Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera.
I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.
Thanks for the reviews, everyone. Oh, and the bad things? (Points at this chapter) They're right here. There's some violence in this chapter, kind of graphic... oh, and the promise of more the next chapter.
Well, here's part twelve.
Matt could hardly breathe as he prepared for Night of Champions. Punk drove them over and they walked in. The lady came up to them and said, "Mr. Brooks, your locker room is the fifth door on the right. Mr. Hardy, yours in the eighth door."
They walked together and Punk hugged him. "Good luck, Carolina."
"Luck, Punkers." They separated, and Matt walked to his locker room. He opened the door and gulped- Adam was there, changing into his ring tights. "Adam," Matt said.
Adam looked up and nearly fell. "Holy shit, Matt, you scared me." He stood up and said, "So I guess they didn't get our request for transfer yet."
Matt blushed. He didn't expect to see Adam here, and after the horror that was their breakup, he didn't want to see him. He walked in silently and said, "Sorry."
"It's not your fault," Adam said quietly, "I'm just not used to seeing you walk through the door anymore."
Matt was quiet for a while, but then he said, "I don't know what to say."
"Then don't say anything."
They changed in silence, but afterwards, Matt said, "Why are you here tonight?"
"I'm to interfere in the Dolph/Rey match," Adam said.
"Oh." Matt sat down, and Adam sat next to him.
"Do you even miss me a little?" Adam asked. Matt looked up.
"I'd lie if I said no." Matt sighed. "I do care about you, Adam, I swear."
"I know you do. That's why I didn't believe Chris for a second."
Matt looked up. "Chris said something?"
Adam nodded. "He said that you two had sex the night before our break up."
"He did?" Matt's fingers clenched into a fist and he shook a little. He was kind to Chris because of that concussion... and he dared to tell lies about him.
"He did. But don't worry, I know Irvine just wants attention..." Matt stood up. "Where are you going?" Matt didn't answer, but that didn't stop Adam from smiling at the thought of Matt's confusion going away.
Chris was talking backstage with Jake and Evan Bourne when Matt marched in. Chris turned and said, "Hi, Mattie."
"Don't Mattie me," Matt seethed, "You fucking bastard."
"What's wrong?" Chris asked. Matt grabbed Chris and pushed him into a wall. Chris was caught off guard, seeing the anger in Matt's eyes- what happened.
"Why did you tell Adam we slept together?" Matt asked.
Chris breathed in deeply. That was a good question, one he had no answer to- except a bad answer. That he wanted to crush Adam. He could've told Matt about the spear, but he wasn't thinking clearly. All he could see was how angry his loved one was, and that he was the root of that anger.
"WHY?" Matt yelled, "Why? Are you so fucking selfish that you don't care who gets hurt in this stupid little crusade of yours? What, as long as Adam's upset and I'm all single and yours to take, everything's peachy?"
"It's not like that!" Chris yelled.
"Then tell me how it's like, Chris!" Matt screamed back, "Why would you try to ruin MY name by saying that we slept together? Why are you so fucking self centered?"
"Mattie, I mean it, I was being stupid. And I do care about you, I really do," Chris said.
"Then why are you so eager to prove the opposite?" Matt let him go and said, "I fucking hate you, Chris. Leave me alone and get a life!" Matt walked away, and Chris punched the wall. He fucked up again. Time after time, just when he was getting somewhere, he'd fuck up.
Jake went over to Chris and put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
Chris shrugged his hand off. "Leave me alone."
It was a good night for Matt and Punk. Matt became US Champion; Punk retained. Jeff promised to get Punk at Summerslam, and Punk laughed at him.
"Try, Hardy," he said, baiting him. They went to a party and had fun. Everyone on the roster did except a certain blond Canadian. He just brought a bottle of Jack Daniels and went to room 613 to drink away his anguish.
The next night, there was going to be a spectacular party for Hunter's birthday. Everyone was invited.
"So, you're going?" Jay asked Punk as the group met backstage in RAW.
"So I can be a designated driver again?" Punk shuddered, thinking about the rowdy drunks in the back of his car last night. "No thanks."
"I've got to pick up Mark from the hospital," Jeff said, "He had another check-up. Sorry."
"Come on!" Jay said.
