A/N: Jeff's in major trouble, folks. Matt decided to pull out the whip. (sigh) Sometimes, Asshole Matt can be a real dickhead. :)
As always, thank you to all who reviewed! To Grandma Napoleon: Adam's starting to come around, but keep reading to see what he'll decide. He could chicken out and run away, Edge-style! :) Esha, don't worry about Taker, the longer he wanders around searching the more pissed he's getting. Matt is toast when he finally catches up to them! Renna33, I know, I'm evil, and I'm sorry for it. Taker'll be there soon to save the day, I promise. I just had to write in a scene or two of good, ol' fashion Jeff torture. I couldn't help myself. :P slashdlite, there's going to be one hell of a confrontation between Taker and Matt, and it's coming really soon. What'll happen??? Read on! :) Seraphalexiel, whose reviews I adore, yeah, Adam doesn't know what the hell he's doing right now, or what side he's on. Jay'll fix him up, don't you worry about that. For Matt v. Taker, ya gotta read on… Crystalgurl101, sorry about the Jeffy torture and the suspense. Read on to find out what happens! Yvanna Irie, your review made my whole damn month. I'm totally serious. I'm unworthy of your kind words. :) Welcome to the WWE fandom! I'm sure it'll treat you well. ;) (I overuse emoticons, I know.)
As always, the WWE has province over all (except Jeff Hardy, who is currently no longer wrestling for them, as we all sadly know). I own not a thing.
The Undertaker lurked in the oppressive shadow of a very large warehouse, watching, waiting. He glared intently at the darkened structure, his eyes narrowed in tension and anger. The building was silent, as any abandoned building should be, and if there was anyone in there, he certainly couldn't tell from where he was standing.
He sighed heavily. The spotty blood trail he'd been following seemed to come to an end here, on the edge of this property. When it came down to it, however, he had no idea in the world if this was actually the right place. The rational side of him kept screaming that he was fucking insane not to have gone to the cops by now.
Taker's fists curled into tight little balls as he fought with himself, knowing that he couldn't go to the police just yet. He knew that he and Matt Hardy had unfinished business, as cliché as it sounded. He intended to do very, very bad things to Matt when he got his hands on him. He had to instill the fear of god into him, make him realize that coming after Jeff again would be an extremely bad decision on his part.
Solidifying his resolve, Mark quickly and quietly began to make his way towards the rusty, chain link fence that surrounded the property. He turned off his flashlight and stashed it in his jacket pocket, deciding to go by the light of the moon. He didn't want to alert Matt to his presence, just in case he was watching. The decaying metal of the fence shook in the strong winds coming off of the nearby harbor.
As Taker silently made his way towards the rust-covered barrier, he began to realize that this warehouse would have been the perfect spot for Hardy to lay low. Had Matt been forcing Jeff along, or carrying him if he was unconscious, he'd have been tiring by now. He'd have been searching for a place to hide. Coming across a deserted warehouse would've seemed like a gift from God.
A ship whistle, muffled and very distant, cut the night air suddenly. Mark pulled his jacket closed, zipping it up tight in an effort to fight off the chill wind that had sprung up around the docks and outlying harbor.
He easily scaled the filthy fence, making far more noise than he would have liked. Quickly, cautiously, he began to make his way across the courtyard and towards the giant, dark, and seemingly empty building.
"Hang on, kid. I'm coming", he whispered.
* * * * * * *
Matt sat cross-legged on the floor, half-heartedly stroking the length of his whip. His attention was fixed squarely on Jeff, who had, at some point, passed out. His younger brother hung limply from his wrists, and he was swinging slightly back and forth like a leaf in the wind. His expressive brows were furrowed, distress showing clearly on his face despite the fact that he was still unconscious.
Matt continued to caress the whip, enjoying its smooth texture. His fingers ran across something wet and sticky. He tightened his grip, never removing his eyes from his brother's form.
Jeff had tried to fight him, even when it was obvious that he'd lost. All he had wanted was a scream. Just one. It wasn't so much to ask for, in Matt's opinion.
