"Bret, buddy, pal o mine, if ya can't trust Shawn Michaels, who can you trust?" ~ HBK, taken from an episode of MNR before SummerSlam

"…and Hitman, the gentlemen down South who are not dinosaurs down there are my friends and they are gonna beat the hell outta ya one day whether you like it or not." ~ HBK, taken from the MNR following Montreal

"Look man, I just beat a man who's a legend in his own mind last night and ran him out of the WWF…" ~HBK, taken from the MNR following Montreal

"…by the way, how'd you know I was in that girly magazine? You couldn't help yourself could ya? You just had to flip through the pages a little bit didn't ya?" ~HBK to Bret, taken from an episode of MNR before Montreal

"…just because I choose to come out here and live my life openly and freely does not make you the better man Bret... See you like to put on a façade and in your mind you think that all of this is yours!" HBK to Bret, taken from a MNR before Montreal

~XX*RoadtoMontreal*XX~

Shawn finished lacing up his boots then ran a comb through his hair pulling it back for the night. Hunter was standing nearby, a look of revulsion on his face as he stared across the room at the commotion. Bret and his brother Owen were chatting it up with a few of their buddies, every now and then breaking into rautious laughter that no doubt was geared towards them. Shawn looked up nudging Hunter in the side. "Hunt, let it go. Whatever it is, it's not worth it. As you can see, I am in a relatively good mood and I refuse to let that pink bastard or any of his buddies ruin it for me." Shawn cast his eyes across the room, meeting Bret's gaze briefly before quickly looking away to cup Hunter's cheek. He pressed a kiss to his forehead grinning. "DX is about to be the proud owner of one World Wrestling Federation Championship in two weeks so doncha think that's better than worrying about what's said about us?"

Hunter sighed, finally nodding his head. "Yeah. Guess you're right, but man if they haven't been working my nerves all night."

Shawn shrugged and went back to fussing over his hair. "Meh you know Bret. Always got to show who's boss. Hmph. I'll be running the show again in a few weeks so who cares what he thinks?"

The door of the locker room opened and closed again several times, men coming in to change while others left for the ring. They were joined minutes later by Joanie and Waltman who shot death glares at the Harts as they accidentally brushed by them on their way out.

"Perfect timing guys," Hunter grinned. "What a way to clear out the trash."

Joanie laughed and Pac made a face. "Yeah well they needed to fuck off anyway. I'm getting sick of that little group boasting about Bret keeping the belt after Survivor Series. Fucking prick."

Hunter shook his head. "Naa guys. Shawn's winning the belt at Survivor Series. Vince is gonna give him another chance and with all the rumors that Bret's planning to leave, you can't really blame the guy."

Joanie and Pac both shot each other knowing looks. Shawn caught this which made him frown. "What the fuck was that look all about?" he demanded. "What do you know that I obviously don't?"

"Uh...I shouldn't really be in here so I'm gonna…" Joanie quickly exited the locker room leaving Pac to be cornered by his two good friends.

"Well?" Hunter asked. "You heard the man. Have you heard something?"

Pac sighed. "Look guys, you know I don't know much of nothing. Shit, people talk all the time and you both know fucking well Bret's been saying he's leaving for months now."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Yeah well Bret's just blowing hot air. He's really good at it too, but forget that," he said waving his hand dismissively. "What do you know about the pay per view? Did Vince change his mind? If he did then I swear to God he and I are about to go around the block. He fucking promised me that belt and I want it. Don't fucking promise me something for weeks then go back on it."

Pac winced. "Well…I don't really know Shawn. I know you guys tell me not to think much of rumors and shit, but fuck, it's hard not to when Jimmy's tellin' everyone that he's gonna buy everybody drinks in celebration of Bret's last night on Raw."

Shawn shrugged. "That's nothing to fret over Pac. Like I said, Bret's just blowing hot air and Jimmy's being a fucking ass, something his fat ass is good at." Shawn patted his shoulder. "Don't worry about it. The belt's coming back to DX and around my perfect waist where it belongs."

