*POV: Betsy Granger*

“Only one can survive.”

The mantra plays over and over in Betsy’s mind as she considers the tag match she now finds herself in. Another shot at the Left Hand was always a welcome invitation, but it dawned on her that she still knew very little about her partners, Evan Blane and Shawn Wylde. As she continued to tinker with some of the mechanics on the inside of her newly built TARDIS, she began to consider her strategies.

She knew that the other members of RMI had as much a score to settle with the Left Hand as she did. She cringes as guilt gnaws at her belly as she remembers signing Romeo’s contract in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t that she regretted securing this alliance; It was the face of Eddie Walker that flashed in her mind whenever she thought back on it. She knew he would eventually find out and she didn’t want him to hear about it second hand. Unable to shake the feeling of betrayal, she forces her thoughts forward.

Another unpleasant thought replaces the last: The malicious sense of humor of the bookers. The Left Hand vs. RMI looked good on paper until you actually read the stipulations. Only one can survive, of course, it was to be elimination. Meaning that she, Blane, and Wylde would have to work together to defeat the Left Hand quickly.

Turning on one another wasn’t an option, yet it seemed like the unavoidable conclusion. The Left Hand had their faults, but they were a unit. As long as they kept drinking the Kool-Aid Cocktails, they would do whatever The Baphomet commanded of them. They would undoubtedly use their strong loyalty to their leader as a driving force. Despite her revulsion towards the core values of the groups’ mission, she couldn’t deny the strength of the Baphomet’s influence. As it had done so often over the last week, her hand automatically touches the hand-shaped bruise on her neck.

As the image of his eyes burning through hers, into her soul and searching around unbidden haunted her once again, she fell into the seat and started to tremble. It wasn’t that he had gone around digging that had disturbed her the most… It was the fear of being searched so intimately and the unwanted thrill that had rushed through her in the moment. For those few moments, she could see the quick way to power through the darkness. Her body shakes violently and her heartbeat rapidly, betraying the dark pleasure trying to creep its way back in through the memory.

“No… He can’t have me. I won’t let him. I am not the darkness, I am the light.”

She whispers this over and over as panic attempts to lock her in a vice grip. Desperately, she begins to see the faces of those worth fighting for and begins to whisper their names out loud.

“James. Papa. Addy. Adam. Elizabeth. Atty. Shawn. Noah. Jackson. Tasmin.”

Little by little, the dark temptation subsides as memories full of love and laughter calm her heart and mind. She looks around the massive engine room of her mad creation. Having taken the Bill and Ted phone booth from Warstein’s garage, Betsy had given it a paint job so that the outside was a dark purplish-black. The inside, however…

Despite the much smaller dimensions, the inside was impossibly large. It was lit with natural starlight, the engine pumping away merrily as the center focus of the room. Large glittery silver baubles cover the walls, acting as reflectors for the light, keeping everything cheery. A large computer screen sits over the console, which is filled with buttons and levers. Everything about the room is awe-inspiring, yet cozy and warm.

As her mind finally wanders back to the match at hand, she’s hit with a sudden spark of inspiration. If she was worried about the unity of her team, perhaps a little team building activities were just the ticket. And she had just the idea. First calling both her tag partners, she tells them to pack training bags and dress for combat. Once she hangs up with them, she grins and picks up a much different communicator. This one looks more like a comlink. She speaks into it, calling for the party at hand. Once they respond, she fills them in on her request, to which they are quick to accept. With a grin, Betsy twirls around the engine console, pushing buttons as she goes along. Smiling widely, she sets the course to pick up her partners. Blane bows out, apologizing that he had other business to attend to. With a farewell full of understanding, she flips the switches and heads to the Italian villa of Shawn Wylde.

*POV Shawn Wylde*

Shawn, after spending the morning in a locker and intimidated into eating a sandwich left by Bobby Bourbon sits quietly on the couch in the RMI compound in Florence. He gathers his thoughts of the day while sipping on a glass of whiskey and trying not to let his experience that morning get to him. “I’m better than this... I just took on the champ and the number one contender and almost came out on top.” Shawn finishes the glass of whiskey and stands up from the couch, walks into the kitchen, and places the glass in the sink. “This isn't high school man, get yourself together.”

