New Beginnings

ReVival 50 - Wizink Center - Madrid, Spain It had been eight long weeks since a Lafayette Lullaby sent Bryan Dawkins back to the injured list. It was just another obstacle added to the minefield that he was attempting to navigate in this 2024 return. Unlike the career threatening injury that cost him nearly two years of in-ring action, this one was a source of major annoyance for Bryan.

Blowing out his knee was a freak accident that ultimately forced a change in style that he was still adjusting to today. Fracturing his jaw and breaking/dislodging some teeth wouldn’t affect his daily performance once he was cleared for contact.

Man did it hurt like a bitch, though. Ice packs and painkillers became his best friend for weeks. Pineapple smoothies were the main food group. The inability to communicate verbally was tough. He stayed on the overseas tour, doing (silent) meet and greets, autograph signings, and any PR that didn’t require talking.

But he was dying to get back in the ring. To prove something.

He finally got the call after eight weeks on the shelf, giving PRIME’s Favorite Hawaiian a chance to celebrate along the milestone that was the landmark 50th show of the ReVival era. It was too late to get booked on the upcoming show and the Tropical Turmoil card was all but set - Dawkins's PPV-less streak in 2024 would continue.

Nonetheless, he ended up in the ring ahead of ReVival 50 in an attempt to work off some ring rust. He was able to maintain his conditioning at a fairly high level thanks to some light/no contact Muay Thai and jiu jitsu training sessions, but nothing quite prepares you like getting inside the squared circle.

The WiZink Center was eerily quiet as Bryan Dawkins made his way inside. The only sounds were the faint hum of the lights and the shuffling of a few staff members and ring crew preparing for the evening's event. Dawkins took in a deep breath, savoring the familiar smell of sweat and adrenaline that filled the arena.

The session began with running the ropes. Get a good sweat going, warm the body up and lubricate the joints. The first back bump of the session sent a jolt of electricity up the spine of the Hawaiian and sent a shot of adrenaline through his extremities.

This felt good.

After ten minutes of running the ropes and drilling bumps of all varieties, Dawkins had worked up a sweat. The sound of his labored breathing was the only sound in the arena and he was enjoying the solitude.

But just as he thought he was alone, he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye. In an instant, his adrenaline spiked even higher as he tensed up, ready to defend himself if necessary.

To his surprise, it was fellow wrestler Adam Ellis accompanied by his manager Dawn McGill. Dawkins relaxed slightly, recognizing them as friendly acquaintances from past events.

Adam gave a friendly wave before joining Dawkins in the ring. "Hope you don't mind me intruding on your private training session," he said with a sheepish smile.

"No worries, bruh," Dawkins replied, catching his breath. "Just gettin’ some practice in before tonight's show."

Dawn checked her phone before sharing some news with Adam. "So, PRIME rejected your idea to bring in Jack Fraiser for the tag team tournament. Sorry, man."

Adam let out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously? What about Cathleen Cline? She's killing it in AMCW right now, she'd be a perfect partner."

Dawn shook her head, stray blonde hairs waving across her face. "No dice," she said with a sigh. "They want you to team up with someone already on the PRIME roster."

Adam's heart sank at the thought of being paired up with someone he didn't know or trust.

As Dawn’s gaze fell upon Dawkins, she couldn't help but do a quick up and down scan of his impressive frame. Hmmm...maybe Adam teaming up with Bryan wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Actually, this guy wouldn't be a bad choice," she mused.

Dawkins raised an eyebrow and leaned forward in his chair. "Oh ya? What makes you say that?"

"Well, for starters, you look like you can handle yourself in the ring," Dawn replied with a wry grin. "And I have a feeling you could work well together."

Dawkins pondered for a minute before frowning. “I don’t know, bruh. I heard about the rumors of a Tag Team Tournament to revive the division but I didn’t pay them much mind at the time.”

“Well, would you be interested?” Dawn asked, sensing an opportunity to make this partnership work.

“No offense, but this whole return was supposed to be one of those 'do it on my own' kinda things," Dawkins explained. "A tag team doesn’t really fit into that plan, ya know?”

“You’re coming back from a knee injury, right?” Dawn asked, trying to sway him.

“Yep,” confirmed Bryan with a nod.

