Broken, a wrestling fanfic

A/N: Finishing this fic took me a lot of trouble. I don't even know when I started it, but it's more than 6 months ago and I'm still not sure if I really like it. I have the feeling it's too dramatic, over-emotional and well... it sucks. But I'll let you be the judge of that.

Warning: m/m pairing, no smut, some violence, some homophobia and loads of drama.

disclaimer: I own nothing but easily distracted muses.

Mike looked lost somehow, lost and broken. Jake chewed his bottom lip and wondered if he dared to approach the man slamming shots back at the other side of the bar. He looked nothing like the guy who used to stand out in any crowd; his energy, humor and stunning good looks always attracting a crowd of followers, men and women, fans and co-workers. And Jake had always been in that crowd, spending every minute of his time in the neighborhood of Mike, hoping for shimmer of attention, a hint that Mike knew of his existence.

Every once in a while that happened, a session in the gym together, having a drink after rehearsing a promo, the brunette whispering witty remarks in his ear during a roster meeting, or even traveling together for a few days. Every time Mike gave him the attention he craved so much, every time those intense azure eyes stared into his, Jake slammed shut. He didn't know what to say; he desperately tried to think about something funny, something smart, something at all… and all he could think about was his lisp, all the people who had told him how boring he was, how dumb he sounded when he talked, how ridiculous and annoying his smile was, what a big goof he was, so he didn't get a word across his lips when Mike was near.

Now, Mike sat alone. He slammed the next shot back, signaling the bartender to leave the bottle on the bar for him. Jake slowly made his way towards him, hesitating with every step, suspecting that Mike wanted to be left alone. After all, he'd never seen him alone before. Where were his friends anyway? Why wasn't anyone taking care of him? Because the pain on Mike's face was obvious and Jake couldn't leave without at least checking whether he was all right.

"H... H…Hello Mike," Jake stuttered, already feeling ashamed for coming over, "C..C..Can I sit here?"

Mike looked at the large blond, for the first time in weeks something that looked like a smile curling around his lips. It made Jake feel giddy deep inside his stomach.

"Hey Jake," He signaled at the empty seat next to him. "Wanna have a drink?"

"Really?" Jake blurted out. "I mean… I… You… Why?"

Mike shrugged. "Because you're here, but don't expect me to be pleasant company." He turned back to his glass and slammed it back, immediately filling it again and almost in an afterthought slamming it back.

"If you wanna be alone, I'll go. It's just, there are usually so many people around you and I thought…"

"Look where that brought me," Mike interrupted him bitterly, "all alone getting pissed." He looked at Jake again. "Serves me right for hanging out with people who suck up to me." He wanted to fill his glass again, but changed his mind and shoved the bottle away. He stared straight ahead, ripping a coaster into tiny pieces.

The silence was soon getting uncomfortable and before Jake knew what was doing he blurted out, "What's wrong with you Mike? I've never seen you like this, of course I barely know you, but you look horrible, well not horrible, you could never look horrible, but you lost weight and you look tired and you're screwing up your matches, losing all your titles and you never smile anymore, and I know it's none of my business, and I sound like a stalker, but I'm not, I'm just worried…"

He was silenced by the brunette's hand on his arm.

"I'm annoying you. I'll go, sorry." Great, just when he found his tongue in Mike's present, he turned into a talking was trying to get away, but Mike pulled him back.

"You're not annoying me. Just relax Jake… I won't eat you…." He smiled slightly and turned back to ripping yet another coaster into shreds.

"Do you know that you're the first one who asks me what's wrong? It's like no one even notices, like no one cares. Talk about a reality check." He spoke softly, Jake wasn't sure the words were even meant for him.

Somewhere he found the courage to put his hand on the brunette's forearm. "I care."

"Why?" Mike asked softly, looking at Jake with near-dead eyes. "I'm not worth it. I'm a horrible person. People are right not to care."

"I care," Jake repeated. "What happened, Mike?"

"I fucked up…" Tears shot into his eyes. "I fucked up so horribly I can't even think about it, or talk about it. I fucked up horribly and I can never make it right again."

He stuffed his fist in his mouth trying to hold in his sobs.

Jake acted quickly. He threw a fifty on the bar to pay for the drinks, wrapped his arm around Mike and guided him outside. But it was hardly anywhere private outside. There was a line of people waiting to get into the club, and the sidewalk was buzzing with by-passers. He looked around for a taxi, but there was none to be seen. He had released Mike the moment they stepped outside, not wanting the attract attention. He stared down on the smaller man who had stopped sobbing, but who was still shaking, biting hard on his lower lip.

"Do you wanna go back to the hotel?"

Mike shook his head furiously, "No… I can't… I don't wanna be trapped inside…" His breathing quickened until he was hyperventilating.

Jake immediately pulled Mike after him, seeing very well the other man was on the verge of breaking down and the best solution was getting him somewhere private soon. On his way to the club he had seen a park somewhere nearby. He turned two corners and there it was on their right.

