I ain't making anything for this,so I don't know why I keep disclaiming stuff! You know the drill, read on if you dare!

Over The Edge

Randy's viewpoint

I came to with a start; my head pounding, and looked at the clock radio on the bedside table. 7:25 p.m. it read.

"Shit! McMahon will kill me!" I jumped out of bed and hastily threw some clothes on. I found my wallet and cell phone on the floor, but I couldn't find any trace of the suit I'd worn to the arena last night. This wasn't unusual, but it hadn't happened since I got married and curtailed my wandering libido.

Raw started at nine o'clock on the dot, but Vince liked to have everyone there at least two hours in advance to go over their matches and interviews. Although I had totalled a couple hotel rooms and done other things I wasn't proud of, I had never been late for work.

I sprinted through the concourse, narrowly avoiding two old ladies and a waiter. It was bad enough that I was late, but showing up covered in chocolate icing was even worse, though it might give me a believable excuse.

Driving through traffic like a madman, I made it to the arena by eight. I hoped nobody would notice that I was almost an hour late, but Vince was standing right by the door, talking to Gerald Brisco. BUSTED!

"Oh well, better take it like a man." I reached for my jacket on the seat beside me. This was when I realized that something was weird. It felt like someone had put glue on the driver's seat.

"What the...?" I moved to the left and right, but something was holding my butt to the seat. It would almost be funny if I weren't so fuckin' late. Since I was now extremely, no denying it, late, I decided to try to get out of the car without ripping my pants. The only thing worse than being late was being late with ripped pants! Again, usually not a problem, but I am one of the few guys on the roster who is very uncomfortable with the lifestyle choice made by a certain pair of guys... namely Jeff Hardy and his new husband Eric. The last thing I want is to give either of them more fuel for their warped senses of humor.

Anyhow, getting out of the car was my first priority, so I sort of rocked back and forth until I unstuck myself. In my rush to get inside, I didn't bother looking at either the seat or my butt. Surprisingly, it never crossed my mind until I got inside.

"You're late." Vince said... leave it to him to start the bleedin' obvious.

"Sorry, Boss, the hotel forgot my wake-up call." On short notice, that was the best excuse.

"Mm." Vince grunted

"Can I go now?" When I turned away, I was made aware of the mess on my clothing. Once more, Vince had the utmost tact and discretion.

"Hey, Orton, your period start early?"

"Huh?"

"The seat of your pants is covered in blood." He pointed to my butt.

"What the..." I ran to the bathroom and looked. Sure enough, not that I didn't believe him, it looked like I'd been stabbed. I tried to remember anything that might have caused it? There was no painting going on at the hotel as far as I could recall, and I'm pretty sure I hadn't loaned my car to anyone. "...is going on?"

"Beats the shit outta me." Damn, if it wasn't that Jeff Hardy! Not now! "I rarely know what is going on anymore? You ready?"

"Ready? For what?"

"We have a match tonight for the number one contender."

"We do?" I was confused. Oversleeping, then the problems with my clothes and the blood and now I'd forgotten who that night's opponent was. Things weren't looking so good.

"Yeah... how could you forget... you bothered the writers until they created the storyline for you.?"

"Sorry, Jeff, I'm not following you." I replied

"Y'know... the whole anti-gay thing. You beat up Eric last week and..."

At the mention of "beat up", I suddenly had a strange flashback... I was running down the street, but why?

"...match. Follow?"

"Huh?" I realized I had missed the last half of what Jeff had said.

Jeff looked at him, disgust written on his face. "That's the last time I agree to work a program with you if you're going to keep zoning out on me."

"Jeff, wait." I caught up with him in the corridor. "Look, I'm sorry, but I can't seem to focus today. Give me five minutes to change and then we can go over everything, okay?"

"Fine. I'll be in catering."

I went back into the locker room and threw my gym bag on the floor.

"Hey, Orton, how's it going?" Edge asked. Having only been traded back to Raw on the previous week's Smackdown, it was the first night they'd be on the same card in almost eight months.

"Adam, did anything strange happen last night?"

"Like what?" Edge replied

"I dunno. Have you ever had a day when nothing seems to fit. Y'know, there's stuff where there shouldn't be..."

"You talkin' bout the crap on your ass?" Edge joked

"Never mind, I'm sure there's an explanation for all this."

"Whatever, man... I'll see you after the show?"

"Probably... if I can get through it and remember what it is I'm supposed to do."

"You'll do fine, but you might want to fix that before it rips."

"What?" As if not remembering anything else was bad enough, Edge decided to go cryptic on him.

