Seaweed
"Can you feel me poke you?"
Jeff scrunched his face, anticipating a stab. "Hurry up. Imma wanna go!"
Matt looked at the doctor. "Jeff, I've poked you seven times since I asked the question. Are you sure that you didn't feel any of them?"
Jeff raised his head, staring at both his brother and the surgeon. "N-n-no." His lower lip trembled and he bit on his lip ring, fighting back tears.
"Shhhh, Jeffro. It's probably just a stinger." Matt took Jeff's hand and squeezed it.
"Where's Tommy?" Jeff asked, giving up the battle against crying.
"I dunno, bro." Matt sighed "Our locker room was empty when I got back. He and Eric must've gone somewhere. I can call him."
"Please? I don't wanna be by myself."
"You're not."
"Tommy!" Jeff squealed, trying to hold his arms up for a hug. "Damn!" He shouted when he realized he couldn't feel his arms.
"What the fuck happened?" Tom demanded
"Those assholes gave Jeff a spike piledriver onto a chair." Matt flexed his fingers, cracking his knuckles loudly.
"And what the hell were you doing while this was going on?" Tom demanded
"Me? I was unconscious beside the ring." Matt pointed to a nice bruise on his forehead.
"That's not my fuckin' problem. I just spent the last six hours trying to find a specific red Honda amongst ten thousand cars in an airport parking garage while trying not to be seen by Bourne and Tyler. Eric is still there, Lord knows why. They're probably halfway across the state by now." Tom answered
"Please don't fight." Jeff replied
"We're not fighting. We're having a discussion." Tom answered
"Sounded like a fight to me." Jeff sulked
"Jeffro, relax." Tom brushed some of the loose hair aside and kissed Jeff on the forehead. "We're all under a lot of stress right now."
"At least you can feel your hands." Jeff replied "How am I gonna jerk off?"
Matt looked at Tom, who smiled. "I'm sure we'll find a way. I hear Shane really enjoyed the other night." He replied
Jeff slapped Matt. It wasn't much of a slap, but it surprised both of them. Matt for being slapped and Jeff for actually being able to slap him.
"Jeffro...?" Matt blinked twice.
Jeff raised his hand in front of his face and stared at it, slowly spreading his fingers.
"It seems the paralysis was temporary. Like I said it might be."
"I guess that's medi-speak for I told you so." Tom smiled
"The x-rays, doc."
"Thank-you nurse." The doctor put Jeff's films up and stared at them.
"That's what the inside of an enigma looks like?" Tom looked over. "Looks pretty much human to me."
"Pretty much... hmmm." The doctor frowned.
"Hmmm?" Tom asked
"You know anything about anatomy?" The doctor asked
"Only so far as to the correct number of arms, legs, and heads I'm supposed to have... two of each." Tom replied
"Well, I have good news and bad news." The doctor pointed to several opaque spots on the film. "The good news is that the paralysis was indeed temporary. The bad news is this."
"The stinger?"
"It's a little more severe than that. He has two herniated disks in his neck."
"So?" Tom asked
"So? Given Jeff's current state, his occupation, his history of drug abuse, and several other factors, I am telling you that he should seriously consider not wrestling ever again."
"What?" Tom, Matt, and Jeff said at the same time.
"Matty, what does he mean I should consider never wrestling again?" Jeff asked "I can move my arms and legs, see?"
"Mr. Hardy, I am just giving you the facts."
"I'm telling you I'm fine. Matty, Tommy, tell him." Jeff wailed
"Jeff! Listen to the doctor." Tom barked
Jeff shrunk back, against Matt, and away from Tom's voice.
"Matty. Tommy yelled at me. Imma don't like that." Jeff whimpered
"I'm sure Tommy didn't mean it... did you?" Matt glared at his brother, while rubbing Jeff's shoulder softly.
"Of course I didn't." Tom stated "Jeff, you just need to listen to the doctor before you start acting up."
"Mr. Hardy. You have two herniated disks in your neck... C3 and C4. This paralysis was temporary and while I see you have regained feeling in your extremities, I am telling you that one more fall, one more bad bump, even one slight error in a landing and you'll be a quadriplegic. If you have any other career options, I would consider that you start looking into them."
"Matty, he's scaring me. I want my Bunny!" Jeff his his face in the folds of Matt's shirt. Matt gently stroked his hair, whispering soft words to him.
"What does that make it... three to nothing for them?" Tom sighed
"Something like that." Matt responded
"We got one shot at evening this mess up." Tom stared into his brother's emerald eyes. "I'll see you both at the show tomorrow."