A minute later they were alone. Mike slumped down onto the grass, hugging his knees, tears already streaming across his face. Jake slowly lowered him himself onto the ground, his eyes focused on the crying man, not knowing what to do, how to make him feel better.

"What happened, Mike?" Jake asked softly.

"I… I… my… they're…" Sobs ripped through his body, he couldn't say it, he couldn't get the words across his lips.

Eyes full of desperation looked up to the large blond, begging him for help. Jake didn't think, he just acted and pulled the broken man into his arms. Mike leant into the embrace, hid his face against Jake's shoulder and cried for minutes. Jake patiently waited, soothingly stroking Mike's back and murmuring sweet nothings in his ear. He felt ashamed how much he enjoyed having Mike in his arms; to feel the strong body against his, the hard muscles under his hands, the manly smell of his cologne in his nose.

When Mike finally got a grip unto himself he reluctantly pulled away. He hugged his knees and looked at Jake out of the corner of his eyes.

"What happened Mike?" Jake asked again, putting his hand on the brunette's shoulder. "Just start at the beginning."

Mike swallowed, "I'm gay…" He was silent, tears again pooling in his eyes. Jake just looked at him, questions in his eyes. That couldn't be the big problem, right?

"I've known that forever… but I never had the guts to tell my parents. Can you believe that? So I thought, I'm 29, it's about time I confront them about their old fashioned ideas and they would understand."

His lips trembled and he couldn't go on anymore. Jake soothingly rubbed circles over his back, giving him the time and the space to continue. When Mike was still silent minutes later, shaking and crying, he softly asked, "But they didn't understand?"

"I killed them Jake… I killed them… "

Jake stared at Mike with open mouth, he was too shocked to say anything, had no idea if there was something to say. Mike visible tensed up again, pulling back from the blond even crawling away a little. A few moments later Jake snapped out of his confusion, wrapped his arm around Mike again and gave Mike what he needed the most; a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear, he gave him his friendship.

Bit by bit Mike explained what happened.

He had wanted to avoid a fight so he had taken his parents out to dinner to tell them in public. Things worked out even worse then he feared.

"You dirty little faggot," his father almost exploded from anger. He threw his knife onto his plate and stood up, leaning threateningly over the table, nose just inches from Mike's face. "If you don't stop that nonsense right now, you're not my son anymore. I raised you better than this. I raised you to be a decent man. Look what you're doing to your mother."

His mother was sobbing in her napkin, obviously too upset, too shocked to say anything. Not that his father would even give her the chance to come to his defense.

"I told you that wrestling would be bad for you. I told you, you should've gotten a decent job…"

"But dad… I knew I was gay before I started wrestling… and I've tried, dad, I've tried with girls… but theymake me unhappy. Don't you wanna see me happy, dad? Mom?"

"I raised you to be a man, not to be some sissy. You've always been selfish, you always did everything you wanted. Well, you can do exactly what you want, you're not welcome here anymore. See how happy that makes you."

With that words his father stormed out of the restaurant, his mother followed after one last desperate look at him. Two hours later he got the call; his parents were dead, a car crash killed them both instantly and in a way it had killed Mike too.

Sometime later Mike started to feel uncomfortable.

Everything hurt; his body, his eyes and most of all his head. People who said talking about your problems would make you feel better had obviously never killed their parents and then cried about it in the arms of a relative stranger. What had he been thinking telling everything to Jake? Maybe it was just the fact that Jake had taken control, that for just one moment he didn't need to think anymore. Not thinking always got him into trouble. Like his father always told him, he had no self-control whatsoever, spilling his private business to the first one asking him. He barely even knew Jake, not because he hadn't tried, but because Jake never seemed to like him all that much.

He glanced at the blond who was obviously deep in thoughts, eyes half closed and probably exhausted. With their job every minute of sleep was precious and he had just robbed Jake of an entire night of it.

"Jake? Can we… I mean if you don't mind…" Stupid idiot, of course he doesn't mind. He's here because you fell apart, it's not like he's enjoying it. "Shall we go back to hotel?"

The shimmer of relief in Jake's eyes made him cringe. He felt horrible for keeping him up like this, for dumping all his problems on a guy who simply showed some polite interest. His father had been right about him all the time, he was a selfish coward.

On the way back to the hotel they were both silent. Mike kept glancing at Jake, who looked more asleep than awake as they walked through the empty streets. He tried to find something to say, something normal, something cheerful but his brain simply didn't work. Jake didn't say anything, probably because he wanted to prevent another breakdown.

Only when they were at the hotel, hesitating in front of Mike's hotel door, he spoke, "Will you be all right, Mike? I can stay with you if you want."

He wanted that. He didn't want to be alone. He wanted Jake to stay and hold him so he would feel safe again. He wanted Jake to taken him in his arms and kiss him and make love to him and to show him that what he was wasn't such a bad thing.

