"ITVR: Chapter 37"
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By Jadedoll, Penumbren, & Raising Kane
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... after the show or just head back to the hotel?" Looking down at his feet while they walked down the hall, Chris thought for a moment about his response, before answering Adam. What did he want to do tonight? Easy... spend time with Adam. Doing what? Anything. They'd partied last night even though it hadn't been a date as such, so maybe they could do the goofy stare into each others' eyes then neck on the sofa deal. Chris hadn't done something that simple in ages and he found he wanted that goofiness for a change. Maybe even order a movie? Or porn? Decided to fuck your way through the roster now instead of picking up rats, huh Adam? The charming question had come from Terry. Chris didn't turn to look although he caught sight of Adam's middle finger from the corner of his eye. CJ had to bite his lip to stop the laugh and a comeback, but this was Adam's ex and his�decision if he wanted Chris' verbal support. worth all that whining and bitching you did when he left? If someone here sounded like a whiny bitch, it wasn't Adam. The problem with the question wasn't the insult or the rather obvious sour grapes with which the words were spoken, it was Adam's reaction. Terry was pretty dumb, but even he knew that getting at a man's new lover would bring a response and what a response he got too. Chris looked on proudly as Adam verbally ripped Terry's balls off and fed them to him. Such a nice change to be in total lust with someone who could make threats with just their posture rather than their muscles. Chris remained silent, simply letting the wicked humour he found in the situation show in his face. Terry really was digging his own grave. "It's over meathead," he�offered mentally,�"he don't want yer ass no more Son." Chris on the other hand has a huge cock. Well, Adam wasn't lying there, and he had me screaming like a fangirl. That one-two punch had Chris laughing like�he was being tickled. Adam was the best looking fangirl he'd ever seen. CJ let his towel drop till he was only holding one corner, spinning it slowly, he prepared a whip with which to show his 'fangirl' who was boss. If you see Brock... Ouch, knock out. Terry's pathetic threat didn't phase CJ in the slightest. He could, and had, handled The Rhyno's infamous temper with one hand tied behind his back. Not that the guy didn't have talent. Chris just had more. Afterwards Chris would think it had been that singular arrogant thought that had made him look from Adam's half-apologetic face�to the man fairly hopping with fury. Yeah, CJ knew he could take him if Terry tried anything. Like he'd conjured it up with his mind, he saw the dark man suddenly propel himself down the hall like�a freight train in that devastating trademark move. Chris' instincts unfortunately saved his own skin, but failed Adam at the last moment. His own voice still echoing down the hall, CJ neatly side stepped the two bodies about to crash into him, while reaching out a useless hand to cushion Adam's impact with the wall. Seeing his beloved Adam slump to the ground, the unmistakable smear of red where his head met the wall, sent Chris into a wild, frenzy. "Get the fuck off him! Get off! Fuck! Adam! Adam!" Reaching for Terry's neck to pull him away from the horribly broken form of his lover, Chris' finger's wouldn't obey him, the sharp stabbing pain running up his forearm an indication of the condition of his hand.�At the�momentary pause, Terry got in a boot to Adam's ribs, the sickening sound and spasm of Adam's body forming a knot of cold fury in Chris' stomach. Using his foot around an ankle and�an off-hand grip on his wrist, Chris pulled Terry�away from�Adam, around�him in a half circle�and down to the ground face first. Twisting the bigger man's imprisoned arm back and up between his shoulder blades, CJ pressed his knee into Terry's ribs and wrenched his finger's cruelly, ignoring the pained yell and grunt of submission his actions caused. "How about I break your fingers Bitch?" **** � Something's going down back here and it's not friendly. Hunt's towel hit the floor as Shawn's words and CJ's voice reached his ears at the same time. Oh shit... he knew that tone when he heard it. Feeling Dave's reassuring presence at his shoulder and seeing Shawn out pace them just ahead, Hunter took in the startling scene at a glance. It was pretty clear CJ was about to dismember Terry, but it was the state of Adam that had Hunter dropping to the man's side to assess his condition. The blond was on his knees, arms holding his chest and breathing in deep rasping coughs that�could be�the indicator of several different things, most of them nasty. It was the dark area of wet blond hair�on the back of Adam's head that was more troublesome though. Placing a gentle hand on one bowed shoulder, Hunter spoke clearly over the vicious words coming from Jericho, not three feet away. "Just take deep breaths Adam. In. Out. Yeah I know it hurts. What is it? Ribs? Okay, if you can bear it, I need you to sit down and lean against the wall.