Violets
"What the hell do you mean you lost them?" Tom bellowed
"Dude..."
"Don't 'dude' me! You're supposed to be an expert at search and recon. Just what the hell am I paying you for?" Tom looked over at the five other men, all snoring, and decided to step out into the hall to continue berating Eric. "If you can't handle this, let me know and I'll find someone who can!"
"It's not my fault they swapped cars." Eric replied, standing in the middle of the empty hotel room that had been rented to Bourne and Tyler. There was plenty of evidence to suggest that they had left recently: torn clothes scattered everywhere, empty beer bottles, wet towels in the bathroom, and so forth. Eric looked out the window at the car he'd tagged only hours ago, still parked exactly where he'd followed Evan to. "Whaddaya want me to do?"
"Stay there." Tom said "In case they return. If they aren't back by seven, meet us at the arena."
"Yes sir."
Tom walked back into the room, disgusted at the latest happening. He stepped over Ziggler, Miz, and Matt on his way to the bedroom.
"Fuck!" He jumped on the bed, waking up Jeff.
"Okay." Jeff rolled on top of him. "But aren't you a little sore after last night? I am."
"I didn't mean that, honey." Tom groaned. "I meant fuck as in 'what the fuck else could go wrong?'"
"Oh." Jeff rolled off, staring at the ceiling. "Ya wanna tell me?"
"Eric lost them. Of all the ex-Navy SEALs on this planet, I pick the one who probably gets confused in a round room." Tom answered
"Shit. Matty's gonna be sad." Jeff answered
"No he's not." Tom stated "'coz we're not gonna tell him."
"We're not? Why?" Jeff demanded
"Because Eric is going to meet us at the arena and we're going to come up with a new battle plan. If Matty asks anything, Eric's gonna do all the talking." Tom stroked his chin, then Jeff's. "And he better have some good answers."
Jeff cuddled up to Tom. "Imma tired still." He waved Bunny in Tom's face as if to demonstrate the importance of that little factoid.
"Okay sweetie." Tom shut off his phone. "Tuck in."
It was a little game they sometimes played when it was a cold night out. They would tuck the blankets into the sides of bed, then squirrel their way into a nice warm cocoon. With the blankets pulled tightly across their bodies, Tom and Jeff soon drifted off to dreamland just as the drunks in the next room were staggering to their feet.
...
It was no surprise that Tom and Jeff were the last of their coterie to arrive at the arena for RAW. It was just too darn snuggly for either of them to want to get out of bed before it was absolutely necessary. They didn't care who saw them, just as long as Tyler and Bourne were nowhere in sight. Their private locker room awaited them.
"Imma gonna find Matty." Jeff announced once he had changed into his gear.
"Cool." Tom had stretched out across one of the benches. "You know where to find me."
"Love you." A quick kiss and Jeff was gone.
Once the door was closed behind him, Tom began stripping out of his street clothes. He'd only gotten as far as his shoes when the familiar sound of a piece of paper being slid under the door distracted him.
"Wonder what I am doing tonight?" He thought aloud, recognizing it for what it was. Hobbling a little, he scanned the sheet. "Fuck." He moaned, "This ain't good."
...
In another part of the arena, Mark was being confronted.
"Listen, either you do what we ask or we tell the whole world about your relationship with that guy we saw you with."
Mark frowned. He'd been trying to keep his relationship with James, his new beau, secret from everyone so that it wouldn't get back to his ex-wife for leverage. Their split was anything but friendly and he knew that she would use anything she could to wrest away what little custody he had of their children. And if Sara found out that a one-night stand many years ago had actually produced a son, then he could just kiss it all goodbye.
"I don't have a problem with these guys... why are you doing this?" Mark wished James was beside him. He'd soon turn the situation around.
"Because we're calling the shots. We want them outta our business immediately."
"Well find someone else." Mark turned to walk away.
"I guess we also have to tell Linda that Mark's been bringing that guy around to the arenas her late-husband banned. I don't think she'll be too happy."
Mark cringed. How the fuck did they find out? I told James to be discreet about it. "If I do this, will you stop blackmailing me?"
"I knew you'd see things our way. Now do your promo like a good little Undertaker."
Mark sighed. When had love become so complicated?
...
Jeff had found Matt wandering the halls. Although he had seemed to forget his troubles during their fun of the previous night, it seemed that the moment wrestling came back into his life, so did his blah-ness.
"Jeffro, I swear that if I don't get Randy back soon, I am going to take matters into my own hands." Matt was barely containing his rage, and Jeff could sense this.
