Tombstone!!!

The flight from Boston to New York was only a couple of hours, but to the three wrestlers it seemed much longer than that. Randy and Adam were still feeling betrayed by their former friend and spent most of the flight trying to forget what had happened earlier. It wasn't that easy, given that Chris was sitting right across the aisle from them. He, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get there so he could call Mike and make sure he was still alive.

Eric sat in the cafeteria, picking at a plate of food. He didn't feel much like eating, even though he hadn't had a whole lot of sustenance in the past 48 hours. His mind was going in eighty different directions at once, and he felt like he was spinning out of control. When he crashed, he knew it wouldn't be good. He just hoped that it would be soon.

"Eric... Eric Hardy?"

Eric looked toward the voice. It was the nurse from the floor.

"I'm glad I found you."

"Well, you did." Eric returned his stare to the plate of food.

"I just wanted to say that I applaud your decision. God knows, I could never make one like that if it were my husband..."

Eric was confused. Had he made a decision??? Moreover, had he forgotten that he'd made one?

"Excuse me?"

"Your husband. His father said that you two had..."

"That asshole!" Eric ran out of the cafeteria, past the shocked nurse and into the corridor. Looking like a wild man, he ran up the six flights of stairs, and toward Jeff's room, praying that he wasn't too late.

When he burst through the door, panting loudly, he knew that he was too late.

"There. It's done." The doctor said, disconnecting the ventilator.

"What... the... hell... is... going... on?" Eric gasped

"It will all be over soon." Dr. Cartwright addressed Gil.

"Thank-you doctor."

"Hey, just what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Eric yelled

Cartwright looked a little concerned. "I was informed that you two had reached an agreement and wished to terminate the life support immediately."

"What!!! I never signed anything!!" Eric glared at Gil.

"Eric, it's for the best." Gil whispered

"You callous bastard!" Eric's eyes narrowed and he punched Gilbert, knocking the old man into a corner. "Fuck!"

"Well, what are you doing standing there! Plug him back in!"

"I wish it were that easy. But..."

"But what?"

"Don't you see?"

Eric looked. If there was something to be seen, he was missing it.

"Clue me in, doc?"

"He's breathing on his own again."

Eric blinked the tears away and watched Jeff's chest rise and fall evenly.

"Nurse, can you take Mr. Hardy to exam one." Whether the doctor actually thought Gil needed medical attention or he wanted to give Eric some alone time, it didn't matter.

"Right away."

"The next twenty-four hours are crucial. He's not out of the woods yet." Cartwright followed the nurse and a semi-coherent Gil, muttering something about assault, leaving Eric alone with Jeff.

Eric reached over the rail, gripping Jeff's hand in his own. "I don't care what I have to do... just come back to me... please?"

Chris went off on his own the second the plane touched down. He liked to think of himself as "Mr. Popular" with both the fans and the boys in the back, but right now he felt as alone as ever. He went through the motions of getting ready for his match that night, as well as a forced interview with John Cena on "The Highlight Reel". But, ask him, and he would preferred voluntary amputation to work that night.

"That was the worst interview you've ever done!"

"I'm sorry, but I got real problems elsewhere right now. If I wasn't such a company man, I would've called in sick." Chris grumbled

"Worried about Jeff too, huh?" The entire locker room had hoped for some news before they left Boston, but as far they knew, nothing had changed.

"Yeah." Chris sat on one of the nearby packing crates. "I feel so..."

"Helpless?" Cena finished

"Something like that."

Adam and Randy passed by, chatting about their tag match later on. The writers' had been working overtime to compensate for Eric's departure. Not known to him, the office had planned to push Eric over the next few months, culminating in a U.S. title match. Having to now fill a huge void in the programming, they quickly threw team Rated RKO back together.

"Heard anything?" Cena asked

"Sorry, Cena. Nothin'." Randy answered

"Yeah." Adam agreed

"Oh."

"Anyway, we got a match. Later." Without so much as acknowledgement of Chris' presence, they walked into the changing areas.

"You three had a fight?" John had noticed the tension.