"Tommy, where're you goin'?" Jeff screeched.
"I have to meet Eric." Tom answered "I expect to see the two of you at the match. Understood?"
Jeff nodded. Matt looked at Tom, with a feeling that his older brother wasn't being truthful.
...
"Pull down this path." Evan shouted
"Here?" Jack asked "It's two a.m. and we're in the middle of nowhere..."
"I am quite aware of the time and the place. Now just do it and then take a walk."
Jack understood. Evan had been really antsy about something since his return to their last hotel room. They'd changed cars three times since then, and were now driving a black Subaru Forester, also stolen.
"That guy we saw at the airport... same guy I saw at the traffic tie up." Evan stated
"You sure?" Jack had been paying more attention to Randy than Evan, obviously.
"Positive. Looks like the Hardys are smarter than we gave them credit for."
"It could be a coincidence."
"Could be." Evan answered "But I don't believe in coincidences... park here."
"How long?" Jack asked, turning off the engine.
"Twenty minutes. Do what I tell ya and I may save a little piece of our prisoner for you."
Jack understood. They'd been too anxious to split, so Evan hadn't made good on his plans for Orton, who was in the backseat, shackled and gagged.
"You're the boss." Tyler laughed, trotting down the path back toward the highway.
"That I am." Evan climbed into the backseat and stared at Randy. "So young, so good-looking... too bad you hooked up with the wrong family." He grabbed Randy's legs and with a yank, he was flat on his back across the seat.
Randy's eyes opened wide. He wanted to scream, but the electrical tape across his mouth stifled any sound.
"Just be glad I waited this long to have you."
A solitary tear trickled down Randy's cheek.
...
Matt and Jeff, both in shock over Jeff's career being put on hold, tried to enjoy a sit-down dinner for once, but Jeff refused to sit still. He paced their hotel room back and forth, the pizza they'd ordered forgotten on the table.
"I'll show them." Jeff pouted "If I wanna wrestle, then Imma gonna wrestle and there's nothing anyone can say 'bout it."
"Jeffro, can you please just calm down for a moment." The constant movement was driving Matt batty. "He didn't say you wouldn't, he just said you shouldn't."
"Whatever, man." Jeff retorted "This ain't about me anyway. This is about you gettin' Randy back and I don't care if I do end up paralyzed, or crippled, or what the fuck ever, Imma not lettin' you down."
Matt was touched by Jeff's words, even if they were a little over the top.
"You've never let me down." Matt smiled brightly. "Though there are other people involved in this. You've got a husband who loves you very much..."
"I know..." Jeff interrupted
"Let me finish." Matt held up a hand to cut Jeff off. "But do you think it's fair to ask him to throw down everything in his career that he's worked damn hard for because he has to take care of you twenty-four seven if something goes wrong... I don't."
"Matty, I can take care of myself. You don't hafta worry no more."
"Don't hafta worry no more? Jeff, my boyfriend is missing, you're putting your life into your hands, and Tom has a hell in a cell match with Mark tomorrow night!" Matt shouted "What do you mean I don't hafta worry?... Fuckin' A I do!"
Jeff jumped back, a little stung by Matt's words. "Matty, please..." His lower lip started to quiver.
Matt exhaled softly. He was used to having to put things into perspective, but making Jeff cry made him feel about six inches tall.
"Jeff, just promise me you'll take it easy for a while. At least until this thing blows off!" Matt begged. "I don't think I can take any more drama in my life."
"Okay, big brother, I promise." Jeff said
"Thank-you." Matt rose and embraced him. "Now eat your pizza before it gets cold."
...
Tom lit a cigarette, having to cup his lighter against the brisk fall wind. Why Eric didn't pick some place a little warmer to have this chat was a question Tom would like to have an answer to and the sooner the better. His fingers were starting to numb with the cold.
"Glad you could make it."
"Yeah, I made it, but why am I freezing my ass off doing it?" Tom demanded
"Follow me." Eric led Tom toward a door at the back of the alley. Looking confused, and a little hesitant, he followed.
"Where are we going? I hope it's someplace warm." Tom shivered, scrunching himself inside his jacket.
"Trust me." Eric opened the door and a friendly warmth flooded the alley.
What the hell am I getting myself into this week?
"It's okay... I live here when I'm trying to stay incognito." Eric explained
"Whatever." If it would warm him up, Tom would gladly follow him to hell. Sparsely furnished, but it was a lot warmer than the outside.
