The Last Ride

"Ladies and Gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall..." Tony Chimel bellowed "Currently in the ring, weighing two hundred thirty pounds, Lou Zir, Jr."

"This is a bad idea." Eric stated

"You've been saying that for days." Jericho sided up to him. "And we all agree", we referring to Edge, Randy, and himself, "that you need to do something to take your mind off of your troubles."

It had been close to a week since Jeff's stabbing. He was still in a medically-induced coma to allow his body a chance to heal. Eric had spent many hours at his bedside, hoping that he'd wake up. Even his doctors were starting to worry. He shouldn't have been unconscious for this long, Eric had been told on more than one occasion. He'd shouldered the load bravely as long as he could, but one day, someone had mentioned the words "vegetable" and "pull the plug". Though not in connection to Jeff, Eric had snapped.

Once Vince heard about an incident, he'd immediately ordered Eric into the ring, though no one was willing to be his opponent. Luckily, the feeder system, OVW, "fed" Vince one of their talent. Maybe his contract was almost up????

"And his opponent, now residing in Boston, Mass..."

Eric sprinted down the aisle, through his pyro, blew past the ring announcer and attacked Zir.

Closed fists, throat chops, and other illegal moves quickly ended the match, but Eric was not finished meting out punishment. Agents, referees, and other backstage personnel soon rushed the ring, but Eric refused to let up. It was a stalemate: every time someone got close to him, Eric tossed Zir, who was thankfully unconscious, aside and attacked him. The ring was filling up with bodies and it seemed that it could go on forever, until...

"No chance in hell..." The ominous music signalled the arrival of the chairman. Eric looked anxious... this wasn't in the script, but neither was what he'd spent the last ten minutes doing.

Seeing what was happening in the ring, Vince waited on the ramp.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He yelled

Eric looked at Vince, eyes narrowing. "Nothing." He mouthed.

From his reaction, Vince heard him, though he wasn't miked..

"Nothing!" He repeated "You call this nothing!"

Eric looked at the carnage in the ring, and shrugged his shoulders indifferently.

"Listen, I'm not going to tell you that I know what you're feeling, 'cause I don't." Seeing that Eric was off the warpath for the time being, Vince approached the ring. "But this..."

Eric tuned the rest of Vince's diatribe out. He was too busy thinking that the show had just started, and already the entire night was shot.

"...listening to me?"

Eric grabbed the mic from a shocked Vince. "No, I haven't!" he yelled "You are right... you don't know how I feel. Nobody around here knows how I feel! Seeing my husband lying in a hospital bed, tubes coming out of everywhere, and no one seems to know when or even if he'll wake up!

Vince swallowed.

"And what do you do? Order me into a match!" Eric shouted, getting right in Vince's grill. "This is all your fault!"

"Now wait a minute..."

"No, you wait a minute! Since there is no one in this whole fuckin' company that seems to give a shit about me and Jeff, I'm gonna save you the trouble... I quit!" Eric slammed the microphone into Vince's chest and stormed out of the ring.

"Get back here, Hardy!" Vince ordered. Eric replied with the Stone Cold salute.

Eric stopped backstage only long enough to grab his bag and punch out the coffee maker. "I don't need any of this!" He was out the back door and halfway to his car before someone caught up to him. The someone in question was John Cena.

"Yo, hold up!" He shouted

Eric made a big scene out of tossing his streetwear into the trunk. In his anger and haste to leave, he hadn't even bothered to change out of his tights.

"Don't fuckin' start with me, Cena unless you want some of what I dished out in the ring."

"Easy, easy, I was just gonna say that I'da done the same thing."

"Bullshit, Johnny. You'd never quit in a fit on anger. Hell, you're one of the company's biggest ass-kissers." Eric sneered "Now, if you'll excuse me, I am leaving!"

"The fuck you are." Cena stepped between Eric and the door. "Not until you've calmed down."

"I am calm." He lied

"Yeah. And I'm K-Fed." If John was trying to get Eric to laugh, it wasn't working. Eric felt more worked up than before. "Listen, you know how I deal with stress?"

"Yeah. You walk around the locker room naked. I may be a lot of things, but I ain't no exhibitionist."

"It works, though. So, unless you chill right the fuck out, I'm gonna start stripping." Cena kicked off his shoes, right to Eric.

