I'm going to warn you, there's some underage Hardycest in this chapter, it's not graphic as that would just be wrong.

Chapter 11

On Wednesday August 31st 1977 twenty year-old Sarah Vickers was brought into the emergency room with contractions. While miles away an F4 Tornado hit Michigan, Sarah fought heavily against the pain. Somewhere in California a twenty year-old woman was found guilty of armed robbery and on another continent a young black girl watched her brother getting shot. In between those turbulent events of the day, Jeffrey was born.

He screamed loudly and his mother took him reluctantly into her arms. He would never be able to make a clear choice whether or not it was a blessing to be an infant blinded by helplessness. The newborn had no idea of the outside world when he was laid into his mothers' arms. There was warmth around him and therefore he stopped crying.

Nature apparently had a plan for him because his existence was a miracle. The many unorthodox methods with which his mother had tried to get rid of the growing child in her womb were fruitless and he was born a healthy child. A little small maybe but nothing to worry about.

Sarah was worried, though. Her life was now officially ruined, she thought as she cradled the peacefully sleeping boy in her arms. Her family had made it clear that she was no longer welcome at home and Jeffrey's father had offered her a monthly check in return for her silence.

She moved into a small house in a quiet neighbourhood. The house was paid for and she received almost three thousand dollars a month. Yet, she barely made an effort to spend it. Sarah's biggest problem was that she had been in love with the child's father. Unfortunately she was nothing more than an affair and not even her sudden pregnancy could change that.

Vaguely Jeffrey would be able to recall the first five years of his life. Sometimes he believed them to be happy, sometimes horrible. Whatever they were, the only thing he remembered clearly was his mother. He remembered her to be funny. At least she had a talent for making him laugh. He would always be able to recall the slightly numbed voice of his mother blurring something to make him laugh.

A maid was sent to their home three times a week to clean and Jeffrey found that always highly interesting. He would be sitting on the couch pretending to watch TV whilst his mother made a complete fool of herself by harassing the poor woman. His mother always asked the same questions.

'Has he asked about us?'

'Won't he come by soon?'

'Doesn't he wanna see his son?'

She would receive nothing more than a shrug. The maid didn't know and Sarah fell back into her apathetic state. They barely left house and Jeffrey never questioned how they could afford a relatively decent home without her working. His entire world for the first five years of his life had been shrunk to their home.

The TV was the world outside and he was afraid to play outside. Mostly because his mom was constantly warning him about the bad people out in the world. She would mumble something about broken hearts and snarling out her hate for everyone outside. Many years later, a clever man would point out that Sarah Vickers might have suffered from a form of aggravation. However, his studies came too late.

It hadn't always been easy for Jeffrey to deal with Sarah's depression. Yet, he did. He was too young to understand that he wasn't exactly living in ideal circumstances and he loved his mother. Therefore, he only secretly wished to be part of one of the intact TV families.

On one strangely beautiful autumn day, the depression had finally caught up with her. Sarah apologized to him firmly with a cigarette stuck on her lips. She mumbled something about him being a big mistake, emptied her glass and killed herself.

Years later a psychiatrist would ask him what he remembered about that day. He would answer that he remembered the shade of the light. The day had started with his favourite light; he'd say and when asked what it was that made the day so different.

Jeffrey had woken up on that dreadful day by the voice of his mother calling him down for breakfast. He pulled the blanket away and rubbed his eyes before approaching the window. He climbed up a chair, stared outside, and smiled.

A storm was coming and had already announced its arrival. There were still rays of sunlight fighting through the clouds but the sky had already turned almost black. The light was oddly cut from the sky as if it was no longer belonging.

All that remained was condensed sunlight, turning everything in an almost artificial glow. Jeff stared outside and felt like a part of the light. He felt cut off from the outside. They never interacted with the community. The adults around the suburban neighbourhood didn't accept them. The hippie vibe hadn't hit this part of the state yet and a single mother wasn't something to be tolerated.

Yet, since they barely went out anyway and Jeff was too young for school, nobody cared much. That was the reason why the married couple living next to them shut their windows when they heard a child starting to cry. It was also the reason why it had to been long after dawn before another neighbour across the street finally called 911.

