Author: pandora1017
Rating: PG-13
Content: Language
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these guys. If I did, they'd never have had to be vampires. Except maybe Gangrel. Of course, if I owned him, he'd never have gotten anywhere near Edge, Christian, or the Hardys to begin with. He actually would probably be locked in a little tiny box and only let out to be beaten with a bamboo stick. Or, even better, remember the part with Hitler in Little Nicky? That was a good movie. But I digress.
Comments: This is kinda an answer to a unofficial challenge to make Gangrel a 'badass meanie.' I think the only reason I can attempt this is because I didn't watch wrestling when he was a major player. Was he ever a major player? Do you get the idea that I don't like Gangrel? He's almost as bad as Shane-O... [Joking, Amanda. No one can be as bad a Shane-O. ;)]
.
"Look, Edge, I don't trust him and neither should you. He's an psychopathic gearbox who thinks he's a vampire and seems to have gotten you to think the same thing. You do realize that that's koolaid he's holding in that chalice, right? Look at me, I won the light-heavyweight title without him. What has he gotten us? We don't need him. Let's ditch him before it gets too late and go it alone."
Well, that was easy. I smiled. And my reflection agreed with me. Of course, saying that to my headstrong big brother would be near impossible. The mirror was a good listener, but Edge wouldn't agree that readily. Gangrel had somehow managed to sucker... uh, I mean, charm him into being friends with him, and he practically worshipped the ground 'Grel walked on. That blew my mind. Gangrel wasn't exactly the most charming person around. How had he convinced Edge to let him mentor him? If I had been there when Edge met 'Grel, we would have laughed our asses off and walked away.
"Who are you talking to, child?"
And that. That goth-talk shit. Goddammit, Edge, if you weren't my brother I'd kill you for making me deal with this bloated asshole. I looked at his reflection in the mirror as he entered the locker room bathroom, randomly recalling some memory about vampires not having reflections. I repressed a snort.
"No one."
"But you were speaking."
"Not to you," I informed him flippantly.
Gangrel's eyes lowered to slits as he glared at me. "You're lucky your brother values you as he does, otherwise I would have gotten rid of you long ago."
"You and what army?" I muttered under my breath as he turned to leave.
I turned away from him at the same time and twisted a knob on the sink to run the hot water. Before I got a chance to use it, though, a strong force slammed me up against the wall next to the sink as a hand simultaneously gripped my throat. Gangrel was much closer to me than I cared for him to be, but my primary concern at the moment was getting air into my lungs. I clawed at his wrist, trying to make him let me go, as he growled, "Don't try me, boy, I will win."
And just like that, he dropped me and left. I sank to the floor, wheezing and massaging the grip marks on my throat. I hated it when he did that.
"Hey, 'Grel," I heard my brother purr from the locker room in that weird voice he used around Gangrel. I waited in vain for him to switch back to normal and call 'Grel a 'dork chop.' That was not going to happen. "What was that noise?"
"I think your brother slipped," Gangrel answered. I could almost hear him smirking. Scowling, I got to my feet. Edge would be in here in a minute and I didn't want him to find me on my ass.
"Christian?" he called as he stepped through the doorway. That was another thing. When was the last time he called me Chris? He used to all the time... Granted, I hated it when he did call me that, but right now I wouldn't have minded in the least.
"Yeah?" I asked as I brushed myself off. Edge smirked slightly when he saw me.
"You all right?"
"Yeah, don't ask," I muttered, turning off the water. I figured it might be hard to convince Edge to join me and ditch Gangrel if he knew 'Grel was beating the hell out of me every other day. And fighting back wasn't an option either, that would make Edge align further with him and possibly push me right out of the picture. Well, physically fighting back wasn't an option yet, at least. There were other ways of fighting back. "What are we doing tonight?"
"'Grel and I are fighting the New Age Outlaws."
"You and Gangrel?" I asked, raising a brow.
"Yes," Edge said, curiously. "Why?"
