Daffodils
Smackdown opened with it's usual bells and whistles.
"We are coming to you tonight from Raleigh, North Carolina." JR yelled over the crowd noise. "Tonight, will we hear from Evan Bourne regarding the status of one Randy Orton after what happened on RAW?"
"It was supposed to be Orton and Baker against Priceless, but Bourne made sure that Randy would not make his match." JR continued his narration over the highlight package. "Well speak of the devil."
Evan and a smug-looking Jack Tyler marched down to the ring. It was a very strange reaction from the fans.
"Well, Raleigh, we promised answers and we're going to deliver... maybe." Bourne gloated "You see, Hardys, you thought you had it bad but tonight it's only gonna get worse..."
Backstage, Matt and Jeff paced. Tom was nearby, splitting his attention between the ring and his phone. He'd been talking about constantly with Eric, trying to come up with a plan to rescue Randy that might work.
"Without Orton, you guys are nothing." Tyler taunted "Jeff was never anything but a toy, but all these fans, as well as the entire locker room knows that already."
If it was possible for steam to vent from the human head, then Jeff's new ring name would be "The Enigmatic Teakettle".
"Relax, Jeffro." Matt wrapped his arms around his brother. Not that he needed to hold Jeff back, he just wanted to. "Wait for Tom to finish."
"The next TV taping is Monday in Albuquerque." Tom answered "Can you make it?"
Eric flipped through his calendar. "Dude, I got the whole week free right now."
"I'll catch up with you in Cameron when I can. Prolly Thursday." Tom mentally went through his day planner. "I'll give you a complete itinerary then."
"Works for me."
"I gotta go." It was nearing the time for their Aces to make their appearance.
Eric hung up, grinning evilly. He did feel a little sorry for Matt, but the last thing he wanted was them back together. Vince's earlier plan aside, Eric had developed feelings for the middle Hardy the second he'd seen him hanging on his fence.
"... so Hardys, if you want your precious Legend Killer back so badly, why don't you come out here and make us tell you where he is?" Evan taunted
As if Matt needed an invitation. The words had barely left Evan's lips when Matt and Jeff ran down to the ring, wicked intentions in their minds and forced smiles on their faces.
"We were starting to wonder what it was gonna take to get your sorry asses down here?" Tyler laughed
"We're here... where's Randy?" Matt demanded
"Whoa, tiger... not so fast." Evan answered "When we said Hardys, we meant ALL of them... until we see three Hardys in the ring, we ain't sayin' nothin'."
Matt and Jeff looked behind them. They'd thought Tom was with them.
"Tommy!" Matt shouted
After an intolerable pause, Tom finally appeared. Not because he wanted to be dramatic, but because he was afraid of what he might do.
"Come on down, Tommy." Evan gestured for him to enter the ring.
He remained at the top of the stage. "You seriously want me to come in there? After all the crap that the two of you have put my family through, I'd think you'd want nothing to do with me."
Evan and Jack whispered to each other. "You're all talk, Hardy." Evan shouted "Now get your ass in this ring or the deal is off!"
Tom took two steps forward and then stopped again. "Aren't you even a little bit concerned that I may do something that would make what I did to Tyler in the psych ward seem tame?"
Jack went a little white when the memories of the pain Tom had inflicted upon him returned.
"Dude, you lay one finger on either of us and..."
"Lemme guess, the deal is off?" Tom raised his eyebrow, curiously staring at the two. "How exactly do we find out what you've done to Randy?"
Another quick conversation between Tyler and Bourne. "How about a match?" Bourne suggested
"When we win, you tell us where Randy is!" Matt shouted
"You mean if." Evan corrected "When we win, Randy stays ours for a little bit longer."
"You're on." Jeff answered, tossing his jacket aside. Matt followed suit.
"Wait a minute. We're making the rules tonight." Bourne said "You'll fight when we're ready."
Theodore Long's music interrupted and he came out onstage.
"Much as I hate any animal being in captivity, I have to agree with Evan. You can't have a match right now."
Matt glared at the General Manager. Just the thought of his Randy being held in captivity was enough to make him seethe.
"First, we need to decide what kind of match it will be... it could be a cage match..."
The crowd roared.
"Or an 'I quit' match..."
Louder roars
"Or even a falls-count-anywhere match!"
The roars for this were the loudest.
"I'm gonna take a page out of Bob Barker's book playa. It's time for the Showcase Throwdown. Now on our big wheel is a number of different types of matches. You'll spin the wheel and it must go all the way around at least once or it doesn't count and you don't get to spin again." Teddy announced "And since Tom, you ain't gonna be in this, you'll spin to determine the stipulation."