�Good.�Sit up straight, you got it buddy."�As Adam gingerly moved at Hunter's directions, Hunt tried to make out the condition of the blond's hair-covered face. "CJ? He's fine. You just hold those ribs and focus on breathing. I swear he's okay Adam, hear that?" Hunter almost smiled, in spite of the serious situation, at the stream of obscenities and insults pouring from CJ's pretty mouth. "Let go! Let Go! Stupid motherfucker Cro-Magnon here's gonna find out if the thumb hurts as bad as the pinkie. Yeah you, Fuck-knuckle! Fuckin' come get me, you don't need ten. I hear your dick's too small for five anyway,�three'll do.�Fuck you�Terry. No, fuck you! No! Fuck�you!�Let go!" Hunter gave a quick glance over his shoulder to see that the situation was well in hand.� Terry and Chris now yelling insults at each other, the dark man's more pained as he clutched his hand to his chest in an obvious world of hurt. Dave was fine and Shawn's concerned face looked back at him over Adam's slumped form. Other wrestlers had arrived from the locker room down the hall, attracted by the scent of violence and mayhem. The trainers and EMTs arrived soon after, dislodging Hunter and Shawn, questioning Adam quietly while checking his pulse and perfectly awful respiration. Hunt imagined one of them would eventually get to Terry. Unfortunately of those people attracted to the commotion, one�was none other than his father-in-law, their boss. Great. "What the hell is going on?" Vincent K. McMahon demanded of, naturally, his alpha wrestler... Hunter. Even Chris was subdued into angry hissing at Terry, while still trying to shrug off the arms pinning him in place. When�the small blond�started to struggle, but this time looking at Adam, Hunt gave�the nod to let the man go. Standing, Hunter rubbed at the back of his neck and raised a sarcastic, questioning eyebrow. He'd get it in the neck later but really... what a stupid question. "A fight?" he offered, having no actual facts to hand other than his own suspicions and well... logic. **** "So tell me again why a contest would be a bad thing, babe?" Glen turned and growled at Sean who was seated in the car next to him. It didn't last long as Glen was driving and all he received for his efforts was a burst of laughter. "I don't need a contest to tell me how loud I am Sean. It's not like it's something I have any control over." Sean snickered quietly over the pink tint now staining Glen's cheeks. "I know what it is. You're just worried that you'd actually win and then the guys would never leave you alone about it. They should have heard you last night... in fact I'm surprised that none of them did since we were all on the same floor." Pink turning to red told Sean what he had already known. He was dead on about this. Poor Glen. You'd have thought the man would have lost the ability to blush by now as long as they'd been together. Sean actually hoped that he never did though. He absolutely loved it. "Will you just hush. We are not having a contest." Glen tried a scowl this time with pretty much the same results. It was a sad thing when he couldn't even intimidate someone of Sean's size. He shouldn't have been surprised though. Sean knew that he had Glen wrapped around his little finger and that there was very little that he could actually deny his lover. He was whipped and had been since the day he had admitted to his love for Sean. Sean laughed over Glen's edict. The only reason he kept pushing the issue was because he loved Glen's reaction to it. Besides this wouldn't be the last time they had sex or exchanged blow jobs in the presence of family. Neither one of them had that much self control. Sean could honestly care less who was around when he was in the mood and he knew Glen honestly didn't either... he just had a hard time when someone acknowledged it. Sean had a feeling that Scott had done so to put Dave more at ease. Ha! If Kevin and Scott hadn't spent all night fucking then they probably would have added to the noise factor themselves. Kevin was no slouch in the noise department. As they pulled into the arena, having already checked into the hotel and stopped for a bite to eat, Sean decided that they should go find