He smacks himself in the face a couple of times and walks to the front door, opening it and stepping outside into the warm Italian sun. He takes a deep breath and the realization of what went down last night actually sets in. Shawn had stood his ground against the two top members of the XWF in what might as well have been a handicapped match. “I wonder how Finn's knee is, Page really did a number on him.” Shawn sits down in a rocking chair on the front porch. “What would have happened if I had made contact with that chair? He's not the type of guy you wanna make an enemy of.”

The past however was the past and he now had to look to the future. The Left Hand had taken their shots at him and Tommy week after week since their arrival, and in two weeks there was a chance at some real payback. “It's not Marf…. But it's good enough to start.” Rage still burned inside of him from his debut when Overton brought the chair into the ring and cost him the match. Fury still burned inside from the threats against Renee. The stipulations though would require him to face off against his own teammates after they had dealt with The Left Hand, so handling things quickly would be the best course of action. The three of them had held their own together while rescuing Betsy the night before but how would they work together in a more organized fashion? I've worked alongside Evan before. Shawn thinks back to Backyard Brutality when he had made the high jump onto Evan. He was a rookie back then and if Evan had not taken the bump he did then Shawn would have been severely injured.

Betsy was going to be the wildcard. She could clearly handle herself but how would they work in the ring together? There was one thing Shawn was absolutely sure of and that was no matter who it was that finished the match. It was going to be someone from his side having their arm raised after the three count. He rocks himself in the chair on the porch and takes in a deep breath of the fresh air closing his eyes as the stress of the day seemingly melts away.

A ruckus can be heard from inside the house which brings Shawn to his feet in an instant and bounding towards the front door. Shawn slams the door open and rushes in to find a Phone Booth now sitting in the middle of the sitting area. “What the fuu?” Before Shawn can finish the thought Betsy appears from inside. “Huh Wha? How.. I'm not packed yet! I wasn't expecting you for a while still.” Shawn scratches his head. “Where did this thing come from? Am I losing it? I swear this wasn't.” Shawn approaches the phone booth as Betsy stands in the doorway. “JOJO! What is this? I thought you left last night… Stop messing with me. Does the phone work in that thing?” Shawn looks to Betsy for an answer, before rudely pushing past her into the phone booth. His jaw drops and he steps back out, looking the phone booth up and down in astonishment. “It’sIt's bigger on the inside….. Sh-Should I bring my mask? I’ll be right back.” Shawn runs off to his room to quickly gather his things before returning to Betsy in the living room a huge grin on his face. “I know exactly what this is…. Let's roll.”


Mixed POV

“So uh… Where exactly are we going?” Wylde asks, once his shock subsides. He meanders over to where Betsy stands at her control console and stares down at all the buttons.

“Well… I phoned in a favor to an old friend. I hope you remembered the sunblock I told you to pack because you’re going to need it where we’re going.” She flashes him a mysterious grin as she spins a knob around with flourish.

“So, does this beauty have a name?” Wylde asks, finally letting his excitement get the better of him.

Betsy nibbles on her lip as she considers this. “I’ve been calling her Excellence. Because she is.” She runs a hand over the navigation wheel. “Truly my finest creation to date. And a mark of how good I really am.” She grins indulgently at Wylde. “I don’t mean to brag, but I’ll allow myself this one time.”

“You’ve earned it for sure,” Wylde remarks, glancing at Granger with frank admiration.

She smiles modestly and shrugs, unsure of how to reply. Wylde goes silent for a while, attempting to take it all in. Eventually, he sits down hard, his eyes wide, body trembling slightly. Noticing, Betsy sets the autopilot and joins him. She pats his shoulder gently.

“You okay? I know the first time can be a bit much,” she says softly.

“I know what I’m seeing… It’s the belief I’m struggling with. This shouldn’t be… But here I am. And here it is.”

Betsy grins and hits a few buttons on the console before walking towards the doors. She turns back to Shawn as she reaches them. “Would you like to see something awesome that will completely shatter your belief system?”

