Story Title: Unexpected

Author: Tammi aka Skittlezlvr79

Category: Wrestling/Het

Rating: M for language and situations

Pairing: Jeff/Maria, mentions of Jeff/Trish

Spoilers: The result of October 4th episode of RAW.

Summary: After his return and Trish's marriage, Jeff has to put the pieces back together and try to prove himself again.

Disclaimer: No infringement is intended and I don't own the people used in this work of fiction. They belong to themselves. The company and their respective onscreen persona's belong to Vince McMahon and the World Wrestling Entertainment.

The scene had become all too familiar over the last few weeks. The bed was a mess of twisted, rumpled sheets and blankets. His listless frame was sprawled haphazardly among the chaos. His eyes were closed and he was oblivious to everything around him at the moment. Headphone ear-buds were pressed tightly into his ears and an IPOD rested on his bare chest. That chest rose and fell steadily as the figure on the bed drew in shuddering breaths in time with the tinny beat of his music.

Matt sighed and shook his head in disgust. He hated seeing his younger brother moping, especially over something like this. But unfortunately, he was the kind of person who had constant battles with depression. He pushed off the doorway and made his way through the clothes and magazines littering the floor. There was no movement from the other man as he stood over the bed so he shook him to gain his attention.

Watery emerald green eyes opened and focused on him. A grimace crossed his face, followed by flat, dull resignation of the situation. An overly loud puff of air fell over his lips as he addressed his unwanted company, "What?"

"You've got to get out of bed. This isn't good…"

"No, what's not good is my life." The words were flat and bitter, touched with a hint of self-loathing. "But of course, it's all my fault."

One eyebrow rose as he looked at his brother. He wanted someone else to pity him so that way it wasn't a one-sided pity party. Too bad. He wasn't in the mood to coddle the younger man and pretend that the hell he was living in was anything less than his own making. "Yeah, it is. You left her three years ago and just expected her to wait for you in case you ever decided to come back? Not very realistic."

Jeff groaned, running a hand roughly over his face and averted his gaze. "Never work a suicide hotline man. The rates would soar."

"Trish is gone. She retired so she could get married and have a normal life with her new husband." His tone softened. "I know that it's not easy but you have to let her go and find a way to be happy for her."

"Easier said than done." The reply was little more than an annoyed grouse; "You should know that better than anybody after everything you went through."

The barb hurt but he kept is features schooled to an impassive look, not about to give the younger man the satisfaction of knowing it had been a direct hit. "I do and that's why you should take my advice."

"But I love her and that's never going to change." A rough swallow trailed the pronouncement. "No matter how much time passes or what happens. Plus, I don't think that I could ever love anyone else."

"You can. Sure, it doesn't seem like it right now but someday you'll fall in love with another girl. And when that day comes, you'll forget all about this."

"I doubt it. No one will ever understand me the way she did…" A sigh tumbled from his mouth, "I should have gone up to Toronto and stopped the wedding."

"We both know that it would have been a bad idea. You ruining the happiest day of her life wouldn't have exactly endeared you to her. She probably would have strangled you with her garter."

Jeff shook his head, his hand barely waving in a dismissive gesture. "Whatever. I'm wrong, ok? Can we change the subject because I'm tired of this conversation?"

"Good because you know that there's plenty of women out there who'd love to date you."

He gave a bitter sounding scoff at the notion. "Oh yeah, I'm a real catch. A former drug addicted flake that has trouble keeping his job and is still in love with his ex-girlfriend from three years ago. Who could resist that?"

"Since when do you label yourself?" Matt's eyebrows and tone rose in alarm as he studied his brother.

"I don't." A sneer of contempt twisted his lips, "But the internet sure as hell does."

His brows knitted together as he frowned, "Since when do you go on the net? I thought you hated it and swore it off a long time ago."

"Yeah I hate it and I did swear it off."

"Then why did you go on?"

"I just wanted to see…" But instead of finishing his sentence, he merely shrugged.

Confusion was etched into his face and colored his words. "You wanted to see? See what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Jeff, it obviously does if you brought it up. So tell me so I can understand why it got to you."

"I wanted to see what people were saying. About me. My return. Just everything." An indignant, mirthless chuckle punctuated that announcement. "Should've known that it wouldn't be anything good. I mean, it never has been so why would anything have changed?"

Matt folded his arms over his chest and trained a stern glare on the younger man. "Ok, the pity party needs to stop. Feeling sorry for yourself won't do a damn thing but make people not want to be around you. And you don't want that, right?"

"Does it matter what I want?" Jeff posed the question sarcastically and answered it before the older man could. "Because it sure as hell doesn't seem like it does."

"Jeff,"

"No, save it. I'm about lectured out."

"Well I have one more for you and you're going to listen whether you want to or not." He forcefully informed him. "You need to get your ass out of this bed, take a shower and pack your clothes so you can be on time for your flight in the morning. Because this is your last chance and you can't do anything to fuck it up."

"Oh believe me, I know that." He rolled his eyes, " Not only do people keep reminding me but I've got about six people babysitting me."