OOC: Formatting in the morn



Step 5: To admit to oneself and another the flaws held within.

80 hours prior to the “Tokyo National Bank incident” Rehab

“So, how's it been?"

Ned sat across from Amy beside the circle of chairs after the meeting's end, softly scratching at a coffee stain on the table, left by someone's careless, leaking cup. The soft hum of cheap, electrical lighting buzzed above them as Ned picked up his cup of water, trying to decipher her body language. Amelia looked drained even though she was visibly less pale than the last time they had spoken. She scratched the tip of her nose with her thumb, flicking it upward slightly before snorting.

“Sober... eight days, I think?” She muttered, obviously avoiding eye contact as she mulled over how best to approach the subject on both their minds, “I still have the stash under my mattress. I know you told me to toss it, but... sue me.”

Sighing, Ned dragged his hand down his cheeks, letting the friction of his skin softly pull down as he reached his chin. A lifetime of just tending to himself hadn't made him feel particularly adept at handling this situation and the unique case of Amelia especially made things more difficult. He could tell she was capable of getting better, yet she seemed to repeat behaviors that so often led to ruin. But he believed she could improve despite it all. She regarded him with equal parts annoyance and understanding

“You already know what I'm going to tell you,” he admitted, flatly, noticing her sneer in response, shaking her head. Amy had heard every cliche advice you can give an addict and she wasn't about to accept it just because the same ol' drivel came from Ned this time

“Nope. No can do. I'm not pouring them or throwing them out,” She drew her line in the sand, crossing her arms and sinking into the plastic seat that held her.  She shook her head, growing increasingly aggravated as she stewed on the thought to herself.

“But having them there is a horrible idea,” Ned stressed, as he pushed his hands together, flat. He'd noticed her eyes began to water, “You around them is a ticking time bomb.”

“You think I don't know that?!” She snapped, her gaze firmly matching his until she looked down, trying to calm down. For all of her flaws, she was trying to make this work.

“I have... a history with stuff harder than alcohol. There are some hella powerful shit out there in New York if you're looking for it and... when I quit it, I couldn't be in the same room. Not for a second. I haven't even slept in my bed because I know getting near those bottles is a bad idea. So, can you trust me on this one?”

While painful, Ned ultimately understood. It was best not to put her too close to that kind of temptation. Still, he was lying to himself if he claimed that the arrangement made him comfortable.

“Could a friend... or anyone come pick it up while you're not home?" He asked, trying to find a solution that would ease his brewing dread

Amelia gave him a very matter of fact look, not justifying the question with a spoken answer.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, rolling his eyes before taking a pen out of his jacket pocket and grabbing a sticky note, scribbling a phone number down on it. Only now did Amy really notice the circles under Kaye's eyes, deep and sunken, yawning before handing the note to her.

“I already have your number. I don't need it again,” She said, preparing to crumple it in her palm.

“I know. That's my... girlfriend's number. If I can't answer, she'll know how to reach me. I don't feel comfortable leaving you around alcohol unless you can at least reach me reliably.”

She reassessed the bags under his eyes, smirking, “Not getting enough “sleep,” huh?”

Ned gave her a humorless look, not appreciating her smug grin and insinuation.

“My sleep schedule is kinda fucked right now because she and I are about to go on a trip. Different time zones. It’s work-related, but we'll make the most of it.”

“Well, have fun flying halfway across the world to still just get dropped on your skull,” her words were sarcasm-saturated, but Ned knew they were mostly sincere. It wasn't her fault that she had to be behind ten different layers of deception to feel comfortable.

Well, not solely her fault.

Ned chuckled and responded, “thanks,” as he lifted himself up, heading towards the exit, but not before reminding her.

“Remember, if you're struggling with sobriety at any point, just call or text. I'll be there as soon as I can.”

His hand pressed the glass exit door as she called out.

“Wait.”

Ned looked back, tilting his head as she stood up, looking about as earnest as he had ever seen her. It was... unsettling to a degree.

“It gets easier... right? To stay away?”

Ned grit his teeth silently, giving a slight smile as he nodded.

“Just takes time.”

The two stood there, silently for a moment until Ned finally stepped out, the door closed softly behind him.

---

21 hours prior Hotel

Ned pushed the large, bulky door to his hotel room open, gripping the metal handle to carefully close it. It was more extravagant than he wished, but Theo Pryce was never the kind of man to pay for modesty. Meeting up with the team was... informative, if draining. Making his way past the narrow entrance, he stepped out into where the hotel room really expanded, standing across from the window, a large television with some goofy Japanese game show playing over it and the bed, immensely soft, fluffy, white, and currently occupied by Darcy Ellis, happily stretched across it as she smirked up at Ned.

“Y'know, I always thought wrestling was a bit goofy, but I gotta admit, this is the way to live,” She did her best to sink into the nigh-infinite plushness of the sheets as she spoke, causing Ned to smile as he sat on the bed, taking his shoes off, exhaling an exhausted puff of air.