"Nothing," I muttered, repressing angry commentary. I found myself doing that a lot anymore. I was afraid I'd say something that would drive Edge right to Gangrel if I went off on a tirade. Another thing Edge seemed to miss - I'd changed from the outspoken brother he'd known for twenty five years into a mute recently. No questions asked. So here he was, challenging the tag team champions with... Gangrel? What the hell happened to brotherhood? Don't press it, Christian, Edge won't stand a chance with 'Grel in his corner anyway. What a wasted title-shot. "I meant after the match."
"Oh, I don't know. Go out with 'Grel, I guess."
"Again?"
"Yes, aga-... What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking maybe we could change it up sometimes. Why don't we try to hang out with some other people? What about those new kids... what're their names... Matt and Jeff?"
"You said it yourself, Christian. They're new kids," he scoffed. "'Grel is experienced, he knows what he's talking about. We can learn a lot from him."
"Experienced? When was the last time he held a title?"
"Well, it's not -"
"You've held more titles than he has. I've held more titles than he has. Hell, those Hardys have held more titles than he has. And we're all at one a piece."
"That doesn't matter, he's been here for -"
"Edge, it doesn't matter how long he's been here. We're not going to get anywhere by doing old shit. We have to make our own mark, do things our way. Not his."
"You don't like how I do things?" I cringed, annoyed, as Gangrel stepped up behind Edge.
"This was a private conversation," I said, matter-of-factly.
"About me, yes, so I'm intervening. Come, Edge, it's time for our match."
Edge watched 'Grel and my battle of words blankly, reminding me of a confused child and renewing my desire to get him away from Gangrel as soon as possible. When Gangrel beckoned, Edge first followed, but hesitated and turned back to me. "You coming, Christian?"
"You want me to?" I asked, surprised.
"Of course."
I cast a glance to Gangrel, who was rolling his eyes as Edge showed one of his less and less frequent displays of human emotion. The fact that Gangrel didn't want me there sealed my decision and I followed Edge. He grinned at me and clapped me on the back as I caught up to those two. Obviously, as I had expected, nothing I had just said had phased him. 'Grel, on the other hand, glowered at me while Edge wasn't looking. And we made our way to the ring.
-
That was intentional and I knew it. Fucking 'Grel "attempted a baseball slide" on Road Dogg, but Road Dogg - who was neither woozy nor distracted - was fully capable of stepping out of the way to leave me open to Gangrel's boot sandwich. Fuck, I was surprised I still had all my teeth in place. Not only that, but while 'Grel was pretending to see how I was doing - he was actually just smirking at me - Mr. Takes It Up The Ass hit the Fame-Ass-Er on Edge and pinned him.
And that was that. 'Grel took the loss pretty well. He wasn't that bothered by yet another title slipping through his hands. Maybe he was jaded to losses. Or maybe he was more intent on kicking me in the face than winning the match. Edge, however, was dragging. He rolled out of the ring after a minute, found me on the ground, and we supported each other back in silence. Silence and straight face typical of me - not quite him. Edge tended to smile alot. Not the nice, fun smile he used to wear, but a freaky, psychotic looking cross between a smirk and a grin. But even that was lacking now. I think he was tired of losing. We parted the curtains and stumbled backstage. Once we were backstage, 'Grel took off abruptly towards the locker room. Making certain no one was around, I tried to talk to my brother again. "Look, Edge -"
"Can it wait, Christian?" he sighed. "I need to go apologize to 'Grel for losing."
With that, he pushed off me and started to follow that backstabbing son of a bitch to the locker room. I gritted my teeth and clenched my fists as I watched him go, bottling up an earsplitting scream and list of explicitives. As if to break my mood, I heard laughter behind me. Of course, it wasn't to break my mood - it was to fuel it. I turned and found Billy Gunn, Road Dogg, X-Pac, and Triple H watching me.
"Got somethin' t'say?" Road Dogg smirked, mocking my silence. Now was not the time to singlehandedly attack a group of four, I realized after I silently dove at Road Dogg. It almost seemed like slow motion, watching Billy, X-Pac, and Triple H join in the fight. It took at least seven officials to break up the impromptu match. As the officials scraped me off the ground, I tried to figure out why I had attacked them. Frustration, I decided, jerking myself from the caring grip of the refs only to stumble with weak steps. I was getting really fucking frustrated with Gangrel. I didn't know how much longer I could let this shit go on.