:: Jason Helms :: He's No Superman ::

“It’s All About The Name”

The irony isn’t lost on me, believe me when I say that... I mean, I’ve been saying that for more than a year now, haven’t I? I’ve been telling people to shut the fuck up and pay attention solely because of the name I was given at birth, the family I was born into... and the most annoying thing is that that fuck Blake was right when he brought that up all those weeks ago and threw that back in my face. I’m part of the Helms dynasty. I was actually born into it, I should have a claim stronger than... well, you know where I’m going with that. And believe me, I don’t want to think that way, I don’t actually hold that opinion; marriage and adoption don’t make someone any less of a part of a family whatsoever, but given I was born a Helms, you’d think I’d have every right to remind people of that nugget of wisdom. Sad fact is, lately? Part of me wonders if I have the right to say it anymore...

It’s funny. I’m kind of in limbo right now in some sort of fucked up way; I think it’s fair to say that I’m a world away from the guy I was when I first came to Supreme Championship Wrestling... I guess you can blame Amy for that in a way, but at the same time, it’s those wonderful assholes at home too. I guess I went from the ultimate jackass, to the court jester or fool... and it’s not like I’m even complaining about that, given that nothing’s really changed for me in the grand scheme of things, you know? But that doesn’t mean I’m anything like my brother once was... even if neither of us asked for the fans to cheer us every week, I’m nothing like him, the guy fueled by self-righteous fury and a passion to do the right thing at every turn. I’m not a bad person... but I’m not a swell guy either. I guess you’d say I’m in a moral no man’s land more or less... which is fucking fitting, because while I’m not my brother, I’m not his wife or kid either! Regan may think the world owes her something and Aaron may be breathing in the noxious fumes from the Past Present Future kool-aid, but each to their own, you know? And if Aaron wants to sell his soul down the river in order to latch onto the PPF teat then that’s up to him; he’s a big boy and can make his own choices... but like I said, that kind of puts me in limbo right now, because on the one hand you’ve got Regan being the world’s biggest cunt, trying to paralyze our boss and threatening to kill babies, and on the other end there’s Saint David the swellest guy to ever walk the earth. Seriously, it wouldn’t surprise me if the fucker could turn water into wine and cure leprosy on the weekend with a mere touch!

Then there’s me.

I’m here just living my life, the same as I’ve done since I came to SCW in order to get my slice of the pie after missing out on so many years of my career for one reason or another. And the fucking irony is that I’m not the one who’s changed one iota really. I haven’t gone from one extreme to another, I haven’t switched personalities like a rip off from split with a bitch switch. I don’t have two faces that swivel around on a weekly basis. I’m just me! I’m a cunt... a lovable cunt maybe, but a cunt none the less. And yet suddenly I’m in the wrong because my life choices don’t fall exactly in line with what Regan Street thinks is right? Seriously, she need to step the fuck back and take a seat if she thinks I’m gonna let her pull a Trinity Street and become the patriarch of the Helms family, because she doesn’t even have the common decency to use the fucking name professionally! Family is so important, the Helms family is her precious... but when she steps out through those curtains, it’s Regan Street, not Helms. Talk about irony. Even the kid uses the Helms name, and he was adopted... then again, Aaron Jacobs doesn’t have the same star power as AJ Helms, does it? So I guess that explains that one.

Thing is... just saying that makes me think about what Blake Mason said to me on twitter last month. I keep telling people It’s All About The Name, that the Helms name is why people should give me the respect I think I deserve... but that fuck pointed out that I keep doing things to hurt my family. I’ve brought Dom’s personal life up twice now to score cheap points over Bree, I’ve told Aaron to watch his tongue because he said what was on his mind, the exact thing I was kind of trying to teach him to do in the first place. Even by sleeping with Amy, I’ve apparently wronged my fucking family by ‘sleeping with a known enemy’... and as fucking hilarious as I found the entire argument at time, the reason it still grates on me now is that in a way, I knew he had a fucking point. It pains me to say that, given how much I fucking hate the guy, regardless of how hard he’s trying to be a better person now. But his words did have a point, at least enough of one to make me half wonder if he was right... and not just my own family; look at the drama it caused in Amy and Wyatt’s life too. Wyatt ended up turning his back on Bree because of how she reacted, their own kids were dragged into things much sooner than they’d have liked because of Bree finding out and Jaina may have come around to the idea eventually but she didn’t like it at first. And Kara... I mean fuck, I know she was already off her rocker somewhat before, but she actually left the country because of us? That’s the problem with letting the opinions of others sway your own judgement I guess, you start to question everything... and despite being as close to one hundred percent sure that we weren’t doing anything wrong as was possible, it doesn’t stop doubts from sneaking in, you know? And when doubt does get hold of you, it can be a fucking bitch to shift them.

Thing is... I wouldn’t be me if I did bow down to second guessing, would I? And while Aaron may have pulled a complete one eighty and turned into a bratty little kid, the fact that he was willing to help us in any way he could before he let Regan’s bullshit get into his head, the fact that Dave was willing to try and protect me and Amy any way he could? If that doesn’t speak volumes about the whole thing, I dunno what would. Then again, given how much my life has changed in the last year, I’m not sure I’m really sure about anything anymore...

