Regrets of Childhood - Part One

["The Fabulous One" Dan Fierce]

Regrets of Childhood - Part One 

Dan walked into the foster home that Jerry lived in. The house was teeming with the sad and morbidly dressed friends and family of the parents. Dan gave his condolences to Barbara, the matriarch of the household, followed by Bill, the father. Dan felt a chill of cold when he shook the father's hand, but just passed it off as just a goose on his grave. He'd gotten the same feeling when once he won the belt and it sunk in that Grimm was going to be his first title defense, so he wrote it off as nerves and stress. Nothing more. It was the same feeling he got when he found out he was facing Whitey Ford at Trauma 205. He knew he had a target on his back, and none of them were out to play William Tell.



His attention quickly turned to locating Jade. She lived here as well, and despite Jerry's schoolboy crush on his foster "sister," she treated him as her own sibling, for good or bad. His eyes scanned the brightly wallpapered Victorian home, resting occasionally on the random photograph of the foster parents and the many kids they helped throughout the years.



Dan recalled his own foster-turned-adoptive father telling him about the Wilkerson's, never saying anything cross about them. He told them that they had never actually adopted any of the kids, but they never once turned one away, regardless of history or behavior. Dan had always felt a slight swell of happiness whenever he'd ran into one of their charges. He knew they would be well looked after.



He asked one of the younger kids if they knew where to find Jade, but they all seemed too busy avoiding adults like the plague in the throes of a vigorous game of hide-and-seek for fear their hiding spot might be compromised. One girl finally whispered that she might be on the roof. Without knowing what she meant, Dan's heart skipped a beat as he stormed up the stairs.



He found her room, the one with the lovely poster threatening bodily harm to any who dare enter, and knocked on the door. "Jade?" He waited for what seemed like at least a good minute for a reply that never came. He rapped again. "Jade, honey? May I come in?" Still no answer.



Since he was neither a resident nor a close friend of the parents, it didn't feel right just barging in, no matter how jittery his pulse was over it. He took a few deep breaths and pondered the situation, deciding that a lap around the house might be in order.



He passed Jerry's room on the second floor, the door still sporting the caution tape that could easily have been a normal decoration for a pre-teen boy's portal, had the circumstances been different. His heart sank, the waterworks edging closer to the breaking point.



The moonlight was of little use, only appearing between cloud bursts like a burlesque dancer teasing an appreciative audience. The steep inclines on most of the house's peaks only fed Dan's dread as he encircled the property. Finally, he saw it; a small landing built outside the third story window. There Jade sat, her arms around her knees, staring into the part time lunar appearances.



She wore her eyeliner and mascara heavy enough to give most gay men pause, but the Wilkerson's always just let her do as she wanted to express herself, as had Dan. Tonight, the coverage silently rained down her cheeks in charcoal colored torrents.



"Jade? Sweetie?"



Her gaze shifted slowly, almost agitated, as if put off by the intrusion to her pity storm were unwelcome. When she locked eyes with Dan, her demeanor changed. The dam burst, first with a quiver of her bottom lip that was visible even from 20 feet down. It was all Dan could do to lose it and join her. Still, he did his best to remain strong for her sake.



"Oh, honey," he soothed. "Can I come up there and give you a hug? You look like you could use one."



She sobbed and nodded vehemently. Dan spun on his heel and rushed back into the house, nearly tripping over a morose kid with dark, bowl-cut hair of about the same age as Jerry.



"Are..." stammered the unsure child. "Are you Mr. Fierce?"



Dan felt hurried, but the look on the boy's face triggered his training as a sensei. He always knew when a kid wanted to say something, but couldn't find the courage to do so. He crouched a bit to bring himself eye level. "I am." Dan grabbed the kid by the shoulders softly, reassuringly, cupping the tear stained chin to look him dead in the eyes. "Who are you, sweetie?"



"Bi... Billy," answered the child nervously.



"I'm not going to hurt you, kiddo."



"I know." He shuffled his feet slightly, perhaps in an attempt to calm himself, or steel himself for what was to come next. He held out a large hand, balled into a fist. Instinctively, Dan held out a flat palm under the boy's oversized mitt. A small chain attached to a Picachu dropped into his hand with a single, small key on it. "Jerry told me to give this to you. He wants you to end it. No matter what."



The boy began crying uncontrollably, but that didn't stop him from shrugging Dan's grasp and running off into the night. Dan looked at the bauble and it's attachments with silent wonder. He pondered the key. It simply stated "Sentry" on it. Dan had one almost like it on his own key chain. He knew it went to a locked box of some kind.



His mind snapped back to the reality of his situation. "Jade," he muttered aloud. He knew she might know what it belongs to. He made up for his distraction by taking the stairs in pairs, nearly mis-timing it a few times and greeting the hardwood steps with his face. He knocked as a courtesy on Jade's door before opening it to obtain permission. He didn't need to. Jade nearly swept him to the ground with a powerful hug, her damp face burying itself into his chest as hard as she could.



Dan decided now wasn't the time for an inquisition. Right now, this girl needed a friend, and maybe an ear. He stuffed the key into his pocket without another word, hugging Jade as tight as she hugged him. Finally, his own dam burst and they wept together.

"This is going to be shorter than my usual diatribe on my opponents. Nothing personal, Whitey. I just don't know you well enough to cast shade at you. Of course, in any other federation I'd probably get bet against just because I didn't verbally tear you to shreds.



"Then again, this isn't just some other fed, it's Pure Class Wrestling, and you're looking at the newly crowned queen of the mountain." Dan paused as if letting that notion sink in a bit. "It's surreal to me still. I've finally, after so many years, earned the pinnacle prize.





"I'm not ignoring you or trying to diminish your worth, Whitey. You have a list of accolades in this place alone that makes my new achievement seem paltry. You were one of the longest reigning Intercontinental champs. You even held this very title. SO I'm not going to build myself up to be a badass, place myself up on a pedestal. Pride comes before a fall.



"I'm going to do what I can to keep myself humble and hold this shiny little bitch as long as my pink little heart desires. I know I can't hold out if I let my head get too big." He stops again, smiling devilishly. "Get your mind out of the gutter."



"I'm going up against the self-proclaimed 'Asshole,' which I'm sure means you voted for Trump. You just look the part. Trashy, backwards-thinking, self-important... Stop me if I'm wrong on any of this, but I know you won't. You wear those titles like a scout wears badges. The difference is you can back that shit up.



"That's what is going to make this whole thing on Trauma 205 so much fun. You get to try and topple the newly crowned champ and I get to take a lot of frustration out on the poster child for everything I hate about the world.



"In a way, I have to agree with Ace Dagger from the Pulse in his assessment. I have more to lose by not serving you a San Francisco sized beatdown between the ropes. You have nothing to lose. You win, I lose momentum. I win, you lost to the champ after a long absence. Ring Rust. No biggie.



"The problem is, I can see the thirst in your eyes. You don't have the patience to climb ladders or wait turns. You, just like Grimm, want what I have. You were likely promised a shot by someone just as slimy as the incoming President himself. If I make it that far, I welcome it. Hell, the fans have been clamoring for us to truly lock horns ever since you announced your return. This match is the palate cleanser that will lead to my main course at Mass Destruction against a man that has held this title more times than you. He's the threat. You're the footnote. At least for now. SO let's do this, sweetie. Let's tangle it up and get sweaty."



Dan halts his monologue, his face contorting in disgust.



"Just do a bitch a favor. Wash that ass first. No one likes a chili dog. Toodles."