A/N: All credit for this idea goes to Gabriel (RavensEnigma), even though she has no idea that she helped! Yay! Jericho muse woke up after I read the latest chapter of "Possession" and threatened to pinch my nipple if I didn't write another scene like that of Gabriel's latest. I guess he's being angsty today.



Monday night RAW. The biggest show on Spike TV and in WWE. It drew the largest crowds and pulled the highest ratings. And tonight it was only going to get better, but at the same time get horribly worse. The Highlight of the Night had big plans for this show. He was going to give the audience exactly what they'd been waiting for. An end to the soap opera.

In the main arena were thousands of screaming fans. It was brightly lit and all eyes focused on the square circle in the center. This was where all the best action took place. And it was all about to begin with the first match of the night. A women's tag match of Trish Stratus and Victoria against Molly Holly and Jazz. The women had all made their entrances and Trish and Molly were ready to go. Everyone was fired up for a great match when suddenly a familiar voice came through the stadium.

"Alright, hold up hold up. Before we start clawing and tearing hair… Oh, I have no picture." There was a pause and suddenly Jericho's face appeared on the Titantron, extremely close to the camera. "There it's a little better without the lens cap. So here I am again, ladies and gentlemen. Chris Jericho, King of the World, Highlight of the Night… Eh, you get the point. Here I am again to make a complete ass out of myself for the sake of love. I don't think I've ever humiliated myself this many times in succession before. But let me give you a brief overview of how things are gonna work tonight."

Jericho reached over and picked up the camera he'd been speaking to, adjusting it some to pan around the room. It was filled with shiny clothing and various bags, towels, blow dryers, and more distinctly a bra or two lying around. He was obviously in the women's locker room.

"I'm sure you ladies all recognize where I am back here. Yep, I'm in the forbidden zone. The undiscovered country known as female central. Most would think a guy would be in here for perverted reasons right? Well, not the case. I'm just here to go through a few things and then to get to my point of the evening. First off, let's start by looking at a few of Trish's belongings." Jericho had to pause to adjust his camera as it was slipping from his shoulder, then grabbed a Chris Jericho action figure from the shelf. "Let's start with this little guy up here. He's kinda dusty. Looks kinda upset doesn't he?" He paused to move the figure back and forth towards the camera. "Yeah, I'd say he feels as unwanted and unloved as I do most of the time. So let's just put this poor guy out of his misery."

With that the figure went flying to who knew where. Next came a familiar white hockey jersey which he held up so that the name 'Jericho' could be seen on the back.

"This I love most of all. This could've been the best gift I ever got. Ya know if you had just handed me this you would've known instantly how I felt for you. I would've blasted Jay square in the face and then turned around and kissed you for all you were worth. But instead of confronting me in private and talking about everything like a civilized woman, you had to be a bitch and drag everything into public view. So this jersey has no meaning what so ever. It can die as well."

The shirt was thrown into a nearby trash can quite violently. Chris even put forth the effort of shoving his foot down into the can after it and stomping a few times for good measure. Then he headed towards the large mirrored counter that lined one wall where the girls did their hair and make up. He cleared a spot with a sweep of his arm and then set the camera back down to face him, pulling a chair out to straddle it backwards and lean on it's back. He stared into the camera for a brief moment without saying a word, letting his feelings be known by the miserable expression on his face.

"One last thing and then we'll get on with my show. I'm sure you can't wait to see what I have planned tonight. This is going to be the best Highlight Reel ever!" He reached behind himself and pulled something out of his pocket. "Remember this box, Trish? The Christmas present I bought for you just to try to say I was sorry and at least settle some sort of peace between us. The one that you threw back in my face because I broke that heart you claim to have! Well, let me show you something, Trish. Let me show you exactly how much you mean to me in material worth since I've already shown you that I would put my body and life on the line for you because of the horrible beatings I've endured for you. Since you didn't care to see me mauled in the ring maybe this will get your damn attention." Chris tore the paper off of the box and then opened it, pulling a diamond necklace from inside that sparkled like nobody's business. "This is what I got for you, Trish. This is how much you're worth to me as far as money is concerned. This took away three of my paychecks! This is custom made just for you. There's not another necklace in all the world that looks like this. It's beautiful. It's radiant. It sparkles. It's priceless. And it's the only one of it's kind. Just like you, Trish. Exactly like you. But you didn't want it. You didn't want this gorgeous treasure because it came from me. Because I had it made for you out of love. So ya know what? It can die, too."