Amy & Wyatt's House
Harvey, Louisiana
June 8th, 2018

I’ve often heard parents talk about how awful it is seeing their children in pain and feel powerless to do anything about it. Maybe it’s something that I haven’t really thought about over the years, because I don’t have kids. I’m not sure I even want them really, though it’s not something that Nia and me have ever really talked about either, so maybe it’s something that’s on the table for later, I dunno. The thing is, the same applies to watching anyone you care about go through pain, because you’re just as powerless to do anything about it, it’s just that they’re ‘old enough’ to deal with it themselves. It doesn’t make it any easier to watch, you know? The entire fallout of Amy’s injury at Taking Hold of the Flame was a horrible whirlwind of emotion for all of us; not just Amy, though it goes without saying that she had the hardest time of it given it was actually happening to her while the rest of us just had to deal with watching on from the outside so to speak... but that’s what got me thinking about what they say about how powerless you feel as a parent watching your child go through something that leaves them sick or in pain. You’d do anything to be able to take the pain away, to take it on yourself just to remove their suffering... and that’s exactly how I felt, watching Amy go through the pain she did at Taking Hold of the Flame and afterward. We knew it was serious before they took her to the hospital; I still dunno how I managed to go out there and compete in the battle royal, other than one hundred percent being fueled by the notion of revenge on that little cuntrag Bree for doing that to Amy... she claims it was an accident but I don’t buy that for a fucking second. Either way, I did exactly what I said I was going to when I fucked Bree’s knight up and dumped her out of the Flame, stopping her from getting another shot at the World Title. Little comfort given how badly hurt Amy turned out to be but it was something at least.

Like I said though, it didn’t take a genius to know that something serious had happened and it came as no shock that the trainers sent her straight to the hospital instead of trying to do anything at the arena. The impact with the ring post or the steps, whichever one it was that actually did the damage, had re-fractured her patella, aggravating an old injury that Amy had from years ago... one that Bree knew all about when she went after the knee with that modified figure-four. She actually bust the knee cap into pieces and ripped the tendons from the bone! How the fuck could she claim she didn’t know what she was doing without bursting into flame on the spot I’ll never know... don’t Catholics view lying as some sort of serious sin against God? Where’s her fiery death, huh?! Then again, if there really was a big guy up there judging everyone, she’d have died a long time ago anyway, but most of us would have joined her too, so maybe I shouldn’t wish too hard for that one. The doctors in St. Louis pretty much said what I was already expecting when they told Amy she was going to need surgery to repair the damage before she could think about a return, and they kept her not just overnight on Sunday but through Monday too. It was Tuesday before we travelled back to New Orleans and in the days that followed her own primary care doctor confirmed the opinion before setting her up with a visit to a specialist at the end of the week. It was starting to look like she had no option other than surgical, not just to come back to the ring but to even walk without pain. I wanted to go to the meeting with the specialist more than I think I’d openly admit to her, but I told her that it should be her and Wyatt who went to the appointment and instead I suggested that we watched Loki and Jaina... not that either of them needed a sitter, they were old enough really, or Jaina was at any rate, but I felt like this was something that Amy and Wyatt should do alone. Nia went shopping with Jaina, no doubt blowing a hole on my platinum card if I know my wife. You can imagine my lack of surprise when they returned a few hours later with their arms overloaded with bags... the Lo-meister and me though, we went with a far less expensive and far more entertaining option; I let him kick my ass on the SCW video game for half the afternoon. I wish that was true; sad fact is, I was actually trying my best, but unlike real life, the video game version of me just couldn’t catch a break...

When Amy and Wyatt got back from the appointment with the specialist, despite wanting to no-doubt know what was going on herself, Jaina suggested that she take Loki out into the yard for a while so that we could talk. That young woman is way too smart for her own good, though I can’t say I didn’t appreciate it in the moment... guess we’ve come a long way since the early days when she flipped the fuck out about her mom and me, huh? “Well, they didn’t tell me anything I guess I didn’t already know,” Amy said with a sigh as Wyatt helped her down onto the couch in the living room. By this point, Amy’s been driving us all mad by refusing help whenever she could, but the trip was clearly exhausting even if it was mostly sitting in the car and she didn’t put up a fight as he helped her sit down. “Basically said the doctor in St. Louis and my doctor both have it right... surgery is the only option if I want to walk normally again,” she added with a sigh as she sat back and gingerly lifted her leg up onto the footstool that was sat in front of the couch. “And the sooner I go under the knife, the better apparently; she said that they want to operate before the bone begins to fuse on its own, which only causes more problems. I think I accepted it the minute Doctor Bonin told me the same as the doc in St Louis, but hearing it for a third time kinda left me with no uncertainty...” she told us before sighing again; it was odd watching someone as headstrong as Amy almost look defeated, resigned to her fate and, well, as much as I hate to admit it, looking like she was ready to give up. Surgery is no small matter, I know that one all too well myself, but it was almost scary seeing her look like that.

“Did they talk about recovery times?” I asked as I sat down on a couch chair and Aniya perched on the arm of the same chair, both of us looking at Amy as she gave a small nod.

“It’s not the recovery time that’s an issue, but the rehab time,” Amy replied, frowning. “I’ll be up and walking about with crutches after about a week, I have to start building strength again so it’s not like I’ll be sat around for weeks or months,” she added as Wyatt sat down next to her on the couch. “But the rehab will take months...”

“About nine to twelve for a full return to the ring,” Wyatt said, reaching out to put his hand on top of Amy’s. “Knowing you it’ll be closer to nine than twelve, but it’s no short return either way,” he added and I nodded my head. You don’t have to tell me that one twice; when it comes to a stubborn refusal to bow to the odds, there aren’t many as stubborn as Amy, that was for sure... which is what made it pretty scary to see her in the state of defeat that she almost seemed to be in, even if she was trying to hide it. The eyes don’t life half as well as the mouth can, you know?