"You know,” Dawn began with a thoughtful expression, “coming back from a knee injury is tough. Maybe teaming with a young up-and-comer like Adam wouldn't be the worst idea. Adam’s still finding his way… you’re trying to get back into the groove. Maybe starting with tag team wrestling could ease you back into things and even slow down the wear and tear. It might even extend your career."

The more he thought about it, the more Bryan liked the idea. He looked at Ellis with renewed interest.

“Alright bruh, I’m in.” As he extended his hand to the AMCW champion to memorialize the agreement, Dawkins was already planning ahead. “Ya know, bruh, we’re gonna need to figure out how this thing’s gonna work. I’m not the flier I used t’be. Probably gonna need to rely on ground ‘n pound and tapping people out, ya?”

“That’s fine,” Adam said, eager to get started. “I’m more of a technical guy myself, so we can balance each other out.”

Bryan nodded in agreement. "So how do we do this?" he asked, ready to start strategizing and training for their upcoming matches as a new tag team duo.

Dawkins’ new tag partner pondered for a minute before locking eyes with his manager across the ring. A quick grin formed.

“You ever hear of AMCW?”

June 30th - MVW’s Wrestling Night in America Adam leaned against the cold, rough concrete wall of the dimly lit corridor backstage at Missouri Valley Wrestling's big pay-per-view event - Wrestling Night in America. Adam surveyed the chaotic scene before him, bustling bodies of crew and talent scurrying around backstage.  Beside him, Ginny Van Lear stood protectively with a hand on her swollen belly, visibly glowing with anticipation. And beside her stood Adam’s new tag team partner in PRIME - Bryan Dawkins, who nervously shifted his weight from one foot to another as he took it all in.

Dawn McGill sat perched like a queen amidst her entourage of cabana boys. Her statuesque frame was accentuated by a form-fitting outfit that left little to the imagination. But it wasn't just her appearance that commanded attention; it was her intense gaze fixed on the ring.

"Your manager sure knows how to make an impression," Bryan remarked, his voice tinged with a mix of awe and amusement as he took in the sight of Dawn receiving the royal treatment—shoulders kneaded, a tropical drink placed into her hand, and feet massaged, all simultaneously.

Ginny rolled her eyes, the sound rich with her Kentucky/Appalachian cadence. "Y’all, that's Dawn for ya."

Adam's gaze was locked on the giant screen as Tori, with her back against the ropes, ducked a wild clothesline from Colton. The crowd's roar crescendoed as she rebounded with grace, launching herself into the air and wrapping her legs around Colton's neck. With an arch of her back and a twist of her hips, she sent Colton crashing to the mat with a textbook suplex that echoed throughout the arena.

"Y'know, she's got the same fire in her eyes as her momma," Adam murmured, his voice barely rising above the cacophony of the crowd. The pride was evident, and he nodded appreciatively as Tori kipped up to her feet, the fiery determination in her eyes reflecting the lights above.

Ginny leaned forward, her hands resting on her belly as if feeling the pulse of the match through her unborn child. "She's got guts, I'll give her that," she said, her eyes flitting between the action and Adam's reaction.

But suddenly, Tori’s hand slipped into her boot, and withdrew a glinting object, concealed until now, and before anyone could shout a warning, it connected with Colton's temple.

The impact thudded across the arena, a discordant note that shattered the rhythm of the match. Colton crumpled to the canvas, motionless, as a chorus of boos and jeers erupted from the stands.

"Tori?" Adam hissed under his breath, the word slipping out like steam from a pressure valve. His jaw clenched, the disappointment etching lines across his normally placid face. It was a look not often seen on the gentle giant, a mixture of concern and disapproval that flickered in his eyes and tightened his grip on the cold concrete wall.

Referee Corrina Romanov's hand pierced the air and split the arena with its verdict- disqualification. Instantly, the charged atmosphere gave way to bedlam as Tammie Hardy and Savannah Smith, glittering specters in sequins and spandex, vaulted over the ropes with the grace of acrobats but the intent of warriors. Their approach was not one of celebration but of siege as they cornered Corrina Romanov with the ferocity of lionesses protecting their pride.

"Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Ginny's words were almost lost beneath the cacophony, her Appalachian twang adding a layer of grit to her observation. Her eyes, usually so full of fire and fight, now shimmered with unease as she watched the spectacle, her red mane framing her face like the flames that danced within her.

Adam could only grimace as Tori's teammates encircled the official.

