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Disclaimer: I own none of these characters.
Kaleidoscope
Chapter 2: Birds of a Feather
by katanashi
Note: Again, none of this happened. Matt didn't go to the hospital =D.
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It was a well-known fact that Jeff hated hospitals with a passion. He fought to stay out of them with tooth and nail, even when it was obvious he needed help. Once, when he'd fractured his leg a little more than a year ago, it took both Matt and Chris Jericho to drag Jeff to the emergency room, who'd been kicking and screaming blue murder the whole time. In light of that passionate dislike, it was a testament to Jeff's love for Matt that he was actually sitting in the emergency waiting room, slouching in his chair and waiting for Amy to come back so he'd have someone to talk with.He shivered. Maybe it was the air conditioning, or maybe it was the blandness of the air that he sucked in. Or maybe it was the memories of being wheeled into an emergency room just like this one, unable to move his legs, with the world going about in a frenzy around him. It had scared him to death. He actually thought he might die.
He glanced at Amy, who bit her lip. Heaven knew what was going through her mind. She had to be worried to death about Matt, but she wasn't showing it.
Jeff frowned slightly. He was worried, too, but now that worry wasn't influenced by panic. Matt had a pretty bad fall, but Amy was right-- it wasn't life-threatening. For that much, Jeff was grateful. He didn't know what he'd do without his big brother.
Still, Matt had taken a very long fall, from a fifteen-foot ladder. Adding that to the height of the ring itself and the impact which he'd hit the ropes, there was no telling what kind of damage could have been caused. Broken ribs, skull fractures, snapped neck bones-- they were all possibilities. From the paleness on Amy's face, Jeff knew she was thinking about the same thing. If Matt had been injured severely enough, he would be forced to retire. That possibility spawned a whole new deal of problems, but Jeff didn't want to think about them until they became reality. Just the thought of Matt being forced to retire made him sick to his stomach.
But now, all they could do was wait. After several minutes of sitting down, Amy had made a beeline to the front desk, where she was now stuck behind several other people. At the sight of the fiery redheaded diva standing impatiently in line, tapping her foot and puffing her cheeks restlessly, Jeff had to smile. Amy never liked to just stand around; even when she and Matt went to the movies, she'd usually stalk around and look at movie posters while Matt waited in line for the tickets.
Jeff sighed and pulled his baseball cap farther down over his head. Most of his hair was tucked up in the cap, but a few strands had escaped. They were enough so that people noticed, but not enough for Jeff to make the effort to redo his hair, so he was stuck with some hair hanging out. The people here didn't recognize him-- which he was grateful for-- but at the same time they seemed to dislike his purple hair. One old woman with a young girl in tow gave him a disapproving look as if to say, "What are young people these days thinking?" Jeff shrugged and squirmed uncomfortably at all the distastefully curious glances people directed at him. So he liked to play around with hair colors. Big deal. He just yanked the hat down even farther and slouched as much as he could, trying to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.
As he glanced at his hands, however, he realized that it probably wasn't just his hair; he had painted his all his nails purple last night. He stuck his hands in his pockets quickly, blushing beneath his cap.
"Jeff, what are you doing?" Amy was standing in front of him, hands on hips and eyebrows raised.
He straightened quickly, then remembered his hair and hunched over again. "Nuthin'," he mumbled.
Amy rolled her eyes. "Right." She shoved him hard to make him sit up and sat down next to him. "If you stoop anymore you'll turn into that guy that lives on Notre Dame."
"Quasimodo," Jeff supplied. "I do not stoop that much," he added, sticking his lip out in an indignant pout and turning to face her. In doing so, his cap fell off to the floor, letting his colorful hair spill out.
The blush on his face spread like wildfire until his entire face was red. He could feel multiple pairs of eyes turning and fixating on his head, making the skin of his neck prickle in a peculiar way. It made him feel weird. He didn't know whether to give a foolish grin or to just pretend nothing happened. And he didn't exactly want to reach down and get his hat; he had a feeling that his purple hair was a lot more forgivable than his purple nails. He looked at Amy pleadingly.
Amy couldn't keep the smile tugging at her mouth in as she retrieved his cap, bundled up his hair, and stuck the cap on his head. Only she did a much better job than he could ever hope to do. Every purple strand was safely hidden from view.
"I knew I should have gotten you nail polish for your birthday," she teased him gently. "All the sparkly purple polish I once had is all gone because you always borrow it from me."
"I buy my own," Jeff pointed out.
"Then why are you so embarassed?" Amy asked.
Jeff shifted uncomfortably. "Um…" How was he supposed to tell her something that he didn't even understand himself? He had never been embarassed of his colorful nature before. "I just feel like I don't belong," he said at last. "I mean, with my hair and nails…"
"I know," Amy said, surprising him.