"No, I'll be fine." Was that his voice, so cold and impersonal? In his room, leaning his forehead against the cool door, he realized he hadn't even thanked Jake.

Jake sighed deeply when he fell down onto his bed. He wished there was more he could do for Mike, he wished Mike would've let him stay. It broke his heart to see him like this, to see him filled with guilt about something that obviously wasn't his fault.

"You're back late. Had fun?" The sleepy voice of his roommate broke through his thoughts.

"Not exactly." He pulled a face as Evan sat up in his bed and put his glasses on. "Never mind, I'll tell you tomorrow."

"No, tell me! You can't make me curious like that and then go to sleep. So did the All American American get rejected again?"

"Ha ha… very funny. Nothing like that… it's…" He hesitated, how much could he tell his friend without betraying Mike? But he needed someone to help him figure out what to do. Evan was so much better at stuff like this. "I met Mike in town. He looked like shit, so I asked him what was wrong…"

"And?" The curiosity sparkled out Evan's eyes.

"It's nothing juicy, Ev. Even if it was, you would be the last one I'd tell." The insulted look Evan threw him made him chuckle despite his current mood. "His parents died recently and he blames himself for it. I don't think he even told anyone before he told me."

Evan whistled. "Poor guy. No wonder he's fucking up like this. Does Vince know? You know, before he gets fired?"

"Shit… I hadn't even thought about that. I just want to help him." He crawled under the covers and closed his eyes. "I just want to see him smile again."

"Still crushing, buddy?" Evan asked softly while he turned off the light.

"Like crazy."

The following day Jake hesitated in front of Mike's door again, raising his hand at least a dozen times before he dared to knock. He felt slightly sick with nerves. Last night had been unreal in so many ways, not the least because he had completely forgotten about his shyness, but now his insecurity had come back in full force. Little nagging thoughts plagued him; insecurities bothered him. He had almost convinced himself that he should stay away, that Mike didn't want anything to do with him. But at the very least he needed to tell Mike what he had done.

It took a while before Mike opened the door. Jake drunk in his image. He still looked pale and grim, but the desperation of last night had faded. It looked like he had found some hidden strength. A slight smile crossed his lips, fading away quickly as he invited Jake in. He looked uncomfortable, avoiding Jake's eyes. He looked like he wanted to be left alone.

"Mike, I… well… I did something and I hope that you're not mad with me but… well…" He looked at the ground, feeling incredible stupid. He shouldn't have done it, not without talking to Mike first. He was groping for words.

The silence between them continued, grew uncomfortable, almost painful, when Mike broke the tension by cupping his cheek, turning his face up so that their eyes met. There was a connection between them, something that lured him in, something that made him think it wasn't all that hopeless anyway. He had to resist pulling Mike into his arms and kissing him senseless. He felt ashamed of even thinking that, of wanting to take advantage of his vulnerability and he quickly pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind. Suddenly Mike turned away, breaking their eye contact almost like it burned him.

"What, Jake? What did you do?" He asked softly, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"I called Vince and… well… told him what happened… I knew I shouldn't butt in, but… well… I thought… there's talk of another round of cuts… and I didn't want you to get fired…"

When Mike didn't react he continued, "He understood and will give you some time to get your act back together. He also offered you some time off, but I thought you needed the distraction. Well… anyway… you can call him if you need anything. He also said you could go to Hunter, but well… I doubt you want that." Hunter didn't exactly have a reputation of being supportive or even remotely likable.

Mike was still silent, wrenching his hands. Jake bit his lip and decided to make himself scarce. "Anyway, I hope you're not too angry with me. I'll leave you alone now. If you ever need anything…" He backed off, eyes glued to the silent man in front of him.

When Mike finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper, pain seeping out of it. "Thank you. For calling Vince… and for being there for me last night. I'm sorry I didn't say that last night and for ruining your night out."

"I'm there for you, Mike. I'm serious, anything you need from me…." Yeah, he was pathetic, ready to lie down at his feet and offer him his heart and soul. Mike needed time and space and a friend, not someone who was insanely in love with him. He shook himself out of it. "I know you probably want to be alone, but if you want, you can travel with me and Evan."

"Won't Evan mind?"

Jake cocked his head. That was not the response he had expected. "Of course not. We take in strays all the time. Better you than Cody. Last time they spent 3 hours bickering about which Zelda game is the best." Jake chuckled now and when he met Mike's eyes again he saw a ghost of a smile around the man's lips.

"I'd like that. Being alone isn't the best thing for me right now."

Four weeks later:

When he was 'The Miz' it seemed like everything would work itself out. Every day when he prepared himself for a match, a promo or a media appearance he wrapped himself in the harness of his alter ego, his pain faded to a dull ache and in a way he forgot. For a few minutes a day he could walk around like he owned the place. He could laugh and joke and talk to people and do his job, maybe even better than he had ever done it before.

