Dark Saviour

Chapter 18 - Disturbing Discoveries

….

"Will you be okay here by yourself?" Taker asked, shouldering his bag.

"I'll be fine, I've got tons of movies to keep me occupied while you're gone. You don't have to worry about me," Jeff smiled looking over at the Deadman. "I don't need a babysitter."

Undertaker shook his head, chuckling. "I just wanted to make sure that my things would be safe here. I don't need you getting bored and rummaging through them."

Jeff placed his hand on his chest in feign shock. "How could you accuse me of such a thing?"

"Easily," Taker smiled. "But if you say that you'll be good, then I'll trust you on that."

"Thank you," Jeff nodded, smiling. "Now you better get going. Don't want to be late for your match. You already missed over half the show."

"I won't be late. Even if I left one minute before the show, I would arrive on time."

"With the way you drive, I wouldn't doubt it," Jeff laughed, getting up off the bed. "Just don't get into any accidents."

"And why would I get into an accident?"

"Not you, exactly. But others may get into an accident with you. I don't want you to scratch up that bike of yours."

"I won't scratch the bike. Anyone who so much as touches my bike however . . ."

"They're dead," Jeff finished.

Taker nodded.

"Is that warning directed at me too?"

Undertaker shook his head. "No. I know that you know how to treat them right."

"Damn straight," Jeff nodded, rubbing his head. "Besides I know first hand the pain you inflict when someone touches your bike."

"That too."

"Now get going."

"I'm going, I'm going," Taker said, smiling as he left. Jeff closed the door, laughing at the entire situation. He still couldn't quite believe how easy it had been to share space with Taker, let alone talk and laugh with him.

For all the talk on being alone, he sure seems to like being around me. Maybe we all judge him too quickly like Matt did.

With that thought floating in his mind, Jeff walked over to his bag and rummaged deep into it until he found his little bottle of pills. He quickly popped a couple into his mouth before shoving the bottle back into the bottom of the bag.

I know I should stop, but it's so hard . . .

Jeff tossed his bag back onto the floor before grabbing a DVD from the table. He quickly put the movie into the machine before heading back to his bed. However, before he could crawl underneath the covers, a soft glimmer caught his eye. Jeff looked over at Undertaker's bag as the light bounced off the corner of a silver frame. Looking quickly at the door to make sure he wouldn't get caught, he moved toward the bag and quickly pulled out the picture frame. He smiled down at the smiling face of Taker, lightly running his finger over the frame.

He looks so happy. Too bad things had to happen like they did, Jeff thought sadly, his eyes traveling over the man in Undertaker's arms. I wonder if they had been more then friends? he mused as he looked closer at Chris and Taker.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, Jeff walked over to his bed and crawled in, still clutching the picture to his body. He fast-forwarded through the previews, barely stopping in time to catch the beginning of Bad Boys.

An oldie but a goodie. Jeff mused as he let himself relax a bit. He was just getting into the movie when there was a knock on his door. Sighing, he rolled out of bed, quickly stashing the picture under his pillow, not wanting to get caught with something so personal to Taker. As he opened the door, he instantly regretted his decision.

"Hey, babe. Did you miss me?"

"No," Jeff replied, quickly moving to close the door. Unfortunately, Cena was prepared for that and managed to force his way into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Tsk, tsk. I thought that a couple of weeks left alone with your memories of what happened to Shannon, might have changed your attitude."

"What do you want, John?" Jeff asked, backing away.

"What? Can't I see my lover?" Cena asked, moving toward Jeff.

"I'm not your lover," Jeff snapped, backing away even more, trying to put as much distance and objects between them.

"Okay, my fuck buddy then? Is that better?"

"Get out of here, John, or I'll . . ."

"Or you'll what?" Cena taunted, moving closer to Jeff, forcing the Rainbow Haired Warrior to back into a wall. "Your threats are meaningless. You can't do anything to me. But I can do a lot to you."

"Leave . . ." Jeff whispered, wishing desperately that he hadn't backed himself into a corner as Cena ran a finger along his jaw.

"And miss watching SmackDown with you? I don't think so," Cena smiled, backing off slightly so that he could lie down on the bed, patting the spot next to him slowly. Jeff hesitated, his eyes drifting over to the silver frame that was peaking out from underneath his pillow.

If John sees that . . . Jeff thought, instantly making up his mind as he moved to sit beside Cena, putting himself between Taker's treasure and his nightmare. If I sit here, I can keep him from finding the picture. I need to keep him from targeting Mark.