“So realistically, this time next year then?” I said, weighing that up in my mind; a year is a long ass time, can’t deny that... but it’s not the end of the world, either. It’s not like they’ve said that she won’t ever be able to compete again, it’s not a death sentence or a career-ending injury. That was a positive sign. “Maybe a little sooner if we find the right people to help, a good sports therapist and physio team...” I added, already starting to think about doing some research once I got home later, looking up the best therapists in the state.

“It might be a little too soon to be thinking that far ahead yet, anyway,” Wyatt said, but I didn’t agree with that one at all.

“You think so?” I asked. I didn’t want him to think I was slamming his opinion or anything like that, but I really didn’t think there was such a thing as too soon, not as far as this was concerned anyway. “I mean, I know the surgery is gonna come with risks, and there’s nothing certain in life and all that... but I mean, shouldn’t we be looking on the optimistic side rather than, you know,” I finished with a shrug. I didn’t want to actually say pessimistic, just because I didn’t want to make Wyatt think like that was what I was labelling him.

“I think Wyatt just means that we should focus on the immediate future rather than further down the line babe,” Aniya said. I guess she was playing devil’s advocate or whatever... not like I expected her to be thinking about if rather than when, but someone needed to play intermediary I guess; I sure as fuck wasn’t going to be defeatist about all of this, but I know I have a tendency to get ahead of myself too. She was just trying to reign me in. “That said though, Jase is right about finding the right people to help once you do get back on the road to recovery... we’ll have to look into that once you’ve had the surgery,” she added, and it was nice to hear her back me up, even if it wasn’t like we were actually in the middle of a real debate. Made me realize I wasn’t taking things too far or whatever...

“I’m not sure,” Amy said, which set my brows furrowing all of their own accord; wasn’t so sure about what?! “I’m not sure I’ll make it back to the ring...”

“Bullshit!” I said, actually laughing. “Like you’re gonna let this stop you from getting back in that ring the minute they clear you to return to action...”

She actually shrugged... what the hell kind of alternate dimension twilight zone shit did I walk through when we landed at New Orleans international? “I’m being serious,” Amy said, another resigned sigh coming from her mouth before she tried to sit up a little straighter and winced at the pain in her knee as she pushed herself up the couch a little. “I dunno if you’ve noticed or not Jase, but I’m not exactly one of the youngest on the roster,” she told me, but went on before I could object. “I’m turning forty two in August, I may even turn forty three by the time I’m ready to make a comeback... and that’s if I’m even able to get to that point again. This is the second time I've injured the same knee. The human body can only take so much. If I can’t compete at one hundred percent every week, I’m not gonna compete at all. I think... I think this may be it,” she said, swallowing hard like she had a lump in her throat. Understandable; aside from her family, wrestling was her life. I wish I could be that dedicated, even a tenth of that...

“We’ve got a lot to think about this weekend though, and that’s only part of it,” Wyatt said before I could try and talk some sense into her. It probably wasn’t the right time and place for that anyway, given that she was already having a hard time accepting that she had to go under the knife to fix a second knee issue in her career. Once is unlucky, but twice? “The specialist talked a little about what happens once the surgery has been completed... and that has its own problems,” he told us, and Nia was evidently as confused as I was about what he meant by that, but she got there before I did with actually asking.

“What kind of problems?” she asked, getting straight to the point. This was proving to be a much stranger discussion than I ever imagined it would be; I figured we’d be discussing how we get her back on her feet and preparing for her big comeback next year, but this? It was taking me way out of my comfort zone, and that’s saying something.

“It’s what we were talking about on the drive back here,” Amy told us, starting to fill in the blanks that we were clearly missing. “Doctor Broussard pointed out that it’s gonna be a painful recovery, at least at first anyway... she wants to put me on hydrocodone... from now until two or three weeks into rehab, so that I can do what needs to be done without too much trouble or pain,”

I wasn’t following at first, I guess I was just being dumb or my brain wasn’t properly processing everything because there was too much to process, but I didn’t see the problem with that at first. “Isn’t that kind of standard though?” I asked, still not catching onto why that would be something that Amy was hesitant about. “I mean, it’s not like you can have major reconstruction surgery down on your knee and then just deal with the pain afterwards...”

“It’s not the fact that she doesn’t want to take pain relief,” Wyatt said with a hint of reservation in his voice, but Amy shook her head to emphasize his point before picking the explanation up for him.

“It’s the fact that she wants to put me on that specific type,” she said, continuing from where Wyatt left off. Dumb as I should feel, I still wasn’t following. “That was what I overdosed on back in two thousand sixteen...”

Yep. Slap bang in the face. Like walking into a brick wall... now you can see why I felt like a fucking moron for not following when she said she was hesitant to take the pills. I mean, it’s not like it’s something I should have fucking forgotten, you know? Not like Amy has been shy with talking about what happened and suddenly the hesitancy made sense, even if I thought she was overthinking it way too much. “We both kinda agree that it may be for the best if she turned down the suggestion,” Wyatt said, and while I understood almost, the notion of that set alarm bells ringing in my head. “Not just because of the bad memories, it’s more than that... we both know what they did last time, and we’re both worried that it’s not a great idea to even risk that again...”

Don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to explain to me that prescription pain meds can be a bad idea; I try to avoid them myself if I can help it, given my own issues with Vicodin back when that was the vogue pain killer of choice for people in moderate to severe pain... I ended up addicted, like I thought I was Greg House or some shit, after the accident back in two thousand six, both Amy and Wyatt are more than aware of what Nia had to do to get me over that shit... but the circumstances were completely fucking different this time for Amy than they were before, and surely that made all the damn difference?! “Okay, I get that,” I said, frowning as I tried to think of the most diplomatic way of explaining that I thought they were both mental. “But don’t you think that’s kind of an extreme reaction?” I asked, and Wyatt only sighed, but Amy stared at me before scoffing.

