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“How does it feel?”
Liv jumps from her hiding place, curled between two crates in some nondescript hallway backstage where she probably thought no one would find her. Rhea feels a rush of vicious satisfaction at the tear tracks on her cheeks and the slight crust of red blood dried around her nostrils that medical missed when they wiped her up.
“What do you want?” Liv snipes, a feeble attempt to muster her usual fire. None of it hits Rhea. All of that fire got beaten out of her in the ring by Raquel and Roxanne while the rest of the Judgement Day watched.
“I said, how. Does. It. Feel?” Rhea repeats slowly, accentuating each word with a careful, heavy step that echoes in the empty space. Liv doesn’t flinch, which Rhea will give her some credit for, but is more likely a symptom of how tired she is than some newfound courage. When it comes to fight or flight, Liv will always choose the coward’s way out. Even when they tag teamed all those years ago, Liv’s arms wrapped around her at the slightest startle outside of a match, her face getting buried in Rhea’s shoulder as she used her as a shield.
Rhea used to think it was cute. It used to make her feel strong and important, having Liv trust her to be her protection.
She used to feel bad about breaking that trust, in the bare moments right before she fell asleep in dark hotel rooms with Damian snoring in the other bed, the only time she let thoughts like that slip through. Now, she thinks Liv’s clinginess was less about trust and more about selfishness. Liv would’ve offered Rhea up on a platter eventually if it meant saving her own skin. She’s done much worse than that over the years.
Then again, she only did those things after Rhea offered her up, first.
“How does it feel to have everything you love ripped away from you?” Rhea asks, close enough now to loom over her. She fists a hand in her hair and yanks until Liv looks at her, wincing through the pain. For a split second dozens of memories layer over each other of Liv from that same angle. In some her face is bloody and her eyes unfocused from pain. In some she laughs, wild and manic. In some, her pupils are blown wide, begging for permission to touch.
“Look at you,” Rhea coos. “You have no title. You have no stable. Your pathetic little boyfriend left you for a younger, better model. Even your so-called “best friend” threw you out like the cheap trash that you are.”
“Fuck you,” Liv musters, and there it is, some of that old fire.
“We don’t do that anymore, sweetheart,” Rhea laughs, releasing her grip. Liv’s hand flies to the back of her head with a wince. Rhea probably just exacerbated a headache from a concussion, but she doesn’t really care.
“What do you even want?” Liv asks, curling in on herself again but giving Rhea a good glare. “Did you really seek me out just to gloat? Obsessed, much?”
Rhea crouches in front of her, bringing them level. She wants a clear view of Liv, to see every twitch of her mouth and tightening of her eyes.
“We both know that I’m not the one who couldn’t let go of a partnership that only lasted two months,” Rhea says, leaning closer.
“What’s that meme?” Liv asks. “I fell first, you fell harder?”
She smirks, and it feels more like the Liv that Rhea liked and then hated in equal measure than the Liv who was splayed out in an unmoving heap in the middle of the ring half an hour ago, Raquel’s boot pressing against her chest.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Rhea says, words dripping with as much condescension as she can inject into them. “Where will that be, by the way? You probably had a room booked with Dom-Dom for the night. Do you think he left it for you, or is he sharing it with Roxanne now?”
Liv’s entire face tightens, an effort not to let it fall now that she has an audience. It’s silly, really. Rhea has seen Liv in much more vulnerable positions.
“Fuck you,” she repeats, but her voice cracks and her bottom lip trembles. Rhea watches tears well up in her eyes with a pang of disappointment.
“Still not going to happen, honey.”
Liv tries to roll her eyes, but the effect is lost when a tear slips out and slides down her cheek. Rhea’s fingers itch with the urge to reach out and catch that tear.
“You still haven’t told me what you’re doing here,” Liv says, aiming for fire and missing by a mile. It’s odd to see her so subdued, especially when she was spitting with rage like an alley cat and ready to crash out the last time they saw each other. Of course, that was months ago, before her injury took her out of the game and the Judgement Day took everything else out from under her.
