A/N: This story's getting out of control, but in a good way, I think. (Not good for poor Jeffy, though!) Animal Luvr 4 Life, don't worry, justice will be served eventually; I threw the blackmailing Vince thing in as an afterthought, actually, but it was so outlandishly ridiculous that it made me laugh, so I thought I'd try to make it work in a dramatic setting; I guess we'll see if it does! Renna33, Matt truly is a mental case, and he's only gonna get worse, so stick around! Slashdlite, thanks for the review, and keep reading to find out what Vickie's secret was! Seraphalexiel, I'm glad you dig asshole Matt (I smiled when I read that in your review; I think I'll call him that from now on); he is super, SUPER fun to write, even more fun than Jeffro, who I love and adore and eat Skittles in honor of.
Thanks to all who reviewed!
As always, WWE owns all, I own nada.
Jay Reso walked dejectedly towards the small Italian café. He hated Italian food, and the person he was meeting knew it well.
Jay rolled his eyes as he read the chipped and weathered sign above the door. "Luigi's Spaghetti Hut" was emblazoned across a once-white background, with a horribly-rendered drawing of a pasta chef grinning from ear to ear as he brandished an overlarge plate of spaghetti and meatballs.
And there was a perfectly good diner right next door.
Shoulders slumped, Jay entered the restaurant, his nose crinkling in distaste. The rich smell of pasta and baking cheese attacked his nostrils, making his stomach curl in on itself.
He looked around, and immediately located Edge, sitting at a table near the back, a huge plate of spaghetti in front of him.
Frowning, he took an empty seat across from him.
"What did you want, Adam?", he asked, glaring daggers.
Edge grinned at his ex-friend, a small splotch of spaghetti sauce on the side of his mouth. "Hello, Jay. Not in a very good mood today, are we?"
"You'd better start talking, asshole", growled Jay, "Or I'm leaving. And going immediately to McMahon's office."
Adam scoffed. "And you plan on telling McMahon what, exactly? That big bad Edge is forcing you to spy on Jeff Hardy for his evil brother Matt? He'll probably tell you to stop bothering him with nonsense, and then the minute you leave, he'll call the creative team together to start writing it into a new storyline. C'mon, don't be such a retard, Jay!"
Jay stood, and reached across the table, grabbing Adam by the front of his shirt and forcing him up so they were eye to eye.
"Jeff wasn't supposed to get hurt, you slimy piece of shit! He's in the hospital for christ's sake!"
Adam only smiled tightly, his eyes narrowing. "Let go of me", he said. His tone was distinctly threatening. Adam's eyes rolled to the right, settling on the other patrons of the restaurant. "You wouldn't want to dismember me in front of the little children over there, right?" Adam's arrogant smirk made Jay want to hurt him badly, but he was right. There was nothing he could do in here. The blond superstar growled in frustration, and threw Edge down, forcefully. The chair he landed on skidded back a few inches on the tile floor, making a high-pitched sound that closely resembled nails on a chalkboard.
The Rated R Superstar sat up straight, straightening his clothing and fixing his hair in the process. He pulled his seat back into the table. Jay just stood there, glaring at him. Adam motioned for him to sit.
After Jay sat down reluctantly, Edge asked slowly, "So, how is little Jeffy doing, anyway?"
"Why the fuck should you care?", snarled Jay in return.
"Interested parties want to know."
Jay stared. Matt wanted to know, in other words. "No way. I'm not telling that fucking psycho anything that will help him hurt Jeff again."
Edge sighed mournfully. "Fine. Guess I'll have to go to Vickie and inform her of your new status in the company. Hope you like the idea of fighting Kung Fu Naki and Jimmy Wang Yang in dark matches, cause that's the only action you're gonna see. And it's such a shame too, Jay, because you're such a talented wrestler, and all I'm asking for is a tiny status report on Jeff Hardy, which is practically nothing."
Jay felt his gut clench at the not-so-subtle threat. He wasn't ready to be relegated to the back burner, not after all he'd gone through to get to this point in his career.
But he wasn't ready to sell out Jeff to save himself, either.
Something would have to give here, and soon. Because he'd known Edge long enough to know that the only one who'd ever won his manipulative little games was Edge himself.