The future of Raw, Mr. Money in the Bank, WWE next poster child, Miz was it all. The crowd hated him, his Mizfits loved him, Vince praised him, but no one saw him, no one understood, no one cared. The minute the show was over, Mike was in his rental car — alone — on his way to the next city, to the next anonymous motel room for another sleepless night.

Of course there was Jake. More often than not Jake sought him out, invited him to travel with him and Evan, offered him a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on and more often than not Mike refused.

Every time he looked in those gorgeous blue eyes he fell harder and hurt more. Jake pitied him, he knew that. Imagining that it was anything more than that was simply stupid and he would never do anything to disturb the frail friendship they had developed. Because even if it was pity, it was all Mike had, and there were those moments that being alone just wasn't an option. When the grief became too deep and his guilt too much to bear, hanging with Jake and his friends was the only thing that kept him standing.

Like last night, when an entire day of interviews followed by a PPV had drained every last bit of energy from his body. Just like all those weeks ago, Jake had been there when he needed him the most. He had lead him to his locker room, waited for him to shower and change and taken him back to his car. He had even made sure someone — he had no idea who — drove Mike's rental car to the next town.

Sometimes he wished he had the strength to ask Jake why he was doing all this for him, but he didn't think he could cope with an honest answer. Pretending that someone cared about him was better than having his heart shattered even more.

Jake smiled when he noticed Mike in the far end of the corridor. He was talking to John and Randy and his hearty laugh sounded through the corridor. It had been too long since he heard that sound. Maybe Mike was finally doing better. But the moment Randy and John left him, Mike's face fell. He sagged against the wall and rubbed his face. Jake shook his head. It had all been an act again.

Jake made his way towards Mike. Mike appeared to be deep in thoughts and didn't seem to notice him. Jake wondered if he should let him be. When he was about to just walk past him with a quick greet, Mike looked up and met his eyes. Immediately the fake smile came back on his face and the guard came back into his eyes. It was almost like every day he saw Mike he became more skilled in putting his mask on. Most of the time Mike didn't even show up in his eyes, most of the time he only saw Miz. Jake was suddenly sick of it. He thought they were closer than this.

"Mike…" he shook his head. "You don't have to do that for me. Don't pretend, please?"

For a moment Mike's guard went down and the pain seeped out his eyes again. Then he got a grip on himself again. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I gotta go again. I'll see you later, okay?" He darted off, leaving a helpless Jake behind. He bit on his lip, stuffing his fists into his pockets and slumped off towards the mess room. He seemed to do everything wrong.

"Are you okay, kid?" Chris carefully approached Jake who appeared to be deep in thought eating at a table alone.

Jake snapped his head up. He motioned the older man to sit down as he gave him a warm smile. "Yeah… I'm fine… I'm just thinking."

"Anything I can help you with? I hope you're not worried about the rumors of more cuts. There's no way they're gonna drop you." Chris sat down and shoveled some food in his mouth. "It's not that bad. You can stop mutilating it."

Jake looked down on his plate and noticed that he was angrily stabbing his meat. He dropped his fork and pushed his plate away. "It's got nothing to do with work."

"Then it must be love." Chris grinned at him. "Don't look so surprised. It's usually one or the other. No one bothers about politics or the state of the world that much. So, who's the lucky guy?"

Jake threw him a wary look. He didn't exactly hide his sexual orientation, but he wasn't that open about it. He wondered how Chris knew. "It's nothing like that. It's hopeless and stupid and it's not even about what I want, it's about how to help him."

"Okay. Now you're talking in riddles."

"It's… well…" He looked at Chris, unsure if he could trust the older man, but he needed some decent advice and his friends had proved to be useless in this. "It's Mike. Something bad happened to him a while ago and all he is doing is getting more depressed. No matter what I do, it's useless."

"Hmm… maybe you should simply give him time. Show him you care about him, that he is important to you and give him time to heal."

Jake groaned as he raked his hands through his messy hair. "I'm trying that, but all he does is pull away."

"Maybe he thinks you pity him, Jake." Chris gave the younger man a reassuring smile. "I'm telling you this from my own experience; when bad things happen people need to mourn in their own manner, and find a way to get a grip on the world the way it is now. That takes time, usually a lot more time than most people around them can handle. If you really care about him, you should give him that time, but never stop showing that you care. Use your instincts, Jake. I've seen you around the last year and I know they're good. And most importantly, never listen to good advice people give you; it's mostly stupid."

Jake chuckled. "Not even yours?"

"Especially not mine. I'm only the best in the world at what I do…" Chris shook his head at his own stupid joke.

"Thanks Chris… I really appreciate this."

"Anytime kid, anytime." They continued their meal time in a more pleasant manner talking about sports, work and anything else that came to mind.