Jericho grasped the necklace in both hands and pulled as hard as he could. The necklace snapped and diamonds flew everywhere, sparkling in the light as they rained down on the floor. Next Jericho reached into his shirt pocket, pulling out a little plastic container that he didn't let stay on camera long.

"So that's it for all of that nonsense. Now let's get on with things. Just so all of you know, not only am I in the girl's locker room with my own personal camera and tap into the show's main feed, but I have also taken considerable effort in making sure that all entrances to this room are secure. There's no way anyone can get in. Also, I have a monitor set up right over there so I can see where you are, Trish. Still standing around in the ring." He waved with a faked smile. "Now here's the deal, my beloved. I'm going to finally find out if you love me or not. You've sent a lot of mixed signals lately with helping me out in the ring, but you still act like a total fucking bitch to my face. So I'm gonna play a little game, beloved. Let me explain the rules."

Jericho pulled something from the plastic container and held it close to the camera so it could be seen. The light glinted off of the metal in the shape of an Exacto knife blade, minus the handle. It was small, but sharper than an average razor blade.

"What's going to happen, Trish, is that I'm going to take this blade and tear it through the skin on my wrists. I'm not faking here either. Believe me you'll be able to tell by the amount of blood I'm going to lose. I'm gonna slit my wrists really good and deep. Then I'm going to watch that monitor over there and see if you come to my aid. If you don't really love me, Trish, then don't bother trying to be a heroine. I'd rather you simply stood and watched as you kill me. On the other hand, if you suddenly realize all of the pain that I feel that you caused and how I got my heart broke too… Then I'll unlock the door for you and you can save me before it's too late. Are you ready to play? Cuz I feel like I've waited long enough for love. I'm tired of searching for someone who truly loves me. I'm going to find out once and for all who really loves Chris Jericho."

Jericho held out his arm so it could be seen perfectly by the camera. He took a couple deep breaths, obviously worried and scared of what he was about to do. He squeezed his eyes shut and stabbed the blade into his skin. He bit back the sound that wanted to come from him at first. Then he looked down at his arm for a moment, tears of pain coursing over his cheeks already, and forced himself to pull the blade up from his wrist. He couldn't hold back the scream of agony that tore from his throat. His trembling hand dropped the blade to the floor, clutching at his arm as the blood poured like a river of red. He slowly looked over at the monitor to see Trish still standing in the middle of the ring. She looked shocked and worried, but was making no moves to come to him.

"Didn't think I'd do it huh? Did you think it'd be a fake bleeding knife or something? No, my beloved Trish, this is all very real." He paused to try to catch his breath. "The pain is so much that my vision went fuzzy. Let's see if the arm still works." He flexed his wrist back and forth and moved his fingers, then raised his arm to watch it pour over his legs. He leaned his head back and let the blood drench his chest before looking over at the monitor and then back at the camera. "Ya know you don't have much time, Trish. It doesn't take long to pass out from-"

Just then there was banging at the door. A muffled voice called through it in between the hard knocks, but it was difficult to make out who it was. Chris only smiled.

"Heh, we have such great security. Look at them bust that door down. Feh. They can't do it. No one can break the walls down!" he cried with a harsh laugh, but then put his unbloodied hand to his head. "Oh… Dizziness is starting to set in. I guess I better… Wait, what was I planning to do anyway?" He looked up at the monitor again. "Trish, you fucking whore… You're not coming are you? Don't you smile and shake your head at me! Don't you realize what you've done? You've killed me. My death is on your-"

He was cut off yet again by a thud from the door. Whoever was outside was desperate to get in. It only served to agitate Chris more and he stood from his chair, waving at the door with his sliced open arm as he yelled for them to give up. The blood splattered everywhere. His anger caused his blood to rush even faster from his body. He staggered slightly, hands going to his head, but down he went knocking his chair over. He collapsed to the floor in a heap and his cheek came to rest in a puddle of his own blood. He stared for a moment at the sideways turned world before he heard a sudden rush of noise. Then a voice, screaming in panic, echoed through the room. He felt hands grab at him frantically and shake him, pulling him back up to a sitting position only for him to fall against a warm and familiar body. He gave a soft whimper at the feeling. He knew who this was, but his vision was going dark.