He would not lose this game. Too much was at stake. But for now, he would cooperate, and make Adam believe that he was beginning to lose his spirit in the face of losing his job.
"Jay", Adam said, his tone impatient, "I don't have all day. Tell me about Jeff, or I head to Vickie's office right after lunch."
"Fine", he said quietly, "But you have to promise me you and Matt will leave him alone to heal. He couldn't handle a visit from you right now."
Adam's lips quirked in a small smile. "He's that bad, eh?"
Shoulders slumped in defeat, Jay said quietly, "Your new best friend beat the living hell out of him. When I got to the hospital, he was unconscious, black and blue and swollen up. His face looked like a truck had hit it."
Adam sneered. "Poor, poor little Jeffy. Such a shame." He shrugged suddenly, grinning widely. "Oh well. He probably asked for it anyway, the whining little bitch."
Jay's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Don't make me fucking deck you in the middle of this restaurant, man, cause I don't feel like traumatizing those children over there, nor do I feel like getting suspended just a few weeks into my re-instatement."
Adam raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Same old Jay. Always ready to fight."
"Fuck you", Jay snapped.
"Please, by all means, continue your report."
"What else is there to say?", Jay asked, confusion written all over his face, "What do you want to know?"
"Has our young friend Jeffro woken up yet?", asked Adam, his mouth full of noodles.
"Yeah, so what?"
Edge swallowed the spaghetti, and went for another forkful. "How is he?"
"In a lot of fucking pain!", replied Jay furiously, "How the hell do you think?! Matt smashed his face into the concrete three or four times! He kicked him in the ribs, and in the stomach! He can barely sit up without help!"
"Poor little Jeffro. Such a shame." Edge shook his head in mock distress, an unpleasant smirk twisting his lips. He shoveled another huge forkful of spaghetti into his open mouth, chewing noisily. Jay made a sound of disgust.
"And how has he been reacting to Matty's little love note?", Adam asked as he chewed, "Has he been reading it, over and over, tears streaming down those pretty, black-and-blue cheeks?"
Jay just stared, unable to hide the confusion in his face. "What 'love note'?", he asked slowly.
Adam's jaws stopped working abruptly, and he sucked a stray noodle into his mouth, swallowing hard.
"You know what I'm talking about, asshole", replied Adam, sounding more and more uncertain with each passing word, "Don't fucking lie to me-"
"I have no idea what you're talking about", Jay answered calmly. He watched as Adam quickly became unglued, as the realization hit that Jay was telling the truth.
Adam's ex-partner smiled for the first time since he'd arrived. "Part of your plan go sour on you there, buddy?"
"Go fuck yourself, Jay!", Adam snarled in return. He seemed to be freaking out a bit.
Jay stood, leaning over so that his face was uncomfortably close to Edge's.
"You seem a little nervous all of a sudden, Adam. Is Matt gonna pound your face in when he finds out that Jeff didn't get any note?"
Adam looked away. "You don't know shit", he mumbled softly.
"What about this fucking note?!", said Jay, perhaps a little too loudly. He heard audible gasps, obviously coming from the table where the family was seated. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw the parents shuffling around, getting their children ready to leave in a hurry. Grimacing in embarrassment, Jay sat down again.
"I suppose you're also gonna tell me that Mark showed up at the hospital", Adam said, his voice suddenly carrying tinges of defeat.
"Yeah, so what?"
Adam began to chew on his fingernails. "Fuck", he said to himself, "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"
"What are you planning to do to Jeff next?" Jay couldn't help himself. It just came out.
Adam looked at Jay. His large eyes were wide, and disconcertingly wild. "You know, I brought you into this, Jay, because I was sure I could trust you. But all you've done, it seems, is work against what I'm trying to do here. All I hear are constant complaints. And who knows if you're even telling me everything I need to know?" Adam's eyes widened as he suddenly had a thought. "And what if you've told Jeff everything about our plans, and now you're actually working for him? How am I supposed to know?" The Rated R Superstar sighed tiredly, running a hand through tangled blonde locks. "Jay, I'm just trying to protect my championship. That's all."
Jay glared. "You protect championships in the ring, Adam, not in the parking garage. I think what you are doing to Jeff is disgusting, and I've never made a secret of that. You'll just have to decide for yourself if you want to trust me."
