Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything else mentioned that is recognizable.
I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.
Matt's eyes darted from Phil, who was silently sobbing, to Ken, who was still grinning at them. It seemed they reached the end of their rope: their efforts were meaningless. Matt heard Ed say "Stand" and he practically tugged Matt to his feet. Ken held out his hand for Phil to grab like a gentleman, and, instead of putting up a fight like he wanted to, he grabbed Ken's hand and allowed himself to be pulled up standing.
"Matt, you'll be coming with me," Ken said, "Ed's going to watch Punkers here on his way back. We get each other?"
"Ken, come on." Matt searched Ken's eyes, trying to find his old friend in them. "Ken, we've been through so much, Remember that time I accidentally stabbed myself with a hook on that fishing trip, and you helped take it out? I bled so much, but you guys all were so patient... you all bandaged me up, and you called me a baby when I screamed..."
Ken's face grew serious, and he frowned, returning Matt's gaze. "I remember that day perfectly," he said, "I remember losing precious fishing time because Matt had a boo-boo. And then my Master caught me in a weak moment, claiming my soul, all because Matt cheated him out of his prize. Does that sound fair to you, Matt? That you should get to be free while Ed, me, and everyone else are servants?" Matt gulped; this wasn't his fault. There was no way he could've known Azazel would've stood around because of him.
"What about you, Phil?" Ken asked, turning to Phil. "Does that sound fair? You're going to lose your soul soon enough. Should Matt get to be free?" Ken grabbed Phil's other hand, his unharmed hand. gently brushing his thumb over the skin.
Phil's whole body tensed, getting the threat, and he said, "No, it's not fair..."
Ken smiled. "See?" He let go of Phil's hand and said, "Well, let's-"
"Excuse me, I heard a scream, is everything..." The hotel manager ran into the room, nearly out of breath. He saw Matt's fear filled face, Punk's teared expression, and the hard expressions of Ken and Ed, and he immediately jumped to the conclusion that Ken and Ed were harassing Matt and Phil. "I'm calling the cops!" He shouted, marching to the phone on the side of the room, "You two better scat-"
He never saw it coming. Within seconds after picking up the phone and dialing the number, Ed and Ken were on him. Ed snatched the phone and crushed it with his hand while Ken shook his head. "You know, nothing personal," Ken said, slamming him into the wall, "I just hate it when people don't mind their own business."
"Matt!" Phil hissed. Matt whipped around and saw Phil running, immediately getting the picture. He was afraid for the man, but he didn't think Ken and Ed would kill him. And besides, he was afraid of what Azazel had in mind for 'breaking' him.
Ken whirled around, sighing. "Talk about rudeness!" He snapped, "Ed, keep our friend company. I've got two idiots to catch." He ran after them, muttering about rude people and how much he hated them. Ed was so used to his partner's tantrums that they didn't even faze him anymore. Besides, he had a job to do.
******************
The hall Matt and Phil took led to the emergency staircase. They were about to turn around, to get to the exit, but the sound of Ken running put a dash to those plans. Next thing Phil knew, Matt was helping him up the stairs, careful of his broken hand.
"Are you okay?" Matt asked. Phil shook his head.
"It hurts, Matt, it hurts..."
"Just hold out, okay?" Matt whispered. Phil nodded, holding back the bitter tears guaranteed to fall soon. He must've been a sight: with the broken hand, tear streaked face, and the fear filled green eyes, he was a shell of the man he wanted to be. Especially when people could see him.
"Alright. Ollie-ollie-oxen-free!" They heard Ken call out. Matt pulled Phil a little too fast, making him stumble, but they kept running. "First one back gets a prize!"
"Come on, Phil, faster," Matt pushed, unwilling to leave him. He knew he and Phil weren't exactly friends, but he just couldn't leave him.
"I can't..." Ken was getting closer, and Matt knew that, if they didn't do something drastic, he was going to catch up. He saw a window and got sudden inspiration. It was crazy, but it wasn't like they were too very high up- they were on the second floor.
"Jump," Matt said, pushing Phil to the window. Phil didn't argue at all; he was willing to throw caution to the wind, all to escape. He hung off the window for a moment, a little afraid of repercussions, but then he jumped.
It was like flying, being free for just one moment. Phil could almost forget everything in that moment. But then it was over- he hit the ground with a thud arm first, and searing pain shot through him. He screamed as he heard Matt land next to him with a groan.