“How was the planning session? I'm not a mind reader or anything, but it's looking...” Darcy parsed politely for a political parlance, “less than perfect.”

Falling backwards onto the bed,  Ned stared at the ceiling, his eyes scanning over the little imperfections lying above. That was all his days felt like occasionally. Just inspecting a million different things to list out all the flaws in his head.

“You could say that. They're a... handful. Especially Mark,” Ned admitted, glancing up at the TV, seeing a gaijin get drenched in apple sauce.

“I warned you,” she verbally pat herself on the back, “the guy's a jerk.”

Ned rolled his eyes a little, managing to be visible despite laying down, “Sure, he's got a history-”

“-of being an asshole.”

“But he's fully capable of turning things around, Darce-”

“Yeah, and becoming an asshole who sits on a high horse he didn't even climb to mount.”

“C'mon!” Ned sat up chuckling a bit in awe as he shook his head, “you know that's unfair! Neither you nor I have a perfect track record, but Flynn can't be redeemed? Why?”

Darcy reclined on the pillow pile behind her, “Because we actually care about the consequences of our actions. We think about what happens later. I know you put a lot of stock into Theo's words here and that you're wanting to believe the best in people, but Flynn will NEVER try earnestly.”

“Then why look into that bank robbery he ended up intercepting plans to?” Ned shot back, defiantly and frustratedly.

Darcy shrugged, frowning a bit as she spoke frankly, “if he's doing it for any reason at all, it’s self-interest. There's not a noble bone in that man's body. And, honestly, I dunno about Isaiah and Crash either. Isaiah’s obsessed with taking you down, meanwhile Crash has ties with that BoB group you hate.”

Kaye's head fell slightly as he gazed outward at the lights of Tokyo. The view was almost like home.

“People look at those three and just assume the worst. They’ll never change, never learn and it... that doesn't sit right with me,” Ned stated, his attention split between Darcy and the bright skyline of Tokyo.

“Ned... what's this really about?” She asked, seeing through him as clearly as the glass pane he stood before.

He forced the words out, struggling to say them, “I've never really earned a one year sobriety chip. I've been given one before, but... I wasn't ever honest about relapsing. I just kept up the blinders,sitting there while people congratulated me for making it.”

“This isn't about whether or not they can change to you, is it?” She asked, standing up and approaching him slowly, grabbing her glasses off the bedside table, “it's whether you can.”

He looked down, avoiding her gaze slightly before answering, “it's both. If they can change... if they can make a genuine, positive difference, then that means I'm not trying for nothing.”

“You sure you're not Catholic,” Darcy asked, raising her eyebrows, “because you have the guilt to match.”

He stifled a laugh as she shook him lightly by the shoulders, “Maybe it’s genetic?”

She snorted, patting his cheek as she gave him a nod, “Definitely. But since we're on vacation, maybe you can trade the sulking, hard on yourself stuff and put it to the side while we enjoy some of the sights. I know you wanted to see the Mecha Museum!”

“Oh god, but that place is so stuffy. They make you wear a suit just to observe some giant robots. You know I hate getting into a suit.”

“You're acting like I don't wanna go see them either. You think a girl gets into IT because she plays with Barbie dolls or because she's looking at Mechagodzilla?”

Ned shrugged, cracking a smile, “I always assumed the only reason people got into IT was because they didn't like people.”

“Not wrong, but still. I want to go see it and I want you to tag along, relax, and oggle the robots with me.”

Ned shook his head in disagreement.

“There is absolutely no way I am-”

20 hours prior Mecha Museum

Ned rotated his body a bit in his suit, feeling constrained by its well-fitted snugness against him. Darcy wore an black, sparkling dress she had managed to buy, looking over the various credits of each mech. Kaye certainly appreciated the change of pace and watching her geek out over how many she recognized was certainly a sight to behold. But eventually, they happened upon a newer looking mech, whose design and color scheme made it look as though it were wearing a suit.

“That's odd,” Darcy thought out loud, “I don't think I'm familiar with this one...”

They approached the plaque that detailed the mech, Darcy reading it's name aloud.

“J thirty-three Version 3S. Robot... butler? Support mech?”


Ned eyed the name for a bit before sighing.

“I think it means Jeeves. Like a generic butler's name.”

“Yeah, that's... kinda lame, honestly. But it says it's in commission. I wonder..?”

“Clearly, it's out fighting giant monsters.”

“Pfft. You wish. Still, I feel bad for the sorry son of a bitch stuck driving this side car of a mech.”

“You’re telling me,” Ned added just as the cell phone in his pocket began to ring. His heart rate spiked. It could be Amy. Perhaps a potential relapse. He slipped away, allowing Darcy to continue sightseeing until he could glance at his phone.

Mark.

Of course. He accepted the call, putting the phone to his ear

“He-”

“NEDARINO, NEDMEISTER, THE OL’ NEDTORIOUS!”

Kaye nearly dropped the phone from the abrupt shouting, but just repeated Theo’s suggestions to keep patient silently to himself.

“Hello, Mark.”

