Some real names will be kept, some won't. Just saying. It's just what I feel natural with, cause I just got used to writing 'Jack' as 'Jake'. My mind can't make itself up on people like Christian, I jump around on him. For example, I'm trying to keep it so Edge is 'Adam' when he's just being himself, but when he gets all mature and serious he's 'Edge' again.

It's confusing, you must forgive me. Blame them for not using their real names!

Also, if you have any questions about the plot, the way I'm writing…if you confused, mail me. I check my e-mail every weekend, I will answer any questions you have about this fic or any other fic of mine. I want everyone to have a good read,, and I know sometimes I don't write everything as clearly as I should.


Turns out, Night of Champions went off with only one hitch. A big hitch. The hitch.

"You!" Punk roared at Jeff, finding the Enigma walking down the hall with the Heavyweight belt over his shoulder "Hardy, give it back!"

"If you hadn't noticed, C-U-M, I won it" Jeff taunted, grabbing the belt by the strap and wiggling it in front of the fuming ravenette.

"You cheated out there and you know it!" Punk barked, snatching at the gold and missing "That's my belt, Hardy, and I want it back! This instant!"

"Stop being such a sore loser" Jeff scoffed, pulling his new belt back and away from the man "We had our match, I won…you lost. Get over it."

Punk huffed loudly, "You have no idea what it means to be a champion! I deserve that belt."

"And I don't?" Jeff shot back, getting angry as well "I've put my body on the line time and time again for this industry, and I deserve a little respect! A little proof that I'm one of the top-dogs."

"Being an idiot doesn't make you a hero" Punk got in his face, jabbing him in the chest with his finger "And it sure as fuck doesn't give you a right to steal my championship. Now give me the belt, or so help you God, I'll-"

"What? Huh, what?!" Jeff shoved him "Do something, C-U-M! I dare you!"

With matching snarls, they lunged at each other. Hair was pulled, punches were thrown, and they soon fell into a tangled heap on the floor. Jeff cried out when the younger man's elbow dug into his ribs sharply, so he lashed out on pure instinct. Punk jerked away, but not soon enough to prevent blood-colored nails from raking down his face.

Matt found them first, rushing forward and grabbing his brother around the neck with his arm, "That's enough now, Jeffrey!"

"He started it!" Jeff shouted, thrashing a bit as his brother dragged him away.

Mark had been following the darker Hardy, observing the scene for only a moment before his features hardened. He closed the distance in a few long strides, reaching down and grabbing his precious pet by the back of the neck. He yanked Phil to his feet, the young ravenette glaring fiercely at the Hardy and trying to get at him again. Mark wasn't surprised to see four crimson scratches staining his pet's face, blood close to the surface but the skin was merely scathed…not split.

Undertaker didn't take too kindly to see his boy's blood.

"Boys" Mark growled "That…is…enough."

Both wilted at the rough tone, dropping to their knees in near-unison. They slipped back into their sub-roles, shedding their in-ring personas like old cloaks. That was how it worked when you were both a sub and a wrestler. Once you were backstage, you obeyed your master.

Mark used his grip on Punk's neck to tilt his head back, tracing the dark red scratches with his long fingers. Phil had the decency to look ashamed of himself, dropping his eyes away.

"Matthew" Mark cast one of his youngest a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry, Master 'Taker, he'll be punished" Matt stated seriously, wincing at the marks Jeff had left on his leader's sub.

Mark brought Phil to his feet, leading his boy out of there with a look that said the boy would be getting a lecture later on as well.

Matt gathered his brother into his arms, shoving his title belt into his hands, "What were you thinkin', Jeffy? Attackin' Phil of all people like that?"

"He said stuff" Jeff growled, realizing how childish he sounded "Mean stuff. He riled me up like that on purpose! He was gonna take my belt."

Jeff hugged the gold to his chest, knowing he truly did deserve it.

"Of course he said horrible things, you guys just had an intense headline match" Matt rolled his eyes "But ya know you gotta learn 'ta control that temper, darlin'. Next time-"

"What's wrong, Matty?" came a greasy, low purr "Can't control the Rainbow Delight?"

Both Hardys turned, searching for the source of the voice. They found it in the form of Raven, over there by the wall and leaning against it. He was watching the scene with a smirk, something wicked shining in his eyes.