Jake was laughing and joking around with his friends, looking more at ease and more natural than he ever was around Mike. The brunette couldn't stop looking at him as he worked out side to side with Evan and Zack. He looked amazing. His sweaty shirt clung to his broad chest, biceps swelling as he lifted the weights, a huge grin on his face as his friends tried to distract him from his routine. Mike pushed a few buttons on his treadmill that sped up considerably. He didn't want to think about Jake anymore and most of all he wanted to stop feeling the way he did about him. It was hopeless and pathetic and stupid and really, really insane to even think he would deserve a guy like Jake.

In the past months of trying to get his mind wrapped around everything that happened, he realized he had brought everything on himself. He had been a stupid coward who never dared to tell his parents that he was gay. Which idiot waited until he was thirty to come out anyway? And who did it in a public place? Not to mention, the years spent lying to his friends, the years spend hanging around in bars, being the popular guy and somehow not managing to make a single true friend. Everything had been fake and he had been the biggest fool of them all and now he had to live with the pieces of the shit he created.

He couldn't resist another glance on the blond who was now telling a story with enthusiastic hand gestures between bursts of laughter. Jake didn't need him. He didn't need a pathetic guy to complicate his life. Jake needed people he felt comfortable with, so he sure as hell didn't need Mike. That's why Mike decided he wouldn't bother him anymore. He would toughen up and focus on his career. It was the only thing he had left.

Later that night, he refused to go out with Jake, but got down to the hotel bar half an hour later anyway for the simple reason that he couldn't stand being alone for another second. He couldn't have been more surprised when Randy, who was sitting at the bar with Ted, signaled him over. Mike had no particular liking for the viper or any of his buddies, but rubbing him the wrong way was not smart for someone who was hoping to get his main-event push soon, so he strolled over and offered to buy them another beer.

It seemed to be the right move as the evening went by surprisingly pleasantly. It was quite effortless anyway. He simply went into Miz-mode and said anything he liked. The nastier the remark, the harder Randy and Ted laughed. It was easy not having to think and he was strangely proud of himself when Randy invited him to travel with them. He felt like he had overcome one more of the many obstacles between him and his goal to rule the WWE.

When he stumbled out into the lobby, swinging on his legs but grinning like he hadn't done in months, he bumped — literally — into Jake.

"Had fun I see?" Mike was sure he imagined the hurt in Jake's voice.

"Yeah, I felt like a drink after all." Mike all but snapped back. He didn't get Jake, he really didn't. He should be glad that Mike was getting his own life back, right? That he wouldn't need to babysit him anymore.

"Oh, okay…" That last word trailed away in a sigh and just when he was sure that there now shimmered disappointment in the grey eyes, Jake broke their eye contact. He added, almost reluctantly, while he stared at the floor. "Do you still want to travel with us tomorrow?"

"I'm hitching a ride with Randy and Ted." Mike tried to keep his voice casual and disinterested. Only in that dark corridor in the back of his mind, where he kept all the bad stuff locked up, he admitted that the thing he wanted the most was for Jake to extent that invitation sincerely and not out of duty. Again he was struck by how uncomfortable he seemed to make Jake and again he promised himself to leave the younger man alone from now on.

He was stunned when Jake's head snapped up at his remark and studied him intensely for a few moments. "Randy? Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with that?" Why did he snap like this? Why was the concern in Jake's voice so hard to stomach? Why did Jake have to make him feel like he was doing something wrong?

The blond averted his eyes again when Mike barked at him. "Nothing really…" He stood there shaking his head as if there was more he wanted to say, but in the end he shrugged and walked away.

It was months later and again Jake was staring at the man, now a stranger, that sat on the other side of the bar, slamming shots back with his friends. He had a group of people around around him, but it was a different crowd. Men he never looked at before, guys like Batista, Copeland, Orton, Dibiase, Hunter. Mike hung with the big guys now; guys that thought themselves to be everything and more; guys that didn't give a shit about anyone but themselves. Men like Morrison and Barrett hung around them, doing anything to get noticed.

His friends didn't miss the way that Jake was staring at Mike, all of them wondered about what had caused the change in Mike, with him going from one of the most popular guys on the roster to one of the most hated in just a couple of months. No more jokes, just harsh sarcasm. In the ring he was ruthless, more aggressive than was necessary and it worked. He would be lifted to the main event any time now, already working most main events at the house shows.

Both Zack and Evan hated the look in the eyes of their friend. The love, admiration and even more the pain was clear for all to see. They stared at each other trying to figure out what to say to Jake, to beg him to stop destroying himself. In the end it was Chris, who sat a few stools next to them, who voiced their concern.

He went over to Jake and put his hand on his shoulder. "Give it up, kid. That guy's screwed up bad and the crowd he's hanging with won't help him with that. There's nothing you can do. I can know, I've tried it with Adam years ago, but once Hunter's got his clutches in someone, he's lost."

Jake clenched his fists glaring at the older man he admired so much. "That's not Mike… that's Miz. I can bring him back, I know it."

"Do you think that's Adam? Or that's really Randy? No Jake, you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

Jake wanted to respond, wanted to argue, wanted to convince the other that Mike was different, but no words came out his mouth and after one last reassuring pat on his shoulder, Chris walked away, on his way to his hotel room.

