Here's a nice long one for all you people going through Jeff/Lita
withdrawl. (
Title: Everything I Do Author: Crimson Coin
Crimson_Coin@yahoo.com
Note: Humour me. The draft ended with a different one then exists in this story. And certain people are not injured, out of commission, or anything else one wants to call it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely Nothing. The WWE got them.
Spoilers: Unknown as of yet. But if you don't watch wrestling, you probably won't be reading this. So it doesn't really matter.
Summery: I'm really bad at these so let's just say there are wrestlers and outstanding situations that usually have them getting screwed. (Definition of screwed is also still pending.)
Rating: I have no clue. PG13 to R...it'll depend on my mood during the writing, although definitely R later. But should not be read by children, furry animals, The Jedi Council, or the Elderly, as it may invoke a heart attack; loss of the Force, Schwartz, hair, sanity...you get the picture.
TimeLine: It's specific, now. March 2003
Distribution: If ya want it, just ask.
Pointless rambling concluded...on with the story.
Eyes bolted open at the scream and he quickly scanned the room. Blinking a few times, he adjusted his eyes to see through the broken light. He sat up, leaning against the cement wall behind him. He shivered as his bare back touched the cool wall. When had his shirt been taken off? And how about his shoes for that matter? He wiggled his toes, noticing that he'd been stripped of shirt, shoes, and socks. "Well, at least they let me keep my pants."
Chris reached behind his head, feeling the dried blood. They hit him good. Bastards. He exhaled, dropping his arm. A lone window cast bright moonlight into the room. He focused on the window. Damn, that's not even big enough for Torrie to squeeze through much less him. He bent his knees, resting his arms on the bent joints. He curled his toes into the dirt floor, a nervous gesture to keep his mind from wandering. Of course, it never worked.
An old rickety stair case stood at the far end of the room, slanting sharply towards a door. Squinting, Chris could see the door's five or so dead bolts. Well, there goes the idea of breaking that down. Completely across him, a large wooden door stood. A blood chilling scream rang out, as if on cue from a horror movie.
Chris stood up then, carefully looking around. Where's Jeff? No. It couldn't be. Stepping closer to the door, he could see a soft yellow light emanating from under the bottom crack. Every once in a while, a shadow would pass, blocking the light. Oh God! He's in there.
His first temptation to break down that door fell from his mind. Whatever they were doing to Jeff, it couldn't be good. Jeff would need him here, if he ever saw the boy again. Chris stealthily snuck away from the door. A white cloth caught his eye and Chris made his way under the staircase. Whoever had taken them had made sure they had some necessities. At least that meant they didn't want them dead.
He picked up the white sheet and the old blankets that were folded on an oak trunk and carried the items back to the far end. He nervously looked around, then lay the sheet on the dirt, smoothing it as a cover for Jeff to lay on.
With a creak, the door opened and two men carried a motionless Jeff into the room. Chris backed away, ready to pounce but knowing it was extremely unwise, opted not to.
The larger of the two, a man with bright white hair, carefully lay Jeff on the white sheets. The man couldn't be more then thirty-five, but with his white hair and haggard blue eyes, one could mistake him for fifty. He made sure to push the blankets under the Hardy's head, attempting to make the younger man comfortable in his unconscious state.
The other man combed a hand through his curly brown hair. "Come on, Vinny. He's fine. Believe me, he ain't going nowhere."
"I know. I just want him... I don't want him dead. You heard what Nate said if he didn't live through the night." Vinny stood and walked towards the open door, turning to wait for his friend.
The curly haired man turned to Jericho, handing him a cotton cloth, picture and basin. "Here's some water if you wanna clean him up. If you don't try anything funny, you'll stay alive. So I suggest you do that."
"Jacks, come on." Vinny called.
Jacks nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." And with that said, he turned his back.
The two men took one final survey of the room, and walked out the door from which they came. After a series of clicks, Chris quickly made his way to Jeff's side, immediately noticing the condition the younger man was in and that he only wore pants as well.
