Two Years

October 23, 2022

Paxton Ray slung his backpack over his shoulder and winced, grabbing his side as he used his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun shining down on the surface lot of Louis Armstrong International Airport. He had just flown in from Vegas after ReVival 17, an unsuccessful attempt to wreak havoc on his former place of employment following his firing.

“Fuckin’ Troy,” he muttered as he walked out, then decided the curse train needed to keep rolling. “Fuckin’ taser. Fuckin’ security. Fuckin’ Wade.”

The train rolled so much that Paxton didn’t notice a beat-up brown Suburban rolling through the lot until it came within a few feet of the Bayou Butcher. Then Paxton snarled in its direction. “What the fuck?”

The passenger side window of the Suburban rolled down and Foster Nackedy smiled out at Paxton from the driver’s seat. “Get in, loser.”

Paxton stared at the man he had not seen or spoken to since he decided to end Jonathan Rhine’s career. After a moment, he slid in and tossed his bag in the backseat. “Don’t remember orderin’ discount Uber.”

“She was made in 1986 and she still runs like a tired grandma on a July day,” Foster said proudly, rubbing the dash of his car. “And the ride may not cost you any money, but it is going to cost you something.”

Paxton didn’t answer until they were on the interstate. “So I guess you’re callin’ in that favor?”

Foster smiled as he pulled the shade down to block the sun. “Sure as shit, Pax. Let’s go get our gym back.”

_______

Clank

Paxton dropped the lock against the door and looked over at Foster. “Guess ya ain’t got a key.”

“Not since Jon stole this place from me two years ago,” Foster muttered, looking around. “What a pussy. Gets his neck broken and orders his minions to close up shop.”

Paxton snorted. “Damn, ya really don’t like him, huh?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot he was your best friend,” Foster said, walking towards the side of the building. “No, I don’t. I used to, early on. But one day I realized I actually sort of hated him.”

“Then why let him train under ya? Why let him work for the gym?”

“Because I have this really bad habit of not being able to predict the future, Pax.” Foster went around back, moving aside some tree branches. “I was doing a former student a favor. A lot of people don’t know what to do when their wrestling career is over. Pat Gray did the same thing for me when I retired so I figured I was just paying it forward. Turned out I was paying something else forward.”

“What’s that?”

“Revenge.” Foster reached the back door and shook the lock there. “Fuck.”

“Ya really thought they’d lock the front door and forget t’do the same in the back?”

Foster looked up at Paxton with a smile that made him uncomfortable. “Well he didn’t really see an attack from behind coming before, did he?”

They walked back to the side and both looked around. After a few moments, Paxton asked, “Whatcha mean ‘bout payin’ revenge forward?”

“You ever watch Star Wars?”

Paxton spat. “The fuck ya think?”

“Aw, don’t be like that. I could see you in a Jedi robe for Halloween next week.” Foster continued to look around the building. “Anyway, the bad guys have a cycle where a dark lord has an apprentice, and one day the apprentice kills them and takes over. Then they get their own apprentice and the cycle continues over and over again.”

“They’re some fuckin’ numbskulls for takin’ apprentices in the first place.”

“George Lucas isn’t a great writer. But I liked the imagery, and so when Jon took you on in his obvious attempt to get back to wrestling glory, I saw the signs. Anybody who looks at you can see it. I figured it’d happen eventually, but I decided to move it along a little. And now you’re the apprentice who murdered the Sith Lord.”

“Cool, I guess.” Paxton walked towards a window. Gray’s was an older building with a few antiquated architecture techniques. The windows had iron bars over them to prevent someone from doing precisely what Foster and Paxton were trying to do. However, one set of windows had, through storms or intentional damage, lost the full protection of the bars; they were bent and mangled. “Might be able t’get in here.”

“Looks like a tight squeeze.”

“Everythin’s a tight squeeze when you’re this tall.” Paxton turned around and grabbed a large rock, then hurled it at the window, sending glass flying everywhere. A shard flew towards Paxton, who instinctively raised his hands. Checking them, he nods. “That was close.”

“Give a guy some warning, Jesus Christ!” Foster pushed himself up from where he had dove on the grass. “Is this how it’s gonna be with you? Just randomly fucking shit up?”

