TITLE: My Enemy's Enemy (6/?)
AUTHOR: Bellerophon
EMAIL: bellerophon_666@hotmail.com
CATEGORY: WWF
DISCLAIMER: I don't own these characters, nor do I claim to.
DISTRIBUTION: Anyone can have this story as long as they ask first.
RATING: PG-13
SUMMARY: What could've happened during the whole Alliance debacle.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:This doesn't follow any particular time line, I've kinda taken artistic license and made a whole lot of stuff up. But hey, it's fiction so I'm allowed. It should become clear what's going on as the story progress's. Team Xtreme are still together, E&C have broken up, Jericho hasn't been the Undisputed Champion and the whole alliance thing is still going on. Make sense? Don't worry, I'm sure it will sooner or later. Thanks to everyone who offered to beta for me when I asked and also to those of you who have helped me with finding out a whole lot of stuff I didn't know. Also, apologies to Karen because I keep forgetting rules. I'll try not to break any this time.
CHAPTER 6
Walking to the Alliance locker rooms, Test chatted idly with Tori about the women training. Apparently Stacey Kiebler was impossible to teach because she only wanted to learn moves which showed off her eye catching body. Test tried to muster up a suitably interested expression. It was fairly difficult seeing as he was stuck somewhere between impotent rage and rampant nervousness running like quicksilver through his veins. Somehow, he didn't think that Christian was the only one who would receive a beating tonight.
Test winced slightly thinking about that. Christian had only been about five feet away from him but he might as well have been on the other side of the world for all Test could do to help him. The outlook for Christian's night had never been good, going into a match with a severe hangover and a badly bruised back. Of course, Rhyno and the Dudley idiots hadn't improved it any. But at least the APA came down and prevented him from going through a table. Test mused on that fact, deciding Vince must've been paying their beer money. No way they'd get off their fat asses for free.
And now it was him and Rob. Probably busted too, but they couldn't take the chance of leaving. Triple H still hadn't revealed who the WWF insiders were and that was pretty fucking vital information. Something most people would consider more important than his health and safety, at least.
He tried to look ahead at Rob without looking suspicious. RVD was walking with Lance Storm and laughing with him. Test wrinkled his nose in disdain. Lance Storm had the personality of a brick wall and the face to go with it. Shaking his head, Test nodded a goodbye to Tori and pushed open the door to his locker room. The light switch was on the other side of the room and as Test walked over to turn it on, his door slammed shut. He jumped in shock before swearing as his shin made contact with a foreign object. Hopping over to the wall whilst holding his leg with one hand, Test eventually found the switch and flipped it, revealing a room filled with about five other people.
Test stood stock still for a moment, leg still in hand, then smiled weakly. "Hey Hunter. How's things?"
"Well, I find myself feeling a little unsatisfied. I sat backstage watching your buddy Christy get the crap kicked out of him and, truthfully, I couldn't help but wish I was out there too. It's been awhile since I made someone bleed but my boy Rhyno did almost as bang up a job as I could've." Triple H smiled at Test with all the warmth of a snake.
"Yeah, it was, uh…" Test tried to put away his shock, "…it was pretty kick-ass. That blonde punk got what was coming to him." Test hoped Triple H was as brain dead as he looked.
"He certainly did. And you know what? He's not the only blonde punk who we owe a beating to." Triple H gestured to someone behind Test's back but before he could turn around, he was in a sleeper hold with a cloth held over his mouth. Test struggled in vain and as he breathed in. he choked on the noxious fumes emanating from the rancid piece of material. As blackness descended, he identified the chemical mix of Chloroform. The chemical favoured by wrestlers all over the world when kidnapping someone.
"You should've known better, Test." The voice sounded like it was coming from miles away, smothered by a thickness of mind. "This is all your own doing. And you could've been great, too."