The police arrived at the house prepared for some sort of domestic violence and were quite surprised to find Jeff sitting in front of his mother crying. She had cut her wrist and judging by the way she'd cut it wasn't a cry for help.

In the beginning Jeff had watched her silently not really sure of what was going on. When she stopped breathing he eyed her suspiciously still unsure of what to do. The thought of calling for help crossed his mind but faded away with the shock he was in. After two hours of silence waiting for something to happen he panicked and because he was a child, he did the one thing that would always get attention.

Jeff started crying. He cried for four hours straight and his throat was sore when they had found him. They brought him to the Sheriff's station and gave him some hot chocolate. They cleaned him up and called child services. They didn't explain to him what had happened and he didn't ask any questions.

Charles Hardy was a very powerful man. A brilliant attorney with his eyes on the Supreme Court. When the call reached him at 9 pm at night he feared of all his hard work would fall apart. Nonetheless, the boy was his flesh and blood and therefore he drove to the Sheriff station to pick up his son.

Charles secretly hoped the problem was out of the world and the only thing reminding him of his mistake were the monthly checks he'd sent Sarah. Obviously, the woman hadn't been stable and now he was stuck with his bastard son. He made some calls and decided that the only thing that would help him out of this mess was a confession.

His wife was barely reacting until he mentioned that they had to take the boy in. She wasn't very happy about that. However there was a reason why they had found each other and her hunger for power, or more accurately the prestige and the riches that were created because of it, she played her part.

There was a press conference where Jeff's father gave a great performance in honesty and admitted openly to the affair. He made a statement that from now on Jeffrey would be part of the Hardy family. The five-year old was completely clueless about what was going on and quietly followed the stranger home. Mrs. Hardy fulfilled her motherly duty in ordering a maid to clean him up and showed him to his room.

Hardy Senior came up to his room and gave him a speech. The older man was welcoming him to his family by pointing out what was to be expected from him. Jeffrey had become a Hardy and even though he didn't really care about that he accepted it wordlessly.

They fed him and he was sent to bed. When he crawled up under the itching blankets of the king size guest bed he cried for his mother. He cried for her for the last time and erased her from his mind. It seemed the best solution for him in his situation. On very few occasion he would be overwhelmed with a memory that always faded quickly.

However, there was one member in the family that sparked his interest. Matthew Hardy was eight years old and not very amused by his new brother. However, there was never a true rivalry. Hardy Senior more than once showed how much he preferred his firstborn than Jeffrey.

Matthew was bothered by Jeffrey's presence and therefore forbid the young boy to play with his toys. Jeffrey would just watch him play with them. The younger boy never complained and soon figured out that the best way to live here was to become invisible. It was helping both sides to ignore each other. One thing he couldn't ignore was Matthew.

The years passed by and Jeffrey watched silently as his stepbrother was growing up like a prince to a throne. Matthew was everything Jeffrey was not but wanted to be. Even though the older juvenile was barely talking to him, Jeffrey started to secretly worship him.

After six years, Jeffrey had become some sort of a ghost. Even though his grades were brilliant, nobody was taking notice of it. Nobody noticed that he was sneaking into Matthew's room every now and then just to be there. He wasn't touching anything just breathing in the scent of his older brother.

Nobody noticed that he also developed quite an interest in death. He was thirteen when he read Kafka and listened to Mahler's 'Kindertotenlieder' on an endless repeat. Jeffrey wasn't a sad boy, he was just not really living in on the same level as his family. Whilst he was making a game out of listening to his heartbeat for hours in complete solitude, his older brother was confronted with an unexpected turn in his life.

Turning sixteen turned out to be a challenge. When Matthew discovered that he rather liked to touch boys, he was desperately hiding it. He was ambitious and had inherited a natural hunger for power. Matthew was a popular boy at a private school and he intended to stay popular. This meant for him to date girls he didn't like and hiding every blush that caressed his cheeks when looking at a boy he liked.