"Matty..." He was hesitant about even touching his brother, but the little voice inside Jeff's head kept telling him otherwise.
"Jeff, please. I know you're trying to help, but I really need to figure out a way on my own."
"...you can't do this by yourself. Tommy's waiting for us and Eric is supposed to be here tonight as well. If we can't find him by ourselves, then maybe we should call the cops..."
"No!" Matty shouted "We can't. They said they'd hurt Randy even more if we did!" The thought of Orton hurting was driving Matt to the brink of insanity.
"There you are." Shane had been seeking them out since a demand from Bourne and Tyler had been slammed on his desk earlier. "We need to talk. My office."
Jeff and Matt looked at each other, and realized that they were both thinking the same thing: whatever Shane had to say to them probably wasn't good.
...
"So what am I supposed to do?" Leaning against his motorcycle, Mark was conversing with James over the phone.
"Why the fuck you askin' me?" James responded gruffly.
"Because this concerns you too, Jackass!" Mark retorted "Or does what we have not matter to you?"
"Listen Calaway, it was your fuckin' idea not to tell anyone about us. As I recall, you just stood there while Vince read me the riot act and banned me for life from ever coming around."
"If only McMahon had meant his life instead o' yours."
"You shoulda fuckin' clarified that, shouldn't ya?" James barked "So what are you gonna do 'bout it, lover-boy?"
"If I knew, I sure as fuck wouldn't be asking for your advice!" Why do all of our conversations end up as either arguments, or rough sex, or arguments leading to rough sex?
"Mark, let me be the calm one for once. I don't know much about that business, but don't you usually work things out beforehand?"
"Your point, Lawson?"
"Fuck, you're dense. Work something out with him. Maybe you can make it look like you're really hurting the son of a bitch... why am I giving you career advice in the first place? I'm not your fuckin' occupational therapist!"
"Thanks for nothin'."
"I have no clue why you care for some of these people the way you do, but it would make sense to me to at least talk to the guy beforehand. Maybe if you finally trusted someone in that crazy world of yours?" Lawson sounded a lot calmer, which was eerie, even by Mark's standards.
"Maybe." Mark sighed "I'll figure some shit out."
"I'll see you tomorrow and you can give me all the gory details. Connor and Cooper say hi and to stop acting like such a pussy."
"Fuck!" Mark snapped his phone shut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" This is fuckin' bad no matter what I do. He went off to look for that night's opponent. Maybe James was right and he could make it look like he was seriously injuring this guy. Then again, James might also shit golden eggs.
...
Shane's news was not much better. Bourne and Tyler had demanded an unsanctioned match between Matt and Jeff for that evening's telecast. It was to be no DQ, but any outside interference from Tom would result in the match being forfeit.
"I'm really nervous about giving in to these guys." Shane said "Legal liabilities aside, I don't want to..."
"We'll do it." Matt interrupted, ignoring the stares he got from Jeff and McMahon.
"We will? Matty are you sure?"
"I don't care about getting Randy back right now. I just wanna make those two suffer." Matt pounded his fist into his palm.
"Just sign this and they're yours. It's a limited liability form. It basically means that..."
"...the company is not responsible for any injuries we suffer during this match." Matt finished, sounding a little bored. "We know the deal."
"Between the three of us, I wouldn't lose any sleep if those two could never wrestle again." Shane stated "But you two are money."
Matt smiled. "Understood." He left the office, a lopsided smile on his face, with Jeff tagging close behind.
"Matty... are you serious?" Jeff asked
"Jeffro, I don't know if I can trust Eric to do the job or not, but I'm not going to sit around and wait for results." Matt responded, squarely looking Jeff in the eyes. "Maybe we can convince Bourne and/or Tyler to tell us where he is."
"How are we gonna do that?" Jeff asked
"Leave the plotting to me, little brother. You just worry about winning our match."
Tom was in the exact same position that Jeff had left him. Lying on his back on a bench, his shoes kicked to one side. He hadn't bothered to change into his Aces' gear; it was hanging on a hook in one of the lockers.
"Show's gonna start, Tommy. Shouldn't you get ready?" Jeff asked
"Why? I'm doing sweet fuck all tonight. No match, no promo, no nothing." Tom crossed his arms over his eyes. "I don't even get a fuckin' shot at these assholes."
Jeff looked over at Matt with confusion evident. "How did you..."