Pac still didn't look so sure so Hunter slapped his back. "Alright. Out with it. Why aren't you so sure about this? What? Did you hear Bret say so himself?"

Pac shook his head. "Not exactly. I just heard Bret telling Owen that Vince agreed to let him retain at the pay per view—Shawn don't—it could be a lie."

Shawn was now just standing there, his face no longer holding that cocky little smile Pac was used to. In fact, he looked almost cold as if he were glaring daggers through Pac. "Bret said…what exactly?" he asked quietly.

Pac looked to Hunter for help but he too was watching Shawn waiting for the inevitable bomb that was about to explode. "He—he said—said Vince—but you know he could be lying."

Shawn acted as if he didn't hear Pac as he pushed past him and headed out the door. Hunter and Pac shot each other wary looks before running behind him, knowing that this would be bad should the rumor turn out to be true and in H's mind, he had a sick feeling it was, if only to keep Bret from leaving like the rumors suggested. Shawn pushed past all the people waiting outside Vince's door ignoring all the snide remarks he was getting. The door was locked and since he was in no mood to wait, he started pounding on it. "Vince, open this goddamned door or I swear to fucking God I'll walk out of here with my European Championship around my waist and will never step foot in this dump again unless you grovel before me!" He pounded some more, most of the others in line backing off now knowing, or rather, assuming Vince would take insult to this. "Vince, I'm not fucking kidding! I need to see you now and if you don't open in the next second, I'm outta here—one half of your fucking main event walks!"

The door suddenly opened, a distraught Pat Patterson and tired McMahon standing just inside the room. "Shawn, for the love of God man, what in the world is wrong with you?" Pat asked. Pat was always fond of Shawn so he stepped aside allowing Shawn followed closely by Hunter and Pac to enter the office, closing the door behind them. "What's got your tights wound tighter than those britches you normally parade around in? You seemed just fine when I saw you last."

Vince plopped back down in the chair behind his desk, looking like he had not slept in ages. Shawn didn't care. He completely ignored Pat, marching right up to Vince's desk slamming the belt down. "So whose fucking belt does this belong to?" he asked.

Both Pat and Vince looked at each other and then to Hunter and Pac almost begging them to answer but even they looked confused.

"Come on Vin Man," Shawn continued, tapping his foot in annoyance. "Who does this fucking belong to?"

Vince rolled his eyes. "Is that a trick question?" Shawn looked as if he was ready to come across that desk at Vince who slowly stood to his feet, his voice low and calm as if pacifying Shawn. "Shawn, what are you asking? If you're truthfully asking about that belt then I'm pretty sure it belongs to you. After all, you're the super star that's wearing that prize right?"

Shawn rolled his eyes, snatching the belt off of the desk and holding it up. "So if Bret came in here and put on the same show, you'd tell him the same thing as well? That the WWE Championship belongs to him right?"

Vince sighed. "Shawn, what is this all about?"

"Just answer the fucking question alright!" he snapped. "Would you tell Bret the same fucking thing or not?"

Vince looked around the room, completely confused as to why Shawn was upset. He glanced at Hunter hoping he would give him some kind of explanation but he was too loyal to his friend to speak up so with a sigh, he shook his head. "No, I would not."

"And why wouldn't you Vince?" he asked quietly.

"Because you're my star," he answered soothingly. Pat moved to stand behind the angry young star, patting his back. "You're the guy," Vince continued, "who's going to be wearing the top prize around his waist in a couple of days."

"Then explain to me why the fuck Bret's going around telling everyone that he's going to retain at Survivor Series? Did you promise him my belt and my spot? God help you if you did Vince. I swear to God I will leave outta here tonight, call Eric on the way out and meet with the rival comp that's kicking our ass each week all in the same breath and if you don't release me outta my contract I will embarrass you and this entire company on live TV in front of 8 million people so try me. At least if I leave, I can be with my friends."

