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

Jason Helms’ Home
Aurora, Louisiana
A few days after Cold Blooded...

Let me go on record, right here right now, and say that the Wonderland fucking sucks! Jesus… I don’t think I’ve ever been so fucked up by a match in my life! Well… apart from, you know, the one that caused me months of memory loss and kind of messed my life up for years afterwards. But then, I mean, I lost my memory in that thing and don’t really remember much of the match at all, so can I actually claim to remember how much that one sucked in comparison? Okay, how’s this; in recent memory, since my return to the business a couple years ago, I have never been through anything as fucked up as that. And I’ve been in the ring as Bree Lancaster’s tag partner so I know a thing or two about fucked up matches!

Dave, Amy, Niamh, they’ve all explained to me how messed up I was in the immediate aftermath of the match, how fucked up I was when they recovered me from the bowels of that stage that was purpose-built for Gio’s vision of insanity that was the Wonderland Match, but to be honest, I don’t remember much of that either. If he wanted bonus points for being able to mentally fuck with someone, he could have the whole sheet of gold star stickers bro, because while my rational brain knows it was just a fight and that ultimately it was just a hole we both fell into but I swear to god, he did something to me in that match that really did a number on me in the hours that followed. Days even. And the fucked up thing about it is that there’s part of me that actually felt like I had to applaud the douchebag, because nobody else in all of SCW has ever put me through the ringer like that dickbag did, physically or mentally! Which seems so fucking weird to me… like, I’m not trying to brag or act macho or anything like that, I know I’m only mortal and shit, believe me… but I kind of, I dunno, I’ve always been pretty good at detaching myself from the business if that makes sense?

Like, okay, you know those people who can go to work nine to five and as soon as they punch out, they couldn’t give a fuck? Well, most wrestlers can’t do that. They can’t separate themselves from the business at any point. Look at my big brother; he eats sleeps and lives wrestling, whether he’s working or not. He retired, only to run two training schools and not only buy a chunk of a rival company but also become its general manager until Drew Bryant spaffed everything up the wall by making what turned out to be the first of many dumb business decisions that ultimately caused the destruction of the company. Dave doesn’t know where David Helms the wrestler ends and David Helms the person begins, and I’m not gonna criticise him for that, because he’s dedicated his whole life to the business and everything he has he owes to professional wrestling, that’s fair enough… but I’m not my brother. We may see eye to eye on way more things these days than we did say, two years ago, but I’m not David Helms, I don’t think like him, live like him or even care like him. Not to the same extent anyway. I guess I’ve softened to some degree over the last couple of years, in no small part due to Amy I guess, but I didn’t change my spots overnight like people seem to think the business works. Seriously, I love the fans these days, but how naive do you have to be to believe that someone can pull a complete one eighty overnight and just become a different person. It’s foolish to the Nth, you know? But man, those guys, they’re the ones that ultimately pay my grossly overvalued paycheque so I can’t really complain, can I?

What the fuck was I saying?

See! That just shows where my head’s at right now, bro. Ever since that match, which was days ago now, I’ve just not been myself. I don’t even know how to explain it either, that’s what really fucks with my head; I don’t believe in Gio’s hoodoo bullshit, I don’t believe in the ‘magic’ of the Wonderland or the crazy crap he spouts, any of that nonsense… but here I am, feeling like I don’t know if it’s Breakfast time or asshole, and it all started with the end of that fucking match! I don’t know if he even did anything or this is all in my own head, that’s another thing that’s driving me crazy about all of this… I used to be the asshole playing mind games, fucking with people, but now it feels like I let him do that to me and I can’t help feeling weak minded for it. The fuck is wrong with me, bro? Was there anything wrong with me, that was another question that I couldn’t shake… I think that was the part of me that didn’t want to admit that Giovanni Aries actually got under my skin, if I’m honest. My pride, basically. Or my ego? I don’t want to admit that I let that asshole get to me on the level that he did, and was trying to make excuses, that my body was doing things out of stress or some similar bullshit like that. The body is a weird thing at the best of times, especially when you consider that we’re a walking sack of bones running on electricity more or less. The amount of things that can go wrong is astronomical and unlike a car we can’t just replace a part and make it all good as new… but I don’t think it’s that easy, man. I don’t think it’s that simple, that this is just my body telling me to fucking let it go and if I do all will magically be well again. He did something to me in that match and I don’t know what, but he did.

I haven’t even left the house since I came home from the arena that night, save for my daily trip to the mailbox or to go sit in the backyard with a bear to enjoy the sun. From the minute the docs gave me a grudging all clear - they were unable to find anything that was actually wrong with me, short of the bumps, scraps, cuts and bruises that were bound to happen in a match like the Wonderland match - I’d done nothing but hang around at home, licking my physical and mental wounds and trying to ignore both what happened during that match and the shit that Niamh had dropped on me afterwards too. I was in no place for that shit, bro; I was still way loopy from the match, I’d just had some sort of episode as Dave had called it as he and Lucas helped me home, and that bombshell that Niamh dropped left me with a hollow in the pit of my stomach as well as the pain in my head. I still didn’t want to believe it now if I’m honest, but she said she had plenty of proof that she would show me as soon as I was up to it… the thing is, I hadn’t felt I was up to it yet, and if I could cling to that opinion for the next six months at a minimum, that’d be just perfect. I didn’t have much of a choice though, short of avoiding shit as best I could by not leaving the house. I was supposed to be back at BlackOut for classes by now, but Amy had told me to take the time I needed and jesus fuck I appreciated the hell out of her for that. I guess Niamh was through with being impatient though, because she took the choice away from me when she showed up at my house after trying to wait for me to be ready and deciding I was basically avoiding her.

