The crowd was electric, buzzing with confusion and anticipation. I stood backstage, my heart thundering like it was trying to punch its way out of my ribcage. I rolled my shoulders once, adjusted the wrist tape, and looked at myself one last time in the mirror. Cody’s colors.
The deep red and gold shimmered under the lights, identical to the gear he wore at WrestleMania 41. Mine matched it seam for seam—like we were stepping into the ring together again. Not as enemies. As partners. I wasn’t here to destroy him. I was here to remind him. That he’s not alone. That I still believe in him. The opening chords of “Stand Up” by Fireflight hit the arena speakers, and the crowd popped loud enough to shake the walls. I walked out.
Spotlights swirled around me. The camera zoomed in as I stood at the top of the ramp, arms spread slightly at my sides like wings ready to unfurl. And for a split second, I let myself feel it—every scream, every cheer. Then I started down the ramp. I ignored the chants, the signs, the flashing lights. My eyes found what mattered most—front row, ringside. Mama Rhodes. Brandi. Liberty.
They weren’t cheering. They weren’t smiling. They were watching me with the kind of hope that’s fragile. Desperate. The kind of hope people cling to when they’ve got nothing left. I dropped to one knee in front of them, pulling my hoodie back so they could see my face. “Angel…” Mama Rhodes breathed, her voice trembling.
I took her hand in mine, held it tight. “I’m gonna bring him home,” I promised. “I swear to you—I’m not here to hurt him. I’m here to save him.”
Her eyes filled with tears as she reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear like I was her own daughter. “Then you be careful, sweetheart,” she whispered. “Because whatever’s gotten into him… it’s not our Cody anymore.”
“I know,” I said softly. “But he’s still in there. I can feel it.”
Brandi leaned in, voice hushed but fierce. “You’re the only one he might listen to. Just… don’t let him break you too, okay?”
I nodded. “If I fall, I’ll fall fighting for him. I’m not walking away. Not this time.”
Liberty—sweet, bright-eyed Liberty—looked up at me with her dad’s eyes. She held up her tiny fist like a warrior. “Punch the mean outta him.”
It broke me. Just a little. I chuckled through the burn in my throat and bumped her fist with my own. “I’ll do my best, kiddo.”
I gave them all one last look before turning back toward the ring. The steel steps clanged under my boots as I climbed in, the ref stepping back instinctively like I was made of something untouchable. I stood in the center of the ring, rolled my neck once, and looked up at the ramp. He’d come. I knew he would. And no matter how angry he was… no matter what darkness he brought into that ring… I’d meet it head on. Because Cody Rhodes is my best friend. And I promised I’d never leave him behind. Even if it meant I had to drag him, kicking and screaming, back into the light.
The lights in the arena dimmed as the unmistakable sounds of Cody's theme blasted through the speakers. But there was something different about it—darker, heavier, like it had taken on a life of its own. The familiar opening chords were distorted, twisted, making the crowd grow quieter, uncertain. My heart slammed in my chest. And then, I saw him.
He emerged from behind the curtain, but this wasn’t the Cody I knew. His gear, the bright whites I had always associated with him, were gone. In their place was a dark, foreboding combination of red, blue, and black. The very colors that seemed to absorb the light, swallowing any hope that dared to shine. My breath caught.
This was it. The moment I feared. He stepped forward, the confident swagger still in his step, but now it felt… wrong. This wasn’t my Cody. This wasn’t the man who had fought beside me for so long. This was someone else, someone consumed by darkness. He entered the ring, his eyes locking onto mine with a chilling intensity, and he smirked. “Angel,” he called, his voice low, almost mocking. “You just couldn’t stay out of my way, could you? This doesn’t concern you. This is my fight now.”
I stood tall in the ring, fists clenched, my heart a battlefield of its own. “It has everything to do with me, Cody,” I shot back, my voice steady despite the weight of the moment. “You’re my best friend. I won’t let you fall into this… this darkness.”
He laughed, but it wasn’t the carefree chuckle I remembered. This one had a bitter edge. “You should have stayed out of it. Because this time, there’s no saving me.”
The bell rang. And just like that, everything else faded away. The cheers, the lights, the world outside that ring—none of it mattered. It was just me and him, and this fight. We locked up in the center of the ring. I pushed against him, using every ounce of strength to try and force him back, but Cody’s strength was overwhelming. I wasn’t sure if it was the darkness taking over, but there was something more brutal in his movements now—more controlled, like he wasn’t holding back.
I tried to swing a punch, landing it to his ribs, but he barely flinched. My mind screamed for him to wake up, to snap out of it, but the man in front of me wasn’t the same. He wasn’t the man who’d shared laughter and secrets with me backstage. Then, like lightning, his arm shot out, and before I could react, I was slammed into the mat with a brutal Cross Rhodes. The world tilted, pain exploding in my chest. I gasped for air as I tried to push myself up, my body screaming in protest. But I wouldn’t give up. Not now.
The referee counted, his voice echoing in my ears.
“...Two…”
I clenched my teeth, forcing myself onto my hands and knees. The pain in my ribs flared again, sharp and unforgiving, but I refused to let it stop me.
“…Three…”
My vision blurred for a second, but I focused, pushing through the burn in my muscles. I wasn’t done.
“…Four…”
“Cody!” I shouted, my voice hoarse, but desperate. “This isn’t you! Come on, please! Fight it!”
He didn’t answer. He just stood there, his face cold, his eyes darkened with that same chilling look as before. He didn’t listen. I rolled out of the ring, using the ropes for support, and stumbled onto the apron, desperate for something—anything—to turn the tide. I yanked the apron up, my hands shaking slightly, and pulled out the kendo stick. The crowd’s roar drowned out everything, but I could feel the weight of their eyes. But my focus wasn’t on them. It was on Cody. The man I once considered a brother.
