A fluorescent light flickers overhead, indicating its short time left before leaving the room in complete darkness. Eyes gaze up at the light, unflinching, as its reflection glints off tears dripping down the face of an anguished man. Eyes which have not seen rest for days, eyes which have beheld something they had never wished to see again.

A trembling hand holds the soft hand of an angel, and a head lowers to let the eyes now stare upon the ground in sorrow. A heart, utterly destroyed by what those eyes have beheld. A mind, ruined and wrecked by the information is has processed on this day.

Dominic Pericolo lets out a shuddered breath, sobs, and lets another tear fall to the floor.

During the days he would otherwise be training, during the days where he would otherwise be preparing himself for a battle looming in the distance... he sits in a chair, facing a battle he's not fought in over a decade. The struggle to keep up hope for the one you love.

Suki Minamoto lies still on the bed beside him.

It is in this instant that Dominic has realized just how far from his dreams he truly is, just how little the things that once mattered to him really matter, and how truly important the angel laying motionless before him really is to him. He lets out a grunt of pain, struggling to hold in the coming onslaught of tears... and he is no longer strong enough to hold them at bay. He lets out a gasp as the tears come flowing, and unashamedly buries his face into the sheet which covered half of her frail figure.

"Why..." he would whisper into the sheet, "What did she do to deserve this...?"

She did not do anything to deserve it, but it happened anyway. She never would have asked for such a fate for herself, it was given to her anyway. She could never have committed a crime which would fit a punishment so great, but she received one anyway.

"Suki, please..." he choked out in desperation, squeezing her hand, "Please wake up... don't leave me Suki, please..."

No matter how difficult the circumstance, no matter how tiresome the travel... there is a hero who never loses hope for the better, so long as he and his angel keep going down the road together.

Now, without his angel... he is nothing more then a lost soul, searching for the purpose for him being on this road alone.

There is no purpose... there never would be; for without her he cannot be complete, and an incomplete man is not welcome on these trails of dreams.

Two hearts softly beating in one room, two hearts filled with love for one another, two hearts struggling with the situation they've come face-to-face with.

One heart moving on...

... and one heart giving in.

How could it have came to this? How, after everything seemed so perfect, could life take such a violent turn against the one man who stayed dedicated to his cause through and through? The tragic hero, the man who never deserved the fate given to him, yet was forced to shoulder the burden anyway. He does so with a grim exterior, no longer able to hold back the pain his life has been destined to be put through. For so long, able to hide it behind a dream he shared with the one he loved.

Dreams are for those afraid to face reality.

"Hello?"

A greeting, a conversation starter. When one lifts their telephone to their ear, they always respond in a similar fashion.

"Mr. Pericolo?"

The title of "Mr." always indicates one of many things, either annoying or grim. Often times, it's a telemarketer announcing that you may have already won some extraordinary prize from Ed McMahon, that you must fly down to Florida to meet up with him in the airport, that you must follow many simple guidelines to collect your winnings. Other times, they are collectors, asking for the whereabouts of that check you were supposed to send in to them to pay for their services which, more often than not, get redirected to the NLCW main office. This is because the NLCW often takes care of their wrestler's expenses, just another part of their paycheck.

Sometimes, however, when addressed with this title... you later wish it was one of them, rather than what you're hearing.

"Yes, this is he."

Confirmation, the door now opened for those on the other line to begin saying whatever it is they've called for. Your palms grow sweaty, your eyebrow twitches, and a sudden chill rushes down your spine. Somehow, something doesn't feel right this time. Somehow, this person doesn't sound like they want to sell you something.

"Do you know a Suki Minamoto?"

But that too is a falacy, of course... because they do want to sell you something. These people... they're selling you death itself.

"What happened?"

There are no confirmations to the prior question, an instant inquery follows it instead. Fear overrides all your senses, your hair stands on end. This death they sell you, it doesn't always have to be that of a loved one... but more often then not, it is of something you, or they, cherish.

"There's been an accident. We need you down here as soon as possible."

Time stands still.

Deja'vu.

Time stands still. Deja'vu. Deja'vu. Deja'vu.