Chris knelt at the Hardy's side, pouring water on the cotton cloth and cleaning the blood from his back, sides and chest. When most of the blood had been cleaned away, he rewet the cloth and ran it through Jeff's hair. But despite his best efforts, the young man's hair was still red, and sticky. He could barely see the green dye now, only blood and sweat.
Wiping the cloth over Jeff's face, the younger man mumbled. Chris gently grabbed Jeff's head, trying to wake him. "Jeff, come on. Open your eyes, man."
Jeff's eyes fluttered. He mumbled some inaudible words, trying to sit up.
Chris put a hand on Jeff's chest, pushing him back down. "Don't get up, boy. You in terrible shape." He supported the Hardy's neck and poured some water down his throat. "And don't choke on it." Jeff Hardy coughed, spitting up some of the water. Chris only smiled. "You really are the master of perfect timing, aren't you?"
The Hardy smiled and lay back.
"You are one crazy SOB, you know that." Chris said
Jeff closed his eyes, sleep now taking him.
Everything inside him urged Chris to bound up those stairs, break down the door, and rip those bastards limb from limb. For everything they're doing to Jeff. For Lita and for Matt and for Sparks and Torrie ... But he couldn't. No. If Sparks were here, he'd keep his cool. He had to do what Sparks would do. Because now, more then anything, Jeff needed someone with a cool head. And if they were going to get out of this alive, that is what he damned-well needed to be.
+++
"So what are we going to do?" Trish asked, nervously. It had been almost an hour of silence after Lita broke down, crying into Edge's shoulder. And the petite blonde was the first to muster the courage to speak. "I mean, well, what now?"
"Well I know what I'm going to do." Matt stated, hopping off the bed. He quickly looked around the room, spotting his cell phone on the dresser. He grabbed the phone and dialed a number, a number he knew by heart.
Matt raised the phone to his ear, impatiently waiting for the other end to respond. "Hey...Yeah It's me...I know...Yeah, we'll be back as soon as possible but I got a favor to ask first...Yeah...Yeah...It's really important...Yeah we're still in Seattle...Uh huh...Do you think you could come here...and bring Bubba with you...I know...I know you can't just bring him, but we need him...Trust me, he's the only one that could really get this done...Glen...Glen, just listen..." Matt exhaled, rubbing his eyes. "I know...So can I count on you...What'd you mean why? ..." He eyed the room then walked to the bathroom, "It's a little complicated, but the abridged version...yes, the abridged version is...well, if you stop interrupting me I can tell you...right...so Jeff took it upon himself to..." he closed the door behind him, muffling his voice to the others in the room.
Lita's eyes had followed Matt to the bathroom, the slamming door causing her to jump. "What's that all about?"
Christian shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. But why would he want Bubba Ray to come here with Glen?"
"I have no clue." Trish answered. Lita's cell phone rang, startling all in the room. Not after the first ring did Edge's, Christians, Trish's, and Torrie's follow. All looked at each other warily before each answering their phones.
Lita clicked hers open. "Hello?"
"A wonderful. Have you all answered?" a rough yet soothing voice responded.
"Yeah?" Edge said, unsure of how he could hear this conversation.
"All of you?"
Christian clenched his teeth. "Yes, all of us. Now who the hell are you?"
"Excellent. I knew this thing would come in handy one of these days. I tried getting through to that brother, what was his name...ah yes. Matt. Where is he?"
"Busy." Trish answered with restrained anger.
"That's what I thought. But either way, you five will do. I have someone here, two in fact that want to say 'hello'. Can you do that? Maybe tell them you enjoyed your little walk down the road. Remember the one where we practically dragged you from the trunk of the car. You know the road, Lita, the one that leads from the highway to my house. The two miles of back dirt roads. Come on, guys. Tell them how you loved the exercise."
Someone grunted on the other end then proceeded to speak in a gruff whisper. "Bite me."
"Now that's not the answer I was looking for." A sickening thud followed by a whoosh echoed over the phones. "Maybe that'll teach you to answer when you are spoken to. Do you two wish to live; because if you do, I highly suggest you do what I say."
"Yeah, well fuck off." A voice that was obviously Jericho's rang out.