"Grab a seat. I'll be right back."
Tom plopped on the couch, stretching his legs out to warm them up. Eric soon reappeared with a large folder and two bottles of beer.
"I'm sorry that I haven't been as forthcoming with information, but most of what I need to tell you, I'd rather not do it in front of your brother." Eric dropped the folder onto the table and stuck a video tape into an ancient-looking video cassette recorder.
"It's that bad?" Tom asked
"The really bad part is that I think they're on to me, so I have to keep an even lower profile right now." Eric leaned back, capping his beer. Tom also opened his, but didn't drink right away.
"Do I need to get someone else to finish the job?"
"Not yet. I'll let you know if we're compromised to that point, but if I stay away until after your match tomorrow night, we should be okay." Eric replied
"How did you know about that?" Tom asked
"I have about sixty hours of recorded conversations." Eric answered "I would have a lot more, but it's been a real chore keepin' up with their ever-changing cars. It's a good fuckin' thing you've haven't been on any big tours lately."
"Europe's coming up soon." Tom finally took a sip of his beer.
"I know." Eric said "But right now, we need to focus on tomorrow and your match."
"Why?"
"Watch." Eric started the tape. Tom watched as two big men came onto the screen. One was Mark, the other one he didn't recognize.
"James Lawson." Eric answered Tom's unspoken question. "He and Mark have been breathing heavily with each other since they were kids, but it's finally serious. Bourne and Tyler are using this to blackmail Mark into doing their bidding..."
"Which is what... take me out?" Tom interrupted yet again.
"Pretty much. You know about the divorce, right?"
"Who doesn't?" Tom asked. Mark was a very private person when it came to his personal life, but he'd confided in Glenn, and that was like telling the entire locker room.
"Well, apparently it's not going so well, custody-wise, and Mark's afraid that if this gets out, any chance of seein' his kids will go up in smoke." Eric fast-forwarded the tape, then stopped it.
"Next... I tracked them as far as Springfield, then I was spotted." Tom was handed several photos of Evan, Jack, and Randy going in and out of several hotels, restaurants, and so on. "Thankfully, I was able to continue the surveillance from a distance. Unfortunately, it's audio only, but you'll get the point."
... hooked up with wrong family.... just be glad I waited this long to have you." Tom heard something that sounded like muffled screams, followed by the sound of a zipper being opened.
"Turn it off." Tom barked
Eric nodded. "Sorry, man, but I had to."
"This is all fine and good, but where are they now?"
"On their way to the arena. I guess Bourne figured that it would be a lot less suspicious if they drove to the event." Eric shrugged
"Are you sure they are going to be at the show?" Tom asked
"Positive. I taped Bourne and Tyler talking about it. They wanna make sure that Mark does what they tell him to." Eric stated "Which is also going to be their downfall... you have to get to Mark before the match and maybe suggest to him that he have Bourne and Tyler at ringside while I do some snooping backstage."
Tom nodded. Hell in a cell was a perfect cover for that. He made a note to have some handcuffs handy in case they got a little too close. "Anything else I need to worry about?"
"Surviving the match. Mark has more to lose than you do and he's that desperate right now." Eric replied
Tom nodded.
"And don't come looking for me tomorrow. If anything changes, I will find you." Eric added
"You got it." Tom rose, buttoning his jacket tightly to go back into the night air. "I won't see ya later."
...
After many long hours with James, Mark had come to one inescapable conclusion... he had to go through with it. There was no way around it. James' idea was to refuse to do it, but that was easy for him to say. The mother of his children was dead and no one in their right mind would want to look after his two boys. Although mature enough to be on their own, they acted like petulant children half the time and psychotic inmates the other half.
He pulled up to the arena for that night's match about six hours early and watched the production crew begin to assemble the hell in a cell cage. Laying claim to one of the biggest locker rooms, he got out his gear and waited for the inevitable to occur. Eventually, his mind wandered and he lay down on a bench for a quick nap.
...
Tom was only suffering from a mild case of frostbite when he returned to the hotel.
"God, if this is November, then I am going to move to Florida." He groaned, blowing on his hands for warmth. Maybe if he could wrap them around a nice warm Enigma...? Nope. Jeff and Matt were both asleep in one of the beds.
Tom frowned. Not because of Jeff and Matt being all cozy, but because Matt had his precious Lizard in his grasp! That was unforgivable!
"Oh well... Matty needs some lovin' too I guess." Tom kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the other bed. A little bit of sleep was in order before his match, but his overtaxed brain wouldn't shut off enough to let him do it.
