NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Part of my eventual long work featuring the Wyatts, Jay/Christian, and others. I think its a good example of the use of flashbacks and dialog. The full story will be called Angel In The Dirt, with Jay as my main character. Themes, places, etc. listed in this ficlet are borrowed from theytalktome's Luke/Jay one shot series with permission. Book cover is Return to SD by nerii5693 on Deviant-art.

Concrit and suggestions are welcome, but no flames please.

FYI, I have a Photobucket account with pictures that describe events, places, objects, people, etc., that will be featured in this larger work.

Angel In The Works

Jay sighed and pried his eyes open. Dammit. Middle of the night and he was suddenly wide awake. It didn't happen often, but when it did, Jay ended up cranky and irritable in the morning because he couldn't get back to sleep.Well, since I'm awake, he thought in slight annoyance, I might as well get up. Maybe if I went outside for a walk, I'll feel a little better.

He glanced over at his lover, who lay on his side, completely down for the count. Luke looked too peaceful to wake up, so Jay climbed out of bed, wincing slightly. The fact that Luke had driven a truck before joining the Wyatts wasn't the only reason why he had the nickname of Big Rig, and Jay chuckled to himself at the thought.

After throwing on some underwear, some pants, a shirt and his shoes, Jay dashed off a quick note for Luke before grabbing his card key and heading out of the room.

The lobby was quiet this time of night, and Jay made his way outside rather quickly. The street he was on was remarkably quiet this time of night; Jay half expected it to be jumping with excitement and activity, especially with it being the middle of travel season. No matter. Jay actually appreciated the peace and quiet. It gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts.

These days, suicide was the last thing on Jay's mind. It was a selfish act and an unforgivable sin, and whenever Jay thought of how close he'd come to taking his own life, he shuddered. His life was too valuable to literally throw it out a window. Thank God (and Sister Abigail) for bringing the Wyatts into his life when he needed them the most, though he'd been kicking and screaming when he first encountered them.

Jay glanced around and noticed that he'd walked much further than he'd intended. He chuckled and shook his head as he stopped to rest. How'd I wind up on the banks of the Mississippi? he wondered silently, sitting down on a metal bench that looked out over the water. I need to pay more attention to where I'm going!

It was so quiet and peaceful. The New Orleans skyline twinkled like gemstones set against black velvet. A cool breeze ruffled through Jay's hair. To Jay's right was the Crescent City Connection bridge that arched across the river, connecting US Hwy 90 from the central business district to the residential parts of the city. No boats were out on the water, and the only sound Jay could hear was the flowing of the river. So peaceful, Jay thought, crossing his feet and stretching his wiry frame so as to make himself more comfortable.

He didn't know how long he sat there taking in the scenery, but a nagging voice in his mind told him that he needed to get back soon. Jay yawned, his eyes squeezing into slits, before he climbed off the bench and began his trek back to the hotel.

As Jay headed back the way he came, he was suddenly aware of a roaring sound that reminded him of the surf back in Florida. There was no possible way that the surf was up, perhaps a boat was on it's way down the river? Curiosity got the better of Jay, and he turned around to look.

He suddenly wished that he hadn't.

The sound he heard was the roar of a giant rogue wave. It rumbled and rushed at Jay, a moving wall of white-capped water.

Panic slammed through Jay, and every nerve in his body screamed RUN! He turned back and tore down the street, his heart racing, and his pulse pounding as he attempted to flee.

Faster...FASTER! Jay was running as fast as he'd ever run, but the wall of water continued to pursue him. Suddenly, he got tangled up in his own feet, and he crashed to the pavement in an unceremonious heap. Frantic, he tried to stumble to his feet, but they wouldn't cooperate.

Gasping for breath, Jay glanced up and felt his heart sink to his stomach. The wave was right on top of him.

The mountain of water crashed over Jay, so cold that it felt like a thousand knives were being driven into his body. The sheer weight and magnitude of the water forced what was left of the air out of his lungs. Pain and panic set in as Jay struggled to breathe, to pull some precious air into his lungs, but all that surrounded him was water. A cold rush slammed through Jay like a skewer and his body began to shut down...

...And Jay sat up in bed, gasping for breath, his heart racing. The nightmare felt so vivid and intense that he could almost feel the cold water on his skin. He wrapped the blankets around his body and willed his heartbeat and pulse to slow down. Thank God that was only a dream, he thought, raking his fingers through his sleep and sex rumpled hair.

By force of habit, Jay glanced over to the other side of the bed. His heart sank when he found it empty. Then he remembered the conversation he and Luke had the night before and he shook his head at his forgetfulness. "You're losing your mind in your old age, Jay," he thought out loud, glancing over to the nightstand. There was a piece of paper with Jay's name sitting there, waiting to be read:

Jay -

Didn't want to wake you up. We're heading to the Smackdown taping. Bray's sent someone to fetch you to take you home. They should be here around eight. Have a safe trip.