I opened the door when I’d heard the knock and figured it was just the delivery guy with a package when I first heard that knock. I was waiting on something from Amazon that was supposed to be due today and didn’t even think twice despite my isolation from the outside world where I could help it, so you can imagine the pang of worry that ran through me when I did open the door to find the bottle blonde chick that I was supposed to be mentoring standing there with a laptop bag slung over her shoulder in the skimpiest fucking shorts I’d ever seen. And I work in the wrestling business so I’ve seen skimpy, bro! “You’re an asshole, you know that?!” Niamh said as I peered through the gap in the open door to see her standing with arms folded across her chest, scowling at me. “I get that you had a tough match coach, but come on, you’re just avoiding me now!” she added before pushing the door open so that she could walk in. No, come in, make yourself at home kiddo, mi casa su casa. Jesus. I closed the door behind her and sighed, not caring that she heard me do so as I turned to head back to the kitchen where I had been about to grab myself a beer to go sit in the garden for my daily contemplation and routine of trying to deny that Gio had fucking broken me. “Well?” she asked, as if she’d asked me some sort of question that I was expected to answer…

“Was there even a question in there?” I asked, walking into the kitchen with Niamh following at my heels like an annoying toddler desperate for my attention.

“Where the fuck have you been, Jase?!” she asked as I grabbed myself a beer. I offered her one but she shook her head. I shrugged before closing the refrigerator and popped the cap from my beer to take a drink. “Is that what you’ve been doing? Drinking yourself into oblivion?” she asked, looking at the beer bottle skeptically.

“Oh come on,” I groaned, rolling my eyes. “I’m not a drunk, kiddo. I have one in the afternoon. Maybe two if I’m feeling adventurous. And this is my house Niamh, so try and give me a little respect, huh?!”

“How about you give me some, given I’ve paid thousands of dollars to attend BlackOut and you’re supposed to be my mentor, dude!” she fired back at me, folding her arms in defiance again. Well shit babe, you’ve grown in confidence this past week! “And you say you’re not a drunk but look at you, Jason; you don’t look like you’ve shaved since before the pay per view!”

“I’m not allowed!” I told her, making it up on the spot as I pointed to the stitches on my cheek. Little white lies don’t hurt anyone, right? “Doc’s orders, excused from shaving until the stitches are out… what was I supposed to do, only shave half my face?”

She frowned at that, but obviously I’d won that little skirmish at least, because it was obvious that she couldn’t argue with it. I mean, okay, the doctor hadn’t actually told me not to shave, but I don’t think he’d needed to, it was kind of common sense, right? If you’ve got a fresh wound, you don’t run a razorblade over it. “Alright, so you can’t shave… but that doesn’t excuse the other shit, does it?”

“Amy told me to take some time to heal up, what can I say?” I asked, already growing tired of the attitude. “Was I supposed to turn up and train you while I couldn’t even walk without hobbling? Or how about I do some rolls in the ring to show you guys what I’m talking about when instructing you while these damn headaches leave me unable to stand up straight at times, huh? Is that what you guys want in an instructor?” Evidently scored some points with that, because her shoulders sagged and she started to chew on her bottom lip a little. I decided to let her off the hook though, because I really didn’t want to be involved in an argument at that point, I didn’t know what would kick off another headache. “You drive here?” I asked, and she nodded her head. “Okay, so that explains the no beer. Help yourself to whatever else you want, juice or soda or whatever, we can talk in the yard,” I told her before heading outside, and her footsteps didn’t immediately ring behind me so I guess she’d cooled down enough to actually realise it was pigheaded to just refuse on principle because she was angry. I dropped down onto one of the two sun loungers on the deck as she walked out of the door to join me, a red bull in her hand.

“You have crappy taste dude,” she told me as she sat down on the second lounger, slipping the strap of her laptop bag off her shoulder before cracking open the can. “Red Bull? Really?”

“They were out of Monster, sue me,” I told her, no idea if that was true. Nia had done the grocery shopping and I only specified energy drinks, not which kind. Red Bull was what she got and I didn’t complain. “You calmed down now?” I asked, wishing I’d brought my sunglasses outside with me. I was on my way to grab them when she’d knocked on the door, which obviously slipped my mind when she started chewing me out the minute she stormed in the house, full of piss and vinegar.

“No…” she told me, though it was fairly half-hearted and I knew she didn’t mean it. “Okay, so maybe… you still look rough, and I feel bad for storming in here angry and stuff, but you could have at least responded to some of my texts, Jason. Fair enough, you’re not feeling up to attending classes, but did you have to go dark on us?”

“I don’t even know where my cell is, bro,” I told her, sighing. “I told Dave and Amy that they could use the house number if they actually needed me, and Amy has called a few times over the last few days, but my cell is probably dead by now, I didn’t even put it on charge.”

“But you’ve been on twitter…” she said, confused.

