Things were getting out of hand anymore. First, Gangrel had been attacking me. Fine, whatever. I could tolerate that. But Edge, who looked up to him so much... that was crossing the line. I wanted to tear him a new asshole for every time he laid a hand on my brother. But no. Edge wouldn't have any of it. He was convinced that he deserved to see stars whenever 'Grel got a little frustrated. After all, it was always his fault, wasn't it? And the neurotic little reekazoid never really seemed to react to 'Grel unmercifully beating his little brother. Weren't older brothers supposed to be protective?
"Christian?" a hesitant voice asked. I turned, still fuming and accidentally gave a death glare to the younger Hardy kid, Jeff. Instead of responding vocally, afraid that I might bite his head off for no reason, I gave him a look that indicated for him to continue. He cleared his throat. "Ah was, um, wonderin' if... if y'... Ah, uh..."
"What?"
Jeff blinked at me and I realized that might have been the first time he's ever heard me speak. He continued on, quickly. "Ah was wonderin' about Gangrel. Is he a good... uh, a good..."
"Good for nothing?" I growled. "Yes."
"Jeff!"
We both looked up at Doc Hendrix, who was gesturing, annoyed, for Jeff to stop talking to me and to follow him. Jeff bit his bottom lip, turned back to me, nodded, and smiled weakly. "Thanks."
I crossed my arms over my chest once more and watched him go. He lowered his head and walked silently behind Doc Hendrix, reminding me slightly of 'Grel and myself. I felt a twinge of sympathy for him that was rather short lived, then turned back to the match. Edge and 'Grel finally had the upper hand. There was a nearfall by Edge, but Bossman saved his partner. I gritted my teeth, angrily. If Edge and Gangrel lost, there was a good chance that 'Grel would do something unpleasant to Edge tonight. I un crossed and crossed my arms over my chest again, waiting. Diving clothesline by Edge. Good. Punch by Bossman. Not good. This continued for a little while longer, except the 'not good's started to outweigh the 'good's. Not good. Edge and 'Grel were looking tired. I considered going out and helping, but I decided against it. That would teach Edge to ask me to stay back. And if I stayed back here, I wouldn't be winded from fighting when it came time to protect Edge from 'Grel's irrational post match attacks. So I waited. Until the pin - which arrived shortly. And, yes, it was Edge getting pinned. I sighed. After a moment, Mideon and Bossman left, then 'Grel and Edge finally stumbled to their feet.
Ok, guys, come back. Let's get this over with.
I started to step away from the monitor to meet them at the curtain when they got back. My attention was detained, however, by 'Grel hitting the Impaler... on Edge. I froze, midstep. 'Grel got up and slid out of the ring, and I snapped out of my distraction and headed for the curtain at a run.
No, you are not giving Edge a Blood Bath! The monitor by the curtain showed 'Grel smirking as he went for the bucket. Forget going through the audience, I came down that ramp at full speed as the lights went out. I could only see through quick glimpses of light that fell sporadically through the arena, but I had a good idea about where Gangrel was and I came down hard with a forearm smash. Success. I grabbed his hair and clubbed him a few more times until he finally fell at my feet.
I slowed down for a moment to catch my breath, but I didn't stop. I turned, felt around for that bucket, dumped it out all over Gangrel, and, as a final statement, threw the bucket down at his prone body. With that, the lights came back on and I looked around, startled.
Wow, that felt so damn good, I almost forgot I was in an arena full of people. The people were cheering. That didn't concern me, however, as much as the fact that Edge was in the middle of the ring, slowly getting to his feet.
How would he react?
I slid into the ring and crossed to him, hesitantly. He looked at me blankly. I blinked, nervously, and took another step towards him. Without saying a word, he reached out and wrapped his arms around me, whispering in my ear, "Thanks, Chris."
I smiled and squeezed him back. "I hate it when you call me that."
We stood there in silence for a few blissful seconds that felt like an eternity before Edge informed me, "Everyone's watching us."
I stepped away from him, surprised, and looked at the audience. They were still cheering. Good. I looked to Edge, then we climbed out of the ring and walked to the back. Together. Without Gangrel.
Sure, Edge cast him one last glance from halfway up the ramp. But I set my hand on his shoulder and redirected his attention forward. It was time to leave him behind.