Title: From One Dream To Another
Chapter 1: The Hardy Boyz

Rating: PG-13 (just to be safe)

Author: Jeff's Favourite Skittle

Genre: Wrestling Drama/Action (?)

Completed: 7/9/10

Disclaimer: Sadly, we do not own any of the fabulous (and sometimes no so fabulous) superstars you see here. We own.um. well.we'll get back to you on that one.

Summary: A joint story by extreme 3:16 and Jeff's Favourite Skittle. This is a series of short stories about the WWE Superstars and they're past dreams or past jobs, and how they rose to become future WWE Superstars.

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"Jeff? Jeff? Are you alright, JEFF?"

14-year-old Jeff Hardy could hardly hear the frantic yells that came from above him. A cool wind whipped over the baseball field, making ripples on the trampled grass, blowing softly over his sweaty face. He lay face down on the grass, motionless. He felt strong hands turn him over onto his back, and he moaned gently in silent pain.

"Jeff?' The voice was frantic and worried, Jeff? Can you hear me? Can you move? Jeff, speak to me, please!"

Two clouded green eyes fluttered open, vision blurred. Jeff could make out his older brother flitting nervously above him. He could hear other noises now, anxious shocked murmurs as the other players ran towards them, gloves and bats dropping to the ground with a thud as they went.

"You're awake!' This did little for the concern in Matt Hardy's voice as he propped his baby brothers head on his knees, smoothing back his golden hair as he went, It's OK, help will be here soon. Bro, what happened?"

"I don't know" Was all Jeff could seem to murmur, as he closed his eyes again, the comfort of soft hands stroking his matted hair and the dizziness of trying to focus becoming all too seductive for him, taking him directly back to the blackness.

He could focus on his own breathing, escaping his body as fast as it would come. And there was pain, shooting up and down his left arm in hot spurts, agonizing pain he had never felt before. He tried to block it out and think back to what happened. As he returned to the darkness that was his unconscious mind, he tried to think of how he had ended up writhing on the cold pitch in pain.

~*~

It was the grand final game for the Cameron Midget League and the South Carolina West. There had been 9 complete innings, and the hometown team, the Midget League, was leading by one run. It was Jeff's turn to pitch. He walked out from the bleachers, nervously adjusting his baseball cap as he went, ignoring the supportive cheers from his fellow team mates whom where positioned as defence on the field. This was that they had worked so hard for.

Practise after practice after practice, the team had trained energetically .especially Jeff. The coach and team prided on Jeff being their best pitcher, he was okay with a bat, but he was an all star when it came to pitching. He had the technique down pat, sometimes the team's best batters; Mark and Shane, even had trouble keeping up with Jeff's forearm. Jeff had glowed silently under the praise, he had imagined how happy his father and brother would be.

And there they where, sitting in the audience benches as Jeff made his way onto the field. He felt a blush adorn his cheeks as a loud cheering and screams of encouraging words came from the two, lowering his head so they couldn't see him smile. That was all he needed to calm the butterflies in his stomach, his family's support.

He stood on the diamond, watching silently as the other teams batter glared menacingly back at him. But Jeff didn't fear him, like always, and refused to be intimidated by the batter, who looked stronger and bigger than Jeff, who was thin and gangly for his age.

The hot North Carolina sun beat down harshly on his neck as both teams waited for the referee to return to the field. Fingering the ball nervously, Jeff did what he always did when he was anxious; he let his mind drift back into inspiring thoughts. Thoughts of how hard the team had worked, using drive and ability in all of their games, coming in the under dogs and going out the winners, marginal as the victories may have been.

Baseball had always been a dream of the Hardy brothers, and their father had coached them seriously ever since they had first displayed an interest in the sport. Their father started coaching Matt when he was seven, and Jeff would be taught too in time, when he hit the seven-year-old mark. Their father had been wowed by their athleticism, Matt-showing progress by using his strength and direction with a bat to his advantage, and Jeff, slowly coming along in his own less direct path. All Jeff and Matt Hardy wanted to do was become pro baseball players, and make their small hometown and father proud.

They played baseball for years, their skills heightening with age and experience. Then, when Matt (who was three years older) had entered high school, he unexpectedly dropped baseball totally. This had shocked Jeff and his father beyond belief, but the eldest Hardy took it more simply, saying that sports where taken too seriously in high school, and that the political side of baseball made him lose interest and would saying nothing more on the subject. The other two Hardy males never quiet got over it, because Matt had so much potential, and it only made Jeff work harder to achieving and defeating the goals that Matt had set.