Before I could even react, he soared through the air, his body twisting into a Moonsault from the top rope, landing square on top of me, sending us both crashing to the ground. The impact was like a wrecking ball slamming into my chest. I gasped, my breath caught in my throat as I struggled to breathe, pain blooming across my ribs. Cody was up first, his face hard as stone. He was relentless. But so was I. I didn’t wait. I rolled, dodging his next move, and as his shoulder came into view, I swung the kendo stick, hitting him across the back with a sharp crack.
He grunted but didn’t fall. I hit him again, and then again, each strike harder than the last. He stumbled, finally dropping to one knee, but it wasn’t enough. I tossed the stick aside, my fingers still trembling, and I stepped back, eyes locked on his. “Cody,” I said again, my voice barely above a whisper but full of conviction. “You have to fight this. I’m still here. You’re not alone. Please…”
But the darkness in his eyes didn’t waver. If anything, it grew colder. The referee began his count again. “One… Two…”
I held my breath, my hands clenched into fists. I had to reach him. I could reach him.
“…Three…”
Cody pushed himself up, not a trace of hesitation in his movements. His eyes locked onto mine, as cold and unyielding as steel. “You should have stayed down,” he muttered, a cruel smile tugging at his lips.
“Not a chance.” My voice was shaky but defiant. I wouldn’t back down. Not now. Not when he was this close to me. He was still in there. I knew it.
I wiped the sweat off my brow, feeling the sting of bruises starting to form, the pain of my body fighting me, but I refused to let it break me. I stood up, pushing through the aching protests from my muscles. Cody didn’t wait. He charged at me, that kendo stick in his hand. The crowd chanted, urging him on, but I didn't hear them. I only heard my heartbeat and the sickening crack as he swung the stick.
I didn't give him the satisfaction. In one fluid motion, I ducked low, the stick whistling through the air just above my head, and I drove my shoulder into his midsection. A spear. It’s quick, brutal, and the impact knocked us both to the mat. For a moment, I couldn’t tell which of us was hurting more, but before I could think about it, Cody was already rolling away and popping back up onto his feet like a damn machine.
He was relentless. Before I could even get to my knees, I heard him grab something. The kendo stick. My heart races, and I can feel the weight of what’s about to happen. It’s like déjà vu—the sound of that stick slicing through the air. A moment later, I felt it.
CRACK!
Pain exploded down my spine. My breath caught in my chest, and I gasped, my body instinctively curling forward. I fought the urge to scream, but before I could react, Cody swung again, however this time I was ready.
I rolled away, the stick narrowly missing me by inches. I scrambled to my feet, heart hammering in my chest as my mind desperately tried to make sense of what’s happening. I spotted the ropes—my only chance—and I rushed for them, clutching the apron and yanking it up. The crowd roared, but it’s not their cheers that matter right now. It’s the way the cold steel of the barbed wire bat felt as I pulled it free from underneath the ring. It’s a weapon I’ve never used before, and I never wanted to. But with Cody standing in front of me, consumed by this darkness… I had no choice.
The barbed wire glinted in the harsh arena lights, and for a second, I hesitated. But there’s no time. Cody was already on me, the kendo stick raised high, ready to strike again. I lifted the bat just in time, the barbed wire catching his kendo stick with a clash that echoed through the arena. The impact was almost enough to knock the bat from my hands, but I held it tight, standing my ground.
“Cody,” I shouted, my voice breaking but full of desperate conviction. “Please! Snap out of it! I don’t want to do this! I don’t want to hurt you!”
His eyes narrowed, his lip curling into a cold smirk that sent a chill down my spine. He stepped closer, eyes locked on mine. “Too bad. I’m going to put you down for good.”
I felt a sick lurch in my stomach, the words cutting deeper than any physical blow. This isn't Cody. But I stood firm. I raised the bat slightly, showing him that I’m ready. “I won’t give up on you, Cody. You’re still in there. I know it.”
But his face was stone. He moved like a predator—efficient, fast, calculated. Before I could brace myself, he swung the kendo stick again, aiming for my head. I dodged left, my body moving on instinct. But this time, I don’t just retreat. I moved fast, slipping behind him with a precision that surprises even me.
With no time to think, I brought the barbed wire bat down, its jagged edges scraping across his back with a sickening thud. The crowd gasped, a collective intake of breath, and I could feel the weight of their eyes on me. It’s a clean hit, but not as hard as I could’ve done.
Cody stumbled forward, the pain clearly registering as blood started to trickle from the gashes left by the barbed wire. I felt my heart break at the sight, and my breath faltered. I never wanted it to come to this. I wanted him back—the real Cody. The one who shared laughter and memories with me. But I coil;dn’t deny the reality in front of me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice cracking, and I stepped back, trying to regain control of the situation. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
The crowd was on their feet now, some cheering, some stunned into silence. My focus was on Cody—on the man who stood before me, bloodied but not broken yet. His back arched as he slowly turned toward me, his hand clutching at the wound. His eyes flickered with that same cold fury. “You made a big mistake, Angel.”
My heart shattered at the words, but I didn't back down. My stance was firm, my grip on the bat tight, ready. “I won't give up on you.”
And for a brief second, I think maybe he hesitated, maybe he heard me. But then that cold, cruel smile crossed his lips again, and I knew that this is far from over. I couldn’t stop him—not yet. But I’d keep fighting, because I believed in him. Even if he didn’t believe in himself anymore.
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