Homosexuality in his family and in his future was unacceptable. Hormones however made that mission very difficult and on one spring day, he accidentally bumped into his little brother on the corridor. Jeff mumbled a shy sorry and Matthew had found the solution to his problems. It was then that things took a drastic turn and neither of the adults noticed it.

Later on that night Matt crawled up into his younger brother's bed and masturbated. On the second night, he used Jeff's hand to find release. Matt was only partly aware to the wrongness in his doing. He simply pushed aside all morals.

Nevertheless, Jeffrey reacted somewhat unexpectedly and instead of feeling abused, he felt the opposite. Willingly he gave into the forbidden touches. The first few times it was only Matthew who initiated this forbidden intimacy.

For a period of six months, Jeff was struggling with his emotions. Knowing somewhere in his head that it was wrong yet feeling completely uplifted by it as well. After his fourteenth birthday, he pushed aside all doubts and sunk into this twisted love affair.

Jeffrey had his first climax in the arms of Matthew and from that moment on lived only for him. He was badly craving the attention after being alone for so many years.

He wanted to become like Matthew and believed that the closeness would help achieve that. Jeff did everything Matt asked him to do and kept his mouth shut.

Throughout his high school years, Matthad officially dated three girls, who were all heartbroken when he ended it and wascalled a playboy. He received praises for his athletic skills and was introduced to a row of powerful men. His life couldn't be any better. Nobody knew that he was getting release by abusing his younger half brother.

During that time, Jeff's mind was solely focused on Matthew. Unlike his older brother, he had no other goals and fell so helplessly in love with him that it erased everything else. His affection was always filled with a bitter taste but since he had no comparison, he didn't care.

Matthew's attention to him, though, was limited to the time he needed to climax. He was friendly with him but nothing more. Their touches were passionate and heated yet made with different points of view. Thus, Jeff didn't even notice the coldness; in his mind he was loved beyond doubt.

When Matthew went away for a year Jeffrey was devastated and suffered physically by being sick. Every second week his body was rattled by another infection and he fell back in school. During the twelve months he didn't receive a letter, nor did Matthew ever talk to him on the phone.

The second Matthew was back in his life he seemed to recover. The first two weeks everything seemed to be going back to normal. Since the older Hardy Son had not outlived his urges during the exchange year in Europe he was equally lusting for that sort of closeness and carelessly took advantage of his teenage brother.

However, two weeks later Matthew went off to an Ivy League college with the goal to be accepted into a high profile Brotherhood. While he was only thinking about the pledging, Jeffrey struggled at home. He had lost interest in school all together and wasn't even showing up most of the time.

Instead, he spent hours walking aphetically through the house. He had no friends and no other connections. His father was barely talking to him and therefore he decided on one hot summer day to follow his desired object of affection. He left on a Greyhound on a Friday morning and drove all the way up to California.

His family didn't even notice that he was gone. Jeffrey arrived on the campus of the Stanford University late in the evening and eagerly started searching for Matthew. He found him in the dormitory, where Matthew had been living for the time being. However he was determined to move into a Frat house as soon as he was accepted into the Brotherhood.

Matt wasn't happy to see his younger brother. Not only because he seriously didn't want to have anything to do with him outside Jeff's bedroom but because he was confronted with his secret. He couldn't afford a scandal or even a rumour starting. They had an argument in which resulted in Matt telling Jeff to leave.

For Jeff it felt like his heart was being ripped out. Unwilling to accept it, he followed Matt to the Frat house that night. The task that the pledging boys had been given was a traditional one. They were all supposed to bring a willing girl. Ever since the discussion about hazing had started it seemed the easiest solution.

Matt's date was a girl named Charlotte. Jeff watched them through narrowed eyes when they entered the house. For two hours he was fighting with himself about whether or not he should go inside. He decided to at least take a look. The backdoor was carelessly left open and he snuck in.

By that time, the seven Fratboys and the five pledges had already consumed alcohol in a high dosage, nobody noticed Jeff. He risked a look into the living room but Matthew wasn't there. He followed the music upstairs and found his stepbrother making out with Charlotte.

Jeffrey stood frozen in the doorframe trying to cope with the picture in front of him. Jealousy formed an adrenaline rush that made him shiver. He was just about to react and scream out when a voice from the corner growled.