Paxton laughed. “Ya wanted your gym back.” Paxton walked over to the window and placed his hands on the ledge, then shook his head. “Too high. Need a ladder.” As Foster and he walked back around the gym, Paxton looked over at his new companion. “Lemme ask ya somethin’.”

“What’s that?”

“What’s the deal with Wade Elliott?”

Foster smiled. “Did you not like looking into a future mirror?”

“Psh, that fucker’s from Bama, we ain’t nothin’ alike.”

“Let’s see. You’re big, you’re angry, you’ve got beards, and you enjoy hurting people. Nope, nothing alike at all.”

“Yeah but he’s soft. Ya can tell. He knows his time is runnin’ out, no matter how much he growls. He’s kinda like a dog with a shock collar on, all bravado until he gets outside his yard.”

“Father Time comes for us all, and maybe he has softened a bit. But I’m sure if you get your job back at PRIME, Troy is going to eventually sic that dog on you as punishment. And he’s no slouch, no matter how gray those hairs get.”

“Whatever,” Paxton said, then nodded. “There we go, there’s a ladder.” He grabbed it and began to carry it back to the broken window. “So is it just age? Why he’s soft?”

“Maybe. We all get old and lose our edge. I’m sure you won’t be paralyzing folks in the nursing home, though that would be funny to watch. But I think Wade is committed to PRIME. To an unhealthy degree if you ask me.”

“What’s that s’posed t’mean?”

Foster shrugs. “I just think he’s focusing too much on protecting Troy and the business, and that can also make you lose your edge.”

“Well that’s my plan, then,” Paxton said, setting the ladder up against the wall.

“What’s that?”

“No apprentices, nothin’ t’protect. Ya said that the bad guys get attacked by their apprentices, so don’t let anybody learn from me. An’ ya said Wade got soft ‘cause a’Troy and PRIME, so don’t let anybody get too close.” He began to climb the ladder at Foster shook his head.

“What about Nora?”

“Nora’s my daughter, she don’t count. She ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Foster looked up at the window. “That does look like a tough squeeze. You really going to get in there?”

“Ya wanted your gym back,” Paxton said again, then slithered through the window. Halfway through, he grunted. “Fuck, it got me.”

“What did?” Foster said, then saw red begin to pour from Paxton’s side. “Holy shit, Pax!”

“Ain’t too bad,” he grunted, sliding the rest of the way through and leaving dripping blood on the jagged glass.

“Ain’t too bad? You need to go to the hospital!”

“That can wait, unless ya wanna tell ‘em we were breakin’ into a gym an’ your buddy sliced his side on a window he broke.”

“It’s so sweet that you think we’re friends,” Foster said, “but you should do something about that.”

“Way ahead a’ya,” Paxton answered, then disappeared from Foster’s view. A few minutes later he appeared again with something wrapped around his torso.

“Is that a towel?”

“Nah, it’s two Fightin’ For Nora shirts tied together. Figured he won’t need ‘em anymore.”

Foster grinned. “That’s brilliant. What’s less brilliant is our plan. I just realized you can’t let me in because of the padlock, and I’m not following you through that glass death trap.”

“Ahead a’ya there too,” Paxton said, then tossed something out the window. The object landed at Foster’s feet and he picked it up.

“Hell yeah, bolt cutters. Now just sit tight in there and I’ll go around to–what the fuck!” Foster ducked again as Paxton kicked the window out, sending more glass falling everywhere. Paxton jumped out of the window and landed in a crouching position. “Why the fuck did you do that? You could’ve just stayed inside and waited for me.”

“I wasn’t thinkin’. You’ll get used t’that.”

“Oh goody.” Foster carried the bolt cutters to the front of the gym and opened them over the chain before noticing Paxton was staring at him. “What?”

“Ain’t ya gonna say somethin’ dramatic? This is what you’ve been waitin’ for forever, ain’t it?”

Foster considered it, then nodded as he clamped the bolt cutters down. “Time to bring Gray’s home.”

_______

October 22, 2024

Paxton Ray slung his backpack over his shoulder and winced, grabbing his side as he used his other hand to shield his eyes from the sun shining down on the surface lot of Louis Armstrong International Airport. “Fuckin’ mystery prick. Fuckin’ weird music. Fuckin’ Wade.”