"Where'd Dawn go?" Bryan's voice cut through the tumult, sharp and sudden. Adam's gaze snapped from the ring to the now-deserted chaise lounge where Dawn McGill had held court mere moments before. The cabana boys, devoted satellites to Dawn's commanding presence, wandered aimlessly at ringside- a rudderless ship adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

"Something ain't right," Adam's voice, a soft-spoken twang tinged with an edge of alarm, sliced the tension between them. Their eyes met, each reflecting the other's concern. His eyes darted across the dimly lit backstage area, a sense of urgency propelling him through the maze-like corridors. His towering frame cast long shadows as he moved, his boots thudding against the concrete with each purposeful stride. The raucous energy from the ring that typically fueled him now seemed distant, an unintelligible roar against the silent panic gripping his chest.

"Over there!" The sharp call cut through the tumult in Adam's mind. It was Bryan, pointing toward the far end of the corridor where a commotion stirred near the service exit. Without hesitation, Adam bolted towards the disturbance, his large hands ready to grapple with any obstacle.

The scene before him unfolded like a slow-motion replay on the video screen- Dawn McGill, his no-nonsense manager and anchor in this unpredictable world, lay motionless on a stretcher. Her medium-length blonde hair, usually styled with meticulous care, now splayed across the pillow in disarray. Three figures clad in medical attire busied themselves around her, their movements strangely choreographed and lacking the authentic urgency that should have accompanied such a dire situation.

"Hey!" Adam bellowed, his voice deep and resonant, but it was as if he were calling out from the bottom of a well. He surged forward, intent on breaking through the human barrier to reach Dawn's side. The security team- MVW’s own line of defense- set up in a line before him, their broad shoulders and steely expressions forming a wall not even a heavyweight like Adam could topple.

"Step back. We've got this under control," one of the guards commanded, his tone firm yet laced with an undercurrent of doubt. The guard's eyes flickered with uncertainty, meeting Adam's intense gaze only briefly before looking away.

“Move!" Adam demanded again, more forceful this time, his fists clenched at his sides. The guards remained unmoved, a testament to their training, but their hesitation betrayed them. They, too, sensed something amiss in this orchestrated emergency. Dawn was in trouble, and every second wasted widened the gap between her and safety.

Adam's heart raced, the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew that in the ring, timing was everything. A beat too early or a moment too late could mean the difference between victory and defeat—or worse. Now, it wasn't just about winning. It was about saving someone who meant more to him than titles and accolades.

Ginny's declaration ripped through the standoff like a steel chair to the skull. "If you weren’t born in a barn…" Her voice, raw and untamed, cut the tension as her eyes locked onto the 'medics' with the intensity of a main event stare-down.  “…y’all would know that ain't no ambulance crew."

The guards, once an immovable force, now appeared rattled, a flicker of doubt in their stances. Adam's jaw tightened, muscles tensed beneath his skin like coiled ropes ready to snap.

"Let me through!" The words thundered from Adam’s chest, echoing off the concrete walls with the force of a heavyweight's finishing move. His voice carried the subtle twang of his Midwestern roots, sharpened by urgency. Yet, the guards stood firm, hands raised, an unspoken 'no further' hanging heavy in the air.

"Adam, look!" Ginny’s hand shot out, her slender fingers pointing past the guards to the open door. Through it, the parking lot lay exposed, vulnerable under the harsh glare of floodlights.

Adam's gaze followed, tracking the stretcher's path as it vanished into the night, swallowed by darkness. The knot in his gut twisted tighter, a lariat of worry choking his resolve. Answers were fleeting, just beyond reach, and with every passing moment, Dawn slipped further away. He had to make a move, had to change the game plan before it was too late.

"Dammit, let me go!" He tried again, his plea slammed down by the wall of MVW Security, their presence a clear disqualification of his intentions. Adam's eyes narrowed, muscles tensed as the van burst into life before him. The so-called medics moved with an urgency that betrayed their earlier facade of calm professionalism. Dawn's stretcher was hoisted with practiced ease, the motion too smooth, too rehearsed. Adam's gut churned; this wasn't care, it was a kidnapping in plain sight.

The van's tires squealed against the pavement, a predator making its getaway. The van, a steel beast with no markings to speak of, became a blur of motion, its back doors slamming with the finality of a coffin lid.

"Dammit!" The word exploded from Adam's lips as his fist mirrored the action, clenching tight enough to blanch the knuckles white. He whipped around to face the guards, those supposed protectors who'd been nothing more than unwitting pawns in this sinister match. Their faces registered the shock of betrayal as they stepped back, clearing the path they had so adamantly blocked moments ago.