Pat squeezed Shawn's shoulders moving to stand next to Vince who was now staring down at his desk as if he were lost. "I actually did tell Bret he could keep—

Shawn didn't wait for Vince to finish. He tossed his title to the side and started for the door. "Fuck this. I'm outta here."

"Shawn, let me explain! I have to explain or else you won't understand—I had no choice Shawn!" he shouted, almost pleadingly.

Shawn stopped at the door, whipping around glaring daggers at Vince, his eyes flashing dangerously. "You had no choice?" he asked, almost in disbelief. "Oh don't you dare give me that bullshit! You're the fucking boss. The paycheck. The owner so how dare you fucking stand before me and tell me you had no choice! You're already paying that selfish bastard way more money than me or anyone else so why the fuck can't he accept that I'm better than him now and get the fuck outta my spot light? And why do you listen to his hot air? You know full well he's not gonna leave his brother and Davey for WCW. Bret's not exactly the risk taking type," he spat bitterly, thinking only of how his relationship with Bret was secret due to him being afraid of a gay label.

At this, Pac snorted. "So why'd you break your promise to me Vince?" Shawn continued, tapping his foot impatiently and staring at Vince coldly trying his best not to lunge at him for hurting him like this. "This hurts ya know. I've been…putting up with bullshit all year long but I smile and move on because I knew I would be back on my throne soon. This—I can't believe you'd do this to me but you know what?" He started backing away pointing his finger accusingly at Vince. "Fuck it. I don't need you. I don't need this company and I sure as hell don't need to be around Hart. I'm calling Eric tonight because I got more talent than both your rosters combined so fuck you." He looked over at Pat. "And fuck you Mr. I'm-Always-On-Your-Side-Shawn," he mocked.

He pushed past Hunter once again damn near sprinting for the door until Vince spoke up quietly. "He already signed the contract. Bret's last night is Survivor Series."

Shawn paused, his face hidden so no one could really see what he was thinking. "You lie." Hunter reached out to touch Shawn but he shook him off, whipping around to glare at Vince. "Bret's not leaving. You're just trying to justify going back on your word but I know Bret better than you think and I say he's full of shit."

Both Pat and Vince shook their heads. "I'm not kidding Shawn. Bret's last night is the pay per view and starting the Monday after he officially belongs to Eric Bischoff. The only problem is that he doesn't want to put you over. He wants to win his last match in his home country then vacate the belt the next night on Raw. I don't agree with this since traditionally, if you're on your way out you're supposed to do the job but he refuses to compete unless he can retain." Vince slumped back down in his chair. "I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do."

Shawn remained quiet as he stood there staring at the floor, no doubt fuming on the inside. Unable to take the uncomfortable silence anymore, Hunter spoke up. "Vince, I can't help but notice how you sorta gave into Bret's demands. I mean, don't get me wrong. He's a top star and ya gotta do what's right for business, but you had to know Shawn was going to be pissed at this. Seems to me like you don't care all that much for him if you're sweeping him under the rug for Hart."

Vince shook his head. "No…it's not like that Hunter and I'm not really planning on letting Bret keep that belt either. I just figured Shawn was the most loyal of the two; that I could count on him to stick around no matter what because he's always been one of my most dedicated stars and the best at what he does." Vince watched Shawn as he spoke hoping that his words were sinking in and that he was finally understanding the situation. Bret didn't want to listen and Vince was only too eager to find a way to make him listen; to do what's right for all parties involved.

"I need a moment," Shawn said quietly as he turned to leave. With each step he took down the hall, the hushed whispers became greater in number, pissing him off even more so that by the time he got to the locker room, he was more than ready to tear into somebody. He burst through the door and as expected the room grew eerily quiet, which was just what he wanted anyway. Some of the guys could tell just by the look on his face that there was about to be drama so most of them gathered their things to finish dressing elsewhere. Only Bret and Mark stayed behind, each one sitting quietly on opposite sides of the room doing their own thing and completely ignoring his presence.

