3: Promises

March, 1999

"…what is a dream and what is reality anymore…"

A flash of acid eyes.

"You were teasing and playing with me like a toy."

No.

"You are mine!"

"No!" Fallon screamed, sitting upright in her bed and began lashing out the moment arms enveloped her. "No!" She started fighting for all she was worth, tears trickling from beneath her lashes. "No!"

"Fallon, Fallon, it's me, it's Paul!" He had been watching her sleep, listening to her mumbling in her dreams, and when she had rasped out 'Mark', he had known who she was dreaming of, of what she was probably dreaming of. She had been given some time off, and to write her out for a few weeks, she had kayfabed getting a fireball to the face. She was supposed to crash with him and then head off to join her husband, she shouldn't of been dreaming about the Undertaker tonight, she should've been dreaming about Shawn… gross. "Hey, I got you…" He soothed, feeling her relaxing against him and released her arms. When she had started thrashing, he had pinned them down, not about to get punched. "I got you, Fallie…"

"Paul?" She whispered, her tongue feeling thick as it fumbled around his actual name. Fallon could feel heat radiating from him, making her already sweat soaked nightclothes feel even more disgusting, if that were possible. As she calmed, she could feel his grip on her loosening, and she rested her head against his chest. She could still hear 'Taker's words bouncing around in her head, clear as crystal. "He won't stop…" She whispered, staring down at the sheets that were twisted around her legs. "He's not going to stop…"

"Fallie…" Hunter had no idea what to say to that and wondered what had brought this on. She hadn't been in contact with the Undertaker since that day in Texas. That very horrible, disturbing day… He had discovered what stress, withdrawal, lack of sleep, and probably some inherent form of insanity could do to his friend. It turned her into a fricking lunatic. He had thought… that she had recovered from the Incident. After a while, she had stopped flinching at everything and talking about random things, or bitching about her feet being dirty, but… maybe she wasn't as fine as she appeared to be. "He's not-"

"He will."

"Why, Fallie? What brought this on?"

Fallon was awake now, and was trying to brush aside her nightmares, to think clearly. She knew she sounded crazy but… she could smell 'Taker, she could smell him, like he was right here in the room with them, and maybe that had been- "Paul."

She was using his name again. "Fallon, look, you're-" His eyes followed hers. It was dark, they were sharing a room, with two full sized beds, and he knew he had closed that window before they had gone to sleep. The room had smelled when they came in so she had opened it to air it out but he knew he had shut it, he had. "Fal…"

She was hiding her face in his chest again.

"Isn't it strange… how well she can sense me, after all this time?"

Hunter could only watch as the Undertaker, the damn Undertaker, stepped out of the darkness and into the light that poured in from the window. Streetlamps and moonlight did nothing to overly display the man's finer features, but there was no mistaking that imposing figure. "Get the hell out!"

Fallon was singing under her breath, trying to block everything out. She had smelled him.

It was disturbing how people could be bought into doing obviously illegal things, Fallon mused, turning her head away from the spoon that was attempting to enter her mouth. She didn't remember being removed from Hunter's arms, but she knew she had. She didn't remember how she had gotten here, wherever here was, so she assumed she had passed out, or been knocked out. She had woken; bound to a chair, with a nervous young woman standing in front of her with a bowl of something she called 'broth'. Fallon was pretty sure there were drugs in it.

The young woman looked like someone pulled from the street, someone who needed to make a quick buck, and didn't care how it was made. Fallon had tried bribing the woman, Lord knew she had more than enough money, but it hadn't done her any good.

"Don't starve yourself ma'am, the boss won't like it."

So, the woman did talk, and Fallon noted she sounded a little scared. She watched as a trembling hand came at her face, towards her nose and took a deep breath.

"Leave us."

Terrified was more like it. The woman dropped the spoon into the bowl and scurried out of the room like her ass was on fire, not shooting Fallon or the Undertaker a backwards look.

Fallon let out the breath, slowly looking at her captor, hoping another trip into 'I'm Crazy Land' was not in her future. She had spent months in therapy for her issues, she did not want to go back. "Are you really that desperate to get laid? Because I can assure you, contrary to what my husband says, I am not a sex goddess."

She really hadn't lost her touch, she was just as sarcastic as ever, even more so perhaps, and 'Taker knew that was Shawn's influence. Shawn… he hated Shawn Michaels. That little idiot… breaking Shawn's back had been one of the highlight's of his career, ruining his marriage was going to be a personal highlight. "If I wanted sex Fallon, I would just take it." He informed her, watching as her sharp tongue seemed to curl in on her. "It wouldn't be the first time."

She blanched at that.

Slowly, he pulled a rolled document from his back pocket, letting it unfold and then holding it up for her to see. "You're going to sign this."

"The hell I will." Fallon could read quite well and there was nothing wrong with her eyesight. That was a paper for a divorce. "Why would you- seriously, what do you care about my marriage?"