"They slipped the run sheet under the door right after you left." Tom waved it in Jeff's face. "I read it three times and if you can find the name Tom Hardy on there someplace, I'll suck you off in the middle of the ring during tonight's show."
Jeff grabbed the sheet from Tom and read it several times. Tom and Matt heard something that sounded like "Damn!"
"Lemme take a look at that." Matt grabbed the sheet from Jeff and read it as well.
"Why do you care?" Tom was his usual grouchy self.
"I think Matty just wants to watch us get down and dirty in the ring." Jeff giggled
Tom shook his head, and was preparing a smart reply, when several raps on the door interrupted him.
"You expecting someone?" Jeff asked
"Eric, maybe?" Tom rolled off the bench and opened the door. It wasn't Eric, just a member of production.
"Here."
"What is that?" Jeff asked
"Damned if I... oh fuck!" Tom read it.
"What?" Matt asked
Tom slapped the sheet into his brother's hands, then strode to his locker, pulling his vest off in the process.
Matt quickly scanned it, his eyes bugging out of his head.
"What the hell? Are they kidding?"
"I don't think so." Tom flung his shirt into his locker and pulled on his ring shirt.
"Tommy? Matty? What's going on?" Jeff demanded
"Don't worry about it." Tom sat down and pulled up his trouser legs to put on his boots. "It's nothing big brother can't handle."
"If you say so, bro, but Mark?" Matt answered
Jeff turned white. "Why?"
"Same reason you two have a non-sanctioned match with Tyler and Bourne." Tom responded, putting on his leather jacket. "They want us out of the picture and both of them know that if I get into the ring with either Evan or Jack, they will be the one taken out of here on a stretcher. Now how they roped Mark into doing this is beyond me." He flung open his shades by one rim and put them on. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make it seem like Mark and I have a problem."
...
Mark was pacing backstage, waiting for the match in front of him to finish. If he'd been able to get in the ring immediately after finding out about his match, he probably would not have been as nervous as he was. His feelings only skyrocketed when his opponent came into his line of sight.
"Mark! Just the mother fucker I was looking for!" In his ring gear, Tom looked even more imposing.
"Tom, this wasn't my idea..."
"'Taker, you're on."
"We'll deal with this later." Mark stepped through the curtain.
Tom stared at the monitor, his skin starting to crawl. The equation of Mark plus hell-in-a-cell equals a lot of pain.
"Hardy?"
Tom turned. "Unless you're here to tell me that my match with Calaway is off, then I'm a little busy at the moment."
"There's some guy who says he's here to see you. Says his name's Eric."
Tom looked in the direction of the thumb. Eric was leaning against a wall, trying to look like he belonged.
"Take him to Matt and Jeff and tell him I'll be right there." Tom turned his focus back to the screen. He had to give Mark credit, he was trying to make it believable.
"...there's been a group o' guys running roughshod over the WWE in the past few weeks, claiming that there's no one who can stop them. Well, I may be on the Smackdown brand, but this is still my yard."
The fans cheered.
"Tonight, I take back my yard and I'm starting with the man who calls himself 'The future' of World Wrestling Entertainment. Hardy, get your Ace out here!"
Tom took one last look behind him, just in time to see Eric go into their locker room. His expression was totally unreadable.
Tom walked out, no pyro, no entrance music, just one very pissed-off Ace.
"I see that Teddy Long still can't control you and don't give me any of that 'death is uncontrollable' crap." Tom looked disgusted. "I don't know who sent you but it ain't gonna happen. I have no problem with you..."
"Well, I have one with you." Damn James and his huge cock!
"Someone put you up to this, didn't they?" When Mark didn't answer, Tom chuckled. "And I thought you were the big dog... I guess the big dog gets dragged around by his Johnson like everyone else in this damn company."
Mark stared at his shoes. If they only knew...
"Since you seem to have a problem with me, I guess we better settle this. And since apparently I have nothing better to do tonight, why don't I send the Big Dog to the pound." Tom lowered his glasses to half-mast and looked Mark up and down.
"My yard... my match." Mark shouted "Hell in a cell."
Tom tried to look shocked, but inwardly he was laughing. "Is that supposed to make me scared? Whooooo." Tom waved his fingers at Mark.
Just as Mark was about to respond, Shane McMahon showed up.
"When did I lose control of Raw?" He shook his head. "I am putting a stop to this right now. I'm already allowing an unsanctioned match later tonight between The Hardy Boyz and Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler, but I am not going to risk any more careers. If you wanna fight, take it to Smackdown! Let Teddy Long deal with this crap, 'coz I ain't gonna."