Dave, Shawn, and Hunter at some point just so he could find out what was going on. He was nosy and he'd be the first to admit it! Shawn and Dave he could have guessed about, but how in the world had Hunter ended up with them... and he had no doubt that Hunter was with them. And what was Stephanie going to say about it? Worse yet, what was Vince going to say about it? As soon as the car stopped, Sean bounced out the door in his customary manner and waited for Glen to round the car. The two of them headed into the building and were faced with an interesting sight. Copeland was sitting on the floor, obviously hurt, with Shawn and Hunter beside him; Dave was holding onto a struggling Chris Jericho and had one foot planted on Terry's back. Glen immediately volunteered assistance to Dave. He'd never really cared for the 'man-beast' so he wasn't as gentle as he could have been. As soon as Dave moved his foot and Terry started to move, Glen took a seat right in the middle of his back. Sean was laughing like a loon until he figured out what had Chris in an uproar, then he just sent a menacing glare at the back of Terry's head and followed it up with a not-so-gentle smack or two when Rhyno whined about the weight. In the midst of all this chaos, in walked Kev and Scott. "What the hell is going on?" And Vince... **** The workout he'd done today had been light by his standards, but he'd doubled his repetitions since he hadn't bothered to add more weight when Shawn was done doing his own lifts. Ty would be laughing his ass off if he had seen what Dave had actually done today. Of course it had been awhile since he and Ty had indulged in their lifting competitions... ever since Ty and Jay had become attached at the hips. As he finished, he toweled himself off while Shawn checked to see if Hunter was ready to go. He spent another lazy moment sitting on the bench watching Hunter finish up and grab his own towel. He'd been so caught up in watching a drop of sweat traveling down Hunter's chest that he hadn't noticed Shawn moving to the door. The tone of Shawn's voice had him off the bench and out the door right beside Hunter. Not friendly? It sounded like someone was a little beyond enraged. Chris, he noted as they spotted him down the hallway with Terry face first on the ground. It took him another moment to spot Adam and realize what had set Chris off. As Hunter and Shawn knelt next to Adam, Dave noted the red smear on the wall and grimaced even as he wrapped his arms around Chris and tried to pull him off of Terry. He'd just dodged an elbow and gotten his arms wrapped around Chris' biceps when Chris happened to mention Terry's endowments. It was all Dave could do not to laugh despite the seriousness of the situation. "No, fuck you! No! Fuck you! Let go!" He wasn't about to let go, but when Terry tried to push up off the floor he did manage to put one foot squarely in the middle of his back and growl "Stay put." Terry apparently wasn't up for another confrontation with Chris because he did exactly as Dave told him to. He was all for letting Chris go to wreak havoc on the dark-haired man, but he knew there was other stuff that Chris needed to be doing at the moment. "Stop Chris," he said quietly in the blond's ear, "I promise he's not going anywhere and if you want to beat the hell out of him later, I'll help you do it. Right now I think you need to go over there so that Adam knows you're okay. He's not going to settle down until he knows." He'd thought he might finally be getting through when he heard the question from behind him. "Like some help with that?" Nodding in Terry's direction, Dave took his foot off of Terry's back and almost laughed when Glen sat on the man. Seems Glen held no love for Terry either. The man was just tough shit out of luck with this crowd. "What the hell is going on?" Oh shit. Just what they didn't need. Vince did not look happy at all. Chris was once again struggling to get free and when he saw Hunter's nod, Dave let him go. He watched as Chris scrambled over to Adam's side and Hunter stood. And what did his illustrious mentor have to say about this whole situation? "A fight?" Dave turned away as quickly as possible, not able to hide the grin on his face. Hands on his hips, he smiled at Glen who was having a time of hiding his own smirk. He also noticed Scott and Kevin standing off to one side. Scott was glaring at a point off to the side and following his eyes, Dave noted one Johnny Nitro standing a little ways down the hall with an obvious grin of mischief on his face. Wondering if that's who they had to thank for Vince's presence, Dave glowered at the man as well. Oh god... Vince. He had left his sunglasses in