AN: Not much to say here. This is the last chapter of The Darkness That Divides, so yeah. I hope you all liked it. I don't know if this series will continue or not. It really depends on if I get another idea at random... again. Anyway, I've been debating on writing Life Debt, the prequel to The Darkness That Consumes, but I don't think it will happen. I didn't really get that much into the back story with them. Anyway, I'll let you all know, probably on my Twitter page. Anyway, let's move along!!
Disclaimer: I do not own World Wrestling Entertainment or any of the wrestlers mentioned herein. The wrestlers portrayed in this act of fiction are property and copyright of the WWE and their respective owners.
TheDarknessThatDivides
It was cooler that night, the night of the deaths of Katie Lea and Chris Masters. The sky and moon were clear, the latter large and bright in the night sky. Footsteps moved through the park, softly, slowly, almost as though someone was thinking. And he was. Phil couldn't believe that he had attacked Matt. He couldn't believe Matt had attacked him. Yet, all that rage that had been built up afterward, was now gone. He didn't feel like he wanted to hurt Matt... No, now he just wanted Matt. He missed his lover, the elder, darker Hardy that fit with him so perfectly.
Phil stopped when he became aware of where he was. This was the same place that he and Matt had gotten those two from Kane's gang – Hunter had said their names were Ted and Cody – in trouble with the cops. He smiled slightly, remembering the moment. Afterward, they had gone back home and joked about it, laughing at how the other two could have been so oblivious to the plan. Whether they were or not didn't matter. Phil and Matt had fun with it anyway.
Phil heard something, and turned, hand going to where his gun should be. That was when he remembered that he didn't have his gun on him. He had taken off from the house in such a rush after Matt had hit him, that he forgot all about it. However, as a figure raised his hands and walked into the light, his stance that of someone trying to tell the other person that he wanted no trouble, and wasn't armed.
"Phil..."
That voice, that soft Southern undertone hidden in it, made Phil want to cry. He moved over toward it, seeing the figure more clearly now. Matt stood there, his hair pulled back, a black hoodie over his body. Phil moved over to him, wrapping his arms around Matt's body, almost crying in relief when Matt did the same.
"I'm so sorry, Matt..." he whispered, clinging to his lover. "I don't know why I did it... I don't know what happened." He could feel one of Matt's hands rubbing his back.
"I know, Phil. I'm sorry too. We did it because... well, it's a long story," Matt replied, his tone sheepish. Phil pulled away, olive and brown meeting.
"Wanna walk? It's a big park." Matt smiled.
"I'd love to."
TheDarknessThatDivides
Mike was running down the street. Away from the smoke billowing on the dock, away from the corpse that was burnt in the warehouse, away from the horrible past few days. He stopped at a corner, looking left and right, trying to remember where the house was. Believable or not, but Mike had done his research after John left. He looked up the most likely places for the ex-detective to go. John's parents were in Massachusetts, and it was unlikely that he would go there. However, it turned out that John was very close to his ex-partner, a woman named Mickie James. So, Mike found out where it was Mickie lived and remembered it so that he could go there. However, now he wasn't sure if he was in the right place...
Mike cursed under his breath, turning right and continuing to run. He saw the building and skidded slightly to stop, having to grab a light pole on the side of the road. He jogged to the right building, managing to slide in before the door closed. Someone else had either just left or just gone in, but Mike didn't really care how he managed to get into the building. He jogged up the stairs, taking them two at a time, praying to whatever god still loved him that John would be there. He found the room and stopped, gasping for air, bringing oxygen back into his burning lungs. He stood up, suddenly nervous. What if John didn't want him back? What if the spell only pushed forward feelings that John had already felt?
Mike shook his head, one hand subconsciously touching his face, where he knew the bruises were. He sighed and knocked, hearing a confused noise from behind the door. A minute later, a big blond woman opened the door.
"Don't you know how to use a goddamn buzzer?" she asked, eyes narrowed. Mike's eyes narrowed right back.
"Don't you know how to answer a goddamn door?" he fired back. "Besides, it's kind of an emergency. I'm looking for John Cena." The woman frowned.
"You're Mike, right?" she asked. Mike blinked, his blue eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"Yeah, what of it?" Mike was antsy. It wasn't exactly a good thing for people to know him when he did what he did. Actually, it was a horrible thing. It was actually one of the worst things that could happen.
"Come in then, kid," she said, moving aside. Mike entered the apartment, feeling like he should be ready for a trap. However, when he saw John sitting on the chair, laughing with a brunette woman, a can of soda in his hand, Mike stopped. He almost ran back out the door, but the blond woman closed the door, almost as though she could sense what he wanted to do.