"Stupid fags," Dave spit out when he saw Chris with his hand on Jake's shoulder. "They're a fucking disgrace for the business. I don't get why Vince even allows guys like that around here."

On the inside Mike cringed, on the outside he nodded and laughed just as hard as his friends. In the past he would have stood up to people like Dave, in the past he wouldn't even be near guys like him. But that Mike was gone forever. Too much had happened and he wasn't prepared to throw away the last thing he had. Because the moment any of his new friends found out he was gay, his career would be out the window and he would be back to being a mid-card jobber.

Without it even realizing he had changed into the one thing he never had wanted to be; he had become his father. If he would only taken the time to think, things might be different. But Mike didn't think. The whole reason why he liked being in this group is that it didn't require thinking. And not thinking made it pretty simple to be Miz and keep the doors in his mind locked to tight so all the pain would stay safely inside where it belonged. Even acknowledging the way Jake looked at him and allowing himself to wonder about why the blond looked at him with so much pain in his eyes, would surely bring down some walls, so he ignored him. Instead he drowned himself in alcohol while he mindlessly followed a man he despised.

The six men strutting through the corridor filled the entire space. People they encountered had to move out of the way or be trampled. Mike was by far the smallest of the six, but his attitude made up for it, the vicious glare in his eyes could match that of the viper. They moved in formation, Hunter a little on the front, Orton and Batista by his sides. Nasty comments filled the hallway, smirks thrown to people who hastily jumped out of their ways, until they found two who wouldn't move.

Chris stared at the pack with disdain in his eyes, and the smirk on his lips spoke of nothing but contempt. The younger blond was not quite so sure of himself, but he followed Chris' advice and wrapped himself in his gimmick and acted like this was nothing more than a promo. He was sick of being insulted and treated like dirt.

"Chris."

"Hunter."

The greetings were curt and only barely polite. Snarls were on both lips. Even in the best of times these two didn't get along. Chris tried to push himself past Hunter to get on with his own business, but Dave and Orton immediately closed that way for him, standing shoulder to shoulder with Hunter. Jake glanced at Mike who looked stressed and was biting his lip.

Mike had closed himself off from earlier confrontations, never really participating, but not interfering either. But Jake still touched a chord in him, Jake was the reminder that there once had been another Mike.

"Don't touch me, you faggot," Dave snarled at Chris.

"I'm not gay, Dave. You know that. What I don't get, is why it would concern you if I was. You're hiding something in the closet, Davey?"

"Still full of shit, aren't you Jericho. Always has been and always will be." The low voice of the viper had scared people shitless in the past, but Chris wasn't one to back away easily, not from a man ten years his junior.

"Look who's talking, assclown!"

"You're the fucking assclown. Don't you think we know you're screwing lispy here?"

"Fuck you, Adam," Jake entered the conversation now, fists clenching. He had come too far to put up with bullies like this ever again. It was like freaking high school all over again.

"Fucking sissy." These words hissed by Dave made Jake lose it and he jumped the surprised man, getting a few punches in before Randy and Hunter grabbed his arms, pulling him back and holding him for Dave. Ted and Adam made quick work of Chris, who tried to jump at his friend's aid and fought to get free. Dave had recovered himself and stalked up to Jake, fists already raised, ready to give him the beating of a lifetime.

This left Mike, who looked from one to the other, from his old friends to his new, fists clenching and unclenching, jaw tense, mind reeling. The voice in his head was almost drowned out his own thoughts, the voice of his father 'be a man for once Mike, don't be such a sissy, act like my son, act like I raised you to act.' In his mind he spoke up, a sharp 'no' commanded the voice to shut up.

Dave swung his fist back, but was met with resistance as he wanted to plant it in the fuming blonde's face. He looked confused at the furious brunette behind him, who was grabbing his arm with force.

"Don't Dave. Don't you fucking try."

"Why are you defending him, Mizanin?" Hunter snapped. "The guy's nothing more than a stupid fag. He'll be gone in a year anyway. No brains and no talent."

"The only one I see without brains or talent is Dave here. He keeps his fucking hands off Jake." He twisted the arm until he had it in an arm bar. Just because they didn't really hurt anyone in the ring, didn't mean he didn't know how to do it for real. Dave whimpered and tried to take a swing at Mike, who only stepped behind him and yanked the arm up even more. He would be dead the moment Dave got out off his grip, but at least he would die doing the right thing.

"Don't, Mike. It's not worth it." Jake still struggled against the men that held him in a vice-like grip.

"It is worth it, Jake. I am worth it and you are worth it."

"You're one of them aren't you Mike? You're a sissy… just like lispy here."

"And what if I am Hunter? What if I am gay?"

Hunter made the mistake of loosening his grip on Jake, who immediately yanked his arm free and used it to punch Hunter in the face.

"YOU FUCKING IDIOTS! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?"

