act one: what defines a dream

I hate hospitals.

It isn't the staff, nor the smell, nor the design, nor anything but the memories that I've had scattered throughout my life that have associated hospitals with some of my most hated memories, the kind-of memories one desires desperately to forget one way or another and, at times, even tries to force a forgetfulness towards.

In my late teenaged years, I had spent two weeks of my life alongside of my then-fiance Crystal with the both of us in a coma. Less than a month later, she passed away while I was on my way to the hospital to see her. I... well, I had never really gotten to say goodbye.

Throughout those years, I had seen good friends die in hospitals meant to try and bring them back from the brink. Some because of alcoholism, others because of stupid decisions and, in one case, because of the loss in a long fight against cancer that had gone for most of his young life.

Throughout all this loss, I always felt like I was a moment away from losing my mind, and in many ways, I had already lost some of it.

There was a time, even, where I'd lost sight of God. Now, when it comes to this business, I... I don't talk about my faith all-too often because, as with anything else, what we talk about here is subject to dissection and ridicule, and to a challenge from a foe who will hate absolutely anything you cherish in your life.

For me, my faith isn't something I want to fight with others over... I'd much rather stick to fighting them for the love of the sport and nothing more.

It's not because I fear the outcome of any kind-of verbal exchange resulting over my beliefs, it's just... because of my past, I feel like I've had to fight with myself over it for far too long to want to fight with anyone else. I had always fluctuated, wondering where God was when the people I loved died... my only chance of maintaining sanity coming from this profound thing in my heart called hope.

I hoped for brighter days, I dreamed of a happier future, and in the end... what seemed to define my dreams more than anything had been, back then, the business of wrestling. I had been to school for it, I had all the training required and was just waiting at that point for someone to contact me back. At the time, I... I'd still been reeling over the loss in my life, primarily still that of Crystal, in particular, and it wasn't something I'd easily pulled away from.

I found Suki, though... the business brought us back together and, because of that, brought me back from the brink that I'd been fighting for so long to keep from falling off of. Really, it's one of the many reasons I love this sport as much as I do... it had honest-to-God saved my life not all too long ago.

See, though, even when one's fairy-tales seem to be coming true... they can turn into a nightmare in the span of a single night. I found that out when Suki suffered a car accident of her own only weeks before I was scheduled to defend my world title, an accident that put her in a coma and plagued me with doubt about the future and, once again... about my faith.

My one greatest weapon in my war against myself was the hope I'd always held that things were meant to keep improving. It's a hope I still hold onto today, a hope I've now brought to aim at the life of my best friend. Chris Champion may be dying, but... there's nothing that can stop me from insisting he stay hopeful. Insisting he never gives up... never winds up dying in a hospital bed, instead of his own in the last of his golden years.

I want Champion to be there for his son's life, to guide him when he needs his father's help. I want him to be there for Georgina, to hold her hand when she needs him most. I want him there for Suki and I, to be the always-loyal friend who we can count on in our hardest times. Hell, I... I want him to be there for my son, to be the godfather he was supposed to be to him.

Fuck's sake, I want my best friend back. I've came to terms with that, too... as it stands, I had built myself up over these past few months with this supreme sense of hope that he'd do nothing but improve, and this almost-arrogant belief that there was nothing to be concerned for in his health. I tricked myself into thinking that Champion's fate was a foregone conclusion that he'd yet to come to accept, but really? I was only half-right.

Champion's fate is a foregone conclusion... all of ours are, we all die in the end. That is the great final chapter to the lives of all here on earth; however... it wasn't Champion who'd not accepted his fate. If anything else, he'd taken to his fate with open arms and a sense of optimism that he could make his final days the best he'd ever have.

It was me. I couldn't accept it. I still can't accept it. I... I'm trying to believe that there's a chance that Champion might make it, but seeing him lying in a hospital bed, like so many others whom I've cared for before him... it's something that has shaken that ever-present hope of mine more than anything else has in my life. It's like seeing the faces of my fallen friends and loved ones staring back at me from his own.

Like seeing death's hand gently resting on Champion's shoulder, waiting to draw the life from his lungs and be done with it.

It wasn't supposed to end like this, I... I'd always dreamt of such an incredible future for our two families, and of our children turning into a family all their own. I spent so long dreaming of this perfect fairy-tale, and trying to prepare the world around my for it, that I... I lost sight of the nightmares that come with life, too. What's more, because of that, I lost sight of how I used to be able to handle it.

So yes, I... I've been hiding. This time, I've been running, using a mask of false bravado that I'd honestly believed in, trying to project my confidence upon Chris just as if he were any other opponent when, in the end, I know he's not. He's still the best wrestler I've ever faced, and that's not something that'll ever overwhelm me or bring me to fear him... as it stands, any match we have gets me pumped for the fight ahead; not for the victory or the defeat that awaits me.

No, what I'm afraid of, what I'm truly afraid of... is being the reason for his death by the end of the night. By the end of this night. We, I... God, I don't know what to do with myself any more.

"Hope is all you need," says this voice inside my head, repeating itself throughout the years like a song stuck on loop with no way in sight to silence it. It's a voice that has carried me through the worst points throughout my life, but... every time I try to endure it, every time I rely on this hope of mine to get me through, I have to listen that little bit harder.

Sometimes, I'd swear that voice has faded completely... and this past Sunday night, I know it didn't make a sound as I sat in the back of the arena blaming myself for the fact that my best friend was being rushed to the hospital, relying on the comfort of my wife's presence to keep me from simply losing it for the first time in ages.

Hope... hope is what defines my dreams, it's a never-fading presence in them, even when my life struggles to hold onto hope almost any time those dreams of mine hit a road-block I cannot overcome.

Yet because of Champion, when I know he needs this hope of mine more than anything... I find myself losing it little by little. I find myself gradually being weighed down by the stress and the strain of these years of repressed memories finally breaking through the dam built to hold them back. For so long now, I... I've spent so much time securing my future and neglecting the past that I've still yet to deal with that I just, I left myself open for this sort-of thing.

But... what can I say? I'm just the naive boy scout who dreamed too damn big for his own good, and after living a life spent watching people close to him die, trying everything he can to keep hold of that one glimmering star called hope... he's starting to realize now more than ever that there's more than hope and dreams when it comes to surviving life's largest falls.

The faces of my lost loved ones fade away, revealing the ever-silent, ever-cold face of Chris Champion... a blank expression left where his usual grin would be. I want to keep hoping, Chris... I want to strip you of this burden you've put yourself in and I want you to recover... but, even if I do manage to do all those things on my end, I know I can only hope for nothing less than a miracle.

"Hang in there, Champ..."

Lord knows I'm trying to, too.