Note: I'm really not good with dates, so I'm making these up, as follows. The Matt/Jeff/Lita feud went on through the last half of October, through November and the Jeff/Matt match was about November the thirtieth. The Undertaker/Jeff match was December the eighteenth, and the Matt/Taker match was December the twentieth. The APA/Hardy Boyz match mentioned is most probably fictional, but just put it back around July. Royal Rumble was January the seventeenth, and the Hardyz weren't in it. The Unforgiven belongs to Metallica.
Oooooooooooo, my favourite (almost) subject; the Hardy split. I don't know why the writers did it, and I don't care. I think it was a stupid thing to do, and was only surpassed by the idea of Christian leaving. :: snort :: As if.
Disclaim: Matt (yummy), Jeff (multicoloured goodness), Lita/Amy Dumas (I do know that the characters aren't real, gimme a break), Taker (the mean sadistic bastard) or Maven (Mmmmmmmmmmmmm).
"Leet," Matt whispered, leaning weakly on the doorframe. "My baby."
She lay in the hospital bed, looking small and fragile…too small, too fragile. Even when she was asleep she was never in this state of this…forced peacefulness. Her red hair even looked dull, washed out, against the bright white of the bed and sheets.
He walked over silently and took her hand. The doctors said she'd be out for up to a couple more hours…just enough time for him to do what he had to.
"Leet," he started. "I know we've had the biggest fight we've probably ever had or will have…but it was never your fault, or Jeff's fault. I was the stupid one, the idiot, the fuckup. My fault…my fault…my fault. Never yours. You're perfect, Lita. Perfection is lying in front of me, and I couldn't realize it until I saw you thrown…" Matt choked.
He furiously wiped his eyes. "I just wanted to tell you this in case I don't get the chance to again. Lita…you're my perfect match but I'm not good enough for you. Find someone else and be happy…but I'll always be here for you, waiting to mend a broken heart and send you on your way."
He lightly touched her lips with a fingertip, tracing them. Matt leaned over and gave her a long, sweet, goodbye kiss.
"I love you Lita." He exited the room.
Lita opened her eyes.
"Oh my God," Lita whispered. "Oh my God."
"Whassa' matter, Leet?" Jeff mumbled as he walked slowly into the room, still partially doped up on pain medication. His hair was an unruly blue and blond mess, having had no dye jobs since…the Undertaker match. The brilliant emerald green eyes Lita knew almost as well as she knew her own mother's were usually bloodshot or had that mist look to them.
Lita motioned slightly to the television screen. Jeff slowly glanced at it, not noticing anything extremely out of the ordinary besides the EMTs finally working for their money, rushing about a dark figure on a stretcher. "Who did it?" Jeff questioned, the beginning of the throbbing in his leg starting up again.
"Undertaker."
Jeff winced. "I pity the poor son of a bitch who got landed with him."
Lita looked up, unexplainable tears in her eyes. "He didn't get landed with him. He requested a match with 'Taker."
"What kind of an insane bastard would do something as stupid as challenge…" Jeff trailed off as Undertaker made for the ambulance and pulled up the figure by long black hair.
"Was the bitch worth it?" he asked in his chilling voice.
"Your insane bastard of a brother," Lita answered quietly.
In five seconds they were outta there.
"Matt Hardy," Lita breathlessly requested over twelve hours later. One, Jeff's cell had no batteries so they couldn't call for Matt's condition. Two, no spare change for pay phones. Three, the hospital was too far away for anything but a plane, and the first one had been in seven hours. Fourth, the traffic was horrible, and Lita was surprised she still had her lip intact from biting it so hard.
The nurse raised an eyebrow. "Family?" she asked.
"She's his fiancée and I'm his brother," Jeff interjected, limping slightly up to the desk.
The nurse checked through the computer and shook her head. "I'm sorry, Mr. Hardy was checked out half an hour ago."
"What?" Lita asked furiously.
"I'm sorry miss, but he insisted that he was transferred to another hospital," the nurse said apologetically.
"Which hospital?" Jeff asked quickly.
"He asked that we do not disclose that information."
"Crap," Lita hissed quietly.
Jeff placed an arm around her shoulder. "Is there any possible way we could contact him?" he questioned.
"I'm sorry, but the only thing Mr. Hardy left us was…" The nurse checked under the desk and pulled out a small box, about the size of the toolbox under the ring. "He told me to give this to a Lita?"
"That's me," Lita said quickly.
The brunette nurse handed it over with a degree of compassion. "That's a beautiful boy you have. Don't let him go."
Jeff cursed as he slammed shut the door on the rental car. "We're playing a fucking game of hide-and-seek."
Lita opened the box curiously. Her eyes filled with tears as she saw the two sheets of paper lying one on top of the other. Her hand shook as she picked up the first sheet, and started reading it out loud.
"Dear Jeffy and Leet,
You reading this means I've been seriously injured in a match, or that I'm just too cowardly to do this face-to-face. I'm sitting right now at home, in that old treehouse I built when I was about twelve, and you Jeffy were probably about nine. I remember you were always trying to leap off it onto the ring, and usually onto me.
Anyway, I have three words to say to both of you.
I love you.
I know I haven't said that much lately, and I know my attitude sucked. The reason why…I was trying to push you both away, make it easier later to get away without any hassle. Why, you might ask? Remember in that match against the APA, where Bradshaw gave me a normal clothesline, but I acted like it was the one from hell? That's because it felt like it. Straight on the throat, mighty painful.
