Title: Savin' Me
Rated: M (Mature)
Genre(s): Romance/Angst/Hurt/Comfort
Pair(s): Chris/Phil, Jeff/Adam, etc.
Summary: Even though Phil passed his public field sobriety test, the GM still stripped him of his title. Humiliated and heartbroken, Phil knows exactly who to blame. Chris Jericho. Can their relationship survive this test?
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Warning: Slash, Mentioned Alcoholism, Self-Harm
Part: 2/? – Red as Blood
A/N: This is about to become dark, folks. I just wanted to warn you now, if you can't handle depression, blood, etc., then it is best for you not to continue with this story.
OOOO
Phil sat in the hotel room and stared at the marks on his wrists. The wounds were fresh, the ruined towel was somewhere on the floor, and all Phil could think was: he's won. The rock-hard exterior that Phil had worked to build for years… all of it had vanished in the blink of an eye, and he had done what he had sworn to never do. He had broken. Olive eyes flickered over to the blood-stained white material on the floor. Could he be that weak? He was. He was weak. He was foolish. He had messed with the snake, and had been bitten.
It was like he couldn't tell truth from fiction, fact from lie. But as he stared down at the marks, he knew. He knew that they were the only truth. He was proud to be Straight Edge. He was proud, damn it! So why, why would Chris ever think that he would break so easily? Why would he think that he would bend under the pressure? Maybe because he had broken. He had shattered into millions of tiny pieces… so many that he didn't even know who he was when he looked into the mirror anymore. He was the same little boy, afraid to face his father. He hadn't altered.
From the towel on the floor, to the marks on his wrists, to the halves of the keycard that sat on the foot of the bed – his eyes took all of this in… and yet he saw nothing. It was like his mind was hazed over, too lost to the dance of pain to really think clearly. What Chris had said was obviously the truth. By now, the wounds had sealed over and all that remained were scabs and scars. Carefully, he removed two black fingerless gloves from his suitcase and slid them on. They had wide red 'X's on them, just like the tape he wore in his matches. They hid the marks.
He tossed the blade and the towel into his suitcase. Chris would never know, because he never looked their anyway. Besides, it would be a cold day in hell before he charmed the bitch of a receptionist into handing him another key card. Phil smirked as he kicked the two halves of the plastic off of the bed. But that smirk fell as he twisted his wrist and reopened one of the wounds. He hissed as blood slowly trickled down his palm and between his fingers. The burn overwhelmed him, and he felt his eyes start to become heavy…
OOOO
"The next contest is set for one fall! Introducing first, CM Punk!" The crowd went wild as they welcomed the former WWE Champion into the arena. CM Punk just walked down to the ring slowly, not really in the mindset for a match.
"And his opponent, the new WWE Champion, Chris Jericho!" The blond Canadian was met with a chorus of 'boos' as he made his way down to the ring, smirking the entire time.
The ref called for the match to start, but Phil made no move to advance on his husband. In fact, he tried to avoid contact with him as much as possible. He kept his olive eyes downcast as he skirted around the ring, his hands raised weakly as if inviting Chris to lock-up. But Chris could see that something had changed in Phil's eyes. They were devoid of emotion, like he was some kind of doll. And this made Chris wary as well. Without emotion in his eyes, Phil was unreadable and therefore, unpredictable.
Finally, the crowd's jeering wormed underneath his skin and he made his move, locking-up with the smaller man. Phil let out a pain-filled mewl, kicking frantically and Chris' body to try and alleviate the pressure on his wrists. Chris saw his pain and quickly backed him up into the turnbuckle, breaking the hold, only to slap him harshly on the chest. Phil winced, falling to his knees from what most would consider a small blow. While his mind was on other things, Phil slid out and tried to make a mad dash for the locker rooms.
This wasn't like Phil at all. Chris was about to chase after him when, all of a sudden, the GM of both Raw and SmackDown came out and manhandled Phil. His thumbs dug into the still-raw flesh of Phil's wrists, which were hidden beneath tape and the fingerless gloves… but he could feel them start to bleed. The GM all but threw him back into the ring, his body rolling between the top and middle ropes, and he landed with a thud. It should have been interference, but somehow the ref hadn't seen.
"Phil?" Chris asked softly so that the cameras wouldn't pick it up. Gently, he knelt down beside the crumpled form of his husband and reached for his arms. "Phil, baby, you're bleeding…"
However, before he could even touch the hurt ravenette, Phil landed a swift punch to the side of his head. Quickly, Phil stumbled to his feet and reached down, struggling to lift Chris' seemingly gargantuan form. Easing him back into the turnbuckle, Phil made his way to the other side of the ring and landed a high knee in Chris' chest. Now, with the wind knocked out of him, he fell onto his back and threw Chris springboard style. The blond landed in a heap on the other side of the canvas, knocked out cold.
But just as Phil went for the pin, John Laurinaitis came up from behind and hit the ref over the back of the head. He fell down onto the canvas face-first. And then John started to let loose on the former WWE Champion, hitting him until he bloodied his face and yanked at his lip ring. Phil howled in pain, but no-one did anything to stop him. And just when the audience was sure that no more damage could be done, the GM slammed his heel down on Phil's balls. Phil's eyes rolled back in his head, and he barely even realized that Chris' body had been laid over his.
"One… Two… Three!" The ref counted, and the bell was rung.
"The winner of this match: Chris Jericho!" The announcer said.
OOOO
A/N: Please Review!