With that, the blonde superstar rose to leave.
He stopped before he'd walked two steps, however, as he had a sudden thought.
"This note you were talking about", Jay prodded, "What did it say?"
Adam shook his head. "Trust me", he replied, "You don't wanna know."
* * * * * * *
Matt left Jeff's house through the back way. He locked the door with the key Jeff had given him in better times. He rubbed fingertips down the smooth wood of the door, thinking over what he'd done.
The older Hardy allowed a slow smile to creep across his face. When his baby brother came home to his new house, he would find a surprise waiting for him.
A terrible surprise.
* * * * * * *
"C'mon kid, there's no one here."
Jeff pulled the hood of his sweatshirt up around his face, effectively blocking it from view. He didn't want anyone to see him like this. At his friend's assurance that no one was about, the young Hardy emerged from the shadowy corner he'd been hiding in and began walking down the brightly-lit hallway, Mark at his side.
The two of them were making their way towards McMahon's office in the bowels of the arena. Jeff had been discharged from the hospital two days prior, and Mark had finally talked him into speaking with McMahon about the situation face-to-face. The young Hardy was extremely anxious, and upset. He had no idea what he was going to say to Vince. But Mark already knew what would happen. Those bruises would speak for him. Matt had screwed himself when he touched his younger brother.
The two of them reached Vince's temporary office then. The wooden door was propped open, most likely to allow some semblance of air flow into the small underground room. The chairman sat at a nondescript wooden desk, typing on a laptop.
Mark knocked on the doorframe.
Vince looked up after a moment, his eyes settling on the smaller, hunched figure standing at Mark's shoulder.
"Mind if we come in?", asked the Deadman.
The chairman's eyes narrowed as he looked at Mark. "Didn't I suspend your ass?"
"Yup", he replied with a shrug, "But as I told you before, I didn't do what you suspended me for, so I figured it would be alright to accompany Jeff here. He has to talk to you."
"Hardy?", asked Vince, straining to see into the shadows of the hood, "Get in here and sit down if you need to talk. I hate people that hover by my door."
Moving slowly into the office, Jeff took a seat in front of Vince's desk. Mark took the other.
"What's on your mind, Jeff?", asked the chairman.
Sighing, Jeff reached up and pulled back the cowl of his sweatshirt. Vince's breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the young man's face. It was a map of bruises and cuts, ugly black-and-blue marring milky pale skin.
"Jesus Christ", breathed Vince, "What the hell happened to you?"
"My brother happened", said Jeff quietly, looking away. He replaced the hood, throwing his face once more into shadow.
"Your- Matt did this?!", Vince exclaimed, his eyes wide. He couldn't believe it. He'd known both boys for years. They'd practically spent the entirety of their formative years as his employees. Matt had always put his little brother first, going out of his way to protect and care for him, no matter the cost. And now…
Vince had never seen Jeff looking so broken, so defeated.
"Jeff", the chairman said slowly, not quite knowing how to handle this delicate situation, "Did you two get into a fight to cause this? Was there something that happened that might have set him off?"
"No!", Jeff replied earnestly, "This just came out of nowhere! I mean, you saw what happened at the Rumble."
Vince rubbed his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache pounding away behind his eyes. "Yes. But I never, in a million years, would have thought that your brother would lay a hand on you outside of the ring."
He stood. "Take two weeks off, Jeff. You need to rest up, and let yourself heal."
"But Wrestlemania-"
"Will come around again next year. No buts. I mean it. I won't have you wrestling like this. And as for you…" He turned to the Deadman. "As long as you're on leave, maybe you can make sure this doesn't happen again."
Mark stood, and nodded in acquiescence.
Jeff rose as well. He looked at Mr. McMahon with a meaningful gaze. "You're not going to fire Matty, are you?"
Vince sighed. "That depends on him, son."
Jeff nodded miserably, and began to leave. He turned around when he realized Mark wasn't with him. "Mark? You coming?"
"In a minute, kid. I've gotta talk to Vince about my contract. Mind waiting for me in the hallway?"
Jeff's gaze darkened for a split second, before he nodded. He stood outside the open portal, leaning against the cold, white-washed wall, every muscle in his body aching. His eyes narrowed in anger when the door was shut suddenly.