"I will see you there... bring your little cell, and bring your dead ass, because I am the future of the WWE and it's time for the Future to bury the past." Tom flicked his glasses back up and turned toward the curtain.
Mark rolled his eyes. "You may be the Future, but you will rest... in... peace!"
The fans cheered and while Mark did his thing in the ring, Tom walked backstage. Once he'd cleared the gorilla position, he ran back to the Aces' locker room.
"How about some fuckin' good news?" He slammed the door behind him.
Matt, Jeff, and Eric all looked up.
"Anyone?" Silence was not what Tom wanted. Not one to suffer from nerves, but he felt as if he'd just written his own death warrant. "Come on, people. Something?"
Eric looked up. "The only thing I can suggest right now is that you two drag this match out as long as you can. Tom and I will search this arena top to bottom. IF Randy is here someplace, we will find him."
Tom nodded.
"How can you be sure?" Matt asked "How can you people be so fuckin' sure?" He looked like he was going to cry.
"Matty, shhh..." Jeff pulled him into his arms.
"Matt is right, though. Nothing is certain right now. The only thing I can be certain of is my promise that the hurt will go away, one way or another." Eric looked like he wanted to console Matt himself.
"Matt and Jeff... five minutes."
"Good luck." Tom hugged both of them.
"You too." Matt whispered, suppressing a sniffle. "Find Randy, please." He whispered
Tom and Eric stared at each other once the Hardys had left.
"What the hell was that about?" Tom demanded
"What?"
"Don't feign innocent with me. I saw the way you were looking at Matt." Tom leaned against a locker and stared at him. "Should I be keeping an eye on you as well?"
Eric turned away and stared at the wall. "Tom, you wouldn't understand if I told you."
"Try me." Tom folded his arms.
"McMahon hired me to break up Matt and Randy. He bought me the house, everything."
Tom ruffled his hair wildly. "Vince is dead." He stated
"I ain't stupid. " Eric retorted "I made a mistake, okay. But it's not like I did anything."
"Only because Vince didn't give you the chance." Tom barked "Obviously he didn't trust you to get the job done, or that sex-crazed megalomaniac wouldn't have gone after my brother himself, and then who knows where we'd be right now."
Eric hung his head. "It's not my fault. He just started throwin' money at me."
"That I can believe." Tom answered "But you are on our side on this, right? I mean, I don't want you saying one thing, then just goin' through the motions just so you can get into my bro's pants."
"Trust me."
Famous last words.
...
"Ladies and gentlemen, the following match is unsanctioned by World Wrestling Entertainment. Currently in the ring, at a total combined weight of four hundred fourteen pounds, the team of Evan Bourne and Jack Tyler!"
Dressed in their streetwear, Evan and Jack looked ready to battle.
"Their opponents, representing the Four Aces, at a combined weight of four hundred fifty-two pounds, Matt and Jeff: the Hardys!"
"It looks like the Hardys came to fight." Michael Cole noted the chairs carried by both members of Team Xtreme.
"Wouldn't you? Bourne and Tyler may have bit off more than they wanted to with this one." Jerry Lawler answered "And with the only stipulation being the banning of Tom from ringside, this could very well turn into, pardon the expression, a slobber-knocker."
"We're gonna win this one Matty, don't worry." Jeff whispered in his brother's ear. "I promise ya."
Backstage, Tom and Eric were waiting for the match to begin when Matt's cell phone rang.
"Should I answer that?" Tom asked
"I would. Maybe it's Randy." Eric responded
Tom dug through the bag, hoping to find it before the ringing stopped. "Where the fuck is it?" He growled, delving through the contents and hoped Matt wouldn't have a problem with this. He finally found it, tucked under a pair of Hello Kitty underwear.
"Hello?" He yelled "Hello!"
"Hello?" The voice on the other end was very weak, but it was unmistakable. It was Orton. "Matty, is that you?"
"No, it's Tom?"
"Tommy? Help me, please."
"Randy, where are you? Are you at the arena?" Tom beckoned for Eric to come over. He put the phone between their ears so they could both hear the conversation.
"No. They hot-wired a car and just drove me somewhere. Then they locked me in the trunk. Please, help me!"
"Keep him talking." Eric whispered, reaching inside his jacket hanging on a chair. Tom looked at him, questioningly, but nodded when he saw what Eric was pulling out of one of the inside pockets: a mini tape recorder.