Shawn clicked his tongue. He didn't appreciate being ignored and he was about to have Hart's undivided attention for he needed answers. He grabbed one of the steel chairs folding it up and with a smirk he tossed it across the room, the chair almost taking Bret's head clean off. Mark looked up but merely shrugged and resumed his reading while Bret quickly jumped to his feet, his face contorted with rage. "What the hell is your problem? You could have taken me out!"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh I doubt that Bret. Gonna take something a little bigger than a steel chair to bring that head of yours down to size."

"You're crazy."

"And you're selfish," he shot back. "So don't you have something you wanna tell me?"

Bret shrugged. "Not really."

"Tch. So that's how it is now?"

"Should it be any other way?" he asked, a slight hint of challenge in his voice. "We broke up so the way I see it, I don't have to tell you much of anything slut."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Still letting those rumors cloud that big head of yours but whatever. I'm just saying It would have been nice if you'd have clued your fuck buddy in on your future plans but I guess that's asking too much of a partner."

"Now you look here," Bret growled. "You and I are nothing."

"Oh for the love of Christ—cut the fucking act!" he screamed. "Mark's not stupid. In fact I'm pretty sure more than half the roster knows just what you are and you're just too stupid to realize it."

Bret got right in his face. "Oh and what am I? Certainly not like you."

"And here we go again…" Shawn turned away from his crossing his arms. "Why do I even bother with you? It was pretty obvious after our trip to the UK that you would never be what I wanted and yet here I am, legit trying in my own fucking way to make some sense out of all of this but I guess Hunter was right. I'm too stupid and I'm a glutton for punishment."

"Hunter," Bret said quietly. "Always that big nosed bastard and just another reason to leave without ever looking back."

Shawn turned to face him, his face expressionless as he fought the urge to just lunge at Bret and pound him to the floor for being such a heartless dick right now. "So since you're leaving, don't you think it's only right you put me over? After all, I am a bigger star than you right now so it's only right you do the job."

Bret frowned. "Sorry, but I'm not losing in my home country, especially to you, my biggest rival."

"So if the shoe was on the other foot, you wouldn't say shit about me refusing to put you over right?"

Bret shrugged. "Probably not. Can't make any promises since you're not exactly the easiest person to get along with."

"Oh and you are? Mr. Lord God Almighty. Everything has to be the Hitman's way or no way at all right?"

"Exactly," he smirked.

"You know what? I've had it with you. Fuck you. I hope you're happy on the other side of the fence and you know what else?" He got right in Bret's face smirking. "I can't wait to kick your ass every night in the ratings because I am better than you. Always have been , always will be and it eats you up inside knowing that the guy you see as just a piece of ass fairy boy that you can poke every now and then is the one McMahon chose to sit upon the throne as champ and not you, Mr. Dried Up Hitman with nowhere else to go, but me," laughs coldly, "the only place I've got to go is up. The sky's the limit for me." Shawn poked at his belt. "Best you hang onto that while you can. You never know what could happen between now and Montreal."

"Nothing's…going to happen between now and Montreal. I'm going to kick your scrawny ass like I did in Anaheim, retain my WWE Championship, and go on to better things while you're stuck here with your new boyfriend struggling to keep ratings up."

"He's not my boyfriend!" he snapped irritably. "And if that's why you're leaving then you're stupid. I would—do you really think that less of me Bret? That I would allow a guy I hardly even know…" He was hurting and it was taking everything he had not to cry. Why couldn't Bret see that it was still the same despite their time apart?

Bret ran a hand through his hair staring down at the floor. "It's not like you make it easy for me Shawn." He sighed. "I don't know what—I didn't know what to think anymore and since you're always so busy with your new friends, I took the liberty of making sure me and my family were gonna be alright and to be honest Shawn, we're just fooling ourselves."

"Fooling ourselves?" He scoffed. "Oh that's real cute Bret. Tell me something. Were we fooling ourselves the other night when I was clinging to you as you screwed me through the mattress? Oh wait. Were we fooling ourselves the next morning during our normal ritual in the shower? Or when I was on my knees for you later that day? Don't..." He held up his hand scowling. "Don't fucking give me that excuse because if a part of you didn't still want this to work, you wouldn't be fucking me every chance you get."