"I'm going," Oscar said.
Jay grinned and wrapped an arm around Rey. "Viva la raza!" He turned to Matt. "You?"
"Nah, Carolina's mine for the night," Punk said, wrapping his arm around Matt, "He swore he'd watch Pineapple Express with me."
"I thought you were Straightedge," Oscar said, confused.
"You don't need to be a stoner to see a movie about stoners, Oscar," Punk said, rolling his eyes. They laughed. If there was one thing to love about being in the WWE, it was the family they seemed to be.
Chris went to a bar, unwilling to be sober for another moment. Hearing Matt say that he hated him was enough to drive the usually cocky Canadian to complete misery. He ordered some powerful alcohol and began downing it.
Five drinks in, he got to talking with the bartender, whose name was Bernie. "You know," Chris said, starting his sixth drink, "I try to tell myself Mattie's just being stubborn, but then I think, what if I'm actually pushing my Mattie away? What if I just need to give some breathing room?"
"Whoever this Maddie chick is, get over her," Bernie advised, "If she's just being stubborn and you stop knocking, maybe she'll decide to open the door. And then it'll be too late."
"You can't get over Mattie," Chris said, ordering another drink, "Not once you get the bug in you. Mattie's beautiful laughter'll bounce off the walls and reach you- and my Mattie loves to laugh, and to make people laugh."
"She hot?" Bernie asked.
Chris nodded. "Mattie's fucking gorgeous. Mattie's eyes... so amazingly brown... I could die just staring at Mattie's eyes..."
"Then go get your woman!" Bernie said, "All people- man, woman, both- want to be swept off their feet. No matter how much they deny it, no matter how coy they play, they want to be impressed... seduced. Go after her."
As Chris drank more, the idea of going after Matt grew more and more enticing. He wanted him: his smile, his jokes, his hair, his personality, him entirely. He wanted everything. And he downed drink after drink, thinking about Matt...
Matt saw he had a voice message when he and Punk finally got back to the hotel. "Hey Mattie; it's Jeff. Sorry. But I lost Mark's muscle relaxants. Argh! Please tell me they're in your room. Please. Call me back ASAP. We need to know if we have to buy new ones if Mark's to sleep tonight."
"Hey Punk!" Matt called out. Punk looked up. "Did Jeff leave muscle relaxants here?"
"You mean these?" Punk picked up a bottle with a few blue pills in it.
"Yes!" Matt took them and tried to call his brother, but he got his voicemail. Matt shrugged. "I'll give them back when he comes," Matt said. He put the bottle on top of the dresser as Punk ordered a pizza and Pineapple Express began to play.
Forty five minutes later, Punk got the call that the pizza was downstairs. "Pause it," he said, grabbing his wallet.
"Want me to help?" Matt asked.
"Nah, Carolina... you've got next one, though." Matt smiled and said thanks as Punk went to get the pie and the wings.
Standing outside of room 613, he had no idea what he was about to do. But when he saw Punk leave the hotel room, he followed. When Punk got on the elevator, he took the stairs, ready to beat Punk to the bottom.
As Punk got out of the elevator and began walking to the lobby, his hair was pulled from behind and he was rammed into the wall headfirst. Groggy, he couldn't even scream as his head got banged again and again. It was late, so no one was in that hall- no one except Punk and the man ramming his head into a wall until it busted open.
Punk finally got the thought to fight back, kicking at his attacker, and he let go of Punk's hair. Punk's face was covered in a mask of his own blood, so he couldn't see. And he definitely wasn't prepared for the fist that rammed into his chest. Winded, Punk dropped to his knees, trying to breathe.
His arms were grabbed and he was dragged to the bathroom. Punk wondered where the hotel workers were... if his coworkers would come back from the party yet... and who was dragging him where and why.
Once they were in the bathroom, he banged Punk's head into a toliet seat, sending a pang of pain through his head. Punk's head was pushed into the toliet, and he started flailing, taken over by a fear of drowning. He felt one of his attacker's hands on his pants, and wondered if he was getting mugged. No, the guy only took one thing- the key to Punk's room. And Matt's.
Oh shit! Oh fuck, Carolina... Carolina, I've got to help him...
That was his last conscious thought.
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