"Well, this is pointless." After an hour, Tom gave up. He scribbled a quick note, then redressed and drove to the arena. If he could get Mark alone, maybe they could find a way to turn the tables on Evan and Jack before either of them got hurt real bad.
"You're here early." Leave it to Shane Helms to state the obvious.
"So are you." Tom retorted "My show isn't for four hours, so you're even earlier than I am."
"Production meeting for ECW." Helms replied
"Oh." Tom answered "How's the headaches?"
"Not bad." Shane answered
"You getting back into the ring any time soon?" Tom asked, not breaking kayfabe in case some one was listening who shouldn't.
"Maybe." Shane winked
"Cool... I can't wait to see it... they should work you with that Hurricane guy I've seen. You'd make a good team."
"I'll suggest that." Shane chuckled
"If there's anything left of me after tonight, maybe you'd be interested in joining the three of us for a meal."
"Sure... Mark's already here. He doesn't look like he wants this match any more than you do."
"His idea." Tom shrugged "Maybe he's afraid that I'll go insane on his ass and the Big Dog will need to be put down." Tom didn't know what Matt had told Shane, if anything, about their current situation, so he just continued to keep up storyline appearances.
"Whatever, just be careful out there. ' Don't wanna see any more Hardys taken out of here like last time."
"I'll drink to that. Laterz." It wasn't hard to find Mark's dressing room. The Deadman had a knack for grabbing the biggest changing room and, unless he was tagging with Glenn, then nobody was dumb enough to try to suggest that he find a smaller room.
Tom did not fear the Undertaker, or Mark Calaway for that matter. If you could get past the surface, Mark could be a generally nice guy, just don't wake him up from his nap. A cranky Marky is not something pleasant to deal with, but that is exactly what happened when Tom boldly banged on the door.
No answer, so Tom banged louder. This time he heard what sounded like a piece of furniture hit the floor, followed by several choice swear words. The door was thrown back and Tom was face-to-face with the previously avoidable cranky Undertaker.
"What the fuck do you want, asshole?" Mark yelled "I was tryin' to take a fuckin' nap before I beat the everloving piss out of your sorry ass!"
"Don't they teach anatomy where you're from. Last time I checked, I don't piss outta me ass."
Tom and Mark stared at each other heatedly. "Well?" Mark finally broke the staredown.
"Well, what?" Tom asked
"You gonna answer my question?"
"There was a question in that tirade... what was it?"
"What the fuck do you want, asshole?" Mark repeated himself.
"Oh, that question. I thought since we had some time, we could go over our match tonight." Tom leaned against the door frame, wondering if Mark was going to let him in, or they were going to spend the next four-plus hours yelling at each other. Either way, it didn't matter to Tom.
"Whatever." Mark replied. "We got time. Come back in an hour or two."
"An hour or two? You know how bad I am at remembering spots, right?" Tom scanned the hallway. If either Tyler or Bourne happened by, Tom might as well slit his throat right there.
"Right now, our match is bottom on my list of priorities." Mark pushed Tom back a few steps and tried to close his door.
"I know." Tom sighed, inserting his body between the door and the jam.
"You know what?" Mark stopped trying to shut Tom out, even though the eldest Hardy's position made it impossible to begin with.
"I know more than you think." With a thrust of his elbow, Tom barreled into Mark's locker room. "Now shut that damn door so we can talk!"
To Tom's surprise, Mark obeyed.
"Mark, we are not friends, nor will we ever be, but I will not stand idle while someone is forced into something against their will..."
"You don't know what the hell you're talking about!" Mark shouted
"I know about you, and that guy you're fucking..."
"You know about James?"
"I know enough. He's a little creepy and I'll be damned if I ever send him a Christmas card, but it seems that you're willing to bow to Bourne and Tyler." Tom expected one of two things... either Mark was going to say nothing or throw him into a wall. He did not expect Mark to collapse into a chair with his head in his hands.
"Fuckers are threatening to tell Sara about James." Mark finally admitted. "If she finds out I've been sleepin' around with anyone, especially a fuckin' dude, then any chance of ever seein' my kids again is shot to shit."
"So your agreement is what exactly?" Tom queried
"I'm s'posed to injure ya. Badly." Mark looked totally helpless.
"Badly, huh?" Like there's ever a good way to injure someone. While running his fingers through his rapidly graying hair, Tom did some serious thinking. When Mark felt threatened, shit happened.
