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In Time...
Topic Started: May 15 2016, 01:59 AM (26 Views)
Alejandro
The Iron Saint
“Mr. Alejandro. I brought you into this office, because I want to tell you that… your doctors misdiagnosed you, sir. Plain and simple. You were misdiagnosed.” The older neurologist looked at the man in the office before him. He had short hair, graying, but he was still relatively healthy. Jaime Alejandro was given a death sentence of Parkinson’s disease and possible Lewy’s Body Dementia. Instead…

“Wait, you mean… I’ve been taking the wrong medicine. I’ve been addled all of this time, and it’s bullshit.”

“Essentially, yes. It was.” The man looked at Jaime and showed him the charts. “Your brain is damaged, let’s not lie. But it’s the common signs of concussional syndrome. You had the shakes and the seizures. You had the weakness and paralysis. But, you also managed to avoid contact since that time. Over a year and a half has passed since your last match, right?”

“Yes.”

He put a sheet of paper and signed it in front of Jaime. “This is a letter to the Masschusetts Athletic Board. You are cleared to wrestle at your choosing. But I would not rush back into it.”

“Meaning?”

“I would pick my spots, sir. I wouldn’t go for the cheap opponent. You have a finite time before your career should be done. Make the most of it.”

“I’m guessing more rest and relaxation before I go and kick the hornet’s nests.”

“Correct.”

“Guess I’ll have a while to consider it, doc.”




“Sensei…”

“Don’t talk, kid. Let the officials take care of you.”

“But I…”

“You didn’t fail, Gen. The numbers game got too much for you.”

“What now?”

“I don’t know yet. We get you healed up. Then… you can take back what’s yours.”

“Hai…”

As the men loaded him into the ambulance, they looked at Jaime. He glared back at them. “You take care of him, or I’ll find you. Comprende?”

The driver nodded to Jaime, as they started to head towards the hospital.




“You sure you want to go through with all of this, boss? I mean… Gates is long gone. You don’t really have anyone you want to fight out there, do you?” Taiji Sakamoto was Jaime’s head trainer and one of the better students he had been able to teach. But the question posed by the young man did bother him a bit.

“I have plenty of people who I want to fight out there, kid. The problem is… They’re all occupied with the flavor tournament of the month. Every rat scurrying for their piece of cheese. Almost kind of maddening, isn’t it? But what can we really expect from a sport where this is the norm.”

“So, you go out and kick the hornet’s nest? Then what?”

Jaime smiled at Taiji, “We’ll see who runs from it, and we’ll see who’s willing to come back with a can of Raid to ‘take care of the problem.’ It’s easy science, honestly. The talkers will run away from me. I don’t want them. I want the one who still has the stomach to do this. And from what I’m seeing. That’s very few.”

Taiji looked at the phone. “So, I’m guessing you’re going to make the call.”

“Yes. But in my time, Taiji… In my time.”




Jaime strolled into the house, after his prognosis was given. He doesn't know how to break the news to her. Yet... He doesn't have the time to even come up with a proper cover... The lady of the house sat in the big recliner, waiting on him…

"Well, I'm not dead yet. Sorry."

Tanya looked over at him as she sat there in a pair of shorts and a tank top. She walked over and gave him a hug.

“Don't be silly. You should apologize for being dead not "not dead". So give me some details because I've been sitting here unable to enjoy any TV because of worry about you. And I had Predator 2 on the DVR.”

“So, the Vegas doctor and the Albuquerque doctors seem to have gotten it seriously wrong…”

“What... how wrong?”

Jaime sat her down on his lap in the huge recliner. “Wrong treatment and diagnosis type wrong.”

Tanya stroked Jaime's hair as she sits on his lap and tries to keep herself calm as she processed these thoughts. “What the fuck? I mean I could see the Vegas Doctor screwing up a little. Everyone who works in Vegas is half-assed. Except Penn and Teller. How did a second doctor get it wrong? Blind Trust in the first diagnosis?”

“More or less. Plus the nerve damage was seizure like. So, it wasn't an exact science, sadly. All it was showing was symptoms they didn't try to explain.”

“So, what is the current diagnosis? Better? Worse?”

“Depends on your point of view, really. I have been cleared to be a part-time wrestler…”

Tanya looked into Jaime's eyes for a moment after hearing this. Her lips pursed into an unamused look. “Well, that's a good base diagnosis standard. Too bad it won't mean anything....”

“Actually, I have been thinking about ending a few issues. But, it won't be any time soon... Because even if I get into the old habit. It's finite.”

