"I knew you liked us," a familiar voice cuts into Neville's thoughts. He'd left when Strowman came out, leaving him and the other Cruiserweights to finish Enzo off to their liking.
He exhales. Looks up. "What do you want, TJP?"
TJ smirks, spreads his hands out. "There are no cameras in here, Neville. I think you can get away with just calling me TJ now, don't you?" Neville frowns over at him as he walks closer. "I didn't agree to allow him on our show, just so you know." There had been a vote at some point, when Angle informed the Cruiserweights that Enzo was looking for a new place to land when everyone on Raw hated him. Neville had left it to them after making his disdain for the other man well known. Most had voted for, wanting fresh blood, more eyes, or some just finding Enzo amusing. TJ had been the rare no vote, not seeing the point of adding another name to the list of people to fight to keep away from his title.
Neville doesn't respond and TJ walks over, sitting on the bench next to him. He looks awful, eyes red-rimmed and body twitching this side of manic, like he hasn't slept for weeks, which is weird because he's only lost the title the night before. TJ almost feels bad for him. Almost.
"So," he says slowly. Neville's aggrieved exhale makes TJ laugh softly, staring down at his hands. "What are you going to do from now on? Without a title opportunity?"
"I'll think of something," he says, not looking at TJ.
"Right," he responds, clapping his hands on his knees. He's about to get up, go somewhere, when the general beaten down exhaustion from Neville gives him pause. "Hey, where are you staying?"
"Where am I staying," Neville repeats painfully slowly, as if mocking TJ for asking such a dumb question. But he loses steam quickly and presses his fingers into his eyes. "Hotel I suppose."
The suggestion seems to come out of left field, TJ looking as surprised as Neville feels when he asks. "Why don't you come home with me and get some uninterrupted sleep for once?" They'd roomed together a few times when aligned briefly against Austin Aries and Neville looks unimpressed that TJ remembers how poorly he tends to sleep in hotels, with the people constantly making noise and cars on the freeway nearby and...
He expects TJ to withdraw the offer in time but, the longer he takes to deny, the more certain TJ looks. What the hell, he decides. "Fine."
Neville weighs what to do with his rental but ultimately returns it early, opting to drive in TJ's car. Aware that this means they'll have to drive together to Arizona for 205 Live in the morning. The idea isn't as irksome as he thought it might be. And in the end, TJ's house is fine. Even with the pigs in opposing corners, play pens set up with toys and water, Neville standing aside awkwardly, watching him kneel down and pet the larger pig before going over to the baby and scooping him up. Ignoring Neville's refusals, TJ walks over to him and grins, teeth flashing. "Pugsley, meet Neville." He plops the baby pig in Neville's arms and watches as Neville's jaw goes slack, his eyes widening at the squirmy, soft animal in his arms.
The pig- Pugsley- keeps nosing at him with his wet snout, making soft noises every so often, and Neville bites his lip, overwhelmed by surprise and an odd need to protect the little creature in his arms. "Why is he so small?" Neville finally asks, looking up as TJ chuffs Pugsley, looking proud and affectionate and a bunch of sacchrinely sweet emotions that makes Neville uncomfortable to look too closely at.
"He was the runt of his litter," TJ explains with a soft laugh. "He's kind of sickly at times, but he gives Cupcake a run for her money and we're getting better at keeping the veterinarian happy. Aren't we, Pugsy?"
Neville blinks as TJ takes Pugsley from him and smoothly transfers him back to his playpen, watching him run around before he rolls over into his blankets and snuggles in, falling asleep. "Why would you want the runt of the litter though? Especially with a normal sized pig that you knew would already have the size advantage on him?"
TJ laughs again. "I saw a picture and he was just too cute to leave behind. Besides, runts are... usually unwanted, and then what? I knew the rest of the litter would be chosen quickly. They would get owners easily, but the thought of leaving Pugsley to end up alone..." He shrugs. "It was just the right decision for all of us."
Neville tilts his head. Considers this for a moment before walking closer. He doesn't say anything, just stares down at the sleeping pig before TJ snaps out of his thoughts. "Uh," he clears his throat. "Come on, I'll show you the guest rooms. I have two, just pick whichever one you want." The rooms are mirror images of each other, except that one is next to TJ's and the other is across the hall and down a door. Neville looks blankly at them for a moment before taking the room next to TJ's, dropping his things by the bed and slumping down on it. "Think you'll be able to sleep?" TJ asks from where he's hovering in the doorway, watching Neville with a frown.
"Doubt it," Neville mumbles. His already poor sleep had been affected by Tozawa beating him, and now again by the blank emptiness next to his pillow. Where his title belt used to be.
TJ hesitates. "Well, if you want company, you know how much I sleep, so. Whatever you're up for."
"Right." Neville stares at his hands, listening to TJ turning to walk off. "Hey, uh. TJ." He glances up when the other man turns back towards him. "Thanks. For... all of this." He waves a hand absently and TJ's face softens into a small smile.
"No problem, Neville. See you in the morning." He reaches in and pulls the door shut to give Neville some privacy, and Neville exhales roughly, dropping back against the bed.