"I don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay... you know where I am if you change your mind."

"I know. But you better not even take a shoe off or I'll knock your teeth out."

John was unsure if Chris was serious or not. "How did you...?"

"I stepped out for a bit of air."

"Oh." John turned beet red.

"Don 't worry. No one else knows that you were willing to go gay for Eric to make him feel better." Chris smiled "And I ain't telling anyone, either."

John exhaled, relieved. Looking to his left and right, he whispered. "I'd do the same for you, too."

"Thanks, but I don't need an excuse to see you naked." Chris winked.

"My hotel room or yours?"

They both laughed, Chris' temporarily forgetting his troubles. Also forgetting that he should check in with Mike. He hoped that the kid had half the brains God gave a shoe and would stay on the down low, but right now he wondered if John would help him. For a straight guy, he sure was having weird thoughts lately.

"Mine." Chris got up, leaving a slack-jawed Cena. "Midnight."

Mike needed a place to crash and fast. Despite his half-bro and the others leaving on a jet place, he knew they would return soon and after that, it was fair game. All his old haunts were shot. Maybe if he were in a crowd of people, it wouldn't be so bad. And what were the odds they would look for him in the most obvious place of all? It was this type of logic that often times got him into trouble, but what the hey? Since the gang was no longer, Mike decided that he didn't need the colours anymore. Ditching the leather in a dumpster was as close to a disguise as he felt he needed.

Phil's was packed. It was their retro night and apparently it was the last night for this particular DJ. It wasn't his music, or his crowd, but it was half price beer night. He squeezed his way to the bar and ordered a drink. It was shoulder to shoulder on the dance floor so Mike just stood at the bar and tried to look like he belonged.

"Rye and ginger." Someone Mike had never seen before squished his way in.

Mike sized up this guy while he waited for his drink. He looked about Mike's age, dressed in a beat up leather Jacket, aviator shades and jeans three sizes too small.

"What you lookin' at?"

"Sorry, dude." Mike apologized "I didn't realize I was staring." He still had to remind himself that he longer had the rest of his gang to rely on. It was time to stand on his own two feet, whether he wanted to or not.

"Cool. Name's Joe."

"Mike, people call me Steele though."

"Nice. First time here?"

"Yeah. It's normally not my scene. I'm more of the metal/punk/rave type guy." Mike sipped his beer, trying to figure Joe out. From his look, his first guess was that he belonged to a rival gang, but it didn't fit. Why come to a bar that was a notorious hangout for one gang if you belonged to another???

"This is the only night I come out. Less chance of getting shanked." Joe leaned against the bar, looking at the dance floor, watching several pieces of barely-legal shake their cosmic things to the B-52's.

Mike nodded, feeling uneasy. Had he been made?

"It's time, Mr. Hardy."

"Already?" Eric feigned surprise. It was part of a game they played every night. The nurse would come in and tell him it was time to leave and Eric would try to buy some more time with Jeff.

She smiled. "You have ten minutes while I check his charts."

"Can you take your time?"

"I'll try." She replied "In case you were wondering, the guy you slugged is doing fine. He thinks he passed out and we haven't told him what really happened. Yet."

"And you won't if I continue to be a good boy, right?"

"Whatever you say."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Take care, Jeff... I love you."

For the first time in days, Eric left the hospital feeling happy. He wanted to be around people and have a good time rather than brood by himself. Ironically, the closest hangout was the same bar where he'd first encountered the former gang of four.

"What's the worst that can happen?" He thought

He recognized the one doorman as the same guy he'd talked to earlier.

"Evening." He said, then whispered "One of your friends is here. He's standing at the bar. Just warning you."

Eric nodded understanding. It took a minute for his eyes to acclimatize themselves to the darkness inside, but as soon as they did he saw whom the bouncer had been referring to. He didn't recognize the guy with whom he was talking, but based on the body language, he assumed that he wasn't one of the gang. What he was doing with Mike is best left to the imagination. (Or Imagi-Nation if you will!)

