Chapter 10: Points of Authority

Ten of these ~ is a time change

Four of these • is a pov change

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything pertaining to WWE and TNA. I am well aware that the ages of the wrestlers in this fic don't match the time period of the fic. (I found it more sympathetic and believable for them to be younger, and that they'd garner more pity with a greater age difference.) I also moved AJ and Punk's marriage up a year. It was necessary to my story. Sue me. Violence, disturbing torture, blood, angst, language, slash, smut, non-con/rape (in later chapters).
SONG: POINTS OF AUTHORITY BY LINKIN PARK

Shit.

Everyone's favorite squeaky-voiced sociopath is with them. I see Jeff stand up in surprise out of the corner of my eye. I can't decide between fear and anger, so I show a little of both. Frantically backing away from Lesnar as much as my binds will allow, which is next to zero, I scream with my eyes to my best ability. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Fuck, you promised you wouldn't say a word. Oh God, for Jeff's sake you gotta stay quiet.

I look frantically from Lesnar to Jeff then to Lesnar and then Paul and Hunter. Jeff looks at me with something filled with fear that seemed like no, this can't be happening, you're fucked and there's nothing I can do about it. I groan behind clenched teeth. Definitely shot myself in the foot this time. If I go back on my promise I'm sure Lesnar will go after Jeff. So I just have to sit here and take it and let him systematically dismantle me. As Paul approaches me I ball up my fists out of instinct. He looks down at me condescendingly.

"Do you remember what your pathetic, begging ass promised us?" I look at the ground, fuming and trying to keep it inside. Get away from me, get away, please. He slaps me, once, twice, three times and I stare at the concrete, attempting to stop my body from shaking with anger. But my fists stay as they were, I won't let them take everything from me. I hear some shuffling on the ground and I think there's someone different in front of me. It doesn't matter. I'm standing my ground, even though I can't stand, and I continue to avert my eyes to the floor. Someone clears their throat but I'm not looking at them. I won't look at them. It's Hunter's voice this time, it doesn't seem angry. They have me where they want me.

Forfeit the game before somebody else takes you out of the frame, and puts your name to shame, cover up your face, you can't run the race, the pace is too fast, you just won't last.

"I do remember that your best friend took quite the beating from… it was me, wasn't it? I tore into your buddy's flesh with a belt and I made you watch as you're on your knees, helpless to stop us." I can hear the smile in his voice, I know he's enjoying watching me squirm. "Oh he tried, he tried real hard to keep it in. But we got him screaming his fucking lungs out, didn't we? Blood poured down his back and I kept lashing him, over and over. He wouldn't beg though, he wouldn't to go down. He's a tough little shit, but I don't give up either. Pain is a strange animal, Brooks. It changes people. Even the strongest spirits can be pushed over the edge, because everyone has a breaking point. You think you're some kind of superhuman, that you can't be taken down. You're mortal. Weak. Neither one of you have reached yours yet, but if you're thinking you can survive this without leaving a piece of yourself behind, you're crazy. We are going to take a part of you. That defiant, outspoken, strong-willed part. What makes Jeff so fierce, so passionate and free spirited. What makes you so quick witted, what gives you all your confidence and your drive to work harder than anyone else. You may think those are good qualities, you may value these parts of your personality. Maybe because it gets you over so much with the crowd, or perhaps you honestly think that it could save you in a situation like this? Do you know what I see in your coveted characteristics? Weakness. Flaws. Stubbornness. Fear that we are going to exploit." I can hear his footsteps leave me and I look up because I know exactly where he's going.

Jeff.

Like they haven't done enough.

Hunter smiles in a way that makes me involuntarily rattle my chains overhead. Because as mad as all of this makes me, him rubbing it in my face, even though it really makes me want to kill him, that's not the problem anymore. Fear has prominence right now. Fear of what he'll do to Jeff to make a point. Fear of how low he'll stoop. Fear of how far he'll go to hurt me. Fear because I'm still helpless. Fear because he's using Jeff against me, fear because he's just a pawn in the game to Hunter. Fear that Jeff might be dispensable to them. Jeff picks his head up and stares Hunter dead in the eye, unwavering and unafraid. He looks at Hunter in disgust and steals a quick glance at me. I do my best to give him a look of encouragement and force a half smile but I know he sees right through it. He still looks as confident as one could be in his situation. But when Hunter reaches out to touch his face, he snaps his head to the side swiftly and leans it as far away from Hunter as possible. Hunter just seems amused at Jeff's reaction. He reaches out to wrap his current victim's colorful hair around his fist and thrusts Jeff's head forward to meet his gaze. Hunter looks at me, even more pleased with himself when he sees the look on my face.