The Whyte Spider gapes at the Impossible Traveler. He nods and Betsy opens the doors wide. Before them is space: To their right, a star is in its earliest stages of formation. To the left, a quasar blast is going off, mercifully in the opposite direction. All around them are star systems filled with planets, full of unknown life. Wylde is speechless, sitting down hard in the doorway. Betsy leans against the other door and points to a bright planet in the distance.

“That’s where we’re headed. We’ll be there as soon as you've finished taking in the view.”

Turning on her heel, Betsy heads back up the ramp and contacts her friend. He responds, letting her know he’s ready for them any time. With a smile, she watches as Wylde sits and just takes in everything for several minutes. Memories of her own days as a new traveler flood back; even now, the thrill of new sights and sounds, the new ground under her feet… It was an addiction, one she never planned to kick. Consumed by her thoughts, she jumps slightly when Wylde taps her shoulder.

“I’m good now, Bets. Thanks for this, it’s… There are no words.”

Betsy nods knowingly and smiles gently. “It’s a lot, but I know the thrill. Wait until you see what’s coming next.” Setting the coordinates, Excellence comes to life and starts to beep and shake. “Hang on to something, it’s about to get bumpy!” Betsy shouts, gripping the navigation wheel. Wylde stumbles and reaches out desperately for anything to hang on to. After several moments, Excellence finally finds her mark and they land. Shawn is slower to his feet than Betsy, who sprints towards the doors and throws them open, peaking out. She closes them slightly and turns back to Shawn with a beam.

“We’re here. Come have a look.” Without another word, she skips outside and is immediately heard yelling. “Dank farrik, I forgot how rough this sand was!”

Shawn makes his way out through the doors and looks around at the vast desert before him.

“Um… Betsy… How is thi…” Wylde begins, but he stops dead when he looks towards the sky. Two suns. Looking around again, he notices Betsy heading towards what could only be described as a school. Rushing to catch up, he’s near breathless with excitement, his eyes wide. “Betsy… Are we where I think we are?”

Without replying, Betsy turns to him and smiles mysteriously. They’ve reached the door of the school and the sounds of younglings training inside can be heard. Betsy gives three firm knocks and steps back. A moment later, a man dressed in black answers. He is young, but his eyes give away the wisdom and power he possesses. His demeanor is calm and his face is kind as he regards his guests. He and Betsy look to one another and bow respectfully before he holds out his gloved right hand. Betsy takes it and they hug tightly. Meanwhile, Shawn is bouncing on his toes, unable to contain his excitement and shock. Betsy turns back to him, her emerald eyes lit up.

“Shawn… I’d like to introduce you to Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.”


**Unknown Amount of Time Later**

In his excitement at the situation, Shawn Wylde set up his phone to record. As they train, it streams live via most social media for the world to see.

Sweat pours from every inch of Betsy’s exhausted body. On her left, Shawn is also shallow-breathed and drenched from the heat and exhaustion. As promised, Luke had been merciless in their training. For hours now, they’d been working on a team technique, a way to flow their strengths and weaknesses together. As he commanded their movements, Master Skywalker preached about the importance of unity and the dangers of being seduced to the Dark Side.

“With all due respect, Master Skywalker, the Left Hand aren’t exactly Sith Lords. There’s way more than two and they don’t have the Force to tap into.” Wylde says.

Luke turns on him and approaches him swiftly. “Perhaps not,” muses the young Jedi Master. “But they are a force to be reckoned with if Betsy considers them a threat. It doesn’t matter if the enemy is a Force wielder, a cultist, an Imperialist, etcetera. They must be considered a threat at all times and it is the job of those like the three of you to keep the balance. For every bit of darkness in the universe, there’s a light that shines brightly, no matter how small the flame might seem.”

Betsy smirks as she repeats the set of motions that she and Shawn have been working on for hours. “I wouldn’t consider them a threat-”

Luke is in her face in a flash. “Then why did you come here? Why did you seek my help if you don’t consider the task at hand to be a challenge?”

