Two Years and One Night

by Generic Chimera

Matt Hardy has flashbacks of his career, most particularly with Jeff and Lita. At the end he wonders about someone...the ending was rushed, so it kinda stuffed it up

Disclaimer: I no own Matt Hardy and company. I own a diary with 'welcome to the doghouse…just when you thought it was safe…where we all bleed neon green…' on it, I own three posters of various wrestlers, and I own a T-shirt with a glow-in-the-dark now logo on it, but I don't own the wrestlers…now can we move on?

Author: Chimera

Well…this is an extremely freaky story…

Note: I have no idea on Lita/Amy Dumas's past; the only thing I know is that Amy met the Hardyz at an Indies comp., or something. In everything, I'll name her by Lita, so it doesn't get confusing. Also I've never actually found out what happened with Essa Rios and Lita, so I'll just do something I've read in other fics. I have no idea what smaller wrestling business shows have or look like, so I've just shoved down small descriptions, and you can imagine it yourself. Uh. Undertaker matches. As I've said numerous times in other fics, I HAVE NOT SEEN THEM. Guesses, I think Jeff got a Last Ride off a ramp onto a table + concrete and then Lita was thrown on top of him.

Note Number Two: As far as I've heard, Matt has a stronger accent than Jeff, so in Lita's points of view I'll sometimes write Matt's speaking like 'Ah'm Matt Hardy'. Capiche?

Note Number Three: Undertaker matches/hospital flashback is longer 'cause I got carried away. Lots.

Note Number Four: I know November 13 2001 fell on a Tuesday, but for a little thing called author's license I changed it.

Note Number Five: Royal Rumble is one subject I haven't seen in fics as a point in vital Hardy history. Well, it is here.

   He smiled drowsily, watching the mass of bright coloured hair move up and down in front of him. He couldn't resist curling a hand in it, lightly pulling and caressing it. A soft sigh was heard from the woman in front of him, as she turned her head in her sleep. The man ducked his head slightly and breathed in her scent, the intense yet faint scent of her perfume and a smell which was one thousand percent her. He ran one finger down her angelic face, peaceful in sleep. He lightly touched her eyelashes, admiring the make-up-less face. The man laid his head on the pillow, watching her face as he remembered the crucial days in their past. Brown eyes slipped closed as Matt Hardy's mind filled with memories.

_FLASHBACK_

   "Whoa," Jeff remarked offhandedly as they watched in the back. They were at a Mid-Atlantic NWA {National Wrestling Alliance} show, and were watching the newest girl strut her stuff.

   "Whoa is right," Matt established as he watched the replay of her amazing hurricanrana off a balcony five feet above her opponents' head on the big screen. "Wouldn't she be extreme teaming up with the Boyz?" (A.N. Bad pun, I know.)

   "Heck yes," the younger brother agreed. "Not bad lookin' either." Still watching the monitor, he ducked as a flying water bottle threatened to knock his head off. Without looking he threw back the nearest object at hand. What Jeff wasn't expecting was for it to be batted back.

   "Yah!" Matt exclaimed. "I don't need that, thank you very much."

   Jeff pulled the thing off his head, and looked at it. "Eeek!" he squeaked, scampering backwards. "You could have told me what it was!"

   "Why would I take away the pleasure of you screaming like a girl?" Matt retorted.

   "Throwing a five-hundred-pound-man's G-string on my head is not pleasure, thank you very much!" (A.N. Think Rikishi's.)

   Lita sat on the turnbuckle, waiting for her partners. It was her first time she would practice in this association with two males, and hopefully they could respect the role of a woman in the wrestling world today. Her lightly painted lips turned upwards in a smile. Otherwise they'd get the treatment of the other teams she been paired up with: not being able to engage in…activities…with their girlfriends for a week.

   "But Matt!…" she heard a whining voice say as the doors swung open.

   "Bu' Jeff!" a mocking one came back. "You'ure not dying my hair. You do yours, Ah'll do mine." After a brief pause she heard the slightly deeper voice say, "And no dye in the shampoo bottle, or else there'll be worse tha' toads in your bed."

   She looked up and saw the youngest one first. He was good looking in a weird kind of way. He had green and blue hair, but Lita could see blond streaks through it and judged it to be his natural colour. She could see his amazing green eyes from more than halfway across the room, and he had a net choker on. She turned her attention to the man beside him, and sized him up quickly. He had plain black hair, which was in a neat ponytail. His dark eyes were outlined with dark lashes, and from where she was sitting she could see the laughter in his smile.

   "Hiya!" the younger one said with a bright smile. "I'm Jeff!"

   "And he's also doped up on caf'eine," the other one muttered as he climbed through the ropes. He shot her a grin. "Ah'm Matt."

   "I'm Lita," she returned with a smile.

   Jeff's eyes widened. "You were that girl in the competition! The suicide hurricanrana!"

   "That would be me, yeah," she confirmed.

   "High flyin' Hardys with the lovely Lita," Jeff mused. "Has a nice ring to it."

   Lita laughed, at ease with the two. "We ready to get to it?" she questioned.

   "Ah thin' so," Matt said with a smile. "Ah know this ill sound corny, but Ah think thi' is the start of a beau'utiful friendship."

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt smiled, opening his eyes. Their first official meeting. And to think that two hours later Lita was wriggling belly-to-back on top of him as the Hardys started one of their famous tickle fights. Lita's eyes opened, and she smiled at him, snuggling into his chest for warmth.

   The first meeting, then in the WWF 'reunion'…

_FLASHBACK_

   Essa Rios was in the ring. Unfortunately for him, he was the recipient of a victory roll-up, courtesy of the youngest Hardy. Matt was half-watching his brother, while half his attention was on the newbie wrestler unconscious at his feet. He barely paid attention to his opponent, the one so new that he couldn't even remember his name.

   1.

   2.

   3.

   Hardy music played, as Matt jumped onto the apron and watched as Essa got up, an angry look on his face. He followed the Mexican's look, and recognized Lita at the other end of the ring, one hand on her head and the other clutching her ribs.

   The newbie had gone for a punch to Matt, but he had ducked and the punch hit Rios square in the head, sending him reeling back into Lita, who tried to stop herself falling off the apron but had accidentally grabbed Essa which half hung him up on the ropes. Jeff had capitalized as Matt rolled out of the ring, pulling Essa to the canvas.

   Now it seemed that the Mexican high-flyer was a little ticked off at his girlfriend/valet. Matt clapped his hand on Jeff's shoulder, and the brothers climbed out of the ring, heading back to the changing rooms. Essa could handle his own problemos.

   Lita was wincing as she held her ribs. The fall off the apron had knocked her straight onto the announcement table, and her midsection was paying for it. Her eyes widened as she saw Essa's expression change…a change she usually only saw after he had been out drinking…and she had done something wrong…

   Matt hesitated as the Hardyz were about to disappear backstage. Jeff did the same beside him, and they exchanged glances. Something big and bad was going to happen if they left the space near the ring. And their feelings came true as they heard angry shouts and boos coming from the audience. Instinctively they turned and ran to the ring, even before their minds computed what was happening.