But Jeff just had to antagonize him. He'd had to act like the irritating little shit he'd always been. Instead of obliging Matt's simple request, Jeff had nearly bitten his tongue off in an effort to stifle his cries of pain. Matt scowled. Jeff had always been so worthless. Such a stubborn little shit.
The older Hardy smiled suddenly, stroking the blood-covered whip, his cold eyes locked on his sleeping brother. It didn't matter. Nothing that Jeff did mattered at all anymore. He'd already won.
It had taken patience, but in the end, he had screamed, over and over again, begging him to stop. Whatever that little fuck did to fight him, he would always fail in the end. And finally, perhaps, they would all see him for the worthless piece of trash that he actually was.
Jeff suddenly let out a smallish whimper, followed by a groan of pain. His hands curled into fists, and he twisted slightly in the chains. His eyes, partly swollen shut from the beating he'd sustained earlier in the evening, slid open slowly.
Matt watched all of this patiently, as still and noiseless as a venomous snake right before it strikes.
Jeff let out a pitiful whimper as full consciousness came flooding back. His body felt like one huge, gaping wound, throbbing and pulsing with constant agony. "Oh…… god…….", he groaned lowly, unable to stop himself.
Matt smiled, unable to help himself.
"Did I hit you a little too hard, Jeffro?", the older Hardy asked, "Sorry about that. You know me, though; I have a tendency to get a little carried away with things sometimes."
"Fuck you", Jeff spat, fat tears running down his bruised and swollen cheeks.
Matt's smile never left his face. It was gentle and bemused, the smile of an older brother gazing with approbation at his younger sibling.
Jeff looked away, disturbed by Matt's benevolent façade.
Matt reached into his pocket and began to fish around for something. "I've really enjoyed our little game, Jeff. But I think we both know it's played itself out, at this point." The older Hardy pulled a small key out of his pocket. He regarded it thoughtfully. "I suppose I've accomplished what I set out to accomplish. For the moment, anyway." Matt's eyes never left the object in his grip. As he spoke, he began to roll it absentmindedly between his thumb and forefinger. "I guess I could let you go. After all, killing you is out of the question. I won't risk going to jail for murdering a worthless junkie piece of trash."
Jeff felt his anger rise like a cancer in his body, choking him, blacking out his reason. "I hate you", he hissed, every word torn from his gut.
Matt smiled that conciliatory smile once again. It was maddening. "Then we're finally in agreement about something, Jeffro."
* * * * * * *
The Undertaker moved as quietly as he could, all the while feeling like an incredible lummox and the least graceful person on the planet. He knew he was huffing and panting loudly, but he couldn't help himself. He'd climbed twenty flights of stairs, stopping on each floor to look for Jeff. Nothing yet. His bad knee was beginning to twinge something awful, so he was practically dragging his bad leg along, forcing it to cooperate. At this point, he figured, if Matt didn't hear him coming, he was deaf.
"Fuck it", he muttered, "Direct approach is always better than sneaking in anyway."
He was coming up on the top floor. If Matt and Jeff weren't here, they weren't in the building.
Taker stopped at the door, putting an ear to it to see if he could hear anything. Silence. The big man's heart went into his throat. Pushing his anxieties firmly away, the Deadman entered the cold and lightless room.
"Hardy!", he cried, "Where the fuck are you, you piece of shit?!"
He pulled out his flashlight, letting the beam break the enveloping darkness. He ran it across the room once, twice, three times.
His heart sank. The room was empty.
This was the wrong place. Jeff had never been here at all.
* * * * * * *
Matt walked around behind Jeff, causing the younger man to tense uncomfortably.
"I'm letting you go." The cold voice suddenly sounded in Jeff's ear, causing the younger man to jump.
The younger Hardy said nothing as he felt his brother began to fiddle with one of the manacles, though he couldn't help but feel relieved. Perhaps he would live through this, after all.