Great?…I'm small time…What does Trip want me for? I don't…know anything…I'm not…important…
******
Stephanie dialled the number again, gritting her teeth as the ring tone echoed in her ear. Test still wasn't picking up. It wasn't really surprising. The Alliance members often went out for drinks after shows and she hadn't told Test she was going to call him. Still, she had an ominous feeling. If Hunter knew about Christian… She let it ring about fifteen times before hanging up. She had long ago lost count of how many times she had tried to contact Test. After the third time, she had decided not to ring any more. Five minutes later she had picked up her phone and tried again. It was pointless yet addictive, especially in the oppressive atmosphere of the hospital.
Not only was Test incommunicado but Lita was driving Stephanie crazy. The red head had pulled her off Jeff before she even got a decent shot at him then spent the car ride to the hospital making speeches about how she should've told them blah blah blah. Stephanie had ignored her after a while, replaying the whole horrific scene in her head. She could've prevented it too. Christian didn't need to stay behind. She should've made him come with her. Test was such a face that no one would expect him to be working against them. And Rob was Mr Monday Night, the Whole F'n Show. He had it made with the Alliance. Christian, on the other hand, was just one of the guys. Not that he would be that welcome in the WWF but then again, neither was she. She still managed to deal with being there.
Jericho had been…well, almost nice. If that was at all believable. He had kept Lita away from her. He had kept all the WWF-ers away from her, in fact. It was like he knew how much the sight of them irritated her. They were all sitting there, acting concerned for Christian. What a load of crap! None of them liked him in the least. If Edge was here he probably would've beaten them up for even pitying his hapless brother. But then Edge had flat out refused to even go near the hospital. He had left the room and walked away. Stephanie didn't know what to think about him. That whole Edge and Christian saga was too weird for words, anyway.
Stephanie began pacing back and forth along the hospital hallway. The occupants of the otherwise deserted ER eyed her and considered privately if asking her politely to sit down and stop muttering obscenities and threats would result in a shoe being thrown at their head. Most decided against that course of action and continued whispering to each other about the events of the night.
Matt, Lita and Farooq were trying to figure out where Jeff could possibly have been hiding. During the aftermath of Christian's attack Stephanie had gone on a mini rampage, accusing everyone and their dog of instigating the attack. In one mad attempt to vent her frustrations, she began clouting Jeff over the head with her bag, allegedly for fighting Christian in a match. Jeff had taken one glance of her eyes, recognised that evil look and had bolted. He hadn't been seen since, although Matt had gotten one quick phone call from a pay phone.
Bradshaw had seated himself inside the room where the doctors were treating Christian, refusing to leave. Upon threats of security being called, he stared the doctors down and stated in no uncertain terms that Christian was an investment in their future. If anything happened to him, Bradshaw would not be getting his beer money and the doctors would not be leaving the hospital unharmed. Farooq had just laughed jovially and pointed out to Matt and Lita that Bradshaw had lost all his beer money in a high stakes game of poker and hadn't seen a cold one in a few days. Matt and Lita kept their distance from the big texan after that.
Chris was currently trying to get his money back from the machine that had taken it without giving out a candy bar in return.
The door to Christian's room opened and the doctor, followed by a grinning Bradshaw walked out of it.
"Well Farooq, looks like I got myself some means to get my money back," He slapped his partner's back and walked down the hallway to the pay phone. "Gonna call Vince and let him know the pretty boy will live to see another beating."
Stephanie pushed past Farooq. "Out of my way, Lunkhead." She stared at the doctor earnestly. "So? How's the blonde moron doing?"
The doctor backed up a few steps and rubbed his ears. She certainly was screechy. "Your friend will be fine. Eventually. Discounting the massive bruising to his back and his wrenched neck which apparently happened before he was beaten~"
The doctor was interrupted by Stephanie holding up her hand, "La di da tell me later. Can I go in and see him?"
The doctor waved her in and she closed the door without a backward look behind her.
Dr Whiteside continued to the others. "His injuries include three cracked ribs, a torn tendon in his right ankle and seven stitches for the cut on his head. There are other minor injuries but all together, combined with a concussion, are pretty serious."
"Will he need to stay in the hospital for very long?" Lita questioned.