   Lita screamed, but no one heard. She cried tears, but no one saw. Essa was punching her, kicking her, something she should be used to but wasn't, especially not in front of a good fifteen thousand people as well as millions watching on television. The loss was scripted, she wanted to scream. It was supposed to be Essa's mistake that lost them the match. But Essa's didn't cost them the match. Hers did.

   Suddenly the pain stopped coming, and her injuries started aching so she could truly appreciate it. She wearily opened her eyes and saw a dark blue head run past where she was weakly leaning against a turnbuckle. Unconsciously she realized that was Jeff Hardy, and he was most probably doing a Poetry in Motion on someone. Slowly her eyes slipped closed, but not before she was aware of someone scooping her up before she hit the ground.

   Jeff scratched his head. "Okay, there's a pretty girl unconscious in our changing room, Essa Rios has gone loco, Vince just fired a non-English-speaker…why do I feel this is a perfectly normal day?"

   "Maybe McMahon will do us all a favor and fire you," Matt muttered at his position next to Lita. He dabbed her head with a washcloth.

   Jeff looked curiously at Matt. "What does that actually do?" he questioned.

   Matt looked at the washcloth, and shrugged. "Gets the blood flowing, or somethin'."

   "Don't think she needs that, to be honest with ya," Jeff pointed out, indicating the rather deep cut on her temple. Matt shrugged again, idly tracing the lines of her tattoo. "I mean, what was up with Essa? He was supposed to lose, or didn't I read the match sheet correctly?…" he blabbered on.

   Matt tuned out, as most people did when listening to Jeff on a rant spree. The young Hardy was used to it, and mostly talked to himself.

   "…and why didn't he go loco on the kid?…"

   Matt gently touched Lita's forehead, and her skin wrinkled the slightest bit. Jeff disappeared into the showers, his voice still quietly heard. "He majorly needs to get the bug outta his butt…"

   "Lita," Matt said softly. "Come on, Lady Lita, wake up."

   Lita's lashes fluttered, and she finally opened her eyes, looking straight at the ceiling. "Where am I?" she questioned Matt, light brown eyes flicking in his direction.

   "You're in our changing room," Matt said quietly. "Rios attacked you in the ring, do you remember?"

   "Yeah, I made a mistake. I need to get back to him now…" Lita tried to get up, but barely made it to sitting before she grimaced and put a hand to her head.

   "He's been fired," Matt told her bluntly. "Vince went nuts once someone translated that he was saying he had done it more than once."

   "What? But…he just gets mad. He doesn't mean to…" Lita trailed off, realizing how cliché that sounded. The beaten girlfriend saying 'he didn't mean it, honest'.

   "Listen, Lita, you're one of the best women…hell, one of the best wrestlers in this federation. Believe me, if Essa wasn't fired, and for some absurd reason you went back to him, no, I let you go back to him, you'd be nursing him twenty-four-seven. Between me, Jeff, Chris Jericho, Edge, Christian, and all the other half-decent wrestlers in this company he'd almost be wishing he never met you."

   Lita felt tears come to her eyes. "They'd all do that?" her voice tried.

   "No, but me and Jeff and Christmas Jericho'd make 'em," Matt joked, getting a half-smile from Lita. He punched her lightly in her shoulder. "What do ye' say?"

   "About what?" Lita asked, confused.

   Matt smiled kindly, gently wiping her still misty eyes. "About joining the Hardy Boyz. Making the most extreme team in WWF history."

   Lita shook her head. "I can't," she choked.

   Jeff chose that moment to walk in with a towel around his waist. "So the guest is up," he narrated. "How're ye' feeling?"

   The female flyer blushed lightly. "Fine." Jeff nodded and turned, and her blush grew.

   Matt noticed. "Heyo, Jeffro," he called. "Pull up the loincloth."

   Jeff did so, flipping off his brother in the same motion.

   Matt turned his heart-warming smile on Lita. "Come on, you've seen my brother's fat ass. Why not?"

   The smile was what did it. "Fine," Lita gave up with a replying smile. "Team Xtreme has just been born."

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt listened to the sounds of Lita in the bathroom, picking out one of the many thin dark red streaks gained after a bet with Lita went wrong. His smile widened. And of course, there was the numerous fights…like championship runs…

_FLASHBACK_

   Lita pinned Stephanie, her heart inwardly rejoicing. Taking the title away from the 'People's Bitch', as she had been nicknamed backstage, was going to help get her over as a face. Being with Essa…she shuddered inwardly at his name…made her a small-carder, and only moderate cheers came her way. She was the type of girl, Vince had told her, that was always going to be a face not matter what she did. And pinning the bitchy Stephanie was the way that he and even Steph, had agreed would help her on her way.

   3.

   "The winner and the new Women's Champion…Lita!" Lillian Garcia announced. Lita got up weakly, and Matt helped her up. She had been barely aware of him outside the ring, 'watching' for any of Stephanie's 'friends'. She looked at the belt in disbelief. Women's Champion…a long and illustrious run, she hoped.

   "That was great!" Steph exclaimed as she got backstage. She hugged her boyfriend the Rock as she spoke. "I really thought you were going to seriously hurt me," she chuckled.

   "Hurt the People's Bitch? Never!" Lita laughed. "I thought you were going to beat me for a second there! And you didn't do your girl any favors!" she reproached the Rock. He slunk behind Steph as the two women laughed.

   "Hey, being a referee in a match between two hot women is no easy task!" he defended himself.

   "Wish Ah was in ya' place," Matt sighed. Jokingly, Lita thought.

   "Hey! Cheer up, all you've got to do now is win the Tag-Team Titles!" Lita told him.

   Matt was weak with blood loss and pain, but he managed to get up. He saw Jeff standing, and caught his eye. They immediately started going up the cage, steel chairs in hand, racing against Edge. Top of the cage and all he could do was swing right hands at half of the Tag-Team Champions. He caught Jeff's eye again, and they raised the chairs. Edge winced, knowing what was coming.

   The con-chair-to couldn't have been more perfect. Not fully catching Edge, but still enough to make it real, Edge fell back into the cage. Almost deafened by the screams of the crowd, Matt and Jeff climbed down the cage. Matt's feet touched the floor, and the Hardyz collapsed onto the knees on the floor. Matt grabbed the belt, and caught sight of Lita, holding her…wrist?…in pain. He watched as Jeff stumbled over and grabbed her in a hug, and felt a momentary pang of…wistfulness, jealousy, sadness…before he joined them in a group hug. He hugged her as hard as he could, mindless of the ribs he had bruised. They made their way to the back, and immediately they were surrounded in congratulations.

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt delicately picked out a lock of hair, dividing it into thirds as Lita sat on the bed between his legs. He loved brushing her hair; it reminded him of a sheet of silky fire, he had once told her. Then of course was the 'romance angle' with her and Malenko…

_FLASHBACK_

   Dean went quickly for a chair, and hit it against the ground a few times. He turned towards Lita, but something told him to look again. Matt grinned at him sadistically as he ducked the wide swing, and kicked him in the midsection. Malenko dropped the chair, and Matt picked it up. The Radical looked up, and was met with a hard chair shot to the face. "That's for messing with my girl," he hissed as the man went down. He flung the chair out of the ring, and inwardly wondered at the stupidity of the referees as he slid out. Lita weakly crawled over to Malenko and covered him with one arm. The ref clambered into the ring and counted the three. Matt whooped outside the ring, and slid in to help up Lita. She was still a little out of it, but was regaining her senses with every second. As she smiled, Matt felt the feeling he had been fighting forever bubble up inside him, and he inwardly screamed in anger, knowing that what he was going to do now was going to break their friendship.