A loud smack made Torrie jump, knowing it was the sound of a large hand hitting Chris. "That's not duh way you talk to him." A deep voice said. "You saw what he did to your Little Friend for mouthing off."
"Thank you, Joey. But it's really ok. It's always so much more fun to break the ones with the fire. And I know exactly how to extinguish that."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" a voice distinctly Jeff's. "I'm not some..." chains rattled. "puny weakling, you asshole."
Rustling and struggling were now the only sounds heard. None in the room could decipher what was going on from only over the phone. After a minute or so, Chris's voice rang strong again. "No. What are you doing? Leave him alone, you've already hurt him enough. NO. NO DON'T. TAKE ME, INSTEAD. TAKE IT TO ME, YOU ROTTON SON OF A BITCH!"
The only sounds now were crunching, grinding and shrieking screams that all knew now had to be coming from Jeff. Tears swelled in Lita's eyes. "Jeff." She whispered to herself. "JEFF, NO! STOP IT, PLEASE!" she called into the phone.
The screams died down as the haunting voice spoke out again. "AH, I see you are calling to him. What do we think of that, Jeff? Is it any different now then it was those years ago? Is she still always calling for you? But wait, I seem to remember something...You haven't called for her...you never actually BEGGED me. Come on Jeff, call to her and I'll STOP." With the last word a crack rang out, almost like the sound of a leather strap.
Jeff screamed out once then fell silent. They could tell Jeff was speaking through clenched teeth, just by the sound of his voice, although it was shaking from the self restraint needed to formulate words through the obvious pain. "I will never call her for you."
Within in seconds the pounding continued, bringing hoarse cries from the young Hardy brother. Every once in a while, a different voice would rise up. The voice being that of Jericho begging them to stop. Jericho knew Jeff's persistence and that boy will never cry mercy. As long as he's conscious, he'd fight. "WHAT FUN IS THERE IN THAT! TRY ME ON FOR SIZE YOU YELLOW BELLIED LUSH! WHAT'D YOU HAVE TO BEAT ON AN ALMOST UNCONSCIOUS MAN! COME ON YOU PANSY ASSED MAMMA'S BOY!"
Jeff's screams ceased and only silence. Listening closely, one could here the soft whimpers of Jeff, and the heavy breathing of others who were present. A slight chuckle resonated. "Actually I have a better idea. Put him over there. Right. Now do you see this...answer so they can hear you."
"Yeah."
"Now where would be the most unpleasant place this can be...used. I think I'll leave that for Tack to decide."
"Heh Heh!" A menacing, yet proper voice cackled. "I can be very creative. Are you sure?"
"Of course. But you only have thirty seconds...ready...go."
As the seconds ticked passed, only the sounds of contact could be heard with slight whimpers. Jericho was refusing to scream. But after a rip and a zip, he cried out. Not halfway through the time, Jeff's screams were added to the noise. As an unknown amount of time passed, the haunting noises stopped, and footsteps rang out.
This time, Nate stood close to the microphone. "It seems, well, it appears they have passed out. And here I was looking forward to you hearing more. Oh well, next time I suppose. So here's what I want. I want her. Yes, you know who I mean. I want you, Lita. That's the deal. For now, I will not kill them. The plan is tomorrow night at midnight we will be outside your hotel. There it will be quite simple. No funny stuff and you come. The catch is, that once I leave here, there is a one hour time period. If I do not call Tack within one hour, he will make absolutely sure that this blonde idiot and your lover boy cease to be. You...and they live. No exceptions, no authorities, no nonsense. Is that understood?"
"Yeah." Lita answered, getting shocked glances from all in the room.
"Good. We shall be there shortly."
With those words said, the transmission ended. At the click, all solemnly lowered their cell phones. None had the courage to speak. The females' eyes were already red. Edge and Christian even began to tear. The worst part was not the torture, but that they didn't know what it actually was. Lita jumped back into Edge when Matt came out of the bathroom, his cell phone in hand.
He looked around the room, noticing the lost glaze that covered everyone's face. "What'd I miss something?"