"Do you have any idea where you are?" Tom repeated
"No!" Randy shouted hoarsely. "Get me outta here."
Eric held out his hand for the phone.
"Randy, I'm gonna let you talk to a friend of mine." Tom handed the phone over.
"Hey, Randy... it's Eric Stryker." He pressed the record button when he started speaking.
"Hi." Randy replied
"We're gonna get you out of this. Do you know what kind of car they stole?"
"A red one?" Randy answered
"Make and model?"
"I think it was a Honda." Randy stated
"You think?" Eric replied
"It had an 'H' on the trunk."
"No idea as to the model?"
"No!"
"Okay, kid, just calm down!" Eric said "Do you remember anything about your surroundings before they locked you into the trunk?"
"Not a lot... they blindfolded me."
"Okay... stop talking for a second and listen... do you hear anything around you... anything that might help us find you.?"
Randy listened... the only sounds he heard were birds chirping, some engine noise, nothing that would be considered out of the ordinary.
"No... just nature, cars... wait! I hear something!"
"What?" Eric asked
"It's..." Randy's voice was drowned out by a burst of static, then the line went dead.
"Eric? Eric!" Randy shouted. There was no answer. He looked at the phone, then burst into tears. BATTERY DEAD appeared briefly on the screen, before it went blank. "No!" He curled up into a ball, sobbing for this nightmare to be over.
"Dammit!" Eric closed Matt's phone.
"Did you get anything?" Tom stopped pacing to ask.
"I dunno. Randy was just about to tell me something, then the line went dead." Eric rewound the tape and replayed the last few seconds of the conversation. "..something. It's..." then the connection cut.
"Replay that last sound again." Tom asked
"Sounded like static to me." Eric replied "But here you go."
Tom replayed the noise several times, his head to the side to listen more closely.
"Well?" Eric asked
"That's not static, man. That's an airplane." Tom answered, replaying it one last time.
Eric nodded his agreement. "The airport is only five minutes away."
"Let's go." Tom grabbed his jacket, Eric also grabbed his.
...
In the ring, the unsanctioned match was well under way. Unsanctioned was basically a quick way of saying there were no rules, no referee, and no limitation to what damage could be done. Matt had faced off against Evan, Jeff against his former boyfriend, and both were battling back and forth. Jeff occasionally glanced at Matt to make sure that he was doing alright and not letting his anger toward the two goad him into making a stupid, and potentially career-ending, mistake.
Jeff whipped Jack into the corner and ran in after him, crushing him with a clothesline at full speed. Jeff's own momentum carried him over the top rope, but he quickly climbed up the turnbuckles and landed on Jack with a flying leg drop. Matt, meanwhile was trying something much simpler. He was choking Evan into unconsciousness with the handle of a broom he'd found under the ring.
"When they said unsanctioned, they meant it!" Jerry Lawler shouted from the commentators' table.
"Classic Aces maneuvers." Cole responded
The match had been going in the Hardys' favor since the opening bell, and looked to be continuing in that form until the arena suddenly went dark.
Jeff was punching Jack in the face and had no intention of stopping. When the lights came back on, he was suddenly facing a handicap situation when he realized that Tyler was not his only opponent in the ring. The lights going out had served their purpose. In the darkness, Evan had been able to gain the upper hand on Matt by kicking him in the balls, then spearing him into the ring steps with enough force to knock the wind out of him.
Jeff turned around, and was kicked right in the gut, knocking the wind out of him as well. Evan pulled hm to his feet and tucked his head between his own legs, while signaling for Jack to climb the ropes.
"Spike!" Jeff heard Evan shout and braced himself for a bad landing.
Jack jumped, and they spike piledrove Jeff... right onto a steel chair.
"Oh that wasn't too bad." Jeff thought, once the ringing in his head died down. Then he tried to move his arms and legs and couldn't.
"Matty!" he screamed "Imma can't feel anythin'."
Jack and Evan stood over him, lazily kicking his body, laughing at the way it moved around until Matt jumped back into the ring, a chair in his hands, and started swinging it crazily at both of them.
Laughing all the way up the ramp, they watched Matt crawl over to his brother.
"Jeffro. I'm here." Matt whispered.
"Matty." Jeff looked at his brother, fear in his eyes. "I can't feel my arms and legs."
Matt looked around at the crowd, most of them silent but some were cheering. He screamed. "Somebody help me, please!"
TBC
Evan and Jack are up two, while the Aces are down two (members)... with Tom running around with Eric, how will Matt be able to cope? You will be surprised!