"John," the woman said. John looked up, his blue eyes meeting Mike's almost immediately. The smile died from his face, the laughter gone. He put the can down, and Mike was vaguely aware that the blond sat next to the brunette, who was looking at them. John started to get up, and Mike shook his head.
"I'm sorry... I should..." he started, but couldn't figure out what he wanted to say. John moved over to him, standing in front of Mike, who wouldn't meet his eyes.
"Mike..." he muttered. Mike slowly lifted his eyes, meeting John's gaze. John put his hand on Mike's cheek, carefully cupping it in his big, warm hand. Then, his hand moved to Mike's neck, pulling the younger man closer to him. Their lips met, and Mike moaned, wrapping his arms around John's neck, responding like fire, feeling what he compared to a puzzle piece clicking into place. John's arms slipped around his waist and he held Mike close, his tongue slipping past Mike's lips, tasting the sweetness of Mike's mouth that he had missed. A soft moan slipping out of Mike caused John to stop.
"Mike..." John's thumb caressed Mike's cheek, before he moved, looking at the women. "This is Mickie James and Beth Phoenix. They're my friends..." he said. Mike nodded, waving to them almost shyly. The brunette, Mickie, laughed.
"Get out of here, John. It's obvious you'd rather be with Mike than with us. We're not offended. Get outta here."
John smiled and waved good bye as he walked out, holding hands with Mike.
"I've got to tell you what happened. You'll never believe it," Mike stated. John shrugged. He didn't really care if he'd believe it or not. He had Mike back, so, as far as he was concerned, the world was right again.
TheDarknessThatDivides
Like he had been the night they had acknowledged their love, Jeff was on the same street, at the same light pole, hanging upside down, his legs wrapped around the neck of the light pole, hanging over the sidewalk. He was still dripping blood that wasn't his, Katie Lea's blood pooling at the base of the pole. No one bothered him; who would? A man, covered in blood, that was clearly unharmed? Besides, no one was really around. This left Jeff time to think.
The whole thing with Hunter was only because of the curse. They were still married, they were still in love. But... It didn't change the fact that he had done it. Jeff was confused by the whole thing, unable to know for sure whether it had just been the curse. Then again, Jeff had already faced trying to live without his husband, and it would be too hard for him to do. Jeff had a bad enough past... He didn't want to drop back into that fog of drug addiction and depression. It wasn't going to happen.
Besides, he had already asked Victoria about the gift...
Jeff was distracted, so much so that he didn't see the man who walked up next to him, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a tight black shirt that was covered by a leather jacket. He didn't notice the sad brown eyes that looked at him, but he did notice the way the man cleared his throat. Jeff jumped, his legs loosening. Before he hit the ground, however, the man caught him, his arms wrapping around the bloody, slim body. He laughed softly, and Jeff pouted.
"Asshole," he said. Both of them stopped, looking at one another. Hunter loosened his arms when Jeff looked away, allowing the smaller man to drop to his feet. Hunter took a minute and looked at his hand, which was covered with blood. He frowned, looking at Jeff.
"None of it's mine," he stated softly, raising green eyes to look at his husband.
"I figured," Hunter said softly. They stood in silence, before they both started moved, Jeff's arms going around Hunter's neck, and Hunter's going around his waist. Their lips met, a flurry of lips, teeth, tongues.
"I'm so sorry," Hunter muttered against Jeff's lips. Jeff groaned and pushed Hunter hard, pinning him to the wall.
"Don't be sorry. Be horny," Jeff responded. Hunter chuckled softly, gently pushing Jeff off of him.
"What happened?" he asked. Jeff shrugged.
"To paraphrase Rey's message to Mark, we're now free from the darkness that divides," Jeff replied. Hunter rolled his eyes.
"Seriously, Rainbow."
"Seriously? I took care of it."
"Holy shit, the tranny's covered in blood."
Hunter and Jeff froze, both slowly turning their heads to the side. A smile broke Jeff's face, while a look of pure shock covered Hunter's.
"... Randy?!"
END
AN: Dun dun dun! Yeup!! It was Randy that Jeff wanted revived. Special present to his hubby!! That's the end folks. Like I said earlier, we'll see what happens if I come up with any ideas, but this may just be the end of the series. Anyway, the next story I'm considering is another Mizena, though I am working on a different one. Anyway, you'll find out soon enough!!
.: TheMizMagnet :.