The world has spun backwards, the nightmares of the past laugh as they escape their cage and whirl 'round your mind, blocking out the pleasent memories and reminding you only of the fear, that God-forsaken fear that empties itself into every fibre of your being, from the pores of your skin to the depths of your soul. You cough, sputter, as a choking torrent of tears force their way up. Bile rumbles from your stomach, the urge to be sick now overtaking the physical sensations running through you.

Time stands still.

Deja'vu.

"Where... where is she?"

You choke out an answer, though to you your voice no longer sounds human. Twisted with fear and pain, beaten by the past nightmares you have fought your way through, shaken by what you're being told. You struggle to hold the phone, its weight suddenly too great for your hand. Those on the other end of the phone never get to answer, as the phone suddenly slides with the sweat of your palm, crashing violently to the floor below. You fall with it, a great wave of pain rushing through your knees as they collide with the ground beneath them. Crumpling forward, crippled by the physical pain, the mental anguish, the spiritual disconnection... you no longer are able to hold it in.

You scream. You scream, and you scream, and you scream.

Deja'vu, deja'vu, deja'vu.

You will never be happy.

Time stands still.

You will never be happy.

Another scream, you grab for your hair, your legs kick like those of a child throwing a tantrum. Pain rushes through your senses, you vaguely hear the panicked voices of the people on the phone, desperately trying to call you back, to pry you away from the pain, to assure you she will be okay. You cannot hear them however, your senses shot. You cannot hear, you cannot see, you cannot taste, smell nor touch. Yet deep inside you, you feel the pain. You can still feel, like a shell of a human being put through unending pain.

The world around you fades, you can't see a thing but the memory of her face. She sits before you, smiling like the angel she is, so full of hope and comfort and love. Your eyes fill with tears-- you cannot see them, but the burning pain they bring with them indicates their presence. You curl up into a ball, shivvering and crying. You can't take the pain, the pain of this severed connection. You feel cold. You feel on fire. You feel ripped to pieces.

You wake up, the white lights above stinging your eyes.

'Where... where am I...?'

Vision comes to focus, you sit up straight and look around. You see the white walls, the men and women in uniform, hustling and bustling through their everyday jobs. This is what they are expected to do, to help those injured and fading fast.

'No... this has to be a dream...'

Not a dream, but a nightmare: the nightmare of reality, the reality of dreams which can never be true.

"Ah, so you're awake."

Chris Champion, the king of the rock. Chris Champion, the Golden Son of the NLCW. Chris Champion, the living legend; one of the closest friends Dominic has.

"Was wondering when you would wake up... you've been out for awhile, man. Your family's flying out to come see you guys, make sure you're really okay. I can't blame them, hell I paid for their tickets... thought you wouldn't mind."

Confused glances, Dominic's eyes struggle to adjust to the scene around him. His expression is that of a lost child, frightened and bewildered. Champion casts him a look of pity, shaking his head and letting a sigh escape his lips. He turns, glancing at the clock on the wall whilst rubbing at his weary eyes. An awkward silence, a painful silence, a silence without end. Dominic shifts uncomfortably in the bed, carefully sitting up to get a better view through the door to the outside.

"Where..."

"Suki's in the room next door, bro. I told them they shouldn't keep you two far apart."

Dominic lowers his gaze, lifting his hands to grab at his head in pain. A headache, the dull sensation of pain sending spots and flashes of light into his vision. That pain from earlier, an attempt to resurface... yet this time held back, subdued despite its strength. Heavy breathing replaces the once steady breathing Dominic had, as Champion sat up and looked on in concern. With one trembling hand, Dominic reaches for his blanket, grabbing hold and ripping it off his body. Turning in the bed, he carefully hangs his legs off the side.

"Dom... doctors suggested you stay in bed for the day, man. If you..."

"I want to see her."

More silence, the feet find their place on the ground. Muscles tense themselves, as Dominic puts his full weight upon both his legs, forcing himself up out of the bed. The blanket lists off the side, falling beside Dominic's feet. He takes his first careful step forward, and then another.

Another step.

Another step.

A stride, and he takes off running.

