Immortality Fades

Title: Immortality Fades
Author: Brandy
Email: given2fly_n_dixie@yahoo.com, moonstar_75@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Content: Explicit sexual scenes, mentions of rape, violence and vulgar language
Characters: Molly Holly, Adam Copeland (Edge), Steve Williams (Stone Cold) Jay Reso (Christian) and various other WWE superstars
Summary :Sorta AU-ish. That's all your getting outta me.
Disclaimer: You know it, you've read it, but here it is anyway: I do not now, nor have I EVER owned any of the people mentioned in this work of fiction. This story is written for purely selfish reasons because my muses weren't going to leave me alone until I wrote it. It in NO WAY imitates the superstars real lives. If you wanna sue............well, may the fleas of a thousand camels infest your armpits. Oh yeah....and the song "My Immortal" belongs to Evanesence.
Dedication: This fic is for Rachel, who is ALWAYS leaving me hangin' for more of her work! *cough*KillingMeSoftly*cough*. ^__^



Molly Holly grunted as she lifted one of the heavier pieces of stage equipment. She'd been helping out as part of the "local" crew for WWE shows for the last two years, this having been the first time she'd signed on early. Last night's rock concert had left a lot to be done in order for the arena to be ready for the next night's wrestling show. Shoving a strand of short brown hair behind one ear, she quickly walked over to Steve, her best friend, and dropped the speaker at his feet.

"Hey! Watch it Molls! That came damn near to landing on my foot!" he grinned, trying to get a rise out of her. She raised an eyebrow at his attempt and turned to finish wrapping up the cords. Steve sighed. She'd said all of two words today to anyone and he was worried about her. Watching her quick movements as she worked, he thought again about how tired she looked and how thin it seemed she was getting, though if she'd heard that particular thought she'd have laughed. It had been almost five months since that bastard Randy had left her high and dry, holding the bills for all of his gambling debts. Just thinking that man's name made Steve seethe with anger. Taking a calming breath, he reminded himself that this was no time to let his temper get away from him. He locked up his tools and made his way over to where she was tossing the rolled up cords into a chest.

"So, how bout we grab a couple of beers when we're done here, huh? My treat." Molly offered a small smile and shook her head, bending down to finish the task at hand. "C'mon, Molls. It's been five months, you need to get out." She looked at him and the tiredness showed vividly on her small, pale face.

"I really can't tonight, Steve. After we finish here I really just want to go home and go to bed." She didn't mention the fact that she had to be up at 4am the next morning to be at one of her three other jobs. Steve sighed and looked at her skeptically.

"Promise you're gonna go right to sleep?" Molly smiled at his obvious concern. Placing her right hand over her heart, she raised her left in a mock salute.

"Yes sir!" Steve laughed, then groaned as he remembered something they'd forgotten.

"Damnit. We forgot to wheel in the grand." Molly looked behind her to the stage where a beautiful grand piano sat all alone to the side, half hidden in shadows. She reached out and gave him a shove towards the door. They were the last two of the set-up crew to leave, the others having left to go to a local pub an hour ago.

"Go. Have a beer. I'll take care of it." Steve looked at her skeptically, a look she was really coming to hate. He knew better than to make a remark about her being able to handle it on her own, so he opted for a safe approach.

"How about I help you and then you can leave too. It's almost midnight, munchkin." he said, using the old nickname for the first time in years. "I don't want you walking out to the parking lot by yourself." Molly felt a genuine smile tug at her lips and allowed herself the luxury of it.

"Didn't you forget a little something, Rattlesnake?" she asked, throwing one of his own nicknames back at him. "I have a handgun carrying license and a nine millimeter in my purse." She smiled sweetly at him. "And I'm a better shot than anyone within a 300 mile radius." Steve sighed. She had him there. She'd been shooting skeet since she was just 4 years old, and had more trophy's than she had room to put them. He ran a hand through his hair, licking his lips. He REALLY wanted that nice, cold beer.....

"Are you sure? You've got it with you? Lemme see it. I won't leave until I'm satisfied that you're gonna be alright." Molly smirked. Steve was such a pushover. She quickly walked over and grabbed her army bag off one of the seats. Reaching into the zippered side pocket, she withdrew the handgun.

"There. Happy now?" she asked, putting it back in the bag. Steve nodded and wished her a good night. He walked over to the backstage exit, only to pause at the door.