Betsy has the grace to flush and look ashamed. “My apologies, Master Skywalker, I meant no disrespect.”

Luke regards the two of them carefully before nodding his head, making a silent decision. He points to Excellence and looks to Betsy. “That thing can travel anywhere, you said?”

“Through time and space,” Betsy says proudly, puffing out her chest a bit.

“Good. I want to take the two of you somewhere. I think I know exactly what you need.”

**One Awkward Trip Later**

Luke walks briskly from the TARDIS with a gaping Betsy and Shawn in tow. Shawn has resumed the stream, even though he’s trembling like a leaf.

“Dagobah.” Betsy gasps, looking around at the wild jungle swamp. Dread pierces her heart as she realizes the undertaking ahead.

If Betsy is in a state of shocked marvel, Shawn has become slightly panicked. He quickened his pace to match Luke’s and looked up at him anxiously. “Please tell me you aren’t taking us to the cave.”

“How do you know about that?” Luke inquires, giving Shawn a stern look.

“What do you mean, it’s in the movies of course!” Shawn blurts out and is rewarded with a confused gaze from Luke.

Betsy comes forward and gently touches Luke on the arm. “I’ll explain another time. But I have to agree with Shawn on this one… I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

Luke pats Betsy’s hand gently with his left hand. “Trust me, Skips. I can sense the doubt and rage in him.” He points to Shawn. Then he touches Betsy’s cheek gently and closes his eyes. “And I can sense the fear and temptation towards the darkness in you.” Betsy takes in her breath so quickly, it’s almost a hiss. Luke opens his eyes and they are warm as he stares into hers. “You are both strong, I sense that too. But facing your fears and letting go of your fear and anger is the only way you’ll succeed in this quest.”

Before they know it, they reach the entrance of the cave. Luke halts and turns to face the two of them. “The two of you must go in there to conquer your fears together. When you strip down to your most vulnerable selves in front of one another, there’s nothing anyone else could do to tear you apart. No outside source will shake the foundation you will create. Now go.” Luke gestures. “I’ll wait for you here, but you must do this on your own.”

Shawn knowing what lies ahead cowers a bit but decides to be the first to walk in, he looks back over his shoulder as he reaches the mouth of the cave. “Well are you coming?” and disappears inside.

Betsy holds back for a moment. She spins towards Luke, her green eyes full of fear. “He can’t see what’s inside, he’ll never trust me.” Her voice trembles, tears spilling from her eyes.

Luke gently takes her hands and closes his eyes. Closing her own, she can feel Luke connecting with her through the Force. Her breath catches in her throat when for just the slightest of milliseconds, she could feel his power. She pulls away, gasping, eyes wide as Luke regards her, his expression giving away nothing.

“Go, Skips. Trust in yourself, and allow yourself to trust your partner.” He gently turns her towards the cave and gives her a nudge forward.

As soon as the Impossible Traveler enters the numbing cold begins to grip her. When she looks down, her white training gear is gone and she is in a floor-length black gown. A black train runs down her golden hair attached to a crown of thorns that sits ominously like a dark halo. She blindly stumbles through the thick vines and roots in search of Evan Blane and Shawn Wylde, her bare feet getting scratched and muddied. Gasping with fear, she turns desperately in a circle on the spot, trying to figure out where she is. Another rotation and the distinctive flickering of flames invites her through an arch. Having caught every bit of her attention, Betsy doesn’t notice when Shawn comes in from the clearing; nor does she hear him when he begins to walk her way, calling out. Confused, he decides to follow her.

Entranced, Betsy glides over and enters through the arch. It’s a brightly lit eutopia of white lilies and cherry blossom trees. Jarring is the center of the clearing, where an altar is set. Standing before it is The Baphomet, holding out his hand towards her. His eyes are warm and the smile on his face is deceptively inviting.

“The bride arrives.” He says reverently as the rest of his followers pile out from behind him and stand on either side of the path. Ash and Geri begin throwing the petals of blacks roses while Tula fusses with her thorny crown and Lycana gently smooths out her train. Frozen like a deer in the headlights, Betsy looks around her, confusion creeping in.