Tom crossed his fingers and spun. He watched the different types of matches go by, hoping for a No-DQ match so he could get a few shots in. He watch the first blood match go by, the Texas death match pass, and his personal favorite: the tuxedo match flip by. That match would've been more fun for almost everyone else, Tom having seen all four competitors naked, hard, and in three cases, come, although Tyler had been close when Tom last saw him.
Teddy watched alongside. "Could be Hell in The Cell.... a little fast... here comes the submission match... there it goes... looks like..."
The wheel flipped over one more peg.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it will be the Hardy Boyz versus Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler in a Tables-Ladders-and-Chairs Match." Teddy announced "Holla holla."
Matt and Jeff looked at each other and smiled. From the stage, Tom was also happy. At least his brothers would get their hands on Bourne and Tyler, leaving Tom to do some snooping backstage, on the small chance that Randy was held captive somewhere nearby. It made sense; why leave their precious somewhere somebody might find him?
"What about him?" Bourne shouted from the stage. "We don't want him involved!"
Any chance of snooping went out the window right that moment.
"Yeah." Tyler sneered "If he sticks his face in this, the deal is off."
"Fine. If it'll keep y'all happy, I'll stick him in a match with... the Miz!"
"What the hell?" Tom shouted "The Miz! Isn't he..."
"I'll explain in the back." Long strutted off the stage, leaving a very anxious Matt and Jeff and a very pissed-off Tom staring at Evan and Jack.
Shaking his head in disgust, Tom followed the GM backstage.
"You always concede to a pair of thugs?" Tom spat
"Look, I know what's goin' on with you guys and I feel for ya, playa, but I can't let the inmates run the asylum..."
"But the Miz? Since when do I get babysitting duty?" Miz's ring work as of late had been spotty. He'd recently been told by Shane-O Mac that he had two options... get his act together on Smackdown or take his tights and go home.
"Tommy, listen. Despite this Aces thing, a lotta guys still trust ya. Somethin's up with Miz. Maybe you can draw him out." Teddy pleaded
"You just better hope that Matt and Jeff win. If I smell another screw job, you'll be the next on our hit list." Tom wagged his finger at Long, then set off to find his pet project.
"You're on in twenty minutes, so you better hurry."
"The things I do." Tom growled
He checked the main locker room. No Miz. He looked in catering. No Miz. He searched the bathrooms, male and female. No Miz. And the stupid thing was, no one had seen him.
"Miz?" Tom started looking in the smaller locker rooms. No sign of Mike, but Tom found his travel bag in one of them. Mike's date book was on top.
"Oh well..." Tom leafed through it. Nothing unusual, other than it was a two year book. Mike habitually listed his flights and match schedules, as Tom found out when he flipped back a few pages, but the only thing listed today was the words "ONE YEAR".
"One year?" Tom asked, then an idea came to him. He leafed back to the page from that date one year ago. Again, nothing work-related was listed, just the notation. 'J.M. RIP!!!' and a sad face.
"Of course." Tom kicked himself. It was obvious what was causing the distractions, but everyone was too busy to see it.
"Shit!" Tom swore
"You always look through people's stuff when they're not around?"
Tom jumped at the voice.
"Not usually..."
Mike snatched his book from Tom and tucked it in the bag. "They must really hate me. I gotta fight you."
Tom ignored that comment. "One year, huh?"
Mike's face went crimson. "You asshole!" He lunged at Tom, fists flying.
"Easy, Mike." Tom grabbed Mike's arm and twisted it behind him, pushing him against the wall. "Look the reason, and the only reason, that I'm your opponent is some bullshit about how a lotta the guys still like me, and since we have to put a match together there might be a chance that you'll tell me what the hell is wrong." He pushed Mike away from the wall. "But I think I have a good idea."
"What do you care anyway... you're like everyone else in this company!"
"Not true... everyone else in this company isn't married to his brother." Tom replied
That was meant to get a laugh, but Miz didn't oblige, instead sitting on a bench with his chin in his hands.
"You were really close with Morrison, weren't you?" Tom sat down beside Mike. It was hard to believe that one year had passed since Jeff had taken matters into his own hands.
"Duh!" Mike answered
"You know, maybe if you had said something to someone earlier, maybe things wouldn't seem as hopeless?" Tom said
"You wrestled within days of your momma dyin', what would you know about it?" Mike's face was getting redder with each sentence and Tom had a hunch that he was gonna explode into either violence or tears very soon. He braced himself for either eventuality.