“Those pills nearly killed me Jase, how is this an extreme reaction?” Amy asked, and I knew it must have been a hard thing to talk about again, especially under the circumstances that she may have to take a trip down memory lane all over again if she listened to the doctors and took the pills, but this wasn’t the same situation and she had to see that. “I know I’m in for a lot of pain after they do the surgery, but I’m not sure I want to take the risk of getting back in the same situation I was on before and Wyatt agrees with me, even if he’s a little more on the fence than I am about it,” she added and I looked at Wyatt, my gaze almost begging him to say Amy was wrong, but after a moment, he just nodded his head and my hopes sank like the Titanic. “I know you think I’m nuts Jason--” Amy started to say again, but I cut her off this time; it was difficult to find a way of both getting my view across but also keeping level-headed enough to not sound like I was angry with her... I wasn’t angry, just concerned, but the two could sound kind of similar if I was pig-headed enough about something.

“It’s not that I don’t understand the logic,” I said before sighing. “It’s just that... ugh,” I added, faltering before turning my attention to Wyatt and Aniya. “Listen, you two mind giving us a minute?” I asked, and while I know that it probably seems weird that I was asking Wyatt to leave us alone in his own house, given everything he didn’t even bat an eyelid, neither did Nia. Wyatt said they’d go check on the kids outside and give us a few minutes together and I waited for them to leave the room before getting up and walking over to sit next to Amy. This was exactly why I wanted them to leave the room... close quarters like this, I didn’t want to make things awkward, so it was that or have to find a different way of saying what I wanted to say. “Listen babe, I understand that you’re scared about what could happen if you agree to take the pills again, but you need to think about how far you’ve come since your overdose,” I said, grabbing her hand. “If you were still drinking, I wouldn’t even think about saying that you should take ‘em, but you’re not the same woman you were back then. I know I didn’t know you in two thousand sixteen, but I’ve seen you change a fuck tonne just in the last year, and if you’re honestly letting ghosts from your past stop you from making the right decision then it’s my job to stop you from doing that,” I told her, hoping that she was truly listening to me, taking the words in rather than just humoring me because she felt she had to.

“They almost killed me Jase,” she told me, gripping my hand tightly but looking adamant. “I haven’t touched it since. I’ve used other things when needed, like the bruised ribs after fighting James Evans... but they tried to give it to me then and I refused, so why should this be any different?” she asked... she is way too fucking stubborn for her own good. Fortunately, her argument was null and void as far as I was concerned, for one simple reason.

“And none of that matters because like I just said, you’re not the same person that you used to be!” I told her, refusing to let her brush that one off. “I get it okay? You haven’t forgotten that I was hooked on Vicodin at one point, surely? So telling me that you don’t want to take the stuff, I get it... but you’re basing the decision entirely on something you experienced when you were an entirely different person babe. That’s what I need you to understand,” I said, trying to show her that her worries are nowhere near as valid as she thought they were. “If you were still drinking, I’d accept it straight away without question; last thing you need to do is mix alcohol and hydrocodone, we both know where that got you... but you haven’t touched a drop in months, at least more than a sip anyway. If you follow the instructions from the doctor, stick to the limit and hell, if you want to only take them if things get unbearable then so be it... but don’t turn them down simply because you think about what happened two years ago, because two years ago was then and this is now.”

“I don’t know if I can do it Jase,” Amy said, sounding a little scared. “I’ve avoided the stuff for so long that giving in now would feel like a step backwards,” she added, and it’s not like I didn’t understand where she was coming from; if she could give in to this, what else could she give in to? Would she say just one glass of amaretto? Would she say just one shot of bourbon? Would that turn into one bottle? Would she start hiding wine around the house or drink vodka pretending it’s water? I’m exaggerating obviously, but that must have been how it felt to just think about backing down on this one... but I know she’s stronger than that too.

“You won’t be making steps full stop if you don’t take something,” I told her, smirking a little and it was a relief to see a hint of a grin appear on her face, even if it was brief. “Look, I get it... but you’ve got people around you that can keep track of what you’re taking, how much and when. You have a lot of people around you that care, and there’s a big difference between being noble and being stupid...”

“You think I’m being stupid?” Amy asked, genuinely looking a little offended, even if the corners of her mouth soon twitched with a hint of a smirk again.

“I will if you ignore medical advice and say no to the meds that the specialist advices you to take, yeah...” I told her flatly, not even bothering to attempt to sugarcoat it at all. “You have to think about what’s more important... making things easier on yourself so you can get better, or stubbornly clinging to the past? And if you even think about saying the latter, I’m going home right now,” I told her finally grinning again.

“I guess you’re right,” She said, actually looking dejected. I wasn’t gonna stand for that.

“And you can cut that out as well,” I told her, and she looked at me in confusion. “The looking disappointed in yourself shit; this isn’t weakness, it’s making the best decision for your wellbeing, and as far as I’m concerned you’re making the far braver decision by agreeing to take them than you ever would be by turning them down... practice what you preach, babe. Be brave.”

I think it was that which finally won her over in the end; there was no denying that she had done a lot over the last couple of years that you’d say fell into the bravery category. She’s faced her own demons, she’s grown so much as a person and despite being in the position she currently was, I was confident that she could get through this as well. “Don’t for a minute think that we’re gonna let you start popping the things like candy,” I told her, smirking. “We’ll keep them locked away if you’re that worried about it, make sure you only get them at set times or if you really need them, whatever makes you more comfortable about taking them in general... but just have them around if you need them, alright?”

