Wow. People's reactions to chapter 11, which I always thought of as "Batista is being such an accidental raving bitch right now" chapter can actually be interpreted in Batista's favor. I'm glad it can be construed both ways, because I didn't want to make Batista into a cookie-cutter villain, or a villain at all, really. He's just kind of a screwed up guy. I did mean it to be written as a really offensive chapter in Rey's perspective, and here's why…

Chapter 12: The Silent Treatment

Day Five at the Haunted House

Upstairs Rey paced around furiously, swearing to himself in Spanish and then thinking in English and then coming out with rambling, angry Spanglish that hardly made sense, even to him.

He came to a halt at the beginning of the hallway where he'd first met Sylvia and he sat down beneath the lamp on the wall.

He waited for the ghost girl to appear, he called her name softly, he stood and wandered through the house, searching for her and returning to that same spot near the portrait. But he never found her.

"You probably scared her off with all of your swearing and whining," Rey muttered to himself.

He exhaled raggedly and rubbed his eyelids. Of course he was mad that Dave had called him a small, overly emotional coward. But he had been called worse before and not accidentally, as Dave had done it.

He could have worked things out with Batista under any other circumstances and Dave would have apologized willingly enough, too.

But those insults weren't the reason why he'd gone upstairs.

What it was was that he couldn't tolerate Dave's obsession for him in the light of all the chaos surrounding them. He had the patience to bear Dave's overprotective, possessive behaviors, normally. But right now was not a normal time. They were stranded in a haunted house and half their friends had been abducted and they were positive there was a malevolent spirit responsible for all of this.

Rey couldn't believe that Batista was still only thinking about winning his heart and not that their mutual friends could be dead in this very house and that they might not ever find them.

"How selfish can he be?" Rey murmured. "He doesn't care if they're alive, does he? All he cares about is…is just trying to get into my pants or something…"

This infuriated, confused, and saddened Rey. He couldn't understand how Batista wasn't worried about the missing wrestlers.

What he didn't think to consider was that none of the missing wrestlers had ever been very kind to Dave.

Some of them hadn't even been nice to Rey.

But that was where he and Batista differed. Batista was protective of Rey not only because he had a crush on the little guy but because Rey was nice to him. But if someone didn't give Batista a reason to be friendly to them, he wouldn't be. He didn't see any reason to go out of his way worrying about the conditions of Randy Orton and the other guys because he knew they wouldn't have worried about him if he'd been snatched up.

Rey, on the other hand, would worry about the wellbeing of someone who had been blatantly cruel to him. He had too big of a heart not to.

He was stubborn and he wouldn't try to do someone any favors if they'd hurt him or made fun of him. But he couldn't help but feel bad if they were injured or got in trouble with Mr. McMahon. He'd looked sad when he heard that Umaga had been fired and Batista had been shocked by this because the man had nearly broken Rey's arm once.

"Rey-Rey," Batista had said, confronting the luchador after everyone else had left the locker room.

Rey lifted his eyes to Batista calmly. "Yes?"

"Why are you upset about him going?"

Rey shrugged. "He seemed, um…" Rey fished around for a compliment.

"Well, he was a talented heel, don't you think?"

Batista sighed. "He hurt you. Remember that? And he used to shove you all the time in the hallways or in the locker room when I wasn't there with you."

Rey bit his lip. "I know, but-"

Batista set his large hand on the petite Latino's shoulder. "You don't have to feel bad for him. You don't owe him anything."

"I know I don't, but still…"

Batista sighed exasperatedly. "You've got that Catholic guilt thing going on for you."

"I do?" Rey asked him. He guessed he did. "Well, I can't help it. I was raised that way."

Batista hugged him and kissed his forehead lightly. "Let it go, mi amigo. He was a bad egg. You should be saying 'good riddance', not missing the poor bastard."

Rey nodded, but he couldn't seem to let it go.

It wasn't in his nature to easily hate people- even those who mistreated him.

It was in his nature to resent people who mistreated his friends, though. And if Batista hadn't been such a strong silent type and so bent on looking invincible for Rey, he would have told his friend that all of the other guys were cold towards him. They were all jealous of the animal's closeness with the luchador, and so they made Batista into an outcast when Rey wasn't there.

When the luchador was in the room with everyone, they would talk and laugh with him as they would with any friend. But the second Rey left then they glared at Batista and didn't speak to him.

And so Rey felt himself grow sleepy upstairs, sitting beneath the lamp and waiting for the ghost girl that wouldn't come.

He wandered into the bedroom he'd shared with Dave and he stood there for a moment, blinking groggily at Batista's bedding.

He kicked Dave's pillow across the room.

And he glared at it where it lay crumpled against the wall.