“You’ve got the wrong girl.” She replies, her voice a million miles away. Marf approaches her from her left and puts a hand gently on her shoulder. Betsy tenses, but Marf gives her a friendly smile and urges her forward. Baphomet holds out both his hands now and Betsy takes them as she approaches him. They’re cold to the touch and she gasps, trying to yank them away, but Baphomet quickly captures them. He pulls her closer, studying her intently; he twirls one of his fingers into a silky golden lock, another runs itself down her cheek.

“At last,” he murmurs, putting an arm securely around her waist and facing them both towards the altar. Unlike their initial touch, his hands burned like fire wherever they landed on her. His hand creeps up and down her back, rubbing it gently as a priest in a black shroud comes from another entry from deep within. The Left Hand forms a protective semi-circle around the couple as the priest jumps right into the rituals of the Dark Marriage. Melting into the touch of the Baphomet, Betsy gladly performs her part of the marriage, repeating when told.

Before too long, the ritual ends and it was time to bind their words with the kiss. Unable to hold himself back any longer, Baphomet pulls her in and kisses her greedily. At first, she responds willingly, but as it continues, the chill begins to seep back into her stomach. She begins to struggle against his touch, but he holds her even tighter. Images begin to flash, dark and dangerous, luring her to a path she didn’t want to take.

“No,” she gasps and finally frees her face from his grip. Her gasp turns to a scream as she takes in the Baphomet, who has transformed into a demon with a goat-shaped head and burning red eyes. The smile on his face was full of dark humor as he captured her in his grasp again. Failing to catch her lips, he buries his face in her neck and begins tracing skin-crawling kisses up her neck and to her ear. He whispers to her, a low growl full of menace.

“It’s much too late to say no, my darling. You belong to me now.” He begins to cackle as Betsy begins to scream.

“NO!” She shrieks defiantly, finally tearing herself from The Baphomet. The other members of the Left Hand are ready for her, however, and grab her, pushing her back towards their leader. He tries to grab her, but she tears the train from the crown and uses it to block his vision. During the momentary confusion, Betsy tears the thorn crown from her head and throws it into the flames.

Snarling, The Baphomet reaches for her, his face no longer friendly or warm. Desperate, she grabs a handful of blazing hot coals and flings them wildly towards the Left Hand. During the bedlam, Betsy tries once more to push her way free but is once again caught roughly by The Baphomet. Screaming, she struggles wildly.

“You can’t have me! You can’t have my soul! I’m not yours… I’ll never be yours!” She shrieks, clawing at him wildly.

“Granger! Calm down Granger, it’s me!” A familiar voice calls out to her as someone once again attempts to grab her.

Meanwhile/Same Time

Shawn, believing he has gotten off easy wanders towards what he believes to be the exit of the cave. “This way I’ve found the way out!”

He shouts wandering towards the light but the closer he gets to the light the darker it gets behind him. He looks back, seeing only darkness, no Betsy. “ Shit..Shit...Shit.. Betsy!?” Shawn turns around and takes off now into the darkness running back towards where he thinks he’s left her. The light that was once in front of him now also fading into darkness till he stands there alone completely. “What have I done?” He whispers.. “I never should have come in here… You know better than this Shawn.” He turns around once again deciding to head back towards the light but finding it no longer exists. “Oh god. Which way?”

Shawn in a panic begins running back towards the original direction of the light or so he thinks. There is nothing to guide him, nothing for him to go on only blackness. “Which way? You never should have turned back. But you couldn’t leave her here by herself you know that.” His own voice seems to echo in his ears. “You're losing it, Shawn… Just like you lost her in the cave. You shouldn’t have second-guessed yourself.” His own voice only grows louder as he turns in circles trying to understand where he went wrong. “The light was the way. Or was it? I came from this way.. Or did I?” Shawn sits down in place on the soft damp ground under him, it’s comfortable but it begins to dampen his pants. “Why can’t you make up your mind Shawn? What do you want? Who are you going to be? Are you a coward or a Champion?” He now sits quietly the doubts inside of him speaking directly to him from the darkness itself. “ I am the Whyte Spyder!” He responds, frustration now setting in.