   He touched her face softly and she looked at him questioningly. Her lips turned up quizzically, and he kissed her.

   All that happened in just a second, but it felt like an eternity. The kiss felt like an eternity as well, but this felt worse. It had to end sometime, so it was bittersweet. Matt poured every emotion into those two seconds…or was it five? Was it a minute? Matt didn't know, and frankly didn't care. The point was that he was in the kiss he had been waiting for since he had rescued her…no, way before that. Ever since he met her.

   In what seemed like an age, he broke the kiss and stepped back. As soon as he did, he saw the look on her face and the full repercussions swept over him in a wave.

   _Holy crapola. I have just kissed my best friend._ Matt started stammering. "God Lita, I'm so sorry…soooooo sorry. Look, I know you don't feel the same way…" As Lita's expression didn't change, that horribly betrayed and confused look still on her face, he inwardly broke, and stepped back, going through the ropes. He jumped down, bringing his hands down angrily.

   _Why the hell did you do it there?_ he yelled at himself. _You are a mother-fuckin'-sonuva-bitch-bastard-asswipe-dropkick-dickhead!_ He kept cursing, repeating all the swearwords he could. _Shit, fuck, crap, damn…schiess…now, more swearwords in other languages…_

   He kept walking up the ramp, mentally trying to prepare himself for the lashing he'd get from his brother. He could already imagine it…_Geez, Matt, nice timing. Confuse the girl when she has an admirer she hates, plus it was freaking Valentine's day a couple of days ago. Give the girl a break._

   Matt felt a hand on his shirt, and turned, already saying, "Look Lita, I am really-"

   He was cut off by a finger on his lips. Dark chocolate brown eyes looked down as much as possible to the finger, then into another pair of brown eyes. "Shut up, Matt," Lita whispered before she leaned in for an explosive kiss.

   "Hey Jeff, maybe you could take some kissing lessons from your brother," Test called out from the front of the room, where a couple of the guys were watching the monitor. Emerald green eyes looked up from the WWF magazine article on Chris Jericho and glanced at the monitor.

   He closed the magazine absently, eyes transfixed. "Holy shit," was all he could say. That drew the attention of the other guys in the room that wasn't already watching. Matt was walking up the aisle in a split screen, the second saying 'moments ago' and showing the kiss between Lita and Matt.

   "Someone could be getting their groove on," Faarooq winked.

   "Lita's gonna whip his ass," Bradshaw commented as Lita ran up the ramp after him. He shot a look at Jeff, who was still absolutely shocked silent. Bradshaw frowned. "That…was not scripted, was it?" he asked.

   Jeff shook his head in incredulity. "No scripting. Interference, yes, kiss, n-" Jeff was cut off by various 'Go Lita!' chants as she swung Matt around.

   The locker room went absolutely…well, silently nuts was the way anyone watching would describe it…as Lita kissed Matt for the single most explosive gesture in short-term WWF history.

   Bradshaw dropped his beer and cards. Faarooq managed to keep a hold on both alcohol and gambling utensils but lost the cigar out of his mouth. Test's jaw dropped. Edge raised his eyebrows in disbelief as he dropped his shoes. Christian's mouth revealed a piece of half-chewed food. Even Tajiri and Funaki in the corner of the room went quiet.

   "Eeek," Jeff managed.

_END FLASHBACK_

   They shared a room for a while, but despite the hot and heavy romance, they had never gone further than cuddling and kissing in bed. No major groping, or wandering hands. Matt slowly braided the strands, recalling all the emotions that Jeff had told him about in the locker room. He had known that Test thought Lita was cute, and Edge and Christian were convinced that she really hated the Hardyz but had a crush on one of the blond-haired idiots, but the reactions for a simple one minute scene was incredible. As Jeff said later, 'Might not have been scripted, but hey, you fool the wrestlers backstage, you fool America and the rest of the world.'

   Afterwards, of course, the bad times…but he skipped most of those since they were way too painful to think about on a good mood. But nothing could stop his mind from drifting to the first Undertaker match…the match that set up at least three months of hatred, but that eventually brought two brothers back together.

_FLASHBACK_

   Jeff Hardy had one thought in his mind. _I'm going to die._

   The match was supposed to be rough; it was a Hardcore Championship match after all. But Mark Calloway hated the Hardyz, ever since that one thing ages and ages ago with the Big Show; the fight so far back Jeff couldn't remember it properly.

   Undertaker, as the rest of the world knew Calloway, was supposed to be mean. Supposed to be a bad ass. Supposed to be sadistic. Supposed to be uncaring. Supposed to be kicking his ass. But not this much.

   The extremist Jeff Hardy was almost unconscious, dazed, but was conscious enough to realize that 'Taker was taking, no pun intended, him to his grave.

   Jeff was silent as he was 'Last Ride'd off the ramp onto a table. Lita wasn't.

   "What the hell are you doing 'Taker?" she screamed.

   Matt was as silent as his brother outside. Inside he was screaming in pain, both mental and by the sibling connection, physical. The oldest had never enjoyed watching his brother fight one-on-one on a TV screen; if he wasn't accompanying him to the ring the monitor was switched off. At least if he was out there he could help, cheering, encouraging, in extreme fights with cheap shots. If he was watching unable to do anything, the visions on-screen made him feel the pain in his own body.

   His blood went cold as he watched Calloway grab Lita. He watched powerless as she was thrown unceremoniously on top of Jeff. They lay there motionless, the blue and red hair mixing together to form a blur as he fought back tears of anguish. _This can't be happening,_ he screamed as he dug out his cell phone with shaking hands.

   The EMT who answered the private wrestlers' line seemed to not understand English. "Is Lita all right?" he demanded. "How is my brother?"

   All he got was mumblings and shouts. Obviously this guy barely knew how to tie his own shoelaces, let alone find out what injuries someone had. Matt clicked it off in disgust, fretfully running his hands over his face and through his hair again and again as of to take away the latest memory of his baby brother diving through a table.

   Jeff plus ladders mixed. Jeff plus extreme mixed. Jeff plus hair dye mixed so well you couldn't have Jeff without it. Even Jeff plus tables occasionally mixed; look at the Tables Ladders and Chairs matches, look at the various Hardy/Dudley Boyz matches with ladders and tables. But that was his decision to go through them, most of the time.

   Any human body plus fifteen feet, plus table, plus concrete, plus probably around one hundred and forty pounds landing on the body did not mix.

   Matt felt a surge of fury. Undertaker was going to pay, even if it cost his own career.

   Jeff watched with hatred as Undertaker's music played. "Poor SOB," he murmured. Only just tuning in on WWF Smackdown!, he had missed whatever conversation the commentators might have had on the upcoming match.