"It looks like you closed your bag so fast you caught something on the zipper." Edge pointed.

"Thanks... I'll take care of it." Yet something else that didn't add up. I didn't even recall packing anything paper into the bag. I travelled light to shows, usually only my wrestling gear, a towel, and some toiletries was all I brought.

I pulled the sheet of paper from my bag and immediately felt light-headed. Thankfully, there was a bench to sit on nearby. I took several deep breaths before re-reading the seven words on the page.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST NIGHT"

It was unsigned.

"If this is somebody's idea of a joke, I ain't laughing!" I screamed at the walls.

"Problem, Orton?" The other person I wanted nothing to do with, Eric Hardy, had just arrived.

"Nah, I'm fine." He lied.

"Just askin'. You look like you'd seen a ghost, or eaten some of Jeff's cooking..."

"I heard that..." Jeff's voice bounced off the walls.

"Love you too, hun." Eric replied "Damn, I wish he didn't have such good hearing. You really don't look good. Are you sure everything's okay?"

"Eric, I..." I wanted to try to explain my day, but the words weren't coming out. "Have you ever had a day when everything felt off?"

"I've had a lot of days like that." Eric replied "Maybe it was all the drinking you did last night... you were pounding them back pretty fast."

"Yeah, that's probably it." I scrunched up the paper and threw it in the garbage can.

"Whatever. I'll see you in the ring."

I was left alone in the locker room again. "Get a grip, Orton." I slapped myself across the face and that seemed to clear my thoughts a little. At least enough to get dressed and then hunt down Jeff to go over our match tonight.

Later that night...

"Great match, Orton!" Eric congratulated me... "Even though you lost!"

Jeff snickered. "At least you seem to be a little more awake."

"You know what I think... I think Randy got a love note from a fan and it rattled him."

"Screw you, Cena."

"I'll pass..." John laughed

"C'mon, Randy, admit it... you've got something on the side." Jericho teased me.

"I saw the note." Eric put his two cents in. "Who is she?"

"It isn't a love note!" I was so anxious to prove them wrong, I had forgotten what the note read. Until I pulled it out of the garbage. As soon as the seven words re-registered in my mind, I got real dizzy. I think I passed out...?

John Cena's perspective

We rib each other a lot... it's a fact of the wrestling life and if we didn't do it, we'd all go crazy. So I didn't think anything of it when we started giving Randy a hard time. When he pulled the note out of the trash, I kinda thought he'd read some cute little fan's letter, we'd laugh, and it would be forgotten like that... whatever was written on that must've been a lot more than that! His eyes rolled back and Randy dropped like he'd been superkicked.

"What the..." I got to him first before he smacked his head too badly on the floor.

"Get me a wet cloth or something..." I yelled at the guys who were doing their impressions of car accident spectators.

Some Jabroni finally passed me a cloth and I patted Randy's forehead. He was burning up!

"What's going on here?" Vince had heard the commotion from his office and had come to investigate.

"I dunno... Randy was fine one moment and the next he just fainted." Jeff explained

"Maybe he had some bad chow?" Eric suggested

"Maybe... where'd you guys go last night?" Vince asked

"Some club downtown." Adam responded quickly. "But Randy left early."

"More like got kicked out." Jeff mumbled.

Eric and Adam glared at him. "Zip!" Eric mouthed.

"Let's get him to the trainer's room." Vince suggested "It's probably more comfortable than this floor."

Jeff's memories

With Cena and Jericho's help, Randy was taken away. Vince, as well as many of the other wrestlers, followed. The only three that didn't were Eric, Adam, and myself.

"What the hell was that?" Adam asked

"I dunno... you gotta watch that mouth of yours, Jeffro." Eric replied

"Sorry." I apologized

"Yeah... we gotta be careful. I'd like to know who sent that note." Adam whispered

"Me too... until we find out who did this," Eric gestured to the note. "Randy has to think it was all a bad dream."

"We agreed... until we find out who did this, Randy can't know."

"Yeah, but where do we begin...?"

"I only glanced at them." Eric stated "Maybe we should try the club after the show tonight? The bouncers might be able to help us, particularly if they are from around here."

"Good idea." Adam agreed "The three of us will case the joint."

"Actually, I need to to stay with Randy tonight."

"Why?" Being a part of the action was what Adam wanted, not babysitting.

"We have to find a way to keep his mind off what happened for as long as possible. Never having been through something like this, I don't know what his reaction will be" Eric explained

"Trust me?"

"Okay...." Adam conceded

"Think of it this way: you weren't at the club last night. Jeff and I were! If we're made out, we still have you to do the dirty work!"