Champion rushes from his seat, eyes widened as he watches Dominic rush through the door. The startled cries of nurses and doctors fill the air, as Champion shakes his head and runs after his friend, a mixed look of amusement and concern adorning his features. If there was one thing to be said of Dominic, it was that he never believed in giving up. The hero inside of him couldn't allow such a thing to happen.

Little did Champion know, however, that that hero within him was dying.

That it was dying all along.

Faced with the oncoming darkness, many heroes never falter. Faced with the manifestation of their nightmares, many heroes press on bravely. Heroes were meant to do things mere humans could not, heroes were meant to fight on with the strength of men would often fail.

Dominic Pericolo is considered a hero to many.

Dominic Pericolo is a hero to none.

"Please wake up... don't leave me Suki, please..."

His crutch in the world, his ray of light in times of shadows, his inspiration for all that he fights for. Without her, the hero becomes the boy, and the boy becomes a shell of a human being once more. Tears flow freely now, hands clutching at hair in a desperate time. The cry of a man's heart echoes through the cold, dark room... a wail of a broken spirit.

"She's not going to, Dominic..."

A voice meant for comfort, a voice fallen upon deaf ears. Chris Champion stands in the shadows, eyes watching the scene before him in utter sadness. He is nonexistant, however... he is no longer there for Dominic Pericolo to see. For now, all he sees are his nightmares, all he sees are his shattered dreams, memories of the past...

All he sees is a fallen angel lying before him.

"Don't leave me Suki! Please! Please!!"

The voice of the child shines through, desperate and pleading for something he knows he may not receive. A world which has stolen once should not be afraid to steal again, a world which has murdered once would not fear to kill again.

A man who has died once, however, fears to die again. He fears the pain and emptiness, he fears the cold grip which kept him strangled for so many years. A hero who is desperate to survive, desperate to feel the warmth of the light once more. Yet in these dark times, light touches only the skin... never the inside of his heart as it once did. These times of death make the hero more desperate for survival, fighting the onslaught of pain the man is put through to rise to the surface and save not just himself, but that man as well.

Dominic Pericolo has forsaken his heroes... and, finally, a Pericolo has given in.

"Damn it, pull yourself together Dominic! You have to keep up hope for her!"

Hope... such a funny word. It is hope that inspires many men to fight on, hope which keeps bravery steady in times of trouble. Dominic's eyes close, he has forgotten what hope feels like... he wishes to feel it again. Searching, delving deep within his memories... and only coming up with pain. He dives under the surface of the murky waters, cries out for that feeling to return, but cannot find an answer. Instead, he is shown the scenes of the past, the scenes of pain long-since forgotten in time.

The skeletons have finally fought their way from the closet, and have brought with them the hounds of hell upon Dominic's mind.

"Dominic? DOMINIC!!"

"Suki..."

The world shakes, a strange sensation shooting through Dominic's body. Champion's hands, gripping his shoulders tightly as he forces Dominic around, staring him in the eye. Dominic's own eyes, faraway... showing little sign of life, but enough to keep Champion's own hope afloat as Dominic's sinks to the bottom.

"Look at me, damn it! Don't you DARE give up on her!"

Eyes refocus, vision clear... a grim understanding finally registering in the mind. Dominic's eyes fill with tears and he drops his head, letting out a shuddered breath. He can't... he can't give up on her. He promised he wouldn't, promised he'd always be there... always to be strong, right? Yet look at him now... the hero in him is dying, and the man isn't far behind. A shell, a human shell...

When a man is forced to face his demons, he learns a valuable lesson to carry on with him in life. Yet this... this is not the case any longer, for this lesson cannot be carried, and instead shall be shouldered as a burden. This lesson has been carved in stone since the beginning of the man's journey, and left behind him in obscurity. He never knew it until now, never would understand what it meant until this very hour...

The hero was built... to tear himself down.

Bei Tai meng, the Wandering Samurai, had long ago fought off the oncoming darkness. He had put an end to the Age of Shadows, he had captured the Sword of Gaea, he had held off the samurai of the black clouds.