"None of that exactly matters anymore Shawn," he answered quietly. "What's done is done. It's too late now. I've made up my mind and if I mean that much to you, you'd put your ego aside for one night. You'd prove that you're not just putting on another one of your acts after a tantrum and show me that you mean it."

"Wha—are you fucking kidding me?" he stammered. "Oh God!" He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths trying to make some sense of all of this but this was too much. He suddenly threw himself at Bret tackling him to the floor. "I can't believe you—bastard!" He punched him hard in the jaw only for him to flip them over attempting to restrain him, but he was kicking and thrashing too wildly out of anger to be stopped just yet.

"Shawn! Get a fucking grip!"

Shawn landed another in his face, tears streaming down his own as he screamed loudly. "Bastard! I hate you! You son-of-a-bitch! Selfish…I loved you and this is how you dump me? Fuck you…hate you!"

Bret scrambled to his feet with Shawn quickly following lunging at him again only to be grabbed by the waist and slammed against the opposite wall. He grabbed him by the neck, squeezing just hard enough to shut him up, a knee placed between his legs to keep him from kicking. "Stop it," Mark growled. "That's enough. You two are disturbing my reading and unless you both want to end up on the other end of my boot, you'll settle down and talk things out like men."

Mark looked over his shoulder at Bret frowning. "It's pretty clear to me you don't want this go no farther than this room and I'll respect that since you've never bothered me, but I'm gonna throw my two cents in and be gone. You're both two fucked up individuals that probably should have never hooked up to begin with for several reasons I'm sure you've gone over in your minds when ya lay in bed alone at night." Mark turned back to Shawn slowly loosening his grip on the crying blonde. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I apologize. It'll never happen again." He backed away from them both, grabbed his book and left the room leaving the two lovers alone.

It was quiet for a long time, the silence in the room almost drowning the two individuals as they swam in a pool of their own thoughts. Bret turned away from Shawn, probably not liking the tears while Shawn continued to stare off into space as if dead to the world. After a while, he wiped his eyes and walked to the door. "Aren't you going to say something?" he asked quietly, masking the hurt and anger with a monotone voice.

Bret threw up his hands. "Fuck Shawn, what do you want me to say? We screw around and make empty promises to one another all the time knowing full well we're only fooling ourselves. After last time—after tonight—I don't think…" He shook his head. "Aren't you tired of this? I'm leaving. It's—the deal is done and since we can't be together anyway, we might as well quit while we're ahead."

"Thank you Bret. That's all I needed to know." He walked out of the locker room, wiping his eyes as he hurried up the hall. By now everyone was either leaving, getting ready to go on, or too occupied with scripts to even care what Shawn was up to. The line in front of Vince's office was gone so he took it upon himself to walk on in without knocking, both Hunter and Pac still sitting inside with solemn expressions on their faces. Hunter jumped to his feet and grabbed Shawn, throwing his arms around him, but Shawn gently pushed him away. "I'm fine." He turned to Vince who was still sitting behind his desk, his face strained with worry. He walked up to the desk chewing his lip for a moment he said quietly, "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

Vince looked over at Pat wondering if Shawn was volunteering to do what he was hoping he would do all along. "Shawn…sweetie what exactly are you saying?"

Hunter smirked as he moved to stand beside Shawn, putting an arm around him. "He's saying Vince, that if Bret won't do business then we'll do business for him."

"Is…that right?" Pat asked, looking at Shawn for confirmation.

He nodded his head, wiping his eyes again. "Yeah. That's exactly what I'm saying. I—I want my belt. I want my belt in Montreal."

Vince leaned across the desk, a small smile on his face. "Gentlemen, let's talk."