"Only because I had two brothers who really cared about me." Tom answered "And can I talk to Mike for a few minutes, not 'The Miz', please?"
When he did finally turn his head, the arrogance of The Miz was gone.
Tom took a deep breath. He did not want to come off condescending, but he also couldn't tell Mike what really happened. The case was still open as far as he knew. "Morrison did not deserve what happened to him. I was raised that the taking of a life is wrong, no matter what the circumstances. But things happen and I've learned that instead of dwelling on the sadness, remember all the good times... I'm sure you had many, right?" He raised his eyebrow.
Mike nodded sullenly.
"How about we find a way to make you happy again?"
"Bring Johnny back?" Mike suggested
"I wish I could." Tom almost laughed, but caught himself in time. "I ain't supposed to do this since we're doin' this whole domination angle, but how about I put you over?"
"Clean?" Mike asked, his shoulders starting to shake.
"However you want." Tom gently patted his shoulder. "Think of it as my way of saying goodbye to JoMo since I never had the chance."
...
"Ladies and Gentlemen, this contest is scheduled for one fall..."
Backstage, Evan and Jack were waiting for the match between the Miz and Tom to get underway.
"Stroke of genius, getting Long to set up that match with the Miz." Evan laughed
"Exactly." Tyler slapped hands with his partner in crime. "You talked to Miz?"
"Yeah. He knows what to do." Evan answered
"First, representing the Four Aces. From the City of the Angels, weighing two hundred sixty pounds, Tom Baker!"
Tom walked out, enjoying the reaction from the crowd. Despised one week, cheered the next; he loved it that the WWE universe didn't know if they were coming or going.
"...and his opponent, from Cleveland Ohio, weighing two hundred thirty one pounds... the Miz!"
It was a special night already, but even more special for the Miz. Tom had said a few other things to him backstage and this brought out a different Miz. Gone were the trunks and back was the outfit he'd worn when tagging with the late John Morrison, including fedora, gloves, and a black armband with JOMO on it. Even the music was the old stuff.
Tom nodded serenely. He wasn't sure how many fans would remember, but he wasn't going to ruin the moment. At least not until the match started.
They met in the middle of the ring and started jaw-jacking at each other. Tom mouthed something that sounded like 'yeah, right', then flipped the hat off Miz's head, followed by a standing clothesline.
Tom stomped the Miz into the mat, and would've kept on stomping if Mike hadn't suddenly spun and caught his foot, flipping Tom to one side. He sprawled near the ropes, wondering if returning to the ring as a stipulation had been such a good idea. He felt a tweak in his knee when he landed.
"Dammit!" Tom swore quietly. "If it's not one thing with this body, it's another!"
Miz backed Tom against the ropes and unfortunately went after his other knee. Now both of Tom's joints were starting to throb.
"Easy, Mike, jeez!" Tom whispered
"Sorry, Tommy, but I made a deal!" Miz replied
"What kind of deal?" Tom asked
"I promised Evan I'd take you out of the picture." He said softly. "But..."
"But what?" Tom prepared to go insane on his ass. Putting Mike over dropped to the bottom of his niceness list.
"After how nice you were, I dunno if I can." Mike said this while ramming his elbow into Tom's solar plexus several times. "Everyone else treated me like a brat having a tantrum."
"Well, I'm sure we can come up with something." Tom reversed an Irish whip and knocked Mike down with a shoulder tackle. He quickly covered Miz, who kicked out on one.
"What exactly did they want you to do?" Tom asked, while sending Mike into the ropes. This time he reversed the whip and knocked Tom down.
"Take you out. Make sure you wouldn't be able to interfere in their match with Matt and Jeff." Mike responded
"Okay. This might make it impossible for me to put you over!" Tom whispered while ducking a wild punch and setting the Miz up for an atomic drop.
"I know. " Mike replied "You don't have to..."
Out of nowhere, Tom reversed the atomic drop into the Insanity. Miz saw it coming, but he was unable to do anything before his chin met the mat. Tom jumped out of the ring and grabbed a chair. The fans started screaming for the Miz to get up when Tom rolled into the ring and lined up Mike's head with the gray instrument.
Tom arced the chair toward Mike, but just as it began it's descent, the referee grabbed it from his hands.
"What the fuck?" Tom looked at him like he could not believe what he'd just done.
"No chairs."
"Well fuck you." Tom hit the ref with the Insanity as well, then looked for the chair. It was gone. "What the..."
Mike had the chair and teed off on Tom's skull with it.