Love, Luke.

Jay set the note down and lay back down on the bed. A year ago, home would have been a perfect house in Florida with years worth of memorabilia and his cats. No outside job, no family, no friends to catch up with, no other interests. Just him, his cats, and an excruciating depression that would have killed him had nobody intervened.

Nobody understood his attachment to the Wyatts, and it was likely that nobody ever would. He'd heard the whispers and snide remarks backstage: Can you believe it? Jay Reso and Luke Harper are an item! What does Jay see in that overgrown freak? Well, maybe it's not outside the realm of possibility. After all, Reso's mental state's been suspect for years. If you have more than two cats, you're a little touched in the head. That's what they say anyway. And the only reason he got a job here is because his best friend got him a tryout.

Jay felt his heart ache slightly as he recalled the last conversation he'd had with Adam, his former best friend and brother from another mother. He was at the Hall of Fame ceremony to induct Lita, another longtime (and now former) friend. After the festivities, Adam and Jay went to a coffee shop near the hotel they were staying at to catch up on old times. It was then that Jay finally laid things on the line with his longtime friend.

While Adam's career zoomed, Jay's had stagnated, and it was that fact that gradually pulled them apart. It was only when the Wyatts had taken him that he finally faced-unwillingly at first-his jealousy and anger and depression. Of course Bray's methods had been unorthodox, but he did more in the course of a few weeks to fix Jay than months or years of therapy ever could.

Adam, of course, didn't understand, and deep down Jay knew that he wouldn't...

(FLASHBACK)

"What the hell are you thinking, Jay? You've sold your house, you re-homed all of your cats—you're giving up twenty years in this business just so you can join a cult?!"

"It's not a cult!" Jay tried to explain, leaning up against the rental car. "It's my home. For the first time in years, I actually have a home, and people who love me. You and Chris, Dreamer, Styles, everyone...they all get to come home to a family, or a business, or friends, or other projects. You know what I came home to when I got off the road? An empty suitcase and my cats. That's what!

"I spent the better part of my two decades in this business giving and giving and giving. I busted my ass for Vince McMahon and everyone else in this industry. I did everything I could to try and prove to everyone who seemed to care that I was worthy of their attention. And I spent that time being everyone's friend, caretaker, rock, compass, counselor, whatever the hell anyone needed me to be, I was. And what did I get in return? NOTHING! I had nothing left to give myself, let alone all of you."

Jay paused, and his voice softened. "The Wyatts, they...they gave me a purpose. They gave me direction. They gave me love. Luke especially. He's got the patience of a saint. And he nursed me back to health and sanity when I needed it the most."

"HARPER?" Adam looked at his longtime friend like he'd just spoken in Arabic. "That overgrown, hairy-faced freak? What'd he do to you? What did he and Bray and Erick do to you?"

"That overgrown, hairy-faced freak is someone I love very, very much!" Jay fired back, angrily. "And if you must know, Bray and Luke and Erick loved me enough to take control and keep me from making the biggest mistake of my life."

"Biggest mistake? The biggest mistake you made was not pressing kidnapping charges against Bray Wyatt and his band of kooks!"

Jay smacked the hood of the rental. "NO! My biggest mistake was wanting to kill myself!"

The words dropped between Jay and Adam like bricks. Two sentences. Nine words. It was enough to change everything.

"Kill yourself? That's preposterous, why would you want to go and do a dumb thing like that?!" Adam exclaimed, in shock. "That's got to be a sick joke! You couldn't possibly want to do that! You can't be serious..." Adam's voice trailed off when he saw the somber look on his longtime friend's face. A cold numbness spread through his body. "No...no, don't tell me you were even thinking about that!" Adam whispered, pacing back and forth. "You've always been the stable one, why would you even think of offing yourself?"

Jay shrugged, sarcastically. "I don't know. Maybe the years of being called ugly, irrelevant, worthless, and unimportant finally caught up to me."

Adam gently placed his hands on Jay's shoulders. His voice was soft and full of disbelief. "Jay...my god, you're none of those things-"

"Tell that to Vince McMahon and upper management and the rest of Vince's Bullying Funsters!" Jay exclaimed, shrugging away from his best friend's grasp. "I'm not gonna go into details, but long story short, I was planning to jump out of my hotel window in Baltimore. July of last year. Then Jericho invited me to breakfast, and I went. I had a good time, and later I decided to lace my boots up one last time and give the fans one more match. One last happy memory because I wanted the fans to remember me for something good. Afterwards, Bray found me...you can figure out the rest."

