Disclaimer: Vinny Mac and the WWE either own these characters or they own themselves. I'm pretty sure Michael Buffer owns himself. I'm just borrowing and I promise to put them back when I'm done. I would like to own Triple H right now, because we need to have a talk about his actions as of late.

A/N: I have ideas already of how to make this into a nice little series, but I think I'm just going to wait and see what Triple H or Shawn says. And this is the first time I've written a fic in first person. Let me know how I did.

Raw had been over for two hours. I may not be part of the show anymore, but I still keep up with the programming. After the Vengeance PPV, I made it a point to be at home at the exact time Raw began. Hell, I was taping it. My boys had finally gotten back together again. I love Shawn and Hunter and for them to form a partnership after four years nearly brought tears to my eyes. Of course, there was a bit of jealousy buried deep within those feelings, but I chose to ignore it. I wasn't a part of that anymore, but they were still my boys.

So I watched the beginning of the show. I growled at Bishoff, smiled at Hunter's introduction of our friend, and laughed at Shawn's usual antics. Then I tensed as Eric issued his ultimatums to Shawn. I nearly freaked as Shawn took off. I knew it would happen. HBK is as stubborn as a damned mule. I always kept him from doing stupid stuff like that. Now I had to sit here and yell at Hunter to go get him.

When Hunter finally caught up with Shawn backstage, and they started yelling at each other, I wanted to be there so badly. I just wanted to knock their heads together and plead with them to listen to their selves. Hey it was a notion that was proven to work before. Shawn had to understand that Hunter would never make him his lackey and Hunter had to understand that Shawn was hurting from being offered a place in the limelight. Then I collapsed back in my chair as Shawn agreed to think about it. I had to admit; Hunter made a good choice by bringing up Austin's actions. HBK always hated to disappoint fans. But, after that, I had to go and mix myself a little drink, just enough to calm my nerves.

When Big Show basically challenged Shawn, I had to restrain myself from going down there and kicking ass. Everyone knows that HBK cannot wrestle again. The urge and the heart is there, but the body just won't allow. I had to laugh at my reaction. The show was only an hour away from my second home. I had two, with one in California and one here. So I could have gone to make Show cry, but I didn't. I might miss something during the drive. Once a bodyguard, always a bodyguard.

Curiosity almost ate me alive when Hunter tossed Shawn that bag. At first I was simply happy that HBK found his way to Hunter's locker room. However, that bag sent a shot of anticipation through my spine. I had to know what it was.

Right before the main event, the little piece of me that still bleed neon green kicked into overdrive. I was on my feet; actually I was standing on the couch, cheering with the fans. I squashed the jealousy bug again as I saw our creation be reborn. For once, my formerly stoic self, found it appropriate to scream the words of our introduction along with Hunter. Take that Michael Buffer! I had missed it so much.

Then, even as "Suck It!" still echoed in my ears, all life around me stopped. I saw the action in slow motion: the kick, the Pedigree, and the ripping of a beloved shirt. Time picked up again as Hunter left the ring.

My heart crashed to the area around my feet. My body followed it as my knees gave way, dropping me onto the couch. At that point, most of my minds functions were gone. I could not have told you one blessed thing about the main event match.

When Hunter got into the limo, my tears began. Pain, in all its forms, poured into the hollow in my chest. Seeing Stephanie's face so soon after sent rage and anger to surround the pain. I noticed the show went off thirty minutes after it had stopped showing.

Reaching for the remote, I rewound the tape to live the pain again. Just to check and see if it actually happed.

It had.

So here I sit, two hours later. I had tried to think, watched that scene twenty-seven times, and still hurt badly. I looked up as someone knocked on the door. I opened it to find a taxi driving away and the Heartbreak Kid looking broken; the Showstopper looking stopped; Shawn not looking very Shawn-ish.

I reached out and pulled him into the house, shutting the door behind him. I took his bags from numb hands and threw them further down the hall. Then pulled the unresisting Michaels into my arms. I held him tightly as he slowly relaxed against me.

"What happened, Chyna?" he whispered into my shoulder. I didn't have an answer for him. I felt a shudder go through his body and realized that he was hurt as much as I was, more so in fact. After all, I hadn't been there.

I released Shawn and reached for his bags. Throwing one on my shoulder and carrying the other, I took his hand in my free one. I lead him to my bedroom and pushed him in the direction of the bed, placing his bags beside him. I looked to find him already stretched out, staring at the ceiling. I moved myself onto the bed and placed his head in my lap. It wasn't an unusual move. DX regularly dog-piled on each other. As he moved a little to get comfortable, a thought finally occurred to me. "How's your back?"

"That's a funny thing, Chyna." Shawn's voice was hollow. "I swear he didn't hurt me, physically. Yeah, I was knocked out for a minute, mostly shock, but he spared my back. He landed awkwardly because he took all his body weight off of me and even managed to hold my back semi-still as not to jar it badly. You know, whatever he's become, a little of our friend still resides in him, just enough to save me further injury to my spine."

"Whatever he's become." I repeated and mused for a moment. "I think you're right Shawn. He has become something else. He isn't Hunter Hearst Helmsley, he isn't Hunter, I don't even think he is Triple H. We are seeing The Game. And, even though we aren't a team anymore, Degeneration X was never meant to be played that way. We are still a family and you don't do that to family." I pulled a pillow behind me for comfort and gave a little laugh. "Gees, it sounds like we're the mafia."

He laughed with me. "So what do we do, boss?"

"For now, we sleep Shawn. In the morning, I'm calling the boys."

Shawn sighed. "You're right, Mama Chyna. It's time DX called a meeting."