It's comfortable, and quiet, calm here. He thinks he hates it. Barely lasts five minutes before he's up and pushing the door open, following soft video game music until he finds TJ in the dimly lit living room, Cupcake sprawled out along one arm and a controller in his other hand. TJ frowns and pauses the game, turning towards him. "Did I-"
"Can I-"
They stop and stare at each other. "Go ahead," TJ says.
"I can't sleep, it's too quiet," Neville admits, eyes skittering away from TJ. "Can I... play something? With you?"
"Sure," TJ shrugs. He puts Cupcake back in her pen, finds his second controller and hands it over, setting it up and exiting his game to load two-player. After a quick tutorial on what buttons do what, they settle in to play and Neville grits his teeth, TJ's experience in the game paling in comparison to Neville's lingering frustration from losing the Cruiserweight title again. It's a competitive game, one of TJ's favorite kinds, and he's totally focused on destroying Neville's player when a weight settles on his shoulder and he freezes, blinking at the TV screen before peeking over.
Neville's exhaustion's finally caught up to him and he's faded, breathing faintly as he rests against TJ's side, his hair covering his face. TJ coughs lightly and pauses the game, wincing when even this isn't enough to stir Neville. "Oh great," he sighs. "I'm stuck here, aren't I?" He puts his controller down and reaches over, brushing some of the hair out of Neville's face, considering shaking him awake... but he loses his resolve upon getting a good look at the man's face, how almost serene he looks, lips parted and eyes closed. "Dammit." He shifts Neville so he's sprawled out more comfortably on the couch and tries to go back to playing solo, but his eyes keep drifting over to check on him and he knows he's not going to get anywhere.
Turning the game off with a grimace, he turns to sit sideways, watching Neville's face as he slumbers on. They had spent so much time together in the spring, plotting against Aries in quiet hotel rooms, in bustling restuarants after events, even over the phone when TJ wasn't at events. With empty promises of title opportunites hanging between them, TJ hadn't thought much about anything but, so determined to redeem himself for his lackluster title run the winter prior. But after it was all done, and Neville had defeated him following one of the more competitive matches of his career, he'd been alone for the first time in over two months. If not for the Rich Swann nonsense falling into his lap like it had, he'd have continued on listlessly with no direction. He'd been trying to think of a game to play one night when it'd hit him out of nowhere, killing all interest in video games, or sleeping, or anything else that he was thinking about doing: He missed Neville.
His dry British humor, the vague insults he tossed at everyone in earshot, how he could command a room with one look, the mocking laugh he gave whenever TJ suggested something ridiculous to deal with Aries (making him slip on a banana peel midmatch was feasible, no matter what Neville thought) or the curious quirk of his eyebrow whenever TJ had a good idea. Whether he was wearing his drab wrestling gear or plaid and glasses, he had a bizarre kind of confidence that even TJ had to envy. Losing that presence so suddenly had left him floundering worse than he'd realized.
He sighs and rests his chin on his hand, eyes starting to feel suspiciously heavy the longer he watches Neville sleep. "You wouldn't let me live this down if you were awake," he murmurs. "So I'll just say it now. I'm glad you're here." He settles against the armrest and yawns, falling asleep just like that.
Neither say anything about waking up side by side on the couch come morning. TJ just rolls off with a groan, checks the clock, and moves to make coffee, getting food for the pigs, the usual morning routine for him. Neville sits up and stretches out some of the kinks in his neck and back, stumbling towards the bathroom to brush his teeth, splash some water on his face. "D'ya want anything for breakfast?" TJ calls after him, blinking blearily into his fridge and counting supplies.
"Tea, but you probably don't have that," he scoffs, leaving the bathroom and hovering in the doorway, watching TJ wander around.
"No, sorry, must've left it in Florida," TJ says sarcastically, pouring him a mug of coffee. "Here, dark like your soul, just the way you like it."
"Repeating material from Twitter, how unoriginal of you, TJ," Neville snarks before sitting down at the table, sipping reluctantly from the bitter, hot liquid.
"I thought you didn't follow me on Twitter," TJ sputters, thrown off-center by this.
Neville runs his finger over the rim of his mug, ignoring how TJ's eyes trace this movement. "I get bored sometimes and check in to see what ridiculous nonsense you're blathering about this time."
"You mean when you're not caps locking all over everyone's timeline?" TJ asks with a smirk, surprised when Neville peers up at him, sipping from his coffee once more.
"Yes," Is all he says, placing the cup down. "What's for breakfast then?"
TJ rolls his eyes at him. "I'm only good at making protein pancakes, so those and eggs if you want them."
"Fine." Neville continues to sip at his coffee, watching TJ wander the kitchen, working on the food. By the time breakfast is done, they both are aware of how time is getting away from them so they eat quickly, quietly, and then prepare to leave for 205 Live, TJ pausing only long enough to leave instructions for Cupcake and Pugsley's care before locking the door behind them and following Neville to the car.
TJ keeps the music low, not wanting to rock the boat after so long of not traveling with Neville, tapping his fingers to the beat at every red light. This is different, he thinks. Before, their time together had been tense, both men's expectations for the Cruiserweight title leaving them just short of tearing each other's throats out at the smallest disagreement. Now, Neville isn't champion, with no rematch possible to regain it, and TJ is... TJ is taking things day by day, week by week. There's no reason for drama between them, not now. The drive is about six hours long so at the halfway point, they stop at a gas station on the outskirts of some little town neither of them had heard of, and Neville takes over while TJ scans through his phone, catching up on social media and tweeting the necessary birthday messages and whatever else that he thinks about.