the locker room because he hadn't needed them for his workout and he hadn't given a second thought to going down to makeup after Shawn's little striptease. Hoping against hope that Vince wouldn't notice his previous injuries, Dave made every effort to keep his back to the man. **** Kevin's laying a hand on his thigh was nothing new even while they were driving. Hell they'd done a lot worse things while driving than being touchy-feely with each other. It was probably surprising they'd never wrecked a car while doing some of those things. They did usually confine those kinds of things to open road or at the very least under cover of darkness. Thus the suspicious look that Scott directed towards his lover. The smile really didn't fool him. Kevin, innocent? Yeah, right. Maybe when he was five. As Kevin's hand slid higher on his thigh, Scott seriously considered turning the car around and heading back to the hotel. If he weren't already a candidate for Vince's 'shit list', he probably would have done so. By the time he pulled into the parking lot he was trying to rationalize with himself as to why they shouldn't just leave. Vince probably wouldn't even notice that they weren't there. The long slow stroke against the front of his pants had him moaning huskily, a slight thrust of his hips pushing his awakening length against Kevin's hand. If Kevin so much as blushed the tiniest bit while at the arena, Scott would be all over him without a second thought, even if they had to lock someone out of their own locker room so he could accomplish it. "So... ready to go in and face the overwhelming excitement of absolutely nothing to do?" "Oh yeah. I�m so excited I might just burst into song." That wasn't at all sarcastic... was it? As they passed through the doorway, Scott decided to carry on in that theme. "I suppose I could get excited over having to appear before our ever benevolent... what the hell?" Scott tilted his head to the side as he took in the scene in front of them. "Maybe a little excitement after all, eh chico?" he said with a nod at the growing circle of bodies around them. "I didn't do it, Kev, I swear." Scott threw his hands up as he proclaimed his innocence and then started to laugh quietly; at least until he saw Vince headed their way with Nitro on his heels. Nitro drew to a halt a little ways down the hall and smirked when he caught Scott looking at him. That's when Scott finally noticed who was in the middle of that circle... Hunter, Shawn, Dave, Glen, and Sean... among others. Fuck. Nitro would be lucky to walk out of the arena under his own steam at the end of the night if Scott had anything to say about it. **** Jeff felt the pocked plaster of the wall start to make imprints in his forehead. At least his heart-rate was back to normal now that he'd had his fine little hissy fit. God what a day, what a year. He was just so tired of all this. The politics... the discussions. In the past Matt had taken care of all their contracts but now... well. It was obvious why his older brother was known as the brains of their outfit. This sucking up to the authorities was not something he managed very well at all. And wasn't that the understatement of the year. Jeff's lean body�shivered as the reality of his situation sank in. So what now? No contract, and never likely to be, with the WWE. He could head back into meetings with TNA but if all they wanted to offer was him jobbing to Jarrett every other month,�then he'd rather be unemployed. His music career had pretty much died in the ass and let's face it, was it that much to begin with? Music, despite his love for it, had never had his heart and soul like this parasite business called pro-wrestling.�At least Jeff knew he was good at this, unlike the music gurus who basically just fed him lines till in�a self-pitying daze, he believed them. Opening his eyes Jeff, lifted one fingernail to pick at the cracking plaster in front of his chin. Back home? Nah. Jeff was far too fucked up beyond�all reason to taint his family for more than a few days. Their unequivocal love and affection would be like lemon on a paper cut right now. He was too weak to face all those hurdles. So lonely, pathetic Jeffy's gonna run away again? Well fuck! What worth was there in hanging around like a dead relative? If he wanted to get repeatedly kicked in the nuts, he'd look up an ex-boyfriend for the job. Jeff. Jeff nearly jumped out of his boots at his name said so softly to his right. His punkish "I just don't understand why Son" hair began to crackle as the owner of that voice registered in his morose thoughts. No. There was no way the one person he'd run into would be Mark Calloway. Life couldn't hate