"Interesting choice in movie," Cena said, running his fingers lightly up Jeff's bare arm. "Do you want to be a Bad Boy?"

"If I did, it wouldn't be with you," Jeff snapped. He may want to protect Undertaker from getting hurt, but he wouldn't lower himself further by being completely nice to Cena.

"Oh, I know exactly who you'd like to be bad with," Cena whispered softly into Jeff's ear, a small smile coming to his lips as he felt the man shudder beside him.

"I highly doubt it," Jeff replied as he tried to keep his voice level.

"I do," Cena insisted. "You want Mark, don't you?"

"I don't think so," Jeff retorted as he bit the inside of his cheek, choosing not to look at Cena, less he give himself away.

Cena shook his head as he turned off the movie and flicked over to the station that held SmackDown. "Oh, but I know you want him," he replied, watching as Undertaker came down the ramp for his tag-team match. "I mean, who wouldn't?"

"Like I said, I don't think so," Jeff responded, folding his arms across his chest, still not looking at Cena.

Cena glanced over at Jeff, smirking. "And I'm supposed to believe that because?"

"You believe what you want," Jeff answered, finally glancing over at Cena.

"Well, you better just see to it that nothing does happen between you and Mark. I'd hate to have to make an example out of him to."

"You wouldn't?" Jeff yelled in horror, standing up quickly. "You said no one else had to get hurt!"

"I thought he meant nothing to you?"

"He doesn't, I mean, he's a friend. He doesn't know anything. He's just a friend," Jeff replied, almost pleading with the man before him.

"For just a friend, you're awfully protective of him," Cena mused, scratching at his chin.

"Well, after what happened to Shannon . . ." Jeff paused, looking away.

Cena smiled as Jeff visibly squirmed in front of him. "At least you seemed to have learned your lesson," he nodded, patting the bed again. "Come, lie back down."

Jeff hesitated, not liking where this was going. "You won't hurt Mark?"

"I won't hurt him," Cena nodded in agreement. I'll just get others to do that for me.

Jeff nodded, taking Cena at his word. It was all he could do. If he refused Cena, Taker would definitely be hurt. If he complied, then the chance of Undertaker being hurt by Cena's hand would be slim.

I hope . . .

Closing his eyes and swallowing past the lump that had grown in his throat, Jeff lay down next to Cena, trying hard not to roll away when the man came closer to him. He vaguely saw Undertaker stare down his teammates after the match, ready for an attack, but he missed what happened next as he closed his eyes, hoping to block out everything around him.

Cena lightly caressed Jeff's side as he kissed the smaller man's neck. He loved the way Jeff tried hard not to squirm away from him. He paused in his slow torture long enough to watch as Undertaker stood over the fallen Superstars: both opponents and teammates alike. He smirked lightly before returning his attention to the man beside him.

Now he only has to win at No Way Out on Sunday and everything will work out great. My pawns are lined up and ready to take out the Deadman. Once he's out of the way, nothing will stand in mine. Jeff will be left alone once more and with no one willing to come to his defense, he will be all mine.

Cena smiled at that thought until he felt something hard hidden beneath Jeff's pillow. As he slowly pulled the frame out, he saw a spark of terror flash in Jeff's eyes. As he stared at the picture, he felt his anger begin to rise. He glared down at Jeff.

"What the hell is this?"

….

Undertaker slowly walked through the gorilla position and made his way toward the locker rooms. As he walked down the halls, he felt the familiar tingling sensation at the back of his neck, letting him know instantly that he was being followed. Not really caring who was behind him, Taker continued to the locker room, choosing to ignore the person trying to sneak up on him. Once he reached the room, he opened the door and stepped inside, still not bothering to look behind him. While standing at his locker, removing his ring gear, he heard the door open behind him before being closed forcefully. It was only then that he turned and saw that his follower had been Edge.

Undertaker raised a brow at the younger man. "Is there a reason why you're following me?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Edge replied curtly.

"About what?" Taker asked as he put his hat into his locker to be packed last.

"I want you to leave Jeff alone."

Taker turned away, his emotions carefully hidden. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Stay away from Jeff. He's been through enough without you getting involved in his personal life."

"Where is this coming from, Adam?"

"I don't want Jeff to get hurt. So, please, just back off."

"I'm not doing anything to him," Taker said, looking down at the smaller man.

"I know what you've been doing, so just stop it. The kid is messed up enough already."

"Kid? Why did you call him kid?"

"It doesn't matter. Just don't mess him up any more."