“Alright, I’ll tell Doctor Broussard that I’ll take the scrip,” she finally conceded, smiling nervously, but I wasn’t letting her be unsure about it anymore. I grinned broadly at her before leaning forward to kiss her. Another bonus of Wyatt and Nia not being in the room.

“Good. Like you said, it's only for the first two or three weeks anyway, until the worst is over with, you know?” I told her as I broke away from her and gave her hand another squeeze. “Now settle back, and I’ll tell the rest that it’s safe to come inside, then I’m gonna see about fixing dinner. I think it’s about time I introduced a little New Jersey into this house... it’s far too Cajun for my liking,” I told her, smirking again.

“Wait, you’re gonna cook?” she asked and I was actually kind of insulted at that; it was me who cooked most of the time at home anyway, Nia being one of those people who could burn water if left to her own devices in the kitchen.

I smirked as I shook my head though. “Nah... I’m gonna order pizza!” I told her with a laugh and Amy started laughing herself as I shoved up from the couch to go and tell everyone they could come back in.

“That’s more New York than New Jersey,” Amy shouted after me and I could tell she was smirking from the tone of her voice, but I didn’t even turn around as I replied.

“Maybe,” I said, smirking to myself as I just kept walking, pausing at the doorway out of the room before turning to look back over my shoulder. “But we do everything better, south of the Hudson,” I told her with a wink before disappearing from sight. I felt so much better about things having convinced her to accept the prescription; I knew why she was hesitant, I knew why she wanted to try and tough it out without them, but even with those reasons, I also knew that she had to think about her wellbeing more than her past. It wasn’t gonna be an easy road, the road to recovery; it was gonna be tough, she’d probably come up against hurdles and stumbling blocks, maybe even literally with that last one... but we’d get through this. She had Wyatt, her two kids, her mom, she had her friends... and she had us too, me and Aniya. It may not be conventional, in fact it was anything but... but family doesn’t have to be the people you’re related to by blood, does it? I know all about that one, believe me...

Aurora, New Orleans, Louisiana
June 12th, 2018

I wish I could say that the rest of our conversation’s over the next few days were as successful as the one Amy and me had when I managed to talk her into accepting the offer of pain meds once she’d had the surgery she needed... but the other big one that weekend, about the future of her career, that one hadn’t been as successful and knowing I’d be going to the Smoothie King Arena the following day for Breakdown – my first as interim United States Champion – with the knowledge that Amy was going to bring the curtain down on a long and successful career, both in SCW and the business as a whole... it was hard bro, let’s put it that way. That didn’t do it justice at all to be honest, but I don’t think I really have to go into detail about how that made me feel as I started thinking about heading to bed. It was only early, at least relatively speaking anyway, given it wasn’t even Ten pm yet, but the previous week and change had been kind of exhausting, emotionally and physically and I wanted to get a good night’s sleep ahead of the first show following Taking Hold of the Flame. I had no doubt about whether I’d be in for a lot of ‘fun’, using the word in an entirely sarcastic fashion. Regan was probably licking her lips at the notion of getting me inside of the ring after I beat Ikiro Yoshida for the interim championship. Nice chance to slap her “dumb” brother-in-law around a little and beat some sense into him. It’s almost amusing that she thinks that taking the title away from me is going to change a damn thing in terms of my life away from the ring. Being a champion is a great feeling... but at the end of the day it’s only fifteen pounds of leather and gold-plated nickel, and championships may come and go but memories live forever and Regan may unify the belts again and go on to face whoever she’s going to face at Rise to Greatness while I no doubt face Bree if booking is as logical as it should be at this point... but those record books are always going to say that I won the title from Ikiro at Taking Hold of the Flame, a year on from when I joined the company...

Aniya was on a business call in the office as I slobbed around in my lounge pants and t-shirt in the living room, half-heartedly flicking through twitter; part of me thought about having some fun, making causing a little trouble or even just posting some shit to occupy myself, but with everything that was to come the following night I didn’t really feel in the mood. Cable had one a dreadful job of distracting me already and I’d stuck music on the stereo instead just to give some sort of background noise to an otherwise quiet house but I can’t say I’d even paid much attention to what was playing; Spotify had been playing a bunch of songs from some playlist of other but it was just on, noise that was just there and in truth it was probably wasted on me as much as cable tv was a little earlier but it was better than sitting there with nothing playing whatsoever. Glancing at the time on my phone, I clicked off of twitter without sending a single tweet and locked the screen. I’d give Nia another twenty minutes or so before telling her I was turning in for the night. That was the plan anyway, as I got up and started to make my way into the hallway to head for the kitchen; I thought about opening another beer, but I’d only opened the first one because I thought it may help me relax a little and given that hadn’t worked, a second probably wasn’t going to help, but I was kind of thirsty... which is beer doing its job I guess, because the first beer is designed to make you thirsty enough to want a second, it’s how they make their money. I was more set on juice though, and I started to head for the door to the kitchen before a knock on the main entrance door behind me stopped me in my tracks.