As Matt began working on the second cuff, he said, "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm doing this." Jeff said nothing, only kept his glare locked firmly on the concrete floor of the warehouse. Matt leaned in, his dark eyes blazing. "I can't enjoy breaking you if you're already broken, can I? You've had enough for tonight. It's a shame, too. I was just getting started." He grinned. Jeff's eyes narrowed. "I'll let you heal up, though." Matt suddenly grabbed a hold of his brother's hair, yanking it painfully, pulling his head up so that he'd be forced to look him in the eye. "All the while you'll know full well that I am the sole reason that you are free. And", he smiled, "you'll know that I could come back at any time to finish the job."
"You are a bastard."
Matt just smirked, pulling the second manacle off of his brother's wrist. The moment he was free, Jeff tried to attack, swinging wildly at Matt's face. The older Hardy easily blocked every blow, however, as Jeff was very badly beaten, and could barely stand on his own, let alone throw a punch.
Matt kicked Jeff in the stomach suddenly, bringing the Enigma to his knees, coughing and choking. Matt regarded his brother with anger, and a fair amount of disgust. The younger Hardy was doubled over in pain, holding his abdomen protectively, trying desperately to take in precious air. This pathetic creature crawling on the floor was their golden child, their chosen one. It was disgusting.
"Get up", Matt said in a low, dangerous voice.
Jeff looked up at him, his eyes wide with fear. After a long, tense moment, he began to slowly get to his feet. He stood shakily, watching his brother with wary eyes, his hands crossed over his bruised stomach.
Without a word, Matt swept forward and grabbed a hold of his brother's slender throat. He pushed him backwards several feet, stumbling and nearly falling a number of times, until his back finally hit the cold, hard wall of the warehouse. Jeff struggled as best he could, his nails digging into Matt's large, muscled hands, trying desperately to pry them off of his airway.
Jeff's struggles increased when he tried to take a breath, and found himself completely unable to do so.
Matt's eyes were cold, and utterly emotionless as he watched his brother slowly choking to death at his own hands. He had lost everything because of the man before him. The thought still enraged Matt, still made him want to destroy Jeff utterly.
Jeff was beginning to black out. He mouthed the words "Please, Matty!" as his hands fell limply to his sides. The younger Hardy felt himself slipping away with each passing moment. Weak and broken, he faded like a plant deprived of sun and water, unable even to muster the strength to be angry that he was dying at his own brother's hands.
Matt suddenly blinked several times, as if waking from a deep trance. He looked down. Jeff was nearly unconscious in his hold. He immediately released his grip, causing the younger man to fall like a heavy sack to the ground. After a moment, Jeff rolled over and grabbed at his throat, coughing.
Matt watched him with dark eyes, unmoving.
After a moment, Jeff sat up, leaning heavily against the wall. He looked like a worn dishrag, dirty, wrung-out, and used up.
"Get out of here", Matt said coldly.
Jeff had not been expecting to hear that. His head snapped up, tired green eyes suddenly alert. "You're really just gonna let me walk out of here?" He stared at Matt, naked suspicion evident in his eyes.
"I suggest you do it, Jeff", Matt replied, "The next time my hands end up on your throat, I may not be able to stop myself."
Jeff rose without a word, and, avoiding Matt, walked towards the exit of the cavernous warehouse. He could feel his brother's eyes on him as he limped through the door, and out into the cool night.
As quickly as he could, he moved through back alleyways of the city, trying desperately to quell the impulse to turn around and see if Matt was following him.
He needed to get out of here.
He needed to find a safe place.
* * * * * * *
Lieutenant Davies, a portly, middle-aged police officer working out of the 49th precinct, sat behind his paper-cluttered desk with a pen and notepad in hand. He'd given up on taking notes on this case a half hour ago, however. He stared incredulously at the two men sitting across from him. They were looking at him expectantly.
"So what you're trying to tell me is that Matt Hardy, a wrestler you work with, has gone insane, and is trying to kill his younger brother Jeff Hardy, another wrestler you work with. Also, he has tried to blackmail Vince McMahon, the president of the WWE. You're here-", Davies pointed at the blonde man sitting on his right, "because he, Matt Hardy that is, enlisted you to help him with this little scheme of his, and now that you realize it's gone sour, you want out. Do I have all that about right?"