"Damn you and your one track mind, Dave. This is no fucking time to be thinking about me. Of all the people to be thinking about in this house you pick one of the few that's alive and safe to worry about."

And he changed into pajamas and lay down, feeling alone.

It was pitch black in the room and every sound that went through the old walls gave him chills. He was too pigheaded to admit that he had much preferred to sleep in this vast, creaky house with Dave near him.

**

In the morning Rey met them on the stairs fully dressed and wearing his gloves again. He'd taken someone's flashlight up with him evidently, because he had one now.

Punk suggested that they eat breakfast first.

Rey tapped his fingers along the banister and then shrugged silently. "Sure" the shrug said. "I'm not hungry, but I'll eat something" it said.

But Rey wasn't talking.

That was very, very unusual.

Rey wasn't even that much of a morning person, it's just that from the minute he was awake to the minute he fell asleep he was talking. He talked about everything to everyone in his soft, handsome voice. He spoke with a good pace, and interested, thoughtful words. He didn't chatter mindlessly or rapidly, but it was a steady stream of speech.

The guys joked with each other that Angie must have been weirded out every time Rey left to travel on WWE tours because she probably didn't know what complete silence sounded like.

Rey took a granola bar and wandered out onto the porch. They'd all been quiet, hoping that Rey would want to fill the void with small talk, but he didn't.

They all sighed disappointedly and talked amongst themselves.

"Hey, the pudding cups that we put into the cooler are gone!" Shawn blurted.

Rey perked up out on the porch, but didn't turn around or come back inside.

"Aw, that's sad, Jeff loved pudding cups…those were his…" Triple H said sadly.

"Randy's vitamin waters are gone, too," Punk reported.

"Really? That's just…this is getting creepy. What else is gone?" Shawn inquired.

"Edge's potato chips and Jericho's donuts and Cena's, uh…" Triple H said, his voice trailing off.

"What? What did he have?" Shawn demanded.

"Grape Drank."
"What now?" Shawn asked.

"What? You don't know what Grape Drank is?" Triple H said disbelievingly. "What are you, like the whitest person of all time? How in God's name have you not heard of Grape Drank?!"

Rey somehow managed to stifle his laughter out on the porch. He had to stub his toe on purpose to keep the sound from escaping his lips. But it was worth it to keep up the silent treatment he was using on Dave Batista.

When his incessant chuckling died down Rey bit his lip and looked out over the fields before him. He looked for a long time and finally he saw a small owl bobbing along the ground on its feet. He watched it, fascinated. He didn't know why on earth an owl wasn't flying; it was like some sort of ground owl. But if it hardly ever flew then why did it bother to still have wings?! Nature confused him.

The owl seemed suddenly startled by movement somewhere in Rey's direction and skittered away into a little burrow that Rey couldn't quite spot the entrance for. He blinked disappointedly and turned away, knowing who had caused the owl to react like that.

Batista plopped his thick-muscled bulk onto the porch to Rey's right.

"What are you looking at?"

No answer.

"Rey?"

Still no answer.

Rey was looking to the left of him now, scanning the ground and trying to will another owl out of it to distract himself with. No such luck. He sighed silently.

"Rey, would it help if I said I was sorry?"

You'd have to mean it first, you motherfucking bitch.

Rey glared out at the horizon.

Goddamn Batista scaring away all the goddamn cute little owls, now he didn't even have those to look at. Batista had already ruined everything else for Rey, now he had to go and ruin owl-watching.

"Rey…" Batista pleaded.

I love you so much and now you're not ever going to speak to me again?! Speak, damn it! Please! I'll do anything! Dave thought desperately.

He reached out his hand and laid it onto Rey's thigh, hoping that that was an intimate enough place that Rey couldn't ignore him and if he was lucky, might even see something sweet about the gesture.

"I don't have anything to say to you," Rey muttered finally, pushing Batista's hand off of him like it was toxic sludge. He turned around again.

In the brief time that Rey's pretty brown eyes were in sight, Batista flushed pale. Rey's soul was in his eyes. And right now they were on fire. Blazing like a forest fire that had gotten too big to control.

Rey stood and walked back inside. He didn't want to make amends just yet. He felt conflicted, and he wanted Dave to hurt just as badly.

THE ONE GROUP

Jeff Hardy and C.M. Punk

Rey and Batista

Chris Jericho, Edge and John Cena

Randy Orton, Triple H and HBK

They spent hours searching every last room of the house again. They went through every bedroom, closet, guest room, bathroom, and storage room. Nothing. No sign of the guys. They searched the hardest in the bedrooms where the missing wrestlers' things were.

Punk suggested that they take all of the stuff and move it into the living room. He suggested that the rest of them bring their things down there too.

