Paper Connection

By Cold-Zephyr

Rating: PG

Genre: Angst/Drama

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Timeline: The moment after Backlash ends.

Description: -slash- They may live miles apart, but love keeps them together. Read the heartfelt letters that these two send each other in this story, Paper Connection.

A/N: Wow...y'all won't believe how teary-eyed I got reading the last set of reviews...you're all such nice people! Anyway, this is it, the end of Paper Connection. I've proofread it, like, ten times over, and I hope you all enjoy it, guys, as you all, each and every one of you, are the reason for this story evolving from a one-shot to a dramatic eight-chapter fic. Thank you, everyone! 'Till next time and next tale, this is Cold-Zephyr signing out.

---

Chapter 8: The Pay-Per-View

Toronto, Ontario, Canada. August of 2004. The crowd was hot, and the wrestlers were all amped up and ready to rumble. It meant one thing: WWE Summerslam.

Everyone backstage was conversing with each other excitedly, eagerly awaiting the start of the pay-per-view. Yet amidst all the buzz, the atmosphere seemed quiet as far as Shawn Michaels, who was seated on a chair in his dressing room lost in thought, was concerned. Needless to say, it was Bret Hart whom he was thinking about.

A knock on the door reached his half-listening ears, causing the man's blue-gold eyes to quickly glance towards the door in reaction to the sound. Shawn absent-mindedly remained in his chair while the said person twisted the doorknob to allow himself in, and one persistent question crawled across his mind, wondering about that person at the doorway: Could it be him…?

Shawn's heart beat faster and faster as the door very slowly creaked open. Could this be it? Will I finally be able to see him again? Is this the moment? He kept his gaze fixed on the opening doorway and locked eyes with the person who stepped inside.

It was not Bret, like he had anticipated…rather, it was Glen Jacobs, known to most wrestling fans as Kane. Shawn tried his hardest to hide the disappointment in his eyes. "Hello, Glen."

To all the wrestlers backstage who knew Glen Jacobs pretty well, it was simply amazing how Glen could portray such a vicious and heartless monster on television so perfectly, because in person, Glen Jacobs was one of the most kind-hearted and compassionate people you could ever meet.

He smiled warmly and waved hello as he walked towards the blonde man sitting morosely in front of the dresser. "Hey, Shawn…I was hoping maybe we could discuss our match tonight. I really want the fans to love it, make sure they all have a great time and get their money's worth. Not too much to ask, right?" Ever the in-ring perfectionist. That was Kane, all right.

Glen Jacobs was scheduled to face Shawn at Summerslam 2004 as part of the storyline, with Shawn finally getting his revenge for Kane's vicious attack around a month ago. "Sure, Glen," Shawn mumbled blankly in reply.

"Shawn?"

"Huh?"

Genuine concern showed through in Glen's tone of voice. "Is there something wrong? You've been looking rather sad lately."

A few seconds of silence passed between them before Shawn finally replied. "I---I don't know, Glen."

The stern gaze Glen gave him made it clear to Shawn that he wasn't buying that answer. Shawn sighed heavily. "Okay, fine. Glen, have you ever loved someone who was out of your reach? As in really, really loved that person with all of your heart?"

Glen pulled up a chair and sat down near Shawn, leaning in to listen better. This sounded serious.

"Well," Shawn continued, "that's kinda what I'm going through right now. The one I love with every fiber of my being lives so far away from me, and the distance between us…it hurts. It just hurts so badly."

The corners of Shawn's eyes began to moisten, and his voice became shaky. "I suggested that we go to Canada for Summerslam because the love of my life lives here. But even if we're in Canada, which we are, there's still that huge possibility that the one I'm madly in love with won't even show up. What if that person's a no-show, Glen? What if I never get to see the one individual who means the most to me ever in my lifetime?"

The larger man seated next to him fell silent. Poor Shawn…Glen had no idea he had it so bad. How could a man even live like that? "Shawn, I don't know what to say, I…I feel so sorry for you."

"Well…thanks, Glen."

Glen stood up. "Hey, I'm no fortune teller or anything, but Shawn, I'm sure things will turn out alright for you. I really hope you'll finally end up with this person someday. Like they say, love always finds a way." He patted Shawn on the back comfortingly and quietly exited the dressing room.

"Love always finds a way," huh…those were Bret's exact words to me in his last postcard.

-

It was tough for Kane to mask his sympathy as he watched Shawn make his way to the ring fighting the anxiety and sadness he had inside and forcing a smile for the crowd. Kane gained the upper hand as the match went underway, again playing the part of the evil, unforgiving beast. The crowd was one hundred percent in support of Shawn, who was too preoccupied to notice. He glanced at them whenever he could, searching for the one face he was dying to see. The curly dark locks and handsome features of Bret Hart were nowhere to be seen in the vast sea of screaming fans, however. Where is he?

"Come on, Shawn," Kane hurriedly whispered in his ear as he whipped him towards the ropes. "I know it's tough, but you gotta concentrate. We have a huge crowd to please, you know. Can't let 'em down."

"Right," Shawn replied. The feeling of defeat was sinking in; maybe Bret was indeed a no-show. Maybe he didn't even know that Summerslam was going to be held in Toronto. Maybe he just didn't want to be there. Shawn committed himself to focusing on the match instead, since he couldn't find Bret anywhere. Why search for something that isn't there, right? he thought sadly.