They didn’t waste time getting rid of Liv, not like they did with Rhea. Most of the pieces were in place weeks ago. Liv never stood a chance when she made her return to the ring tonight.
There was no love lost with anyone backstage. Rhea rushed to the nearest monitor as soon as she got a text from Damian asking if she was seeing what he was watching on a TV cities away, and she ended up sharing space with Iyo, Stephanie, Grayson Waller, and the New Day. She got there just in time to see Raquel slam Liv into the mat with a Tejana Bomb.
The beating was brutal. The New Day couldn’t stop whispering swear words and giggling to each other. At some point, Stephanie turned away, and then Iyo gave Rhea a long, considering look before leaving, too. She’s still not sure what expression her face was wearing to garner that response. She doesn’t even know what she was feeling as she watched the brutal beatdown: Roxanne’s fists flying, Raquel’s boot connecting with Liv’s ribs, Dominik standing against the ropes like he didn’t have a care in the world, JD’s cold mask, Finn’s gleeful smile. Rhea’s face had burned hot, either with vicious satisfaction or barely contained rage. It was like she was in the ring instead, but she couldn’t say if she was the one delivering the attack or receiving it.
It doesn’t quite feel like justice, but it does feel like karma. Liv took everything from her: her boyfriend, her family, her title. Now, she’s lost them all in one swoop: Roxanne slotted herself under Dominik’s arm as soon as she was done leaving Liv a bloody mess on the floor, the tag team titles at home firmly around Raquel and Roxanne’s waists, the rest of the Judgement Day raising their fists in victory while Liv’s blonde hair fanned out on the mat like the halo from a fallen angel.
The one thing Liv didn’t manage to take from Rhea was Damian. This time, Liv was left with no one.
She feels the slightest twinge at that, but Liv should’ve known better than to trust Raquel. Rhea learned that lesson long ago. It isn’t her problem that Liv keeps putting her trust in the wrong people.
“Maybe I did come here to gloat,” Rhea muses. “You can’t blame me. You blew up my life, so it’s only fair that I get to witness the same thing happen to you.”
Liv’s mouth twists. Rhea wants to dig her thumb into the side of it, pull back the lip to expose those pearly white teeth.
“Then why are you still here?” Liv asks. “Mission accomplished. You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted, and you got to rub my face in it. You can leave now.”
Rhea laughs, long and loud. Liv winces at the sound, a sweet added bonus.
“Livvy, when have I ever done what you wanted?”
The look that Liv gives her transports her right back to the brief few weeks when she did most things that Liv wanted, happily crumbling under a bubbly smile, teasing words, and sweet kisses. She’s done her best to forget about it, but as much as she tries to push those memories under piles and piles of more recent torment and hatred, Liv has a way of reminding her. It was a tactical mistake to think that she wouldn’t press that advantage right now.
She’s fighting back again, though. That’s good; Rhea needs her to do that.
She tilts her head, considering Liv carefully. She catches the way her eyes narrow slightly, the barest crinkle in her brow when she finally realizes that Rhea could’ve saved simple gloating for the ring, where she could feed off of the crowd’s energy and support. They don’t know each other in the same way they used to, but they still know each other better than most people. Hatred will do that.
“What are you really doing here?” Liv asks. Rhea grins in a way she knows shows all her teeth.
“I have a bit of a Judgement Day problem. So do you, it seems.”
Liv is a cornered animal being offered a scrap of food for the first time in a long time. Rhea just needs her to take it.
“What does your problem have to do with me?” she asks.
“Oh, Livvy,” Rhea says, clicking her tongue. “You can’t do this on your own, and I’m the only woman on this roster even considering helping you. Who else are you going to call?”
“Judgement Day has enemies,” she says. Rhea laughs.