Rey nodded firmly in agreement but didn't break his silence.

They all stayed together for every moment and were in Jeff's room packing up together.

It broke Batista's heart to see the look of pain on Rey's face as he carefully picked up Jeff's clothes and folded them, tucking them into Jeff's bag. Rey zipped it up and was rolling up Jeff's sleeping bag when the Hardy brother's teddy bear fell out of it. Rey opened his mouth to say something, but then shut it immediately, when he felt Dave's eyes on him.

Rey took the bear in his hands and just sat for second, feeling its ears.

They all just bit their lips to keep from crying. Triple H patted Rey's shoulder comfortingly and Rey looked up at him with sad eyes and didn't say anything, just took up the rest of Jeff's luggage and started following Shawn back to the living room.

They managed to transport all of the missing guys' things together. Then they went back into the other bedrooms and supervised Punk, Triple H, and Shawn packing up their things.

All that was left to move into the living room was Rey and Batista's luggage. They stood awkwardly there, all knowing what the task in mind was. Batista made the first steps towards the stairs, silently voting to go retrieve the stuff, but everyone else watched Rey for his reaction.

Rey didn't move; just kept his feet firmly planted on the floor. If he went into the room to get his things, then he and Batista would inadvertently bump into one another and have to talk again to ask each other where something was.

Rey kept his mouth in straight line and his face blank. But he voted his disapproval by not budging. And that overruled Batista's vote to go. No one was willing to leave Rey alone, especially since they'd all managed to stick together all day and that seemed to be working as a safe guard. It was an unspoken rule now to leave no man behind.

Rey stood still and was visibly thinking for a moment as he stared at the floor. When he picked his head back up again he seemed to have a destination in mind. He grabbed a flashlight and everyone else followed suit.

Rey walked right past Dave on the stairs without so much as looking at him. And he led the way up to the attic.

"We can only fit two guys up there safely because the space is so small and we don't want to collapse the floor," Punk said.

"So who's going to search the attic?"

They all looked at Punk, Shawn, and Rey, who were the lightest. They knew Rey wanted to look up there, and they were hoping that he'd have to speak in order to say who he wanted to come with him.

Rey raised his hand.

"Okay, Rey's going. Who do you want to come with you, Rey?"

Rey kept his mouth in a thin line and touched HBK's shoulder so that he turned to face the luchador. Rey held out his hand, palm up, and gestured it back and forth from him to Shawn a couple of times. He pointed up towards the attic.

Shawn nodded. "Yeah, I'll come with you, buddy."

Rey nodded and walked silently up the steps, Shawn close on his heels.

"God, he's as good as mute now," Triple H remarked, shaking his head disappointedly.

"I thought for sure he'd have spoken by now."

"It's amazing how much you can say without using words," C.M. Punk said philosophically. "Maybe Rey's taking cues from Sylvia."

Batista swallowed. "He hasn't been this angry with me in months; I don't know what to do for him."

"You need to apologize," Triple H said.

"Shh, I hear something," Punk whispered.

"What?" Triple H asked disbelievingly.

Punk put a finger to his lips.

They were all silent. Sure enough, Shawn Michaels was talking, albeit quietly, up above them. He was trying to coax Rey into conversing back.

"Rey, I've never seen you this ticked off about some stupid comment about your size or your wrestling style. Or your attitude even. I know Dave insulted all three of those things about you, but I thought you'd gotten over remarks like that years ago."

The three wrestlers below all strained to hear an answer.

But Rey didn't respond.

"Rey," Shawn Michaels continued. "Like I said, those insults were all hurtful to you, I get that. Trust me, I do. I'm small, too, remember?"

No answer.

"But there had to be something else that Batista did to make you this upset. What was it, Rey? Did Batista do or say anything else while Triple H and I weren't there to see?"

Rey must have nodded because Shawn sounded encouraged when he next spoke.

"There was something! What was it? What did Batista do to you?"

Punk, and Triple H both sent Batista dirty looks before they strained to hear again.

They frowned as they heard a strange, implacable sound. It was a noise similar to someone undressing, or lifting up a tablecloth.

Batista remembered suddenly that Rey was wearing long sleeves today. He'd worn a t-shirt most days that they'd been here. Maybe he felt cold today.

But he must have been rolling up his sleeve to show Shawn Michaels his bruising.

Batista flushed in mixed fear and shame.

Shawn gasped and they heard his footsteps as he pattered closer to Rey.

"Oh, God, Rey, that's terrible, why didn't you tell me? God, I've been in abusive relationships before, trust me, I can tell you how to deal with these things! Did this happen yesterday?"

Rey must have nodded again.

"Why didn't you tell me, Rey?"