Adam pulled at his hair. "Well, everything but the 'enlisting' part. You have to understand, buddy, this all started out as a way for me to get my championship belt back. That's all. No attacking Jeff, or hurting Jeff. Just simple mind games. Harmless. People do it all the time in our business. But Matt had other things in mind that I didn't know about."
"We'll worry about all of that later", Davies replied stoically, "Right now, I'm more concerned about finding Jeff Hardy and getting him into protective custody. Until we can get the warrants and proper paperwork needed for an investigation, we won't be able to lock Matt up. So, first priority is finding the victim, and protecting him. Do you know where he'd be? Any spots he haunts regularly?"
Adam and Jay looked at each other and shrugged helplessly.
"He's supposed to be at the hotel, but I haven't seen him", said Jay.
Suddenly, a commotion from the lobby interrupted them. There were several raised voices, arguing about something.
"What's going on out there?", asked Adam, brows furrowed in confusion.
"Would you excuse me for a moment?", Lieutenant Davies, "I'll be right back."
He rose and made his way out of the room, followed a few steps behind by a curious Edge and Christian.
"Sir, you need medical attention!"
"I'm fine! I just need a place to hide for the night! Please, just let me stay in one of your cells! I can pay, and I won't be any trouble!"
"What is going on here?" Davies' authoritative voice cut through the room, silencing everyone.
"JEFF?!!!!!", Edge and Christian exclaimed, their eyes wide with surprise and concern for their friend's condition.
Jeff stood leaning heavily against the precinct's reception desk, as if his legs could no longer bear his own weight. His face was bruised and swollen, and there was a dark, hand-shaped discoloration forming on his pale neck.
"Jesus Christ, man, what happened to you?", whispered Jay, his eyes wide.
Jeff's eyes met Jay's, his expression haunted. "He let me go, but he'll come back for me. He said so. I need to have a safe place to hide from him."
"This is Jeff Hardy?", asked Lieutenant Davies, his expression grim.
Jay nodded in confirmation. Jeff stared down at his hands on the desk, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was being spoken of.
Adam moved forward slowly, so as not to startle their obviously traumatized friend. "Jeffro?", he said gently.
"Don't call me that anymore", Jeff whispered, "Matt always called me that."
Adam shared a look of concern with Jay. "Okay, Jeff, no problem. Listen, buddy, you've gotta go to the hospital. I don't know what he did to you, but you're obviously hurt really badly. Jay and I will go with you, and I'm sure Lieutenant Davies can spare a cop or two to guard your room."
Jeff looked up slowly, his tired, watery gaze running first over Adam, then Jay, then over the police gathered in the small, crowded lobby. He was exhausted. He just wanted to sleep, and forget any of this had ever happened.
"You two'll come?", Jeff asked, needing to hear it again before he'd believe it.
Adam and Jay both smiled. "Yeah, Jeff, of course."
"Okay, I'll go to the hospital."
Matt stood on the roof of the empty building across the street, watching. He saw them load his brother into an ambulance. He watched as Edge and Christian got into their rental to follow the paramedics to the hospital. He saw two police cars follow, sirens blazing.
"So", he thought, "Edge decided to squeal."
Matt grinned.
If Edge wanted to up the stakes, that was fine by him. He had no problem destroying Adam. It would actually be an enjoyable prelude to the things he had planned for Jeff.
Poor Jeffy. Poor Adam.
Matt laughed, his head seething with dark thoughts that had yet to fall into place, like a jigsaw puzzle made of razor blades. Soon he would know his path. Soon, he would finish what he had started tonight.
Just let them try to save his worthless brother.
Just let them try.
AHHHH! OH NO! Matt got away! What an asshole Asshole Matt is. He's starting to lose his marbles, I think. Will he go after Edge next? What about Christian? What's Mark gonna do when he finds out about all of this? And will Jeff be ok? SO MANY QUESTIONS! This story was going to end, but I changed my mind, and I thought I'd write more, so you're stuck with Asshole Matt for a while longer, I think. So much to write, so little time! I'll try to get another update up in a timely fashion. Thanks for reading guys, and PLEASE SEND REVIEWS TO ME! I love them. They make me happy. :)