“Won’t keep ya long, Nedward. Just wanted to pencil into your calendar our plan to SAVE THE DAY! Event Name: “Ned and Flynn —> HEROES! To banks, Japanese and OTHERWISE!””

Ned exhaled, glancing back at Darcy as she admired a different mech.

“I was actually just trying to hang out for a bit before we got to that. Enjoy Tokyo while I’m here with Darce.”

“Neddliest Catch, you know better than I… JUSTICE DOESN’T WAIT FOR DATES TO END! Justice strikes immediately! I-M-M-E-D-I-A-T-E-L-Y.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ned rolled his eyes as he prepared for another lecture from a man who had spent his entire career pissing people off on how to practice doing the right thing.

“Then get over here! Pronto!” Mark snapped his fingers into the phone, or at least, that’s how it sounded.

“Mark, I appreciate your... enthusiasm, but it can wait fifteen minutes longer.”

“Let me paint you a picture, Nederator. Criminals are robbing this bank, frightening hard-working account-holders! Setting fire to Japanese yen! Using the flames to LIGHT CIGARETTES that they’ll peer-pressure kids to SMOKE WITH! Someone save us! Where’s Ned Kaye? DARN, HE’S TAKING HIS DAME TO TOURIST ATTRACTIONS! Sorry, lil’ Kentaro-chan, the black lung has SPREAD TO YOUR LEGS! WE’LL HAVE TO AMPUTATE! COULD YOU LIVE WITH YOURSELF AFTER THAT, NED?!?!”

Ned looked down at his feet, sighing.

“No. No I couldn’t. You’re right, Mark.”

“You’re a good egg, Ned. Now, double-time, my parking meter’s running!”

He hung up abruptly, leaving Ned to walk to Darcy and explain the situation to her again. She distrusted all of it, but she knew how important it was to Ned, so she eventually relented, standing alone in the Mecha Museum, a dejected expression glued to her face. And for a moment as Ned left, hopping in a taxi and heading off to Mark’s location…

He wished she told him no.

---

---

---

“They say you can tell a lot about a person based on the company they keep…”

“But what often is overlooked is why someone keeps that company. Now, I walked into the Captains Match at May Day 2 with a single goal: to prove what makes a leader. And I accomplished that in spades, eliminating both TK and Sarah Lacklan on the way, too. And you know how I won? It wasn’t just through grit and technique. People, friends and those who respect me and what I stand for, kept me from falling out. I won where Sarah lost because people believe in me. And what did I do with that responsibility? Did I take it and play things safely just to try and “not hurt my brand” or to avoid risk? No. I passed it forward. I put my belief in others, as imperfect as they may be.”

“Crash Rodriguez, a newcomer who allied with one of my least favorite stables in the history of the XWF. He’s talented, brutal, and dangerous and now he has a chance to define his identity on his own terms instead of getting wrapped up in the club of people who only realized Chris Page was an asshole after letting him build their group. Isaiah King, a prodigy on the edge of his future. He and I have differences and I know he has very pointed feelings pertaining to me, but I have always maintained that he has the chance to become one of the greatest performers in this company’s history if he follows the right path. And this is a way to show it. And last, but certainly not least, the walking encyclopedia of the XWF, Mark Flynn. A man who breathes numbers as readily as oxygen, but has count after count of awful deeds in his wake. A man no one believes can be redeemed after everything he’s done.”

“No one but me.”

“I chose my team because I think they should be given more than the dismissal most throw their way. Why did you choose your team, Sidney?”

“Centurion? A man who I grew up watching and have stood alongside, but was sucked into the bullshit mind games you fostered on Anarchy? Here you have a legend in the business, but you don’t respect him. He’s there as a chess piece and I can only imagine he understands fully that this is an act designed to toy with him. Who else? Jay Omega, who has only had to deal with you because you lost something he needed? Your major interactions with him prior have just been you handing him setback after setback and now you wanna boss him around, too? Jay Omega’s biggest accomplishment, by his own metric, would be nothing. Are you really qualified to help him in that regard? To take a hard look and try and help him? Or are you more interested in how a replicator might make win refills more convenient? And your last teammate, Vagabond, is someone you openly admitted to not wanting even though his desire to do less work is the only reason you’re playing captain to begin with.”

“Are these the actions of a leader or the woman I predicted in the weeks before March Madness? Because while everyone else was in awe of your one big moment, I was paying attention to you, ripping your life apart just for the attention factor of it all. Anything to keep eyes squared solely on yourself. And now, through the opportunity only a miracle could afford, you decided to unload every petty impulse in this excuse of leadership because you’re bitter about dropping the Uni as fast as you dropped Angie Vaughn.”

“I held sympathy for you, Sidney. I wanted to show you a better way and now the whole fed is watching you burn your meager legacy to shreds and flaunt your alcoholism like it's a personality trait instead of an illness. At War Games, a wrong will be righted. A leader will be shown through action instead of a wine glass. And redemption…”

“Will be granted to those who seek it.”

"You can't run from yourself."