Dark Saviour
Chapter 32 - Tight Lipped as You Are.
….
"I don't know where you get your information from, Matt, but you are definitely wrong on this one," Jeff shook his head as he closed his eyes and muted the monitor.
"I'm not wrong," Matt insisted, looking up at his brother, his eyes full of sincerity.
Jeff shook his head again. "You shouldn't be listening to these rumors," he sighed for the umpteenth time as he plopped down into a vacant chair.
"I can't just ignore this," Matt argued as he stretched out on the bench. He couldn't wait to get out of the arena and start his weekend off. He could almost taste his dad's home cooked food already.
Nothing could beat that, Matt thought.
"Why can't you just ignore the stupid rumors?" Jeff asked.
Except maybe bugging him, Matt smiled. "Because it comes from a reliable source."
"And who the hell would be telling you that?"
"I can't reveal my sources," Matt answered, shaking his head. "You know that what people tell me in confidence is confidential."
"But you're my brother," Jeff retorted, giving his brother the puppy dog eyes. "It's your job to tell me these things."
"No," Matt shook his head again, as he shifted his position slightly so he was lying on his stomach and prop himself up on his arms. "My job is to pick on you night and day in an ever relentless cycle."
"You're supposed to protect me."
"In secret," Matt replied. "So that you don't become dependent on me. Either way, I can't tell you."
Jeff pouted. "That's not fair."
"Life ain't fair, my brother," Matt rolled his eyes.
"It should be."
"Suck it up, princess," Matt laughed.
Jeff stuck out his tongue before laughing with his brother. As Matt wiped away a stray tear, he didn't see the hint of evil in his brother's eyes. Jeff cleared his throat before saying. "Oh, and by the way, Matt. I thought you should know. I don't suck," he smirked. "I blow."
Matt shuttered involuntarily at the image that produced. "More than I needed to know."
"Aw," Jeff pouted innocently. "Doesn't my older brother want to hear about his little brother's sex life?"
Matt shook his head. "You can keep those stories to yourself."
"But the whole WWE thinks I'm a man whore," Jeff retorted. "Don't you want to know if it's true or not?"
"I know it's not true," Matt answered quickly.
"How can you know for sure unless I tell you all about what I do?" Jeff stopped. "Or who I do?"
Matt rolled his eyes, trying to suppress another shudder. "We need to get you a girlfriend."
"But wouldn't that mean that I'm cheating on the boyfriend I'm supposed to have?"
"I mean a girl who is your friend so you can gossip and swap bizarre stories with," Matt sighed. "One that isn't me. That way I don't have to hear your stories."
"But you're not a girl," Jeff replied thoughtfully. "Are you?"
"Oh my god," Matt cringed. "He's turning into Shawn."
"No, wait!" Jeff shouted, startling Matt so much that he fell off the bench. "Oops. Sorry, Matt," he whispered.
"Why did you shout?" Matt grunted as he slowly sat up.
"I know why you are supposed to protect me and why you would want to know about who I'm sleeping with," Jeff smiled, the evil glint back in his eyes.
Matt rolled his eyes as he rubbed the side of his head. Though he dreaded the answer, he asked, "And why would I want to do that?"
"As you said once, long ago, it's as if I am your little sister," Jeff chuckled. "And you're supposed to protect your little sister."
Matt tried to suppress his own laughter, but failed. "True enough," he said after he had regained some control. "But I do prefer to have you as my little brother instead."
"Aw, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Jeff smiled, batting his eyes playfully.
Matt looked around for something to throw at his brother, but when he could find nothing, he decided to just stick out his tongue and pout.
"I'm sorry," Jeff pouted in return. "Did I make you upset?"
"No," Matt huffed. "I'm not mad."
Before Jeff could reply, they were interrupted by the door squeaking open as Rey walked into the locker room slowly. Both men could tell instantly that something was wrong by the distant look in the smaller man's eyes. Jeff vacated the chair he occupied as Matt quickly got off the bench so that he could lead Rey to the now empty chair. Rey nodded and smiled weakly in gratitude before resuming his vacant expression.
"What's wrong, Rey?" Jeff asked, kneeling down in front of the smaller man.
Rey looked up at Jeff as though he didn't really see him. He blinked once, then twice but didn't respond. Matt looked over at his brother, his concern evident.
"Is something wrong with Shawn?" Matt asked as he sat on the arm of the chair, putting a hand on Rey's shoulder. As his hand made contact, both he and Jeff could see the smaller man jump.
Rey blinked rapidly, brining the two Superstars into focus. "What?"
"Did something happen to Shawn during his match with Dave?" Jeff asked, his eyes darting between Matt and Rey's. "Is he okay?"