   His thoughts stopped. Kendo stick, he thought dimly. To the head. Kendo stick. Figures. Matt always practiced with sticks while Jeff practiced his chair shots. The TV picture seemed to slow down, yet Jeff, wrapped in long clothes to hide the various muscle bandages on his body, seemed to miss no single second of the fight but forgot everything a moment afterwards. He shivered, watching, as his brother lay beaten in the middle of the ring while the Undertaker walked up the ramp.

   Air stopped going in and out of his lungs. Blood stopped, his heart no longer beating. Matt lay senseless in the middle of the ring. Undertaker walked back.

   Matt was silent in the ambulance, the attendings were almost worried about his brain. 'Was the bitch worth it?' Mark had asked. Immediate thought? _Nothing is worth this._ Second thought. _God, I hope he hasn't ended my career._

   Third and final thought. _Of course Lita's worth it, you bastard. Lita alone is worth this, let alone Lita and Jeff._

   "Matt, stay with us man," Dayna, one of the EMTs said quickly. Dayna was all right, most of the guys thought. The beautiful American Indian woman occasionally hung around the locker rooms and sometimes even went out to drink with the boys in back. She was employed as a medical worker, but also was loosely used by the wrestlers as a counselor since she had two years of psychology under her belt.

   Matt nodded slightly, and kept her in eye contact. She smiled reassuringly. "There's been some major damage done to your larynx and windpipe, so when we get to the medical center they're gonna check that out, alright?"

   He nodded again. She continued. "There was also quite a bit of damage done to your right shoulder, it aggravated the old injury, so they'll probably check that out later." Matt slowly nodded, and she grabbed his hand. He gave her a smile, and his eyes slid shut. His hand squeezed hers reassuringly, and she relaxed. _Note: give Calloway a big tongue-lashing,_ she thought to herself. _Matt and Jeff are such sweethearts._

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt shuddered inwardly. The physical pain disappeared into nothing when he thought of the mental anguish at the mention of losing Lita. _Nothing…nothing is worth losing Lita._ Jeff was one of the first people aside from doctors and EMTs he saw, although not in person, after the bashing, and to be honest, he had been more scared of his baby brother's reaction than he was of the Undertaker.

   Lita moaned softly. He had moved on from braiding to massaging her shoulders, and he paid special attention to the bottom of her neck, the most ticklish place he could reach. Her head fell forward gradually, and he smiled. _In the hospital though, I wasn't this close to the people I loved._

_FLASHBACK_

   "Jeff!" he heard Lita call. "It's for you…it's Dayna!"

   He accepted the phone from Lita, who had probably the same amount of confusion on her face as he felt. Dayna was one of the girls backstage, one of the few people who would do almost anything asked of them. "Hello?" he said softly, his mind not totally on the conversation due to the match he had just seen on TV. His eyes kept flickering to the muted TV, which now showed a bikini-clad woman on an advertisement for motor oil.

   "Skittles," he heard immediately. "You been watching Smackdown!?"

   "Yeah, is he okay?" Jeff questioned straight away. "How bad is he hurt?"

   Lita listened quietly. 'How bad is he hurt?' _How bad is who hurt?_

   She crept over to the TV, which had the sound muted. "And next we have a European Championship match, William Regal versus Booker T," she could hear JR say. "And haven't we had a slobber knocker of a show tonight, King?"

   "It has been a fantastic show, JR, with everything that happened, and we still have the main event!" King crowed. "Chris Jericho in a rematch against Stone Cold Steve Austin! Let's take a look back…"

   Lita lost interest as it showed the last deciding match at Vengeance, with Jericho winning the title. She started worrying, biting her nails. _Was it Rob? Was it Spike? Was it Trish?_

   The clip ended, leaving the camera on the announce table. JR looked worried, which was not a good thing.

   "Well folks, we have an update of one of the Superstar's condition," he started. Lita's heart leapt into her throat. "The Undertaker was in a Hardcore Championship match earlier tonight-" Lita was confused; why would Jeff be worried about the Undertaker?

   "-and let's just go back and show you this clip, it is absolutely…indescribable."

   She caught her breath as Undertaker walked down the ramp. "Oh my God," she breathed as she saw a dark figure assault 'Taker from behind with a kendo stick. The picture changed to the man hitting Undertaker over the head a few more times, then Undertaker getting up and powerbombing the man. Another scene showed the man being dragged to the outside, and Undertaker snapping a chair shut. She glanced away as the crowd alternately cheered and booed, the sick _thud_ _splat_ was enough. She clamped her hand to her mouth, in an attempt to keep the bile from her throat.

   "Matt Hardy was just totally demolished by the Undertaker, in this match for the Hardcore title," JR started. "But King, this match was not only for the Hardcore title."

   "No way, it was a chance for Matt Hardy to avenge Lita and Jeff Hardy, who were both also injured at the hands of the Undertaker. We have no real update on their condition, but it is said that they are both resting at home," King said, being serious for once.

   "Well I'll tell you what we do have an update on, and that's Matt Hardy's condition. He has a bruised larynx…that's voicebox, King…and he has a chipped shoulder blade. We send best wishes to Matt Hardy, as well as Jeff and Lita, for a speedy recovery," JR ended.

   Lita turned the television off. She felt like she was going to be violently sick. Jeff entered and saw her face.

   "You saw, didn't you?" he questioned, making it sound like a statement. She nodded, unable to speak.

   "Come on, Dayna's at the hospital. We've got to get over there."

   Lita was suddenly very glad she had grabbed a jacket on the way out. All the people in the emergency room were normal blue-collar citizens, with normal injuries like glass cuts, broken arms and burns. What was she here for? _A chair to the freaking throat as well as a shoulder injury._

   "I'll go and check on Matt, okay?" Jeff asked, steering her towards a chair. He sat her down, and softly brushed a lock of fiery hair out of her eyes. She avoided looking at him, and was conscious of all the other people staring at them.

   "Hey, mah girl, what's the matter?" Jeff whispered, laying on the 'southern accent' she never could say no to.

   That did it. The voice, so like Matt's, was enough to make her burst into tears, the first cry she had had since Matt broke up Team Xtreme. He bent down on one knee and caught her as she sobbed violently, mindless of his muscles yelling at him for his carelessness. "Come on," he soothed. "Matt's going to be fine," he repeated, trying to convince himself as well as his 'little sister'.

   "Why did he do it?" she whispered hoarsely. "Why go through that?"

   Jeff shrugged hopelessly. "He's my big brother. He'd do anything. Remember in the steel cage match he insisted that he was the one to be split open?"

   Lita gulped, quietening down but still hiccupping softly. "He would do anything," she said softly. "Go, go check in with Dayna, I'll wait here."

   Jeff sized up her face, and she gave him a weak smile. "Okay, wait here," he told her, seemingly unaware of every person in the room staring at his bright blue hair. He walked over to the desk, the receptionist staring at him slightly as he leaned on the counter. Lita sniffed again, putting her head in her hands. She winced. _Not a good move,_ she decided, feeling carefully around the long bruise on her cheek. Lita lifted her shirt slightly, massaging her tight stomach muscles as they tensed, sending bolts of pain through her nervous system. Delicately she took off her jacket, conscious of her tattoo, and wrapped it around her middle.