~XX*xx*XX~

"We sent Pac away because we didn't want him involved," Shawn continued. "He looked pretty uncomfortable but Hunter's a soldier. He stayed with me promising Pat, whose biggest concern was for my safety, that nothing would happen to me that day. He wanted to be ringside for it all but I believe Vince shot it down initially thinking the Hart's would suspect something."

"And he was right," Bret added, sounding somewhat bitter. "Your threat about holding onto the belt didn't phase me at all but days after that last break up, people started talking of a swerve. I don't know if your boy Pac told it, but in the back of my mind I couldn't help but wonder if Vince would keep his word." Bret looked over at Shawn. "I just never suspected you'd be involved considering what we had no matter how bad it ended."

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Well I'm sorry I disappointed you Bret. You didn't love me anymore and you planned to leave me, without fucking telling me yet I was supposed to do the honorable thing and just let you have your way right?" Shawn scoffed. "Sorry, but I don't think so. You hurt my feelings that day. I'm pretty sure when you looked me in the eye and said that we were nothing, my heart shattered."

"Yeah but Shawn, we had broken up. You—we had a literal fight the time before—

"Oh please," Hunter jumped in, growling at Bret. "You two fought all the time and then he'd come running into my arms. The next thing I know, he's lying in your bed and all is hunky fucking dory again so don't," Hunter said, waving his hand. "You're so full of shit you're starting to stink up the place."

Bret jumped to his feet. "Fuck I'm about tired of your fucking mouth! If there was one person I could have hit that day, it's you. God I wished I could have hit you instead of threatening to hit Shawn but your chicken shit ass was somewhere hiding!"

"Hiding!" Hunter sputtered. "You've gotta be joking! Hiding from you? Yeah right."

Chris winced. He didn't want another fight to jump off even though he was pretty sure that it was inevitable at this point. "Hey, guys. Come on. Let's…let's hurry this up since I know you all are ready to get the hell out of this stuffy room."

Bret sat back down, now seething at Hunter tapping his foot impatiently. "You know what? Before we jump into the actual event, Id just like to point out that things mighta turned out differently had Shawn come directly to me after he heard the rumors."

"We've already been over this Bret!" Shawn snapped. "You didn't want to be seen with me in public and it's as you said, we were nothing so moot point."

"No—wait. Shawn, before you finally decided to ask Vince about it, you were right," he said, clutching Shawn's hand loosely. "I was just blowing hot air. I—I was undecided for a long time but the night you came to me, it was already too late and…before…when I first started the negotiations, I wanted you to come with me, but then I let my family talk me out of it. They said to me, 'What's the point of leaving to start fresh and you're taking the problem with you?' I couldn't argue with that logic and since you and I quit speaking for almost 2 months, I assumed…I figured we were really done this time, but now I see…that night you punched me…you were trying…"

Bret's voice trailed off and he stared down at the floor. The more they talked, the more it looked like just one big old misunderstanding and bad timings that created a mess that never should have happened to begin with. In fact, it was bad enough now that a part of him didn't want to continue for fear of what else he might find out.

Chris cleared his throat. "So where do we go from here?" he asked quietly. "Bret, do you want to pick up from here?"

Bret shook his head. "I can't. It's all Shawn from this point on. I'll just throw in my two cents when and where it's needed. You won't need me until after it actually happens."

Chris looked to Shawn. "You want to continue picking up after the big meeting with Vince?"

Shawn shook his head. "No. I'll just jump right into it. For the next two weeks I made Bret's life a living hell but it didn't come without a price. I had too many enemies and they were only too happy to let it be known. I would come back from a shoot and my locker room would be trashed. Or…several times I was jumped in the back when the rest of DX wasn't around and I can remember this one night… I was in the middle of a shoot and someone jumped me from behind but Arn and Pat pulled them off of me. This is live TV and I looked at the camera—I was so frustrated—and I just started screaming how much longer is this shit gonna go on? By now I'd had it with the whole Bret-Shawn rivalry. For two years Bret and I were at it onscreen but it didn't help that we were at it off screen too."