“Who, AJ Styles? He’s only focused on the Intercontinental Title, he doesn’t actually care who is holding it. The Kabuki Warriors hate you just as much as they hate Raquel and Roxanne, and they’re too distracted by Iyo right now. None of the male tag teams are even close to Finn and JD’s level. If you want to take down the Judgement Day, I’m your only option for an ally. Unless you were going to lie down and take it, which…”
“Wait!” Liv says, hand shooting out to grip Rhea’s wrist and stop her from leaving. Rhea immediately twists out of it and shoves Liv back against the crate, arm an unyielding bar against her sternum. It punches the breath out of her.
“Don’t touch me,” she growls. Liv snarls and pushes against her with surprising strength given her earlier beating. It’s enough to put Rhea on the defensive for a moment, but she gets Liv with an elbow and then they’re wrestling in earnest in the small space, twisting around each other and grabbing and shoving against walls and floors and crates until Rhea slams Liv down, hips held under hers and shoulders pinned by her hands. Liv winces, and Rhea hopes it bruises. It isn’t fair that Roxanne and Raquel get to leave marks on Liv, but she doesn’t. Don’t they know that Liv was hers first?
“Are you done?” she asks.
“I fucking hate you,” Liv snarls. Rhea’s eyes catch on a spot on her lip that she must have bit as they tussled. Liv’s tongue pokes out to nudge at it.
“The feeling’s mutual,” Rhea says. When Liv simply glares, Rhea reaches out, brushing that wound on her lip with her thumb. Liv goes cross-eyed trying to track the movement, then her breath hitches.
Rhea’s hand shoots back to its spot on Liv’s shoulder, returning to safer territory. Liv raises an eyebrow and settles in, wiggling until she’s seemingly content to have Rhea looming over her. Rhea doesn’t know if it’s a front or not.
“Do you actually have a plan?” Liv asks. “Only one of us has successfully manipulated Judgement Day to this scale in the past, and it wasn’t you.”
“And they manipulated you right back. You aren’t in a position to gloat right now.”
Liv shifts her hips in challenge, and Rhea digs her nails into her shoulder until she winces and stops.
“Why don’t you just get your little girlfriend to help you?” Liv asks. “You don’t need me.”
“Leave Iyo out of this,” Rhea snaps. She only realizes her mistake when Liv lights up at having the pressure point confirmed.
“Judgement Day is our mess, not hers,” she continues before Liv can find a new jab to throw. “I helped create it and you turned it into what it currently is. We’re the ones who will take them down.”
“Rhea Ripley, taking accountability for her messes,” Liv muses. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“A lot has changed,” Rhea says. “I’m a better person than I used to be.”
Liv smirks up at her. “I’m not.”
In one large heave of limbs Rhea finds herself looking up at Liv instead, blonde hair tickling her face as the other woman leans over her.
“I accept your generous offer of help,” she says, leaning in further. “But the moment you screw me over, I’m going to destroy you again, and I’ll enjoy doing it.”
“You won’t get the chance,” Rhea promises, “but same to you.”
Liv’s nostrils flare. Rhea frees an arm and jabs her hard in the ribs, right where Raquel’s boot left its mark. Liv cries out and Rhea pushes her off, getting to her feet and taking the time to brush off her clothes while Liv attempts to get her breath back.
“You’ll be hearing from me, Liv,” she says, taking careful, measured steps backwards. No one with half a brain turns their back on a rabid raccoon, after all.
“I swear, Rhea, if this is a trick–” Liv wheezes. Rhea cuts her off with a scoff.
“Save that fire for the Judgement Day,” she says. “They’re the ones who left you humiliated and alone in the middle of the ring. I’m just the good Samaritan helping pick your sorry ass back up.”
Liv laughs this time, an unhinged, feral sound.
“Fuck you, Rhea!”
“For the last time, sunshine, it’s not going to happen, but you can keep dreaming.”
Rhea turns on her heel and leaves Liv on the floor, ignoring her curses echoing down the hallway. Despite the prickling under her skin, she doesn’t turn back. She can’t let herself.
They’ll destroy the Judgement Day, and then maybe she’ll finally be able to exorcise Liv from her soul, once and for all.