I couldn’t help but laugh. I’m not even that much older than her when you think about it, but it’s like it didn’t even occur to her that someone could tweet from other means but a cell phone. “Laptop,” I told her, trying to hide the amusement that it wasn’t the most logical answer imaginable. “Outdated technology to someone who cares about being trendy like you I’m sure, but I don’t really care if it makes me a dinosaur to be honest…”

“Shut up, ass!” she said and I have no doubt she’d have thrown something at me if she had something that wasn’t valuable. It was obviously a non-point anyway, as she had a laptop bag with her so she clearly had a computer herself but if she was gonna ask dumb questions I was going to point out how dumb they were. “Fitting though,” she said, grabbing the bag. “Listen, can we head back inside? It’s too bright out here and you’re gonna need to be able to see the screen, I’ve got stuff you need to look at and read through on here…”

I let out a sigh before sitting up and swinging one leg over the lounger so that I could plant both feet on the ground; at least the general aches and pains from my match with Gio had worn off at this point, so I wasn’t getting out of a chair like a grandpa anymore. The first couple days were fucking horrid because of that. I nodded my head towards the house and started to head back inside and she fell in line behind me as he walked back through to the hallway. I think she thought I was kicking her out at first because she came to a stop in the doorway to the kitchen but once I turned for the stairs, she realised that wasn’t the case and started to follow me. “The office is probably the best place,” I told her as we started to climb. “Can sit behind the desk and look through stuff properly up here.”

“Works for me,” She said, following me up the last of the stairs and along the landing to my office. “Oh wait. So this is where it happens, huh? Where you film your promos?” she asked, and it hit me that she hadn’t actually been in there before, that this was new to her. In fact, thinking about it, the only people who had been in there other than me were Aniya obviously, Amy and Lucas a few days earlier when he took a look around the joint while I was getting ready to fight Gio. “This is actually a cool moment for me, Jason,” Niamh told me as she walked over to the little x made from duct tape that was stuck on the floor right above where the camera normally stood when I was filming. “Some epic moments took place here, huh? From your promo’s I mean?”

“I guess?” I said with a shrug, not really understanding that for someone on the opposite side of the screen, that it would be kind of cool. You take so much for granted when you’re actually a part of the business I guess. It’s difficult to remember at times how the fans feel about things. “So what is it you want to show me?” I asked, trying to steer the conversation away from my wrestling career. Under normal circumstances I’d have enjoyed the ego rub but all things considered, since Cold Blooded I wasn’t as keen to be reminded of what I do for a living.

Niamh snapped out of her reverie fortunately and walked over to the desk to place her laptop bag down on top of it. “You weren’t really with it when we talked on Sunday,” she explained as she pulled her beaten up old Dell from the bag and put it in front of me, opening the lid and hitting power before she nudged my arms out of the way so she could perch on my leg. Personal space much?! “Okay, so,” she muttered as she typed in her password, that I’m pretty sure was actually ‘Password’ with maybe a number on the end… someone needed to have a serious word with her about security in this day and age, I swear to go. “Strictly speaking, I’m not meant to have any of this stuff simply because of where it came from, but, none of it is really illegal either, because it’s all on public record… well, most of it anyway…” she said and she shot me a grin as she looked sideways at me for a moment before going back to the laptop.

“Most of it?” I asked, and she nodded.

“Some of the stuff is documents that my bro pulled from social services,” she told me as she opened a folder on the desktop named ‘Homework’. I resisted making a joke about not wanting to see her porn collection and just let her get on with it. “Records of your adoptive parents, Dave’s time at the orphanage, that stuff. Again, none of it is really a secret, you knew you were adopted anyway, right? From an early age?” she asked me and I nodded. I did; my parents had told me as soon as I was old enough to understand and I’d looked up my birth parents when I was around thirteen. It’s how I found out about Dave, but I didn’t contact him until I was eighteen. Not really important though, so I didn’t say anything out loud and Niamh was happy to keep going. “None of that stuff really pulled up anything interesting though; there’s Dave’s emancipation,” she said as she clicked on a document and it brought up the legal paperwork from him being declared an adult at sixteen, “and there’s your adoption papers, some other documentation about you going into state care, etc…” she said as she flicked through the images of the scans.

“Alright, I get it,” I said, before frowning. “But this is all stuff I already know, so what am I meant to be actually looking at?” I asked her, wanting to get to the point. I was already starting to get uncomfortable with her sitting on my knee and the sooner this was over the better.

“Well, this stuff I’ve just shown you,” she said, gesturing to the computer screen with a wave of her hand, “is the stuff that could be a little problematic for me to have copies of, because these things are usually sealed papers, you know?” she asked and I nodded. “But the rest of the stuff is all public record… but I had to bring up the adoption stuff but it kind of confirms the stuff Petey found out. Look here,” she told me before leaning forward to zoom in on the document relating to me and Dave both going into care after our folks died. “This bit here, about next of kin? It shows that next of kin was contacted, but the response was negative… I think that means that they basically refused to take you both in, but it doesn’t really explain any of that. I’ve gone through all over this stuff and can’t find any sort of explanation… just that it was a rejection. It does show the name of the next of kin though, which is the important part. See? Right there… Fransesca Rossi, maternal sibling…”

So it was true. All of it. Everything Niamh had told me at the arena on the night of Cold Blooded had been right, Gio really was related to us. I’d been holding out hope that it was a trick, or that her brother was just really fucking incompetent at his job or somethoing, but there it was in black and white on the screen in front of me. But… well, actually no, maybe it wasn’t… “Sorry doll, but only proves mom had a sister that was a douche who didn’t want to look after her nephews,” I pointed out, hoping that I’d found a loophole in Niamh’s argument. “Doesn’t make Gio our cousin though, does it?”

“Actually, you’re right,” She said, closing the image of the scanned document before scrolling down the files in the folder she was showing me to a second folder named ‘Tree’. “But the stuff in this one does… I’m sorry coach, I know you don’t want it to be true, but… just look,” she said, before clicking on the first document in the tree folder. It was mom’s proof of name change documents, Grazia Rossi to Grace Rossi.