Shawn went quiet for a while and Chris couldn't help but notice the strain in his face and how he looked so exhausted all of a sudden. Chris wanted to call the whole thing off. He'd heard enough to know that this was all a big misunderstanding to begin with but he wasn't sure they'd want to. They'd come so far—it would be sin not to finish it now. He glanced over at Bret who looked just as weary while Hunter just looked plum out of it. Chris wasn't going to urge either man to continue so instead he leaned back in his chair, waiting for one of them to start talking again at their convenience.

Through the silence Bret couldn't bear to look at Shawn. All of these years he believed so many things, but they were the wrong things and now he felt like a fool. On the other hand, a part of him still felt rage and discontent. Shawn didn't have to agree to it. Shawn could have… Look at me…Trying to blame him all over again when it was McMahon that rang the bell. Bret found it in himself to look over at Shawn whose face was blanketed by his hair. He was leaning forward in his chair staring down the floor, apparently feeling the same sick feeling they both felt on that day. Bret looked away, realizing that they only had a bit more to get through and it would be over so he forced himself to keep talking.

"It…The days leading up to Montreal were hectic for me," he said softly. "I was filming my documentary 'Wrestling With Shadows' so I had cameras following me around. I don't think Vince was aware that the crew would be at the pay per view and I'm sure once he found out, he shit bricks, but obviously not enough to go back to the original finish."

"If you don't mind my asking," Chris started, "what exactly was the original finish?"

"Well…" Bret started but Shawn cut him off quietly.

"We're not even sure anymore," Shawn answered. "What you all don't know is that Vince went over several finishes with me days before the pay per view. By the time Survivor Series was upon us, I had no clue how the match would go. That day…that day in Montreal was a day unlike any other. Not because of what went down but because…" He paused. "The day started off so differently. There were signs…like you just knew something was going down but I had to eat it and act like all was well. The ironic thing about that day is that Bret and I talked. We had a long, cordial conversation about the match and came up with a finish. I'm gonna take a moment here just to point out that what separates good from greatness is the ability to call a match. These days, the guys get scripts and they go over the match sequence by sequence before ever stepping foot in the ring but Bret and I never did that. He would always, as ring general, call a great match often times deviating to do things I wanted to do. The only reason we went over that match this particular day is because it was a weird day and again, no match ending had been set in stone."

Bret nodded, his heart skipping just a little at Shawn's sincere praise of him, something he never thought he'd hear again. "Yeah. I think…the original ending Vince pitched to me is a DQ. By now you all know I didn't want to drop the belt in my country so I told Vince we needed something besides Shawn pinning me for the three count. I think the idea was to have DX interfere to save Shawn from tapping to the sharpshooter then Owen and Davey would come out to even the score, but my understanding of it was that Vince called Shawn about that ending and he didn't like it."

Shawn nodded. "No, I didn't like it because it didn't make sense. You were leaving so how would that ending put the final stamp on our rivalry so to speak? I didn't like it but I never told him I wouldn't deal with it. He called me and asked so I gave him an honest opinion."

"So what did Vince say when you told him you didn't like it?" Chris asked.

Shawn finally sat up, leaning back in his chair again still tense all over. "I—I don't really remember. Something about we're never gonna get the belt on you if we don't find a better ending so I told him that if they couldn't come up with one then I'll put Bret over and whatever. That would be the end of it. Did I want to put Bret over? Hell no. Not at all because he was leaving so again, how much sense would that make? However, I told Vince—and I gave him my word—I'd do anything he wanted me to do even if I didn't like it."

"Did you like the idea of screwing Bret over?" Chris asked. For a long time Shawn remained silent thinking of his answer.

"Honestly, no," he finally admitted. "I didn't really—in my heart—want to screw Bret over but at the time, it seemed like he left Vince no choice and since I was still fuming over our last fight, I was only too happy to prove Bret wrong. I wanted that belt just to wear it in front of him and show him that not everything is gonna go the Hitman's way especially on his way out the door. I wanted another way, but the way Vince talked the screwjob was the only option we had so I went with it."