"Maybe I should wait anyway......." Picking up a turnbuckle cover that would have to be replaced before tomorrow night's show, she chucked it at his head, effectively sending him out the door with laugh." Alright! Alright! I'm going!" She listened to his footsteps retreat until she was surrounded by silence. People didn't seem to understand her affinity for being alone anymore. That or they attributed it to that snake-in-the-grass Randy. She gritted her teeth, just thinking the name. She wasn't really hurting anymore because of his betrayal. No, she thought walking over to run her fingers along the cool ivory keys of the magnificent piano, it was more embarrassment than anything. She'd let him leave her holding the bag, responsible for all his debts. Naiive was too nice a word for what she'd been. Ignorant...that was more like it.

Molly sighed and sat down on the bench in front of the grand instrument. She was the only one left in the building, other than the night security and this was probably the only chance she'd ever have of being onstage, a silly little daydram she'd had since childhood. She lightly played a little melody, pausing for a good five minutes afterward to see if there was any noise of protest from an unknown straggler or returning crew member. The silence that greeted her was like a balm to her wounded pride. She'd long since had to sell her own piano to help cover Randy's gambling expenses and the urge to sit and play for a while was overwhelming. She got comfortable and started to play. Twenty minutes and a few songs later, Molly actually felt a sense of peace steal over her. A small smile found it's way to her unpainted lips and she decided that after one more she would leave. It was already close to one and she really needed to get some sleep before heading over to the milk barns.

Molly cleared her throat and started to sing.


Adam Copeland, better know to his wrestling fans as "Edge", couldn't sleep. He'd turned in around 10:30 at the hotel, positive he'd be asleep before his head hit the pillow. It had been a long week and he only had these two shows left before he actually got to go home for an entire week. Tossing and turning, he'd finally gotten up about an hour later and decided he'd go do a little conditioning at the arena. Coming back from his neck surgery had been hard and the consistent string of injuries he'd had since he came back to an active roster were starting to take their toll. A little extra workout time never hurt anybody, he thought, throwing on an old "The Rock" shirt and pair of track pants. He'd headed out, perfectly aware of how exhausted he'd be until tomorrow night's show. Once show time hit, though, it was a different story. All the adrenaline, the excitement pumping through your veins. You heart going a hundred miles an hour as the crowd chanted your name....oh yeah. THAT was what he lived for.

Getting into his rental it only took him twenty minutes to get to the arena. He'd already called ahead to the night security people to let them know he would be on the premises and that he had a passkey. All he had needed them to do was unlock the main gate. Jumping out of the car, he grabbed his duffel from the seat beside him and made his way towards the weightroom. He was so caught up in his thoughts of ways to get the writers to let him have the title for a while that at first he didn't hear the music. Gradually his steps slowed, bringing him to the backstage entrance ramp...what would be transformed for the show into the ramp he would walk down. He slowly stuck his head around the corner, not wanting to startle whoever it may be. The music had stopped and he had thought whomever it was playing had heard him. Then the music began again. Adam leaned back around the curtain,straining to see who the person was. They were sitting on the far corner of the stage, facing him, partially hidden in shadow. Squinting he could just make out a feminine shape...no particulars like hair color or facial features were visible.

Suddenly she began to sing, a popular ballad he'd heard on the radio several times in the past month. Whoever this person was she could go into the recording business, no problem. Except for the fact that her voice was just a tad huskier and more mellow than the original artists', she was a dead ringer sound-wise. He was mesmerized by that voice, his bag dropped and forgotten at his feet as he stood listening to the emotion of the story she was telling.


I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my

Childish fears

And if you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

'Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone.

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I've held your hand through all of these years

But you still have.....all of me.


Adam wondered vaguely if she were singing the song because she had lost someone she loved, or because of it's popularity. It was beautiful and gut-wrenching, the way her voice reverbrated throughout the empty coliseum. He felt every ache, every word that was drenched in pain --- felt it as though he were the one experiencing it. For the first time since he'd woken from his operation and the realization that he may never wrestle again hit home, he felt the sting of tears behind his eyes. She continued, her voice never wavering.


You used to capitvate me

By your resonating light

But now I'm bound by the life you left behind

Your face, it haunts

My once pleasant dreams

Your voice it chased away

All the sanity in me

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I've held your hand through all of these years

But you still have.....all of me.


Molly came to her favorite part of the song, pouring all of her grief, her frustrations out into the one verse that seemed to fit her above all the others. Tears ran unchecked down her slightly flushed cheeks and her dark lashes fanned out, making smudges under her brilliant hazel eyes. She would have been mortified to learn she was still capable of shedding a tear over what Randy had done to her. When she sang this particular song she could pretend, at least for that short amount of time, that the tears she shed were because of the moving lyrics.


I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone

And though you're still with me

I've been alone all along


Adam moved, inching closer and closer to this woman, this person who had somehow sneaked past his carefully built defenses with her song and made him want to breakdown and cry. He could just make out a silhouette, too caught up in the music to even notice he was there.


