A/N: Well, here it is. Another update. I just couldn't leave Jeffro hanging like that! So, I'll respond to some reviews, and we'll get this show on the road. ;)
To Grandma Napoleon, I know, Matt's not the brightest star in the sky, nor the sharpest tool in the shed; basically, there's one rule that you should never break in the WWE, and that is DO NOT SCREW WITH THE UNDERTAKER! To Esha, I would say he's about 4, 4 and a half feet down by now. Not much longer… ;) I believe in you, thank you for your excellent and well-thought out review. I'm glad you liked that particular part in the chapter; it was one of my favorites too. An intimate moment between the brothers that turned into Matt being a crazy person again was too tempting to pass up. As for your request to keep Matty alive, keep reading… ;) slashdlite, all of your queries will be answered in this very chapter! Thanks for sticking around. :) Crystalgurl101, you don't have to worry about Jeff; he's got balls of steel. He'll be ok. :) Seraphalexiel, I think dog ears would compliment Adam's blonde hair nicely. Don't be giving me ideas with the ninja star thing, because I have a sick and twisted mind, and you never know what'll turn up in my stories. ;) Onions, god dammit, don't you have a court order forbidding you from ever reviewing any of BreakingFable's stories, put forth by the aforementioned BreakingFable? Ah, fuck it. I'll answer your review. Yeah, Matt's a turd. And yes, he DEFINITELY has a pig-pooch. That bastard is the fattest he's ever been, in this story. That's what you get for messing with Jeff… ;)
Thank you to all who reviewed, to all who lurk in the shadows and don't review but who stick around to read this thing anyway, to all who put this on their favorites and their alerts and their iPods and their Wiis and their Kindles. (just kidding about that last part.)
As always, WWE owns all (except Jeff Hardy, who owns himself), I own nothing.
"So, you've decided to take my advice, for once", Jay said, trying desperately to hide the smug undertones in his deceptively benign voice.
Adam shot a dark look in his direction. "Fuck off, Jay", he replied, "I'm not here to listen to your shit!" He dropped his head into his hands, letting out an audible exhalation of air. After a moment, he met Jay's gaze, his eyes wide and pleading. "I couldn't think of anywhere else to go. I don't know if Matt's following me, and I don't want to be by myself."
Jay stared at the man sitting across from him. Once so cocky and arrogant, Adam was now a shadow of the person he'd been. Matt had destroyed Edge, and replaced him with this whining, quivering, weak-willed shell of a man.
Despite everything that had gone down between him and Adam, Jay swore that Hardy would pay for that.
Suddenly Jay spoke, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the close room. "Tell me everything", he said gently, more gently than Adam would have expected from his ex-partner, "I want to know everything that's been going on between you two. What has he been telling you to do?"
Adam grimaced, and averted his gaze.
Jay felt hot anger rising up inside of him when Adam refused to answer, a sudden and destructive thing. He remembered Jeff, that night in the bar, nearly drinking himself to death because he thought his brother's behavior was his own fault. He remembered him, lying beaten and unconscious on the hospital bed.
"Look at me, Adam", Jay said softly. His tone brooked no argument.
Adam slowly raised his head, his tired, bloodshot eyes meeting Jay's intense gaze.
"You're going to tell me everything. You have to. Do you know why?"
Adam slowly shook his head, his eyes still locked with Jay's.
"Because, Matt is going to hurt his little brother. You know what his plans are, where he'll be going, what he intends to do next. That information could be invaluable in stopping another attack on Jeff."
Adam shot to his feet, a furious glare upon his pale face. "Jeff! Jeff?! Jesus Christ, Jay, what about me? Matt's going to do bad things to me if I'm not carrying out his orders to the letter. And… I don't think I can do that anymore. That psycho's gonna…oh jesus christ….!" He pulled at his hair in terror and frustration.
Jay reared back and slapped Adam in the face. "Fucking calm down!", he yelled, "You're hyperventilating, for christ's sake!"
Adam stared straight ahead, a shocked look on his face. "I… I.. have to go", he whispered, moving towards the door.
Jay grabbed Adam and threw him down on the bed with force. "You're not going anywhere, asshole!", he said angrily, "Now, start talking, Adam. If you need to justify spilling the beans, think of it this way; knowing about Matt's plans will help you, as well as Jeff. I can promise you that."
Adam cocked his head, looking at his fellow wrestler strangely. He obviously had no idea what the hell Jay was talking about.
"C'mon, Edge", Jay said, rising and moving towards the door, "We're going to the cops."
* * * * * * *
It had been silent in the warehouse for what seemed like a long time. Matt had left Jeff to sit and wonder when the games would stop, and the real pain would begin. The moment his brother disappeared into the distant shadows of the dimly-lit building, Jeff began to desperately feel at the ropes binding his wrists, tugging as hard as he could, pulling and twisting to the limits of his rapidly-waning strength. The rough fastenings refused to yield in any way, however. After a while, he began to feel blood wetting his abused and chafed skin.
He closed his eyes tightly, praying that when next he opened them, Mark would be standing over the unconscious form of his insane brother. He only had to hold out until Mark could track them down-
He froze when Matt's disembodied voice echoed through the room, seemingly coming from somewhere near the opposite end. "There's no need to try and escape, Jeffy", he said, amusement clear in his tone, "Even if you manage to get out of those ropes, I promise you, you're not getting out of this building."
Jeff began to struggle wildly, tears running down his face. "Fuck you! God dammit, let me go!!"
In the shadows, Matt smiled at the younger man's tantrum. He was coming unglued so easily.
