Dark Reflections

Chapter 36

Flying Head First Into Fate

Shawn groaned and rolled over, putting a hand to his head to try and push the migraine away. He really hated headaches, but migraines were far worse. He opened his eyes and groaned once more at the amount of light pouring into the hotel room. He could kill Paul for leaving the blinds open. Shawn was happy there were no sounds coming from the room… And he couldn't care less that he could be alone. Paul was a big boy; he could take care of himself.

"You certainly can sleep."

Shawn's eyes shot open, despite the pain his head was in, and darted around the room. His eyes landed on Bret Hart, who was sitting on the other bed, staring at Shawn with a friendly smile on his face.

"Where's Paul?" Shawn almost wanted to ask Bret to smack him, for he lacked the strength to do it himself, because of how weak his tone was.

"He's with Vince and Shane. I called him about an hour ago and asked if I could come see you. He thought it was a good idea so he could go out with his in-laws. I volunteered to hang around and wait for you to wake up… Whoa. You don't look okay. What's the matter?" Bret asked as he pushed himself off the bed and took a tentative step closer to Shawn, who raised a confused eyebrow at Bret's actions.

"I have a migraine."

Bret sighed.

"Poor kid. Did you ever take Excedrin? Trust me, it works great,"

Bret turned back to the spare bed and opened the small compartment of a red Jansport backpack. He fished around inside and eventually pulled out a bottle of Excedrin Migraine. He walked back over to Shawn and handed him a water bottle.

"One or two?" Bret asked.

Shawn groaned and put a hand to his head. Why was Bret asking him to think?

"Two." Shawn replied and held out his hand.

Bret popped the bottle open and handed Shawn the desired amount of pills.

"I feel like such a drug dealer. Be careful, the water bottle is full."

Bret watched as Shawn took the pills without incident and returned the water bottle to the night table. Bret put the bottle back in his backpack and sat back down on the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing here?" Shawn asked.

Bret rubbed his head somewhat uncomfortably and sighed.

"I'm here to talk to you. Better yet, I'm here to check up on you. I heard what happened the other night after Raw and I'm really sorry. I can't believe that cop was in on everything… And Shane-O looks like he was hit by a truck. What the hell is he doing out of the hospital so early?"

"He's stubborn, just like his old man." Shawn replied and with a lazy smirk.

Bret smiled.

"Yeah, I couldn't agree more. I think it's funny because everyone tells Shane he's almost nothing like his old man. However, if you look close, you can sure as hell see the similarities,"

Bret saw the discomfort the light was causing Shawn and walked over to the blinds.

"I would assume this isn't doing you any good whatsoever," He stated as he closed the blinds, then walked over to the bathroom and put the light on.

He walked back over to the spare bed and sat on it.

"Do you want me to get a cold rag for your head or something?"

"No thanks, Bret… The light was the most annoying thing… How's Blade?" Shawn asked.

Bret smiled, something he knew Shawn couldn't see in the extremely darkened hotel room.

"Blade is good, thanks for asking. You know how teenagers are… He's always complaining of boredom when he has at least fifty things he could be doing… He's taken an interest in writing recently… When he's not playing the guitar, playing video games or playing hockey, that is,"

Bret observed how Shawn's eyelids were drooping and sighed.

"Do you want me to shut up so you can get some sleep?" He asked.

Shawn let his head drop to the side.

"Don….Care…"

Bret chuckled and nodded his head in amusement. He watched as Shawn's breathing evened out and knew he had fallen asleep. He looked around the room and was glad to see nothing was broken. He overheard Paul telling (more like yelling) at Vince about how stubborn Shawn was sometimes and how bad his temper was. Bret remembered hearing stories of how an extremely pissed off Shawn used to go around putting his fists through walls and breaking vases. Thankfully, this hotel stay would not cost Vince an extra thousand or so dollars for damages.

Paul was sitting down, nervously tapping his knife onto the table at some weird diner Vince decided to go to for lunch. The old man was rambling, yet again, about how much he hated Donald Trump and how fake the "weave" was. Shane was rolling his eyes every so often, wincing away the obvious pain he was in and making hilarious gestures behind Vince's back. Paul jumped up, smashing his leg into the table and stopping Vince mid-sentence, when he felt his cell phone vibrate. He looked down at the caller ID and smiled… He would be free of Vince's bitching! For now, anyway.

He walked away and answered the phone.

