TITLE: Through the Alleys
AUTHOR: Simply_Cath
DISCLAIMER: Don't own anyone involved, not making a profit. Names trademarked to WWE, guys own themselves obviously.
DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first
RATING: M
CONTENT: Violence, bad language, lots of bad language.
SPOILERS: None
SUMMARY: Moxley's had people pissed at him. He's had people after him. He's never been hunted like this.
NOTES: An idea that's been kicking around for a while.

Jon lunged forward. He felt their hands on his arms as he brushed past, and he kept running until he hit another alley. Alleys felt like home.

Their heavy footsteps followed him in and he whirled around, "Leave me alone!"

"You need to calm down, okay?" The shorter guy took a step closer. "Take a deep breath and calm down."

In spite of himself, Jon listened. The alley smelled like shit. He held up a hand and shook his head. "Look, I... I dunno who you guys think I am, but you got the wrong guy, okay?" He put his hand to his chest. "Listen, all right? My name is Jon, okay? Jon Moxley, I dunno who you're looking for, but it's not me, okay?"

"Yeah, it is." The taller guy was quiet, but there was something weird in his voice.

"Why?" Jon screamed. "What the fuck do you want from me? I didn't do nothing! I didn't... What is this it?" Jon wrenched off the hoodie. He threw it at them. "There, okay?! You can have your fucking hoodie back! Nobody was using it! I used to have a jacket. It was a piece of shit, but it was mine and I even wrote my NAME on the back so nobody else would want it, but someone took it, just like EVERYTHING gets taken from me!" He shook his head. "No, no, I'm not taking the fall for this... for whatever this is, so LEAVE ME ALONE!"

He turned away from them and started to run.

The next thing he knew he was on his knees.

They were coming. Half melted snow crunched under their boots.

His hands were soaked and frozen with slush. He started to his feet. His fingers closed around something hard. Jon held his breath. The air around him shifted. Moxley braced. His heart started to pound harder than his head.

He gripped the pipe tighter and shot to his feet, whirling around and slamming the pipe as hard as he could into the shorter guy's side. He hit something hard, then felt the familiar give of breaking bone. The shorter one staggered back into the big guy.

Jon ran again, through the alley until he got out the other side.

He leaned against the wall, panting for breath. The pipe fell from his finger and hit the sidewalk with a dull thump.

He'd had people pissed at him. He'd had people after him before.

He'd never been hunted like this.

Think. He had to think. Jon cracked open his water and took a sip. Okay, he had a pack of smokes and twelve bucks. He'd started out with less. There was a lot a guy like him could do with twelve bucks.