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January 1st, 2024 Las Vegas, NV

Bleary blue eyes scan the mess in front of him at the bottom of the stairway.

A catastrophe of empty glasses, water from leftover cubes mixed with the remnants of whiskey and otherwise. Snacks left out on the kitchen island. Sink full of dirty dishes. Bottles strewn across the bar. Streamers and paper hats littered across the living room floor. The 70” television left on long after the ball dropped.

Kaz sitting upright, dead asleep in one corner of the big sectional couch, shirtless with his head and arms hanging over the backrest.

Ami in the other corner, multicolored hair a mess, snoring up a storm under a blanket lazily tossed over her sleeping body.

And The Bad Dog, snorting through the gray mustache of his beard, taking it all in on the bottom step.

Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Years. For fifty years, none of them ever carried any weight.

But not anymore.

He steps off into the living room, approaching the slumbering Kaz and swooping a pillow into his hand on the way. Wade gives Kaz a light kick against the leg…

“Dude, what the hell…”

…and follows by tossing the pillow onto Ami’s stomach, lurching her awake, only for her to grab it and cover her face.

“Noooooo, go awaaaay…”

“C’mon,” grumbles Elliott with a small grin. “Let’s clean all this shit up ‘fore yer mother wakes up.”

Kaz drags his fingers down his face and wipes the corners of his mouth. “You know she’s probably already been up and ran 10 miles while we were passed out, right?”

“And then went to the gym and taught a class,” Ami adds, pulling the blanket over her head and curling into a ball.

“Yup. An’ that's why we're gonna clean this place up,” Wade reiterates, having wandered into the kitchen to grab a trash bag. When he walks back into the living room, he tosses it at Kaz and yanks the blanket off Ami. “I’ll git on them dishes.”

The twins groan and groggily pull themselves off the couch. Kaz looks for his shirt while Ami searches for the TV remote to find some music to clean to. It’s not long before Wade hears drums, guitars, and laughter over the sound of running water from his station at the kitchen sink.

And that grin grows just a little bit bigger…

February 3rd, 2024 Philadelphia, PA

Bleary blue eyes struggle to open and acknowledge the morning, even though the sun feels warm and comforting on his skin and the bold, rich smell of fresh-brewed coffee wafts through the air.

Wade’s never been a morning person; nothing about that’s changed in fifty years, not even a partner who wakes up well before the crack of dawn every day and functions on only a few hours’ sleep a night.

They say opposites attract, and the Blue Collar Brawler and the Queen of the Ring are the poster children for the phrase.

Wade peels his eyelids apart to find himself alone in their suite’s king-sized bed. He narrows his eyes in confusion before seeing a note on the pillow next to him in Lindsay’s hasty scribble.

Going for a run. Getting coffee when I’m back. xo

“Not surprised,” he says with a chuckle, then looks at the bedside clock.

9AM.

Better get a move on before the coffee gets cold…

After a shower and a shave, Wade emerges from the bedroom to find Lindsay sitting cross-legged on the couch, her laptop in her lap and a large cup of coffee on the table in front of her.

“Mornin’ handsome,” she smiles and looks up at him, then motions with her head to the room service cart. “Just in time.”

“Mornin’,” he replies, planting a soft kiss on her forehead before ambling to the cart, collecting his own cup. “You manage to outrun th’sun this time or what?”

“Almost,” she hides a smirk behind her cup. “Maybe you should join me for once. It’s good for the heart, old man.”

He snorts, taking a swig of his own. “Weren’t my style then, ain’t my style now.”

Wade pauses, lifting his gaze to the Queen from behind the steam rising from his coffee.

“Don’t matter anyhow. Clearly I ain’t got what it takes no more…”

He says it jokingly as he leans against the suite’s kitchen countertop, but it earns a curious eye from Troy regardless.

“What do you mean, you don’t have what it takes anymore?”

“Ah, it’s nothin’,” he replies, waving it off. “Ferget I said anythin’.”

“Wade, you can’t say that and then brush it aside like you didn’t mean it,” Lindsay says, shutting her laptop and placing it off to the side. “So spit it out, or I’m dragging you with me on every 5AM run from here on out…”

“Why’d ya pass me up?” he finally blurts out.

“Pass you up? For what?”

“That War Games shit! I get it was a bunch’ve bull, but hell, ya could’ve thrown yer man’s name in the mix. I’m still kickin’ ass, ain’t I?”

For a split second, Lindsay looks surprised. Then she sees Wade’s blue eyes flickering with hurt as steam rises from his coffee mug, and she lets out a soft sigh of regret. After a moment, she slowly stands and makes her way to him.

“Hey.” Her arms wind around his neck, and her eyes meet his. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to slight you. You are still kicking ass.”

“Oh, I know it,” he says, placing his big paws on her hips. “Ain’t been beat so far, ‘least this time ‘round.”

She smiles, and he pulls her in closer.

“Don’t count me out just yet,” he growls low.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she whispers before a kiss.

Deftly for a man such as Wade, he lifts his Queen off the ground and pivots, setting her on the kitchen counter.

“No bit of a lie,” he starts. “Feels pretty damn good t’be back on th’road.”

Lindsay smirks as she wraps her legs around his waist, then steals a sip of his coffee. “Were you getting tired of being cooped up in that one bedroom suite at the Grand?”

“I mean, can't complain ‘bout the company…” he grins, his hands exploring her lower back. “Or ‘bout th’house, but yeah, it was good timing to hit th’road again.”

Her expression softens while she brushes wayward strands of silver hair out of Wade’s eyes. Sixteen years ago, his hair was brown and kept close to his scalp, much like most of his true thoughts and feelings were kept close to the chest and locked away tight.

Not so much anymore.

“Well,” she says through a smile; he’s always been good-looking, and age has only made him moreso, “it has been nice having you as a travel companion again. It’s like the old days, without the threat of kidnapping.”

That earns her a chuckle. “‘Companion’, huh?” he chides, sneakily pushing her running vest off her shoulders. “You plannin’ on kickin’ me to th’curb?”

The Queen allows the vest to slip off her arms and fall to the counter top. She places her right hand on Wade’s chest, fingertips settling on Angus the Bluetick Hound’s head, tattooed over his heart.

A worry worms its way out of her brain and into her throat, but she swallows it away. Instead, she quips, “Only if you keep up with this, ‘I can’t hack it no more’ bullshit.”

Her grin is infectious, and before he realizes it, ‘Bama Bruiser is wearing one to match. “Good. ‘Cause I told ya,” he says, hand wandering underneath her long-sleeve shirt and up her back, pulling her in tight. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

His lips meet hers, and the world falls away. It’s not long before both her shirt and Wade’s find the floor and he’s carrying her back to the bedroom.

The coffee goes cold, and is long forgotten about.

But that worry, that everyone the Queen has ever loved always hurts her and leaves her, is still there, lying in wait.

March 7th, 2024 Las Vegas, NV

Bleary blue eyes flash behind the windshield. They had a lot to think about.

PRIME back on the road. His encounter with Youngblood after ReVival 44.

Words said and unsaid.

Wade takes in a sharp breath, and exhales slowly through his nose, turning the steering wheel of his truck as he navigates through Vegas in the early evening hours. 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

But, proof is in the pudding. Because since age sixteen, all the Blue Collar Brawler had ever done…

…was leave.

A lot changes in eighteen years, but a blemish ain’t nothin’ on a record full’ve scars.

He flips on his turn signal, and takes a sudden left.

He was pretty sure he knew a jeweler around here, somewhere.