"What's to stop them from telling Sara anyway even if you do manage to hurt me?" Tom asked "Don't say you're taking their word for it..."
The look Mark gave him led Tom to believe that was exactly what was going on.
"You know that if you hurt me even a little bit, Matt and Jeff will be on you so hard you'll be lucky if you escape with your balls intact." Tom retorted
"After what they did last week? Bourne told me that Jeff would never step foot in an arena again."
"Lyin' sack of shit." Tom spat on the floor. "Jeff won't wrestle for a while, but he's here and so it Matt. They still like you, but that ain't gonna stop them from protecting me, and given Matt's emotions right now..."
Mark nodded, not needed the sentence to be concluded. He'd seen Matt's rage in the past. "I'm thinkin' you got a way outta this or you wouldn't be standin' here."
"Maybe I do, or maybe I'm just here to tell you that I'm gonna tear your head up and shove up so far up yer ass, you'll see shit from now on!"
"You gonna leave me hangin' just like that?" Mark demanded
"I'll see you in the ring. Just do what you have to do."
Leaving a slack-jawed Undertaker in his wake, Tom returned to his locker room. Matt and Jeff were already there waiting.
"Got my message, I see."
"Yeah. I don't mind telling you, I'm a little scared, bro."
"Me too." Jeff agreed "I got a plan, though."
"You do?" Tom asked
"Yeah. Matty, you go tell Marky not to hurt Tommy or else!" Jeff replied
"Or else what?"
"Or else... I haven't come up with that part yet." Jeff answered
"Nice try, little brother, but I don't think Mark's gonna fall for an 'or else' unless we have an 'or else' to give him." Matt patted Jeff's head.
"Better 'n anythin' you two have come up with lately." Jeff sulked
"I have everything under control, don't you worry your pretty little head. " Tom raised Jeff's chin and kissed his forehead. "I'm going to have a little nap. Wake me up at the five minute warning."
"Five minute warning! You still hafta change and do your hair and warm-up!" Jeff protested
"You sure that's enough time?" Matt asked, agreeing with one of the few times Jeff had a point.
"Yeah it is. Tonight, I am not going out there to kick the Undertaker's ass as a member of the Four Aces. This is so far beyond storylines right now. I am going out there to kick the Undertaker's ass... as your brother."
Tom curled up on the floor, his breathing slow and even as he dipped into sleep.
"What the hell did he mean by that?" Jeff whispered
"I dunno." Matt shook his head, resigning himself to another bout of drama involving his brothers. "I've given up trying to figure out what goes through Tom's mind sometimes. It just ends up giving me a headache."
Across the arena, Mark was being confronted by Evan.
"Remember our agreement!" After being stripped naked on an episode of Tom Hardy-controlled ECW, Evan cherished having Mark at his beck and call.
"How can I forget? You remind me every ten minutes!" Mark growled
"Just making sure you know your role." Evan retorted
I'm dealing with a Rocky-wannabe... great! If only James hadn't been so stupid to get himself barred from the arenas, I wouldn't hafta deal with this motherfucker!
"I know what I have to do... don't worry!"
"We're not worried." Evan responded "Just a little concerned that..."
"If you're so Goddamned concerned, why aren't you and your crony doing this?" Mark bellowed, dangerously close to his breaking point.
"We pay the money, you carry the luggage. Don't fret your dead ass thought, Jack and I will be at ringside to make sure you do exactly what you're told." Evan said "See you there."
Mark punched the wall in frustration as soon as Evan was out of sight. This is bad. This is real fuckin' bad.
...
"Five minutes."
Tom's eyes opened as soon as he heard the words through the door. He tucked in his polo shirt and zipped up his vest. "That's my cue."
"Tommy, please don't do this!" Jeff begged "Marky'll hurt ya or worse!"
"Honey, please don't worry." Tom cradled Jeff's chin with his thumb and index finger. "I'll take care of it. Now promise me you'll stay here with Matt, okay."
"Imma come with you, please?" Jeff pleaded, like Tom was his mother leaving him on the first day of Kindergarten.
"It's hell in a cell. I can do whatever's necessary if Mark gets outta line." And Mark's gonna do everything he can to hurt me. "Just behave for Matty and I'll be back soon. I promised Hurricane we'd all go out after the match for dinner, so I have to be in one piece."
One quick kiss on the lips and Tom was out the door. His plan was to linger by catering until Mark was in the ring, then attack.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now time for the main event. This contest is a hell in a cell match scheduled for one fall. Introducing first..."
TBC