“I am the protector of all whether they need it or not!” Shawn opens his eyes a small glimmer of light appearing off in the distance. “I am a future Universal Champion!” he shouts into nothingness and stands up taking off in a full-on sprint away from the light and into the darkness. “Betsy! I won’t leave you alone here!” The cave is suddenly illuminated around him and Shawn finds himself barreling directly towards a figure but before he can slow himself the figure opens its arms and catches him stopping him in his tracks. “I thought I’d lost you,” Shawn says knowing it was her that grabbed him. “I know who I am now, The way out is this way.” Shawn grabs Betsy by the hand and begins leading her out of the cave.

“Wait!” Betsy puts her weight down and Shawn turns back to her. She points in the opposite direction. “We came from there.”

“How can you be sure?” Shawn asks, scrutinizing her carefully.

Betsy gives him a reassuring smile and gently urges him to follow her. “Look. Our footprints are in the dirt and there’s crushed foliage.”

“Right…” Wylde nods and follows Betsy. They help each other through the cave, both of them exhausted and lost in their thoughts. Finally, Betsy turns to Shawn.

“Do you think you can still trust me? You saw what I saw…” She looks away in shame, her eyes filling with tears.

His expression is shocked. “I could ask you the same, Bets.”

She turns her head to reply, but they’ve reached the entrance. Luke is still there as promised and stoically takes in their haunted expressions. Emerald eyes that typically glow with mischief are drained dull marbles. Wylde’s face was drawn and pale and he was trembling like he had chills. Without a word, Luke hands them both thick, woolen robes and leads them to a cheery fire crackling away in another clearing. R2D2 beeps a happy greeting to them from across the way, plugged into his charger. The smell of food cooking hits their noses and both of them perk up slightly. Holding in a smile, Luke directs them to stones that act as chairs. Before long, everyone is settled into their meal. Luke allows the silence to carry on, watching as Betsy and Shawn contemplate what they saw in the cave.

After some time, Betsy rises suddenly and heads towards Excellence. She looks over her shoulder to where Luke and Shawn have also risen, both looking surprised. “I’m leaving. I have to get off this planet.” Without another word, she steps inside and waits for the men as she plays with the switches.

Eventually, Shawn slumps inside, looking a bit downtrodden. Luke follows, eyeing Betsy sternly as R2D2 enters behind him, chirping ominously. Both men attempt conversation, but Betsy is having none of it.

After dropping Luke off, she sets the coordinates. Once again, Wylde attempts to break the silence.

“I trust you, just so you know.”

Betsy twirls around on her toes and gives him a thunderous expression. “Should you, though? You saw what I saw… There’s something inside of me that wants to give in to him. Despite all the good I have in my life and the bright light of my future… There is something so delicious about the power of the darkness he carries.”

“For what it’s worth, I get that.” Wylde shuffles from one foot to the other nervously. “It’s why I let my hero-complex block me from doing what’s right sometimes. It’s why I continue to get attacked and knocked back down. But Betsy…” He looks at her with determination in his eyes. “You don’t need a hero to save you from the darkness. Just like I don’t need to rescue everyone just because I think they need help. We have what it takes to save ourselves, and we’re both strong enough to do it. I won’t allow the Left Hand to have the XWF, and you’ll never allow The Baphomet to have your soul; Neither of us will ever raise the Left Hand.”

Listening to his words intently, Betsy finally nods. “It’s going to be a long battle and this is merely our start. But we have a message to send… And I trust you too. So I say we start showing the Left Hand what it means to mess with a stronger unified faction.”

Before another word could be spoken between them, Excellence lands in the center of Shawn’s living room. He gets out reluctantly and turns back just outside of the doorway.

“Could we possibly do this again?” He asks hopefully.

Betsy considers him for several moments. “We’ll see.” She says. With that, the doors shut and Excellence begins to groan as she vanishes. Wylde shakes his head in disbelief, looking around his Italian villa and trying to comprehend what had just happened...

FORMER