Leave the Memories Alone

This is my version of Ric's thoughts after his match with Shawn after WM. WARNING: If you're even the least bit squicky about so much as a mention of Chris Benoit, I would prefer that you did not read this fic. Of if you do, please do not flame me.

TITLE: Leave the Memories Alone

AUTHOR: Juliet3:16

EMAIL: , ,

RATING: PG

CONTENT: ADULT LANGUAGE, Mentions of a controversial character.

CATEGORY: ADULT, VIGNETTE, ANGST, DRAMA

SPOILERS: WrestleMania 24, reports on the unaired portions of the Hall of Fame ceremony.

SUMMARY: Ric Flair reflects after his last match.

DISCLAIMER: I own none of these characters.

DISTRIBUTION: , WWOMB, anywhere else, please ask.

NOTES: Thank you, Ric Flair, for 35 years of memories.

Leave the Memories Alone

'So this is what it's like to finally end one's career.'

That was the primary thought as Ric Flair sat alone in his lockerroom.

Right now, he preferred it that way. He had barely noticed the sad stares from his fellow superstars as he made his way back to the lockerroom, but noticed he had. Being a prideful man as he was, he wasn't sure if he could take people coming in to try and console him right now. To him it was bad enough that he had broken down emotionally in the ring after the match with Shawn Michaels was over. He wasn't sure if he could take being with a group of people at that moment in time.

Triple H understood. He promised he would keep people away from him for as long as Ric needed. Ric appreciated that. Of course Ric also knew that Hunter was still mad at him for even asking Shawn to take the match at WrestleMania and putting Shawn in that position in the first place. Hunter had called him arrogant for doing that.

Funny, nobody else had called him arrogant in awhile. Called him, old, past his prime, legend, but arrogant had been left off for long time now. Guess somewhere along the line arrogance became wisdom or something like that.

As much as he understood Triple H's anger, and what Shawn was going through being put in the position of being the one to end Ric's career at WrestleMania, Ric had his reasons. Shawn reminded Ric very much of how he used to be in terms of arrogance and ability. He also did not want to go out with somebody that was not putting 100 into his match the way Ric had put all of his self into his matches over the years. Ric knew that whether Shawn liked it or not, he would bring the very best he had to WrestleMania and though Ric lost, he knew Shawn had given Ric exactly what he wanted: 100 of himself. Above all else, Ric had picked Shawn because in various ways, Shawn's style reminded him a lot of the man who, in his heart of hearts Ric really wanted to have his last match with.

Chris Benoit.

He'd known he would catch hell for including Chris in his Hall of Fame speech. The WWE had more or less erased Benoit from wrestling history in the months following his death. A lot of people were afraid to even mention Chris' name in front of the McMahons, for fearing of a demotion or a firing. It had not surprised Ric that the production people really started urging Triple H to get Ric to wrap up his speech after he had mentioned Chris in conjunction with the Four Horsemen. Did he regret it? Hell no.

He wanted the fans to know that there were still some people in this business who still believed in Chris Benoit and his memory.

Ric sighed putting his head in his hands. Truth be told he'd know the end of his career was coming for months, especially after Chris' death and the horrific details that came out afterwards. Ric figured if Vince was going to force him to go out with a loss, then he was going to go out on his terms. That was why he wanted to fight Shawn at WrestleMania. He couldn't think of a better or biggest stage to go out swinging. He also figured if his career was over at WrestleMania he had nothing to lose for mentioning Chris Benoit when everybody else was scared too.

Ric heard the music from the tribute video the WWE had put together for him on RAW last week. He supposed it was the control room's way of calming the crowd down after the match. It was a touching video and he was happy with how it was. But to him, when he heard the song chosen, he found himself thinking more and more of Chris Benoit, than of anything else, including his career.

Sighing, Ric went to lean his head back against the lockers, intent on taking a few more minutes to himself before he showered and went to be with his family. His chance at quiet reflection was interrupted however, by a small thumping sound in the room. It probably would have gone unnoticed if it were not for the fact that Ric had been fairly sure he was the only person in the room. Pulling his weary body up from off the bench Ric went to investigate it. He would have a talk with Triple H about letting somebody get past him later. If it was Shawn Michaels, well, Ric more than understood why the younger man would seek him out.

If it was Triple H himself, Ric would kill him.

Ric headed for where he had heard the sound, which was in the direction of the shower area. Ric suddenly recalled Hunter telling him there were actually two exits to this particular room. One was the way Ric had come in and out, before, during, and after his match. The other was in the shower area. For some reason that recall was giving Ric a chill down his spine.

"Hello?" Ric called out, only vaguely noticing how tired and scratchy his voice sounded. Part of that was from the overall weariness he had been feeling for at least a good year or so, becoming more intense after the events of July. The scratchiness was obviously in large part due to the sobs he had shed in the ring after his match with Shawn.

"Who's there?" Ric asked, louder this time, putting more strength in his voice as he did so. He turned to reach for the light switch that would illuminate the currently dark shower room.

"Don't!" A voice echoed out from the dark abyss of the unused showers, the familiarity of it forcing Ric to pause over the light switch.

"Chris?" Ric whispered.

Nothing greeted his question, though Ric was certain that something was in the room with him.

"Chris, is that you?

Silence answered him back.

Ric stepped a little further into the dark cavernous area of the shower room. Standing still he let his eyes adjust to the area where he had heard the voice. He could have sworn he saw something turn to away from him.

"Chris wait!" Ric called out, sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that Chris Benoit was in there with him in some way of form. Whether it was the actual spirit of his friend or a hallucination, at that moment in time, Ric Flair did not care.

"Answer me something."

The shadow seemed to pause as if uncertain. Ric took a deep breath and prepared to plunge into the deep. Whatever happened next would either send him into a complete breakdown or soothe his tortured consciousness.

"Did you do it?" came the one question in unbidden that had haunted his thoughts since that June night.

For a long moment it seemed like once again only silence would greet him.

"Please, man, I need to know!" Ric pleaded.

A beat passed, then:

"What does your gut say Ric."

Ric almost stepped back, a large part of him having not even expected a response after asking the question in his mind for so long. Then he said exactly what he thought.

"That the man I knew would never do something as horrendous as what the police said he did."

More silence, then the Chris voice answered

"I think you have your answer." The voice responded, emotions seemingly laced in the response.

Tears were shed anew in Ric Flair's eyes as he felt he finally had the reassurance he had been looking for months.

"Don't leave the memories alone, Ric," Chris' voice said. "Sometimes that's all we have left."

Ric opened his mouth to ask what that meant when the main lockerroom door opened.

"Ric?" his wife, Tiffany called to him. "Me and the kids were getting worried."

Ric looked one last time in the darkness then stepped into the light main area of his lockerroom and hugged his wife tightly, feeling more at peace then he had in months.

Neither Flair heard the shower room door slam shut.

Um... Take that last sentence however you want. This is a one shot story.