I thought about ignoring it; it wasn’t gonna be Amy or Wyatt or even the kids would bother knocking like that, given they all had a key... well, apart from Loki, but he’s ten so that was hardly a shock. It’s not like he was making his own way over here, not alone, and if he was coming with either of his parents of Jaina, they’d have a key anyway. If it wasn’t as late as it was, maybe I would have ignored it; chances are, it would have been someone selling something or trying to get us to give to charity or welcome god into our heathen lives or whatever... but at this time of night? Probably wasn’t the bible bashers at least. And if someone was trying to sell us cleaning products or new air con, they really were dedicated. Sighing, I turned and started walking towards the door as the caller knocked again and regardless of what I expected, I didn’t expect to see my brother standing on the other side when I opened it!“Hey, hope you don’t mind me stopping by, I know it’s kind of late,” Dave said as I gawped at him from inside of the doorway, kind of confused and a little surprised to see him there. I didn’t even know he knew the address. “You okay?” he asked as I pulled myself together and stepped back to let him in, though I still hadn’t said anything as I closed the door behind him and turned to give a what the fuck expression. “I have access to all the personnel files, you do know that, right? You gave them the address for this place ages ago in case they needed it for any reason... wasn’t hard to pull the file up on my laptop and grab the address,” he said with a laugh as I mentally slapped myself in the forehead. Should have fucking guessed, really... I mean, it wasn’t like I didn’t want him to know where I stayed when we were out here or anything, I just didn’t know how the fuck he found the place that’s all.

“I guess I’ll have to put my plans for world domination on hold now you’ve found my secret layer of doom, huh?” I joked, smirking as I started walking towards the kitchen again, Dave falling in step behind me. “I was just about to grab a drink, you want one? Nia’s upstairs on a call, something to do with the bar, I don’t even ask these days... I’ll give her a shout in a few, let her know you’re here,” I said as we walked into the kitchen.

“Nah, don’t disturb her,” he said as I motioned for him to take a seat at the kitchen table and made my way to the refrigerator. “And a drink would be good... nothing alcoholic though, I drove out here,” he said, jingling the keys to his rental before placing them down on the top of the kitchen table where he pulled a seat out and sat down.

“Got Gatorade if that’s still your thing?” I said, peering around in the fridge. “Or there’s soda, water, juice... I’ll put the pot on if you want a coffee?”

“Gatorade’s fine bro,” he said, so I grabbed a bottle from the back of the fridge and grabbed the carton of OJ from the inside of the door before shutting it and walking over to the table. “Thanks,” he said as he took the bottle from me and I nodded before taking a seat across the table from him, sipping straight out of the carton of juice, because it’s my house and I’ll adult as poorly as I want, yo!

“So what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked, sitting back in my chair and looking across at him. He still looked tired, more so than the last time we’d spoken; heavy is the head that wears the crown, as they say... running the shows was evidently harder than he’d expected, which came as kind of a shock given how he’d run UWA as general manager and part owner for a good chunk of time before they had to shut up shop.

“What, I can’t just drive out here to check out my brother’s place?” he asked, smiling. Yeah, because that was likely; even if the whole of SCW was in town for Breakdown the following morning, it still seemed suspect that he’d just show up to see the place. I was skeptical to say the least. “It’s a nice place by the way... love what you’ve done with it; from what Aniya told me, you had to do a lot to remodel it but it looks great...”

“Thanks... though I doubt you’re here solely to compliment me on the work we’ve done here, so how dispensing with the chit-chat?” I suggested... I probably sounded like a dick, and I had no reason to be as pissy with him as that no doubt came across, but I had a lot on my mind and really didn’t want to hear a lecture on top of that. That was usually what I got when he wanted to talk. “If it’s about that thing with Dom--”

“Wait, what thing with Dom?” he asked, suddenly looking troubled, more so than he did originally anyway. “Fuck bro, you’ve not been causing even more shit, have you? I swear, if I have to go on twitter and find out what you’ve done this time, I’m gonna--”

I cut him off before he could go on any further. “Woah, hold up asshole, I haven’t done anything else,” I told him, rolling me eyes. “Shit, I haven’t been on twitter in days... I was talking about the stuff the other week. The reason I turned up at Taking Hold of the Flame with a bruise on my face...”

“That was Dom?” he asked, looking kind of impressed actually. “Guess he finally learned how to throw a punch then,” he added, smiling. “He toyed with the idea of learning to fight at one point, a few years back... I told him it probably wasn’t for him after about twenty minutes go over the most basic bag work,” he said, chuckling to himself at the memory. “I didn’t know he’s done that though... but it is kind of fitting for why I’m here, though I’m doing it in my capacity as your brother, rather than your boss...”

“So it’s a personal lecture instead of a professional one then?” I said with a dry laugh. Truth is, I wasn’t really joking, not when I was starting to wonder if other’s got the same shit from him that I did at times. He was my older brother, I guess he saw it as kind of his job to try and keep an eye on me and make sure I wasn’t making mistakes or whatever... but at times, I had to wonder if he actually singled me out with his little lectures where others got a free pass. “So what have I done this time?” I asked, taking another drink of juice.

“You haven’t done anything,” he said, sighing before twisting the cap from his Gatorade and taking a drink. “I mean, these last few weeks have just been a shit show all together, but I’m not here because of anything new anyway... I just, I’m having a difficult time right now with you and Regan and throw Aaron into that, things weighing on me, I guess I wanted to just touch base and make sure I’m not gonna have to deal with anything tomorrow, you know?”

Had he really just said that? Said that he was there because he wanted to pre-warn me about my behavior or something?! “So you want to lecture me about something I may or may not do then?” I asked him, shaking my head. “Does Regan get these lectures, or are they reserved solely for me? What about Aaron? Did you bust his balls when he turned his backs on the fans in order to join up with Regan and Past Present Future?” I asked, getting annoyed and quickly. “I swear to god bro, I--”

“I’m not here to give you a lecture, Jesus!” he said, sighing and rolling his eyes. “Why the fuck do you keep saying that, huh? Do I really bust your balls that often that you have to get defensive every time I want to talk?”

