DISCLAIMER: I own nothing. The boys belong to themselves and the characters they portray to WWE and Vince McMahon. This is a work of fiction and I claim no knowledge of the actual events that went on in real life. The text in italics was transcribed from Hunter's promo on WWE RAW on 03/29/2010.
While I am here, backstage at RAW, I still have a hard time grasping the fact that it's done. Over. Just like that. I had been hell-bent on facing The Undertaker. Proving to him and myself that I could beat him after all. I had believed it with every fiber of my being. But I lost. I couldn't get the job done yesterday. I gave it all and yet it wasn't enough. I knew what I had been getting into when I put my career on the line and I won't go back on my word. When I leave this building, it'll be for good. As I am pondering this, I understand that I am at peace with it after all. It's bittersweet, yes. But at least I went out in a blaze of fire on the grandest stage of them all. And tonight I get to say goodbye.
Leaving the ring behind, I'll be able to come to terms with that. Leaving the people behind will be a whole different story.
Hunter's sitting across from me. He's usually never at a loss for words and has a knack for making every somber situation better. He cracks a joke - often at my expense, mind you – or simply gets me out of my own head by being himself. However, ever since last night, he's been awfully quiet. I can't help but feel like he's taking this harder than I am. I know better than to push him, though. He'll come around in his own time. Not that we still have much of that left right now, which I am painfully aware of.
After his stoic silence, I am almost surprised when he pushes himself off the bench in a sudden move and makes his way towards the door. Something is off, I just know.
"Hunter…"
Hand already on the knob, he hesitates. Just for a second, though. He doesn't even look back before he leaves.
I am staring at the door that has shut behind him and briefly wonder what just happened. It's not like I can do anything about it, but at the same time I can't shake off the feeling that something's up.
The monitor in the corner that has the show on mute catches my attention. There's a video package playing of me throwing Marty through the window of the Barber Shop and I cringe. In hindsight, that definitely wasn't one of my finest moments. Just then they cut to Hunter walking down the hall. I have no idea what he's going to do but my gut tells me I'd better follow him after all.
When I get to gorilla, Hunter's already out on the ramp. His music slowly fades out and I listen to him talk. About last night and how this is the end of an era. About the first time we met sixteen years ago. A smile tugs on my lips at the memory. He never lets me live down that first impression and even less my outfit at the time, no matter how often I remind him that those were the 90s.
When he continues, his tone changes, becomes more thoughtful.
"…Man, but we took on the world, didn't we, bud? A lot of times all we had was each other, but we took on the world. We fought everybody. We fought side by side, back to back, sometimes face to face, but we've always fought – for each other and with each other..."
Yes, we did. We've had our ups and down, at times we were utter bastards to each other. But when it came down to it and the storms had passed, it was us against the world. Against everybody. The past few years in particular. Closer than a lot of brothers. Closer… I shake my head and sigh. Fighting that growing lump in my throat, I find myself leaning back against the wall behind me for support.
"… it was me and Shawn and there was nothing tighter, man. If this is it, man, I just wanted to come out here before everything… Before everything else started tonight…"
There's a hitch in his voice and I am trying hard to keep my emotions in check myself. It doesn't seem like I am doing that much of a good job with it when my fingertips come back damp after raking a hand over my face. Deep down I know where he's going with this.
"Don't. Please don't." I whisper to myself, hoping despite hope that somehow he can hear me. We've always had this connection, we've always known what the other would say or do before he did. But I know it's silly to even think that. Willing him to hear that silent plea is futile unless either of us suddenly mastered the art of telepathy.
I gasp when he proceeds. Please, Hunter, don't ruin your life. And mine.
"…I just wanted to come out and say that there's something I've always wanted to say to Shawn and I've never said it. But I wanna say it now in front of the whole world…"
It wasn't Hunter who granted my wish, but some higher power must have listened. For an instant I'd been wondering if I might still make it in time to stop him if I hit the ground running. I hadn't even noticed Sheamus rush past me until I see him attack Hunter from behind, leaving him a mess on the floor.
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I should probably sprint out there and help Hunter, but I am frozen to the spot. Relief washes over me and I can't even feel bad about the fact. He didn't get to say it and that's all that matters.
Sheamus walks by with a wicked grin, almost daring me to do something, but quite honestly I couldn't care less about him. My eyes are still fixed on the screen while the trainers are tending to Hunter and are making sure he's alright. I see the wetness in the corner of his eyes and the haunted look on his face that everyone else will attribute to the shock of having just been hit with a steel pipe.
However, I know that's not the reason.
Quietly I retreat back to the private locker room I've been granted for the night. I know he'll come find me soon enough, but I can't bear to face him straight away. I need a moment. I assumed today would be hard, but now…
It doesn't take long enough until there's a knock and before I even acknowledge it, the door opens. It's Hunter, just like I knew it would be. There's a slight wince when he walks in and my worry takes over after all.
"Are you okay?" My initial question seems aimed at his physical state, but we are both aware it goes further than that. What were you thinking out there, Hunter? Why now?
He simply shrugs. "Nothing I can't handle."
I'm not so sure of that, but keep my mouth shut. Instead a heavy silence falls between us. We both seem to contemplate what to say next. I'm not exactly known for thinking before I speak, but I need to get this right, without making it even more difficult for either of us.
My voice sounds strange to my own ears when I finally address him, "Hunter…"
As he looks straight at me, all words almost die on my tongue. The haunted look from before has gone and been replaced by… Sadness? Resignation? To be honest, I can't tell.
"It's a good thing Sheamus interrupted you when he did, you know?" So maybe that wasn't the most sympathetic way to go about it, but it doesn't make it less true.
Hunter's own voice is low when he responds, "Is it?"
I take a step towards him. "It has to be." It's almost a whisper, but this seems to be the only volume either of us is able to muster right now.
For an instant I expect him to fight me on this, but then he just nods. His face tells a different story, but he lets it go.
By now we are standing almost too close for comfort and yet there's a distance suddenly neither of us can cross. He reaches out and gently touches my arm, drawing small circles with his thumb. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it, but it's such a familiar gesture. Our eyes meet and all that has to be left unsaid is clear as day in his amber ones. Words will always be just that between us. Words. But this…
The spell is broken by another knock and we quickly break apart. A young production assistant pokes his head in. "Mr. Michaels, you're on in ten."
I thank him and say I'll be there in a minute. The door closes and again it's just us. The atmosphere in the room has shifted, though. It feels like we are both able to breathe a little easier now.
"C'mon, get goin'. Don't leave the crowd waiting." Hunter gives me a tentative smile.
As I turn to leave, I look back once more. And I can only hope my eyes also convey all I wish I could say but won't.