They were all quiet. There was no way to answer that question without using words. They all crossed their fingers that Rey didn't have a pen and paper hidden on his person up there that he could use to escape from speech.

They heard some awkward shuffling.

Rey's voice was very soft; utterly raw and vulnerable when it finally emerged.

"A-abusive? You think he's abusive? He didn't mean to. I don't think he meant to, Shawn."

There was a pause.

Shawn sighed sadly. "Okay, that's…that's do-able. That's easier to handle than if he hurt you on purpose. Actually, it's probably nothing, Rey. Batista just gets too attracted to you sometimes. You know how he is."

"Don't make excuses for him," Rey whispered fiercely. "You're telling me you think this is abusive behavior and then you just want me to ignore it? How the hell am I supposed to do that? I didn't think the bruise was a big deal, but from what you're telling me-"

Shawn shook his head. "I'm not saying this to make you feel like you're not abused. You know him better than me. You can tell when he means to inflict pain and when he doesn't. So be honest with me, Rey. Did he mean to grab your arm that hard?"

Rey was confused now.

"I…I don't know."

"Was he angry with you at the time?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I didn't follow him away from the basement stairs when he asked me to. I didn't mean it to spite him; I just wanted to find Jeff. Shawn, you can't tell anyone this."

"Tell anyone what, Rey?"

"That Jeff's afraid of the dark," Rey whispered.

Batista blinked. Oh, God. He had misconstrued the entire thing. Rey had stayed behind to look for Jeff Hardy at the stairs because Rey was the only one who Jeff had confided in that he was afraid of the dark! It wasn't because Rey was mad at Batista!

Batista wanted to kick himself.

How could he have been so stupid? How could he jump to conclusions like that?!

God, he needed to get back to his therapist so soon that it wasn't even funny.

"Jeff Hardy is afraid of the dark?!" Shawn hissed in disbelief.

"Yes," Rey said. "I just wanted to find Jeff because I knew he'd be twice as scared down there as any of the other guys who were lost. Especially after Punk ran out with the flashlight and left him alone with no lighting down there," Rey explained worriedly.

Shawn sighed. "Oh, Rey…"

"I couldn't help it. I was worried about him. I didn't mean to make Dave mad. I didn't."

"I believe you, Rey. I know. I know you didn't mean to ruffle Batista's feathers."

Rey exhaled softly. "I…I guess it was good that I wasn't alone with him today. That I just avoided him. If he wanted to hurt me like you say-"

"Avoiding him was probably the best thing you could do in this situation," Shawn agreed.

Silence.

"So how does your arm feel? Does it hurt?"

"Only when I touch it. No, it's not that bad," Rey assured him.

"You're not just saying that to downplay Dave's violence, are you?"

"No. No. I've gotten way worse in the ring, before. You know that. This is nothing. It's just a bruise. It's not the marks themselves that scare me; it's that…well, I guess Dave lost his cool with me. He's never done that before."

Shawn sighed. "All right. All right."

A pause.

"Come here, give me a hug, buddy, you look like you need it," Shawn advised.

Rey obeyed and leaned over to squeeze Shawn, who patted his back comfortingly.

"From what you're telling me, I don't think that Dave meant to hurt you too bad, Rey. I really don't think that."

"Okay," Rey said quietly, a little relieved.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Rey said quietly, exhaling.

"All right. Ready to go back to the guys?" Shawn asked him.

"Yeah."

"Okay. Put your game face back on."

Rey sighed and for all intents and purposes swallowed his sweet voice again.

When the two wrestlers descended the attic steps Shawn Michaels was acting like nothing had happened and Rey's face was an unreadable mask once more.

He'd drained all emotion from his expressions. Batista blinked and realized that he shouldn't have mentioned to Rey earlier that he was easy to read. Because now he was making a very good effort not to be.

Nobody said anything to them, even though they wanted to comfort Rey about the bruise.

"Was uh…was anything up there?" Punk asked quickly, recovering surprisingly fast after overhearing that tormented conversation.

Rey shook his head blankly.

"No, not a thing. No signs, nothing, nada, zippo," Shawn confirmed.

Triple H sighed. "Do you want to try to look in the basement?"

They all thought about that for second. The guys had to be down there. There was nowhere else to look.

But it was getting dark again, believe it or not. Between Shawn and Rey talking, the time it had taken to search every room and the attic, the time it took to eat breakfast and lunch, and the time it had taken to move everyone and all of their possessions into the living room downstairs, it was almost nightfall.

"I don't know…maybe we should eat dinner first and then see how we feel."

Shawn's stomach growled loudly and Triple H and Punk laughed at him.

Rey tried to hide an almost imperceptibly small smile, but Dave saw it.