"Levy" Matt growled, keeping his brother tight in his arms "Don' know why you bother to bring yer has-been ass around here, no one wants to see you. You're TNA trash now…or did you forget?"

"Now Jeff, aren't you going to defend me?" Raven pulled a faux-hurt look "After all…we were TNA trash together."

Jeff scoffed, "Jackass."

"Aw, Enigma, don't be that way" Raven pushed off the wall, taking a step closer.

Matt pointedly started to lead his brother way, shooting the man a nasty look, "Back off, Levy. I'm in no mood for you."

"Probably, but I bet Jeff is."

Jeff glanced down at the tent in the man's pants, "You're a pig."

"And you are just made to pass around like a sweet little whore" Raven crooned.

Matt was about to lunge, but merely smirked when he saw two figures approach behind the blonde. Raven turned, scowling when he saw them as well.

"You're not causing trouble, are you Levy?" Edge inquired smugly, using his height to tower down on the shorter wrestler.

"We wouldn't wanna have to kick your ass" Jericho swung an arm around the older man's shoulders, his smile strained and his voice deadly "You know…again."

Raven threw the other's arm off his shoulders, giving Edge a distasteful look, "I'm only saying what everyone's thinking."

Matt left his brother's side, getting up in Raven's face and nearly burning him with his smoldering gaze, "And that's all you'll ever do, Levy…think. You'll never lay a hand on my brother. You'll never…ever, get the chance to act your sick little fantasies."

Raven sucked in a soft breath, leaning in just briefly, "…that's what you think."

The older man made his leave, leaving a rather confused Hardy behind.

Jeff didn't think a thing of it, trusting his big brother to protect him. He always had, and he always would. Never would that bastard Raven get a chance to touch him, not with the protection of the Court around him. No one man could ever penetrate their defenses.

So Jeff indulged himself in petting his belt, not ever once thinking…

just maybe

xXxXxXx

A Month Later

Cody woke up with a jerk, groaning in pain before rolling out of bed. He scrambled out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom in time. He all but fell onto the toilet, stomach emptying itself into the bowl. His throat burned raw as the stomach acid forced itself out, everything he'd eaten in the past few hours leaving his body nutrition-less.

Randy woke up to the sound of his pet in distress, getting a brief glimpse of him staggering out the door. He flung back the covers, a frown of concern on his face as he slid on a pair of boxers. He hurried after his pet, finding him slumped over the toilet in the bathroom. The poor thing, the sight hurt his heart. Cody's ears were pinned back, tail lying limp on the tile.

He hadn't seen Cody so vulnerable in so long. His pet had built up muscle over the past years, growing stronger and more bold. But these last three months, Cody had been getting sick early in the mornings. He picked at his food like a bird, he had trouble sleeping some nights, and sometimes he'd get nauseas at the oddest hours of the day.

Randy got a glass of water and set it beside the toilet, grabbing a towel next and wetting the corner with cold as well. He dropped down on the other side of his pet, observing the sad sight.

Once it was all just dry heaves, Cody pulled away from the bowl and flushed.

"You need to see a doctor" Randy stated.

"What doctor would see me?" Cody rasped, tail flicking pointedly.

" 'Taker's working on that" Randy sighed, grabbing the glass of water and holding it to his boy's lips "Sip."

Cody obeyed, rinsing out his mouth. The water soon soothed his raw throat, slowly relaxing. He was enveloped in his master's tattooed arms, a cool towel gently wiping his lips and the sweat from his face.

"My sweet Coddles" Randy brushed his cheek over his boy's dark hair, glad to hear him sigh and feel him melt into his touch "I'm sorry you're sick. Do you remember eating anything that could do this to you?"

Cody thought hard, "No."

Randy couldn't think of what else this would be. He curled his arm around his pet's waist, smiling when he felt the thickening muscle there. His boy was working so hard to keep his body in fit condition, always wanting to keep up with him and to handle himself expertly in the ring.

This sickness had weakened him, and Cody hated this. He couldn't do much in the ring to help Randy feeling like this, not sure when he could flip someone over the ring or even pull them down below the bottom rope. This was torture.

Cody let his master carry him back into their bedroom, hoping to get some rest now.


Sorry about the short chapter, everything I had written out was the next chapter and all THAT went together. This was kind of two odd scenes out, but Raven and Cody could not be denied.