Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Threesome, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, etc.
Once, they had called him the 'Best in the World'.
Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson had done it. He had Phil's title around his waist, and now, what did Phil have? He had 434 days that meant nothing. He knew that he had made some mistakes along the way. He certainly hadn't made any friends while he had been busy stabbing everyone in the back. But then, he hadn't needed friends. Now, he wished that he had someone to talk to, someone that wouldn't look at him with utter hatred.
Once, Chris had called him 'beautiful'.
The contempt in Chris' eyes remained burned in his memory. If he could find some way to bleach it out, he would. Chris hated him. Chris had called him out on his weaknesses, had made him feel vulnerable and naïve. After he had lost his match to The Rock, Chris – his own lover – had called him nothing more than an insecure megalomaniac. His brilliance as WWE Champion was little more than a delusion of grandeur.
Once, Dwayne had shown him 'respect'.
There had been a time where Phil and Dwayne could stand as equals, but Phil couldn't remember it. His skin burned for them. Kofi said that he cried for them in his sleep. And after Kofi lost at the Royal Rumble, Phil's mouth had run off and now he didn't even have Kofi to lean on. The 'Best in the World' was all alone. But the tigers come at night, and for a man who based his life on a title-belt that he just lost, isolation was dangerous…
Chris blinked blearily, awakened by the sudden cold in the middle of the bed. The crook between himself and Dwayne, where Phil would usually be, was vacant. "Mmm… Phil? Philly?" No answer.
"What's the matter?" Dwayne asked, his eyes still closed and his body slouched over where Phil should have been. If Phil was still there, he probably would have smothered him.
Chris was fully awake now. "Phil, baby, where are you?" He turned on the light on the bedside table, freaking out when he saw that Phil wasn't in the bathroom. "Phil, baby, this isn't funny."
Chris shoved Dwayne's shoulder. The new WWE Champion slowly started to awaken. "What the hell? The Rock was sleeping!" Chris yanked the blankets off of him. "Don't take The Rock's covers!"
"We have more important problems then some covers, Dwayne. Phil's missing." Chris fussed, sliding out of bed and looking for his boxer shorts. "He knows better than to just wander off."
"Maybe he just needs to think." Dwayne mumbled, but there was no conviction behind it. "He did just have a brutal match less than five hours ago." Dwayne offered.
Chris rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he did. At that same match, he was also humiliated by you and Mr. McMahon. Not to mention the fact that he lost his title. You're his lover. You're supposed to care about him, not humiliate him."
"It wasn't my fault that he was a bloody miserable champion. But yes, I know what you mean. There were… different ways to do it, I guess." Dwayne slid out of bed and started to dress.
"Try his cell phone. I doubt that he'll answer, but it's worth a shot." Chris ordered as he slid into his shoes. He checked the balcony as well, but Phil wasn't there either.
Dwayne tried his cell phone, but he wasn't surprised to find that Phil didn't answer. If Phil was as desperate as they pinned him to be, it wasn't so out-there to think that he ditched his phone somewhere along the way. He ended the call prematurely and turned to Chris, shaking his head. This only added to the recently rehired star's fears. He grabbed his keys, just in case he would need them, and started for the door.
The first place they checked was the roof. It seemed like such an obvious place, but if Phil was desperate, then he wouldn't think of that. But Phil wasn't there, and there was no sign that he had been there. Not wanting to waste any more time, they took the elevator back down to the ground floor and made their way out to the parking garage. Shortly thereafter, they were in the car and on the road.
But where to look? It wasn't like they had an in-depth look into the younger man's mind. They realized what would have been in his head, sure. Neither of them loved him. Nobody cared about him. The fans hated him, Vince hated him… And he was no longer the WWE Champion. It was dangerous, his fixation on that title belt. And it wasn't made any better by the fact that Phil felt like he had nobody to turn to. He felt alone.
Phil stared down at the water. It was beautiful in its endlessness. He could clearly see where the lake started. It was fed by rivers from all around it, and other rivers carried the water away in an endless cycle. It was like his title reign. That would have been endless as well, had it not been for Dwayne. There was a reason why Phil didn't like to be involved with storylines with his lovers. Someone was always cheated in the end.
Dwayne had won. That was wonderful. The People's Champ had the gold around his waist one last time. And then he would retire and return to show business. His short title reign would mean so much more than Phil's 434 days, and Phil didn't understand it. He would have much rather been stripped then experience the hell that he felt inside. But then, it just made this decision that much easier.
He climbed over the barrier and sat down on the tiny ledge. It had to be a fifty foot drop down. Simple enough. Most likely, he would go into cardiac arrest before he even felt the jagged rocks at the bottom of the lake pierce his skin. He rose to a standing position, anchoring himself just so, when headlights flashed over him. His heart thudded madly in his chest. It was over. They had found him.
The car screeched to a halt and before it had even fully stopped, the men were tumbling out and pulling Phil back onto the other side of the barricade. "God, Phil! You don't know how worried we were!"
The Rock stared into Phil's olivine eyes, still disturbed by what he had almost witnessed. "Were you really about to kill yourself, Phil? Over a title belt?"
Phil broke down then, tears filling his eyes. "It's not the title belt. And it is the title belt. It's everything, okay? It's you. It's Chris. It's me. Why can't you just let me die?"
"Because we love you too much to lose you, baby boy." Chris swore, peppering Phil's tear slick face with kisses.
"God, don't you ever think that we would just let you die." Dwayne chastised him, but the worry was clear in his eyes.
"You're beautiful, Phil. And it would be such a waste of a life if we let you jump, don't you see that?" Chris asked.
Even as Phil tried to hide his face, the tears continued to come. "Even if I'm not the WWE Champion anymore?"
Chris shot a look to Dwayne, telling him that this was his territory. "Phil, you don't have to be Champion to deserve our love. We were together before you were champion, right?"
Phil nodded, sobbing into Chris' chest as the rock n' roll star rocked him back and forth. "Right."
"It doesn't matter if there's gold around your waist or not. We love you anyhow."
Phil seemed hesitant to believe him. However, he allowed Chris to pick him up and carry him to the car. Gently, he was situated in the backseat and buckled in. Normally, he would have complained about being treated like a baby, but, deep down, right now, he needed to be pampered. The drive back to the hotel was short, or maybe it was because Phil clocked out in the backseat. But the next time he awoke, he was in bed between Dwayne and Chris.
Chris was singing to him softly, brushing the hairs away from his face. Dwayne had one muscular arm hooked around his middle, offering silent, but sure, protection in the night. This was the way that it should be, Phil thought with a smile. Title belt or no, they were still a family. He closed his eyes, relishing the feeling of Chris' lips pressing to his forehead and Dwayne's lips pressing to his shoulder.
"We love you, baby boy. Don't you ever forget how much you mean to us." Chris and Dwayne softly declared their love for the smaller man. "I don't know what we'd do without you."
Phil, relaxing for the first time that night, answered. "I love you too. Both of you." The rest could be solved in the morning.
A/N: Sorry if it's a little choppy and doesn't really flow I'm getting over some minor writer's block. Should be back to one-hundred percent soon!