Danger, the hero of Capital City, always giving everything he had for the people. No matter how great his opposition, Danger would step into battle to protect the people, he would put his life on the line for them.

King Pericolo, the proud king of his people, the king who would ride into battle to take down all threats alongside his faithful men. His eyes unwavering, his blade never knowing rest. A fair king, a wise king.

A countless number of men and heroes, sitting before Dominic's still form. All of them, their eyes filled with pity as they stared this man down.

"I... I created all of you." he whispered, his eyes clouding over with tears. None of them dared to answer back to him, instead taking their steps forward. Panicked, Dominic searched the rows of heroes for someone not of his own mind, yet all he could see was his own creation. A veritable army of heroes, of proud men from other worlds. With a cry, Dominic grabbed for the Wandering Samurai, shaking him violently.

"YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER! YOU COULDN'T SAVE HER!!"

A dark cloud hovers overhead, blocking out the sun from sending light to nurish the world below. These clouds are a common occurance, always appearing at the darkest times a hero can possibly face.

These clouds are a common occurance, always forcing the hero to rely on hope alone as he realizes just how difficult the situation he's come to face truly is. These clouds are a common occurance, because the hero will never find true happiness.

He shall always be left to wander, to entertain, to protect and to serve. He shall never be given his desires, shall never accomplish his dreams. No matter how noble the hero is, no matter how hard he fights, no matter how much hope his soul contains... the hero shall always fall.

The hero was born to fall.

When these clouds had scattered none too long ago, when the skies had cleared and the land offered its fruits for the hero to taste of... everything seemed so utterly perfect. Regardless of his status, the hero knew that he would be okay. That should he lose what he'd fought for, he still had so very much ahead of him to look forward to. Soon, one day, he could finally step down... and by doing so start the family he'd always wanted to have.

The hero was never meant to step down, never meant to stop trying. The hero can never say die, even though he's been doomed to since the beginning.

The heroes fall before Dominic's eyes, one by one with looks of matching anguish in their eyes. Just as he'd created them, Dominic would bring them down... and alone in the darkness would he rest, a dying hero on his own.

In a land where light and shadows have always battled for supremacy, this hero has written so often of the triumphs held against those dark forces, of the pain and suffering overcame over time. He writes of his dreams, his ideals, his hopes for the future... that the hero, much as with those of broadway, shall always win in the very end. All of his struggles, all of his battles, building up to the inevitable day where he finally reaches an epiphany.

It has been the one hope, the one dream he has held onto since the very beginning.

It is a hope which has now been dashed before his eyes, proven a falacy, and stabbed straight into his heart like the bitter blade of a fallen enemy. His eyes glaze over, fill with water, and gently close... and an almighty wail of sorrow escapes his lips. He now realizes it, he now understands it, he now feels the pain.

Dominic Pericolo was never meant to be happy.

Dominic Pericolo was never meant to save anyone.

Dominic Pericolo... was destined to fail; and Shane Perry would pick up the pieces.

The man who has fought for so long, believed so heavily in his on ability. Where he now stands, confident in what he can do, Dominic lies in pain and uncertainty. A situation forced upon him, a fight he does not wish to enter. To leave his angel's side, to be forced to leave his angel's side...

Not rage, he does not feel that for this... no, instead he feels anguish. He feels the tears build up again.

Everything he'd worked to build was crumbling down around him. His kingdom fallen, his title stained, his blood spilled in vain. The legacy he'd struggled to uphold finally had overtaken him, proving the burden to be too strong. No matter how hard this hero fought, he could never make it in the end. That title which sat 'round his waist for so long, once a symbol of the past and the future, now nothing more than leather and gold.

An angel will always be worth more then a title, regardless of the history that title may have.

Thus, the broken pieces of a hero shall make their way into battle one last time, grouped together like shattered bits of glass bound unsteadily with tape. With a bleeding heart, a crying soul, a body already injured from the sights beheld... the hero will make his final stand.

The hero has been dying, unknowingly, for months... and his final night is soon approaching. So wash your hands once this is all over, Shane... for his blood will stain them to the bone. The blood of a fallen hero, the blood of a misguided soul.