I have throat cancer.
Maybe it should be, I had throat cancer. See, during the whole Hardy split thing, I was going in for regular checkups, and that day I got really pissed at you, Leet? After Jeff won? That's because the doctors screwed up. They thought the cancer was spreading…straight to the brain.
But then, only days afterwards, the doc called me in and said I was in remission.
Imagine the happiness.
Now divide by sixty-three.
Take away the first three-digit number that came into your head.
Take one of those pieces, and smash it into a hundred little bits.
That's how much joy I felt.
Because I had pushed you away.
Now I'm sitting here. Dad doesn't even know I'm here, and that's because I'm leaving as soon as I finish this note. Now, I hope you can forgive me for what I'm about to do.
I'm going to stand back, and watch.
Jeff, you have the makings of an intercontinental champion, if not a hardcore champ. I'm counting on you to achieve what we only dreamed of.
Lita…take over Chyna's path, and make your way to the top. I would love to see you win an 'abnormal' belt, not just the women's championship.
I love you both.
Matthew Moore Hardy."
Lita sniffed.
"What does the other one say?" Jeff asked, wiping the water from his own eyes.
"Jeff, Lita.
I'll be quick. Watching you go down was the hardest thing I've had to do in my life.
Challenging the Undertaker was easy. Getting beat up by him was easy. Finding out I've just got my voice ripped away for up to two months was easy.
Losing you two wasn't.
Full remission, the doctors say. There's something like a point zero zero zero zero seven chance of the cancer coming back. Actually, probably less, I'm so spaced I feel asleep listening to all the zeros.
When you go back to the WWF, use the tape and a voiceover, and get Vince to put it up when and if 'Taker comes on. Both of you can read it, I don't care. It's on the back of this sheet, and I would appreciate it if you could do it on the date below.
I love you both."
Lita looked into the box, and at the bottom was a plain black videotape.
"When's the date?" Jeff questioned.
"Twenty-first of January, two-thousand and two."
"A RAW recording."
Lita wiped away a tear. Her Matt had gone through all that alone, and hadn't stayed out of the ring. God she loved him.
"What better way?"
Undertaker was geared up. Mike in hand, preparing to give that little stuck-up rookie a lesson he would never forget.
"Now, in the Royal Rumble, there was a little…mistake that one of the wrestlers made. Kicking the Undertaker over the ropes is not a good way to make friends."
Maven's music came on. "I suppose you're an expert in making friends, Undertaker?" Maven asked. "That's a surprise, you have a friend?"
"I don't need friends, little boy," Undertaker answered. "See, respect is all I care about. And see, you showed no respect…"
A noise cut the seven-foot man off. The screen changed from a close-up of Maven to plain black, as every single light went off except for a spotlight on the ring, and the Undertaker. The sounds switched from Undertaker's voice to the slightly edited lyrics of a song most heavy metal fans recognized.
New blood
joins this earth
And quickly he's subdued
Through constant pain disgrace
The young boy learns their rules…
What I've
felt
What I've known
Never shined through in what I've shown
Never free
Never me
So I dub thee unforgiven
The song faded, and an unearthly voice replaced it.
"Unforgiven…the injuries you have caused…unforgiven…without remorse, or pain…unforgiven…unforced, willing… you're unforgiven…"
The voice changed, to a female, and the screen changed to a picture of three children, two boys and one girl, all staring at the audience, as if they could really see them.
"This is me…and those two are them…you're unforgiven…"
"Come out here!" Undertaker called, a tad annoyed. "Get out here, you *beep*s." The lights slowly came on, dimly.
"No need to swear, Undertaker," an amused female voice said. Maven looked to the side, a bit surprised, as two figures emerged from the side. Briefly he looked at them, then as one offered a hand, he pushed it away.
Surprised, the figure looked towards the other. Maven answered the unspoken question, as he bent down and encompassed the figure in a hug. He nodded briefly to the second, and then all three made their way to the ring. The male figure raised his microphone, the lights still too dim to see who it was. "You destroyed me…you destroyed my sister…you destroyed my brother…and you've destroyed a young friend of mine…" The lights went up.
Jeff grinned at Undertaker. "How does it feel to be outnumbered?"
The first time Undertaker was ever embarrassed. The three had taken turns, making sure that two people never touched him at the same time. The only punishment Undertaker had doled out was a punch to the head of Jeff Hardy, a kick to Lita, and a shoulder block to Maven.
"Little revenge," Maven quoted.
"Quoth the Maven, evermore," Jeff joked.
Lita looked up, her attention simply drawn to looking at the front row, close to the announce table. Her eyes fell on a pair of brown ones, which shone with understanding and happiness. Lita walked towards them, as if in a trance.
Maven nudged Jeff. "Where's she going?"
Jeff followed her stare, and green eyes fell on familiar features. "Ho. Ly. Crap." He dropped the mike, which he had picked up after Undertaker fell to the mat, and it made a dull thud.
Lita moved as if possessed. She climbed quickly through the ropes, landing on her feet like a cat. Those brown eyes…drawing her closer…she climbed over the barrier and landed in a pair of warm arms, which felt like home.
Matt smiled through his tears, which ran slowly down his face and onto the neck brace he wore. "I love you Lita," he whispered huskily. "Forever."
"I love you, Hardy."
Jeff jumped over and enfolded them in a huge group hug, mindless of the screaming crowd. "I love you both."