When they arrive at the arena, both move to the back to grab their things and Neville leans against the side of the car, watching him. "Thank you, TJ," he says simply. "You could've left me to fend for myself, and I would've deserved it, but you... did much more than you needed to." He tosses the keys at TJ, smirking when he catches them, and turns to head into the arena.
"You're welcome," TJ calls after him. "Catch up with you later?"
Neville raises a hand before pushing his way into the arena and TJ shrugs, unsure how to take that. Fishes out his bag and makes his way inside as well.
Nothing goes as planned early. TJ has a scheduled match against Lince Durado but Rich interrupts, chases him from the ring, and his match is canceled because of it. He only sticks around because without him, Neville would have no easy way out of the arena, keeping away from locker rooms and anywhere else he thinks Rich might look for him... when that worry escapes him as he watches Enzo Amore brutalize Neville with blow after blow after blow from his crutch, leaving him writhing and arching away from the pain on the mat. "Holy shit," he breathes, itching to go out, help somehow... but he knows Neville well enough to know that that wouldn't be appreciated, especially now.
So instead he goes to gorilla and he stands there, all thoughts of Rich Swann gone from his head. He watches, gnashing his teeth together, when Enzo makes his way through the curtain, limping and struggling to catch his breath due to his ribs, but all in all looking way too pleased with himself. He catches the look on TJ's face and almost preens with it all, continuing on his way while TJ fights his base instinct to grab the man and slam him into the nearest wall, making him feel a fraction of what Neville has been feeling since he lost the title... but he refrains because he can hear the referees admonishing and urging Neville to let them help, but of course not- Neville stumbles through on his own power, stubbornly ignoring the hands trying to help him, and TJ steps forward, reaching out for the battered, lost king, barely grazing his shoulder with his fingertips when Neville's knees buckle and he falls forward, TJ instinctively wrapping his arms around him and supporting him. "Whoa," he breathes out, staggering backwards a bit by the unexpected weight. "It... it's ok, Neville. I've got you."
The referees swarm forward to help and some strange, possessive kind of need to protect wells up in TJ and he stares at them. "I said I've got you." They pause, then back off, watching warily as TJ manuevers around, bracing Neville and curling his arm around his shoulders, guiding him slowly down the hall to the trainer's office. When they'd worked together all of those months, TJ had never gotten to do this. Never sat by Neville's side and watched him shiver and shake through the shock of a loss, the teeth gritting agony of welts and bruises forming over his body, each shot of the crutch having left a new mark on his delicate skin. Neville had sat by his side a couple of times, when Gallagher had temporarily blinded him with beer to the face, when Aries had left him writhing after keeping a chancery locked in much longer than necessary. TJ realizes he doesn't like the reverse, watching Neville suffer and tremble leaving him with a sick, anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. "It's gonna be ok," he says quietly, brushing some of the hair out of Neville's face. "They'll look you over, give you some good painkillers, and we can... go back to my house, if you want."
Neville is gritting his teeth so harshly, TJ thinks he's fighting against crying out in pain with every shift of his body against the cot, but he nods. Forces out, "Yes. I do."
"Great," TJ murmurs, trying to find a place to touch that won't hurt. Finally settles for curling his fingers around Neville's wrist, smiling weakly at him. "It's gonna be ok, Neville. It will."
The trainers do exactly as TJ had said, along with some cream to keep the wounds from getting infected, and then they hit the road. Neville is curled up in the backseat, miserable and clinging onto the blanket TJ's thrown over him, and he tries to drive carefully, although the roads leading back to California are awful, jostling him, their luggage, Neville, with every pothole and uneven patch of pavement along the way. It's the worst six hours of his life, he thinks, constantly murmuring apologies and what he hopes are faint words of comfort with every hiss and noise of discomfort that Neville can't swallow down in time.
When they arrive home, this time Neville gets to use the guest room he'd selected before properly, TJ helping him to sprawl out on the mattress before bustling around, getting him some water and shaking out more pain medicine for him. "Get some sleep," he says quietly, tilting his head and smiling wearily at Neville. "Things'll look better in the morning." He can tell by the look on Neville's face that he believes it as much as TJ does, the words sounding weak and pathetic to both of them. "If you need anything, I'll be in the next room. Just call." Unable to help himself, he reaches out and lightly brushes his knuckles against Neville's cheek, smiling down at him. Tries not to think too much about how it seemed Neville leaned into his touch just now. "I'll see you in the morning."
Neville nods, trying to shift but ultimately just sinking into the pillows and closing his eyes as TJ tiptoes out of the room to try to get some sleep himself.
He can't though, worse than usual, tossing and turning. Even going to check on the pigs doesn't help his disquiet and before long, he finds himself lurking outside of Neville's room, trying to be quiet while lost in thought, debating with himself if he should just go in or give up and go back to his room, let the poor guy sleep... Then he hears a muffled curse and blinks, knocking lightly on the door. "Come in," Neville grunts, staring up at the ceiling as he peeks in.