"Well, he would if we could keep him here. As soon as he regained consciousness he demanded to be given a phone and the pen and paper to sign himself out. If he listens to medical advice, I'd keep him in for at least a week for observation but I'm guessing he won't be doing that." The doctor sighed. He'd actually gotten used to wrestlers coming through the ER doors, with a training ground not far from the hospital. They were all stupid S.O.B.'s who never listened to him.
"If he does sign himself out, will it be dangerous for his health?" Matt asked, with the very surreal feeling that it was Christian, the guy who had hit him over the head god knows how many times with a chair, it was Christian that he was asking these concerned questions about. Jeez, things had gotten weird. First of all Stephanie was helping them and now *this*?
"Not if he gets plenty of bed rest and doesn't aggravate his injuries." The doctor sighed and shook his head. "I can prescribe some mild pain killers which he will be needing." He pulled a writing pad out a pocket in his white overcoat and scribbled something down. "Take this to the attending nurse and they'll fix you up." He ripped the sheet of paper off and thrust it at Lita, who hesitantly held it. "If you'll excuse me, I have others to tend to." The doctor walked off in a hurry.
Lita eyed the sheet of paper. "Matt, be a dear and go get this medication for me." She held it out to her boyfriend.
"Pfff, I don't think so." Matt held his hands up. "The doc gave that to you. He obviously recognised gopher potential in you."
"Do you think I won't beat you up?"
"I know you can't beat me up."
"Like hell I can't, but whatever…"
"Both you little punks can go get the damn pills! Je-sus!" Farooq snapped. He never did like listening to kids argue.
Matt and Lita eyed the beefy man and took off together, both giggling and whispering before they were even around the corner.
Chris rolled his eyes and Farooq ignored them. "Jericho, can you watch heckle and jeckle," he indicated to Christian's room, " in there while I go find Bradshaw. I'll be damn lucky if he hasn't already left to get the money and find the nearest bar."
Chris snorted and nodded. "Yeah, it's cool. No one's gonna come after us here. It's all public and everything."
"Thanks man," Farooq slapped Chris's back, nearly sending him flying, and walked away. Chris rubbed his back and winced before sitting down in one of plastic hospital issue chairs. He tapped his hands against the plastic arm rests and tried to get comfortable in the terminally uncomfortable seat.
*******
Stephanie closed the door behind her and frowned down on the motionless man on the bed. Sighing, she walked over and sat beside him. She couldn't tell if Christian was awake or not but her unvoiced question was answered when Christian groaned and rolled his head to face her.
"Hey Steph." Christian said quietly. "How are you?"
"Well, I haven't been had the shit beaten out of me. How are you feeling by the way?" Stephanie retorted. Damn, if Christian didn't piss her off sometimes. Especially when she had just spent about an hour actually worrying about him.
"Eh, I've been worse," he coughed and winced. " But when I figure out which one of those skeazoids cut my beautiful face, there are gonna be some serious ramipercussions."
"Oh don't worry, Crusty. You still look your usual annoying self." Stephanie smirked.
"That's really nice of you. Thanks a freaking bunch." Christian pouted. "And don't call me Crusty."
Stephanie gave a short laugh before turning serious. "The doctor said you were trying to sign yourself out before."
"So?"
"So is your head on backwards or something? Like you're in any condition to be taking care of yourself. I'm certainly not going to look after you and I wouldn't entrust a sick dog to the Hardys or Jericho." Stephanie grabbed his hands. "You need to stay here until you can walk around by yourself."
Christian had been nodding mockingly up until that point. "Yeah. Doctor Snitch told me about my ankle tendon. I'm gonna need rehab and physio."
"Good. Gets you out of my hair for a while."
"You are the sweetest person ever." Christian squeezed her hands in his.
"Yeah, well, don't go spreading that around. I have a reputation to keep," Stephanie glared at the blonde.
Christian smiled cheekily back. "Please. Like anyone would believe you're anything but a bitch. Mostly, that's all you are so your secret is safe with me."
Stephanie nodded and smiled weakly. Christian would normally have not noticed her distraction or wouldn't have cared but right now they were in pretty confined spaces. "What's the go? You look like you need a cuddle." He would've held his arms out except when he moved, the room blurred. He was a bit afraid he might accidentally smack Stephanie in the head.