“Honestly? Yeah, you do,” I told him, nodding my head. I could have listed the amount of times that he gave me shit for things I said or did or put on twitter, put in my promos. It wasn’t a rare occurrence, even if he didn’t always dress it up as a lecture at the time.

“Fuck,” he said, dragging a hand down his face as he took a deep breath and let it out slowly with a sigh. “It’s not easy, you know? Trying to do the job I’ve been doing, your own family at one another’s throats... I don’t want it to seem like I’m riding your ass all the time, especially when I know Regan causes her fair share of problems...”

“That’s a fucking understatement,” I told him, rolling my eyes. “The only reason you have this job is because she damn near crippled the boss and she’s been giving you hell since she came back from her suspension... yet here you are, the eve of my first Breakdown as interim champ, about to give me a reprimand or whatever, about not doing anything that will give you a headache or whatever... it’s not just annoying or disheartening bro, it’s aggravating!”

He sat there, glaring at me for a moment, before sighing and nodding his head. “I know,” he admitted. That was kind of a shock. “And I know I should be firmer with her than I am, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place no matter what I do bro, you have to see that...”

“I’m not saying I think your job’s easy,” I told him. It wasn’t; running a show must be so difficult, dealing with all the ego’s and the demands... but he didn’t have to take the job either, so there’s a finite amount of sympathy I can have for him too. A simple no would have left him without any of this. “But at the same time, there’s only so many times I can sit here and listen to you scold me when I’ve been a fucking saint compared to half the people in the company... I haven’t intentionally given you any headaches since you took the job, apart from you wanting to try and cover for me with the Amy stuff leading up to Bree’s attempt at outing us... and yet you’re here again, the night before my first show as a champ, about to tell me not to do anything to cause trouble. Answer me one question; has Regan had the same warning or are you laying the responsibility solely at my door?”

He hung his head for a moment and let out a deep breath, before looking up at me again. “Look...” he said, clearly trying to figure out how to avoid us clashing. If only he knew how much shit was going through my head in this moment, he may have thought twice about coming here. “I’m not going to tell you what to do, okay? You’ve made your position more than clear when I’ve tried that in the past... I guess I just came here to see you because I haven’t seen you since the morning after Taking Hold of the Flame and to be blunt, I’m really growing tired of the fact my family is falling to pieces around me, you know?” he asked, once again looking truly tired and part of me wanted to feel bad for him... but the rest of me was still irked. “Jason’s been asking why you haven’t been around lately, you know that? He asked Regan the other week why you don’t visit anymore... it’s tough for him, he’s not old enough to really understand what goes on, we try to shelter him from the business the best we can...”

“I didn’t know that,” I told him. I didn’t. But I did feel bad about it. “Tell him I’ll come see him soon, okay? We’re only out here because of Amy and her knee, plus with Breakdown being here it made sense to stay until the end of this week’s run...”

“I know, I get it,” He said, waving my explanation away. “Doesn’t change the fact that the kid misses his uncle though, so if I tell him you’ll come see him soon, make sure you do okay?” he said and I nodded my head. That was a given. I’m not that kind of asshole. “I understand how difficult it’s been for you though... Regan is taking this way too far for my liking, and I have told her that before you question me. I’ve told her this fixation on hating on you because of Amy is ridiculous... I have no problem with Amy at all, she’s a good person, but you know Regan.”

“Yeah, she’s a fucking psychopath half the time,” I told him, and I was only half joking when I said it.

He frowned at me but, surprisingly, didn’t scold me for it. “I just wish you two would stop with the bullshit and get back to how things were,” he said, sighing. “I can deal with the fact that my wife causes problems every week, I can even deal with the fact that my son has gone into business for himself. He has to make his own choices, just as you do... but the fact that you’re at each other’s throats? There’s three members of the Helms family in SCW right now, you guys could be owning the place... instead, I’ve probably got to book you and her against each other in a match that isn’t gonna be about unifying the belt, but about you tearing strips off one another...”

I nodded my head. He wasn’t wrong. “Yeah well, your wife needs to get off her high fucking horse and realize that I don’t have to live my life according to what she thinks is acceptable for that one to happen, because as far as I’m concerned bro, I’ve done nothing wrong in all of this...”

“Maybe you haven’t,” he said, almost admitting that he agreed with me without actually doing so. Probably the best I was going to get. “But that doesn’t mean you have to push things too far... hell, it’s probably gone too far already, but I’m trying to save my fucking family right now, isn’t that worth fighting for?” he asked, giving me a look that screamed desperation for me to agree. Sad thing is, in an ideal world, yeah, I would agree with him. We should be on the same page, we should be fighting alongside one another and making sure that the company knows that the Helms family run the fucking show... but we’re not and I doubt that’s coming any time soon now...

“The ironic thing is that I’m doing exactly the same,” I told him, and he looked confused. But I think I’d had this argument in my head for some time now, ever since the heat started over me and Amy in those early days. “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true... maybe it’s not the same definition that you have, but honestly bro, do you realize just how important Amy, Wyatt and her kids have become to me and Aniya over the last six months?” I asked, and he didn’t speak, didn’t even shake or nod. I could tell from that that he probably didn’t though, otherwise he’d have reacted straight away. “You say you’re fighting to keep your family together bro, and I get it. You’re my brother and I love you. I even love Regan, psychotic as she may be. Same with Aaron, Jason, Scarlett, Elysia, all of you. Family is family, regardless of the hard times... but Amy, Wyatt, Jaina and Loki? They’re my family too, whether Regan wants to acknowledge that fact or not. You have your family and I have mine... And the sooner she fucking accepts that the better, because this idea she has that I’m disrespecting or turning my back on my family because I don’t hate the same people as she does? I find that just as fucking disrespectful as she thinks I’m being towards our surname, maybe more so. She’s disrespecting me right now, treating me like I’m some fucking kid who needs putting on the right track... but I’m a grown adult that’s older than she is and I’ll damn well do what I see fit regardless of whether I have her approval or not!”