As Paxton continued to curse, he walked across the lot before almost getting hit by a car. He looked up and snarled until he realized whose car it was. “God damn, Foster, ya still drive this fuckin’ thing?”

Foster Nackedy rolled down the window and grinned. “She’s almost 30 years old and she only growls sometimes. Sort of like you. Get in, loser.”

After a few moments of staring at his former mentor, Paxton slowly entered the beat-up car and threw his backpack in the back seat. “So why are ya pickin’ me up? Shweta need me for somethin’?”

“No, I just missed you so much and figured we could spend the next twenty minutes talking about what you’ve been up to since you outed my son to me,” Foster said with a smile.

“I–”

“Don’t apologize, you fucking ninny, I was messing with you. Of course Shweta needed you. She’s been researching the compound in Utah, and I think she’s finally got a plan. We would’ve told you earlier but you were busy getting beat up by Lin Manuel Miranda so we didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Joke’s on ya, I don’t even know who that is.”

“Yes you do, he wrote the soundtrack to Moana.”

Paxton grit his teeth. “Then I fuckin’ hate that motherfucker.” He looked out the window and sighed. “An’ I hate that motherfucker who jumped me too. Coward ass usin’ a light show t’attack me from behind.”

Foster briefly took his eyes off the road to send Paxton a withering stare. “Aren’t you the same person who attacked your partner from behind?”

“Yeah, yeah, that was two years ago.”

“Listen, Pax, I love this new ‘redeemed sinner’ wardrobe you’ve been wearing, it’s tres chic, but let’s not act like two years is some insane length of time.”

Paxton shrugged his shoulders. “Feels pretty long t’me.”

“Yeah, I’d imagine so, because living two years as Paxton Ray must feel like a fucking lifetime.” Foster ignored the death stare coming at him from the passenger seat and continued. “We had the same President. You were still in your late twenties. You nearly murdered someone and you were reviled by the world as recently as earlier this year. So don’t sit there and act like it’s ludicrous to bring up something you did two years ago.”

Paxton didn’t reply for a few minutes. Then, finally, as he stared out the window at the billboards welcoming them to The Big Easy, he muttered, “I feel different.”

Foster drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and nodded. “Well, at least there’s that.”

_______

Paxton could tell something was wrong when they got to the warehouse because everyone was outside.

“What’s up?” he asked Julie, who turned around like she had seen a ghost.

“Oh God, Paxton, you scared me!” He instinctively reached out to her but pulled back, and she looked down at her feet suddenly. “We’re locked out.”

“How the hell did that happen?” Paxton asked, then got his answer as a large dog jumped at his knees.

“Bella!” Paxton said, grinning and kneeling so he could give Julie’s golden lab some well-deserved ear scritches.

“I brought Bella and we all came outside to play with her in the field across the street,” Julie said, smiling at Bella’s display of affection.

“Unfortunately I didn’t realize the door was locked, and I left my keys inside,” Shweta said, scowling. “I’m sorry, everyone.”

"It's fine, hon," Jonathan Rhine said, reaching out to grab her hand. "At least it's a nice day out."

Julie looked over at Paxton. “The locksmith should be here in an hour."

“Forget the locksmith,” Paxton said, standing up and giving Bella one last pet. “I got this.” He walked to the side of the warehouse and scanned it, then nodded at a large window towards the back. “Foster, ya comin’?”

Foster stared blankly at him for a few moments before a memory flashed in his brain. “Sure, it’ll be just like old times.”

“What does that mean?” Shweta asked, but Foster and Paxton were already walking towards the back.

“Hopefully there’s a ladder back here,” Foster said as they began to look. “You know, it’s kind of funny. Weren’t we talking about Wade Elliott last time we broke into a big building? And now you’re facing him on the next show.”

“Pretty funny,” Paxton grunted, lifting some siding and looking under it. “I wonder if Wade’s still as soft as I thought he was back then.”

“Maybe,” Foster said. “Maybe being in a relationship with Queen Troy has made him more angry than ever.”

“Ya act like ya weren’t tryin’ t’hit that for like six months last year.”