Matt got up as fast as possible, going to Phil. "Come on," he said, "We have to keep going, come on..." But Phil was sobbing, too stuck in his own pain to even think about escape. Matt looked up and saw Ken at the window, giving them a fake stern face, as if he were disappointed in them. "Phil, we have to go!" Matt said, trying to pull him up. "Phil..."
Suddenly, Matt heard a faint sound. It was growing louder and louder, and he recognized it as the whine of a police siren. Ken looked toward the sound, and he looked like he was about to catch up to them, but instead he left. Matt didn't question why; he was just happy he did.
Maybe they had a chance after all.
*****************
Phil's eyes snapped open, a sterile smell filling his nostrils. He looked around, seeing he was alone in a hospital room. He was pretty comfortable, wearing only the hospital gown and a pair of boxers. There was only a slight pain in his head, but compared to everything else, it was minimal. He stretched and sat up, ready to find some food or something.
"What are you doing?" Phil turned around and saw Matt at the door. The words were slow, each ringing in Phil's ears like a sweet melody. Matt was wearing the green slacks and top of a male nurse, and Phil wanted to do something other than stare, but he couldn't. "You have to get back into bed," he said. Matt walked over to Phil and pushed him down gently. "We wouldn't want you to aggravate your injuries, would we?"
Phil shook his head, unable to stop staring at Matt. He smiled, almost as if he were amused by Phil. "Matt..."
Matt shook his head. "Nurse Hardy, Phillip." Matt grabbed his arm, almost as if he were checking his pulse. "Hmm... that's good, you seem stable..." Phil gulped as Matt began slowly caressing his arm. He didn't know what was going on, but hell if he didn't like it.
"Anything hurt?" Matt asked, brown eyes almost piercing Phil's very soul. "Tell me how I can help you, Phil."
"My head..." Phil said, "It hurts a little..."
"Let me see." Matt's other hand trailed down to the front of Phil's hospital gown, slowly touching his privates through the material. "I think I do feel a little swelling. Maybe I should take care of that." His hand grew a little faster, stroking Phil, making him moan.
Phil didn't mean that head, but any attempts to argue died on his lips as Matt took care of him. Matt's smile grew and he leaned close, lips inches from Phil's. Then, his deep, brown eyes turned soulless, gray like Azazel's servants. Phil stared at him with fear, wondering how Matt made the change so quickly. What happened? But, before Phil could say anything, Matt opened his mouth. Sounding completely hopeless, he said, "I'm going to be his soon, just you wait. He's going to get me, and it'll be all your fault..."
Phil woke up, but his limbs felt like they weren't there; it was hard to move. His broken hand was elevated and wrapped in a cast. It didn't hurt so much as itch now. He looked up and saw an old, wizened doctor smiling at him. "Ah, sir, you're awake!"
"What happened?" Phil asked. Last he remembered, Matt was telling him to jump out the window. Now, he was in the hospital.
"When we found you and your friend, you were in shock," he explained, "We had to sedate you to calm you down." That explained why his limbs felt weightless. "We brought your friend and you here, and I think your hand's healing quite nicely..."
Phil remembered Matt then. He shook the pictures he had of Matt in the nurse's outfit out of his head, both the seductive version and the soulless one, and he asked, "Where is he?"
The doctor pointed to a chair in the corner, and Phil looked at it. Matt was asleep in the chair, looking nothing like the shell in Phil's dream. In fact, he almost looked peaceful. "He stood awake the whole time we operated on your hand," the doctor explained, "And was up for most of the night. You've got a good friend there."
Phil nodded, wondering why Ken and Ed didn't just catch up with them. Why did they let them go off? Were the two men with such amazing strength really afraid of the police and the ambulance?
"Try to get some sleep, okay?" the doctor said. "It'll be best, and we'll do some tests tomorrow..."
Phil didn't want to sleep, but decided that, for some reason, he and Matt were safe here. And he wanted to take advantage of this rare chance for rest. The dream was weird, he'd admit, but it was probably a side effect of the drugs or something. He wasn't even attracted to Matt like that!
He threw the idea out of his head; it was ridiculous and beared no further thought. He knew one thing for certain, and it was that Matt wouldn't fall into Azazel's hands. He wouldn't let it happen. Matt won Phil's full allegiance when he helped him up the stairs, risking his own freedom for Phil's. He owed Matt now, and that wasn't something Phil Brooks took lightly.
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