Jeff looked at her doubtfully. "Really?"
Amy nodded. "Yeah. That's why I pulled my pants up and grabbed a jacket on my way out. I don't think people here would take kindly to a slut." She lowered her voice on the last few words, obviously bothered by their meanings.
"You're not a slut," Jeff exclaimed, barely remembering to keep his voice soft. "You know you're not one, and you know Matt and I don't think of you that way either."
Amy shrugged. "But these people are ultra conservative. Just look at the way they all dress. I bet even a low tanktop would be like a sign that says, 'slut'. And then there's me. Thong underwear showing, low-cut halter top, and a tattoo that covers my entire shoulder."
"You can't possibly think you're one." Jeff sounded totally amazed, and not in a good way.
"I don't think I'm one. But I know there's people out there who consider me one. People who ask me how can I be a good role model when I dress provocatively, with my underwear showing. Some people even have said that all I'm doing is being a sex symbol." Amy was trying to sound nochalant, but from the catch in her voice, Jeff could tell that this bothered her. A lot.
He hunched over. "Amy, why didn't you ever tell us?"
"Because it wasn't a big deal at first. It seemed so trivial, and we all had so much to do. I tried not to let it bother me." She laughed bitterly. "I didn't think it would bother me. I've been called worse-- a lot worse. But it did. It got to the point where I couldn't stand looking at myself in the mirror, because all I'd see is just that-- a slut. And you know, it sucked. Ever since I met you guys and I came into the WWF, I always felt beautiful. Not because people told me I was beautiful, but because they treated me like I was beautiful. I felt gorgeous, successful, and on top of the world. And then I got these letters--"
"What letters?"
"Just some fanmail, I guess. Some fans they were, though. They must have been from a parent."
"What did they say?"
"Just stuff like, you're putting bad images of what's cool in our kids' minds, what has this generation sunk to and it's all the fault of people like you, why can't you at least dress decently, etc." Amy tried to smile. "It really doesn't seem like such a big deal now, huh?"
"Amy, that's only a few people," Jeff pointed out. "You know how many letters I get asking what the heck am I thinking dyeing my hair like a lunatic? I even got a letter asking if I was trying to ruin my life because of what they called my 'stupid' moves. You should go to college, you should do this, you should do that. I ripped them up and tossed them in the trash. I don't care what they think. I'm happy where I am and I love my job. Whose life is it, anyway?" He nudged her. "Don't you feel the same way?"
She sighed. "Yeah, I do. But at the same time, I do care what people think of me. Maybe it's just a girl thing, and maybe it's just me, but I always wish that people would just…I don't know, just see past my looks."
"A lot of people like your looks." Jeff absently toyed with the hem of his shirt, twisting it around and trying to make patterns with the wrinkles. "And a lot of people don't."
Amy looked away. "Thanks a lot, Jeff." The sarcasm was mixed with underlying hurt.
"I'm serious. I'm not saying you're ugly, Amy. I think you're really pretty. I'm just saying you can't please everyone. I mean, some girls think I'm cute, right?"
"A lot of girls think you're cute," Amy said. She regretted the words a moment later as she realized how over-inflated his ego would become.
"You'd be surprised to learn how many girls actually like me for me. Not too many, to say the least." Jeff grinned weakly. "And I've heard people say I look like a demon when the light angle's right, or a rainbow freak-head. It bothers me, but there isn't anything I can do about it. And you're lucky that your boyfriend could care less what you look like."
"I know. Matt's wonderful."
Jeff half-gagged. "Yeah, I know. That's all I've heard my whole life, but at least I believe it. Speaking of Matt…" He glanced over at the hallway leading to the rest of the hospital nervously. "When can we see him?"
"The nurse said they're just getting him set up in his room."
"How is he?"
Amy heard the same anxious note of worry in Jeff's voice. 'He cares about Matt so much,' she marveled. She'd never seen a pair of siblings, even twins, who were bound together so strongly. If Jeff and Matt were Siamese twins they couldn't have been more attatched than they already were. "They said he's awake and talking," she said at last.
Jeff's face lit up like a kid seeing his first Disneyland parade. "Matt woke up?"
Amy nodded. "Sorry I didn't tell you earlier." She fingered her hair. "I was kind of wrapped up on myself."
"Amy Dumas?" The nurse called. "The doctor would like to talk to you."
Amy stood and began to walk. "Come on, that means we can visit Matt now." She motioned irritably for Jeff to get up. Jeff stood after some hesitation, then began to walk slowly. He was obviously still hurting from the TLC match and she felt a twinge of guilt at her impatience.
Jeff caught up to her. "What made you feel that way all of sudden? Somebody say something bad to you in the line?" he asked.