“Again, that only proves--” I started to say but Niamh shook her head and tapped the right arrow key and it moved to the next document. Mom’s birth certificate. Then the next, this Fransesca Rossi’s certificate. Okay, so again, that only proved that mom had a sister, who turned out to be a huge douche when asked to help her family. It didn’t prove anything else. “Still don’t see it,” I told Niamh, wondering when she was gonna get to the point. She clicked the right arrow button again and the next document was a marriage license. Alessandro Aries and Fransesca Rossi. Fuck. Fuck. And the next document… a birth certificate… Giovanni Aries, born to Fransesca & Alessandro Aries, May eighth, nineteen ninety one. “FUCK!” I growled before looking away from the computer screen; it was right there, right on that beaten up Dell, undeniable proof that Gio was fucking related to me. To me and Dave. Dom too really, though I guess he got away lightly if he really wanted, because we didn’t share a mom, just our dad. Jesus fucking Christ…

Niamh reached out and closed the lid of the laptop before spinning around so that she was facing me instead. My eyes were locked on the wall to my left, where all the wrestling photos and stuff were hung. My eyes didn’t leave the photo of The Wonderland that still hung there despite everything that had happened in the last month and change: Me, Gio, Beard and Levi, the four of us on the stage at some show or other, wearing those Wonderland Club shirts. Much as I thought Gio was a dick with ears these days, I hadn’t had the heart to remove the photo because it was a fun point in my career back then… now I wanted to fucking smash it. To burn the photo and piss on the ashes. The nails of my left hand dug into the skin of my leg through my shorts, biting into the skin and I thought I may have made myself bleed but I didn’t look. “I’m sorry Jason,” Niamh said in a voice so hushed that it was barely louder than a whisper and I had to force myself to look away from the wall of photographs to look back at her; my fingers retracted the second I looked away from the wall, as if the photo was making them dig into the skin on my leg. I couldn’t speak though, it was all still too much, despite the fact that we were now several days removed from the show. I couldn’t deal with this. “I don’t want to make your life difficult, I didn’t want to drop this on you, but… well, you did ask for Petey to do this, and… I couldn’t keep it from you Jason, I couldn’t do that…”

“I don’t hold anything against you kiddo,” I told her, even if my voice was more monotonous than I’d intended it to be originally. I didn’t actually blame her for anything, she had only done what I’d asked her to. It wasn’t her fault that I didn’t like the answers that came back, was it?! “Really, I don’t…”

I’d managed to actually sound a little less robotic at the second attempt, and she bit her lip nervously as she looked at me. “You don’t?” She asked me, sounding scared now. Fuck, now I was upsetting her; way to go Jason, you fucking idiot. I shook my head quickly, hoping it would help convince her.

“You haven’t done anything wrong Niamh, nothing at all,” I reassured her, hoping to hell that I actually sounded more like my regular self now. I didn’t feel like myself, not by a god damn longshot. I haven’t felt normal since Cold Blooded, and now it was as if I was looking at myself from the outside, rather than being me, but I hoped that was something that would pass with the coming days. Maybe this was a crisis of faith? People have those in the business, right? Question whether they’re actually good enough or if they can do whatever it is they’re trying to do? Maybe this is mine. I’m questioning whether I have it in me to be the Jason Helms of twenty eighteen after the injury… that has to be it, right?

Niamh let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god,” she told me, smiling nervously as she put a hand on my chest. “I was so nervous, worried you’d hate me or… I dunno… I just hate the idea of you being angry with me or disappointed…” she told me, biting her lip again.

I shook my head. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, doll,” I reaffirmed. “This wasn’t your fault, you did as I asked you and it’s on me. Don’t worry, I don’t hate you. Anything but.” I added, hoping it would give her a bit of confidence if she thought that I was definitely behind her all the way. Unfortunately, I think it worked too well. She looked me in the eyes, her gaze flicking down to my mouth for a moment before back up and then the next thing I know, her lips are planted on mine as her hand is on my face. And for a microsecond, I actually moved an arm as if it was going to go to the small of her back, but I caught myself and pulled my head away, holding my hands up. “Woah… wooooooah, hold up…” I said, as I pushed my chair backwards and it rolled on the wheels, causing Niamh to have to stand up or fall off.

“Oh my god, I… I’m…” she stammered, her eyes wide in fear and shock, she looked horrified. “I… I... “ she continued to babble, obviously trying to find the words that didn’t want to come. I wasn’t exactly in much better a place in all honesty, but I pulled myself together a lot better than she clearly could.

“Sorry Niamh, that isn’t going to happen,” I told her sternly, but I tried to be as friendly with the rejection as I could, because I knew all too well that doing something so fucking stupid as going there would be a horrible idea, even without taking into consideration the fact that she was a student and my protege. “It’s fine, don’t worry,” I added, because I could see her freaking the fuck out and her cheeks were as red as a fire hydrant as she didn’t know where to look.

“I shouldn’t have… I should... “ she said, turning to grab her laptop, trying to stuff it into it’s bag, but she was so flustered that she couldn’t get the thing inside and she dropped both in frustration before slamming her hands on the edge of my desk as her head hung low.

I stood up and walked towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder and feeling her body tense up under my touch within a microsecond. “Hey, come on, don’t be an idiot alright?” I told her, sliding the computer back out of the bag to put it where it was beforehand. I used the same hand to lift her head with a finger under her chin, basically forcing her to look up at me. “You misread the situation, alright? No harm, no foul. We’re both adults, it’s fine,” I told her, managing to forget, at least for a moment, all the shit that was rushing through my head until the point she kissed me. “But that can’t happen, you know that, right?”