“You think that’s what she’s doing?” he asked me, clearly not agreeing with my assessment. But I just nodded my head.

“I do,” I told him, shrugging. “You saw her, bringing me to the ring and trying to get me to fall in line with what her idea for the family is, telling me to make the right decision... she thinks she’s the head of this family and her word is law, but she’s not and it isn’t. Aaron may ask how high when she says jump, but I’m not him and she’s not got the control over me that she thinks she should have. She’s a fantastic talent, but she’s also a head case and when I do meet her in the ring I’ll do everything I can to ensure she goes home unhappy... I’m sorry bro, but that’s just how it is. I’ll leave it in the ring after, regardless of what happens, but between those bells... I’m holding nothing back, and I hope you understand that...”

He let out another sigh, putting the cap back on his Gatorade before sliding his chair out from underneath the table. He looked so fucking dejected in that moment... it was fucking awful. “I knew that from the minute you won that belt,” he said, nodding. “And I’ve accepted that already, but I had to at least ask... listen, I’ll see you are the arena tomorrow, alright?” he said, clearly giving up on trying to clear things up at this point and I pushed my own chair out from underneath the table to walk him to the door. “This is a nice place by the way... you’ll have to show me around properly at some point, maybe when it’s not so late...”

“Yeah, sure thing bro,” I said, nodding as was walked to the door and he made to open it. “Listen, Dave?” I said, and he paused, looking back at me. “I’m not doing any of this to try and tear the family apart, you know that right?” I asked and he nodded.

“I know dude, I know...” he told me sadly, resigned to the fact that this was only going to go one way and one way only. “Doesn’t change the fact that it is doing that...”

“And it doesn’t change the person responsible for it either,” I reminded him, unwilling to shoulder the blame when it was Regan making such a big deal out of this. He only nodded his head and sighed again. “If she lets it go, concentrates on fighting one of the other enemies she seems to make by the dozen once we’ve had our match, then that’s good enough for me... I’m not looking to drag this one once we’ve sorted out the issue of who holds the belt. But if she doesn’t then you don’t have me to blame for any of it...”

Nodding his head, all he could do was shrug. He didn’t really have an argument, and how could he? I wasn’t the one making this about the family, I wasn’t making it personal... I wasn’t the one dragging our name through the mud for the sake of cheap point scoring and he couldn’t argue that. But neither would he disrespect his wife by saying I was right either and I had to respect him for that, even if I thought he was an idiot. We said our goodbyes and he left, no doubt heading back to whatever hotel SCW had put the roster up in for the night, and I walked back into the house, carrying my juice into the lounge to sit down again. Had I been too stubborn with him? Maybe. He only came there because he was concerned about how much damage we were doing with this feud and I hated seeing him torn down the middle wanting to keep everything together... but this was something he was just going to need to let happen, because ultimately, it needed to. Not just because of the title, but because of the fact that we really were at such loggerheads over how she thought I was in the wrong. We had to sort this out... and as far as I could see, there was only one option on how we did that, and that was inside of the ring. Whether things would work themselves out after that or whether they’d crumble even more I don’t know, but there was only one way to find out... right?

I think that was the night that I truly realized that family doesn’t have to be the people you’re related to, but that it extends to anyone you consider close enough to love them as if you are related. I know that sounds dumb, given that marriage is practically that in a way, that it’s welcoming someone into your family because you love them... but everything I’ve been through with Amy, everything we’ve all been through up to this point, it’s proven to me that they’re every bit a part of my family as my own flesh and blood are and if that isn’t worth fighting for as much as what Regan is fighting for, then I don’t know what would be. Regan says I’m tearing the family apart, that I’m being selfish and this is all my fault... but she’s not just tearing our family apart because of her own selfishness, but she’s attempting to screw with my family too, the one that she isn’t a part of. And that... that angers me. That pisses me off in the wrong fucking way, a way that only motivates me even more than I already was. I can’t say I’m looking forward to what’s coming this week on Breakdown... but I am going to take advantage of it, because this week I can show Regan Helms, Regan Street, whatever the fuck she wants to be known as, that her word isn’t law and that her opinion isn’t fact. It’s just that; opinion. And opinions are like assholes; everyone has them and most of them stink... but as far as I’m concerned, the only opinion that matters right now is my own, and if Regan chooses not to like it, if people start turning their back on me because of it, then so fucking be it. I’m walking out there to fight for what I believe in this week, I’m going out there to fight for what I feel, what I think, fight for my right to live my own life however the fuck I want... and if I win or I lose, it doesn’t fucking matter. What matters is that I show Regan, my dear darling fucking sister in law, that her opinion is fucking irrelevant as far as I’m concerned! Because she may think she’s fighting for her family... but me? I’m fighting for both of my families... so I hope she’s ready to fucking double down, because I’m not going down without a fight. A family feud you could say. But without the wise cracking black guy to bring the comic relief. It’s All About The Name guys... but you know what? It’s not just the Helms name that it’s about, it’s the full name. It’s all about Jason Helms... and hopefully that’s the name the other Jason announces when all’s said and done...