Since Jeff had entered high school, he picked right up where Matt left off. Now it was Jeff's turn to make his big brother proud and live up to his father's standards.

But the two people Jeff wanted to make proud most of all, was his mother in heaven and himself.

Isolation gripped the youngest Hardy as the referee ran briskly back onto the field. He took one last look at his team mates poised around the field, all friends, who seemed so far away and almost restrained from helping, and a look to his father and brother, anxious excitement lighting a fire in both pair of brown eyes as the referee shouted "PLAY"

Suddenly feeling very sick, Jeff motionlessly crossed himself, and hoped his mother was watching. He stood facing the opposing batter in the Windup position he was taught to by his father, the ball held infront of him with two hands, his pivot foot behind the pitcher's plate, his other foot free. He only hoped that he wouldn't throw the ball over the foul line, or mess something up. He cautiously made sure not to put his hands anywhere near his mouth, and waited to see if the referee had seen him do anything wrong. Matt's words ran through Jeff's head "No matter what the referee says, don't argue with it or mouth off. In the end, the match is in his hands" When the referee gave him the go ahead, Jeff reeled his arm back and threw the ball straight across the pitch.

His body bought into a state of shock and sick relief as the batter made a wild swing and the first strike was called. A cold sweat came over him as he ground his foot onto the plate. His friend, and his team's catcher, Josh Matthews, returned the ball. Jeff caught the faint glimpse of an assuring smile as Josh threw the ball back to him, positioning his stout frame behind the opposition's batter.

A tremor of emotion flowed through all the people present as Jeff pitched in the Windup position again, his mind running full speed trying to remember all the things he had been taught. Cheers and moans surged through the crowds, and Jeff could feel the emotion as the referee called the second strike.

Jeff knew it was his job to get the opposition's final batter out.quickly, to prevent any more runs being scored. The game, the victory or defeat of his team rode on his shoulders. Maybe he was taking it too seriously, but baseball was such an important part of his life, and to see his team, that had defied all odds thrown their way, hanging their heads as they walked off the field, would be heartbreaking.

Steeling his bright green eyes in the sunlight, Jeff lowered his cap over his face, and prepared for the final pitch.

The pitch that would change his life.

It all happened in a heartbeat; Jeff had known that because he had been focusing on drumming in his chest. Drawing his arm back, he thought back to many of his hard days of training. Of how Matt had begged him to take a break when he had said his shoulder was hurting, but he ignored the advice, while his father looked on silently as the scene unfolded, his hard eyes expressing his wordless concern. How almost every day, the same indications would happen, after a few throws his left arm and collarbone would become clammy and tight, a gentle throbbing would start, and it would eventually turn into a throbbing so bad, that he would bite his lip to stop himself crying out.

But ever time it happened; he ignored it. Looking back 12 years later, a part of him wished he had listened to the subconscious voice whispering reason in his ear, and the other part loved more than anything that he had ignored help.

He came back to reality and let the ball fly with all the power he possessed in his youthful being. The second the ball was released; he felt it without having to hear it. His left arm seared electrically, from the bottoms of his fingertips through his arm socket, and stopping as it surged through his shoulder blade. The pain was so severe, and came without so much as a warning or a chance at defence, it was alike to being shot with a bullet, or lashed with a stock whip.

Loud noises erupted all around him as he yelped in pain, his body shielding itself by shutting down entirely as he saw the dry pitch come up to meet him.

And then.blackness.

~*~

Jeff moaned as he came out of the previous events of his unconscious mind, whispering a silent goodbye to the comforting darkness, as he was forced to reality by a pain that was all too real for his shut down body to handle.

His brother and father where the first to meet him as he came back, feeling his brother's steadying hands clasped firmly around his sides as he bolted upright, yelling out in pain. He met their worrying gazes as his mind started functioning and his sight focused.

"Where am I?"

His voice was drawled and unsure; almost slightly afraid as his father replied calmly "At home" Jeff slumped back into his bed, letting the cool covers massage his sore shoulders as Matt looked over him worriedly. He could feel his left arm throbbing painfully, raw intense spurts shooting up and down the length of his arm like a rocket.

"The doctor left just after you woke up"

Jeff was secretly glad he had missed the medical presence; he had had a thing about doctors and hospitals ever since his mother died.

There was a lengthy pause, and when Jeff became too afraid of the silence, he asked, "What did he say?"

Another pause. Matt murmured something inaudible to Jeff's hearing to their father, who nodded stiffly and walked out of the room. Jeff's stomach sank as Matt seated himself carefully on the edge of the bed. This meant trouble.