"I, uh... Is everything ok in here?" he asks, taking Neville's glower of agony as an answer and slipping inside the rest of the way. "What's wrong?"
"I want to roll over, but I..." He tries again, just to freeze, gasping in pain as he squeezes his eyes shut and digs his nails into the sheets.
"Whoa, ok, take it easy," TJ chides him lightly, moving over to his side and helping him to roll onto his side. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you," Neville mumbles, burying his face in his pillows and exhaling all of his tension out of his muscles. TJ pats his arm and moves to leave but Neville makes another sound and he pauses, turning to look back at him. "Would you... stay?" he grits out. "Just, ... talk until I fall asleep... if you want."
TJ's eyes soften and he laughs a little. "Sure, man. I mean, if there's one thing I'm good at, it's talking." He settles next to Neville, crossing his arms over his chest and staring at the wall across from the bed, letting his thoughts pour out of his lips until he glances over to find Neville relaxed, breathing deeply. He stops talking but he doesn't leave, feeling calm for the first time since Neville collapsed in his arms back at the arena all of those hours ago.
The rest of the week isn't much different. TJ cooks breakfast and orders in for supper, they play video games sometimes when Neville can move without wincing with every step, but for the most part, he stays in bed reluctantly, TJ keeping him company as much as he can. Even brings Pugsley in and lets the little guy snuggle with Neville sometimes, Cupcake sniffing and nosing around the guest room when TJ lets her roam free. "I can almost understand why you like them so much," Neville mumbles, eyes heavy as he floats, lulled by the warmth pressing against his chest, Pugsley's presence working better than most of his painkillers.
TJ's laugh is soft, gentle as he strokes a hand down Pugsley's back. Freezes when Neville's hand rests on top of his, squeezing his fingers. "High praise from the king," TJ tells him once he's found his voice again. Neville makes a soft noise deep in his throat, already mostly asleep, and TJ releases a breath, shifting his hand until their fingers are entangled together. He swallows, staring down at Neville's fingers, thick and tanned against his nimble, pale ones. He chuckles weakly and tries to pull away, but Neville only grips him tighter and he looks up, a shocked look on his face before he settles into this, lightly rubbing Neville's knuckles. "Alright, I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs.
By Monday, Neville is spending more time out of bed than in, his eyes still a little red-rimmed but better than the week prior. His bruises are fading to ugly shades of yellow and green, which makes TJ ache in sympathy for him, but there's nothing to be done for it as they fly out together for Raw. TJ leans against his car and eyes Neville. "Be careful this week, huh?"
Neville smirks at him. Adjusts his glasses. "Always am." He clearly doesn't have as much worry as TJ does, hoisting his bag out and walking towards the airport, like the last week hasn't happened.
TJ closes his eyes, exhales grimly and follows him at a distance, a sea of negative emotions leaving him so scattered that he almost misses the flight, his seat on the opposite side of the plane from Neville, too many people between them for him to even get a good glimpse of him. "Dammit," he sighs, pulling his earphones on and trying to lose himself in the music. It doesn't work and before long he pulls them off and almost throws them back into his bag, staring at the head rest of the seat in front of him intensely. He jumps, startled, when his phone goes off in his pocket, grabbing it and frowning at the text there. You look like you want to murder someone -N
He looks up, surprised to find that people have put their seats back far enough that he can see over to Neville's seat, the man raising an eyebrow at him curiously before turning back to his phone. Is it Swann?
Yes and no, he admits, resting his head back against his seat and closing his eyes. Just everything. The last week...
I know I'm not the best patient, don't worry, it won't happen again. The response is slow, clipped, and TJ looks over at Neville, taking in the grim glower on his face.
That's... not what I'm talking about, he responds quickly. You were fine, really. I guess, after this spring, I just... felt like you were invincible and seeing you so badly hurt threw me more than I realized. Amore went way too far and what if he does something worse tonight or tomorrow?
Neville doesn't answer for a few minutes and TJ's afraid he's said too much, still feeling the warmth of Neville's fingers against his palm, but after a minute, I'll be fine. I underestimated that fool too much, and I've paid for it in spades. He won't be so lucky next time. Their eyes lock across the aisles and TJ nods discreetly at him, Neville's lips twisted in a dangerous kind of sneer. This time when TJ tries his music again, it works at easing him, entertaining him for the rest of the flight, his texts with Neville much calmer and almost lighthearted until they land and depart, Neville smirking as he shakes a keyring at TJ, guiding him to a rental car to drive them the rest of the way to the arena for Raw.
It's quiet. Which is unsettling in and of itself, but Neville has a rematch against Ariya Davairi and he wins again... no surprise... but Enzo is nowhere to be seen. Even Rich stays away and TJ looks confused when Neville joins him afterwards, shaking his wrists out and looking around. "Nothing?"
"Nope," TJ says simply, stepping aside to let Neville through. They walk side by side to the locker room, keeping an eye and an ear out for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing happens. No one steps up to them, it's like Enzo's ceased to exist, which is actually kind of a nice thought. When he says as much, Neville's lips quirk up and he pushes the door open, letting TJ in ahead of him. "I guess he might be waiting until tomorrow night?"