Adam shook his head as he paced the length of the rental car. The very idea that Jay, his friend for nearly three decades, the man he loved like a brother, was hurting so much that he'd wanted to die was almost impossible to get his head around. "Jay...God! Jay I didn't know," Adam gasped, his voice cracking with emotion. "Why didn't you say anything? You could have talked to a therapist, or gone to Vince-"

"Vince McMahon never gave a fuck about me!" snarled Jay. "He wouldn't have helped me. He probably would have shoved me out the window himself. If I'd offed myself, he'd put out some insincere press release and move on like I never existed! Don't take this the wrong way, Addy, but the only reason why I was treated half decent here was because of you. I owe you so much, Addy, and I'll always appreciate that. But once you retired, everything went downhill." Jay wrapped his arms around himself and stared down at the pavement. His voice was thick with emotion as well. "Nobody-nobody backstage, nobody in management, no agents, no friends, nobody!-was brave enough to stick up for me. I was at the mercy of Vince McMahon, and it tore me apart."

Adam sat on the hood of the rental next to his longtime friend, completely devastated by the confessions he was hearing. "I'm...I'm so sorry-"

"You don't need to apologize for anything. No sense in apologizing after the fact either, Addy. What's done is done. You and Chris and Dreamer and all of them, you have your own lives now. And I have my own now as well, odd as it may be."

"Life? You call what you're doing now life?" Adam knew deep down that he had to tread delicately over this next topic, and he chose his words carefully. "Jay...Luke and Bray and Erick...there's no easy way to say this, but they're criminals. You have to press charges against them. What they did to you was against the law! They kidnapped you. They held you hostage and brainwashed you. You know that, I know that, everyone around you knows that too, though they don't say anything. The Wyatts kept you prisoner for three months. Just because Luke tucked you into bed a few times doesn't mean he that he loves you!"

He continued, unaware of the venomous look Jay had just given him. "Jay, everyone sees the Wyatts for what they really are, and here you are, like some lovesick little puppy falling all over yourself to protect them. It's not love, it's not loyalty, and it's not life, it's Stockholm Syndrome! They brainwashed you! There's no other way to describe it!"

"It's not Stockholm Syndrome, and they didn't brainwash me! The Wyatts saved my life!" Jay spat in fury. Why couldn't anyone (Adam especially) understand that what the Wyatts did to him was done out of love? "And Luke took care of me every step of the way, when I was at my lowest and most broken, he helped heal me! He bathed me, he dressed me, he made sure I ate, he held me at night when I cried, which wasn't very often, and he held me, even when I didn't cry. And more importantly, he made sure I knew I was loved. He protected me, he loved me, and he still loves me!" Jay paused, and his expression grew wistful. "And I love him. For the first time in years, I'm actually happy. I have a purpose, I have a life, I have people in my life who genuinely care about me. I thought you'd be happy for me, or at least try to support me and understand. Out of everyone in my life, Addy, I thought you'd be the one."

Adam shook his head, his voice honest. "I can't support this, Jay. I'm sorry. The man sitting next to me is Jay, but it's not Jay. The man sitting with me looks like you, he talks like you, all his mannerisms are the same, but he's not you. We've been friends, almost brothers, for the past three decades, I thought I knew everything about you, but now...you've changed so much, inside and out, that I...I don't know you anymore."

"Maybe you never knew me at all," Jay said, simply. He paused, his heart aching. What he was about to say would be the hardest words he'd ever have to utter. "Addy, you're my brother from another mother, and you'll always have a place in my heart. But if you aren't willing to support me, or at least try... then I'm afraid we can't be friends anymore."

Adam felt like he'd just been hit with a board. His voice got stuck in his throat, and he was barely able to choke out, "Jay..."

Before Adam could say anything more, Jay reached up and cupped his face. "I love you, Addy," he said, kissing Adam gently on the cheek, and then on the lips. Jay's voice was husky and Adam could hear the tears in his voice. "That'll never change. But it's over." He paused, and then he ran the tips of his fingers gently across the cheek of his best friend. "I want you to turn around and count to one hundred."

"Count to one hundred? Why?"

One sentence. Nine words. Enough to end everything:

"I don't want you to see me walk away..."

NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Abrupt end, I know, but like I said, it's part of a longer work. BTW, I'm really liking the idea of the Wyatts going after Cena. Bray's supposed to be a heel, but I really dig him and the promos he's doing. Raise your hand if you want to see the Wyatt's completely demolish Cena (the boring, homogenized WWE character, not the real life guy).

And speaking of Wyatt vs Cena, this feud may change the plot for this work. Any suggestions can be left in your review, or sent via private message.

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