Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: Listen here: I don't care if you don't like Jeff or hate Jeff Hardy. This story isn't for you then. He has fans who aren't going to just pick up and leave who do care. He's a human being with feelings and problems just like the rest of us. Considering for the most part none of us know him personally, I don't think we have any right to pick apart a news story and say it's the complete truth. I take Journalism: the news is meant to manipulate you. And even if it does come to be true: I don't care. So there. For the rest of the Jeff Hardy fans out there who love him like I do: enjoy! And for the haters? *waves* Don't care! Bye! :)

He expected them to be angry. He knew he'd lose fans and he was sure all the respect he had regained would be gone. When he closed his eyes, he saw the taunts and the pain that followed. They were right to a degree – he had done something wrong. But he was human. A human with problems just like anyone else. It didn't matter what his problems with. Why couldn't people instead of offering hate offer reassurance or a helping hand? Why kick someone when they were down?

Maybe he did deserve it. He had let down the fans. He had proved Punk's character right, hadn't he? But he'd had the fun along his ride. The fall down was what hurt him.

Walking home from clearing his head, he knew she'd be waiting when he opened that door. She hadn't seen him since he was arrested and worry plagued him. She never was mad at him when he broke again. She always offered her hand and helped him back up. But fear was stabbing at him – would she be there this time around? He got arrested this time. Someone had offered a "tip" to get him so. Who was it? He didn't even care. All he cared about was her opinion and the other opinions of those closest to him. The fans were important too, but they didn't dictate his life. They were just a cushion to help sooth the pain. They weren't the ones that he kissed goodnight. She was.

Coming up the steps, he took a deep breath and opened the door. He could hear her in the kitchen, cursing at the stove. A smile laced his face momentarily. She was always fighting technology these days. The smile fell through. Only a few pieces of sheetrock were between them now.

"Beth?" he called out quietly. "I'm home."

She appeared in the doorway, her face serious. He expected that. But what would she say? A smile appeared on her face. "It's almost ready. I don't think I burned it after all."

"What?" Well… if she was burning everything he owned, he understood that.

"Come on." The smell didn't smell like burning possessions. It smelled… good. Sweet. Beth opened the door to the oven and exposed a cake without icing. "Why don't you go shower?"

She was probably waiting to yell. He agreed though, taking his time. The more time he spent at home with her before she kicked him out would be good. Maybe the memory wouldn't fade then. She'd be his forever. When he was finished showering, he came back into the kitchen. Beth wasn't there but on the table was something he never expected to see. The cake, icing covering it. And on the cake it said, "I love you."

"I know I'm not much of a cook, but it's the best I could do, Jeffro."

He flipped around, seeing her warm expression. "What?"

"What's the matter?" Her face fell. "You don't like it?"

"No, I do." He pulled his hand through his hair. "I just…. I don't deserve it."

Beth came over and hugged him around the waist tightly. "You don't have to deserve it," she muttered. "Just know I love you and that's all that matters."

Yay Beth and Jeff cuteness. REVIEW!