"Contract discussion my ass", he muttered bitterly.
Teeth clenched, he moved silently over to the door, and pressed his ear against it. He could hear their deep, muffled voices barely carrying through the wood. He caught only pieces of the conversation, but those pieces were enough.
"…wanted to show you this."
"What is it?"
"A letter….. Jeff's unconscious body… Matt."
"Show me."
There was a pause, as Vince was obviously reading the letter over. Jeff was angry that he hadn't been privy to this information himself. He wanted to know what that letter said.
"My god."
"…lost his mind."
"I'll speak… soon as possible."
Jeff scrambled away from the door as he heard the voices growing closer. He affected an air of boredom, leaning against the wall and looking down at his watch. The door swung open, and Mark exited the office.
"Ready to go, kid?", he asked.
"Yeah", Jeff replied quietly, shuffling towards the long, bright hallway.
"Heal up, Jeff", said McMahon, "We'll hopefully see you back here in two weeks."
Jeff nodded, and said goodbye.
His mind was swimming with unanswered questions. What letter had Mark been talking about, and why had the chairman reacted so strongly to it?
Jeff glanced over at Mark. He didn't know why the Deadman had kept this from him, but he fully intended to find out.
* * * * * * *
Matt had gotten in from Cameron just about an hour ago. He was tired, and in sore need of a long, hot shower. He knew that he was expected at the arena in a few hours' time, but he couldn't bring himself to move right now.
Suddenly, a loud knock came at the door. His eyes shot open, moving towards the direction of the offending noise.
"What do you want?!", he yelled, not bothering with any niceties.
"It's Adam", came the muffled reply, "Let me in."
Groaning in annoyance, Matt rolled off of the pillow-top mattress and threw the door open.
"What is it?", he hissed, glaring.
"Jesus, you're touchy", said Adam, pushing past into the room.
Matt slammed the door, causing his blonde comrade to jump. "I'm exhausted, and I have to wrestle Mark fucking Henry at that house show tonight, so get to the point so I can get some god damn sleep!"
Adam stared. This was not going to go well.
"Um, well, I just wanted to let you know that I talked to Jay. He'd been over to the hospital to see your brother."
Matt's irritation at being disturbed seemed to have been forgotten the moment this was mentioned. "Go on", he prompted, sitting on the bed.
"He told me some pretty interesting shit. He said the Undertaker was there-"
"Not surprising. What else?"
"Um, he said Jeff was in a lot of pain. That his face was all swollen up and bruised and that he was having trouble sitting up on his own-"
"Again, not surprising. Nice to hear, but not surprising. Is that all you have for me? What about the fucking note I left for him?"
Adam cleared his throat. "Well, that's kind of what's interesting. Jay said that he never saw a note." He tensed, as if bracing himself to take a blow to the face.
Matt's cold brown eyes narrowed. "And you believe him?"
Adam nodded mutely.
"I've never trusted, Jay", Matt's voice was soft and frigid, "I think he would sell us out in a heartbeat. And the fact that you so readily put your trust in him makes me wonder where your loyalties lie, Adam."
"I- I'm with you", stammered Edge.
"You'd better be", said Matt threateningly, "Because you'll get far worse than Jeffy did, should you suddenly decide to bail on me."
Adam shook his head at the ridiculousness of such a thing ever occurring.
Matt lay down and closed his eyes. "Get out."
Without another word, Adam crept out of the room, closing the door with a soft click.
So, his baby brother hadn't gotten his message. He wasn't worried about that. He'd just give him another one.
And then he would watch Jeff fall apart before his eyes.
* * * * * * *
"Mark, I have to talk to you."
The Deadman looked up curiously. "About what, kid?"
Jeff's gaze was firmly averted. "I, um, overheard you when you were in Vince's office. You were talking about a letter, and about Matt and me." Jeff looked up. "I wanna know what you've been keeping from me."
Mark blinked in surprise. He hadn't been expecting that.
"It's nothing worth hearing about Jeff, believe me", he said, eyes intense on his young friend's face.
"Don't fucking lie to me, Mark!", Jeff cried, "It was important enough that you brought it to Vince's attention!"