"I despise Michaels and you're not exactly on my good list either, Mrs. Michaels." He knelt down, placing one hand on her thigh, the other waving the document in her face. "In fact, I'd be very happy if your husband died on the operating table."

She hocked a wad of spit in his face. "I'm not signing that, and Shawn would know better anyway. "I'm sorry you've lost your mind but I still retain mine and I do not play games, Calaway. Especially with you."

He snorted, the corner of his mouth curving into a brief smirk as he wiped her spittle off his cheek. "Lies, Fallon, you love playing games with me. Chess, for instance…"

She had been in a very bad place at that time, it didn't count.

"Puzzles…"

Her eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

"So we'll play this game. You'll sign this, or your friend, Gertrude, suffers."

"Gertrude?" It took Fallon a moment to sort that one out, mostly because Luna wasn't overly fond of being called by her actual name. "You realize, her husband will kill you, right?"

"The vampire wannabe? I highly doubt that. He'd have to find her first."

"Where is she?"

"Basement, where you'll be going if you don't behave yourself."

"You have never really understood the relationship between me and Shawn. I don't expect you to though, you're an idiot."

These little talks were becoming annoying. Fallon tended to alternate between silence and then extreme lipping off, almost begging him to beat her head in. He was tempted, he wouldn't lie. Every time he looked at her, he could feel cold fury swelling in him. He also knew that it had poisoned him, that he had gone beyond a rational, indignant anger and into something that was very likely going to land him in a psych ward or prison.

He had carried this damn company, remained steadfast, didn't try to negotiate through the bullshit during the bad times, and who seemed to wind up on top? Shawn Michaels. The one thing he had wanted, and nearly had, Shawn had swooped in and married, all while being higher than a kite. He and Fallon had had a game going, an interesting relationship. She had been intelligent and enjoyable to talk with, and how had that played out? She had promised him everything and then given it to that bastard. Shawn Michaels was his own personal thorn in the side and he was plucking that bastard out. Playing with the missus was an amusing bonus.

"Do you realize the predicament you're in? I could snap you like a damn twig, Fallon." He sneered, tempted to slap her just to shut her up. "Sooner or later, you'll lose it again." He tapped the side of his head, watching the smile slide off her face when she realized what he meant. "When you do, when you break, I'll be right here to pick up the pieces."

"I've lost my mind once, I really don't think it's going to happen again, so you might as well forget that." Fallon said coldly after a moment, everything about her daring him to make good on his threat to snap her like a twig. Her posture, her flashing eyes, her tone of voice, all a challenge. She had no idea how long she had been here, she had spent some time down in the basement, curled up with Luna who was seriously confused as to what the hell was going on. She had tried to explain it, Luna had been there in Texas when everything went down, but Luna was actually fairly sane. She didn't get 'Taker. Fallon didn't either. "I've got a question for you."

He was regretting bringing her out of the basement, but he had gotten bored with waiting for her to come to her senses. He had denied her and her friend both of light, of food, and he had made them beg just to use the bathroom… that had been amusing. This was not. He glared at Fallon, who was perched on the edge of his bed, looking rather damp from her forced shower. She had reeked when she had finally been allowed upstairs and he had held her under a cold spray and scrubbed her until she was pink and raw. As he was a generous person, he had provided her with a robe afterwards. "I'd think very carefully on what you want to ask, Fallon."

"Did you cry when you found out your baby was dead? Because I laughed."

His fists curled.

She seen that and moved off the bed, putting space between them. "Sore spot?"

"Fine line, Fallon." He whispered, staring down at her, his eyes almost unfocused. She was the most puzzling woman he had ever met. She was going out of her way to provoke, knowing damn well what he was capable of. She was defying rationality.

"I think," She whispered, curling her fingers tightly around the back of the chair she had placed between them. "that on some twisted level, Mark, you love me."

He shook his head.

"Love twists people, even if they were twisted to begin with, and it can become obsession, insanity." That was something she was rather familiar with. "I feel sorry for you."

"Don't mix love with lust, Fallon, I thought you were smarter than that." He was done with this conversation, not wanting her pity, not understanding it.

She watched quietly as he shed the majority of his clothing and took her spot on his bed, laying out. Her knuckles had gone white from how hard she was holding onto the chair. Where was Hunter? Was he even alive? She had hardly spared two thoughts for her friend since waking up here, more concerned with her own hide, but now… now she was thinking about him, and wishing she hadn't been such a bitch to him over the past year. She had a feeling if her mouth didn't stop running, she wasn't going to live much longer.

"That night we were together."

She frowned, looking down at the floor. She didn't remember that night, she didn't want to remember it.

"You wanted it. You knew exactly who was with you. Your eyes were open, staring into mine. You wanted me, Fallon, and you can make your excuses about being insane, but we both know the truth. I gave you what you wanted, what you promised me, and you loved it." 'Taker looked over at her, not surprised to find her shaking her head in denial. "You loved every inch of my cock driving into-"

"Shut up!" She screamed, throwing the chair at him. "You're lying!"