She nodded, her blonde hair falling in front of her eyes before she brushed it back behind her ear again. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, trying to look away again, but I nudged her foot with my own and she looked back at me.

“Nothing to apologise for kiddo,” I said, flashing her a grin that was mostly fake but I’d like to think at least a little bit of truth shone through, because she smiled weakly back at me. “Let’s say no more about it, alright? Heat of the moment, mistakes made and shit, but it’s done with,” I said and she nodded, her smile growing a little. “Alright, I need you to do me a favour.”

“What’s that?” she asked, suddenly looking unsure again. I don’t even want to know what she thought I was going to ask her to do, I’ve seen way too much porn over the years for my imagination to go there.

“I need you to email all that stuff to me,” I told her, pointing at the computer. “I can’t ignore it anymore, not now i’ve seen it for my own eyes… which means I have some things I need to do. But I need a copy of it all before I can start dealing with it. Can you do that?”

“Don’t have to, coach!” she said, relief in her voice, as she turned to her computer bag and unzipped the pocket on the front to pull out a flash drive, which she held out to me. “There’s a copy of everything on here… figured you’d ask, so I planned ahead.”

Grinning, I took the drive from her and tossed it in the air before catching it again. “You’re a star, kiddo!” I told her, watching as she brightened, thankfully. “Alright, come on. I think it’s time I actually went out of the house properly… can you give me a right into the city?” I asked, and she thought for a moment before nodding. “And to sweeten the deal, we can hit up the Starbucks drive thru on the way. My treat.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure I wanted you in my car at first… but you sold me with the Starbucks.” she told me with a cheeky grin and I had to stop myself from blurting out the first thing that came to mind: I’m not sure saying that she wanted me inside something else a moment ago was the best thing for either of us, so I avoided it entirely.

“I guess I am a bit of a mess right now,” I admitted, leaning in to sniff under my armpit discreetly, before wrinkling up my nose. “Alright, slight addition to the plan; I’m gonna try and make myself at least a little more presentable. Then I’ll need a lift into the City. I have to go talk to Nia and Amy and then I’ve got to take a trip. Starbucks is still on me though, don’t worry…” I told her and she nodded. She packed up her laptop and followed me out of the office; I motioned for her to head downstairs before turning to head to mine and Nia’s bedroom so I could get changed. I made sure to lock the door behind me, didn’t want to risk any more awkwardness for one day if I could help it. With everything on that flash drive, with undeniable proof that everything Niamh had told me was right, I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer… I had to go and talk to Dave. Christ knows how he was gonna react… I just hoped that he’d have some sort of fucking clue how we handled it. Because despite the fact I now had some sort of normality returning in that I had some motivation to actually get out of the house and try and deal with this, I had no idea how we’d go about doing that. Big Brother… it’s time to step up as the head of the family. Because your little bro hasn’t got a fucking clue and he needs your help. Fuck, that hurts to admit…

Helms Household
Hollywood Hills, California
Several hours later...

Despite the fact that Nia and I still owned a house out here and that the bar we owned was located in one of the busiest night spots in the city, there was always something weird about going back to California. Which is weird in it’s self really, because when we moved there from our previous city, it was supposed to be the end game as far as moving was concerned. This was meant to be where we set down our roots and truly settled… but it didn’t feel that way now. Maybe it was the bad blood that existed for a while after the story of me and Amy came out, but it felt alien to let myself into the house we owned next door to Dave, Regan and little Jay. It was a real family affair too, when you added in the fact that AJ, Scarlett and Elysia lived in the guest house at Dave’s place and next door to them was Regan’s brother, or half brother I guess, Dylan. All we needed was for Jenni to move in with Owen and maybe Dom to shift from being on the beach to the hills and the Helms Dynasty would rule the neighbourhood… for whatever brief moments we were all in town at the same time anyway. At least the cleaner had still been coming in while we weren’t living there, because the place was spotless when I did let myself in the door and shut off the alarm. I’d picked up a few bits at the store to tide me over for the night, a small carton of milk, coffee, a few beers, the usual stuff, because I knew that the fridge wouldn’t be stocked. Didn’t need food, the freezer would have stuff in and I could always order takeout anyway, it was only for one night, right?

The plane was probably halfway over New Mexico when the first thoughts of doubt started to fill my head; had I jumped the gun by booking myself on the first available flight to LAX out of Louis Armstrong International? That name kills me every fucking time by the way… dunno why, it’s not worse than John Lennon International in the UK, but it just cracks me up bro. But not the point. I started to doubt whether I’d fucked up by decided to just act on a whim and head back to California; Aniya tried to talk me out of it, told me that I should call Dave first and tell him I needed to come talk to him, give him some notice so that he at least knew I was on my way, but of course in my infinite wisdom I told her that I’d just wait until he had the time if it wasn’t convenient when I first got into town. Not like I had anywhere else to be, what with the pay per view break and all, so if Dave wasn’t free that night, I could wait. Then again, something told me that he’d be more than willing to meet up with me at the drop of a hat given the state I was in after Cold Blooded. From what Amy told me, that’s the most scared she’s ever seen Dave, but honestly, I didn’t remember much of it. Not from when I first came around anyway, that was still hazy. I kind of remember some of the stuff after, when I came to my senses, but a lot of it is still blank… which still troubles me to be honest, but there isn’t much I can really do about it, is there? Besides, from listening to Amy and Dave, Lucas and Niamh, I kind of pieced it together anyway, even if I didn’t remember it myself persay, and their concurring accounts of what happened all fit together so it’s not like I had any reason not to just take it as gospel… unless this was all some huge ass Lizard King conspiracy to pull the wool over my eyes and they were all in on it, anyway…

...did I just fucking say that?!