"I'm not messing him up," Taker said, growing slightly annoyed with Edge. "Why would you even think that?"

"I've heard what's going on between you two."

"There's nothing going on! Why do people keep thinking that something is going on when there is absolutely nothing happening?" Taker snapped slightly.

"Because we know something is!" Edge yelled. "Don't deny it!"

"I'm going to deny it until you tell me exactly what the fuck is going on."

"Own up, Mark. I know you're the one beating up Jeff. You're the one who is giving him all those bruises and making him scared of his own shadow."

"You honestly think I'd do something like that to the kid?" Taker asked in disbelief.

"Hell yeah. You're the only one who can. You're the only one alone with him these days."

"Haven't you noticed that since I've started spending time with Jeff, that his bruises have disappeared?"

"Like hell they have! You've just gotten better at making sure they're only in places he can easily cover up," Edge yelled, getting up in the Phenom's face. "You need to listen to me and just stay away from him."

"What if I don't?" Taker asked, wondering how far Edge was willing to go to protect Jeff and yet not willing to confide in Edge just yet. If I leave Jeff now, he will be an open target for whoever attacked him in the first place. I can't leave him unprotected.

"Then I'll have to take drastic measures," Edge said in a warning tone.

"If you do something like that, then you would be doing more harm then good," Undertaker retorted.

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. I'm just giving you the facts," Taker answered. "I won't leave him to be attacked again."

"By you, you mean," Edge snapped, trying hard to restrain himself. He really wanted to hit Undertaker at the moment.

"I don't know who has been targeting Jeff. All I know is that since he started rooming with me, they've stopped."

"Yeah, because you told them to," Edge snapped. "You got what you wanted. You got Jeff in the same room as you."

"Why would I want to hurt him?"

"How should I know how your dark, twisted mind works?"

"What the hell has gotten into people lately?" Taker asked, throwing his hands up into the air. "Has everyone gone insane?"

"No, only you," Edge snapped, looking at the Deadman with contempt.

"Not from where I'm standing," Undertaker replied.

It was then that Edge snapped. He had been clenching and unclenching his fists during the whole exchange, but now, with a clenched fist he caught Taker under his chin in an uppercut. Undertaker was shocked by the sudden impact that he fell into the locker roughly, knocking the wind out of him. He slid to the floor, unconsciously covering his head as Edge continued his attack. Eventually, Undertaker was able to regain some of his senses and was able to push Edge away from him. Edge, who was not expecting the move, tripped over his feet and fell to the ground, biting his lip in the process. Both men stared at each other, panting.

Edge was the first to regain his footing. As he spat out some blood, he glared at Taker. "Stay away from him, Mark, or by the gods, I will make your life a living hell. I will end your career." Turning on his heel, Edge stormed out, leaving a very confused Undertaker on the ground.

What the hell is going on here? Did John already start spreading those fucking rumors? What is that bastard playing at?

Not knowing what else to do, Undertaker got up, finished putting his things away and left the arena, all the time thinking about what had transpired. Things were really spiraling out of control.

I've got to talk to Jeff. Whether he wants to or not, I have got to talk to him. This has to end now. For both his safety and my sanity.

….

Taker walked down the hall of the hotel, his mind still going over everything he knew about what was going on. There were so many holes in the story that he didn't even know where to begin to make connections.

Damn it. You try to be nice to someone and look where it gets you. Rumors, threats and getting beaten up in a locker room . . . Taker paused to touch the slight bruise that had formed along the left side of his jaw. I think I'd rather go back to my darker days than deal with this.

Even as he thought the words, he knew he never wanted to return to those days. For the first time in months, he didn't even want to return to the good times he had with Chris and that scared him more than anything.

Sighing, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and found that the door was locked. Frowning, Taker fished out his keys and unlocked the door. His confusion grew when he opened the door and found the room complete dark, no light penetrated the room at all. He dumped his bag on the chair next to the door and flicked on the light.

He stared in horror at the scene that was before him. The room was a complete disaster. Tables were upturned, clothes were tossed everywhere and there was even a broken glass in the middle of the floor while the sheets had been completely torn from Jeff's bed. Upon closer inspection of the wall, Taker could swear that there was blood smeared on it.

Undertaker could feel the panic rising in his chest. What the hell happened here? Where's Jeff?

Taker walked into the room slowly, closing the door silently behind him. He gingerly made his way to the lump of sheets on his bed.

"Jeff?" he called softly. He swore he could see the sheets move but it was so small that he couldn't be positive. As he got closer, he could see a strand of bright red hair peeking out from among the folds in the sheets.