You love the way I look at you, while taking pleasure in the awful things you put me through

"You don't want me to hurt him, do you? You'd rather I go after you, that much I know. You feel guilty, don't you? Because you know that whatever happens to him is a direct result of you luring him down here." He pulls harder on Jeff's hair and he lets out angry groan through his teeth. His eyes are wide with fury as he tries to shake Hunter off, but that only makes him tighten his grip. Jeff speaks, and the effort he puts into keeping his voice level is extreme.

"Stop talking to him like that."

Hunter laughs and I hear Brock and Paul snickering as well. I know he's trying to stick up for me, and I appreciate that, but I think we both realize they won't listen to him. "He may not be able to say anything to defend himself, but I'm not going to stand idly by while you make him listen to that garbage. None of this is his fault! Are you kidding me? That's fucking ridiculous! He didn't walk down here and tie himself up and give you weapons to beat on him with. You did all of that. You caused all this, he couldn't stop you." He screams through his teeth as Hunter pulls his head backwards sharply, as far as it'll go. I flinch and clench my fists harder, trying to remain calm.

"Breaking point, Jeff. I recommend you don't forget that we'll push both of you past it. It's time someone cut out that part in your brain that makes you think you can stand up to us, for yourself or Brooks." He spits my name out like it's poison. "Whatever tells you that you stand a chance against us. If I've told him once I've told him a thousand times: we are going to force you to be obedient and we are going to force you to stay in line. You may think we can't, but you're wrong. We can do whatever we want, don't you fucking get it?" He slaps Jeff harshly across his face and jerks his head back with more force. I cringe, I want nothing more than to scream at him, but I can't. "We own you now. Get used to it." He leaves Jeff for his table and the blood starts pumping in my ears. How far will he go to get to me? Fear of the unknown is driving me crazy, but there's not a damn thing I can do about it. He brings back that same godforsaken belt and he smirks, seeing how the mere presence of the weapon makes us both our bodies stand up rigid. We know what happens when that belt comes into play.

No.

No, no, no.

I dig my nails into my palms and bite my bottom lip hard as he hands the belt over to Lesnar. Jeff doesn't know what Lesnar can do with that thing, but I do. Hunter steps back so Lesnar can reach Jeff. Brock glances back at Hunter, for an instruction I assume. "Five," is his simple command. Lesnar complies, rearing back and wrapping the belt around the side of Jeff's rib cage. I bite down harder as a choked yelp escapes my friend's lips. Lesnar laughs, a high-pitched noise that makes me want to strangle him, but again, I can't. He waits another moment and then brings the belt down again, giving time in between until five had been delivered. Driving him crazy not knowing when to anticipate the next blow. Jeff is full-on screaming by the last one, and my eyes are fixated on Hunter because he almost lusts for those screams, and it makes me sick. He looks at me like it's my fault. "You know, if I had any remorse it'd go out to him. It's definitely not you that deserves my sympathies. You got yourself and him into this. Find your way out."

You take away if I give in.

I try to scream at him for getting off on this with my eyes, but he doesn't get the message. Hunter nods to the Beast and he delivers five more deliberate blows to Jeff's torso, pulling more tortured screams from the poor man's throat. I try to put all this pent-up emotion that I can't let out into an incessed glare I train on Hunter, flinching at Jeff's outbursts. Hunter sees me after the third strike in Lesnar's set. He looks really amused by my anger. "I know what you're thinking Punk, and you're right, for once. I am enjoying the hell out of this. I love his pain, his screams, the look on his face. But even more, it feels damn good to know I caused this–" he gestures to me, "everything with you right now. Not only the physical shit, but how helpless you feel combined with the anger that you can't speak out against us. The way it fucks with your mind to watch us do this to him. The way you still think you stand a chance. You're right, I get off on it. I'm just a sick guy, Brooks. Get used to it. Because this sick guy, he's in charge of your future. Will you ever have another match? Will you still have a job? Will you still be alive? Better yet, will you ever want to work for me again? Will your fear of us and what we can do to you make you unable to even look us in the eye? These are questions only Paul and I know the answer to. But how long will it take until you realize that as soon as you give in things will get easier? Your stupid ass rebellion is going to stop cold as soon as you come to grips with the fact that you're not in control and you can't win. But when will you come to your senses? That's a question only you know the answer to."