Matt began to make his way towards his distressed brother, moving with steady, audible footsteps. The older Hardy watched the younger with an unfaltering gaze. Jeff's wide, frightened green eyes blindly roamed the shadows as he waited for Matt to appear.
It appeared that he had given up the struggle, for the moment.
Matt smiled. Excellent.
He came to a stop in front of Jeff, causing the bound man to draw back slightly in fear. Matt smirked when he noticed this reaction. Jeff frowned, and drew himself up, though his brother had already turned away from him.
Matt picked up an old folding chair, the only other furnishing in the entire warehouse, and began to slowly drag it across the cold concrete floor. It made a horrible, high-pitched screeching noise, like metal being pulled across a chalkboard. Matt suddenly brought it up short, its painful echoing screech causing Jeff to gasp. The older Hardy turned it around so that its back faced his prisoner. Jeff watched Matt's every move with a wary, frightened gaze. He straddled the chair, and casually rested his chin in his palm. The older Hardy's cold eyes appraised every inch of his brother. Jeff glared back in open disgust.
"Maybe you can explain something for me, Jeffy, because I just don't understand it." Jeff's gaze didn't falter. He narrowed his eyes in confusion. What the hell was he getting at now? "No matter how many times I run this little equation through my brain, it doesn't fucking compute." Jeff shifted in his uncomfortable chair, pulling unconsciously at his bindings.
"Everyone loves you, though I cannot for the life of me understand why. The fans, the guys in the locker room, the assholes in creative, the god damn McMahons, even our own father, they all fucking worship the ground you walk on. Why, Jeffrey? You are a consummate fuck-up. Every time they hand their trust over to you, you destroy it. And yet, you can do no wrong in their eyes. Why, Jeff? What's your secret? Why don't you give me some fucking insight?!"
Jeff stared at his brother, his gaze frigid. "You're pathetic."
Matt let out a guttural cry of pure fury. He jumped up, his teeth bared, his fists balled up tightly. He reared back and struck his brother's face, bringing his fists down over and over again. Jeff tried to move away, but the ropes prevented him. The onslaught was such that he could barely even find the strength to cry out in pain.
Finally, Matt exhausted himself, and collapsed back down onto the folding chair. Jeff, blood dripping freely from his mouth and nose, the skin on his face already beginning to swell, found that he could barely raise his head after the severe beating.
"Please", Jeff panted, his voice hoarse and barely raised above a whisper, "Please, Matt, let me go."
Matt didn't reply. He stared at Jeff with narrowed eyes for a long, silent, uncomfortable moment. Then, he rose and began to walk away, all the while wiping his brother's blood off of his knuckles and onto his once-clean jeans.
* * * * * * *
"God dammit, Jeff", Taker muttered darkly, "you had better not be dead, kid."
The Deadman had been following a line of small, rapidly-drying blood specks. He could only pray they would bring him to Jeff, and his piece of shit brother. God, he owed that asshole so much pain.
Glaring, he forged ahead.
He tried really, really hard not to think about what might be happening to Jeff at this moment.
* * * * * * *
Jeff awoke, in pain, stiff, sore, and, he realized to his dismay, in a different position than he'd fallen asleep. He hung from steel manacles, which in turn were connected to a long chain hanging from the ceiling. He vaguely wondered, as he looked around through the bruised and swollen skin of his nearly-shut eyes, how long it had taken Matt to set all of this up.
"Awake?"
The cold sound of his brother's voice, echoing through the empty room, made him jump. He had no peripheral vision, thanks to the beating Matt had seen fit to dole out, so Jeff had no idea where his brother currently was in the room. It was disconcerting.
"So, you pulled out the chains", Jeff said, forcing his voice to remain steady, "Heavy-duty stuff, Matty. That's moving it up a notch, man. Ropes and chairs, that's one thing. But when you're chaining your brother up in a fucking warehouse, with unknown intentions, well, that sounds like psycho shit to me, Matty." Jeff raised his head a bit, and dropped his voice, as if to make his point entirely clear. "I'm pretty sure you've lost you're fucking mind."
Jeff heard the footsteps come up behind him. It was obviously Matt, but, strangely, the rhythm, slow and dragging, was nothing like the cadence of his brother's normal, energetic walk. It was as if every aspect of Matt had been torn asunder, and replaced with this cruel, vindictive bastard.
Matt stopped several steps behind his bound brother, a wide smile on his harsh features.
"Remember when we were kids, Jeffy?", Matt asked, "And daddy used to yell at us for playing with grampy's old whip? You remember, it was the one grampy used to get rid of the snakes hiding out in tall grass?"
Jeff didn't answer, though he knew what Matt referred to.
Matt laughed at the happy memory. "We used to take turns runnin' around the fields, like we were Indiana Jones, or something."
Jeff wished Matt wouldn't talk about their childhood now. It felt blasphemous, as if he were sullying something that had previously been pure and untainted.
Matt's smile turned dark. He brandished a heavy, braided leather whip, letting the end fall to the floor. It smacked the concrete and rebounded, before laying still at Matt's feet, like a great dead serpent.
Jeff, whose back was still to his brother, flinched at the noise.
"What is that?!", he asked, trying to look over his shoulder.
Matt's smile didn't falter. If anything, it only grew wider.
"Memories, Jeffy", he said softly, bringing the whip up, "I'm making new ones. Now hold still."
The whip came down.
OUCH!!!! God dammit, hurry the hell up, Mark! What, are you following the world's longest blood trail, or are you just stopping for a smoke every five minutes? Boy, Matt's a tool in this, isn't he? But, as you can see, his little web is beginning to unwind around him. We'll see what happens next time!
REVIEW!!!!!!! (please. and thank you.)
Happy Halloween, Everybody! ;)