"Yeah... you'll get to Edge-ucate them on what happens when you mess with one of us!" I added

Edge nodded... he liked the idea of being the "hired gun".

"Cool... I'm in!"

"I wonder how Randy's feeling?" Adam asked

"We should check on him... don't want to arouse any more suspicions than necessary."

Evil thoughts brewing, we left the locker room.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Three hours later, post-RAW, Eric and Jeff met outside the club. Each took a different route and a different mode of transportation. Adam, grudgingly, had taken Randy back to his hotel room for what he promised would be a night of "male bonding".

Insert your own joke here... I don't want to ruin the atmosphere

While Jeff started talking to the bar staff, Eric struck up a conversation with one of the security guards that he recalled seeing there the previous evening.

"Not quite so busy tonight. Must make your job a little easier?" Having worked as a bouncer to make ends meet while working his way up, Eric blended in rather easily.

"Still get our idiots."

"Uh-hm. Anybody in particular I should avoid? I'm new in town."

"Just keep your hands to yourself and you'll be fine."

"I ain't worried." Eric retorted

"You see those four guys at the bar? The ones in leather?"

"Yeah. What's their story?"

"Don't quote me on this... I could lose my job if this gets out, ok?"

"Scouts honour."

"Apparently they're friends with the owner. Otherwise, I wouldn't even let them in. But last night, they set some guy up."

"How?" Eric asked.

"One of their girlfriends led this guy on; he looked like he could pass for one of them WWE-types..."

"All muscle and no brains?" Sorry, Randy!

"That's the type...anyway, they chased him out of here and from what I heard, did a real number on him in an alley somewhere... but you didn't hear that from me, right?"

JACKPOT!!!!

"They got names?" Eric asked

"If they do, I've never heard them. Excuse me." A scuffle had broken out on the other side of the club.

Eric noticed Jeff still hanging out on the other side of the bar. He quietly signalled toward the bathroom.

They pretended not to notice each other until they were both washing their hands.

"Anything?" Jeff asked

"The four Biker Mice from Mars at the bar... apparently they did a number on someone last night. Could be our guys?"

"One way to find out."

"I'll be up in five. I'm just gonna check in with Adam. See how our boy is doing."

"Check." Jeff crossed the dance floor, wondering how he could get close enough to confirm what Eric had heard earlier. He saw his opening. One of them was wearing a Hardy Boyz T-shirt!

"What's the strongest stuff you got?" He asked the bartender, making sure the four guys could see his face. Unless the shirt was ripped off a victim, maybe he could use his stardom to his advantage.

"Colt 45 hun."

"I'll take a bottle."

"That'll be..."

"Don't worry, doll... we got this one!" As Jeff had hoped, he was surrounded by the four men, and they did indeed look star-struck.

"Thanks... I appreciate it!"

"You're him, aren't you?" The "fan" slid a little closer to Jeff.

"Maybe." Seeing that Eric hadn't returned, Jeff stalled. "You don't look like wrestling fans."

"Not really. I just like hot guys."

"Really? You do know that I'm married, right?" Jeff flashed the rock on his hand.

All four of them laughed. "Right."

"Serious." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Eric approach. He widened his eyes slightly and Eric nodded, taking a seat on the other side of them.

"Martini. Vodka. Dry." He ordered

"Four and a half, hon."

Eric slapped a twenty on the bar. "Keep the change." He smiled at her.

"You need anything, just ask." The barmaid smiled back. "I'm here all night."

"Hey, Hardy... you gonna introduce me to your friends?" Eric sipped at his drink, eyeing the four men.

"Just who the fuck are you?" The closest one demanded. Eric pretended to ignore him.

"I'm talking to you."

"Knock it off, guys." The barmaid shouted over, afraid that something might happen to her best customer of the evening.

"Shut up, slut!"

Eric swallowed the rest of his drink and stood. "You might want to apologize to the lady."

"Or else what?"

"I dunno." Eric swung at the man and connected, sending him reeling back into his friends. Like a cat, he bounced back and the four of them jumped Eric, pounding him with their fists.

"Hey, leave my guy alone!"

"Oh, isn't that cute! The little fag actually cares about him!" One catcalled. "Finish him, then bring the multi-haired twit. We're gonna have some fun tonight!"

One more punch and Eric fell to the ground, apparently out of it. Jeff was dragged, squealing, from his stool and herded out a back door.

The second they were out of sight, Eric stood.

"You okay, hon?"

"That way?" Eric sprinted after the five men.

Believing that they were in the clear, the gang pushed Jeff into a back alleyway; the same one Randy had been assaulted in the night before.