him that much could it? Obviously he was damned because that deep voice, with just a hint of Texan honey, continued. Tell me. A man of few words this one, but when he made his point so concisely who needed more? Shit. Jeff really didn't have his defenses in place right now to deal with a curious Undertaker. But since he hadn't had any defenses against the man since their brief feud two years ago, being vulnerable around him wasn't that unusual. Snagging his sleeve with his fingers, Jeff turned away slightly to wipe away the shameful moisture that had gathered on his lashes. Such a cry baby. "Hey 'Taker," he said coolly, turning back to rest one shoulder against the wall, arms still crossed defensively over his chest. "It's cool, just called in to visit Amy and give Pat an update on Matt. He's good by the way." He'd take a few to spread the word about his brother's surgery to the locker room. Everyone there liked Matt and would be concerned about his recovery, so Jeff was happy to play messenger. And god, didn't Mark just look to die for as usual? A sleeveless hoody showing off all those wicked tattoos Jeff had often imagined tracing with his tongue, slight ginger-black stubble across�ivory cheeks and damp black hair clinging to that stubble and eyelashes like a tenacious lover. Hair envy didn't even begin to cover Jeff's fascination with the Dead Man, both inside and out. Mark was like one of those weird European books he liked to read so much, on the first read you said WTF and tried to remember what it had been about. Third and forth time through you started to get the drift until finally you managed to ouzel out what drugs the writer had been on in the first place. Mark was Jeff's unusual manuscript. He would really have liked the chance to get past page one. Seeing the look of dissatisfaction on Mark's�intent face, Jeff had doubts that the big man believed his casual answer. So what? He could lie if he wanted to. 'Taker couldn't care if Jeff lived or died as far as he knew. Although... that was probably cruel. Mark was a decent guy who would care if a co-worker was in trouble. That kind of person had no business being in the same world as Jeff Hardy. Deciding to give 'Taker at least the courtesy of part of the truth, Jeff shrugged like he didn't give a damn. "Vince was talking about a come-back but I fucked that up with Melrose so... whatever." Jeff looked at the floor to hide the hot disappointment he felt at that turn of events. "Looks like Jeff Hardy's gonna go out with a whimper rather than a big bang. Pity." Another shrug to indicate his total lack of care for the situation. "Gotta go man, be seeing ya." It was pure cowardice that had Jeff moving past Mark to escape towards the car park but he was just about on the verge of losing it again and Mark was the last man he wanted to witness that event. **** Shawn took in the events with a glance, his eyes narrowing as he connected Terry with Adam's crumpled form. Jericho seemed to have Terry well in hand, though. A malicious smile flickered across Shawn's lips at that thought before he dropped to his knees next to the fallen blond, the smile wiped from his face by worry. "Adam? Adam, you'll be okay," he said, hopefully reassuringly, half-listening as his lovers caught up. And then Hunter was there, and Adam seemed to be breathing a little better. Hopefully that hitch in his breath didn't mean broken ribs; even cracked ones were nasty, and given Jericho's reaction, Shawn suspected that both of the blonds would be pretty upset if Adam's movement were limited. The blood on the back of his head didn't worry Shawn nearly so much; head wounds always bled buckets, and the fact that this one was already clotting reassured him that it wasn't too serious. At worst he'd probably have a concussion, at best an incredibly nasty headache. At least, Shawn thought as he glanced at Jericho, there wouldn't be any worries about who would keep an eye on Adam tonight. The EMTs arriving forced him back, and he moved around Adam's form to stand next to Hunter, unashamedly leaning into his body for comfort. He and Adam weren't terribly close, to say the least, but this... this was horrific. Watching Jericho's reaction as he hit the ground next to Adam with a thud that sent a sympathetic ache through Shawn's own knees told Shawn everything he needed to know about the situation. Looks like last night had been a night of new beginnings for a lot of people. His eyes narrowed at Terry, still clutching his hand and cursing and... being sat on by Glen? His eyebrows raised briefly in surprise before he caught sight of Sean off to the side. Wrapping an arm around Hunter, he looked up at his friend