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Jeff sat silently on his couch, his fingers laced through his hair, and waited for the asprin to kick in. The soreness was subsiding - it had been a few days since the fourth TLC match - but it did take a while to heal from being thrown from the ring through a table. Jeff had watched the footage later and seen the table shatter - like it was glass. He considered himself pretty lucky he didn't get stabbed with a plywood shard. Of course, it wasn't in his nature to worry about the outcomes before the match. He just watched the footage afterwards and thanked God after every ugly bump. He sighed, then winced - again. This was going to be a long day. Jeff turned sideways and layed face down on the couch, watching the blank TV that he had just turned off. He considered what to do to allieviate boredom next, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. With a grunt, he pushed himself off the couch and hobbled over to the front door.
"Jus' a second," He swung the door open and saw the last person he expected to see standing on his front porch. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was going to say something, but no noise came out. Matt watched him silently with tired eyes, as if he'd been stressed lately. Or maybe just too long on the road. Jeff took in the sight of his brother - he hadn't seen Matt in person since the night he cost him the IC title shot against RVD. Matt was still just watching him, looking almost sad, and resting his hands in his jean pockets. Finally, Jeff spoke. "Matt?"
"Can Ah come in?" Matt asked, raising his eyebrows with lazy expectance. Jeff stepped out of the way more quickly than he'd moved all week, and Matt came in the house, kicking his shoes off at the door.
"What's goin' on, man?" Jeff asked. The surprise still evident in his voice, but he was being more social than Matt had expected. Jeff followed Matt into the living room, where Matt sat down on one of the edge of one of the couches, almost nervously.
"Ah saw y'match on Monday," Matt announced clearly. Jeff sat down on the couch across from Matt and looked at his hands nervously. He figured Matt wouldn't be too happy about his fighting in a TLC match with someone else, but what was he supposed to do? Bischoff had threatened his job...
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Matt started again, quieter. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, then began his speech. "Look, Jeff, Ah'm sorry Ah interferred in y'match with RVD. It wasn't my place, an' Ah've rethought -"
"Don't worry about it, Matt," Jeff cut him off. "Ah understand why y'did it. Because of Bischoff. Ah didn't ask f'that match, you did."
Matt knitted his brow in confusion. "But y'coulda had a shot at th'IC title. Ah screwed ya out of it."
Jeff smiled genially. "Y'know how guilty Ah woulda felt if Ah won th'IC title with your title shot?"
Matt considered that for a second. "Wow, Jeff, Ah thought ya'd be pissed as hell at me."
"Nah, Ah forgave ya a long time ago. Ah might have done th'same in y'place."
Jeff flashed a smile at Matt, and Matt smiled back. "No y'wouldn't have. That's not like ya."
"Y'never know anymore," Jeff smirked. "Ah'm EXTREME!"
Matt laughed. "Well, Ah'm still sorry. It woulda been nice f'ya t'have another IC title reign on y'list. Y'coulda had one f'each of us, before that moron Bischoff gets rid of it completely."
Jeff chuckled quietly with Matt, then Matt sighed again. "An' Ah'm sorry Ah left ya. Ah shoulda had this conversation with ya before Ah signed with Stephanie."
"Of course, if ya woulda stayed on Raw, y'wouldn't have a winning record over 'Taker."
Matt looked back up to Jeff, a smile playing on his lips. "Never woulda expected that one, huh?"
"Man, you're kickin' ass an' takin' names over there."
"Yeah, SmackDown's been pretty good f'me," Matt sighed, and finally relaxed back into the couch. "Except one thing."
Jeff bit his bottom lip and waited for his brother to continue. He had a feeling that he knew what the one thing was.
"They want you, Jeff," Matt admitted, and took a shaky breath. "It's hard. Everytime Ah go out to th'ring, all Ah hear is 'We want Jeff.' Ah bust my ass, Ah try t'have good matches with th'Undertaker, Ah try t'explain myself t'my fans, but.... well, Ah jus' don't know if Ah have fans anymore."
Jeff jumped up and crossed the room to sit next to Matt. Matt tried to subtlely wipe his eyes before Jeff noticed, but Jeff noticed. Jeff took a deep breath then answered, "Ah'm y'fan, Matt."
There was a long moment of silence where Matt examined his hands. Jeff waited for some kind of response, or even for Matt to look at him. Finally, Matt took a deep breath and repeated into his hands, "Ah saw that TLC match."
Jeff nodded his head, also looking away from Matt. Matt took his time in continuing, but finally he said, "Y'looked good out there."