"Suppose so," Neville says, unwrapping his wrists and toeing his wrestling boots off. "Avoiding Braun Strowman I assume. Even fools have a moment of intelligence every now and again."
"I resemble that remark," TJ cracks, slouched comfortably against the bench while he waits for Neville to get cleaned up and changed so they can leave.
Neville glances over at him and rolls his eyes. "No you don't," he says dismissively. "You're no fool." He's already walking into the shower area as he tosses this comment over his shoulder, missing the look of shocked pleasure on TJ's face.
When they arrive to 205 Live the following night, there's still been no sign of Enzo and Neville's jaw works as he flexes his fists. TJ is still keeping an eye out for Rich, but Neville has a match against Brian Kendrick so he gets dressed and leaves, TJ walking towards gorilla to watch from there, maybe stop Gallagher from interfering. He's standing there, slouched, with his hands in his pockets, when he hears footsteps behind him. Thinking nothing of it due to production staff always all over the place, TJ rocks forward on his heels, enjoying the back and forth between the two men he's partnered with the most since signing with WWE last year, Kendrick almost on par with Neville's deviousness, his confusing offense leaving Neville just a little off-balanced.
Things have just hit another gear, looking like Kendrick could eak out a surprising victory, when a sharp pain strikes up TJ's spine, sending him arching away with a cry of shock and agony. He rolls around and looks up at his assailant just to get another solid strike to the solar plexus, spitting and struggling to breathe through the pain as Enzo kneels down, knee pressing down on his ribs. He scrabbles and struggles, wondering why no one's trying to break this up when he realizes- noone is nearby, everyone watching the match or busy with post-production for Smackdown away from gorilla. He squeezes his eyes shut in frustration just to let out a rough moan when Enzo presses the bars of his crutch against TJ's throat, an ugly, dark sneer on his face. "How you doin'?" he mocks. TJ's eyes lock on him and he smirks. "Oh good, ya can still hear me." He presses down, fascinated, as TJ struggles and chokes. "So I was thinkin'. Your buddy Neville, my beatin' him and takin' his girl, and then whipping him to near an inch of his life last week hasn't done enough. He's still targetting me. So I was thinkin' I could do the easy thing and, like, end his career, put him out of his misery, but then I saw somethin' that made me see there's other ways to get what I want."
He leans in closer, putting more pressure on TJ's windpipe. "Ya wanna know what I saw?" Ignoring TJ's struggles, he presses close to TJ's ear and whispers, "I saw the two of you. How you were determined ta protect him last week. You have feelin's for him, don'tcha?" Something dark crosses his eyes. "No point in tryin' to deny it. I've been there. Got booted in the face for it, but yeah, been there, done that." He adjusts his grip on the crutch and sighs. "Too bad too, I kinda liked your style, TJ. But I figure if my hurting him won't make him back off, then the best way to do it is to do somethin' to the only other person he seems to really give a damn about."
TJ's fading, spots dancing before his vision, and Enzo leans in. "One last thing before you lose consciousness. I ain't above doing worse to him than what I did to you tonight if you tell him who did this to ya. You thought last Tuesday was bad? It's minor leagues to what I'm fully capable of when I ain't got nothin' else to lose. Keep that in mind." Finally pulling the crutch away, he pats TJ's face sanctimoniously and gets up, limping away just as Neville's music hits to herald the end of the match.
Neville is pleased, if a little frustrated by the lack of ... anything by Enzo Amore. He heads backstage, expecting TJ's easy grin and simple congratulations on another win, just to skid to a stop, finding a bunch of referees and medical staff circling someone on the ground nearby. He pales, suspecting who it is, pushing through the crowd just to see TJ's sneakers poking between two people. "Move," he barks, getting past them and kneeling by TJ. Shit. If he had been beat up the week prior, unable to look at himself in the mirror without seeing at least one bruise, TJ looks even worse, his delicately pale skin showing off every inch of discoloration, every breath seeming a struggle. His throat, his arms where he'd obviously tried to fight off his attacker, and a huge bruise in the shape of a knee, maybe, right in the middle of his ribcage. Worse than that though is the lack of response as Neville cups his face, suddenly desperate to see his deep brown eyes. "TJ! Hey, hey, I'm here. Wake up. TJ, come on-" Referees push him aside then so the medical staff can get to him, Neville unable to do anything but sit there, absently watching as they work on him.
Oxygen cannula to assist his breathing, neck collar just in case, stretcher- it's all so horrifying. Neville swallows compulsively, not wanting to leave TJ's side for a minute, following them through the halls to a waiting ambulance. The ride to the ER, the waiting room, everything is a distant buzz in the back of Neville's mind as he watches TJ's face for as long as he can until they take him away for further examination and leave him to sit in uncomfortable chairs to wait. He all but ignores the nurse once she allows him back, nearly sagging in on himself when he walks into the room and finds TJ's eyes fixed on him, face pale and hand shaky but warm and alive when he walks up to the bed and squeezes his fingers. "I'm gonna find who did this," he promises him. "And they're going to regret ever laying eyes on you, much less this."