Ugh. See, this is the kind of shit that I need to get past. The fucked up thoughts and weird shit that runs through my mind. That initial burst of being sure about what I had to do with the info Niamh’s brother had found helped everything make sense for a while, but as the doubts crept in mid-flight, it was like my energy was draining again. By the time I stepped into our place in the hills, I was wondering if I should just book a return flight back for the following morning and put it all off. But I’m a stubborn bastard at the best of times, so you can imagine how stubborn I am during the worst of them, so I dropped Dave a text telling him I was in town and to swing by when he had a minute, and that he may want to bring a bottle of Infamously Dangerous with him when he did. He must have known that something was up, because it can’t have been an hour later that he did exactly that, with a plate of pasta too, leftover from their dinner I guessed. “Regan said I should bring this over, save you from having to order takeout which I know you were probably planning on doing, and it stops it going to waste,” he said as he handed me the plate once I’d opened the kitchen door to greet him. “And I brought this too, because you said we were gonna need it… that doesn’t exactly bode well, bro. What’s going on?” he asked and I just stepped back to let him in before closing the door again. The layout of the houses in the area, it was difficult to access the property from front or back because of the walls and gates, but the walls between the properties - unless added to - were small enough that you could just hop over them into the next yard along. It had been a nice convenient arrangement when me and Nia still lived there because I could hop over the wall and be at their door in seconds instead of having to mess around with the gates and buzzing in.

“Looks good,” I said, putting the plate down on the side, not touching the plastic wrap. “I’ll warm it up later...”

“If we’re drinking this, you should probably think about eating now,” Dave said, raising the bottle of rum up that he still held in his hand. “Though depending on what’s going on, I might insist the bottle stays sealed… so what the deal? Is it something to do with what happened to you during that match? Whatever it is, I’m here to help where I can,” he told me. No chit chat, no how you doing bro, just down to it. To be honest though, I kind of appreciated it; he already knew how I was doing, because I knew for a fact that Nia was sending him updates every day anyway and with what we had to talk about, I didn’t want us to spend an hour bullshitting and talking then suddenly drop the bombshell on him that Niamh had dropped on me.

I grabbed a couple tin mugs from the cupboard and gestured for him to follow me into the lounge where I’d left my laptop set up with the flash drive plugged in; I know there was no guarantee that he was planning on coming over straight away, but I’d been slowly working my way through everything on the drive anyway, reading or looking at each document in turn to get accustomed with everything. Not that it wasn’t all there in black and white, but if I was gonna know the facts I wanted to be sure about all of them. “I didn’t know if you’d come tonight or tomorrow,” I told Dave as I took a seat on the couch in front of the computer and he went to grab one in one of the chairs but I stopped him. “Nah bro, I need you to sit over here,” I said, gesturing to the couch. “Believe me, I don’t wanna get that close to you either, but there’s something I need to show you and it’s easier to keep this thing on the coffee table…” I explained and he shrugged before sitting next to me, leaning forward on his knees. “Look, I’m not going to go through it all, because you’ll only have questions anyway. Believe me, I did. Questions, objections, denial, anger, all of that bullshit… so what I’ve done is basically order everything in numerical order, so just look at each thing and then we can talk when you’re done,” I told him. That’s what I’d done on the plane, basically. I’d gone through every file and ordered it in the order I thought that Dave should look at them, until they were all ordered numerically.

He looked at me like I was talking Dutch or something. “Alright Jase, what the fucks going on here, huh? I mean, I’m all for catching up or listening to you get stuff of your chest but this cryptic shit is going a bit far, isn’t it?” he said but I shook my head.

“If I explain, you’re gonna ask questions or want to see proof and then I’m gonna end up showing you things anyway, but out of order,” I told him before leaning forward to hit the spacebar, cancelling the screensaver so that the desktop appeared again. I opened the folder that all the documents were in on the desktop and just sat back to point at it. “So like I said, read through it all and then we can talk, alright?”

His brow wrinkled way more than normal as he frowned, deep creases appearing on his brow bone as he looked at me skeptically before sighing and doing as I’d asked. He double clicked on the first file and he continued leaning forward on his knees as he read. He was sitting up a little straighter by the time he clicked to the second. By the third he’d picked up the computer and had it on his lap as he read through. I’d already uncorked the bottle of rum and poured two measured into the tin cups as he opened the fourth and he took it from me silently and drained it in one as he continued to read. We sat in silence for what was probably around five minutes until he hit the document I was waiting for. “ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME?!” he yelled, turning from the laptop screen to me, his eyes wide in disbelief as he struggled to comprehend what he’d read before going back to the documents. He motioned with his hand that he wanted another drink without even looking away from the computer and I played the pat of bartender, filling his mug again for him to do the exact same again, straight down the hatch. This time I topped him back up right away and he sipped at this one, before going through the remaining documents. He was actually calm by the time he put the laptop down on the table again, and he stood up, actually grinning. “Good one dude, you almost had me,” he said, chuckling to himself. “Pretty elaborate prank to play, flying all the way out here just to wind me up, but I’m guessing there’s something with the bar that needs dealing with and you’re making the most of it? Is Aniya here? Is she filming my reaction? Come out doll, you got me, well done,” he shouted to the house at large, but I just shook my head.