Tanya continued to frown as she sat in Jaime's lap. “Everything is finite. Don't do this to me, Jaime. Even if you don't have a full blown disorder... You will never be the man you were back when we first met. I'll spend the whole time worrying about you. It's unfair. At least, I'm still healthy enough... I can recover.”

Jaime heard the sadness in her tone and pulled her closer to his chest. “JaiI know that all too well. I'm not as big and strong as I used to be. I'm not as fast as I used to be. Stuff hurts that didn't hurt before. And I admitted long ago that I don't need professional wrestling anymore. But there's some people that are still hanging onto that crutch like Keith Richards clutches to his guitar.”

“Psh. Stones are over-rated.”

“And yet, Keith consumes the soul of a talented musician every time one dies, Miss Aerosmith fan…”

“I would not be surprised to find out Keith Richards is in fact an Immortal. Someone should cut off his head and see if there is a lightning orgy.”

“I have a machete in the closet…”

“Maybe later… Back to the topic, old man.”

“But yes... Even if I wanted to go back. I can't exactly pick some random person for the giggles. Because I'm sorry... Wasting a year on Crazy Boy... Just no.”

Tanya ceased the teasing for a moment. Thinking seriously, she shifted in Jaime's lap to face him and stare directly into his eyes. “I'll agree to this. I will do so without being a passive-aggresive bitch. But there are going to be rules.”

“Alright, miss. What are the rules?”

“First, no one from our old Vegas haunt that actively hates you. I don't care who signs up with that fed now or later. No SCAR. No Setons of any kind. No resentful former heroes who blame you for anything. I don't want you going to war if I can't be there to watch your back. No offense, I don't trust anyone else enough to do the job right, not even your students.”

“I think the first is playing in their bloody playpen. The second is butthurt over a few things, like a Youth movement. I don't know of any resentful former heroes there. But who knows. And my students are trying to figure out how to deal with that same Youth movement.”

“Rule still applies. Two, regular doctor checkups. I have to keep my neck issues updated anytime I have a hard match where I take damage to that area. So do you. Three, you don't start until we train together and I approve you. I can't stop myself worrying a little, but if I know firsthand your level I can keep myself calm and supportive.”

“Okay. I can agree to this. Does your training involve beatings?”

“Sparring. Naturally.”

“There is another rule. Isn't there…”

“You stop before YOU are crippled. Though, that applies to both of us.”

“More or less... Wheelchair sex is challenging.”

“So, we agree on this. Let's end this... For both of us, so we can settle down in peace. Raise goldfish or something.”

“I guess I should be a ghost for a while there... Let them come to me.”

“Good stalling tactic while we get you ready to wrestle.”

“They're preoccupied with a tournament. Would be a perfect time, really.”

“We'll start tomorrow. Besides, training with you will help my training, as well. Tonight, we are going to take it easy. We got frozen pizza. We got ice cream. We got Predator 2.”

“One ugly... mother…”

Tanya giggled as she nibbled on Jaime's neck. “And if you are good... I'll slip into something lacy and cute for after the movie.”

“I may try to keep the boob grabbing to less than five times.”

“Tanya: We'll see what the orders are when the mission begins, soldier boy...”




“Oh my Lord take this soul,
lay me at the bottom of the river…
The Devil has come to carry me home, lay me at the bottom…
the bottom of the river.”

The song played over the system, as Jaime hit the heavy bag with everything he had. The older man had lost a step, but he gained something else in his time again. Patience… Lots of patience.

“Oh my Lord take this hand,
save me from the gallows.
Hear this news, bear my gold
lay me in the shallows.
Evil will come if you call my name,
the wicked day shall rise.
The river’s sins gonna wash me clean,
the river don’t run dry…”

He stared at his older face. A beard grown out since his time away. His hair is pulled back. The face that’s in front of him now… A face that has seen too much. A face that has seen humanity at its worst. A face that has seen humanity at its best.

The Iron Saint. The Strong Style Saint. The Man of War. The Iron Bastard. The Last Phenom. The Original Saint of Violence. The Soldier. The Raven. The Black Heart. The Grandmaster. Jaime Alejandro has been all of these men. He knows what he must do. As he pulled out his phone…

“Stacy… Honma isn’t coming back. I am. And tell your roster I’m bringing Hell with me. It’s time for some spring cleaning.”

On the other end is silence and hesitation… She doesn’t know what to tell him. Except. “When?”

“In my own time, Stacy. I dictate this. Not you.”

And with a push of the red button, he smiled at the mirror. He would return. But not for you. And not for a paycheck… A soldier who doesn’t have a war. A demon who doesn’t have a sin. An angel who has no soul to redeem. A man who has nothing left to prove. A writer who needs to close his last chapter. This is Jaime Alejandro. A man trying to finish his last chapter… In his own time.
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