"Jeff?" Taker repeated, placing his hand lightly on the lump so as to not cause Jeff any harm if he was indeed under the blankets. This time, he could obviously see the lump move as well as feel it under his palm before he pulled it away in surprise.

"Jeff? It's me, Mark. What happened here?" Taker asked softly, as he sat on the bed and placed his hand on the lump again. He could feel the kid shaking badly under his palm.

"It's okay, it's just me," Undertaker whispered, lifting the corner of the sheet a little so he could see Jeff's face. Undertaker nearly cried out in horror at what he saw. Jeff's entire face was bloody and bruised.

"Jeff! Who the hell did this to you?" Taker asked as he gently lifted up the younger man so that he was cradled in his arms. Undertaker gently pushed Jeff's hair out of his face to get a better look at the damage.

"Jeff? Who did this to you?" Taker asked again as he cradled the battered Rainbow Haired Warrior.

Jeff didn't reply.

"Can you hear me?" Taker asked, slightly afraid that he had fallen unconscious. He was relieved of that fear when Jeff gave a small nod. Thank god he's still awake, Undertaker thought as he held onto the bundle in his arms a little tighter.

Taker's eyes roamed over Jeff, noticing that in certain places, it looked like the blood had managed to soak through the sheets. He leaned his head against the top of Jeff's, closing his eyes. It was then that he noticed that the room held the strong smell of blood and a hint of something else that Taker couldn't put his finger on it.

"I'm sorry . . ."

Undertaker looked down to see a pair of dazed hazel eyes looking up at him. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Jeff whispered hoarsely again, coughing slightly as the words irritated his dry throat.

"For what?" Taker asked, gently pushing more hair out of Jeff's face, trying to sooth the smaller man.

"For going . . . through your . . . stuff . . ." Jeff replied slowly, his breathing ragged.

"You went through it?" Taker asked, not quite sure why Jeff was confessing to this to him now.

Jeff nodded slightly, barely moving his head. "I . . . broke . . ." he stopped.

"You broke?"

Jeff let his glazed eyes glance over at the floor where the shattered glass was. Taker looked up, following the direction Jeff appeared to be looking at. It was then that he noticed that it wasn't a glass that had shattered in the middle of the floor like he had originally thought, but a silver picture frame.

Taker's heart wrenched in his chest as he saw the frame that Chris had given to him for Christmas one year laying in pieces on the floor. Closing his eyes, he didn't allow himself to speculate on what happened to the picture inside it.

There will be time later to think about it. Right now, the most important thing is Jeff.

"I . . . I was able to . . . rescue . . . the picture," Jeff breathed.

Taker opened his eyes to see that Jeff was looking at him again. Jeff licked his cracked lips, swallowing what little moisture was in his mouth before speaking again. "It's . . . under . . . your pillow," he sighed.

Undertaker nodded, refusing to listen to the part of his mind that screamed at him to reach under his pillow to confirm what Jeff was saying. He knew in his heart that Jeff was telling him the truth.

"Don't worry about it," Taker muttered softly.

"But . . ."

"Don't worry about it. I can always get another one."

"But . . . Chris is . . ."

"I have duplicates," Taker muttered, holding Jeff closer to him. He could feel Jeff nod against his chest. "What I'm more concerned about is how I'm going to get you to the hospital."

"No hospital."

"I know you don't like them but I think that you should really go this time. You're pretty battered."

"No."

"Jeff . . ." Taker said, slightly pleading with the kid.

"Mark."

Taker sighed, wiping away a smear of blood from above Jeff's eye before it ran into it. Jeff closed his eyes with a sigh before going limp in Taker's arms. Undertaker quickly moved his hand to Jeff's neck, afraid that the man had died on him. Luckily, he could still feel a faint pulse beating under the tender flesh.

Undertaker cradled Jeff tightly in his arms, his emotions raging inside him. Jeff needed to go to the hospital, but he didn't want to go there. So, did Taker listen to what Jeff wanted and not go to the hospital? Or did he follow his instincts and take the kid there anyway?

Shit. He's supposed to be in that chamber match this weekend. He's in no condition to be doing anything like that, especially if he stays here tonight instead of going to the hospital.

Taker sat for a moment longer before making up his mind. He didn't care if he had to carry the younger man all the way to a hospital but Jeff was going to go to one. Undertaker refused to be the reason Jeff ended up in any worse condition than what he was. Come hell or high water, Jeff was going. Taker quickly, but gently, wrapped the smaller man in clean blankets before he left Jeff in the room and headed to another room down the hall where he pounded on the door.