"Nice." Tom thought, even though he couldn't hear his own thoughts through the ringing in his ears. "I didn't think you swung like that."
Tom slowly got to his feet. Miz was waiting and it was time for a Reality Check. A secondary referee came down and counted one two three. While the count was being made, Miz said one word. "Thanks."
"Here is your winner... The Miz!"
Tom lay in the middle of the ring, letting the Miz play to the crowd. While the referee helped his striped compatriot back to the locker room, Tom's wheels spun, as was his head right then.
Giving a good show of taunting the Miz as he staggered back to the locker room, Tom immediately looked for a trainer.
"Tylenol?" He asked "Or something stronger if you have it?"
"Shot of JD?" The trainer laughed.
"I'm not Jeff." Tom groaned, feeling his head throb painfully. Miz had done a real good job with the chair. "On second thought..."
"Here." Two small white pills and a bottle of water were handed to Tom, who took them gratefully. He was also offered a cold towel, which was also accepted.
"Just relax for ten minutes." The trainer suggested "Let the bad man with the hammer go away."
Tom laughed. He now had an answer to one of life's nagging questions: 'Why did all the guys act like six year olds when they got hurt?' He now knew.
The lights dimmed slightly.
"Thanks." Tom adjusted the towel to cover his entire face and breathed deeply, already feeling the pills start to work. His headache was actually almost gone when someone else banged loudly on the door of the trainer's room, exacerbating it.
"Relax. I'll get it." It was Mike.
"Tommy in here?"
"Yes, but he's resting."
"It's okay, Doc." Tom sat up. "Most of the pain is gone."
"Walk ya back?" Mike offered
"What the hell. Thanks doc." Tom looked at Mike's goofy grin and went a little weak in the knees. "I'm cool." He added upon seeing the trainer's and Mike's expressions.
Tom and the Miz walked out of the trainer's room and toward the Aces locker room, but didn't make it right away.
"Someplace we can talk?" Mike asked
"Sure." Tom wondered what else could be bothering the former star of 'The Real World'.
Tom followed Mike back into his locker room. Just as they were going in, he caught a glimpse of Matt and Jeff heading to the ring for their TLC match against Evan and Jack. He nodded discreetly.
"Dude, I just wanted to thank you again." Mike wiped one of his sweaty palms on his pants and offered it to Tom.
"Just don't think the Aces are gonna let you off this easily." Tom laughed "This ain't the NWO... we ain't lettin' ya join us so we won't kick you ass any more."
Mike also laughed, then his expression went serious.
"I really do miss JoMo though." He sighed
"We all do. I wish they'd close the case soon so there could be some sort of closure." It was a total lie, but an acceptable one in Tom's opinion.
"Yeah." Something in the Miz's eyes told him all he needed to know.
"You two were together, weren't you?" Tom straddled a bench.
Not a sound, but the eyes again answered Tom.
Mike swallowed loudly. "Last thing we said to each other was we needed a break. Then I hear he's fuckin' your brother."
"That sums up their relationship." Visions of oral on a hotel room couch flashed dangerously through Tom's memory banks. "Dude, you know I had no fuckin' clue." Tom responded "If I had, maybe things wouldn't have gotten so..."
"Don't sweat it. We make our own choices." Mike looked like he wanted to say something else, but a loud banging on the door cut him off.
"You in there Miz."
"Oh fuck!" Evan's voice was quickly recognized by Tom.
"Here." Miz opened the door to his locker and Tom took a deep breath and squeezed himself in.
As soon as Tom was secure, although how secure he could be crammed into a small space with the Miz's gear was a topic best left for drunken binges.
"Good job, Miz." Evan said "You showed that fuckin' Hardy we're not fuckin' around."
Tyler nodded his approval.
"Liked the whole Morrison tribute thing. It really made the fans turn." He said
"Had to do something." Miz shrugged "I wasn't gonna let those four Asses get any more cred."
"Anyway, keep an eye on Tom while we take care of Matt and Jeff." Evan ordered
"Yessir." Miz saluted
In the locker, Tom was pissed. He had half a mind to kick the door open and take all three of them out, but Randy was more important.
He waited to hear the door click shut behind them.
"Sorry about..." Tom's fist meeting Miz's cheek cut off his apology.
"You fuckin' with me, Miz?" Tom shouted
"Tom, I..."
"Start explaining before you get a reality check." Tom pushed Mike against the wall.
"I had to!" he squealed "They threatened to tell the police that I had something to do with Morrison's death. They've been holding that over me for months!!!" Mike looked scared; whether it was of Tyler and Bourne or doing jail time, Tom didn't know and really didn't care. His hatred for Jack and Evan was growing exponentially by the day. "Please Tom? You're the only person who's given a shit about me recently..." Mike started blubbering.