"Chris! Chris, open your eyes! Dear God, Chris, why did you do this? I told you she didn't love you! I do! I love you, Chris!"

The screams broke into sobs as the person clutched him tightly to their chest, their hands petting over his damp and bloody hair in the most soothing way. He knew this feeling. He knew this body. He knew that voice and the sobs that tore it in two.

"Chris…tian…" he managed to barely whisper.

Then the world slipped away. The blackness overtook him and pulled him down into a place that was cold and empty. He could faintly hear things, but other than that there was nothing. Forever and forever nothing. It was peaceful. It was a relief. At last he could feel at ease.

There was a flash of white light over him, and he squinted against it. He was lying on something flat. He was chilled to the bone. He could feel hands upon him, and something that felt like plastic tubing running across his chest. There was a mask over part of his face and it made his breath hot and steamy. He tried to raise his hand to push it off, but was restrained by a tight grip. He tried with the other arm instead. Pain ripped through him and he screamed.

But it echoed away and he found himself in the dark again. He sighed with contentment. He hoped to just stay here from now on. It was quiet and dark, the perfect place to sleep. Sleeping while floating weightless. It seemed a blissful thought.

"Chris?"

Now who was bugging him? He grunted and turned away from the sound, but it echoed through his mind with a desperate pleading sound that melted him. Like they needed to be answered.

"Chris, please, don't die."

Die?!

He opened his eyes and once again was blinded by brightness. He turned his head away and squinted, thinking about raising his arm, but remembering what had happened last time. He looked away from the light to see a pair of blue green eyes staring back at him. After blinking a couple of times the rest of the picture came into view and he looked into the terrified yet hopeful face of his tag team partner.

"Chris… Oh, thank God. You're awake."

"Christian? What's going on?"

"Don't you remember?"

"I can't… My head is like foggy or something. Nothing's really clear right now." He frowned a little. "Where are we?"

"At the hospital."

"What? Why?"

Christian sighed. "Because you tried to kill yourself for Trish."

Jericho looked at him as if he had grown a third head for a moment, but then it came flooding back to him with such strength that it made his head spin. He groaned at the dizzy sensation which made him remember falling to the floor covered in blood. He could remember intense pain from his arm. And then he remembered what a spectacle he had made of himself.

"Oh God… I got rejected on national television again. This time so pathetically desperate that I nearly died for a woman I'll never have."

"You're not pathetic. You just act a little headstrong sometimes and take things too extreme. Plus you love her."

"Loved her. That rotten fucking bitch was going to let me die," he hissed.

"She'll pay for it in some way."

"I was willing to give my life for her… Am I really that terrible that even that amount of dedication can't bring a woman to me?"

"Maybe you should stop trying with women."

"But I can't… I need someone, Christian. God, I'm… I'm so lonely."

"I know you are, sunshine. I see it in your eyes everyday."

"I don't know what to do anymore…"

"Stop searching for love that you can't have, Chris. Instead look at what's around you. Look at what's right in front of you," Chris looked up at him just as he said it, "and find the love that's been here all along."

Jericho's jaw dropped as he stared into Christian's eyes, feeling his arms around him and the warmth from where he had been pulled into his embrace. It was the same as what he had felt before blacking out. And it had been his voice that screamed in utter agony and sorrow. Christian had held him as he had nearly died and had cried for him to stay and had told him that he loved him.

"I told you she didn't love you… I do…" he repeated the words he heard in his mind.

"I love you, Chris," Christian finished for him.

"Oh God, Christian, I'm so sorry."

Anything else he had been intending to say was silenced with a pressing kiss. He allowed it, responded to it, and wanted more when he was pulled away from. The two of them stared at one another for a long moment without saying a single word. Then the gap was closed again with the meeting of lips in a kiss much more tender than the last. There was no further need for words. At last they had found each other. They had found out who they loved once and for all.

The End