You Think You Can Tell Me What To Do?

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Chapter 1: Instinct

-by Beth C

Summary: Sometimes your instincts just take over. No matter who you are. Shawn Michaels POV from the HHH vs HBK Badd Blood 2004 match.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Just couldn't get this one scene out of my mind. I'll put DX back when I'm done, in none the worse shape.

Feedback: Sure, I'd love some. but please, no flames. Flames belong to Kane. I don't play with fire.

Author's Note: This is a multi-chapter fic that starts out with the feud between HBK & HHH at Badd Blood. It will encompass the years 2004, 2005 and 2006 - the journey of two friends that went the whole road and back again. Two of the chapters that I am going to be uploading are already posted, but they are actually part of this series - Friends & Friends Again. Keep your eyes peeled for new chapters!

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I reacted on instinct. When his big hands came up and pushed me away, my training took over. I didn't mean to do it; I certainly didn't plan to do it. It just happened.

As I stumbled away from him, I turned my back towards him. Something in me realized that for a split second, he was vulnerable. I felt a small surge of adrenaline hit me and my back leg lifted; almost of its own free will. Once lifted, it was hard to stop.

It took less than a second for my booted foot to connect with his jutting chin. Sweet Chin Music.

He had been like a brother to me once. He had also been my best friend. I am still having trouble figuring out what brought us to this point, where we would hurt each other. I nailed him tonight with that superkick. Nailed him really hard too. I was supposed to pull my kick some, if I did use it at all, but I didn't think about that. I just reacted to the shove.

Instinct.

I saw his eyes roll up in his head as I heard the crack of his teeth smashing together. I barely had time to realize just what I had done before my own chemically induced energy fled my battered and bruised body. My legs gave out beneath me and I collapsed.

It was all I could do to breathe at that point. In. Out. In. Out. Deep cleansing breaths. Restful breaths designed to bring oxygen to my brain. This match had gone on way longer than I had anticipated. I was worn out. I'm pretty sure he was as well. This wasn't supposed to be an 'Iron Man' match, but I'm guessing it was running pretty close to being one. Neither of us had trained this week for a longer than 30 minute match. Now it was showing.

I could faintly hear the roar of the crowd. The reaction to my superkick from nowhere. Cheap pop. But it worked. I got a few minutes resting time that I badly needed.

I could smell my own sweat and blood. Both were everywhere. When I go into a match, I give it my all. No matter what it costs me. It's just what I do best. Show off. It always was that way and that is why so many superstars were pushed up after having a match with me. It was almost guaranteed to be a classic.

Breathe, Shawn, breathe. Focus. In. Out. Regroup and regain your strength.

Ha. I had no strength left. That kick took it all out of me. My head was pounding now. I wanted nothing more than to just lay here and allow my ex-best friend to pin me. I wanted the match over. It didn't matter if I won or lost at this point. I just needed it to end. Needed a hot shower and a warm bed.

I did have enough sense left to realize that he would not be able to pin me. Not after that kick. Maybe if I dragged my body over to where his was, I could pin him and then we could both leave this arena at last.

Maybe.

My arms felt like lead weights. My legs were not cooperating with the signals my brain was sending down. I'm sure I looked silly to the audience, dragging myself over to where he lay.

It was like climbing Mount Everest, those few feet to that fallen body. I was huffing and puffing all the way over. Sometimes I exaggerate a bit, but tonight I wasn't. It really was that hard.

It seemed to me to take forever to raise my arm and let it fall across his chest. My eyes closed from the exhaustion of my efforts. I could feel the vibrations as the referee began to slap the mat for the three count.

One.

Two.

The impossible happened then. Before the last slap could be felt, Hunter got his shoulder up.

It must have been just as instinctive as my kick had been. It certainly surprised me even though I could do nothing about it.

I struggled to my feet and watched as the world spun around me. I tried to focus on his torso in front of me. Was that my blood on his skin or his own?

Didn't matter. Blood was everywhere. On the table we had smashed. On the chairs that we had wielded. On the steel of the cage surrounding us. Even on the ladder, I had seen splatters of the crimson liquid.

I felt my body being bent over and my arms lifted behind my back as he pinned my head between his knees. Pedigree?

Instinctively, I braced for it. Tasted canvas as I was dropped harshly onto it. Harder than I was supposed to be dropped.

It's okay. Payback for my full strength superkick I suppose. Only fair. I landed on my stomach. Breathing harshly. Pain radiating from my over abused muscles. Crowd chanting something unintelligible. I can't hear clearly.

Why haven't I been rolled over and pinned? Minutes passing in a haze. Breathe, Shawn, breathe. Concentrate. Move.

Can't move. Hurts too much. Aches too badly to consider.

Feel myself lifted up again. Bent over again. Another Pedigree?

Head. Canvas. Pain. Falling on my back. Crowd yelling. Blackness closing in. Dark. Soothing…cooling…quiet.

Time stops.

The next thing I am fully aware of is that someone is lightly slapping my face. Go away. Leave me be.

More slaps and I open my eyes. Cage above me. Cage? Steel cage? Where am I?

Awareness hits me next. Cage match with Hunter. I must have blacked out after that last Pedigree. Guess I lost. I struggle to sit up and feel the referee helping me to stand. I hear my music begin to play.

The crowd responds with a roar. Guess they are glad I'm not dead. I fall to my knees and rest my head in my hands. At least this match is over. It took long enough. I can't wait to find out just how long we went. Seemed like forever. Probably was.

I realize that Hunter is not in the ring. I hope that he hadn't had to be stretchered out. I really had meant to pull that kick. I know I'm gonna catch hell for it later, in the locker room.

I just hope he can forgive me. He won the match, after all. He did turn out to be the stronger man.

I just want us to be friends again. I want this bloodshed to stop.

I'm finally able to stand, and I roll myself under the bottom rope. I walk slowly up the ramp, trying to smile all the way. I must look quite a sight to behold with my blood streaked and sweat matted hair hanging off me.

The crowd doesn't seem to care. They cheer me all the way back to the entrance to the locker rooms. It's all good. They got their money's worth.

Now I've gotta go face him. Tell him that it was just pure instinct, nothing more, nothing personal.

Apologize.

And hope we can be friends.