with a tight frown on his face. "You'll take care of this, right?" It wasn't really a question, and at the look on Hunter's face, Shawn nodded at Terry, finally being looked at by one of the EMTs. "He needs to pay, Hunter." He knew he'd never asked Hunt to pull strings before, but this time... shaking his head, he wished that he were on better terms with Vince these days. Sure, he could get what he wanted, but there were limits; Vince knew him far too well. Pushing those thoughts away before they could affect him, he watched Jericho as he hovered over Adam, wishing that he were a good enough friend to go to him and offer what comfort he could. But he wasn't even really a friend, was he? God knew he'd tried, when they were working their program together, but Jericho had always been a little distant. Not so much as to be unfriendly, but enough to make it clear that he didn't want anything more than the good working relationship they had. Shawn had always regretted that distance, never sure if it were something he'd done, the Clique, or something else altogether. He smiled slightly as Chris looked up and met his eyes, hoping that that at least would help a little. "What the hell is going on?" Speak of the devil. As he looked up, Shawn couldn't help but picture Vince with horns and a tail; it wasn't that much of a stretch. He reluctantly pulled away from Hunter before Vince could notice their position, not wanting to make Hunt's upcoming discussion with his father-in-law any more difficult than it would already be. He spotted Kevin and Scott behind Dave, and followed Scott's glare to one very smug-looking Johnny Nitro. His fists clenched briefly at the pleased spark in those eyes; if the little bastard thought this was fun, he had another thing coming. And from the look on Scott's face, he'd make sure he got it. "A fight?" A snort of laughter escaped him before he could muffle it, earning him Vince's glare. He met the man's gaze steadily, not losing the small curve to his lips. It had been a long, long time since Vince could intimidate him, and Hunt's answer had perfectly suited the question. The man's attention was almost immediately caught by the people around him, however, and the EMT who stood up to talk quietly with him. Shawn took the opportunity to edge closer to Dave, patting him surreptitiously on the shoulder as he cast another look at Kev and Scott. Kevin had a hand on Scotty's arm and was talking to him in a low undertone, so at least there would be no further explosions from that direction. Turning to survey the damage again, he caught Sean watching him and Dave with an intently curious expression, and groaned quietly. If he could just get the other two back to Evolution's locker room so that he could fulfill his plans, he was damned well locking the door, and he didn't care who came knocking, it wasn't going to be opened until he was done drinking Dave dry. That thought in mind, he looked back up at the big man, his eyes glowing a bit. "Looks like things are starting to calm down. I think we should get back to the locker room to shower and change, and maybe stay out of the way for a while." The huskiness in his voice probably gave him away, but he didn't care. Catching Hunter's eye, he motioned at himself and Dave, and then Hunter, before pointing toward their room. **** Watching as the younger man almost visibly gathered himself, Mark could see the walls going up, even if the hand sneaking up to brush across his eyes hadn't been as stealthy as obviously hoped. The pause before answering made him worry that he'd chosen the wrong approach altogether, but he wasn't too sure that there was a right one for this man. All wound up, all ego and talk and attitude and shock value, but with so many insecurities poking holes through that wall... Mark had started to see beneath it during their short run together and had been sucked into those swirling depths before he'd realised it. Two years later, he was still trying to get back out. He hoped. But he realised as he watched Jeff straighten up, his posture screaming 'leave me alone I'm fine dammit!' that all he wanted to do was reach out and gather the young man into his arms and hold him and protect him... He rolled his eyes. What a load of crap. Even if Jeff were willing to let him do something like that, and Mark was pretty sure that Jeff would claw out anyone's eyeballs who actually tried it, it wasn't Mark's style to do that, either. He'd given in to that protective impulse once before with Shawn, and it had backfired horribly. That hadn't been the end of their relationship, but it had been a big clue, and he'd never repeated that mistake. "Hey 'Taker." That was an