My life, my pride is broken.

I'm itching to at least yell at him, cause I sure as hell can't touch him. I'm so sick of him talking shit to me, and I'm even more sick of him beating Jeff within an inch of his life just to hurt me. My body starts shaking and I can't stop it, I can't stop anything. I've never felt so powerless, which I'm sure is what they want. But then I get a thought, an awful, frightening thought that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I know why they're concentrating on Jeff, and it's not just to screw with my mind. Jeff left them high and dry five years ago when he was one of the best things they had going. And they haven't forgotten. Plus, he got over his addiction and has had a really good run in TNA so far. He jumped ship to their competition and became one of TNA's biggest assets. They're not happy about it. Not happy, yeah. That's the understatement of the century. That means they've probably been planning to fuck Jeff up at least as long as they've been planning to fuck me up.

You like to think you're never wrong, you live what you've learned.

Jeff doesn't know. Shit. And I can't speak, it's not like I could just tell him right now anyways, he's a mess, Brock's had his way with him. I know what that's like. It sucks.

You have to act like you're someone, you live what you've learned.

If I could be more afraid than before, I am now. But Hunter isn't done playing with me yet.

"So, Punk, you want to talk about recent events? Let's see, I beat the shit out of you, then Brock beat the shit out of you, then he took a belt and he hit you. And hit you. And hit you. And hit you. I bet it felt like forever, didn't it? …where was I? Oh yeah. We burned you with a cigarette, and then Jeff joined the party!" I twitch; he knows exactly how to push my buttons. "So we tied up Hardy, then we went to work on him, and we made you watch." I flinch. I want to shut him up so badly, but I know I can't.

You want someone to hurt like you, you live what you've learned.

"And you couldn't help him, could you? You begged and pleaded with us that he was innocent, and he had nothing to do with it, and you'd do anything." He taunts me, I stare hard at the ground using every strand of willpower I have. He emphasizes the words I had repeated over and over, like he feels bad for me, really just mocking me, daring me to say a word and break my promise. "But we didn't listen to you, did we, Punky? I beat his ass nine ways to Sunday and you begged me the whole time and I ignored you. I had my every intention to continue until you cried or something, but you said something that resonated with me in between your screams… and his screams. Cause I'm sure it doesn't feel good, does it Punk? It got you screaming too, didn't it? But when it was Jeff, you were absolutely horrified, weren't you? You wanted nothing more than to take his place. But what you said, you said we could do whatever we wanted, you wouldn't say a word, you wouldn't resist, you wouldn't insult us. That brings us to now.

You want to share what you've been through,

So unless you want me to repeat what I just did to Jeff again, or maybe just let Brock have a field day with him, I suggest you do as we ask you to, the first time we ask it. That means none of your smart-ass comments, none of your petty threats and none of your weak rebellion." He taps my closed fists. "So I recommend that you open up those fists," he nudges my chin with his index finger, "and you look at me when I talk to you. We are going to teach you about respect, something you are sorely lacking. By the time we're through with you two I think you'll have a very different outlook on things. I'll leave it at that. I expect you to keep your promise, or else." I look up at him, seething with anger, and I unclench my fists. He just recounted what could be the worst moment of my life, all the emotions that were raging inside me and fighting for dominance are back. I can't get that picture of my best friend's face showing clearly the pure torture he was being put through out of my head. I'm still shaking. I'm so fucking angry, I can hardly bear it. But Brock is coming after me now, and if things will be anything like our last encounter, I'm really in for it. Plus, now I can't even attempt to stop him or say anything.

What am I gonna do?

What can I do?

you

live

what

you've

learned.

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