"Adam..." Ginny's voice cut through the chaos, a lifeline thrown across the tumultuous sea of his emotions. Her hand slipped into his, the contact both grounding and igniting a spark of shared determination between them. "What in the world are we gonna do? I cain't be on the road like this..."

Adam turned to Ginny, his expression a mix of resolve and concern, the protective gladiator ready to face whatever challenge lay ahead, inside the ring or out.

***

The fans had long ago left the arena, still buzzing from the events of Wrestling Night in America. It had also been hours since most of the wrestlers and staff of Missouri Valley Wrestling had gone to their hotels for a long night of celebrating and (possibly?) rest.

Once again, Bryan Dawkins and Adam Ellis found themselves alone in the bowels of a desolate arena. Ellis, still reeling from the events of a few hours earlier, paced back and forth through the corridor. Dawkins was perched upon an equipment case, sporting a solemn glare at the polished cement floor.

DING

The screen on Dawkins’ phone dimly lit the hallway as the text message notification popped onto the screen. Ellis was still deep in thought as Dawkins quickly scanned the message.

“So uh, bruh…I know now’s not the best time, but we got news.” Ellis’ head snapped around at the mere mention of a potential update.

Dawkins flinched. “Sorry bruh, not that news. We’ve got the lucha-bruhs in the first round of the tourney.” As soon as he figured out the news had nothing to do with his manager, Ellis brushed aside the news and continued his fervent pacing.

“Look bruh, I know your mind’s a million miles away. Can’t say I’d be any different if it were me in your flip-flops. But we’ve still got a job to do - you guys convinced me to join this team instead of goin’ it alone and I wasn’t planning on goin’ home empty-handed from this tourney.”

No response from Ellis.

Dawkins hopped down from his perch, becoming a blockade for his new partner.

Ellis shook his head and turned away.

Paying no mind, Dawkins spun Adam back around and poked an index finger directly into the chest of the larger man. “Lemme ask you somethin’, bruh. Ya think Dawn would want ya sittin’ here pacin’ back ‘n forth like a caged lion? What are ya gonna do? Ya gonna go after them?”

Adam looked down at the ground for a few seconds.  He finally shook his head ‘no.’

“I didn’t think so. I haven’t known Dawn for long, but I do know she isn’t gonna take this lyin’ down. And I know for sure she would want you focused on takin’ care of business in this tourney. We’ve got a couple weeks to get this under control and get our shit together. I’ll help ya with whatever’s happenin’ with Dawn as much as I can, but it’s gotta go both ways, bruh.”

“You’re right,” a conflicted Ellis finally said. Deep down, he knew Dawkins was right.  Dawn could take care of herself and she would want him to focus his attention solely on the match.  “We need to be on the same page.  We need to get ready for TAL and the Spanglo Luchador.”

Epilogue The electric energy that had just filled the packed arena was suddenly replaced by a suffocating stillness inside a dark van. Three shadowy figures sat in silence, their faces hidden behind masks, each lost in their own thoughts and anticipation. The dim light from the small overhead bulb cast eerie shadows over their features as they methodically peeled off their disguises.

Svetlana Kovaleski, her sharp features set in an expression of unwavering determination, held herself with an air of authority befitting her rank as Major in the Soviet Bloc. Her rigid posture and crisp uniform exuded discipline and control. Nikita Kalashnik, ever the stoic soldier, nodded in silent acknowledgment of their mission. Her muscular frame and piercing eyes betrayed no sign of doubt or fear. And then there was Agent Valya, the mysterious handler who always seemed to have a sly smile playing on her lips. Her charm served as a foil to the rigid formality of her compatriots.

Svetlana broke the tense silence, her voice measured and commanding, “Operation is proceeding as planned.”

Nikita responded with a curt nod. “Da, Major Kovaleski.”

Agent Valya purred out her agreement, “Indeed. The Soviet Bloc has won a great victory tonight. The Red Army will soon run rampant over MVW just like it does over PRIME.”

Her voice was a stark contrast to the seriousness of the others. She then gestured towards their ultimate prize - the unconscious form of Dawn McGill, strapped down on a gurney in front of them.

Valya’s smile widened as she spoke, “The Queen of Desire will soon awaken to a new reality.”