"Yeah, right, we're right in the middle of the parking lot." Eric retorted.

"So?" Cena removed his socks, balled them up and threw them, hacky-sack style, toward Eric. Like the shoes, Eric batted it aside.

John's hat, shirt, and shorts soon followed.

"I should just tell you I'm chill so you'll stop making an ass of yourself."

"Are you?"

"No." Eric answered. It was not just so he'd see more of John naked... hell, the entire locker room had seen what Cena was carrying and a lucky few, Eric included, had seen it at attention. Something about a shower scene with Torrie or something like that had gone too far.

:"You asked for it." John quickly pushed his boxers down and off. He stood there, hands on hips, wearing nothing but a grey thong.

"This is turning into a fraternity porn flick."

"And you're the evil head master." John replied

Eric rolled his eyes at the almost-nude number one contender. "Your little show notwithstanding, I am going home!" He shouldered past Cena, and into his Viper.

"Then so am I!" Even though his gear was still in the locker room, and his character clothes were scattered across the pavement, John jumped in beside Eric.

"Not like that, you're not!"

"Yeah, you're right." Cena agreed.

"Finally we're on the same... what the hell are you doing?"

John had peeled off his thong and was waving it in front of Eric's face.

"Get that thing away from me!" Eric batted it aside.

"Anything you say." John tossed it over the side. He was now completely naked, except for his wrist guards.

"I am not driving anywhere with you looking like that! For God's sake, I'm married!"

"Whatever." Cena leaned back in the seat, arms behind his head.

"Get out!" Eric tried to stop his hands from shaking.

"Make me!"

"Fine!" Eric reached down between Cena's legs and squeezed.

He'd hoped for some sort of reaction from Cena, like a "What the fuck?" or something like that. Hell, he would've been happy if Cena had taken a swing at him. What he didn't expect was a gasp, almost like he'd been hoping for that kind of reaction.

"Don't tell me you're one too?" Eric was starting to wonder if anyone in the company was straight anymore.

"Dude, if it'll help you relax, I'll be whatever you want me to be." John looked down at his member, which had started to twitch.

First Adam, and now John. I'm turning into the company slut, Eric thought.

"John... I can't." Eric turned away.

"Can't what?"

"This." Eric pointed to Cena's dick, now fully erect. "I mean I want to, but..."

"Do you consider the five fingers cheating???" John asked

"No. If it was, I'd be paying alimony until the Rapture. But what does that have to do with my problems?"

"Nothing. Just sit back and enjoy the show." John spit into his hand and gripped himself.

Eric watched and found that, as he focused on what John was doing, he forgot his other problems for the moment and the murderous rage that had consumed him was slowly dissipating. His ragged breathing also slowed down. Usually, watching stuff like this got him worked up, but tonight it was having the opposite effect.

"You look like you're chillin' now." John said

"It is sorta hypnotic." Eric replied

"Cool. 'Coz I go no much longer without... y'know... popping my cork."

"Then stop."

"Can't..." Cena quickened his pace.

"Then don't mess my upholstery." Eric got out of the car and gathered Cena's gear. He found everything except the thong.

"Here. You'll need these." Eric cocked his head at John, who was looking sheepish, a spray of white fluid covering his chest and abs.

"Sorry, dude, I couldn't..."

"Uh huh... Wet Wipes are in the glove box." Eric waited for Cena to clean and re-clothe himself.

"Did it help?"

Eric thought. He sure felt calmer, more relaxed than he had in days, but now he was nagged by feelings of guilt. Without getting too specific, he'd probably have to tell Jeff about this indiscretion.

"Enough, but not enough for me to go back to ask for my job back." He replied

John looked pleased. "Anything for a friend."

"I do have to go." Eric never was much for after-sex talk. Usually, five minutes after he and Jeff concluded their lovemaking, one or both of them was already asleep.

"Whatever." John got out and leaned over the door. "I'm sure I'll see you around."

"If not, whatever." Eric backed up and floored it out of the lot. His next stop, the hospital.

Eric spent the rest of the night the same way he'd spent most of the past week... in the waiting room at the hospital. After the first night, he didn't want to face what might happen alone. Usually he ended up crashed out on one of the chairs, and the second visiting hours began, he was at Jeff's side. He settled down for another sleepless night.

