was just thinking about last year. That’s all.”

Alexis sharply inhales. “Oh…right. I’m sorry for bringing that up.”

Micah turns and looks at her, his eyes shining again. “You don’t even know what happened, hon. It’s alright.”

Colin walks over, now with a bottle of Coke of his own. “Yeah, you never did tell us what happened, Micah. I know it was around the same time your dad committed suicide.”

“Actually Colin,” He started to say, but the words just wouldn’t come out. Did he really want to tell his new family what happened? He couldn’t’ even tell his mother or his sister. “It was the same day.”

The mood loses a bit more festivity.

“Look guys, its Christmas. I don’t want to bring you down, alright. You all had a rough Christmas last year, too.”

Colin shakes his head. “Micah, we’re family now. I’m sure I speak for Alexis when I say that you can tell us anything.”

Alexis nods, taking a sip of her Vanilla Coke.

Micah looks at the two of them and smiles. “Anything?”…

[Dr Nash]

only stu to ruin x-mas. how grinch like of him lol. having a feeling someone has 'been born in blood'. nice read

[Maxxy the Franchise]

If you posted this one... Can I post what happened between Bapho and Jenny?

Since apparently we're completely doing away with kayfabe lol

Fucking love this promo... one of my all time favorites from you

[iMatt]

This is AWESOME thanks so much for making this, this is awesome what a unique and creative idea. It was really funny and sexy at parts and gave insight into the characters and just really put up an interesting concept of what their world had been like. Superb work Chris.

[DramaShark]

This was a damn good read from start to finish.