After a few minutes, Kane answered the door, blurry eyed. "What the hell's your problem?"

"I need your keys."

"What the hell for?" Kane asked, scanning his brother from head to toe.

"Please, Glen. Just give me the keys."

Kane frowned at Taker. "What's happened?" he nodded at his brother's disheveled appearance and what appeared like blood on his cheek.

"I'll tell to you later. Just give me the keys."

"Okay, okay. Here," Kane replied, handing over the keys to his truck. "Do you need help?"

"I've got it, thanks," Taker said over his shoulder as he turned to head back to his room. Once he was back in the hotel room, he gently picked up the still unconscious Jeff and carefully carried the smaller man down the hallway and out the hotel. He thanked whatever god was watching over him that no one was there to stop and question him. Taker wasn't sure how he could answer the questions that they would likely ask.

Undertaker gently placed his precious bundle in the back seat of Kane's truck, lying Jeff on his side. He would have put him in the front seat but Taker didn't want to cause the man any more pain then necessary. He quickly jumped behind the wheel of the truck and, even though he broke about 100 rules of the road, took off for the nearest hospital.

….

Taker sat in the waiting room, trying desperately to keep the full-blown panic he felt from creeping up on him. They had arrived at the hospital nearly four hours ago and Taker had yet to hear anything on Jeff's condition. His frustration and concern growing, Taker leaned forward, resting his head in both of his hands, wanting desperately to throw something or scream.

With all these people staring at me, I feel like I'm the one who did something wrong. Damn it! What the fuck is taking so long?

Taker suddenly felt somebody's hand on his shoulder. Looking up, he saw what appeared to be a doctor standing in front of him. "You came in with Mr. Hardy?"

"Yes," Taker said, standing up.

The doctor nodded slightly as he took a step back. "You may go in to see him now. Though, I will warn you, he will still be a little groggy. We had to put him on some sedatives to help with the pain."

Taker could feel some of the burden lifting from his shoulders. "So, he's going to be okay?"

"Yes, he will be just fine barring any possible complication and that he gets plenty of rest. He suffered some severe trauma but he should make a full recovery."

Thank god, Taker thought, sighing in relief. "So, I can go see him?"

The doctor nodded silently, motioning for Taker to follow him. They traveled down a few corridors and went up in an elevator before coming to a stop outside a secluded room. There, the doctor paused, looking up at the Deadman curiously.

"I don't normally ask this to anyone but the patient but, do you know what happened to him?"

Taker shook his head. "I found him like that."

"Interesting . . ."

"What's interesting?"

"It's just that, in most cases like this . . ." he paused.

"Cases like what?"

"Rape," the doctor answered finally, his hesitation evident. "In most of the rape cases that I've come across including males, the victim isn't beaten up like this."

"Wait? He was raped?"

"Yes."

Shit, Taker looked into the room where he could barely see the bed that held the Rainbow Haired Warrior. I left for only a couple hours and . . . and this happened to him?

"Did you want a cot set up for you?"

"No," Taker shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "I'll be fine."

The doctor nodded in understanding before taking his leave. Undertaker was unsure about the reception he would receive when he went into the room. Taking a deep breath, he decided that he couldn't leave this damned place before he saw Jeff, even if he was sworn at, spat on or anything else Jeff wished to hurl at him. He needed to make sure that the smaller man was safe before his heart would stop yelling at him. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Taker walked in slowly, trying to keep himself in control while preparing himself for the worse.

Jeff was lying on the clean blue sheets, the top of his head covered in a large bandage, while smaller ones were placed randomly on his exposed flesh. Taker had to swallow past a lump in his throat as he saw the multitude of cuts and bruises that decorated Jeff's flesh.

But at least he's not covered in blood anymore.

Undertaker walked slowly toward the bed, pulling the chair closer so that he could sit nearby. He gently took hold of Jeff's hand, squeezing it lightly. Jeff's eyes opened a crack as he looked over at the Deadman. Taker smiled at the Rainbow Haired Warrior.

"Hi," Jeff said hoarsely.

"Hey."

"I thought I said I didn't want to come here."

"But I . . ."

"Thank you for not listening," Jeff smiled, interrupting Taker's explanation as he squeezed Undertaker's hand lightly back. "I really appreciate it. I don't know where I would be if you weren't looking after me."

….

A/N: Darn, there I went and made everything bad again. I'm just not a nice person. What am I saying? I'm not meant to be nice.