"Hello? Steve! God is it good to hear from you. How are you?" He asked.

"By the tone in your voice, I'm going to guess that you were forced to listen to Vince ramble about how much Donald Trump sucks. Anyway, I have some news to report to you. Wait… Where's Shawn?" Steve asked.

Paul sighed.

"He's back at the hotel room. I didn't want to wake him up because he's been very testy since Monday. Bret Hart is with him." Paul replied.

He immediately heard the alarming tone in Steve's voice.

"WHAT THE FUCK? Paul! Paul, listen to me! You HAVE to get back to the hotel and get Bret away from Shawn!"

Paul pulled the phone away from his ear. He was certain the whole diner could hear Steve on the other end. Once the man stopped shouting, he put the phone back to his ear.

"Steve… Steve, calm down. What's the matter? Why should I go back to the hotel and take Bret away from Shawn?" He asked.

Steve sighed.

"I just got out of the jail Austin Payne is locked up in. He told me that Bret Hart was behind everything."

Paul felt the color drain from his face. The sarcastic tone he once had faded away in a matter of seconds.

"What did you just say?" He asked in a dark tone.

"I said… Bret Hart was behind everything… Ya know… Shawn's kidnapping? So go back to the fucking hotel and get him away from Shawn!" Steve shouted and hung up.

Paul pocketed his cell phone and returned to the table, only to see Vince yapping away and Shane banging his head on the table.

"Guys… We have to go back to the hotel…" Paul stated, making Shane raise his head from the table to look at him.

Vince even stopped talking.

"Why?" Vince asked, the look on his face changing to mirror Paul's seriousness.

Shane, however, wasn't convinced at all.

"I left Bret Hart with Shawn. I just got a call from Steve telling me that he spoke to Austin Payne… And Payne named Bret Hart as his accomplice,"

Paul watched as Vince's eyes widened and his face reddened with anger. Shane, however, narrowed his eyes.

"We have to go back there to get Bret."

Paul turned around to leave. Shane stood up and glared at the back of Paul's head.

"No!" He shouted, making Paul turn to look at the slightly younger man.

"What's your problem, Shane," Paul asked.

He took a few steps so the two were face to face.

"Can't stand the thought of being wrong for once? You and your little ghosty friends were wrong about this one, kid. Accept it and get over it." Paul growled.

Shane looked to the side of Paul and closed his eyes, then sighed and looked back at Paul.

"I know I'm not wrong, Paul. You're not going back to the hotel. You're staying here. Bret is of no threat to Shawn."

Paul put his hands on his hips and shifted his weight onto his right leg.

"How do I know you don't have something to do with this, Shane? I mean… You're dead set on keeping the man who traumatized Shawn out of prison… How do I know that you and Bret aren't in on it?" Paul asked.

Shane smirked and glared at his brother in law.

"Think with your brain, you fucking ignorant blonde. Do you think Vasquez would've shot me if I was in on it? Do you think I would've fucking jumped to save you and Shawn if I was in on it? No. I would've fucking sat back and watched. But I didn't. I wanted to save the two of you. So I jumped into action. I KNOW Bret had nothing to do with this mess. Austin Payne is lying to all of us."

"You're just afraid to admit that you're wrong, Shane. That stubborn McMahon pride has seeped too far… I sure hope your sons don't turn out the same way." Paul stated.

Shane exhaled deeply.

"Look… We've let this go too far… Let's just settle down and finish lunch. We can go back to the hotel when we're done." Shane stated.

Paul nodded and gestured for Shane to turn around. Vince was about to open his mouth to warn his son about the evil gleam in Paul's eyes… But it was a bit too late. Paul grabbed Shane by the back of his head and slammed him face first onto the edge of the table. Everyone in the diner turned to look at Paul, who was huffing and puffing like a caged monster.

"What the hell?" Vince shouted and scrambled to get to Shane's side.

"I'm going to the hotel… And you aren't going to fucking stop me." Paul seethed, then spun on his heels and stomped out of the diner.

Vince watched Paul leave and rolled his eyes, then looked down at his son and frowned. There were several spots of blood seeping through Shane's shirt where he had been shot. His lips were split down the middle and he had a small cut on the bridge of his nose from where he connected with (and shattered) a bread dish on the table. Shane was glaring up at his father by the time Vince had processed the injuries in his head.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch." Shane growled.

Vince chuckled and helped Shane stand up.

"What was that all about, anyway?"