"Who the fuck is that?"

Matt stopped his pathetic attempt to fuck his date and turned around. He frowned at the sight of Jeff and let go of the girl.

"That's my fucking brother, stepbrother I mean," he snarled angrily but there was fear weaving with his words.

Stephen Amstell moved up from his seat and turned on the light.

"And what is your fucking brother doing here?"

Jeff blinked and lowered his eyes. The light made the whole scene so much more real and he felt a sickening feeling rising inside of him.

"Being a fucking pain in the ass," Matthew replied and grabbed his beer bottle.

Stephen smirked and took a step closer to Jeffrey. He leaned his head to the side and lifted Jeff's chin.

"You were supposed to bring a chick, Matt," he grunted and Charlotte let out a sound of disapproval.

"Fuck you both," she snapped and pulled her jeans up. She slipped her shirt over her head and grabbed her shoes. A scent of sweet perfume was all that was left when she angrily left the room.

Matt pulled a face and sighed. "Guess my chick is gone."

Stephen was a different type of guy. He wouldn't even call himself gay. He was just highly aroused by Jeff's confused looking eyes. Licking his lips, he gave Matthew a devilish grin. "Well, with the right preparation he could almost look like a girl."

Every second in one's life something life changing happens but rarely do we even acknowledge it. Jeff did. It wasn't so much that they stripped him and dressed him in a maid outfit they ripped from a life-size rubber sex doll.

It wasn't the lipstick they stole from a girl's purse downstairs. Not their words. It wasn't Stephen softly brushing through his hair or the fading of his vision when his glasses were pulled away. It wasn't the being roughly touched by four hands.

Not the playful beatings. Not their laughter that echoed through the air. It wasn't even the rape. It was Matthew's participation. Matt's acceptance of his despair that changed him forever. He had his hands clawed into the blankets and his lips pressed together tightly when they took him in turns.

There wasn't a sound coming from him. His skin was itching from the cheap fabric of his dress. Another Frat boy stumbled drunkenly into the room, roaring something profound. He later wouldn't even remember that he had participated. It was all just a giant party. With loud music and a row of beautiful boys.

Jeffrey's mind however was focused on one of them only and his heart hardened the longer he was there. When they were too drunk to continue with it Matt lulled something about the ultimate task. This had been an old ritual in the pledges. They only slightly changed to rules.

About three more Frat boys joined the group as they dragged Jeff outside. The forest surrounding the Frat house wasn't big but it was still drowned in total darkness. They tied him to a tree and Matthew told Jeff that should he be here in the morning unharmed he would be accepted as an honouree member.

The growls of laughter circled through his mind as he watched them go. There was one thing Jeffrey was certain though he would not be here in the morning. Pushing aside all dangerous sounding noises, the creepy darkness from the trees he ripped on his bounds.

He groaned and breathed heavily. Sweat poured down his face and he shook his head to keep the insects away. It was almost dawn when he finally had forced himself free by rubbing the rope against the sharp wood. Blood was trailing down his wrist like flames and he stared at his skin thinking that it looked amazingly beautiful.

There were traces of blood running down his thighs yet he ignored it. He got rid of the last piece of rope and the dress. Jeffrey left them at the tree before he turned away. He didn't look back when he started walking. He didn't feel the cold or the pain. There were no more tears because Jeff wouldn't allow himself to cry.

An older man on his way to work spotted the naked, bleeding boy on the roadside around ten am. He stopped his car and Jeffrey leaned his head to side. His eyes stared confused through the window whilst the man said something about a hospital.

Wordlessly Jeffrey got into the car and left it just as wordlessly when they arrived at the hospital. He walked up the stairs feeling nothing. He wasn't even bothered about being naked. He reached the desk and said in a steady voice that he was in need for medical attention. The nurse was slightly taking back by his sight and needed to clear her throat before she sent him to room one.

Another seven hours later Charles Hardy arrived in the hospital. The doctor in charge informed him that Jeffrey had been sexually assaulted by at least three men. His injuries however were forced by an undefined sharp object, possibly a letter opener. There were some bite marks on his right shoulder and bruises.