“Nia’s in Louisiana, bro…” I told him, completely understanding how he felt. I wasn’t in the right place to jump to the conclusion that it was all a joke when I’d found out, I was too exhausted for that, but I definitely understood the desire to think it was one. “She’s not here and Dave, I’m not joking. I promise you, on mom and dad’s grave, I promise you that it isn’t a joke…”

The smile melted from his face. Seriously, his features fucking drooped, it literally looked like the expression on his face had melted off. “You’re serious?!” he asked, shocked. “Where the fuck did you get all of this stuff?! Jesus dude, birth certificates, marriage licenses… I mean, your adoption papers I get, but stuff about us going into care?” he asked, as if that was the most out there part of the whole thing.

“That’s what you pick up on?!” I asked in disbelief. “Jesus Dave, talk about getting hung up on the important things… what about the fact that we have an aunt? Or the fact that it’s Gio’s fucking mother?!” I asked, glaring at him… and I swear to god, his face filled with guilt as I said that. I won’t lie, a wave of confusion washed over me, mostly because my head still isn’t on straight yet after Cold Blooded, but slowly but surely I made the connection. “YOU KNEW?!”

He threw his hands up defensively. “Hold up, hold up,” He told me, trying to calm me down as he waved his arms in a ‘calm down’ sort of gesture. “Look, I have no fucking clue that Gio was related to us okay, let me get that out there right now… I’m as fucking blown away as you are bro, believe me. It kind of makes me feel a little sick, I actually feel like I’m gonna throw up into my own mouth maybe,” he says, swallowing theatrically. “But the fact we have an aunt? I did know about that, yeah…”

“What the fuck bro?!” I blurted out, angry that he knew that all along and didn’t think to mention it to me at any point. I mean, who the fuck does that?! “You knew and you didn’t tell me?! You selfish douche nozzle!”

“And for good reason,” he told me, which I admit, kind of cut me off in my tracks a little. For good reason? What the hell did that even mean?! What sort of fucking reason could he have for not wanting to tell me that we actually had more family instead of letting me think they were all dead and it was just me, him and the half-brother who barely tolerates me?! Okay, that’s unfair; there’s obviously Regan, Nia, Jay, Aaron and Jenni too, but you know what I mean… and yeah, I felt a little guilty for not thinking of the whole family at first, but we’re the Helms boys, Donald’s kids, me and Dave are Grace’s… so to find out he knew about Fransesca?! What the fuck man!?

“The hell do you mean for good reason?!” I asked, frowning.

He needed to explain because I wasn’t sure if throttling him or punching him was the right reaction in that moment, but they were the only two options if he didn’t actually get on with it. He sighed and walked over to grab the bottle of Infamously Dangerous to top his mug up before taking a big gulp of it. “I’m older than you, dude...” he said, turning to walk to the big picture window at the front of the house. “I haven’t met her if that’s what you think. But I remember seeing photos as a kid, that mom had in an album. Probably still have them somewhere… remember asking who the lady in the photo was, and mom explaining it was someone she doesn’t talk to anymore. I actually spoke to her on the phone probably a decade and a half ago, maybe longer… she told me she wasn’t interested so I left it at that.”

What the actual fuck?! He’d already spoken with her?! How in the hell did he come to the conclusion that that wasn’t something I needed to know when we were getting to know one another all over again?! I felt betrayed by him, bro, I’m not gonna hide that! “And she didn’t happen to mention the fact that she has a son in the same damn business as you?!” I asked, dumbstruck that she wouldn’t even think to mention that.

“We didn’t exactly shoot the shit and play catch up, bro!” he told me, sounding frustrated. “I introduced myself, explained why I was calling and told her I wondered if she’d like to meet so we could get to know one another,” he said, walking over to the couch chair to take a seat. “Do you know what she said? She told me she didn’t have any interest in getting to know her sisters children and asked me not to call her again. She hung up on my, I had to call back just to get any sort of explanation…”

“And how did she explain herself?” I asked, still dumbfounded that he knew we had family and didn’t bother to look up if she had one!

“She said she had stopped talking to mom for a reason, and that any offspring that she had with our dad only further proved her point all those years ago,” he explained, shaking his head. “Turns out our grandparents didn’t agree with mom’s choice of partner, they didn’t like that mom had fallen for someone who wasn’t Italian like them, so mom was basically disowned by them. They’d passed on, but mom’s sister, this… what was it, Francheska?”

“Fransesca,” I corrected him and he nodded, snapping his fingers and pointing at me.

“Yeah, that one,” he said, still nodding. “It turns out she shared our grandparents’ opinion and mom’s passing hadn’t softened her position one iota. Said she was sorry that my parents were dead because she didn’t wish death on anyone, but her position remained unchanged and thanked me to never call her again before hanging up a second time. I decided fuck her there and then on the spot. She clearly wasn’t worth my time…”

Okay, so I guess that kind of explained why it wasn’t brought up that she had a son that wrestled… but surely he did more than just get the phone number and call?! “Okay, so you didn’t chit chat. I get it. But how the fuck did you not find out everything you could about here, bro?! Surely if you knew her name, you’d have found out more than just her number?!”

