It was almost as if, at the sound of the bell, the spell was broken.
Nearly in tears, the Undertaker rolled away slowly, achingly, from Triple H's limp, unconscious body. The loud buzzing in his head, the voice that had driven him to near madness for an full year ...
Gone.
Head clear and thoughts free, the thirst for vengeance and assurance was gone.
His mind had fallen silent the moment he had looked down at Hunter's beaten, bruised and battered body.
The cost of his revenge, for the first time since it had consumed him, hit the Undertaker full force like a sledgehammer to the gut.
Something has just been lost.
I am a fool.
Overwhelmed, he shut his green eyes tightly as he tried to pull himself up with the help of the ropes. He was hurt badly, perhaps as badly as last year, but he was determined to pull himself to his feet this time. The match had already been won; now came the final test.
Will I be able to stand?
A shadow suddenly covered him, and he knew exactly who it was. Turning slowly, the Undertaker rolled onto his back, still unable to rise to his feet, and looked up.
Shawn Michaels was crying, blue eyes wet with still-flowing tears, face streaked by their tracks.
The Undertaker felt his heart shattering at the sight.
Shawn had been crying pretty much throughout the whole match, his tears and pleas only growing in intensity as the two men became more and more brutal towards each other. Focused as they had been on victory, both the Undertaker and Triple H had injured Shawn.
In more ways than one.
The immense cost had hit him during the match, as he watched the two men beat the living hell out of one another. On more than one occasion, his own emotions had overtaken him; more than once he had to look away from the carnage.
'This is madness,' he realized the moment he had to literally beg Hunter to stop, to put down the steel stairs, the chair, the sledgehammer.
We've lost our minds.
The Heartbreak Kid looked down at the Undertaker, and saw tears standing in the Deadman's eyes as well, just on the verge of falling. A single thought passed between the two men as they stared at one another; a truth that had been told to them, that they had refused to believe before, but now could not deny.
Hunter was right.
Shawn extended his hand, and, to his surprise, the Undertaker took it without question.
The Deadman was going to walk out of the arena tonight...But he wasn't going to be alone. This they had both determined as soon as the match ended.
As he pulled the larger man up, he was unsurprised to find himself suddenly in a tired, tight, desperate embrace. In fact, he had expected it, because he, too, needed it.
"He was right," the Undertaker was whispering as he buried his face in Shawn's shoulder, in his golden-brown hair. "He was right. About all of it. He knew..."
HBK felt the warm tears against his shoulder and ran a hand comfortingly along the Undertaker's newly-shaven head.
"I know," he whispered in answer, feeling the same pain but refusing to let it overtake him, even managing to smile through his tears. "I know."
The two men stood silently for a long moment, the Undertaker grateful to Shawn for shielding his tears from the rest of the world, and Shawn grateful for the Undertaker's unsteady embrace, as it was the only thing keeping him from collapsing on the floor and dissolving into sobs.
Together they turned towards Hunter, who was still lying as quiet as death on the ring floor.
Though he had been against this madness from the start, Hunter had been the one to pay the heaviest price. He had known it in the beginning; and now, at the end, the two men he had tried to save knew it too.
Shawn Michaels walked over to his friend, his best friend, kneeling by him and touching his face gently.
"I'm sorry," he said brokenly, voice barely above a whisper. "We're sorry."
The Undertaker, after several moments of reflection, joined Shawn, and they stood over the Game together.
As the fog cleared, the first thing Hunter felt was a rush of nearly overwhelming pain. He remembered, all at once, the match, the damaged he'd both dealt and taken, and the fact that he had lost.
The second thing he felt, in sharp contrast, was a pair of hands...No, two pairs of hands. Two people were holding him, trying to help him up off the floor.
'Shit...Did the EMTs have to come get me?' he wondered, still unable to fully open his eyes because of the pounding agony in his head. Slowly, slowly, he felt himself lifted to his feet.
He realized with a start that Shawn was on his right side, as he felt the brush of long hair against his shoulder, smelled that oh-so-familiar shampoo that the Heartbreak Kid used.
"Shawn," he muttered, leaning against his best friend, hoping that the smaller man could support his weight, because he surely couldn't stand on his own two feet and leave the ring.
The irony of it all was killing him.
Killing him, until he realized, honey-brown eyes going wide, who it was who supported his left side; the other man who was literally carrying him out of the ring.
The Undertaker.
Though the two men remained silent as they helped him walk up the long ramp, Hunter could clearly see the quiet light in their eyes, the pained look on their faces.
The price they both paid in that Cell...They now understood why the COO of the WWE had been so reluctant, why Triple H had done everything in his power to prevent this tragedy from happening in the first place.
They knew, with the conclusion of the match, that the End of the Era meant the end for them. All three of them. Ultimately, what had been at stake wasn't pride, or certainty, or even revenge and immortality.
We were risking losing each other forever.
Hunter could see that the madness that had possessed them all was completely gone.
Despite his own bloody, blurred vision, Triple H couldn't help but smile.
He felt himself sinking lower as they reached the top of the ramp, and Shawn struggled to hold him up. The Undertaker, himself struggling to walk, covered in blood and bruises, also paused to catch his breath. Hunter looked between the two men, both holding him, supporting him together as best they could.
Tears gathered in his eyes, and he didn't even bother to hold them back.
No more questioning, no more animosity, no more fear, and no more madness.
They were walking out of that arena, and they were going to do it together.
Years and years ago, after the very first Hell in a Cell match, Shawn was the one who had been carried out of the ring by Hunter, battered and bloody beyond all reason, while the Undertaker lay unconscious, but victorious, in the ring.
This time, however, in what could be the last match for each man, they exited as they always should have.
Together.
Maybe, just maybe...The cost had been worth it after all.
Hunter felt a tug on his arm; a welcome, familiar tug, so different from the violent, angry pull that had been inflicted on him weeks before. As he had done so many times over so many years, he leaned into Shawn's body, hugging the Heartbreak Kid warmly.
However, he noticed that Shawn was also tugging on the Undertaker's arm as well, drawing the normally-reluctant man into his embrace too. Hunter followed suit; though the Deadman had put him through Hell...He was a much a part of this as DX was.
The bond that they had shared in the past, shared even now, and will share for the rest of their lives, could never, ever be broken. That was what they had so foolishly risked in this match; it was everything they had to lose, and more.
And yet, somehow...it had survived. They had survived.
As the three legends hugged on the stage, a thousands thoughts were running through each of their minds, their bodies battered beyond normal human endurance, their hearts torn in more directions than they could make sense of.
In the chaos of it all, however, one thing was clear to them, one thing they knew they'd be able to depend on for the rest of their lives:
Even if the Era was ending, they would always have each other.
I may have lost my mind...but I'm glad I didn't lose you.
There are no words to capture what those three men did...Truly masters of their art, and three of the greatest wrestlers of all time. Love to them all, and if this was truly their last time...It was one hell of a goodbye.
This story is dedicated to Shawn Michaels, Triple H, and the Undertaker. Thank you, Legends.
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