But instead of looking reassured by this, fear crosses TJ's face and his heartrate ticks up as he shakes his head desperately, tears filling his eyes. Neville watches on in surprise as the nurse checks his vitals and then rests her hand on TJ's chest, comforting him with soft whispers until he relaxes, sniffing. "Keep him calm please," she says, voice tinged with frustration as Neville nods mutedly, waiting until she leaves to sit down.
He leans in and rests a hand on TJ's, curling his fingers around his palm. "TJ. TJ?" Once he has his attention, Neville searches his face. "I just need you to answer a question, ok? Just... squeeze my hand if I'm right." He exhales before whispering, "Was it Amore who did this to you?" TJ's face is terribly blank at this, his hands still, and Neville watches him closely. "Then who, TJ? Who?" TJ closes his eyes and looks away, lips twisting in pain at even that small movement, and Neville bites his lips. "Alright, never mind. It's unimportant right now." He lets go of TJ's hand and cups his face, easing his head back to its prior angle to ease the pressure on his throat. "We'll figure that out some other time."
Despite how terrible the bruises look, how pale and weak TJ seems, he's released the next day and Neville fumbles with the rental car keys after Brian Kendrick drops it off at the hospital- "I'm only doing this because TJ is... ok for a tag partner. Sometimes"-, eyeing him with a sneer before walking back to the car that Jack Gallagher is waiting for him in. Neville works his jaw, wondering if maybe they could be the cause of TJ's injuries, but shakes his head. It has to be Enzo, nothing else makes sense, he thinks. But until TJ tells me himself... I can't be sure... He turns as TJ is wheeled out, a nurse smiling as Neville rests his hand on TJ's shoulder, kneading the tense muscles there. "Ready to go home?"
It's an odd reverse of fates now- Neville is the one taking care of TJ, bringing him the pigs to snuggle or play with, cooking for him, trying to encourage his appetite with some of his favorite foods from delivery places nearby. There are lines of pain on his face no matter how he moves and Neville watches as the bruises along his throat and chest spread, darken. Feels his anger shift and grow in time with them. Keeps a close eye on TJ's breathing, especially when he's asleep, and takes the week off from wrestling to sit with him, make sure his recovery continues on as expected.
The only thing that's off is TJ hasn't spoken a word since waking up in the hospital room. Even when the swelling in his throat goes down and he looks a little less pained at every swallow, no words come. Neville talks in depth with his doctor about it, even calls the ER that TJ had been admitted to, but everyone tells him the same thing. He may just need more time, the bruising and swelling was extensive. If it goes much longer though, maybe it's some sort of emotional trauma and he should think about therapy.
Neville isn't near as good at filling the silence as TJ, but he tries, sometimes talking about random things from Britain or wrestling opponents he's had over the years, sometimes playing music or just letting TV shows drone on in the background when his words dry up, TJ's eyes always on him as he indulges him with a weak smile. They eat together, the pigs nosing at them when allowed out of their pins, and work together to feed them, Neville actually liking to feed Pugsley as his warm nose presses against his hand every other bite, eager for more food. "You know he reminds me of you," Neville says quietly, nudging Pugsley's snout away gently. "I can see why you were drawn to him."
TJ's eyes are soft, lips twitching up into the first sincere smile Neville's seen on him since his injury. Neville stares at him for a few moments before setting Pugsley down on his blanket and inching closer to TJ, carefully cupping his face. Searches his eyes for any hesitation before leaning in and lightly kissing him. TJ makes a soft, satisfied noise deep in his throat, gripping Neville's shirt and kissing him back, exhaling shakily when Neville pulls away and presses their foreheads together, fingers tracing over his bruises gingerly. "Sorry," he whispers. "Kind of wanted to do that for awhile now, it's just felt like-" Before he can finish, TJ curls his fingers against the back of Neville's neck and kisses him, shutting him up easily.
Neville hopes, for a wild moment, that this level of intimacy will suddenly break TJ's silence, that he will start speaking, but nothing in life's that easy and the silence continues weighing them down. Then the notice comes in that WWE wants to see TJ and Neville's hand is forced to take him to the Raw arena that week, where there are so many unknown things at play. Neville still isn't sure if it's Enzo or someone else he has to keep an eye out for, he isn't sure if he'll be able to keep TJ safe. It eats at him but neither of them have a choice so he sits with TJ, helps him pack, and then through the airport the next morning to make their flight in time.
People in the hallways whisper, gossip. No surprise after how long both of them's been missing, but the still ugly bruises along TJ's throat seem to shut people up, cause their curious gazes to skitter away as soon as they see it. He grips TJ's hand and squeezes gently, smiling at him when TJ looks over at him. Neville does a short backstage interview, his thoughts so pre-occupied with TJ, who is getting examined by WWE's medical staff right now, that he can barely focus on the Cruiserweight title or Enzo, eager to find out what they have to say. He sneers through the interviewer's questions before facing the camera, eyes wide and wild. "As soon as I find out who exactly attacked TJ... you will pay." He laughs darkly. "So greviously that you will wish you'd never heard my name, or his, before." He stares into the camera for a few moments longer before turning and marching down the hall, each step clipped and determined.