***Review.review.review.sweet precious reviews ***
Title: Everything I Do Author: Crimson Coin
Crimson_Coin@yahoo.com
Note: Humour me. The draft ended with a different one then exists in this story. And certain people are not injured, out of commission, or anything else one wants to call it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Absolutely Nothing. The WWE got them.
Spoilers: Unknown as of yet. But if you don't watch wrestling, you probably won't be reading this. So it doesn't really matter.
Summery: I'm really bad at these so let's just say there are wrestlers and outstanding situations that usually have them getting screwed. (Definition of screwed is also still pending.)
Rating: I have no clue. PG13 to R...it'll depend on my mood during the writing, although definitely R later. But should not be read by children, furry animals, The Jedi Council, or the Elderly, as it may invoke a heart attack; loss of the Force, Schwartz, hair, sanity...you get the picture.
TimeLine: It's specific, now. March 2003
Distribution: If ya want it, just ask.
Pointless rambling concluded...on with the story.
Eyes bolted open at the scream and he quickly scanned the room. Blinking a few times, he adjusted his eyes to see through the broken light. He sat up, leaning against the cement wall behind him. He shivered as his bare back touched the cool wall. When had his shirt been taken off? And how about his shoes for that matter? He wiggled his toes, noticing that he'd been stripped of shirt, shoes, and socks. "Well, at least they let me keep my pants."
Chris reached behind his head, feeling the dried blood. They hit him good. Bastards. He exhaled, dropping his arm. A lone window cast bright moonlight into the room. He focused on the window. Damn, that's not even big enough for Torrie to squeeze through much less him. He bent his knees, resting his arms on the bent joints. He curled his toes into the dirt floor, a nervous gesture to keep his mind from wandering. Of course, it never worked.
An old rickety stair case stood at the far end of the room, slanting sharply towards a door. Squinting, Chris could see the door's five or so dead bolts. Well, there goes the idea of breaking that down. Completely across him, a large wooden door stood. A blood chilling scream rang out, as if on cue from a horror movie.
Chris stood up then, carefully looking around. Where's Jeff? No. It couldn't be. Stepping closer to the door, he could see a soft yellow light emanating from under the bottom crack. Every once in a while, a shadow would pass, blocking the light. Oh God! He's in there.
His first temptation to break down that door fell from his mind. Whatever they were doing to Jeff, it couldn't be good. Jeff would need him here, if he ever saw the boy again. Chris stealthily snuck away from the door. A white cloth caught his eye and Chris made his way under the staircase. Whoever had taken them had made sure they had some necessities. At least that meant they didn't want them dead.
He picked up the white sheet and the old blankets that were folded on an oak trunk and carried the items back to the far end. He nervously looked around, then lay the sheet on the dirt, smoothing it as a cover for Jeff to lay on.
With a creak, the door opened and two men carried a motionless Jeff into the room. Chris backed away, ready to pounce but knowing it was extremely unwise, opted not to.
The larger of the two, a man with bright white hair, carefully lay Jeff on the white sheets. The man couldn't be more then thirty-five, but with his white hair and haggard blue eyes, one could mistake him for fifty. He made sure to push the blankets under the Hardy's head, attempting to make the younger man comfortable in his unconscious state.
The other man combed a hand through his curly brown hair. "Come on, Vinny. He's fine. Believe me, he ain't going nowhere."
"I know. I just want him... I don't want him dead. You heard what Nate said if he didn't live through the night." Vinny stood and walked towards the open door, turning to wait for his friend.
The curly haired man turned to Jericho, handing him a cotton cloth, picture and basin. "Here's some water if you wanna clean him up. If you don't try anything funny, you'll stay alive. So I suggest you do that."
"Jacks, come on." Vinny called.
Jacks nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming." And with that said, he turned his back.
The two men took one final survey of the room, and walked out the door from which they came. After a series of clicks, Chris quickly made his way to Jeff's side, immediately noticing the condition the younger man was in and that he only wore pants as well.