Rey nodded. "Shawn's fine. Why do you ask?"
Matt's brow furrowed in confusion and concern. "You came in here in a daze," he answered.
"We thought something bad had happened to Shawn," Jeff continued, his face mirroring his brother's expression.
Rey looked between the two brothers, his own confusion showing. "You don't know?"
Jeff looked over at Matt before meeting Rey's gaze again. "Know what?"
Rey shook his head, not quite believing that they didn't know what had just happened. "You don't know?" he repeated.
"Don't know what, Rey?" Matt asked calmly.
"The monitor in here was working when I left," Rey said, glancing over at the monitor, which showed the work crew cleaning up the ring. "You should know."
Matt shook his head. "Rey, we obviously don't know what you're talking about."
Jeff looked between Rey and the monitor, his brow furrowed even more. "Did . . . did something happen to Mark during his match?" he asked softly.
Rey looked over at Jeff, his eyes misting over again as his throat tightened.
Jeff's own throat began to tighten when Rey didn't reply. "Is he okay, Rey? Did he get hurt? Did Adam do something to him?"
Rey shook his head, trying hard to clear his throat. "I don't know," he whispered hoarsely.
"What do you mean you don't know?" Jeff asked, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to keep his fear from taking over. "What happened to him?"
"Calm down, Jeff. Let Rey breath for a moment," Matt said calmly as he looked at his brother with concern. He swore if the man didn't calm down soon, he would go into a full-blown panic attack.
If there is nothing going on between those two then I must be blind and dumb . . .
Jeff sat back on his heels, letting out a calming breath, forcing himself to not harass Rey for information. But how can I stay calm when something's happened to Mark? I mean, if Rey is acting like this, then it must be serious, right? Could Adam have been working for Cena too? Did John make good on his threat to hurt Mark if I didn't listen to him through Adam tonight?
"What happened during Mark's match, Rey?" Matt asked, breaking through Jeff's train of thought. "Did he get injured?"
Rey shook his head as he closed his eye. "He's not injured," he replied softly. "Not physically anyway."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jeff asked, nearly snapping at the smaller man in his frustration.
"You didn't watch his match tonight?" Rey replied, looking down at his hands.
Jeff shook his head. "I turned the sound off. I was talking to Matt . . ."
Rey looked up at Jeff, shaking his head as he searched for the words. "You were right when you said that something was off tonight."
"What?" both Matt and Jeff asked in confusion.
"Mark wasn't in the right frame of mind tonight," Rey answered, looking between the two brothers. "If you hadn't turned the sound off, you would know what happened during his match."
"What happened Rey?" Matt asked calmly.
Rey looked at Jeff, not seeming to hear Matt's question. "Or more to the point, what happened at the end of his match."
"What are you saying, Rey?" Jeff felt his heart clench as he asked the question. He feared the answer Rey would give him, yet hoped it would merely be that Undertaker had been ambushed or something and the match had been declared a no contest.
"He's gone, Jeff."
Jeff felt as if a tanker truck had hit him. He lost his balance and fell on his rear, his hands barely making it out in time to stop him from falling completely backward. "He's . . . gone?"
"What do you mean he's gone, Rey? Like, he's on vacation, gone?" Matt asked as he stared at the stunned expression on his brother's face.
Rey shook his head, the shock of everything finally wearing down to a dull throb. "He's gone."
"But he'll be back, right?" Jeff pleaded, his eyes darting between Rey and Matt, praying for one of them to give him the answer he sought. Rey's not saying he's gone, gone, is he?
It was Rey that gave him the answer. "He can't come back," he said softly, shaking his head. "He's been banished from the company."
"Why? He was supposed to win. What changed?" Jeff stammered, though slightly relieved that Undertaker was only gone from the company and not dead.
Rey shook his head again. "He had the match changed."
"Who did?" Matt asked as he moved from Rey to sit by his brother.
"Mark did."
"Why would he change his match?" Jeff whispered, his mind going numb.
Rey shrugged. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me when I asked."
"You saw him after his match?" Matt looked at Rey, his brow furrowed in confusion. "I thought you went to go see Shawn?"
"I did," Rey nodded. "I was, but as I was heading there, I over heard some of the other guys talking about the match being changed. I figured it was just a rumor since the monitors were still down and they needed something to entertain them in their boredom. Then, just before I could enter the medical center, I heard a crash from ringside, so I stopped and waited. That's when I heard Adam's music . . ."
"What did Mark say to you when you saw him?" Jeff asked, looking up at Rey.
Rey shook his head. "That he changed the match and that I should say goodbye to you and Shawn for him," he shrugged. "Then he left."