TJ's eyes are closed when Neville slips into the trainer's office, stirring only a little when Neville takes his hand. He smiles sleepily and hums, squeezing back, the trainer returning and pausing briefly as he sees Neville and TJ's moment. Wisely saying nothing, he moves onto explaining TJ's injury, the medical jargon unimportant to Neville. "As you know, he's not speaking and I can tell by his scans from his actual doctor and everything that I've seen tonight that it's nothing physical, his throat is healing nicely. Maybe it's time he sees a therapist or someone that he's comfortable with to try to sort through what's going on that's keeping him from speaking."
Neville nods, struggling with that. He's not sure how TJ feels about therapy, or if it'd even help in the end. "I'll... we'll think about it," he says quietly. The trainer appeased, they leave and Neville keeps a close eye on him for the rest of the evening. Somewhere between Neville's injuries and TJ's, they'd started falling asleep in the same bed, but by now neither are even bothering to pretend that it's just to keep an eye on the other. No, Neville thinks, his hand grazing up and down TJ's back as his breaths brush against Neville's throat. There's definitely something more growing here. If you had told him the road they were on back last April would lead them here, he would've laughed in your face. But, he decides, looking down at TJ's peaceful face, there's no other way it could've worked out.
The next morning, he wakes up to TJ straddling him, soft kisses tickling along his cheeks and lips, across his nose and brow. Chuckling, he digs his fingers into the dip of TJ's back and feels him swallow hard, exhaling shakily. "Good morning to you too," he says, kissing TJ back once his lips are close enough. TJ smiles before pulling away and getting up, walking towards the bathroom, Neville's eyes dark and fixed on him. Once out, he curls up close to Neville and they spend a couple of quiet hours, thumbing through TV channels, eating room service that Neville decides to splurge on, not eager to find a phone number for a local place to order from or, God forbid, leave the hotel to actually find something to eat. TJ's happiness with his BLT and fries is enough anyway, Neville reflects as he picks at his grilled chicken salad.
Neville's not eager to take TJ to 205 Live but he doesn't like the thought of leaving him alone in the hotel for so long, so he has no choice after missing so much time the last couple of weeks. He leaves TJ in the trainer's office, searching his face and kissing him slowly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay here, alright? You should... be safe here." He doubts it, especially considering how in and out the trainer and his staff is, but it's his only real option.
TJ nods, patting Neville's wrists with a small smile, and watches him leave. He closes his eyes, resting back against the cot, listening for Neville's music, when the trainer excuses himself, needing to go check in on Cedric Alexander after a spill down the hall in catering. Uneasy at being alone, TJ shifts, squirms and hopes that Neville will be done soon, back by his side. The trainer comes back eventually just to leave to check on someone else and TJ grimaces, picking at his fingernails anxiously... when the door is pushed open, banging against the wall with a noise that makes TJ jump and stare ahead in shock as Enzo walks inside and shuts it with a sneer, locking it behind him. "Well, well, well, whatta we got over here? A cuppa invalids?" He rolls his eyes and approaches TJ. "Too bad, I thought you would surely be enough to distract that mountain troll of a boyfriend of yours, but nope, not for long enough. It's clear by his interview last night he's still focused on me, but y'know, credit to ya for not blabbing to him. At least someone around here listens to me." Enzo pauses and examines TJ, takes in the bruises along his throat only now starting to fade. "So maybe I should really give 'im something to think about, huh?"
He can walk better now, but he still has the crutch for show and TJ tries to grab at it, fight him off, but Enzo has the advantage and he dives back in, pressing the padded part of the crutch against his throat, glaring down at him as he once more chokes him out. He kicks and struggles, barely able to get a breath in, Enzo's eyes wide and blazing as the world fades around TJ, his body shaking with oxygen depletion. He's about to pass out again when there's a loud noise and Enzo's face freezes in shock, glancing over just before he's tackled aside, the door hanging off of its hinges and Neville all of a sudden there, a murderous look on his face. "It was you," he snarls, throwing Enzo into the wall and pressing a forearm to his throat. "I knew it." He looks over for a brief second, finding TJ on his side, gasping for air, gripping at his throat, and rage builds up in Neville as he turns back to Enzo. "I will destroy you for this," he whispers dangerously, shifting his arm so the boniest part of it is digging into Enzo's windpipe, a deranged kind of smirk crossing Neville's lips as Enzo's face turns about the shade of his title.
He leans back to check on TJ one more time and that's all it takes, Enzo taking advantage of the difference in their heights to slam his foot down, grinding his heel on Neville's previously broken ankle, causing him to yell out in pain and slack his grip on Enzo, who then slams his arms up and pushes Neville away, slipping free and escaping through the broken down door before he could grab him again. Neville hisses out a curse before walking back to TJ's side, glaring out into the hall as he strokes TJ's hair and tries to sooth him through his struggles. "It's ok. You're gonna be ok now."
TJ shudders and buries his face in Neville's chest, breathing rough and jagged. "Let's get out of here," Neville murmurs. He turns to grab TJ's bag from where it sits on the floor and that's all it takes- Enzo barrels back into the room, steel chair in hand, and TJ's eyes widen.
"NEVILLE!" he forces out of his abused throat and Neville whips around, reacting just in time to protect his head from the wild swing of the steel chair, catching it on his forearms instead. He grits his teeth against the clanging pain before gripping the rungs of the chair and forcing it out of Enzo's hands, fueled by rage and adrenaline.