Jeff started examining his hands now, as Matt finally looked up at him. "You an' RVD almost had that thing won a couple times. If y'woulda hit that swanton on Bubba, Ah bet y'coulda won it."
Jeff smiled softly. "That always was th'problem, wasn't it? Ah was always jus' too focused on gettin' Bubba through a table. He got me this time."
Matt smiled, then looked up to his brother. Jeff noticed that his eyes looked glossy, like he was going to cry. But before he could speak, Matt stood up abruptly. "Look, Jeff, Ah jus' came t'aplogize. Ah'd better get goin'."
"Don't leave, Matt," Jeff called as Matt crossed the room. Matt hesitated, and Jeff pleaded his case further. "Ah haven't seen ya f'almost two months. Ah miss talkin' to ya. Ah miss you."
Matt turned slowly back to Jeff. "How're ya doin', Jeff?"
Jeff stopped. "What?"
"How are ya?"
"Well, Ah..."
"Ah've heard some stories."
"Stories?"
"They say you're showin' up t'shows late again."
Jeff sat back down on the couch and examined the floor. "Who says?"
"They say you're not actin' like y'self, that y'head's not in the game," Matt continued. Jeff fell silent again - Matt was right. Jeff just didn't want him to know it. Matt crossed the room and stood in front of Jeff. "Are you doin' all right, Jeff?"
"Matt..." Jeff swallowed to wet his throat, then sighed. "Ah don't know. It's not the same."
"What's not the same?"
"Ah mean, wrestling singles with you on th'same show is one thing... but now Ah never even see ya anymore."
"Jeff, y'don't need me -"
"Yeah, Ah do."
"What?"
"Y'were th'one who always got me there on time," Jeff chuckled, and Matt smiled softly and sat next to him.
"Y'got Lita now, she can keep ya punctual," Matt ribbed. Jeff smiled and folded his hands in his lap.
"It's not jus' that."
"What's wrong, man?" Matt pressed. Jeff sighed again, leaning back into the couch. "Jeff, y'ok?"
"Oh, come on, Matt, y'always knew y'were my inspiration. We did this together, y'were always there for me whenever things got hard. Things might be easier now, but... Ah still need ya."
"Aw, Jeff, y'don't need me. Everyone always said Ah was holdin' ya back. Now it's y'time t'shine. So go shine."
"They were all wrong, Matt. Y'never coulda held me back - y'were pushin' me forward. Ahead of you, at times. Here's th'proof. Look at what we've been doin' since y'left."
"You've had more title shots than Ah can remember, an' -"
"Ah had a feud with th'Undertaker, too. He squashed me. You're beatin' th'holy hell outta him."
Matt shrugged, finally admitting, "With Brock's help."
Jeff looked up to Matt, surprised that he actually admitted that. Matt frowned, and Jeff took a deep breath before addressing Matt. "Ah don't trust him."
"Brock?"
"Yeah. Or Heyman."
"Don't worry about it," Matt smiled softly. "Ah have everythin' under control."
"Matt, are ya sure -"
"Yeah, it's fine," Matt cut him off. Jeff fell silent and looked back to his hands. After a moment, Matt spoke again, somewhat far away. "Ah'd trade it..."
Jeff waited expectantly for him to finish that sentence, but he didn't. "Trade what?"
"Ah woulda traded my winnin' record over 'Taker t'have been in that TLC match with ya."
Jeff looked over to Matt, startled, and caught Matt wiping his eye again. "Don't say that."
"Ah never shoulda left," Matt whispered as he tried to regain his composure, then he turned to Jeff suddenly. "Nex' time we get a chance, Ah'll sign back over t'Raw. As much as Ah despise Bischoff, Ah don't ever want t'have t'watch ya in a TLC match from so far away again."
"No, Matt -"
"No, Ah never shoulda left. Ah -"
"Matt, stop," Jeff commanded, setting a hand on his shoulder. "Ah was holdin' you back. Look where y'are without me. Don't come back f'me. Ah'll be all right."
"Y'weren't holdin' me back, Jeff. Neither of us were holdin' each other back. We jus' mastered th'tag division, an' we need some time t'adjust t'singles wrestlin'. But Ah don't want t'do it so far away from ya," Matt looked up at Jeff slowly, for some kind of response. Jeff just sighed. "Y'should come t'SmackDown, Jeff! Bischoff treats ya like shit. Steph's a li'l moody, but..."
"There's nothin' we can do about it now, Matt. Th'rosters are frozen. All we have t'do is make th'best of what we can," Jeff interrupted calmly. Matt sighed this time. "Jus' don't be a stranger on our days off."
Matt looked up to Jeff suddenly, then smiled.