Much thanks to Sarah for inspiring this one. This chapter's dedicated to you. - Jules

NOTES: This takes place at around the same timeframe as 125. I'm also going to say that it's been about a month between Jarrett's heart attack and 125.

126

Showdown.

Athena's POV

Sometimes I wonder if I inherited my impulsiveness from Dad because I'm almost sure I didn't inherit it from my mother.

Otherwise, why in the world would my Dad decide to meet up with Jeff Jarrett. A man who took money from Vince McMahon to kill Stone Cold Steve Austin.

People wonder why I went to Kemper?

Anyhow, I overheard my Dad and my Uncle talking to Erichson about visiting Jarrett who had been moved from the hospital room to a jail cell. Something about why Jeff would do Vince's dirty work. I know from my Uncles and Mom that Jarrett and my Dad were friends before he 'died.' I do have vague memories of him coming around a few times after Dad's funeral before Mom really kicked in with the "No Wrestling" edict. I know I heard my Dad say he wanted to know why Jeff did what he did during the conversation. I guess since he took a deal and won't testify about what he did, going to him seems to make the most sense.

I was surprised when Dad let me go with him, Uncle Bret, and Debra Austin. I kinda thought they would tell me to stay out of this one. Steve Austin wasn't going; something about punching the bastard. Can't say I wouldn't do the same if it was Stephanie McMahon Helmsley. There was some cursing and the word bloodbath did come up.

We went to Marietta, Georgia which was where Jarrett was taken to await his sentencing following his dealmaking. It was a long way to get to that tiny little barred meeting room.

The bailiff knocked on the door.

"Jarrett, you got a visitor," he said going into the room.

"Let me guess?" he called out before we were let into the room, but we could see him. He was shackled to one of the chairs in the room. "Austin's come to collect?"

"Not quite," Dad said, going into the room first.

I'm guessing nobody actually told Jarrett that Dad was alive.

The look on Jeff Jarrett's face when he saw Dad was priceless. His eyes were so wide I thought they were going to fall out of their sockets. His face which had already been pale from the heart attack a month earlier went bone white. I honestly thought he was going to have a stroke then and there. His mouth moved like a fish for a few minutes with nothing coming out before he was finally able to make a sound.

"I - I, oh God," he managed to stammer out, "I didn't... Nobody told me..." he shook his head, "remind me to fire that attorney of mine," he finally muttered.

"Oh, I don't know, she seemed to do a good job for you," Dad said straddling in the chair opposite Jarrett, a desk separating them, "got you a pretty nice deal. Least you have the possibility of parole after 20 years from what I'm told. That's something the McMahons and Helmsley aren't getting. But I guess a jail cell is one of the perks of getting your hands dirty for Vince right?"

Jarrett couldn't meet Dad's eyes.

"I swear, I had nothing to do with Kemper," he started, "I never even thought that Vince had actually did it until Russo's tape aired on RAW."

"Come on, Jeff," Uncle Bret said standing in one of the rooms corners, "how could you be so blind?"

"Come off it, Bret," Jarrett shot back, "you know as well as I do Vince made it look damned convincing that Kemper was an accident, and with all the infighting in your family by that time, he was able to make himself the innocent party. Seems to always do that."

"Not anymore," I muttered. Nobody heard me. Jarrett finally looked dad in the eye.

"I told Vince when he approached me about the scaffold match, that if I found anything to link him to your death, I'd turn on him faster than a deer in hunting season. I'd tell the authorities that he planned Austin's death, not Bischoff like Vince set it up to look like. That's why I was in Atlanta the day Steve testified. I was going to turn state's witness on Vince. Never got the chance too though, not that it matters now."

Dad sighed, "you hated Steve that much? Were that jealous of him, that you would actually kill him for Vince?"

"There was a bit more to that," Jarrett replied, "but yeah, that was the gist of it. 'Fraid to say no, because I thought Vince would go to Austin and ask him to do the same thing to me or he'd make sure we both got injured on that scaffold. Also figured that it would get me out of the doghouse I sort of ended up in when I held the IC title hostage when I left the WWF and WCW folded a year and a half later. Whether anybody likes it or not Chyna was Kliq through and through. But yeah, bottom line, I hated Steve enough to kill him."

"Why?" was the choked question from Debra Austin.

"Why?" Jarrett looking at Debra, "because that slapnut had everything. The hot career, the titles, and in the end, the girl."

That seemed to silence everybody in the room.

"You'll never know just how much I would've done for you Debbie. Why you chose him over me I'll never know."

"Too bad you didn't think about his daughters when you made that deal," I muttered again. This time everybody did hear me.

Jarrett looked at me for a good few moments than mouthed to dad my name. When dad nodded, Jarrett slumped in his chair.

"You know I came around to check on Martha and the kids after your funeral," he said his voice distant. "I tried to stay in their lives, but Martha didn't want anybody related to wrestling but the family anywhere near the kids after a month or so. I felt sorry for her," gesturing towards me, "and Oje having to grow up without a father."

Dad nodded again, "yeah she told me. But thing about this Jeff: If felt bad about Vince depriving my kids of a father, than maybe you should've thought about Steve's girls before depriving them of theirs."

With that Dad got up and walked out, the rest of us followed.

Dad leaned against the wall outside the Marietta County jail and sighed.

"I know that was tough," Uncle Bret said.

"Yeah, but I needed to have that meeting," Dad replied, "I needed to tie up that loose end before I moved on."

"Which begs the question," Uncle Bret began, "what are you going to do now?"

That was a good question. What were Dad and the others going to do now?

Okay, here we go.