Enzo staggers and tries to get in a cheap swing but Neville is faster, hits a fast fist to his jaw and downs him immediately, TJ exhaling roughly once he doesn't get up. "Come on," Neville says, tugging TJ to his feet and out of the room. He holds his breath until they make it to the car and he's got TJ settled in securely, rushing around the car and all but diving into the driver's seat, where he quickly hits the locks to seal them inside safely. As soon as he's settled, he grips TJ's face and searches his eyes. "Are you ok?!" he demands, stroking TJ's jaw.
He shudders but nods, leaning into Neville's touch as he lightly ghosts his fingers over TJ's throat, trying to determine the swelling there from this recent attack. Neville's still not content, however, frowning at him. "Let's go to the ER," he says, turning towards the steering wheel- but TJ stops him with a hand on his wrist.
"N- no," he forces out, licking his lips. Neville stares at him, absorbing his voice. "I just- I want to go to the hotel and... and relax." Speaking is strenuous now, his voice rough like gravel on glass, but he presses on. "Please?"
Neville gives in hesitantly. "Fine, but if anything starts to seem off, I'll pick you up and carry you into the hospital myself, understand?" TJ's lips quirk and he nods, releasing a breath when Neville starts the car up and drives them towards the hotel. Once they arrive, Neville hovers the entire way until TJ is safely tucked into bed, sipping from a bottle of water and looking less wane than he did back at the arena. He stares at him for a few minutes before sitting down next to him, resting a hand on his arm. "It's good to hear you're talking again," he says quietly, thumb rubbing slow circles against TJ's wrist. "You had me worried." Admitting it doesn't feel as weird as he thought it would, especially when TJ's face softens and he reaches out, resting his hand over Neville's. "I suppose there are a lot of things we should talk about."
TJ's grin is lopsided, soft. "Yeah, I mean... I thought you hated me, like, a month ago."
Neville sighs. Rubs at his face with his free hand. "I guess it would seem like that." He nudges TJ over gently and lays down next to him, feet crossed at the ankle as he stares up at the ceiling. "When... you insisted on my giving you your title match last spring," he says slowly. "Did you notice...? How I was fighting for us to continue working together? I truly didn't want to give that up. But then you put the title before us, our working relationship, and it felt like... you were never truly my friend, you were just in it for the title. And it hurt, and it made me see red. So I attacked. Then once the match was over and I won, I felt like I had to leave it all behind for my sake. And for yours. So I did. That's why I've never bothered approaching you the last few months. You had proved your point, and I mine, and I didn't know what else there was to say."
TJ exhales slowly, shaking his head. "You thought I was using you, when I was sure you were using me, and I at least wanted to get something out of it before you turned on me. Never figured that my demanding that made you feel like you had to."
Neville smirks and glances over at him. "It seems we're both rather dim at times."
TJ hums. "Or just didn't talk enough." He shifts over, rests his head on Neville's shoulder, and closes his eyes as Neville begins to run his fingers through his hair, yawning. "This feels nice."
"Yes, it does," Neville mumbles, pressing a faint kiss to TJ's forehead.
Tj starts to chuckle after a few minutes, blinking against Neville's jaw. "I guess Enzo was good for something after all," he says when Neville glances down at him, curious. "Got us to stop being prideful idiots and actually talk."
Neville makes a face like he's just tasted something disgusting. "A bit of a stretch, but I suppose if he wasn't such a pathetic creature, then we wouldn't be here right now, yes," he says reluctantly, TJ laughing at him as he sits up and cups Neville's face, leaning in to kiss him. Neville hums, sighing into TJ's mouth, and strokes his back.
After a couple of minutes, TJ pulls away with a sigh and rests his forehead against Neville's. "The night Enzo first attacked me, he told me," he begins slowly, hesitantly, that old fear spreading through him and nearly taking his words away again. TJ grits his teeth against it and searches Neville's eyes for the strength he needs to carry on. "He said if I told you anything... he would do worse to you than what he was doing to me. I woke up and it was like... I was mentally blocking myself from communicating? Like I was worried if I could talk, I would slip up and you would figure it out and Enzo would hurt you worse than he had already. But when he came after you with that chair... everything snapped and I knew I had to protect you, then I could talk again." He laughs weakly. "Weird, I know."
"Not entirely," Neville says slowly, stroking a finger down TJ's cheek. "I'm just glad it sorted itself out. I've somewhat missed your voice. I myself am far too boring and British to talk for such long durations." TJ laughs at him and Neville scoffs. "I am unsure why you're laughing, you've had to endure listening to me for the last week."
TJ's smile softens. "I like listening to you talk. It's interesting, kind of soothing." Neville blinks in surprise as TJ settles back down, wrapping an arm around his waist. "Don't sell yourself so short."
He huffs out a laugh, watching as TJ's blinks slow, then stop all together, his breaths turning deep and steady as he falls asleep against Neville's arm. "Alright, I'll try not to," he murmurs. There's a lot to be done, at the top of the list being revenge on Enzo for the last few weeks, but for now, Neville's fine right where he's at as he resumes stroking TJ's back.