   Jeff looked back at Lita, who was wincing in pain as she rediscovered her injuries. He looked back at the receptionist, who was still trying to find Matt's admittance file, let alone what was wrong with him. _Too many ER waiting rooms to count, and still receptionists have no clue what they're doing,_ he thought, raising an eyebrow as the woman popped a bubble from her mouth. "Um, yeah. I'll call when you can see him," the receptionist said with a bored tone.

   "Gee, thanks," Jeff said quietly.

   He felt a tug on his pants, and leant down to see a young kid, probably five or so, looking up at him. His heart melted; he had always had a soft spot for kids. The six foot two inches man folded his body to crouch on the ground, eye level with the child. The blond little girl gave a gap toothed smile, and he smiled back.

   "I'm Jeff," he introduced himself. "What's your name?"

   "Marie," she said shyly. "I'm five."

   "Really?" he asked, acting surprised. "So I guess that means you're a big girl, doesn't it?"

   "Yep," she said proudly. "Why is your hair blue?" she asked, with all the tactfulness of a child.

   Jeff smiled; he had never gotten that question so directly before. "I like it blue," he told her, pulling a bit of it out of his loose ponytail. "I think it's better than having no hair," he told her in a confidential tone.

   "Yeah, you'd look silly with no hair," she giggled.

   "Why are you here?" he asked her with a half-smile, not totally able to mask the pain when he remembered his brother.

   "My mummy brought me here," she said with an important air. "My sister's sick, and she needs me to help her."

   "Really?" Jeff questioned. "That's bad. How are you going to help her?"

   Marie shrugged. "I come to the doctors and they give me needles, and test me. Mummy explained it to me, but I forgot," she said sheepishly. "Why are you in here?" she asked.

   "My brother's hurt," Jeff said simply. "A very mean person hurt him, and a friend of mine brought him here."

   The little girl looked inquisitive. "Where's he hurt?" she asked.

   Jeff turned her around, and pressed lightly on her shoulder. "He's hurt right there…" He turned her around again, and traced her throat. "…and there," he ended.

   "Marie!" he heard being called.

   He grinned at her. "I think your mummy's looking for you," he whispered conspirator-to-conspirator.

   She looked around. "I can't see her," she said, puzzled.

   Jeff picked her up, and she squealed softly. "There she is!" Marie pointed out a young early-twenties woman, who looked tired and despondent.

   "Off we go," he said playfully, carrying her over to her mother. He bounced her lightly on his hip, pretending to drop her.

   The woman from behind looked haggard and tried, slouched over with one hand pressed to her temple. Jeff tapped her lightly on the shoulder, saying, "I believe this is yours?"

   The woman turned, and her eyes focused on Marie. "Marie!" she scolded. "Don't run away again, okay?"

   "Okay mummy," the girl replied cheerfully, playing with some of Jeff's hair, finding a couple of orange strands.

   The woman did a double take on Jeff. Or more to the point, Jeff's hair. "Um, hi," she said uncertainly.

   "Hi," he said back, inattentively checking her out. She looked tired and tried, as if almost all her energy had been sapped away. Her brown ponytail was half-way on the side of her head, which told Jeff that she had probably been sleeping on a window for a while, resting her head against it. He suddenly remembered his manners, and stuck out his hand. He looked at it, checking out the dirt and sweat level, wiped it on his warm-up pants, winced when he hit a bandage, and offered it again. "I'm Jeff Hardy," he introduced himself.

   "I'm Kelly Daniels," the woman replied, absently smoothing back her hair with her free hand as she shook Jeff's hand. "I hope she hasn't been too much trouble for you," she said, looking meaningfully at Marie, who smiled sleepily from Jeff's shoulder.

   "No, no trouble," he said, looking back at Lita, who was staring into space and rubbing her arm. He nodded slightly to her, and she got up to follow him. "Do you want me to carry her somewhere?" he said softly, seeing as though Marie was drifting off.

   "If she isn't too heavy," Kelly said hesitantly.

   Jeff smiled wanly. "I've picked up heavier loads than this, trust me," he said with a smile.

   Lita walked sedately after Jeff, aware of many people whispering as they walked past. She caught up with him, and smiled at the woman with him. Jeff smiled at her, and introduced the two. "Lita, this is Kelly. Kelly, this is my friend Lita."

   "Nice to meet you," Lita said softly, glancing at the girl cradled against Jeff's shoulder.

   Kelly gave her a tired almost-grimace. "Hi."

   "Where's Dayna?" Lita asked softly.

   Jeff shrugged imperceptively. "No idea."

   Kelly opened a door, and a girl in a hospital bed perked up slightly. "Mumma?" a weary voice asked.

   "Hush, baby, just me," Kelly said, smoothing back the child's blond hair.

   Lita glanced at the two children, and back at the mother. Kelly had a deep shade of golden blond hair, a little unkempt but still pretty. Both girls had thin-looking ash blond hair, reaching to one's chin in the youngest and the other having longer hair disappearing into the bed. All three had brown eyes, but the oldest girl had faint sparks of green, while both mother and youngest were a deeper shade of chocolate. All three were tired, Kelly's face lined with weariness, the elder's eyes exhausted and the youngest just plain asleep. Kelly, Lita judged to be around twenty-eight, if not a few years younger, and the girls five and eight respectively.

   "Baby, this is Jeff and Lita, alright? Jeff and Lita, this is my oldest daughter Stephanie."

   Stephanie and Lita both waved hi, as Jeff lay Marie down on the foot of the bed. Stephanie frowned, as if she was trying to remember something.

   "Jeff and Lita…" she repeated slowly. Her face brightened. "You're Jeff Hardy and Lita, aren't you?" she exclaimed.

   Two members of the former Team Xtreme looked at each other and smiled. "Yeah, we're Jeff and Lita," the former Women's Champion told her.

   "Cool! Can I have your autographs?" Stephanie asked, hugely excited.

   "Sure," the youngest Hardy said, pulling a pen out of his pocket. Kelly gave him a piece of paper, still a little confused on her daughter apparently knowing two complete strangers, and Jeff wrote down his message. 'Hope you get better real soon, so you can watch us! Jeff Hardy.'

   He passed it onto Lita, who wrote: 'To Stephanie, Hope you aren't _too_ bored cooped up in hospital. It drove me nuts! Love you always! Lita.'

   She in turn passed it to Stephanie, who glowed as she read the messages. "Thanks!" she exclaimed, eyes shining. Again she looked up, and frowned. "But why are you in the hospital?" she asked.

   _All the directness of her sister,_ Jeff thought. He bent down to the bed, so he had to look up to Stephanie. "You didn't watch the last show, did you?" he asked softly.

   "No," she said slowly. "I watched RAW when you were against the Undertaker, and I booed heaps. What happened?" she questioned.

   Lita took over the elucidation. "Well, you know how Matt was in New York?" she said. "He got a match with the Undertaker, and he got hurt. Badly. So now we're here to visit him," she explained.