Ted immediately let go and took a step back. His career was the least secure of the eight men. A quick elbow in the stomach forced Adam to release Chris as well. Randy and Hunter were still struggling with Jake and Mike didn't dare to release Dave.

"Do I need to call security? Do I need to suspend every one of you? God if I knew that taking this job would mean me having to babysit a group of toddlers I would've said no. LET THE FUCK GO! RANDY, HUNTER, MIKE!"

Hunter and Randy reluctantly stepped back, Hunter was rubbing his jaw where Jake had hit him. The young blond looked like he wanted to plant another one right next to it, but he kept his temper in check, not ready to risk his career. Mike was the last that let go. The moment he did, Dave turned around and planted his fist against Mike's nose. Mike slumped down on the floor, blood already trickling out of his nostrils.

"What? Go ahead Brett, suspend me, fire me… I'm outta here in a month anyway."

Mike blinked his eyes and had no idea where he was. The first sensation was a stinging pain in his face, soft voices spoke around him, but he couldn't quite make out the words. He opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Pain sliced through his head and he groaned, immediately getting the attention of the two men in the room.

"Are you okay, Mike?" Jake carefully pulled Mike into a sitting position.

"My head hurts." He explored his face with his hands. "Is my nose broken?"

"I don't think so. But you better put some ice on it to keep down the swelling."

Chris handed him an ice pack that he eagerly pressed against his throbbing face. "That was a damn good thing you did there, Mizanin."

Mike shrugged and closed his eyes again, leaning against the wall. The pain was almost unbearable and not only the pain in his face. What happened just before had cracked his shields and he was doing all he could to master the pain and to put it back behind his walls.

Mike had been silent for minutes already. The pain and the torture lay open for all to see, his trembling lips, his tightly shut eyes, the tension in his body. Chris realized this had nothing to do with him and he hoped the younger guys would work it out together, so he left, after giving Jake one last reassuring pat in the shoulder.

Jake had been thinking of what to say, of what to do. He didn't want to hurt Mike even more than he was already hurt, but he also didn't want him to lock himself up again. In the end he did the only thing that worked around Mike, he followed his instincts. The large blond knelt down before him and put his hands on Mike's knees. "Mike?"

The brunette opened his eyes to the touch and the soft voice of his friend. Jake stared at him with eyes full of warmth and concern and love. Once this had been the thing he had been looking for, in another life he would've wanted a future with a guy like this, with this guy. But in this life he didn't have a future and he had nothing left to give.

"Don't look at me like that… I can't… I'm not… I'm empty, Jake. Most of the time I feel nothing… and when I do, I wish I didn't."

"You're not empty, Mike. You're broken… I look at you and I see who you are. You need to stop feeling guilty, so you can heal. You'll have scars and you'll never forget what happened. But you can't let it defeat you."

"No Jake, I can't deal with this. You're right, I'm broken. Shattered in a million pieces and with no idea how to mend them."

"Let me help you."

"Why? Why don't you give up? Why can't you just leave me alone?"

"Because I love you."

For a second Mike felt warm at those words he had wanted to hear like nothing else all those months ago. For a moment he was captured by the images of what could be. But then the desperation flooded him again.

"I fucking killed my parents, Jake. I'm a murderer." Mike had shrugged off Jake's hands and stood now, towering over Jake, who still sat on his knees.

These words finally made him lose his patience. A second later he was on his feet, losing all care and for the first time he fully spoke his mind. "I'M SICK OF HEARING YOU SAY THAT! You had a fight, they died. You killed no one. It's not your fault your parents were so fucking narrow-minded. It's not your fault it rained and it's certainly not your fault that your father drove like an idiot. It sucks, but it's not your fault. So shut the fuck up if that's all you have to say!"

Mike just glared at him, ice in his eyes, fists clenched, veins popping and on the verge of jumping Jake. In the end he stormed out of the locker room and back to the hotel, where he collapsed on his bed and started to cry for the first time in months.

10.

His mind was reeling; it was a chaos of words, sentences and feelings. The storm of emotions was so intense that he wasn't able to cage them away. The pain was unbearable, the loneliness deafening. Hours later and he had no more tears left to shed, the hole in his heart was so big it filled his entire chest. The only thing he knew was that he couldn't be alone.

As a zombie he stood up and left his hotel room. He didn't care about his bloodshot eyes, his tear-streaked face, his messed-up hair or his crumbled clothes that were still covered with bloodstains from his nose. The hotel was quiet, but Mike wouldn't have noticed it if there had been people buzzing around. As in a trance he lifted his hand to knock on the door. He saw his hand move against the door; once, twice, trice. And then again once, twice, trice.

Jake had woken from this soft, insistent knocking on his door. It had taken him a while before he realized what the sound meant, but finally he sat up in his bed and stumbled sleep-drunken to the door. When he peeked through the door he had to rub his eyes to make sure they were really open. Mike leant against the door post. To say he looked terrible was an understatement. Even as Jake opened the door he again raised his hand to knock, not quite registering that the door was open.

