Title: Make It Better
Rated: M (Mature)
Genre(s): Romance/Drama
Pair(s): Jericho/Phil, Jeff/Adam, etc.
Summary: Sequel to Please, Don't Leave Me. Chris has finally pushed Phil too far. After his actions on Raw, it seems as if there is no way to redeem himself in Phil's eyes. Is there any way to make it better?
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Warning: Slash, Violence, Mentioned Alcoholism
A/N: When I realized that Chris wasn't planning on letting up with the whole alcohol bid, I figured I'd make it into a series. And after his actions last night… ugh. John Laureinitis is a real bastard. Punk didn't deserve that at all! So, this is what I came up with. Remember to review!
Part: 1/?
OOOO
"You look like shit, Philly." Jeff cautiously rubbed Phil's sore back, careful to avoid the little notches were the bottle had bit his skin. Phil wheezed, but otherwise did not make a sound.
"That wasn't fair, Phil. The GM should have never done that to you." Adam said. "I bet you're in a lot of pain, huh? Do you want some Tylenol?"
Phil tried to nod, but winced when it increased the painful heat in his back. "Yeah. That would be nice."
"Okay. I'll be back in a second, Philly."
Phil didn't want to remember what had occurred out there. He didn't want to remember the conversation with Mr. Laureinitis that had set the mood for that match. He didn't want to remember the Power Slam onto the concrete that rattled his lungs and set his back on fire. And he most certainly did not want to remember how his lover had come out and doused his face with alcohol, and then busted a bottle on the back of his head. But it was there every time he closed his eyes. And no matter how hard he tried, the vision wouldn't leave.
"Phil?" Jeff asked after a minute.
Phil took a slow breath, but even that made his chest hurt. "Yeah?"
"Do you still love Chris?"
Phil was silent for a moment, mulling it over. A question like that really shouldn't have required so much thought. But after all that Chris had done, he just wasn't sure anymore. "I don't know."
Jeff 'tsked', shaking his head slowly. Miniature blond braids flew back and forth like propellers. "I need a definite answer, Philly."
"Why is that?"
Jeff shrugged. "If I hunt him down and beat him to a bloody fucking pulp for what he did to you, I want to know if you'll still talk to me."
That brought a smile to Phil's face. "I don't doubt that you would do that, Jeffy. But, really, there's no need for violence. There was plenty of that out in the ring. No… right now? All I want to do is close my eyes and sleep for a hundred years."
The knock on the door resonated through the small hotel room. "Well, I'm not too sure if that will happen anytime soon."
"I don't want to see him."
Jeff understood. He would do his best to keep the other man out. The only problem was the fact that this was Chris' hotel room also… and the only reason that he wasn't here now was the fact that Phil had stolen his keycard. He had also told the front desk not to hand him another one. The woman had looked at him oddly, but Adam had flashed her a small smile and she had melted like butter. Carefully, Jeff lifted Phil off of his lap and set him so that his stomach was flat on the mattress. Once he was covered with the blanket, Jeff made his way toward the door.
He didn't bother to check who it was. Everyone already knew. Who else would come to the hotel room, most likely drunk, at this hour? He opened the door and stared at the man on the other side. Chris' hair was astray, almost as if he had been running his hand through it multiple times. His eyes were red and swollen, betraying his true emotions even as his face was schooled into a mask. Hesitantly, he met Jeff's stare, but quickly looked away. Chris already felt awful about what he did… he didn't need to be reminded of what a horrible husband he was.
"Is Phil here -,"
Jeff cut him off. "You crossed a line out there, Irvine. Constantly humiliating him on live television wasn't enough for you, huh? No… now you had to kick the man while he was down. Are you happy?"
Chris shook his head. "No. No, of course not! How could I be happy when I hurt my husband?"
Jeff's eyes widened, anger quickly filling the void of emotion in his features. "That 'love' for your husband certainly wasn't there when you cracked a bottle over his head and knocked him unconscious, was it?"
"Please -,"
"Phil doesn't want to see you."
There was a moment of silence as Chris' eyes widened, and Jeff took that moment to shut the door. He expected another knock to come, but it never did. So instead, he walked back over to the bed and resituated Phil on his lap. By this time, Adam had come back with the Tylenol and Jeff could tell that it had started to take affect. The pain was lesser and Phil was almost asleep. Slowly, Jeff stroked a hand over Phil's hair. It was partially meant for comfort, but also to make sure that he had taken out all of the glass.
Adam turned to his husband. "Jeff?"
"Shh…" Jeff motioned down to Phil, who had just managed to fall asleep.
Carefully, Adam and Jeff made themselves comfortable on the twin bed. It was a tad difficult, especially with the third addition, but they managed to make due. In that one moment, Jeff and Adam knew that they would do whatever they could to heal Phil in the future… because Creative just wouldn't let this end. But the truth was still there. They would do as much as they could, but until Phil chose to confront Chris, this would never get better. Only Chris could make Phil happy again…
…because, as of now, the future looked grim.
OOOOO
A/N: I still can't believe that Jericho did that last night! Ugh… anyway, hope you liked it so far. This will be updated as their storyline progresses on Raw/Smackdown, so not as regularly as some of my other stories, but expect updates soon! Please review!