"He left without getting his stuff?" Matt said in confusion, not quite understanding what he was hearing.
Rey nodded. "I guess so."
"Well, his stuff is still in the locker over there," Matt nodded in the direction of a locker in the fair corner. "I haven't seen him since he left the locker room after Jeff's match."
"And I haven't seen him since I ran into him before his," Jeff replied softly, his eye's downcast. "Why would he change his match?"
"You're asking the wrong guy, Jeff," Rey sighed. "Only Mark knows the answer to that question."
"So, let's ask him," Matt stated simply.
"What?" Jeff and Rey asked in unison.
"Let's go back to the hotel and ask him. He couldn't have left there yet."
"He's right," Rey nodded. "What do you think, Jeff?"
Jeff nodded quickly. "I can't let him leave without telling me why first."
"Then we all agree," Matt smiled, getting up quickly so that he could help his brother to his feet.
"Let's go," Rey smiled as he reached for the door handle. Just as his hand was about to grasp the handle, none other than the Heart-Break Kid, Shawn Michaels, opened the door.
"Where is everyone off to in such a rush?" Shawn asked, his eyebrows rose expectantly. "You're not all leaving me here by myself, are you?"
"I'm sorry, love," Rey apologized, kissing Shawn on the lips. "We're off to go confront Mark."
"Oh? How come?"
"I need to know why he changed his match," Jeff explained. I need to know why he's leaving me.
"Sounds like fun," Shawn smiled. "Can I join?"
"The more the better," Rey replied.
"If that's the case, then I should call Glen and get him to bring Fred and Bob," Shawn beamed.
Rey shook his head, but couldn't shake the smile off his face. Jeff, on the other hand, was in a hurry. "Can we go already?" he asked.
"Right, time is of the essence." Rey nodded, regaining his focus. "Let's go."
With that, the four of them ran to the parking lot and jumped into the rental car. Since Matt and Jeff used a taxi to get to the arena, they jumped into the same car as Rey and Shawn, with Shawn in the driver's seat. Shawn quickly turned the car around and sped off down the highway. Unable to sit still, Jeff twiddled his fingers and fiddled with his necklace before Matt passed him his cell phone.
"Call him," Matt said, prodding Jeff with the phone.
"Call who?" Jeff asked.
"Mark," Matt replied. "Make sure he's still at the hotel and doesn't leave."
"Oh, right," Jeff nodded, taking the phone. Once he had the phone, however, his fingers hovered over the numbers. "I don't know his room number."
"You know his cell number right?" Matt said, raising a brow at his brother.
"Yeah."
"Then call that."
"But . . ."
"But nothing," Matt interrupted. "You are going to call him. You are going to tell him how you feel or by George I'm going to tell him myself," he hissed.
"Who's George?" Shawn asked from the driver's seat.
"Never mind," Matt replied, never taking his eyes off his brother. "Now call him before it's too late."
Jeff nodded, silently thanking his brother as he quickly dialed Taker's cell number. Like his brother's, he had burned that number into his memory . . . and his heart. With bated breath, Jeff listened as the phone rang once, twice, three times . . .
"Hello?"
Jeff closed his eyes as he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had been afraid that he would never hear that voice again.
"Is anybody there?"
"It's me, Mark," Jeff replied hoarsely, opening his eyes to look out the car window and the passing scenery.
"Hi, Jeff," Taker replied. Jeff could have sworn that the older man had hesitated and taken a deep breath before responding.
"Where are you?"
"At the hotel. Where else would I be?"
Jeff closed his eyes again as he bit back an angry response. "I didn't know if you had left or not."
"Why would I have left yet?"
"Don't play games with me, Mark," Jeff sighed, blinking back angry tears. He was glad that he had turned away from his brother. He didn't need Matt to see how much this situation affected him.
"I'm not playing games."
"I know that you lost your match tonight," Jeff replied, wishing he could see the expression on the Deadman's face. "I know that you're out of the WWE."
"Things . . . change . . ."
"I know things change," Jeff said, a lump growing in his throat. "I want to know why."
"I can't tell you that."
"Why not?"
"Because it's not for me to tell."
"Bull shit," Jeff snapped, his voice raising. He could feel everyone's eyes turn on him, with the exception of Shawn's since he was driving. He quickly shook off Matt's comforting hand and lowered his voice once more. "Talk to me, Mark. What the hell is going on?"
"Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
Jeff felt the need to strangle the bigger man. If only he was standing in front of him. "Mark, don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying to you," Undertaker replied, his tone soft, but Jeff could almost hear the hurt the Phenom was trying so hard to hide.
"Then what are you hiding from me?" Jeff asked, pleading with the bigger man to explain things to him.