It was twenty minutes into the match when Kane was lying on the mat after a devastating aerial attack from his opponent, Shawn Michaels. Shawn stood by the turnbuckle, stamping his foot on the mat in preparation for the Sweet Chin Music. A loud sound echoed through the arena as Shawn's boot met Kane's jaw, followed by the unified cheering of the hyped up fans. Shawn Michaels went for the cover and Kane stared up at the lights as he waited for the three-count, wanting to make things a little easier for Shawn. The bell rang, and the masses of wrestling fans present got up on their feet and screamed in support of their hero. He smiled for the fans, but traces of disappointment and sorrow reflected in the eyes of the blonde man standing victorious in the middle of the ring. This feeling wouldn't go away as Shawn walked up the ramp and made his way backstage.

Shawn sat down tiredly in the dressing room staring emptily into the mirror in front of him, not taking notice of the blood trickling down his forehead. He did, however, take notice of the lyrics of the song playing faintly in the background. Shawn recognized it as Evan and Jaron's "The Distance."

The sky has lost it's color
The sun has turned to grey
At least that's how it feels to me
Whenever you're away

I crawl up in the corner
As I watch the minutes pass
Each one brings me closer to
The time when you'll be back
You're coming back

"Coming back…yeah, I wish," Shawn muttered darkly to himself. "I've been waiting all this time for nothing. You really know how to shatter someone's heart, Bret, you really do. Who's the heart-breaker now, huh?"

I can't take the distance
I can't take the miles
I can't take the time
Until the next time I see you smile
I can't take the distance
And I'm not ashamed
That I can't take a breath without saying your name
I can brave a hurricane
And still be standing tall when all the dust has settled down
But I can't take the distance

He slumped back in his chair. "God, Bret…if only you were here." His Summerslam victory was indeed sweet, but not if he had no one to celebrate with. At the end of the day, Shawn was still alone. His life still remained incomplete.

I still believe in feelings
But sometimes I feel too much
I make believe you're close to me
But it ain't close enough
Not nearly close enough

Shawn remained staring at his reflection in the mirror as the song faded away, staring at the pathetic vision of a sad and lonely man. He was still bleeding from the forehead, but his heart was in even worse shape.

A figure wearing a black shirt and jeans approached him from behind. Shawn figured it was just a stage hand, and he didn't even bother to look up or say hello. The crewmember had a towel in hand and carefully wiped away the blood on Shawn's face.

"Thank---" Shawn stopped mid-sentence as he spotted an envelope sitting on the dresser. He pushed the stage hand aside, lunged for it and tore it open, almost certain of who the sender was. It's from him…I know it's from him!

After being a no-show at Summerslam, what could Bret possibly have to say to him? What stupid excuse could he cook up for leaving poor Shawn high and dry? Or…did he have something else in store?

-

Dear Shawn,

Look up.

Bret

-

He whipped around and stared up at the crewmember who had just wiped the blood off his face---and to his utter surprise, it wasn't a crewmember at all.

It was Bret Hart.

"Nice to see you again, Shawn," he said, smiling. The emotion Shawn felt at the sight of him was indescribable: it was like shock, surprise, fury and elation all at once. "Did you miss me?"

The blonde man went into a rage. "God, Bret…I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you! I was this close to giving up on you, you know!!! How could you torture me like that, you bastard? How could you?" Shawn began pounding furiously on Bret's chest, tiny droplets of tears forming at the corners of his eyes. Bret just stood there and took it, figuring the smaller man just needed to vent his anger a little bit. He wrapped his arms around Shawn comfortingly.

"What can I say, Shawn…I wanted to surprise you."

"Real nice, Bret, real nice. You sent my heart on the verge of breaking!!"

"Well, I'm sorry then." Bret shrugged. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question: Did you miss me or not?"

"Like crazy…I've been going absolutely insane thinking about you."

"Good. Me too." Their gazes locked, Bret's handsome dark eyes staring deeply into Shawn's intense blue ones. At that moment Bret seized the love of his life in a tender kiss…magical…sweet…unreal. Neither could believe that this moment was actually happening, each expecting that their connection would remain only through paper. Yet against all odds, they finally found each other. Shawn savored the moment, savored the kiss, savored the sensation of the other man's firm, sculpted lips against his own, until he pulled away for a second. There was one last lingering doubt in his mind that he had to ask Bret.

"I need to know something," he whispered softly into the other man's ear.

"What is it?"

"I've asked this before." There was uncertainty in Shawn's eyes. There was fear…a nagging fear of the unknown. "Bret…where do we go from here?"

Bret sighed and smiled at him, gently caressing his dark blonde hair. "I still don't know, Shawn. But I do know this: in my arms, I've got my happily ever after. And that's all that really matters."

Feeling more secure, Shawn snuggled in Bret's warm embrace once again. Indeed, he didn't need to know exactly what the future would bring. As long as Bret was a part of it, that was more than enough for him to be happy.

"So," Bret asked, coyly playing with his dark curls as he stared down at the floor, "when do you plan to do to me all those things you detailed in your last letter?"

"As far as you and I are concerned, we got all the time in the world, baby."

Bret laughed and placed his arm around the other man. "Come on, Shawn, I'm taking you home. You're all mine now."

"Yep…sincerely yours." The two men's laughter echoed through the empty hall as they walked out of the arena, hand in hand.

-FIN-