Chris knelt at the Hardy's side, pouring water on the cotton cloth and cleaning the blood from his back, sides and chest. When most of the blood had been cleaned away, he rewet the cloth and ran it through Jeff's hair. But despite his best efforts, the young man's hair was still red, and sticky. He could barely see the green dye now, only blood and sweat.
Wiping the cloth over Jeff's face, the younger man mumbled. Chris gently grabbed Jeff's head, trying to wake him. "Jeff, come on. Open your eyes, man."
Jeff's eyes fluttered. He mumbled some inaudible words, trying to sit up.
Chris put a hand on Jeff's chest, pushing him back down. "Don't get up, boy. You in terrible shape." He supported the Hardy's neck and poured some water down his throat. "And don't choke on it." Jeff Hardy coughed, spitting up some of the water. Chris only smiled. "You really are the master of perfect timing, aren't you?"
The Hardy smiled and lay back.
"You are one crazy SOB, you know that." Chris said
Jeff closed his eyes, sleep now taking him.
Everything inside him urged Chris to bound up those stairs, break down the door, and rip those bastards limb from limb. For everything they're doing to Jeff. For Lita and for Matt and for Sparks and Torrie ... But he couldn't. No. If Sparks were here, he'd keep his cool. He had to do what Sparks would do. Because now, more then anything, Jeff needed someone with a cool head. And if they were going to get out of this alive, that is what he damned-well needed to be.
+++
"So what are we going to do?" Trish asked, nervously. It had been almost an hour of silence after Lita broke down, crying into Edge's shoulder. And the petite blonde was the first to muster the courage to speak. "I mean, well, what now?"
"Well I know what I'm going to do." Matt stated, hopping off the bed. He quickly looked around the room, spotting his cell phone on the dresser. He grabbed the phone and dialed a number, a number he knew by heart.
Matt raised the phone to his ear, impatiently waiting for the other end to respond. "Hey...Yeah It's me...I know...Yeah, we'll be back as soon as possible but I got a favor to ask first...Yeah...Yeah...It's really important...Yeah we're still in Seattle...Uh huh...Do you think you could come here...and bring Bubba with you...I know...I know you can't just bring him, but we need him...Trust me, he's the only one that could really get this done...Glen...Glen, just listen..." Matt exhaled, rubbing his eyes. "I know...So can I count on you...What'd you mean why? ..." He eyed the room then walked to the bathroom, "It's a little complicated, but the abridged version...yes, the abridged version is...well, if you stop interrupting me I can tell you...right...so Jeff took it upon himself to..." he closed the door behind him, muffling his voice to the others in the room.
Lita's eyes had followed Matt to the bathroom, the slamming door causing her to jump. "What's that all about?"
Christian shrugged. "Beats the hell outta me. But why would he want Bubba Ray to come here with Glen?"
"I have no clue." Trish answered. Lita's cell phone rang, startling all in the room. Not after the first ring did Edge's, Christians, Trish's, and Torrie's follow. All looked at each other warily before each answering their phones.
Lita clicked hers open. "Hello?"
"A wonderful. Have you all answered?" a rough yet soothing voice responded.
"Yeah?" Edge said, unsure of how he could hear this conversation.
"All of you?"
Christian clenched his teeth. "Yes, all of us. Now who the hell are you?"
"Excellent. I knew this thing would come in handy one of these days. I tried getting through to that brother, what was his name...ah yes. Matt. Where is he?"
"Busy." Trish answered with restrained anger.
"That's what I thought. But either way, you five will do. I have someone here, two in fact that want to say 'hello'. Can you do that? Maybe tell them you enjoyed your little walk down the road. Remember the one where we practically dragged you from the trunk of the car. You know the road, Lita, the one that leads from the highway to my house. The two miles of back dirt roads. Come on, guys. Tell them how you loved the exercise."
Someone grunted on the other end then proceeded to speak in a gruff whisper. "Bite me."
"Now that's not the answer I was looking for." A sickening thud followed by a whoosh echoed over the phones. "Maybe that'll teach you to answer when you are spoken to. Do you two wish to live; because if you do, I highly suggest you do what I say."
"Yeah, well fuck off." A voice that was obviously Jericho's rang out.