   "But don't you not like Matt anymore?" she inquired curiously.

   Jeff took a deep breath. "I don't like what he did," he said carefully. "But he's still my brother, and I love him very much."

   Stephanie smiled sleepily, seeming to drift off as they talked. "Is Team Xtreme going to get together again?" she questioned.

   Lita smiled, patting her hand. "I hope so," she said softly. She then exchanged a look with Jeff. "I sure hope so."

_END FLASHBACK_

   _And then Jeff's half visit,_ Matt thought, kneading the knots out of Lita's back. She was breathing deeply, and they had moved positions so he was straddling the small of her back, moving his hands through her long, too-big sweatshirt. _And the little interview…_

_FLASHBACK_

   Matt watched the TV as the WWF symbol 'burned' it's way across the screen for the start of the rerun of Smackdown! _Why am I torturing myself with this?_ he silently questioned himself. He watched, slightly doped up, as an opening match of Rob Van Dam against Tajiri started. Matt stared into space as Tajiri got the Tarantula, but only seconds later Rob hit the Five-Star Frog Splash for the cover and win.

   The 'dark Hardy' was almost unaware of a footfall in the doorway, and someone entering. He assumed it was a nurse, so paid no attention to the door. Instead, as he heard Michael Cole's voice, he glanced at the TV set and froze. _That was not supposed to be on now!_ he screamed. _That was not supposed to be on Smackdown! That was a character thing! It wasn't supposed to be on TV!_

   He saw himself, looking slightly…sad and angry…his arms crossed on his chest _Note to self: Change standing style. You can't always be defensive._ Answering Michael's questions in pretty much a depressed monotone.

Cole: Matt Hardy. As we all know, Team Xtreme broke up almost three weeks ago. What are your thoughts now you've had a chance to review the situation?

Matt (frowning, as if disgusted with himself): I think it was the wrong choice. At Vengeance, that match should not have ended when it did, and I think if it went on longer and ended differently, even if Jeff had still pinned me, I don't think I would have gone totally off like I did. It was pretty much just the way I lost.

Cole: Well, last Monday night your brother had a Hardcore Title match against the Undertaker. Tonight, you've challenged the Undertaker for his Hardcore Title.

Matt: Yes sirrie. Undertaker messed with my family. I respected the Undertaker. Lita respected Undertaker. I know for a fact Jeff respected Undertaker. And with all due respect, I'll show Undertaker exactly what I think of him tonight. And Taker? When you took on my brother…eight inches shorter, one hundred pounds lighter…you obviously didn't know that whether Team Xtreme is together or not, you have to deal with both Hardy Boyz.

Cole: Might I ask why? Breaking up Team Xtreme, then challenging Undertaker for a match is in some people's mindset, extremely contradictory.

Matt: No matter what happens, Jeff is my brother, and Lita's my…well, I love…Lita's very special to me. (He quickly rubbed his eyes) This is over. (He stormed past Michael Cole, who looked after him in shock.)

   Matt sank back in the bed and closed his eyes. He reached for his notebook that had once been in his duffel bag that the nurses left on his bedside table. My life is so screwed up he wrote. My brother hates me, the girl I love hates me, I hate me, I'm beaten up so the only way of communication is this little book, and the only friend I have left is Dayna. No offense to the girl, but that just a little depressing.

   His pen stayed above the paper for a few seconds, as he tried to figure out what to write. I don't want to be like Tazz, or Raven, he wrote. I don't want to be alone in the WWF.

   I don't want to care about winning titles. I don't want to care about what I appear like onscreen. I don't want to care about beating everyone into a pulp. The things I want to care about are 1) Jeff. 2) Lita. 3) the Tag-Team Championship. 4) Team Xtreme.

   He stopped writing, and sank even further into his bed. Suddenly he threw the book backwards over his head, and a tear escaped his eye. _I don't want to be perfect. I just want my best friends back. Is that too much to ask?_

   Jeff looked into the room suspiciously. The nurse hadn't yet told him he could see Matt; but as he walked past and saw 'Matt Hardy' on the door, he couldn't resist. The blue-haired man raised an eyebrow in his impression of the Rock as he noted the funky positioning of furniture in the room.

   The head of the bed was closest to the door, and walking in too far would result in hitting a shin on the post. The bedside table was shoved down at the foot, and a chair was placed next to the bed. The television set was straight ahead, about eye level to the bed, and Jeff's emerald green eyes were drawn to it straight away. Standing opposite Michael Cole was his brother.

   He stood like stone, watching emotionlessly as Michael Cole questioned his brother on his feelings. Only near the end of the interview did Jeff show any expression.

   'No matter what happens, Jeff is my brother, and Lita's my…well, I love…Lita's very special to me.'

   How cliché. How true. Jeff sighed, then almost jumped as scratching sounds came from the bed. He frowned, stepping forward, but before he could see the man in the bed, a small blue book flew over the bed head, almost hitting Jeff straight in the forehead. The same shade of blue went towards the floor, as Jeff's hair covered his face as he went to retrieve the book. His brow furrowed as he read the first page, and he backed slowly out of the room, careful not to make a noise.

   Lita was sitting still in the waiting room, hunched over, her head on her knees and in her hands. She stared quietly at a palm-sized photo on her knee. Jeff and Matt were at the back, and were half-hugging each other hard. Lita was in front, smiling, and tugging at both manes of black and colour, and both Matt and Jeff's free hands were resting on her stomach and shoulder respectively.

   She remembered when that photo was taken; two days after the two had won the WCW Tag Team Titles, and both had recovered nicely from the minor hangovers they had suffered. The win was just sinking in, and they all were celebrating.

   Lita touched Matt's face with a finger, tracing the lines of his face. _Were you really happy?_

   Her thoughts were disrupted by a blue-haired bolt sitting beside her. She glanced up at him, and saw him staring at a notepad, his eyes a mystery. "What's the matter?" she questioned. Jeff handed her the book silently. She opened it to the first page.

   "Property of Matt Hardy," she read out loud. She exchanged a glance with Jeff. "Where did you get this?"

   "His room," he said quietly. "Keep reading."

   The second page was mostly scribble, and she flicked through, raising an eyebrow as she flicked through almost half the pad before she got to real writing. It was dated. She risked a glance to Jeff, but apparently he was unaware that Matt had treated this like a journal. 'November 13. Lita and I had another fight. I don't even remember what it was about. Oh yeah, Trish asked me to tape her ankles, and Lita came in and pushed Trish out. I guess something was wrong…God, Matt, you are so _stupid!_ Don't go near any female except Lita from now on, okay? If it makes her mad…Lita's the best girl who will even look at you. You have Lita, don't let her get away. If I sound like a chauvinist, then…God, you're writing to yourself, Matt! Is this like a weird kind of schizophrenia? Ha, Friday the thirteenth. Bad luck. Seems like I've had a lot of this bad luck lately.'