Tom winced, his jaw tightening. "You're really that scared of those two jackmules?"
Mike nodded, wiping the back of his hand across his eyes and nose.
"Tell them I hit you."
"What?"
"Tell them I hit you." Tom repeated, strolling toward the door.
"Oh." Mike understood
Tom saluted then as inconspicuously as he could, crept back to the Aces' locker room. One glance at a monitor as he passed gave him all the information he needed. The TLC match had started.
"That gives me maybe fifteen, twenty minutes tops." Tom was still under the assumption that Randy was being held captive somewhere in the arena. It made sense, after all. Bourne and Tyler would want their prize someplace close so they could keep an eye on him.
"Time to snoop." Tom quickly slipped into something a little less Ace-like. A black WWE crew t-shirt was all he needed. Less chance arousing suspicion if he looked like he belonged.
While everyone else's focus was on the ring, Tom's was on the many packing crates stashed in the back. It was the only logical place Randy could be hidden if his assumptions were correct, and they usually were.
"Orton, you around here?" Tom shouted hoarsely.
Randy kept having this vivid dream that he had been kidnapped, beaten, and locked in a trunk at an arena. Every time he woke up, he realized that it wasn't a dream and that made him hurt more than the physical punishment he'd endured. Tyler and Bourne seemed to enjoy getting their rocks off by beating him every chance they got. This dream was different, however. He'd finally dreamed that someone was looking for him. His throat completely parched from lack of water, Bourne gave him a one liter bottle a day and that was it, it was all he could do to bang weakly on the lid of his prison.
As Tom went along, he banged on each crate, hoping for some signal that he was on the right path, but there were a lot of boxes and Randy could be in any one of them.
Maybe halfway through, Tom was interrupted. The match was over.
"Dammit! Randy, if you are here, I'm sorry!" Tom took off in the other direction.
...
"The winners of the TLC match... Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler!"
The crowd weren't the only people shocked by the outcome. Matt and Jeff had everything under control (or so they thought) until Matt and Jeff had tried to use their Event Omega finisher on Evan. They missed and Evan went air on Matt, diving off a ladder and splatting him through a table. From there, Jack held off Jeff while Evan made a leisurely cover, waving bye-bye to Jeff as the ref counted three.
"No!!!" Jeff screamed.
Evan and Jack left the ring, arm raised in victory. At the top of the stage, they turned and flipped the bird at the Hardys, the crowd, and everyone watching at home.
"Matty, you okay?" Jeff cared more about his brother's welfare than his opponents' showboating. He seemed shaken.
"I fucked up Jeffro. Now we'll never get Randy back."
Jeff knelt beside his brother. To his shock and horror, he saw that Matt was crying. Jeff's face contorted into a scowl and he clenched his fists in anger. No one made his Matty cry and got away with it.
"Aww..." Jeff heard a taunting voice from the stage. "Is poor Matty a little sad? WAH! WAH! WAH!" Bourne mimicked the crying that Matt was doing in the ring. "You guys are pathetic. I'm tempted to just tell you where Randy is so we don't have to put up with this anymore... but I'm not gonna."
Matt looked up, tears running down his cheeks in rivers. "Please." He mouthed
"Did you hear that? Please, he said." Bourne continued to taunt Matt and Jeff. "We won that match and as the stipulation, we don't have to say Jack. You want Randy back, you'll have to earn it..."
Evan's voice was cut off by the opening beats of "Go Insane". Their mouths both dropped open in an "o" when Tom appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, a chair in his hands.
"Hey. We said you couldn't interfere." Evan and Jack backed away.
"Last time I checked, the match was over." Tom waved the chair in their direction.
"So it was... we're outta here." Without turning their backs on Tom, Evan and Jack hurried backstage.
Torn between pursuit and taking care of Matt, Tom chose the latter for the simple reasons that it could be a setup; running after the two of them blindly was not the smartest option, as well as Matt looked like he needed both of them a lot more. Even while he jogged to the ring, Tom was thinking. He might need to call Eric and push their meeting forward.
"What?" Tom realized that Jeff had been staring at him.
"I know that look." Jeff replied "You're thinking about something big."
"Don't worry, Jeff. I got a plan." Tom smiled "And this one won't fail."
TBC
Sorry for the delay, but I got caught in a "Crossfire". Coming up next, the first-ever fanfic version of "Win the Shot, Call the Spot". (I think!)