Chris nodded. "Alright. That sounds fair so now Bret, before Shawn continues with the story, I got to know. Did others suspect something was going down that day? How was the rest of the roster leading up to Montreal?"

Bret shook his head. "It was bad. Like, everyone knew Shawn and I were at odds off screen. They knew that in their eyes, we couldn't stand the ground the other walked on which was probably true most days that year, but deep down I still cared for Shawn—loved him even—but I was young. I figured something better would come along so after that final break up with Shawn, I kept my head in the game by focusing on my documentary and doing shoot style interviews to hype the pay per view. But between all of that, guys like Vader and few others that were pretty cool with me, kept asking me did I suspect something was gonna go down. Apparently they saw Shawn's outburst at Vince about the belt and figured since Shawn was probably going to be the man once I was out of the picture that Vince would find a way to screw me over. At first I laughed about it. Ya know, Vince was always a man of his word so I didn't think nothing of it. But then even Davey was starting to agree with the guys. Too many people said they saw Shawn talking with Vince and Pat a lot so they kept coming to me, telling me not to let Shawn put me in any kind of holds. After a while it got to me and then that's when I started feeling uneasy about the whole thing. I got a feeling, you know, that something wouldn't go as planned which is why I made it my business to see Shawn before the match to make sure I knew exactly how we would end it."

Shawn suddenly stood to his feet, the overwhelming tension in the air making it hard to breath now. "I need a break," he said as he headed out the door. Bret watched him leave, resisting the urge to go after him but secretly thanking God for the moment's reprieve. His chest was starting to hurt as well as his head. He was tense all over and already he could see that awful day beginning to play in his head. Needing a distraction, Bret pulled out his cell phone. He was gonna play a few games until Shawn was ready to continue but he had several missed calls and a new voice mail. He scrolled through the missed calls, blinking in disbelief at a number he hadn't seen since the call about his Hall of Fame induction. McMahon…why would he be calling me? He stood to his feet and left as well assuring Chris he would be back shortly. He passed Shawn in the hall but did not attempt to console him for fear of getting his head chopped off. Instead he turned a corner and dialed his voice mail. Sure enough it was McMahon speaking and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.

Bret, it's Vince. Give me a call when you get some time. I was doing some thinking today and I feel like it's time we talked so…think it over. I want to make you an offer, one I hope you'd like as sort of a peace offering since I don't think we quite reached that point after your Hall of Fame induction. Hope to hear from you soon.

Bret just held the phone for several seconds looking confused. Why now Vince? Why now he wondered. He would have to wait and find out later. He could hear Hunter out in the hall coaxing Shawn back into room which meant it was time to finish this once and for all. All the rumors, all the lies—everything—was about to be out in the open. He just prayed that when it was all over, they could mend what was broken so many years ago.

AN: You guys should know me by now. This fic gets updated when I take the notion or when inspiration hits. The young Shawn that lives in my head started screaming his head off one night so here ya go. Now for things you need to know:

- I am NOT trying to make Shawn look good. On the other hand, this is what I think happened - minus the slash - coming up to Montreal and all of my writing is based on FACTS that you can get if you read their books, YouTube a few promos, and watch their DVDs.

- I think Bret's onto something about Vince turning them against one another. It was no secret that Bret and Shawn, real life rivals, hated each other so it made perfect sense to have Shawn wrestle Bret at Survivor Series. Think about it.

- FACT: Just about everything you read in this chapter are facts; facts that came directly from shoot interviews, especially the last interview portion of it. I quoted Hunter quite possibly word for word from Heartbreak & Triumph and Shawn word for word from a combination of shoot and his DVD.

- If Bret is looking like the bad guy here, it's unintentional. That just means you're starting to see something other than his side of the story you've gotten for years.

- The quotes at the beginning of the chapter were some that made me laugh. HBK had a big mouth...xD

Preview of the next chapter:

"...he told me to whatever you do, deny it. If Bret asks...anyone asks, deny it. You know nothing...Vince wanted the blame all on him..." ~ HBK