   'November thirtieth. I am taking as much time as possible to write this as I am trying to absorb everything. Lita and I broke up. Screw that, I broke up with Lita. Right now, she is outside the room. I can hear her crying, and I can hear Jeff talking to her. Matt, you are an idiot. Idiot. Idiot.' The next words were smudged, but Lita could make out a few of the letters. 'Y-u -ove L-ta, --ckhe-d, id-ot.' The rest was legible. 'Crap. Now I am crying. Crap. God, Matt, you are so messed up. Yay, now she's gone. I can cry in peace.' The rest of the page was stuck to the one behind it, the pages stuck together by some kind of formerly wet substance, but that had dried and stuck about four pages together.

   'December twentieth. Jeff has just gone against the Undertaker. I challenge the Undertaker for his hardcore title.'

   Lita frowned, an insight to Matt Hardy coming as valuable, and giving her another perspective. She glanced over as Jeff sighed, and she smoothed his hair out of his face. He gave her a tired smile. "I just can't do this anymore," Jeff said quietly.

   "Do what?"

   "For the last two months I've been acting like a spoilt younger brother, not even trying to understand Matt. And now, when he needs a big brother, I…I can't do it. I don't know how to do this…I can't be there for him." Jeff buried his face in his hands. "And you know what the worst part is?" his muffled voice asked.

   "What?"

   He lifted his head. "He's always been there for me."

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt winced, as he saw a bruise on Lita's shoulder turning an ugly green and yellow colour. He lightly pressed a kiss on it, and Lita murmured. He smiled, before reaching for a small white-capped bottle. Tipping a little of the fluid inside onto his fingertips, he pushed her shirt up to her neck and top of her back, so he could smooth out her skin more easily. He inhaled softly as the unique mixture of a light peppermint and Lita's own soapy, clean scent invaded his nostrils.

   _Royal Rumble,_ his mind ventured. _The reunion of the Hardyz._

_FLASHBACK_

   Matt Hardy watched from his changing room as Spike nailed the Dudley Dog on one of his half-brothers. "Oh God, someone put those guys out of my misery," he groaned. "Dudleys fighting, Hardyz fighting, Edge and Christian fighting…God, if the APA and Scotty and Albert start fighting, the tag team section's going straight to hell."

   Bradshaw snorted. "You know, they're planning to split up Scotty and 'bert?" he questioned in passing. He stopped at the door of the room so he and Matt could have a half-decent conversation.

   Matt dropped his head into his hands. "Great, so every good tag-team match is going to be you and Faarooq versus Billy and Chuck."

   The big Texan shrugged. "Eh, don't be too sure about that. They're actually gonna try pairing up Edge and Christian up with someone, eventually. Not each other, though."

   "Any idea who?" Matt inquired. "I don't remember anything about other teams joining the ranks of tag-team greatness."

   Shrugging again, the former offensive tackler for the Raiders waved as he left. Matt could hear Bradshaw's footsteps going down the hall, then slowing, and finally stopping.

   Lita raised her eyebrows at the sight of a half-dressed Bradshaw leaning on the doorframe. She watched curiously as he chatted animatedly to the person inside, and as he shrugged a couple of times before waving and heading her way. She smiled as he grinned a hello, and asked innocently, "Who're you talking to?"

   Bradshaw suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. "Nobody," he stammered.

   The sight of a six-foot-seven, three hundred and eighty odd pounds man stammering out an answer to a five-nine barely one-thirty pounds of female would be enough to drive anyone for a double take. Lita nodded. "Uh huh. What's your imaginary friend's name then?"

   Bradshaw started walking again, saying as he passed, "Matt Hardy."

   Lita watched after him in disbelief. Bradshaw and Matt getting along. Kinda like Undertaker saying sorry for putting the three of them on the shelf for a month and a half.

   Matt Hardy glanced up from tying his boots as a noise was heard in the door. His mouth went dry as he saw his girl-_ex_-girlfriend, he corrected himself; standing in the door, much as Bradshaw had earlier. He gave her a half-hearted grimace as he turned back to his feet, praying that she would go.

   "I saw your match," Lita said quietly.

   Matt wrinkled his nose for a second as his laces developed a knot. "I had lots of matches," he sidestepped.

   Lita nodded, conceding the round to Matt. She looked down at her folded hands, and almost crept into the room, perching on the side of a chair, not five feet from Matt. Matt glanced up at her through his eyelashes, waiting for her to make the first move.

   "I didn't know you were okay to wrestle again," Lita tried again.

   Matt shrugged. "I'm not. Doctors don't know me though. As long as I don't get consecutive neckbreakers though then I should be fine." He paused a bit. "How are you and Jeff doing?" he asked, fiddling with his Hardy Boyz pendant.

   Lita detected the slightest bit of worry in his voice. "I'm fine…I mean, we're both fine, Jeff's almost fully healed, I've only got a sore couple'a bits, yeah, we're fully done, I mean, we're fine, I mean healed, I mean…" She trailed off with a sheepish grin.

   Matt half-smiled at her. "Um…"

   "Yeah?" Lita prompted, after an answer seemed to be non-forthcoming.

   Matt suddenly got up and headed to the back of the room, digging through his bag. "I was worried," he said quickly, rushing to get it out before he lost his confidence.

   "Pardon?" Lita asked, shocked. She had wanted this, wished for this, but never believed it would happen.

   "Ah was worried about you…and Jeff," he said a little louder, his accent heightened by the emotion he was trying to keep in check.

   Lita was speechless. "Um…we were worried about you too," she managed to get out.

   Matt gave her a smile. "Ah'm sure," he said dryly. "And that explai's why Jeff stole mah diary."

   Lita flushed. "Uh…speaking of that…" she started guiltily. She dug the book out of her back pocket, handing it back to him.

   He flicked through it, biting his lip for a moment as he saw a bent-down corner. "You 'ave read it?" he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

   "I didn't know what it was," she said softly.

   Matt nodded quietly. She couldn't tell his mood, but tried apologizing anyway. "Look, I'm sorry if…no, I know that was private, and I shouldn't have read it, I'm sorry…"

   "It's fine," Matt said, glancing up at her with liquid chocolate eyes. He took a deep breath. "Look, Ah know Ah h've been an absolute, total asshole for the last couple of months and Ah know it's not likely you're gonna forgive me, but…Ah just want to apologize. You shoudn't forgive me now, wait until Ah've actually done some'in'…"

   He was cut off by a finger on his lips. "You have done something," Lita whispered. "I thought the old Matt was dead, that there was this new, bossy, mean Matt now. I almost want to thank the Undertaker for doing this, bringing you back to me."

   She kissed him softly. Matt looked at her with wide eyes. "Wow," he said softly.

   "Matthew Moore Hardy, will you be my boyfriend?" she questioned.

   "Only if Ah can call you mah gurl."

   She gave him another quick kiss in response. "It's a deal."

   Lita bounded towards Jeff's room, practicing the words under her breath. As Jeff opened the door, she smiled and waved excitedly. He watched her bounce up and down for a few moments before shaking his head, trying to get the motion out of his head.

   "Hi Jeff!" she said, still bouncing.

   "Hi Lita," he said back, nodding his head in time to her bounces.

   "I can't accompany you to ringside in the Rumble," she said flat out.

   "Why not?" he fired back.