A loud smack made Torrie jump, knowing it was the sound of a large hand hitting Chris. "That's not duh way you talk to him." A deep voice said. "You saw what he did to your Little Friend for mouthing off."
"Thank you, Joey. But it's really ok. It's always so much more fun to break the ones with the fire. And I know exactly how to extinguish that."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" a voice distinctly Jeff's. "I'm not some..." chains rattled. "puny weakling, you asshole."
Rustling and struggling were now the only sounds heard. None in the room could decipher what was going on from only over the phone. After a minute or so, Chris's voice rang strong again. "No. What are you doing? Leave him alone, you've already hurt him enough. NO. NO DON'T. TAKE ME, INSTEAD. TAKE IT TO ME, YOU ROTTON SON OF A BITCH!"
The only sounds now were crunching, grinding and shrieking screams that all knew now had to be coming from Jeff. Tears swelled in Lita's eyes. "Jeff." She whispered to herself. "JEFF, NO! STOP IT, PLEASE!" she called into the phone.
The screams died down as the haunting voice spoke out again. "AH, I see you are calling to him. What do we think of that, Jeff? Is it any different now then it was those years ago? Is she still always calling for you? But wait, I seem to remember something...You haven't called for her...you never actually BEGGED me. Come on Jeff, call to her and I'll STOP." With the last word a crack rang out, almost like the sound of a leather strap.
Jeff screamed out once then fell silent. They could tell Jeff was speaking through clenched teeth, just by the sound of his voice, although it was shaking from the self restraint needed to formulate words through the obvious pain. "I will never call her for you."
Within in seconds the pounding continued, bringing hoarse cries from the young Hardy brother. Every once in a while, a different voice would rise up. The voice being that of Jericho begging them to stop. Jericho knew Jeff's persistence and that boy will never cry mercy. As long as he's conscious, he'd fight. "WHAT FUN IS THERE IN THAT! TRY ME ON FOR SIZE YOU YELLOW BELLIED LUSH! WHAT'D YOU HAVE TO BEAT ON AN ALMOST UNCONSCIOUS MAN! COME ON YOU PANSY ASSED MAMMA'S BOY!"
Jeff's screams ceased and only silence. Listening closely, one could here the soft whimpers of Jeff, and the heavy breathing of others who were present. A slight chuckle resonated. "Actually I have a better idea. Put him over there. Right. Now do you see this...answer so they can hear you."
"Yeah."
"Now where would be the most unpleasant place this can be...used. I think I'll leave that for Tack to decide."
"Heh Heh!" A menacing, yet proper voice cackled. "I can be very creative. Are you sure?"
"Of course. But you only have thirty seconds...ready...go."
As the seconds ticked passed, only the sounds of contact could be heard with slight whimpers. Jericho was refusing to scream. But after a rip and a zip, he cried out. Not halfway through the time, Jeff's screams were added to the noise. As an unknown amount of time passed, the haunting noises stopped, and footsteps rang out.
This time, Nate stood close to the microphone. "It seems, well, it appears they have passed out. And here I was looking forward to you hearing more. Oh well, next time I suppose. So here's what I want. I want her. Yes, you know who I mean. I want you, Lita. That's the deal. For now, I will not kill them. The plan is tomorrow night at midnight we will be outside your hotel. There it will be quite simple. No funny stuff and you come. The catch is, that once I leave here, there is a one hour time period. If I do not call Tack within one hour, he will make absolutely sure that this blonde idiot and your lover boy cease to be. You...and they live. No exceptions, no authorities, no nonsense. Is that understood?"
"Yeah." Lita answered, getting shocked glances from all in the room.
"Good. We shall be there shortly."
With those words said, the transmission ended. At the click, all solemnly lowered their cell phones. None had the courage to speak. The females' eyes were already red. Edge and Christian even began to tear. The worst part was not the torture, but that they didn't know what it actually was. Lita jumped back into Edge when Matt came out of the bathroom, his cell phone in hand.
He looked around the room, noticing the lost glaze that covered everyone's face. "What'd I miss something?"
***Review.review.review.sweet precious reviews ***