“Dude, I got her number from a care home!” he protested, looking genuinely frustrated but there was something else in his eyes too. He seemed upset, maybe. I think it was sadness anyway. I suddenly felt bad myself for pushing the way I was… which was fucked up because I felt like I had every justification to be angry yet there I was, feeling guilty for pissing Dave off regardless. “It was years ago now dude, I’m not even sure how much I’m remembering right, you know? I was going through some stuff, it was not long after you’d disappeared, Kath left me because she couldn’t deal with the depression I was in anymore, I was a mess,” he told me, looking at the floor between his legs now, cradling the mug between his hands. “I didn’t know what happened when we went into care, whether we had family or not, but I wanted to look up if I had anyone, and I managed to track down the info about a care home that our gran had been in. She’d long passed, but I managed to convince the guy I spoke with to give me the number of her next of kin from their files. It was Fransesca, listed as her daughter. It blew me away at the time, but after she rejected the idea of wanting to know me I kind of pushed her out of my mind… I’m sorry bro, I really am. I just literally forgot about it because I didn’t think she deserved to be remembered,” he added, looking at me and I saw his eyes were glassy as he held back the tears that were evidently fighting to break from the corners of his eyes.

I started to feel like shit seeing him in the state he was in; hearing him describe what he’d gone through, knowing that it was right after I disappeared and already knowing how much of a douche I’d been with all of that stuff, I instantly felt like the biggest asshole in the world, not gonna lie. I sat down on the couch across from him and let out a deep sigh, trying to figure out how best to apologise for being the colossal ass-hat I’d been, but I don’t think the perfect words truly existed. “I’m sorry bro,” I said instead, keeping it simple. “I shouldn’t be pointing fingers here, I know that. I’m lucky you even speak to me these days, I have no right to go off on you the way I just did…” I told him, hoping he knew I meant every word. Where Dave was concerned, I was in no position to judge, not after how I’d behaved over the years, and I hope he knew that. “If she’s as big a bitch as you say, then fuck her, she doesn’t deserve to know any of us… but what about--”

“What about Gio?” he asked, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the tin mug tightly between his hands at the mention of Aries. “Mostly, I want to know what the fuck he did to you during that match… no offence Jase, but you’re still not you’re usual self yet. I want him to answer some fucking questions, that’s what I want him to do…”

“You are me both man,” I admitted, wishing to any of the gods Amy believed in that I’d get some answers sooner rather than later, because I was getting seriously fed up of the random migraines that came out of nowhere and ended just as soon. “But we still need to decide what to do about all this bullshit,” I said, motioning to the computer. “There’s no love lost between me and Aries, I can say that… last weekend, I wouldn’t have taken a piss on him if he was on fire, and I’m not sure I’d change my stance knowing what I do now… but I can’t shake the notion that he at least deserves to know the truth. He’s a dick… but I’d rather he be a dick who was given the option to deal with the truth than a dick who had the truth kept from him, you know?”

Dave sat there silent for several seconds, just looking at me; I don’t know what he was looking for, but he was clearly weighing something up in his mind, trying to make some sort of decision. Eventually, he finished his drink and placed the mug back down on the coffee table and sat forward. “I’m gonna leave it up to you,” he told me, thoughtfully. “Right now, personally, I’d love nothing more than to bend a chair over his skull, him and those fucking assholes he has following him around everywhere… but despite that, if you decide we should tell him, then I’ll go ahead with whatever you choose. Your call bro, I’m going with your judgement on this one…”

I sat there, looking at the computer as I tried to figure out what I thought we should do. If I didn’t know better, I’d have been convinced that he just wanted to leave the burden of decision making on my shoulders… but the way he’d said it, and knowing my big bro, I knew that wasn’t the case. This was him saying that he didn’t think we should tell Gio, that we should let the bastard rot and pretend we’d never found out, even if I’d not even explained how that had happened yet, and go on about our lives as if nothing had happened… but that it I wanted to tell him then he’d support the decision. It was him basically supporting me in that moment. And I appreciated that to no end, regardless of how angry I may have been with him just a few minutes earlier. “I think he should know…” I said after thinking it over. “We tell him… and if he wants to continue acting like an asshole once he knows, that’s on him. But at least we have a clear conscience going forward…”

David started to nod, before shrugging. “Then we’ll tell him I guess… and whatever happens, happens.” he said, grabbing his empty mug and filling it with another finger of rum. He held the mug up and I held my own up.

“Whatever happens, happens,” I echoed, and we both drank to the idea, decisions now made. If Gio wanted to carry on being a douche canoe, that was entirely down to him. I wasn’t about to beg him to change who he was and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to change who I was either… but I did think he had a right to know. What he did with it was on him. Who knows, maybe I’d still want to punch his teeth in afterwards, I probably would want to… but it was right that the truth was out there at least, even if he wasn’t someone that dealt in reality for the most part. I spent another twenty minutes filling Dave in about Niamh and how I’d got all of the documents I had, explaining about her brother Petey and his job working in Washington. He obviously said I should probably think about getting rid of it all as soon as possible, once Gio had been told anyway, and I think we agreed there. Last thing I wanted was for this government guy to get in trouble because I had shit that I shouldn’t be in possession of and I promised to delete it when I had the chance. I actually did warm up the leftovers he’d brought over once Dave left, I had an appetite and we hadn’t drank too much of the rum all things considered. I had one beer with dinner and washed up after myself before heading upstairs; I’d promised to call Nia before heading to bed and truthfully, I was bushed from the travelling and the emotional bullshit ride I’d taken mentally over the past twenty four hours. With goodnights said, I crashed early and slept surprisingly well. Maybe the chicken soup for the soul bullshit approach was good for you when you actually took it seriously? Or maybe it was just the fucked up headspace I was in after Cold Blooded. Maybe normal service would resume soon enough. Only time would tell with that one I guess.