The Deadman dropped a hand onto Jeff's quaking shoulder. "It's true, Matt left a note for you after he… did what he did in the parking garage. But I don't want you reading it, Jeff. There's no reason you should."
"Do you have it?" Jeff's voice was lifeless, devoid of emotion. It scared Mark, hearing his young friend sound so desolate and hopeless.
"Like I said, Jeff, there's no reason-"
"Do you have it, or not?", Jeff hissed furiously.
Mark nodded staidly. "I do."
"Hand it over, then." The younger man's tone brooked no argument. Mark bristled at being ordered around, but he forced himself to remember who it was he was dealing with. Jeff was simply upset. He could certainly understand that.
"Give me the note, Mark", said Jeff, a warning note lacing his voice.
Mark gazed down at him with sad eyes, and shook his head no.
"Give it to me, god damn you!", Jeff yelled furiously. He punched the solid wall of muscle that was the Undertaker's chest, hitting him blindly again and again. Tears began to obscure his vision, running unchecked down his abused cheeks. "Fuck you, Mark!", sobbed Jeff, "Why won't you let me read Matty's letter? I just wanna see what he wrote to me! I miss him so much…" He trailed off, sounding heartbroken.
Mark grabbed Jeff gently by the shoulders. "Listen to me, kid, alright? The Matty you know had nothing to do with writing that letter. The jealous, conniving, bastard who has, for some reason, taken over your brother's brain wrote it. So there's absolutely no reason you need to read it. Because it'll only cause you pain if you do."
Jeff sniffed and rubbed across his eyes.
"Get rid of it then", he said softly.
Mark smiled crookedly and ruffled Jeff's colorful hair. "That's my boy."
* * * * * * *
Matt whistled as he made his way into the locker room area. He was in a good mood tonight. He ignored the other wrestlers, who immediately began whispering and pointing fingers in his direction the moment he entered the room. Stupid gossipy bitches.
"Hey Matt", called Rey Mysterio suddenly, "You seen The Miz around lately?"
He sounded angry. A tide of angry muttering rose around his boldly-asked question.
Matt turned to face the shorter man. "Hmm… Miz.. Miz… Oh, that jackass with the bad haircut and terrible shorts? Hangs around a bit too much with Johnny Morrison, if you know what I mean? That Miz?"
"You put him in the fucking hospital, man!", said a glaring CM Punk, moving up to stand next to Rey, "What the fuck is your problem?"
Matt's cold eyes appraised the pale, tattooed man. "Wanna join him there? I'm sure they'll have a bed available for you."
Punk moved forward swiftly, his fists clenched, ready to fight.
"Hey Hardy!"
Both men froze, and looked towards the back of the locker room.
Hunter Hearst Helmsly and Shawn Michaels stood, glowering fiercely at the older Hardy sibling.
"You know, Matty, it is a crying fucking shame, what has been going on between you and Jeff", said Shawn, "There's no reason for it."
"Fuck off, Shawn", replied Matt, "You guys don't know shit."
"Ah, but you're wrong there", interjected Hunter, "You see, we know plenty. We know that you attacked Jeffro the other night in the parking garage."
"That was you?" , cried Chavo, who looked horrified.
"Why is he still wrestling tonight?"
"Does Vince know about this?"
Various angry cries, most of which were for Matt's blood, could be heard over the din of excited conversation. Everyone seemed disgusted, and a little afraid, of him. Good, thought Matt, let them be afraid.
"We saw that McMahon was on his way down here to talk to you, and we don't know what it's about. But we just thought we'd mention the fact that we're onto you. And if you try to deny the attack, we will find a way to prove that you did it."
Matt glared poison at Hunter and Shawn. They returned his gaze with their typical, confident smirks.
Suddenly, the door to the locker room swung open, and Mr. McMahon strode in.
When he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically somber.
"Matthew, we need to talk."
* * * * * * *
Too many sub-plots! My brain is exploding! What did Matt do inside poor Jeffy's house? What did Vickie tell Edge about Mr. McMahon? What is Mr. McMahon going to say to Matt? What else does Matt have planned for Jeff? Is Jeff going to lose his mind? Why did I give Chavo a line in this story?
Find out the answers to all these questions (except the Chavo thing) in the next episode of Papercuts!!! Oh, and review, review, review………. ;)