"Hey, Eric. I thought I'd find you here." It was Jericho.

"Where else would I be?"

"No need to rip me a new one. I'm not the enemy. Mind?"

"Only if you chow quietly."

"Any news?" Chris demanded

Eric shook his head sadly. "Not a word. He's still in the coma."

Chris took a second to digest this. "Can I ask you something?"

"As long as you keep your clothes on." Eric smirked

"Oh-kay... I won't ask. If you had to choose between family and friends, who would ya pick?"

Eric pondered the idea. "Depends on why I'd have to pick."

"Say there was a situation involving a friend of yours, and you knew some information that might help, but if you told him or her, it would fuck up your family, would you do it?"

"I guess it would all hang on how much I cared about all the individuals involved."

Chris paused.

"Are you just asking in the abstract, or is there a specific person that this applies to?"

"Just wond'rin. Can't blame a guy for askin' opinions, eh?"

"I'm glad I could help... I think." Eric sighed "But if I were in the shoes of this hypothetical person, without knowing the specific dynamics, I go with my blood. Bro's before ho's, right?"

"Thanks for the advice..."

"Any time." Eric responded, staring at the TV. A rerun of "Everybody Loves Raymond" was on. One of the many shows Eric despised.

""I'll talk to you later." Chris stood up to leave.

"Doubt it." Eric snickered "What happened tonight wasn't a shoot, Chris. I'm finished with the WWE."

"Heard that before." Chris mumbled, walking out the door. Eric didn't hear that bit, fortunately.

Sliding behind the wheel of his rental car, Chris turned on the radio. "Okay, you can sit up now."

A familiar face appeared. "What'd he say?"

"Your secret is safe for now. He told me that he would've chosen family."

"Thanks, bro."

"Half-brother, Mike. Don't make our relationship any closer than it is. And it beats the shit outta me why I am doing this for you." Chris stated

"I didn't ask for your help!" Mike responded

"Yeah, but if I hadn't warned you, you'd be like your buddies. Stabbed to death or crushed under a garbage truck. Do you want that?"

"Don't blame me, brother. I didn't know what Blade had planned. We were just gonna mess him up a little."

"I don't believe you." Chris responded "And I am not gonna bail you out ever again. The next time you fuck up, it's on your head. Am I clear?"

"Crystal."

"Now get outta my car!"

Mike got out, looking more like a freshman on the first day of high school rather than a street tough.

"Just lay low."

Mike ran across the parking lot and down the street. Once he was out of sight, Chris drove out the other way, mumbling all the way back to the airport. If Mike could stay out of sight until they had to leave for their next show, maybe he'd be alright. For his sake, Chris hoped so.

Like many others, Eric slept that night in the waiting room. The moment visiting hours began, he returned to Jeff's side. The days seemed to blend together. There was never any change, but Eric vowed to stay as long as it took.

This morning was different, though. Eric could feel something was 'off'. The hospital staff seemed to be looking at him differently. He hoped it was because of his appearance.

When he entered the room, it was apparent that his appearance was not the cause of the change in atmosphere. For one thing, Jeff's bed was empty.

Eric's first thought was that he'd entered the wrong room, but a quick check of the door confirmed his location. "Uh, nurse, did they move him?"

"Sir?"

"Jeff Hardy?"

"Uh, I think you'd better talk to his doctor. Page Doctor Cartwright."

"Can you at least tell me why he was moved and no one bothered to tell me. Dammit, I was in the waiting room all night!"

"I think it would be better if you waited for his doctor. He knows more than I do about the case."

"Can you at least tell me if he's still alive?" Eric demanded

"Dr. Cartwright will be along in a few minutes. He's the one to talk to."

Eric waited... and waited... and waited... and waited... it was almost an hour before someone came to talk to him.

"Eric... Eric Hardy?"

"Here." Eric croaked, his mouth feeling like it had been stuffed with cotton.

"Dr. Cartwright is in a marathon surgery right now. He asked me to talk to you."

"Well?"

"I think it would be better to talk in my office. Will you follow me? I have some bad news."

TO BE CONTNUED

Things are about to get serious for all parties involved. But you'll have to stay tuned to see how it turns out! I'm still writing by the seat of the pants right now. My original scriptment is now confetti so I hope you're enjoying this.

Again, any and all feedback is appreciated!