"Since your bodyguard ain't here, we're gonna have a little fun with you." Jeff was slammed against a wall by one of the thugs. "Mmm... let's see if you got anything worth our while."

"What..." Jeff moaned slightly when a strong pair of fingers reached between his legs. Against his wishes, he started to get hard.

"Nice... maybe we won't hurt you too badly right away." He joked "Ace, Steele, hold him."

"You got it, Blade." The arm across Jeff's throat relaxed just long enough for two pair of arms to replace it, pinning him securely to the wall.

"8-Ball... keep watch."

"You see, Hardy, while I am a fan of yours, I like death a little more, so I'm gonna do a bit of both." The man called Blade rubbed back and forth across the swelling in Jeff's pants, eliciting a little sigh from Jeff and catcalls from his friends. "I am really good at two things... killing people and sucking cock. When I'm done sucking your cock, I'm gonna kill you."

Jeff gulped.

"I'll give you a chance though." Blade laughed "I won't kill you until after you come. So the longer you can hold out, the longer you'll live."

"No, please!!!" Jeff pleaded

"Think of it like this... at least you'll die with a smile on your face." Blade unbuckled Jeff's belt and popped his button.

"This'll be sweet." Blade pulled down Jeff's pants and boxers. His erect cock sprung free and Jeff cursed himself for being so easily aroused. He tried thinking unsexy thoughts... baseball scores... how much debt he was in, but the second Blade wrapped his lips around the head of his penis, Jeff knew he probably had about two minutes to live.

Meanwhile, 8-Ball was cursing his luck. It seemed that almost every time there was a really cute guy gonna get the business, he had to hold guard.

"Why does Blade get to have all the fun?" He groaned

"Beats me." A punch came out of the darkness and 8-Ball fell to his knees. Before he could get his bearings, he suddenly learned to fly, falling down a flight of stairs leading to the basement pool hall, appropriately named "The Corner Pocket".

Not having a clue about what was going on, Blade and his buddies were enjoying the torture they were inflicting on the young Hardy Boy.

"I don't think he's gonna last much longer." Ace laughed, watching Jeff's face contort.

"Nor do I? Isn't that right, boy... you're gonna shoot your wad, then Blade's gonna splatter your brains all over this wall." Steele growled in Jeff's ear.

"Hey, 8-Ball... any signs of that guy's friend?" Ace looked over his shoulder

No reply from the guard. He was currently spilling his blood at the bottom of a cement staircase.

"Where the fuck has he gone?" Blade took Jeff's dick out of his mouth. "You two find that fudge-packer and get his ass back here. I'll take care of our friend."

Ace and Steele booked down the alley. "Now it's just you and me... time to finish you." He grabbed Jeff's spit-slicked cock and started jerking it.

"No!!!!" Jeff moaned, unable to hold himself off any longer. He shot, covering Blade's hand as well as his stomach with his juice.

"Nice... but like I said, at least you'll die with a smile on your face."

Jeff stared blankly at the pistol that was placed between his eyes.

"Now smile."

THUNK!

The evil grin that was on Blade's face was suddenly gone, replaced by a look of shock. He suddenly pitched forward onto Jeff and that's when he saw the knife in his back. Jeff screamed, pushing Blade away.

"Sorry I took so long." Eric pulled the knife from Blade's back like he was removing a turkey leg and wiped it on the inside of the now-deceased's leather jacket.

"Sorry!. I was almost..." Jeff was going to ask Eric what kind of man lets his husband get jerked off by a psycho when Eric's phone rang.

"What's up?" Eric answered while placing a card on the dead man's chest. "Okay, We're on our way."

"Let's go..." Eric took off down the alley and over the fence. Jeff delayed only long enough to pull up his pants and then he followed. By the time Ace & Steele returned, dragging a semi-conscious 8-Ball between them, Eric and Jeff were long gone. The alley was empty except for Blade.

"What the fuck happened?"

"I dunno." Ace replied "It was that Goddamn Hardy Boy, I know it!"

"Are you sure?" Steele shuddered "Look at that."

He pointed to the sign that had been stuck to Blade's chest by way of the knife that had also been used to dispatch him. "I know what you did last night." Had been written in crude blood-red letters.

"Yeah right." Ace crumpled the page and yelled into the sky. "You'll pay for this, you little fuck! I swear it!"

Eric and Jeff sprinted back to their car, parked a safe distance away. "We gotta problem, bro." Eric said

"I know... you just killed a man." Jeff gasped

"It's not that... it's Randy! I'll explain on the way!"

TO BE CONTINUED

Revenge is sooooo sweet, but what about Randy... stay tuned!