Shane sighed and furiously wiped blood from his lips.

"Paul believes that Bret is behind everything… Austin Payne gave Bret's name to Steve… And I freaking know it wasn't Bret, dad. But… As usual… Paul believes whatever he's told. And it's really fucking pissing me off." Shane stated through gritted teeth as he rubbed at his hair.

The corner of Vince's mouth quirked up in a semi-smirk as he tried to figure out what Shane was saying.

"How do you know it wasn't Bret? I mean… Austin Payne told Steve it was… How do you know he's lying?"

By the time Vince was done talking, Shane had stopped rubbing at his hair (which now made him look like he got his finger caught in an outlet) and had resumed wiping blood from his lips.

"David told me…" Shane mumbled; shocked that Vince was able to hear him at all.

"Who the hell is David," Vince asked.

Shane looked over at his father and frowned.

"Oh. A dead guy. Shane, this thing is going too far…" Vince's voice trailed off when he saw the look of anger on Shane's face.

"He's not just any dead guy, dad. He happens to be Paul's guardian. And he's fucking pissed at what Paul is doing,"

Vince continued staring at his son; not really believing his words. He thought Shane had made hundreds of imaginary friends to avoid being lonely as a child… However, when he continued to mention names, places and things he possibly couldn't have known well into his adult life, Vince thought he was psychologically disturbed. He never thought his son was serious about these things. He couldn't be… Could he?

He watched as the expression on Shane's face hardened. His eyes glazed over for a moment and almost looked blue to him. Shane turned to look at Vince and jumped back in mock-horror, making Vince raise an eyebrow.

"Come on, old man. Let's get the 'ell outta here and find that son of a bitch."

Shane jumped up and walked away, making Vince quickly stand up and leave money on the table. He ran off to find Shane, who was currently standing in front of the door, tapping his foot uncharacteristically. Shane spun around and walked through the door as gracefully as a dancer would. Vince stopped and stared at the retreating figure of his son… That was when it dawned on him…

Did he just speak to me in an English accent?

Paul made it back to the hotel in less than 5 minutes, which had to be a record for him. He stormed up the stairs, completely forgetting that the hotel had a working elevator, and slammed himself into the door of his hotel room. It took him several moments to realize that he had a key card and he had to use it in order to get into the room. Paul unlocked the door and walked in; narrowing his eyes angrily to see the room was completely dark. He put the main light on and saw Shawn sleeping on his bed. Bret was sitting on the other bed, texting on his cell phone. He looked up at Paul.

"Hey there, Paul. Shawn had a migraine, so I closed the blinds and shut the lights out. You might want to buy some Excedrin Migraine for him… It seemed to have worked," He stated.

Paul stormed up to him, pulled him off the bed and rammed him up against the wall.

"Ow! Paul? What the fuck are you doing?" Bret shouted, trying to get away from Paul.

"I KNOW about what you did to Shawn… Your involvement in this whole little scheme to kill him. You won't get away with what you did, Bret. I'm gonna call the cops and your ass is going to get arrested."

Bret raised an eyebrow.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He asked.

Paul rolled his eyes.

"Don't play dumb with me, Bret. Steve just called and told us all about how Austin Payne gave up your name as an accomplice. Are you going to tell me he's lying?" Paul asked.

"Steve isn't lying. He's only relaying the lie that Austin Payne told him. Honestly, Paul. If I was in on it, would I have been so quick to give up Payne's name?"

Paul didn't think about it like that. And it made him wonder if Austin Payne was telling the truth or not.

A/N: You know my whole usual 'w00t w00t, another chapter completed' thing? Well, I'm not going to do it this time. I'm going to say that I'm happy this semester of school is finished and I have nearly 4 full months to work on all of my lovely FanFictions.

I received a review of chapter 35 in which the reviewer, the ever so loyal alliegirl4life, said that she had a hard time understanding who was talking in the chapter. Did anyone else have that problem? I'd be glad to fix it if I knew which areas were troubling.

In the next few days, or maybe even a week, the Sherlock Holmes FanFiction I'm working on with my friend Kat will be posted onto the website. Be sure to check it out if you're a fan.

Shane is a rather interesting human being, isn't he?

The title of the chapter, 'Flying Head First Into Fate' is a line in the song 'Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I'm Falling,' by Louis Hobson, Alice Ripley, J. Robert Spencer, Jennifer Damiano & Aaron Tveitfrom the Next to Normal Soundtrack.