   She kept bouncing.  "You'll see." She paused bouncing for a solitary second. "What number did you get?" she questioned.

   "Uh…ten, I think. Why?"

   She smiled hugely. "Oh, you'll see. You will most definitely see." She skipped off, leaving one confused Hardy looking after her.

   Matt looked out, shaking out his arms and legs. Lita approached. "Nervous?" she asked.

   "A tiny bit," he told her. He looked up and smiled, drawing her in for a quick peck on the lips. "Not if you're with me," he told her honestly.

   "Ready?" she questioned, still with a bounce in her step.

   "As I'll ever be."

   "Nine!" they heard the crowd roar.

   She indicated her head towards the ring. "Who's out there?"

   Matt gave her a grin. "Hope you aren't scared of him anymore," he answered mysteriously.

   "Three!"

   Lita gave him an incredulous look. "UNDERTAKER?"

   "One!"

   Matt simply grinned, and bounced through the curtains.

   Jeff's stomach dropped as the Hardy muzik started playing. _Holy crap,_ he thought with a start. He stood and started running to the entranceway, passing a dismayed Rikishi. His mind slowed slightly as he passed a monitor, and he paused in amazement.

   Matt was wondering how the crowd would react to the Hardy music. Very well, apparently.

   The crowd was deafening. He had expected a fair round of applause, but this was amazing. He raised his hands with the gunz, and looked straight at the Undertaker. He leaned over to Lita, and said as quietly as possible, "This is for you, mah girl." He quickly pressed a kiss on her lips, and ran away down the ramp before she could hit him or worse for announcing their renewed relationship.

   Straight into the Undertaker might not have been a good move. All of their moves passed so quickly Matt wasn't aware of the individual moves, just a series of fast, hard-hitting maneuvers, only briefly noticing when Lita got involved. The first thing he was aware of was Undertaker readying him for a suplex over the top rope. _That's it,_ he thought despondently. _No more revenge for the shelving._ He was dimly conscious of the buzzer ringing, and just hoped whoever it was got a couple of good shots in on this bastard.

   Of course, he nearly had a heart attack when Death From Above started playing.

   Jeff spewed out the mouthful of water as he ran, arriving just in time to stop Matt from being eliminated. He hit Undertaker in the back, before officially entering into the Rumble.

   After both of them had taken the 'Taker down Matt stared at him. Those eyes…the same eyes that had comforted him after a bad day at school, that had watched as he writhed in agony after the first attempted Swanton went wrong…that had were so happy for him after winning the Intercontinental Championship that he himself had wanted so much, that had been filled with pain after a beating from the Undertaker…

   Those eyes that were now filled with confusion, love, happiness, fear, longing, self-doubting, questioning…

   As one they moved in for a hug, wrapping their arms around each other to cement their relationship again.

_END FLASHBACK_

   Matt smiled at the memory. He cautiously got up, Lita asleep underneath him. He slowly walked to the bathroom, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

   He stared at himself in the mirror.

   Who was he?

   Matt Hardy, boyfriend of Lita, brother of Jeff Hardy, ground attacker of the Hardy Boyz?

   Or just plain Matt?

   He didn't know anymore.

   But that really didn't matter.

   Through almost everything two people had been there for him, only not there when he pushed them away.

   He washed his hands in the sink, closing his eyes in painful recollection of a Twist of Fate.

   The Twist of Fate dissolving the Hardy Boyz.

   Two years on and he still didn't know why he did it.

   He dimly heard the door outside opening and closing, but paid no attention. Matt continuously washed his hands, as if to wipe away a memory. Why had he done it?

   _Because it was a sham._

   _You were living a lie._

   Matt screamed mentally, _SO WHAT? At least I wasn't alone…_

   The fact was, Lita and he had been deluding themselves. The love they had shared so many months ago slowly dissolved, remaining just for friendship. The roster split that had let him get away from his brother had dissolved as quickly as their romantic relationship. Luckily they weren't pushed into a feud, both remaining top faces to defeat the purpose of an all-Hardy match up.

   Matt wiped his hands dry, bowing his head. He let a tear escape.

   Why had he done it? Why hadn't Jeff come after him, wanting to make him pay? Why hadn't Jeff asked for a match after the dissolution of the split?

   Because only ten minutes before the match he had told Jeff he loved him.

   More than a brother.

   Jeff was disgusted. As was expected. He had been told that they weren't a team anymore, that he had to find some way to break them up.

   Matt had done a pretty good job of hiding the tearstains before attacking Jeff.

   He suddenly felt warm arms around his waist, and he leaned back slightly. His eyes shot open, staring at the floor in shock.

   Whoever this was was just as tall as him…ruling out Lita.

   He slowly, hauntingly slowly raised his eyes. The cupboard under the sink, a tiny little flower etched into the wood of the cupboard door, the soap still on the sink. His eyes met the mirror.

   "Surprise."

   Matt stayed in the same position, his hands unconsciously moving to his waist to check that there was actually something warm around him, and he wasn't dreaming.

   "I am so sorry."

   Matt fought the urge to pinch himself.

   "I didn't…"

   The voice trailed off as Matt had no reaction to any of it.

   "You shouldn't forgive me," it said quietly. "I'll go."

   The voice's owner quickly walked out of the room, but not fast enough as Matt slammed the door shut inches before the figure could make a clean getaway.

   "Look, I'm sorry, alright?"

   Matt pushed the figure back onto the single bed. "Why now?" he asked simply, briefly wondering where Lita had gone to.

   The figure stared at his hands, nervously twirling in his lap. "Me an' Edge have…a relationship, as you know."

   Matt nodded. The bolt of pain that had ripped through him when he found out was hard to forget.

   "We were…" The figure trailed off with a sheepish look. Matt got the drift. "And I called out your name," the man finished softly. "Edge flipped. He's…right now he's probably bonking that new kid like hell, but that's not the point."

   Matt felt something inside him do something. He wasn't sure whether it was something snapping, or something repairing itself.

   "And you wanted to know if I still loved you," Matt finished softly.

   The figure said nothing, drawing one knee up to his chest. He looked so desolate…

   Matt crouched in front of him, considering him. "We're going to hell for this," he muttered brokenly, a smile gracing his face.

   Their lips met, and every thought flew out his head.

   The Hardy music started, and the fans began cheering like hell. This match had been announced only a few minutes earlier, and they were hoping the heel team of Test and Chris Jericho would get their butts kicked. However…only Matt Hardy had been assigned the match, apparently with a mystery partner.

   But…it was Matt's Titantron. That had thrown out all the old footage of tag wrestling ages ago, and the HB symbol was no more. So…why was there a five-second fast-forward of a Twist of Fate-Swanton Bomb compilation?

   The answer was simple. And answered quickly.

   Matt entered the ramp in black lighting, no surprise. He entered with glow-in-the-dark clothing, that wasn't a surprise either. Even a thin glow-in-the-dark line through his hair wasn't much of a surprise; he had been doing different things to his appearance so much that Jeff was starting to have competition.

   The surprise was that Jeff himself was next to Matt, headbanging to the music and wearing an old Hardy shirt.

   Matt caught his brother's eye and smiled.

   One night sure does make a difference…