"No, just the disgusted looks I was getting was enough to get the message across." Amy's tone indicated that it had clearly bothered her.
"Eh, don't mind them. Here, if it makes you feel better--" Jeff stood up, yanked off his cap, and stuck it crookedly on Amy's head. He shook his purple hair loose and grinned. "How's that?"
Amy adjusted the cap so it was backwards. It made her look, as Peter (Tazz) would say, "thuggish." She grinned. She and Peter joked around a lot, which was why he always talked about how hot she was when he was commentating. She turned to face Jeff. "Perfect." She leaned out and hugged him. "Thank you," she added in a soft voice.
Jeff shrugged. "It's no problem. If they're gonna stare at us, they'll stare at us together." He scratched his neck with his hand, purple nails glinting in the light.
"Jeff, your nails…"
He blushed and stuck his hands in his pockets again. As Amy began to laugh, his blush only grew. "I don't want to be too much of a freak."
Amy smiled at him fondly. 'What would we do without Jeff?' she thought as they continued to follow the nurse down the hall. Who else could be such a wacky and impetuous, yet sensitive and caring individual? He made them laugh. He was there to listen. He scared them to death with those crazy moves.
'He's just…Jeff.' And with that thought, Amy knew she didn't want an answer to her earlier question. A world without Jeff would seem so black and white.
"Ms. Dumas? And Mr. Hardy?" A middle-aged man stood in front of them in a white lab coat, peering over steel-rimmed spectacles at them.
"Yes, that's us." Amy answered for the both of them.
The doctor smiled. "I'm Dr. Livingston, the head and neck specialist."
Amy turned white. "You're the head and neck specialist?" she repeated rather faintly as Jeff's eyes narrowed.
Dr. Livingston nodded calmly. "Don't you two have heart attacks now," he said in a comforting voice. "I'm not checking on him due to any emergency. He does have a sore neck, a concussion, and some bruised ribs, but he'll be fine. I was here to make sure that his neck won't give him problems in the future."
Jeff breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank goodness," he said.
"However, I should warn you that his concussion was fairly serious," Dr. Livingston continued. "He hit his head near or even on the temple."
"The temple?" Jeff blinked, confused.
"It's the dent on the side of your head," Amy told him, poking him playfully but not enough to hurt.
"Yes, and it is also the thinnest region of the skull." The doctor nodded to them. "He may have occassional memory lapses in the next few weeks, but they should occur less and less frequently until they altogether disappear."
"But he'll be okay?" Jeff pressed.
"Yes, he'll eventually return to one hundred percent. But until then--" The doctor didn't get the chance to finish as Jeff practically slammed through the door.
Amy smiled apologetically to the doctor. "They're brothers," she said simply, as if it explained it all.
The doctor smiled. "Yes, I know." His warm tone indicated he did indeed understand, beyond the identical last names he had seen on paper.
"Well…thanks for taking care of Matt." Amy stuck her hand out awkwardly.
"It was a pleasure," Dr. Livingston said, shaking her hand. "I always like it when patients make full recovery. I have to check on another patient, but I'll have my nurse detail his medication and care to you two. Make sure to follow them strictly," he added with a waggle of his finger. "Otherwise, serious consequences could result."
Amy nodded. "I will. Thanks again." She turned and was about to head in when the door was jerked open and Jeff came out, lower lip sticking out in a pout.
Amy bit her own lip to keep in a giggle. "What's wrong now?"
Jeff glanced at her, his pout not fading one bit. "Matt's asleep."
Amy burst out into laughter. "Already?!" she exclaimed. "It's only--" Her face fell as she glanced at her watch. "Uh, only twelve thirty," she finished lamely.
"Yeah, and I think we already stretched nerves being here so late. We aren't supposed to even be here past nine-- at least, that's what some nurse told me before she kicked me out." Jeff kicked at the floor. "I guess they took pity on us since we were both so worried and we got here at ten something anyway."
Amy sighed. "Well, at least we know he's alright," she reminded him gently. "How did he look?"
"Normal. Only, his head was to the side, his mouth was open, and he was snoring and drooling a little." Jeff grinned a little. "Typical Matt behavior."
Amy groaned as she dragged him down the hall towards the door. "Jeff, that was not something I needed to know about my boyfriend." 'That is not something I want to wake up to,' she added to herself silently.
"Really?"
"Really."
The two shared identical smiles with each other on the way out.
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Author's Notes: I hope you enjoyed Amy's involvement, Annie! =D. I promise to have at least one Matt/Lita story coming up. Chapter 3 could take a little while, but I do promise to have it up soon. Until then, thanks for the support!
Comments and feedback always appreciated ^^.
Ja ne! ~katanashi
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