"I don't know what I could be hiding from you, considering all the lies I've told have been for you. To hide whatever you're hiding from me," Undertaker said bitterly, not bothering to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
"Not this again, Mark," Jeff sighed. "I thought I asked you to leave this alone and stay out of it?"
"Apparently I can't stay out of it," Undertaker answered, his voice taking on a slight chill to it, causing a shiver to run down Jeff's spine. "So I'm doing as you suggested."
"What did I suggest?"
"That I stay out of it," Taker explained. "So I'm staying out of it the only way I know how to."
"By getting yourself kicked out of the WWE?" Jeff asked in disbelief.
"Not necessarily."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I have my own reasons for doing what I did, just as you had your own reasons for doing what you did. I can handle it. Now stay out of it."
Jeff let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes and let his head rest against the glass. "Please don't go."
"I have to go. They want me gone now," Taker replied calmly.
Jeff looked up at the sky as he tried to blink back the tears that threatened to fall. "Can you . . . can you just wait until I get there?" he asked, trying to work past the lump in his throat.
"I can't . . ."
"Please, Mark? I have your bag. You left it at the arena," Jeff said, trying to say anything, do anything, to get the Deadman to stay a little longer. "Let me get it to you."
"Jeff . . ."
"Please, Mark? We're pulling into the hotel parking lot now. I'll just run to your room, drop it off and leave you be. You don't have to explain anything, just . . . let me say goodbye," Jeff pleaded as the first tear fell.
"Jeff, I . . ."
"I'll be right up, Mark. Just wait one second," Jeff said as he snapped the phone shut, tossed it at Matt and grabbed the duffel bag before making his way toward the hotel. Jeff wasn't paying attention to anything around him and jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning, he saw Matt panting beside him. "What?"
"Don't forget," Matt wheezed.
"Forget what?"
"Don't forget to tell him how you feel," Matt answered, staring at the younger man intently. "Don't let him leave until he knows."
"I'm sure he knows that he's hurt me by leaving like this," Jeff replied, turning to continue to the hotel.
"That's not what I mean," Matt retorted, taking hold of Jeff's wrist.
"What do you mean then?" Jeff asked, not turning to look at his brother.
"Don't be afraid of rejection," Matt said, letting go of his brother. "It's better to know how he feels then to spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been."
"I don't know . . ."
"Bull," Matt snapped. "Now go to him already before he leaves and you never see him again."
Jeff nodded and quickly ran into the hotel. Upon seeing the lineup for the elevators he grabbed the stairs, taking them two at a time. Once he reached the fourth floor, his side was aching and his breath was coming in painful gasps. However, in fear of missing the Deadman, Jeff didn't stop for rest, he continued to run until he stopped in front of the room Undertaker had taken. Taking a deep breath, Jeff knocked briskly on the door and waited for a response. When he got none, he tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He gingerly opened the door, quickly taking in the tidy room and noting that there were no bags in sight.
"Why are you here?"
Jeff turned to see Edge coming out of another room, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken. "Where's Mark?"
Edge shrugged as he moved toward the fridge and grabbed a beer. He tilted the bottle toward Jeff in a silent offering to which Jeff declined. Edge shrugged again as he opened the bottle. "My guess is that he's half way to the airport by now, on his was home."
"What?" Jeff asked, slightly surprised he hadn't staggered under the impact Edge's words had on him.
"He left a few minutes ago, talking on his phone," Edge replied, taking a swig of beer before continuing, "He just waved, no, more like saluted, and left."
"He didn't wait?"
"Wait for what?" Edge asked in confusion.
"I asked him to wait for me."
"Oh," Edge said, grimacing slightly. "Yeah, I guess he didn't wait. At least not here anyway. Did you check the bar?"
Jeff merely shook his head.
"He might be there," Edge suggested.
"No," Jeff replied, his eye's downcast. "I was the one talking to him on the phone. He was trying to tell me that he had already left, or was already leaving, and I didn't listen."
"Ouch."
Jeff shook his head. "Sorry for bothering you, Adam," he muttered before he turned and headed out the door. He slowly made his way down the hall to his room where he unlocked the door and walked into the silence. Once he closed and locked the door behind him, Jeff leaned against it, closing his eyes and biting his lip to keep himself from screaming in frustration and pain.
Too late . . . I was too late. I couldn't bring him his bag. I couldn't get him to tell me why he's leaving. I couldn't tell him how I feel. Now I'll never get the chance. It's not like he's even just suspended for two months like I was. He's gone forever. What am I going to do without him?
….
A/N: Now what's going to happen to my poor Jeff with Undertaker gone?