"Mike?" Jake cocked his head and stared at his friend. It looked like Mike didn't even hear him. He looked up, but stared right through Jake. Only when Jake cupped his face Mike's eyes focused on the blond, a small smile cracking through, and immediately fell again.

"I… I… I can't be alone anymore."

"You don't have to. You never had to… I'm here. I was here the whole time."

Mike closed his eyes. His face was consorted in pain, lips trembling, body drooping. He would've collapsed onto the floor if Jake hadn't pulled him in his arms and carried him into his room. Carefully he put the shaking man on his bed, who curled into a little ball the moment he was put down. Jake stared down on him, unsure of what to do, of how to help him. Seeing the man he loved under this kind of torture made him cold to the bones.

"It hurts… it hurts too fucking much…"

"I know, Mike… I know…"

"I used to be happy, right? There used to be a different life, a different me?"

Jake only nodded, not wanting to break his train of thought.

"Sometimes I think that if I could only remember that properly, remember how it was to feel something else than guilt and pain and shame… but I can't. It feels like I'm trying to remember something out of a dream. I don't remember, Jay. I don't..."

Jake sighed and knelt before the bed, locking eyes with the brunette.

"I do, Mike. I remember. I look at you and see that man shimmering through, fighting to get out. I used to watch you all the time. Everywhere you were, you stood out. You were the middle of every crowd, the one person everyone wanted to be around. Everything you focused your attention on became so important, like you made it glow. And everything had your attention. I tried to get you to see me, I felt like a puppy begging for attention, ready to lie down on my back and let you rub my belly."

And Mike remembered. He saw the busy clubs, the people dancing around him, the people trying to get his attention, the crowd laughing at his jokes, the tall blond always somewhere on the side, never quite meeting his eyes, never quite blending in, never really responding when Mike approached him.

"I saw you Jake… of course I saw you. I was drawn to you, but you never let me close, never let me in."

"I was shy… too shy to say a word to you… too shy and too fucking insecure. I was so nervous around you, I was crushing so hard that it made me dizzy just to talk to you."

"If only you had… you could've been my rock."

"I can still be that, Mike. I can be everything you need me to be."

"It's too late, Jake. I'm not that guy anymore." Mike's voice was trembling again and he rolled into a tighter ball.

Jake started to interrupt him, but Mike shook his head.

"Lemme finish, Jake. I've changed… changed so deep inside that I don't even know who I am anymore. This will always haunt me. I'm not me anymore… you'd better walk away and leave me to deal with the mess. I'm not gonna pull you along with me."

"Then why are you here? Why did you come here telling me you can't be alone anymore? You need me, Mike… you need me like I need you." He grabbed Mike's hand and for a few seconds Mike clasped it, then he pulled his hand away again uttered a deep sigh.

"You're right. In one way or another you're always right. I shouldn't have come… you only think you need me Jake, you think you love me, you think you can heal me. But you can't fix something that is irrevocably broken. And you shouldn't even try, you should throw me away and look for a replacement. You don't know the darkness inside me, you don't see how I'm groping after the pieces that used to be me, trying to find enough to keep standing."

"Then what do you want from me?" Jake forced his voice to stay calm, even though he would rather shake Mike until he was talking sense again.

"What I want? This has nothing to do with what I want, Jake. It's about what's good for you. The one thing that's not good for you is me. You need to find someone better… someone whole… someone with something left to give."

"You have no right to tell me what I want. I know what's good for me!" Jake snapped, before continuing quietly, "And you might hate yourself right now, you might feel like nothing more than crap. You might feel worthless and broken and like you don't deserve to live. No, you're not who you used to be and you might never be like that again. But underneath all that pain, underneath all the self-loathing there's still the man I love. I'm not looking ahead. I'm not talking about the future, I'm not that fucking naive. So I ask you one more time, what do you want? What do you want right now?"

Mike sighed, too tired to fight, too exhausted to keep pushing him away, so he gave up. "What I want right now? I'm so tired. You won't believe how tired I am. I wanna sleep. I wanna sleep and I wanna feel safe. Can you hold me, please? Jake, can you do that for me? Hold me so I can sleep?"

A warm smile formed on the blonde's face as he nodded. Half an hour later they were fast asleep. Mike was cuddled up in Jake's arms, his back against the bigger man's chest, fingers woven together, Jake's head resting on Mike's.

It was only a tiny step, a tiny step with hundreds more to go. But it was a step and the next one might be bigger.

*sighs* just lemme know ok? Even if you hated it... especially if you hated it. It might teach me to go easy on the drama :)

BTW it's a one-shot and it will stay that way. So story alert is kinda useless. As usual author alerts are appreciated as are favs but the most appreciated are reviews, most of all reviews that give pointers and tell me what exactly you liked, or hated, or thought was stupid or... well, you get the point.