Bruises Like Proof
Pairing: Lita x Victoria Word Count: 1,173 TW: Wrestling violence , tension (?) , mentions of pain (non-graphic) , angst , SFW
Songs to listen to while reading:
“Bring Me to Life” – Evanescence
“Haunted” – Taylor Swift
“Fighter” – Christina Aguilera
“Numb” – Linkin Park
“Control” – Puddle of Mudd
“My Immortal” – Evanescence Lita: orange Victoria: Red
The crowd didn’t know what to do with them.
They never really did.
One moment, they were cheering like it was chaos incarnate. The next, they were watching in stunned silence as two of the most unpredictable forces in the division tore into each other like neither of them had any intention of walking out the same way they came in.
And maybe they didn’t.
Backstage felt colder than usual.
Lita sat on the edge of a steel bench, slowly pressing an ice pack against her ribs. Her hair was damp with sweat, mascara slightly smudged under her eyes, and her breathing still hadn’t fully settled into something normal.
The match replayed in flashes behind her eyes.
Impact.
Reversal.
Impact again.
Victoria didn’t hesitate.
That was the thing.
She never did.
A door creaked.
Lita didn’t look up immediately.
She already knew.
Heavy boots. Controlled steps. The kind of presence that didn’t rush, even after a match like that.
“You’re still here,” came Victoria’s voice.
Calm.
Measuring.
Not teasing.
Not soft.
Just… present.
Lita finally looked up.
Victoria stood in the doorway, one arm resting lightly against the frame, hair pulled back messily from the match, eyes locked onto her like she was trying to read damage reports without asking directly.
“Yeah,” Lita said simply. “Unfortunately.”
That got a faint exhale from Victoria. Almost a laugh. Almost not.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
It wasn’t unusual for them.
They had been doing this dance for a long time.
Too long.
Matches that felt personal even when they weren’t supposed to be. Moves delivered with precision that bordered on frustration. Stares after the bell rang that lingered longer than necessary.
The company called it rivalry.
The crowd called it brutality.
Neither of them called it anything at all.
Victoria stepped inside, closing the door behind her.
“You’re favoring your side,” she said.
Lita rolled her eyes slightly. “Thanks, doctor.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
That wasn’t entirely true.
Victoria crossed the room slowly, stopping a few feet away.
Not invading space.
Not retreating from it either.
“You didn’t have to take that last slam,” she said quietly.
Lita snorted. “That’s rich coming from you.”
A pause.
Because that landed.
They both remembered.
Victoria didn’t pull punches.
Neither did Lita.
That was part of the problem.
And part of why neither of them ever really stayed down for long.
“I didn’t mean to go that hard,” Victoria said after a moment.
Lita blinked.
That wasn’t something she heard often.
Not from her.
Not from anyone.
She adjusted the ice pack slightly, watching Victoria carefully now.
“You always mean to go that hard,” Lita replied.
Victoria didn’t deny it.
Which, somehow, said more than words could.
The silence stretched.
Heavy, but not hostile.
Just… full.
Like something unresolved sitting between them that neither of them had figured out how to name.
Lita leaned back slightly, wincing just a little.
Victoria noticed immediately.
“You should get that checked,” she said.
“I’ve had worse.”
“That doesn’t make it smart.”
Lita smiled faintly. “You sound like you care.”
Victoria hesitated.
Just a fraction too long.
“I do,” she said.
Simple.
Direct.
No room for interpretation.
That made Lita go still.
Because Victoria didn’t usually say things like that out loud.
Not like that.
Not without armor on.
“Since when?” Lita asked quietly.
Victoria tilted her head slightly.
“Since it started mattering.”
That answer didn’t help.
Or maybe it helped too much.
Lita looked away for a second.
Not because she was uncomfortable.
Because she wasn’t used to this version of Victoria.
The one that didn’t feel like an opponent standing across the ring.
The one that sounded… closer.
“I thought you liked hurting me,” Lita said lightly, trying to steer it back into familiar territory.
Victoria’s expression didn’t change.
“I don’t like hurting you.”
That landed differently again.
More carefully this time.
More honest.
Lita let out a slow breath.
“Then why do we keep doing it?”
Victoria stepped a little closer.
Not enough to be threatening.
Just enough to be undeniable.
“Because you don’t stop either,” she said.
A beat.
Then softer—
“And because you never stay down.”
That should’ve sounded like admiration.
And maybe it was.
But it also sounded like something heavier.
Something almost personal.
Lita met her eyes fully now.
The noise of the arena felt a thousand miles away.
“You’re staring,” she said.
Victoria didn’t deny it.
“I always do,” she replied.
That should’ve been a joke.
It wasn’t.
Something in the air shifted.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
Just quietly.
Like a decision being made without either of them announcing it.
Lita lowered the ice pack slightly.
“You ever think we’re not actually rivals?” she asked.
Victoria raised an eyebrow slightly. “What else would we be?”
Lita paused.
Then shrugged a little.
“I don’t know. Something worse.”
That made Victoria pause.
Properly.
For the first time in the conversation, she looked away.
Just briefly.
Like she was considering something she didn’t usually allow herself to consider.
When she looked back, her voice was quieter.
“Worse how?”
Lita hesitated.
Then, honestly—
“Like we’re only pretending it’s just wrestling.”
Silence.
Not empty.
Dense.
Victoria exhaled slowly.
“That’s dangerous thinking,” she said.
Lita smiled faintly. “We’re professional wrestlers. Everything we do is dangerous.”
A pause.
Then Victoria nodded slightly.
“…Fair.”
The tension didn’t disappear.
It just changed shape.
Less like hostility.
More like recognition.
Victoria stepped closer again.
Now there wasn’t much space left between them.
“You’re still hurt,” she said.
Lita looked up at her.
“So are you.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” Lita said softly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The world outside didn’t matter in here.
Just two fighters.
Standing too close.
Breathing too evenly.
Not touching.
Not yet.
But not avoiding it anymore either.
Victoria’s voice dropped slightly.
“Does it bother you?” she asked.
Lita frowned slightly. “What?”
“That we keep ending up like this.”
Lita looked at her for a long moment.
Then shook her head.
“No,” she said. “It bothers me that we act like we don’t.”
That was the closest either of them had come to saying it.
Victoria didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Next match,” she said quietly, “I’m not holding back.”
Lita smirked slightly.
“You ever do?”
That earned the smallest flicker of something like a smile from Victoria.
“No,” she admitted.
A beat.
Then Lita leaned back slightly, exhaling.
“Good,” she said.
Victoria tilted her head. “Good?”
Lita met her eyes again.
“Yeah,” she said. “At least then it’s honest.”
For the first time all night, Victoria nodded like she understood.
Like she agreed.
Like she always had.
As she turned toward the door, she paused.
Just for a second.
“Lita.”
Lita looked up.
Victoria didn’t turn around fully.
But her voice was softer now.
“Don’t stay down next time.”
It wasn’t a challenge.
It wasn’t a threat.
It was something else entirely.
Something dangerously close to care.
Then she was gone.
And the room felt quieter than before.
But not empty.
A/N: Lita and Victoria always gave me that “we are absolutely trying to destroy each other but also emotionally clock each other at all times” energy 😭 I wanted this to feel like their rivalry slowly revealing emotional honesty underneath all the impact and intensity.