“I like when hot women are mean to me,” Foster said with a shrug. “What about you?”

“Nah, I like nice women.”

“Not that, about Wade being soft. Do you think you’re softer than you were two years ago?”

Foster had been involved with Paxton Ray in some capacity for the better part of a year. He was used to his mannerisms, the way he reacted to things, and the way his temper would flare. So he was positive that when he insulted Paxton’s toughness that he would likely be punched in the face, or at the very least threatened. What he did not expect was for Paxton to stop, scratch his beard for a moment, then nod. “Yeah, a bit.”

“Really.”

“Hard not t’be. Hell, Foster, all I wanted t’do back then was hurt people. An’ I’m not sure if ya remember most a’that conversation, but I do. I told ya that I wasn’t gonna let nobody get too close after ya talked about some dumb nerd shit. An’ do ya remember what ya said?”

“No.”

“Ya asked ‘bout Nora. An’ I dismissed ya because I took ‘er for granted. Ya also said that Wade was gettin’ softer ‘cause he was too dedicated t’PRIME, but now we know that it’s ‘cause he was dedicated to Lindsay specifically. An’ yeah, that kinda love can make somebody soft.” Paxton looked down at the ground. “An’ I’m realizin’ maybe that’s not that bad of a thing.”

Foster didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t. They continued to look around the lot by the warehouse until they found a step stool. Paxton grabbed it and moved it to the window, then looked behind him. “Ya might wanna move back a bit, ‘cause I’m ‘bout t’bust this window open.”

“Don’t gut yourself like last time,” Foster said, taking a few steps back.

“I wish I could tell ya that I’ll prob’ly never do somethin’ that dumb again, but it ain’t true,” Paxton said, tracing a finger along the scar on his side. Then, he grabbed a rock and stepped up to the window before feeling around. “Hey, the window’s open.”

“Thank God,” Foster laughed. “I was getting some serious deja vu over here.”

“Don’t break somethin’ unless ya gotta,” Paxton said, then disappeared. Foster waited by the window for a few minutes, then heard a voice from the front. “Door’s open, Fos. Come on in.”

Foster chuckled to himself and walked to the entrance. “Thought you might jump back out the window after unlocking it.”

“I thought better of it.”

Foster laughed. “Wow, you’re thinking now!”

Paxton scowled for a minute before matching Foster’s grin. “A lot has changed in two years.”

_______

Once they were all inside, Shweta laid out the plan for getting Nora. It involved stealth, distractions, and the involvement of people Paxton had never heard of. He listened through it all, only interrupting towards the end. “Nah.”

“What?”

“Ya said you’ll update me on the progress. Ya ain’t gotta update me for shit, ‘cause I’m gonna be there.”

Shweta sighed. “Paxton, we have talked–”

“I know. An’ what you’re sayin’ makes sense. But ever since I lost Nora – back when ya took her, and then when MESSIAH took her – people been tellin’ me t’stay on the sidelines. T’protect myself.” Paxton pointed at Foster. “Ya tol’ me to let MESSIAH handle it, and we saw how that turned out. I’m done bein’ protected. It’s time for me t’start protectin’ myself and my daughter. So no matter what ya say, I’m gonna be a part of this.”

Shweta looked from Paxton to each member of their odd team. “I don’t want you getting hurt,” Julie said. “But I know that you need to do this. So I think you should let him go, Shweta.” Julie reached out and grabbed Paxton’s hand.

“Hell yeah,” Foster said. “If he wants to throw himself on a grenade, let him do it.”

Shweta looked down to Jon, who had not said anything for several minutes. “What do you think?”

The New Life didn’t look up at his attacker. “I think this entire fight has been for Nora. And he’s Nora’s dad. Let him go.”

Shweta sighed. “You’re all right.” She turned to Paxton. “I won’t try to stop you. Just remember what’s on the line. Your livelihood. Your career. Your life.”

“I remember. An’ all’a that don’t matter if I can save her.”

Foster raised an eyebrow. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

Paxton nodded. “I really do.” He noticed Foster was still staring at him. “What?”

“Aren’t you going to say something dramatic?” Foster asked with a smile.

Paxton looked confused for a moment, then smiled back, squeezing Julie’s hand. “Time to bring Nora home.”