"Don't touch me. I don't know where you've been." Stephanie turned nasty in an attempt to get Christian's attention away from her. Then she felt bad seeing as he was lying in a hospital bed because of her. "Look, not right now okay. I'll talk about it later."
"Whatever, dudette." Christian shrugged as well as he could.
"That reminds me. How in hell did you get those bruises on your back?" Stephanie questioned.
Christian grinned. Story telling time. "Well, it was a starry clear night…George Bush was giving another inspiring, sleep inducing speech…and Britney Spears, she was teaching the nation how to sing…"
********
Edge walked quietly down the hospital hallway. It was pretty empty, with it being so late in the night. Stephanie, Jericho and all his cronies had gone back to the hotel. In fact, he'd seen them arrive there himself. Stephanie and Jericho bickering and trading insults, Matt and Lita all over each other, Jeff wearing some sort of weird disguise. Who knew what that idiot was thinking. He'd left as soon as he'd seen them arrive. Edge hadn't been able to stay still since he left the arena. He'd drunk about four cups of coffee and gone for about fifteen elevator trips. All that had done was make him remember hotel pranks him and Christian had played on other wrestlers and riding up and down the elevator all night. But that was before…
So he'd seen the others come back to the hotel and he'd left. He didn't need Stephanie chewing him out about not seeing his brother. Like that chumpstain even wanted to see him anyways. But he'd gone for a walk and ended up at the hospital somehow. Bad luck, Edge guessed. But as he stood outside the hospital, he found himself staring up at it, wondering…
So now here he was. Standing outside his stupid brother's room, not wanting to go in and see him but somehow unable to leave and walk away again. Bradshaw was asleep outside the door. Edge figured he could get past the big texan without him waking up. And his brother would probably be asleep. He could go in and see Christian without anyone knowing. And what the hell was he thinking? He wasn't going to see Christian. He didn't care about Christian. Christian could give himself a one man conchairto for all Edge cared.
So Edge repeated to himself that he was having a mental relapse to the days when he actually cared about his brother to explain the fact that he was gingerly sliding past the snoring Bradshaw and through the now open door. He shut it carefully behind him and eyed the prone body on the bed. Weird. His brother looked a lot more fragile than he ever had before. Edge didn't really remember his brother ever looking too fragile. Even when he'd had a singles match against Kane and had the shit beaten out of him. It was just weird.
But then Edge had always forgotten that Christian was a lot smaller than him. Christian had always gone to the same limit as him, had always tried as hard.
And he was still the same back stabbing asshole that he'd turned into when he gave Edge the infamous one man conchairto. Edge didn't really need to remind himself of that moment. It was indelibly printed in his memory. He went back over it anyway. The sudden crack of the cold chair, the ringing in his hair, the cold anger in his brothers eyes. The overwhelming confusion and disbelief that had swept over him. For a while, when he was concussed, he apparently kept asking where Christina was and why Christian wasn't with him, bitching about their opponents and coming up with a most excellent plan of revenge. That was what the medics told him anyway. Edge wasn't sure he believed them. All he remembered from the immediate time after the match was blurry people and a throbbing head.
Edge sighed and sat down across from the bed. He covered his face with his hands, not sure whether he wanted Christian to wake so he could yell at him or stay unconscious so he wouldn't even know Edge had ever been there. Edge was pretty sure he'd rather just make a clean get away. He stood up and took two cautious steps closer to the bed. Then one more. Then a kinda half step that showed Edge just how much he didn't want to get near Christian. He was just chicken shit scared. He chewed on his lower lip and tried to figure out what his intent was in coming up to the room. No luck though , his intent just didn't want to show itself. Dammit. Edge was so jonesin' for a deep, introverted, thoughtful, meaningful relevation too.
Shaking his head, Edge turned away. It was pointless coming here and it was pointless trying to figure out his brother. Christian was just a psycho and that's all there was to it. Edge planned on leaving the room and not looking back. Unfortunately, the fates had conspired against him.