"Jeffro' Matt began slowly, his eyes wandering to Jeff arm, do you remember that motocross accident you had a couple of months back?"

Jeff remembered. It was his second motocross race on the Cameron circuit. He had seriously gotten into motocross bikes when he was 13, the speed and adrenaline being a huge turn on for him. His father bought him a used Yamaha YZ-8o and they fixed it up. He caved later and bought Jeff an expensive Suzuki RM-125 when he saw how much his youngest son loved riding.

After going to a few races with his friend Alan Thomas and his family and loved the thought of racing MX style. He was nervous as anything in the second race, and tried to remember how much fun his first race had been. The race was going well, but Jeff crashed and broke his shoulder and collarbone.

"I remember" Jeff said softly, fighting not to cringe at the thought of just how painful that accident had been.

Matt's voice became deadly serious as he looked Jeff in the eyes "And do you remember that the doctor said you where supposed to rest easy for six months and not play any baseball until it healed?"

That comment left Jeff stunned. He had ignored the doctor, nodding like a good boy in the doctor's surgery as they explained the severeness of his injuries, and only half listening when his Dad warned him again harshly in the car, but he had never paid any attention to it, shrugging it off like it was no big deal and not mentioning it again.

He stayed silent, his eyes submissively in his lap, but his mind alert and working over time, desperately anticipating Matt's next words. "You've really done it this time, Jeff" Matt's words where a soft sigh, like a parent telling off a child. Jeff couldn't be mad at him, but wanted to scream as Matt left his mind suspended with questions.

"If you must know the truth' Matt said slowly, his tone softly strangled and his face a mixture of emotion, you only made your arm worse. The shoulder blade and your collar bone are really fragile now, and. I think that it is going to affect your pitching arm. For good."

~*~

The Cameron Midget League won the League trophy for that year, with Jeff being given the prestigious "Most Valuable Player" Award for his hard earned efforts. He found out later that he had managed to get the ball to go straight just before he passed out, and with the combination of the West batter's confusion and Jeff's final effort, the ball had whizzed straight through the strike zone untouched, winning it for his team.

The team won the trophy the next year and the year after that, but it was not the youngest Hardy Boy that helped them climb the ladder on their way to championship gold. It pained Jeff not to be able to return to the diamond again, but no matter how hard he tried, his arm wouldn't ever be the same after the disaster, having to live with the thought that it was his own ignorance that lead him there.

Jeff was never forgotten for his labouring, and through the many matches the rest of the team played without him, they would always argue amongst themselves whether or not so and so had played up to Jeff's par, and could never seem to find a moment that could come close. Jeff would only smile and the same part of him would die inside.

The thought of leaving behind his first childhood dream tortured him inside.

It was a curse. and a blessing.

The next year when the a freshman pitcher Shannon Moore, Jeff's best friend, would be guiding the team, that his new best friend had been immortalized in not so long ago, to victory, Jeff and Matt Hardy would be getting their first taste of a pay-per-view; watching Wrestle Mania 3.

And while Shannon continued thinking of how sad it was that Jeff and Matt had to drop gracefully from the baseball world in such a cruel way, both brothers knew an important chapter in their young lives was ending, whether they wanted it too or not.

After being caught up in the glitz and glamour of the wrestling world, another career door was opening up for the Hardy Brothers. Little did Shannon know; he would be following the same dream sooner than he thought.

~*~

Whew, that took a while! * Wipes sweat from forehead * Sorry, that was kind of more of a novel than a short story, but don't blame me, I am not a short story writer. Hopefully extreme 3:16 will do better on that front. The next chapter is handed over to him! And I'll return *hopefully * for chapter three!

Now it's your turn.yes, YOU! Tell me and my partner in crime.

Who you would like to see written about:

The Job/Dream they had before becoming a wrestler:

Any background information:

And we'll see what we can do for ya! And if you want to know (by any chance) what parts of that where actually REAL, then e-mail me (Yes, I am The Hardy Boyz Fanatic! I live in the past, and am damn proud of it!) I kinda also noticed that chapter was more to do with Jeff.hehe.sorry guys and girlz, I love Matt heaps too, but I guess I got carried away.

This was also pretty challenging for me, because I know NOTHING whatsoever about baseball! Once again, if I made any mistakes, you can alert me if you feel like it.

I would love your feed back on how I can do better, and who you want to see written about, so if you are gonna flame, make it decent.

~Live 4 The Moment~

~Jeff's Favourite Skittle~