unexpected pain. He was used to the guys calling him that; hell, some of the new kids seemed to think that it was the only name he had. But in this situation... He forced it away, concentrating on the here and now. There was an odd look on Jeff's face as the k... young man, he reminded himself forcibly, looked him over, and it almost made him uncomfortable. He was still in his workout gear, of course, and sweaty as hell, but still. Before his mind could follow that line of thought any further, Jeff was talking again. "... and give Pat an update on Matt." Sure. That was why the Southern boy had traveled all the way to New York, dressed to meet Vince's backstage standard, and had just stormed out of a meeting with Vinnie Mac screaming obscenities. Of course he was only there about Matt. Mark couldn't hold back the snort and he tilted his head at Jeff, his expression both disbelieving and inviting the man to tell him more. "Looks like Jeff Hardy's gonna go out with a whimper rather than a big bang. Pity." What? Vince had hung out the possibility of a comeback to the kid and then let Melrose fuck with him? What was that man thinking? The defeated air in Jeff's downcast posture ate at Mark. He'd never seen Jeff like this before. The man was so full of himself, so sure... he must've really wanted that chance, regardless of the bullshit he was spouting. Melrose had undoubtedly brought up Jeff's unreliability and his attitude... but the attitude at least was incredibly minor. And the reliability problems... Well, if Mark had heard the rumours correctly, that had been a problem that had since been dealt with. Whatever Matt saw in Amy was beyond Mark's understanding, but apparently Jeff had seen it at one time, too. "Gotta go man, be seeing ya." Coming back to himself as Jeff started to walk past, obviously intent on escaping the arena, Mark moved before his mind had a chance to catch up with his body. He reached out and grabbed Jeff's shoulder, spinning him back around to face him, the grasp firm enough that he wasn't going to be able to just back out of it. "I didn't think you were a coward, Jeff," Mark said, watching those pained eyes. "It's not like you to run away from a challenge." He hesitated, seeing the emotions starting to overcome Jeff again, then made his decision and moved them both down the hall to his locker room, easily pulling Hardy's slight form along with him. Pushing him in first, Mark let the door close behind him as he looked steadily at Jeff, who was looking everywhere but at him. The kid looked good, that was for sure. That Goth-style suit clung in all the right places, and the fluttery cuffs and neckline only emphasised the long, graceful fingers and the bare skin peeking out from underneath the ruffles. He drew in a deep breath. God help him for what he was about to say, what he was about to do... he suspected he'd need all the help he could get. "You wait here." He raised a hand as Jeff finally looked at him, his eyes sparking angrily. "You wait. If you're not here when I come back, I'll hunt you down and drag you back. You understand me?" Waiting for a reaction, Mark wondered if he was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. **** Chris was so angry he was almost shaking with cold fury�as he was pulled off Terry by strong arms, arms that had managed to secure his hands as well to stop him from doing any more damage to the piece of shit now keeping completely still under Dave's foot. Even in the depths of his anger, Chris recognised the grip of the big man holding him almost off the ground. Twisting and squirming CJ was too caught up in hissing his foul hatred at Terry to focus on breaking his captor's professional grip. I think you need to go over there so that Adam knows you're okay. He's not going to settle down until he knows. Batista's�deep, calm voice penetrated the white haze of rage that had dominated Chris's mind since he'd seen Adam hit the wall. His head snapping away from the grimacing man currently lying under Glen Jacobs, CJ�saw�Adam's crumpled form�trying to move, to get up, while the people surrounding him gently held him down. This time Chris put all his attention into escaping from Dave's grip, but he needn't have tried so hard. A second after he began to struggle he was free and moving, trying not to trip over the trainer as he reached his lover's side. Other than Adam's grey face, only one thing registered to Chris as he pulled the blond's hand from the ground where he'd been trying to push himself up, the presence of the two men next to him. "Thanks Hunt," he acknowledged as his friend stood up and away, allowing Chris the precious space next to Sandburg, their head