Edge opened the door and immediately heard Bradshaw murmuring low dangerous words to his business partner, Farooq. Edge paused when he heard Triple H's gravelly voice, not wanting to interrupt any ass kicking that might be happening, but as he listened, he realised the ass kicking had not yet begun. Triple H was now talking to Bradshaw, telling him to move out of the way. Triple H said laughingly that he just wanted to apologise to Christian and ask him a few questions. Bradshaw was not appreciative of the humour.
Edge swore under his breath. He could leave now and walk away. That would be nice and easy and probably wouldn't involve him receiving any bruises, but…
Then Triple H struck out at Bradshaw. The fight was on. Edge peeked around the door and came face to face with Farooq.
"Look boy, things are gonna get hairy round these parts soon, once nancy boy here calls for reinforcements. Get your bimbo brother outta here." Farooq ordered.
"How did you know I was…?" Edge trailed off. Farooq snorted as he watched Bradshaw take down Triple H. "Not much gets past Bradshaw. You didn't think he was really sleeping, did you?"
Edge coloured slightly and then thought of something else. "Is Christian even allowed out of the hospital?"
"Sure. Why not." Farooq moved slightly to avoid Bradshaw's arm as he swung a chair. "He's not dying or anything."
"Er…okay then." Edge said weakly. He wasn't completely sure this wasn't the best idea, but Triple H's ferocious face and the cell phone he held in his hand didn't bode well for Christian's situation. Farooq and Bradshaw couldn't hold off everyone who would arrive and while Edge didn't think he should really care about whether his brother had the snot beaten out of him, again, he figured he should probably help out. If only the fact that the news that he left without helping would probably, no definitely get back to Stephanie made up his mind.
He moved quickly to the bed and hefted the covers off the bed, not bothering to wake his brother up. Instead, he just picked Christian up and started walking, stopping only to go back and retrieve the bottle of pills which had rattled their way to the floor. He kicked the door open and walked out past security guards and protesting medical staff and also Bradshaw and Farooq as they held Triple H face down on the floor. Edge tried to run quickly in the opposite direction so Triple H wouldn't know he had taken Christian.
Edge ran slowly into an open elevator and nudged the close doors button with his elbow. The doors closed and then Bradshaw and Farooq grinned and let Triple H get up. Mission accomplished. The blonde moron was safe for the time being.
***********
"I'm right and you know it!"
Stephanie pouted as she went to open the pounding on the door. Jericho was being an ass, like always, and seemed to think he had won their latest spat. Well, she'd show him. She opened the door to their hotel room and stared at what was before her.
Edge was standing there huffing and puffing, holding a moaning semi conscious Christian in his arms, with a look of wild disbelief in his eyes.
"Can I come in?" Edge panted. "My arms are numb and this fucker is damn heavy."
Stephanie nodded mutely. Things had taken a turn for the weird.
*******
Hey hey people. Sorry this has taken so long to get out. I've had a few run ins with school tests and whatnot so all in all I'm quietly going insane. Not to fear, my adoring fans, I will be continuing this fic.
SPOILER: Next week on My Enemy's Enemy…ha fooled you, no spoiler. It's getting kind of pointless, considering my spoilers always end up being wrong. Oh well. I just have no idea what the next chapter will be about. I do guaran-damn-tee some real Smoochy Dreamer stuff next chapter for all you Steph/Jericho lovers. Hopefully now I've said that, I will also write that in the chapter.
Also, I'm going away for about two weeks but oh when I get back…. Fics aplenty from me ohhhh yeah. Next chapter for this little ficlet, a little ditty I have titled 'Poetry In Motion' (very original title I know) about the Hardys breakup, but different this time. Oh so different because in my fic Matt isn't the bad guy, shock gasp Jeff is. Oooooooh. And whatever else my sick sick sick mind comes up with.
I also want everyone to know I now have the worlds most wonderful best fantastic collection of WWF quotes. Should anyone need or want some, give me a ball and I'll see what I can do.
For now, this is the one and only Bellerophon signing off…