"What did he say?" Charles asked completely shaken by that revelation.

"Nothing."

Jeffrey left the hospital an hour later without revealing the names of his tormenters. He did not talk to his father during the drive. They drove back to the Frat house because Charles wanted to say good-bye to Matthew.

Matthew was pale and he was obviously shaken when they stepped inside. None of the Frat boys seemed relaxed yet Jeffrey didn't move a muscle. He was actually relaxed standing in their circle. He could see the fear in those who helped with this. Their fear made him grin viciously at some point and it freaked them all out.

Jeffrey gave Matthew a piercing glance before he left, making a silent promise. Back in Cameron everything about Jeff changed. He was no longer playing a ghost but became loud and obnoxious. He was aggressive in school and when he killed the neighbours' dog, he was institutionalized.

For one year, several psychiatrists had tried to find a way through to him yet Jeffrey did not intend to let them know what he felt. He had always been a very intelligent person but some of the doctors were surprised to see that Jeff's talent had been wasted.

While they tried to work with that Jeff was planning his brothers' death. He did so from the moment he had freed himself from the bonds. There was nothing that could make his mind stop from plotting. The image of his brother grew wider and more beautiful with every day and with every day he started to hate him more.

His agitation about those fantasies was making him become radical in his sexual behaviour and he was thrown into a two-week solitude chamber after an attempted rape on one of the other patients. It was in those two weeks that he realized that he was doing it all wrong.

He became a wonderful actor with a ton of applause when he supposedly had changed. Another six months of playing the cooperative patient and he was released back into society. Jeffrey didn't even greet his father when he came back. He was sixteen and hated it.

Chester had to wait until he was be old enough and in the meanwhile, he pulled back to being a ghost. He was eighteen when he was finally able to live out his fantasy. For years, he had worked hard on himself. Despite his father's demands, he had skipped school and never even applied for a college.

Instead, he had found work at a local tattoo shop and learned that sort of art. He was still not athletic or very strong but he had developed an arrogance that overshadowed all weaknesses.

When he arrived at his brother's apartment in New York City he was aware of his attributes. He had shaved his head and was wearing a white wife-beater. Tattoos were already caressing his skin. He was feeling confident and aroused when he knocked at Matthew's door.

Matt had barely thought about his younger brother. Jeff, on the other hand, had done nothing but think about Matt.

Jeffrey knew that Matt would be alone for the weekend because he had listened to a conversation between mother and son. It seemed like a sign and he left almost instantly.

Revenge was what he searched for. Some sort of closure. Maybe an answer as well. What he found was four hours of never before known pleasure. He had taken control of Matthew and had been soaked up into his own lust. The fury that had been raving inside his heart for so long was bursting out into brutality.

Jeff found himself inside a dance. A twisted waltz of violence, hoping that it would never end. Because in that moment Matthew had become his. He was ravaging over the utterly shocked older man. If someone would have stopped time for him maybe he would have been fine.

They both would have been stuck into this void of pain. Unfortunately, Matt died. Even though it had been planned from the beginning, it came completely unexpected. Torn between the intense pleasure he took out of his act and the loss of a loved one, Jeffrey cried again.

He cleaned Matthew's body thoroughly with soft tentatively hands. Brushed his hair like he would do with a puppet. All the time he talked to his older brother and felt the salt of his tears on his lips. When he left he burned the apartment. He would be standing at his brother's grave listening to the priest calling Matthew's passing a tragic accident without giving away his feelings.

After a year he started to remember his moment of happiness and he constructed a new plan. When he came to Los Angeles he had perfected his art and was instantly hired by Moore Ink. Even though many people would describe him as odd and scary he was respected for his talents.

Jeffrey successfully built up a new identity without accepting any money from his family. The last thing he wanted to be was to be a Hardy. Yet, he never considered changing the name.

Jeffrey stared at the FBI Agent at the door knowing that his father had arrived. He wondered what he should do.

'This is my story', he thought and grinned.

"Sir," he said and McMahon turned his head. "I want to make a confession."