EMT. "I'm here Babe, sit down Love. I'm right here, I'm fine." There was a thick gauze pad held against the back of Adam's head and�Sandburg was listening to his lungs via�a stethoscope. Letting his damaged hand rest in his lap, Chris squeezed Adam's fingers gently�until his lover looked up and blinked at him through unfocussed emerald eyes. "Now that's a good way to make sure we stay at home this week-end, Babe." Chris'�words were�teasing, but his voice betrayed the shock and fear he felt over witnessing the attack. There had been enough�'altercations' back stage over the history of the WWE to write a very large book. CJ himself had been the instigator of one of the most well known, but generally people weren't actually hurt in any of that stupidity, not like now. They'd all been�injured while�working before, that was a given, but to be deliberately and viciously damaged by a co-worker was beyond even the most generous definition of 'incident'. Chris frowned at Adam's difficulty in catching his breath. The nauseating crunch he'd heard when his lover's back had hit the wall was more than likely cracked ribs, maybe even broken. Feeling remarkably helpless and hating that feeling beyond belief, Chris gently stroked his fingers over Adam's knuckles, a place he knew wasn't painful for Adam right now. Looking up from Adam's painfully coughing form, CJ met the warm blue eyes of Shawn Michaels looking back at him with concern and affection. "Okay Adam, lets get you moved to the med bay. Can you walk, or do you want me to get a stretcher?" Sandburg asked gently, his hand on Adam's shoulder to hold the blond's wandering attention. **** I didn't think you were a coward, Jeff. It was the accusation as much as the grip on his shoulder that had Jeff spinning around to face Mark like a startled bird. Who the fuck did the Dead Man think he was, calling Jeff a coward? Hadn't he displayed, to millions of people for Christ's sake, his complete lack of any fear? And to hear that from Mark, a man who had all the respect in the world from one younger Hardy and well as every man working for this rotten company. For Mark to say that to him was like having Dom tear his guts out all over again, to be hit by a low blow when you least expected it. So what, that he'd put so much of himself into impressing the bigger man? So what, that he'd thought, like some naive kid, that he'd earned Mark's respect in return by his behaviour during their feud. Well. Fuck him then. The absolute last thing Jeff cared about was what other people, particularly Mr. You're Not Worthy to Crawl at My Feet Undertaker, thought of him. Setting his heels into the linoleum floor like a stubborn mule, Jeff pulled backwards against Mark's�firm hand. He had no chance in hell of overpowering that carelessly strong grip, but if he could pull Mark towards him, he'd be forced to correct his balance to cater for Jeff's weight. Such as it was. About to let fly with his own version of 'And You Can Kiss My Ass Too' Jeff saw the hallway blur again as he was spun again and pushed firmly into the locker room near Vince's office. Still trying to pull away, Jeff's innate grace saved him from doing a face plant when Mark released him into what Jeff could see was the big man's own room. Refusing to look at the man who'd just moved him against his will, so damn easily, Jeff turned on his heel and kicked the low table like a petulant child. The lamp, which had rested on said table, tipped over and rolled along the floor. Jeff wished it had smashed, it would've suited his mood to be ridiculously destructive. You wait here. No fucking way was that gonna happen. I'll hunt you down and drag you back. You understand me? The imperious�commands would have brought out Jeff's filthy tongue, even if he hadn't been so thrown by Mark's strange behaviour. "Fuck you too Mark. I don't jump just because you want me to." With that shot, all the anger Jeff felt at Mark suddenly drained out of him, the quicksilver play of his emotions pulling him away from anger and into snarky boredom. After all, it wasn't the big man's fault Vince had thrown him out like a�wretched whore, he could afford to do what Mark wanted. This time. Besides curiosity killed the cat right? Jeff wanted satisfaction from something tonight. Turning away from the deep eyes that seemed to control him just as much as his hands had, Jeff climbed up on the waist high bench under the mirror and crossed his legs Indian style. He pulled the short leather ribbon from his hair and riffled his hand through it to soften a�slight pull. "Fine. Go." Jeff said with a careless wave. "I need to wait somewhere for Amy to arrive anyway." **** to be continued... |