In A Breath

By Kyizi

Disclaimer: All characters belong to the WWE, the story is mine.

Rating: R, for violence and rape

Summary: Christian turned his back on his brother, on his career and on his company, was it really all because he was jealous of his brother's success? Or was he trying to escape from something…or someone?

Spoilers: Up to and including Vengeance.

Setting: This starts the day before Vengeance, but we will be taking a trip back in time every now and again.

Feedback: Always appreciated

E-mail: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com

Yahoo! Group: KyiziFic

Notes: This idea came into my head after reading Karen U's fic, "It Only Hurts" where she gave Jericho a reason for being, well, an ass, I began to wonder if maybe Christian had a reason…

(Matt and Lita aren't dating in this one and they're both at Vengeance backstage for the purposes of this fic!)

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Part Twelve

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"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I-I didn't want to come, but, but he won't wake up and he's screaming and the blood and-"

"Torrie, what's wrong?"

Edge pulled the sobbing woman into the room and Lita kicked the elder Hardy on her way past, waking him up. When Matt saw Torrie and the state she was in, he shook Jeff awake, making him move over as Edge and Lita walked her to the couch.


"You have to call an ambulance, I can't-can't find his phone and-"

"Torrie, calm down," Lita said, exchanging a worried glance with Edge. "You need to explain. Who's hurt, who needs an ambulance?"

"C-Christian does."

The room was silent and they all looked at each other. Lita didn't understand how Torrie could know Christian very well, let alone how she could know he needed medical attention in the middle of the night. But she didn't care.

"What room?"

"407." Torrie couldn't stop shaking, even though Jeff had draped the blanket he had been sleeping with around her.

"Okay, Jeff, call an ambulance. Matt, stay with her. Edge?" Lita waited until Edge's stunned face was looking at her. He took a deep breath and nodded as Jeff ran to the phone on the bedside table. They stood to leave and were at the door when Matt's call stopped them.

"Torrie, you should stay here, we-"

"No!" For all the power her crying had, it was nothing to the anger in her voice. "He's all I have and I'm all he has, I'm not leaving him! I can't believe I already did, but the phone was disconnected and all I could think of was getting an ambulance."

"It's okay, Torrie, you can come with us." Lita pulled the other woman's arm as both Hardy's joined them at the door.

"Ambulance is on its way," Jeff said, and the five of them ran down the hall to room 407.

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He wasn't sure what he had expected, but this wasn't it. Edge glanced again at his brother's writhing form. He seemed to be stuck in some nightmare that no one was able to wake him from. His eyes were open but he wasn't seeing any of them.

The blood was messy, but the cuts to his wrist were the wrong direction for it to have killed him, for which Edge was eternally grateful, but he couldn't forget the scars that were. As he had tried to clean the mess, to stop the bleeding before the ambulance arrived, he had noted other such scars. And some of them were the right way. They were too thin to be noticed clearly enough and the bottle of fake tan on Christian's bedside cabinet would have been more than enough to hide them from prying eyes. Or caring eyes. The scars were old; old enough that he should have noticed them. Old enough that he should have cared enough to see them.

Edge stared at his brother wide-eyed, aware that Torrie was clutching Christian's head on her lap, murmuring to him. But Christian wasn't aware of it, all he was doing was screaming and shouting about hands and light and making it all end. His eyes were wild and it shook Edge to his core. They were lost, vacant, as if no one had lived there for such a long time and Edge felt his chest heave, fully aware now that he was sobbing.

Lita was behind him, but he knew she likely had her eyes shut. The pain in Christian's face and the blood and the razor blades by his sides were too much. It was too much and he almost retched right there and then. He knew that the Hardy brothers were waiting for the ambulance, one at the bedroom door and one in the foyer, but he was too out of it to know which one was where, or to even care. All he knew was that the sirens were getting louder, but his brother's cries were all but deafening them.

There was a crowd at the door, his fellow wrestlers and some strangers, but to be honest, when he had first heard his brother's heart wrenching cries they had all been strangers, just faces in a sea of people that he didn't want to see and only had to part in order to get through.

There were paramedics behind him, people who could help, but he didn't want to move. His brother was dying before him; was ripping apart at the seams and he was transfixed by the horror and pain.

He became vaguely aware of Lita talking in his ear, coaxing him to stand, and he did. He stood and he stepped back, but he didn't make the pain stop and it didn't bring any life back into his brother's eyes.

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End of Part Twelve

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