"Oh, well," Eric thought "I've had a good life." Sticking his hands into his pockets, he was comforted by the feel of steel in the left. If this other guy was indeed a friend of the punk he was looking for, hell would have a couple more bodies before the night was out. Assuming, Eric had his way and usually, he did.

He was three feet behind him, when a new song began...

You are an obsession, I cannot sleep

I am a possession unopened at your feet

There is no balance, no equality

Be still I will not accept defeat

"Let's dance." Joe grabbed Mike and bodily took him to the floor. Eric recognized the song from the opening beats and laughed. Eric laughed even louder, almost giving himself away, when Joe, for lack of a better term, started ripping the clothes off of him.

I will have you, yes I will have you

I will find a way and I will have you

Like a butterfly, a wild butterfly

I will collect you and capture you

You are an obsession, you're my obsession

Who do you want me to be to make you sleep with me

"What the...."

Eric used the distraction to sneak up on a now-shirtless Mike, who seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much. Eric nodded at Joe, who stepped back.

"Where you off to?" Mike asked.

"It's more like where you are off to, asshole." Eric grabbed Mike around the throat and quickly gutted him. With the mass of gyrating flesh, nobody noticed one of the partiers suddenly collapse, bleeding profusely.

"My work is done." Eric was halfway out the bar when he was grabbed. It was Joe, the guy Mike had been "dancing" with.

"You got a problem?" Eric demanded

"No. I don't have a problem... that was cool... I've never seen that before..."

Eric quickly flashed a couple Benjamins. "And you've never seen it now, either."

"One question..."

"If you make it fast..." Eric glanced over his shoulder. Nobody had noticed the body on the dance floor yet. How long until someone stepped in it was unknown, but Eric definitely wanted to be elsewhere by then.

"How does it feel? I've always wanted to know."

"Compared to how he feels, it feels awesome. Anyway, I gotta split."

"Cool. Thanks for the money. I'll go buy some drinks, hopefully that'll buy you some time."

"Thanks."

"See you around?" Eric didn't wait for an answer. He was out the door in a flash.

Joe walked back to the bar and was in the middle of ordering another drink when he heard a scream from the dance floor area.

"I guess somebody stepped in it." He thought "I'll have another."

Eric couldn't help feeling a little jumpy on the way back to his house. He just made it inside before the excitement wore off and he started shivering.

"I guess I better let Randy know." He said through chattering teeth.

To his disappointment, he only got Randy's voice mail.

"I got good news and great news. Good news: Jeff is breathing on his own. The great news... mission accomplished. Talk to you later."

"What does he mean 'mission accomplished'?" Randy asked. Several hours had passed since Eric had left the cryptic message.

"Maybe he means that he took care of... oh shit!" Adam exclaimed

"What?" Randy asked

"Eric didn't know! We never told him about Chris' connection!" he groaned

"What do we do?"

"Nothing." Adam whispered "And we sure as hell don't tell Chris."

"Tell me what?"

"I guess we can tell you." Randy stated "We just talked to Eric. Jeff's breathing on his own again."

"Awesome!" Chris replied

"Yeah, we're catching the next flight back. You wanna come?"

"Thanks, but I got a date." Chris smirked. At least he hoped he did.

"Okay, we'll talk to you later." Adam and Randy left the arena.

They waited until they were in Adam's rental car, heading back to the airport, before they even said a word.

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"For all your help. You, Eric, Jeff. I never would've gotten through this without you." Randy smiled for the first time in days.

"We're not out of the woods yet. I hope that we have enough time to settle this before Chris finds out what happened. I can't believe we were that dumb not to tell Eric."

"Tell him what? It's not like we agreed not to hurt the bastard. If anything, he deserved it. Now let's get our asses back to Boston A-sap."

"Yes, sir." Adam put the car in reverse and they were soon on their way.

TO BE CONTINUED

Almost home... is Jeff out of the woods yet? Will Chris find out? Will Eric get away with it? These questions and more will be answered in the next chapter.

Song: "Obsession:" by Animotion copyright 1984

Thanks to all those of you who have reviewed my work so far. I appreciate all the feedback. A special thanks to my brother without whom I couldn't have finished this chapter.