When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears

When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears

And I've held your hand through all of these years

But you still have.....

All of me.


Molly sat, allowing the pain and exhaustion of the last five months to take over her tired body. She wept openly, without making a sound. She didn't hear the soft footsteps until the last minute and looked up, startled to see a vaguely familiar man standing there. Hurriedly, she wiped at her tears with the heels of her palms and stood. She looked up at him -- way, way up.She didn't even reach his shoulder, he was that much taller than her five foot four inch frame. Opening her mouth she began to apologize.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize anyone was here......" She moved to step around him and was startled when he placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"Don't be sorry....that was absolutely beautiful." Molly ducked her head shyly, a faint blush stealing across her cheeks. Still trying to move past him, Adam kept a firm hold on her arm. "Where did you learn to play like that?" Molly eased his fingers from her skin, the heat emanating from them seeming to scorch her. Taking a step back she shoved her hands into her back pockets, not meeting the intense green of his gaze.

"I picked a few things up here and there.....mostly just listened to other people play, then picked out what I thought sounded right." Adam noticed the soft southern drawl, and guessed that she must be a member of the local crew that Vince insisted on hiring wherever they went. His eyes swept over her quickly, taking in the ripped-at-the-knee, faded jeans she was wearing. The black t-shirt she wore had the words "Show No Fear" etched in red across the front of it where it pulled snugly against her breasts. Olive skin, with dark brown curls and brilliant hazel eyes completed his assesment.

"Well, I don't know much about music, but that sounded about as right as it could be." He gave her a signature toothy grin, holding out his hand. "I'm Adam. Adam Copeland." Molly glanced at his hand tenatively before grasping it with her own.

"Molly Holly."

"Really? Your name is Molly Holly?" She smiled for the first time, a tiny dimple appearing at the lower right corner of her mouth. Adam had an overwhelming feeling that she hadn't shown that dimple to many people lately.

"Actually, yeah. My dad wrote children's books and loved to have things rhyme." She chuckled, the sound oddly comforting coming from her. "I guess he figured naming me Molly Holly was a play on words that was just too good to pass up." Adam laughed with her, enjoying the unguarded expression on her face when she smiled. Stuffing his own hands into his pockets, he glanced down, almost shyly.

"So....you part of the set-up crew?" The smile still in place, Molly nodded. This guy seemed alright and she was a little more than slightly relieved that he hadn't been one of her bosses, ready to fire her for foolin' around.

"Yep. This is only my second year doing this, but it's fairly easy work." She gestured toward the neatly wrapped cords that she still had to put away. "Really it's mostly just setting up the ring and cleaning up after the regular guys." So she'd been doing this for two years now, huh? Adam frowned thoughtfully. She must've started when he'd first been out for necks problems. Molly took the frown to mean that she was boring him. Shoving an errant curl behind her ear, she started toward the piano again, unlocking the wheels to move the massive instrument. "Sorry, but I really should get back to work and I'm sure you've got something you need to be doing."

Adam shook his head, coming out of his reverie. "Actually, I couldn't sleep, so I was heading down to the weightroom..." He watched her quick and efficent movements as she pushed the piano into a room directly off the floor, locking the door as she came back out. She brushed her hands off on the seat of her jeans and graced him with a small smile.

"Insomnia, huh? I get that myself." A sarcastic laugh fell from her lips. "Though I imagine it's not for the same reasons." Adam arched an eyebrow in her direction, causing her to blush. "Sorry. I'm just rambling." She turned and grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder to set across her chest. "Well, uh, it was nice talking to you Mr. Copeland...."

Adam walked over, taking her hand between his and raising it slowly to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss across her knuckles and sending a shiver up Molly's spine. He chuckled. "Mr. Copeland? I'm not THAT much older than you, sweetheart You're what? Twenty-three? Twenty -four?" his gaze never wavered, locked with hers. "Call me Adam." Blushing furiously, both at the endearment and the feel of his lips on her skin,Molly withdrew her hand from his grasp and retreated a step, an action that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Uh, okay. It was nice talking to you....Adam." His smile brightened at the sound of his name falling from her lips.

"It was nice talking to you too, Molly Holly. Maybe I'll see you tomorrow night?" Molly's blush grew even brighter as she shrugged.

"Maybe. Have a good night Mr....Adam. Maybe we'll meet again sometime." She turned and hurried out the door, almost at a dead run as though the hounds of hell were on her heels. She stopped abruptly and turned to look at him once more. "And I'm twenty-seven." Watching her retreating figure he stood appreciatively staring at the gentle sway of her jean clad backside.

"Oh we'll meet again, Miss Holly. We'll definitely meet again."