Daisies
The next words out of Tony Chimel's mouth made Tom's blood run cold and his eyes bug out.
"...the special guest referee... Evan Bourne!"
Looking totally ridiculous in a striped referee's shirt and his wrestling trunks, Evan ran down to the ring.
"And the special guest enforcer... Jack Tyler!"
It was appropriate that Tom was up against the Undertaker, because he felt like he was facing a firing squad with Evan and Jack being added to the match.
"Introducing first, from Death Valley, weighing two hundred ninety-seven pounds, the Undertaker!"
The lights dimmed as Mark walked down the aisle.
Backstage, the nervousness that Tom had hidden for the past twenty-four plus hours was finally coming to the surface. This is bullshit.
"You need backup? I can go grab Matt and Jeff."
"I'm not worried." Tom hated lying, especially to Helms.
"The fuck you're not. I can see right through you. Then let me come down with you."
"Things are screwed up enough without you getting involved." Tom ran his hands through his hair, messing it nicely. "Go watch the match with Matt and my husband and keep them company. Don't worry about it... I got everything under control."
"Liar." Shane stated, but did go back to keep the Hardys company.
In the ring, Mark was going through his pre-match ritual of removing his jacket, staring at Evan and Jack the entire time. Both men seemed to be extremely confident about the outcome of this contest.
"And his opponent..."
"Eric, this better be worth it." Tom bounced from foot to foot while he waited to be introduced.
"...representing the Four Aces, from Los Angeles California, weighing two hundred fourty-one pounds... Tom Baker!"
In his street wear, Tom appeared a little less imposing that when he wore the black leather of the Aces, but a look of determination was still etched on his face. Jimmy-legging it up the steps, he ignored Evan and Jack and strode up to Mark the second he was in the ring.
"This your fuckin' idea?" He yelled, pointing at the smirking Evan and Jack.
"I had nothin' to do with that shit." Mark replied, raising his arms in a "what-you-gonna-do-about-it" pose.
The bell rang to get things started. Tom took off his sunglasses, but that was it.
"You're goin' down, Deadman!"
"Whatever." Mark sounded really bored with the entire mess he was stuck in the middle of. Maybe if he could get the match over with quickly, he could rid himself of everyone. He easily blocked Tom's first punch and spun him around with a right hand of his own.
"That's the way you're gonna play, is it?" Tom bounced off the ropes, clotheslining Mark, who didn't even move; instead, he glared at Tom who did it again and got the same lack of response from Mark. Either the Deadman wasn't feeling anything from his strikes, or he'd decided not to sell for Tom this match.
The third time, Tom went for a clothesline, Mark countered it by ducking underneath and, when Tom turned around, locked him in the goozle.
"I would suggest you stay down if you know what's good for you." Mark whispered, before slamming Hardy to the mat. He attempted to pin Tom, but Evan refused to count the fall.
"You ain't getting out of it that easily. I told you to hurt him." Evan whispered in Mark's ear.
Tom heard this exchange. I guess it's time to fight back before I become another statistic. Mark pulled Tom to his feet, mouthing the words "I'm sorry" before inverting Tom and tombstone piledriving him into the canvas. Again he covered the almost unconscious Hardy and again Evan refused to make a count.
"What the fuck more do you want?" Mark shouted at Evan, who shrugged like he was just a regular referee. "You really want me to do this... fine!" He whipped Tom into the corner, followed him in, and avalanched him.
"You happy now?" Mark shouted, tossing Tom outside the ring, where Tyler was waiting. Totally unnecessary, but Tyler insisted on kicking Tom in the ribs while Evan chose to continue his discussion with Mark inside the ring, a fact pointed out by the announcing team. To add insult to injury, Tyler rolled him back inside the ring where Evan decided to start calling the shots.
"Tombstone him again!" He told Mark.
"But..." Tom was clearly in no condition to continue the match, but Mark was sure that Evan would've refused to make the count had he tried to cover him again.
"I said do it!" Evan poked Mark in the chest.
"I have just about had enough of this! You wanna tell my wife, go right the fuck ahead!"
Evan's eyes bugged out when Mark wrapped his hand around his throat and squeezed. Evan soon was on his back on the mat and there was nothing staged about that move. Mark put every ounce of his considerable strength into the move and Evan was unconscious in the middle of the ring.
Glaring at Tyler, Mark stepped over the top rope and began to stalk the match's "enforcer". Tyler continued to back up, pleading for Mark not to hurt him, until he backed into something solid. He turned, and there was Tom, grinning like a madman.
"You bet the wrong horse." Tom punched Tyler, who staggered back... right into Mark's waiting arms. Another choke slam and Tyler was likewise out cold on the mats outside the ring.
"Thanks, Mark." Tom whispered
"How long do you need to find Orton?" Mark whispered
"Twenty minutes?" Tom replied
"Fine." Mark grabbed a microphone. "Now that that bullcrap is finished, I'm gonna finish you the right way. Get me a real referee!"
Scott Armstrong ran down to ringside, accompanied by several backstage crew. While they tended to Evan and Jack, the match was restarted.
Despite being on the receiving end of both the chokeslam and the tombstone, Tom was still in pretty good shape for the restart. Tom flung his vest aside, the zipper already busted, and ripped open his button-down shirt.
Mark rolled his eyes, tuning out the squeals from the fans. Yes, Tom was openly gay, but the ladies still seemed to get wet whenever he showed off his chiseled torso.
It was like the previous 'match' had never occurred the way Tom bounced around the ring. Mark lunged at him, but Tom sidestepped and all Mark got was an armful of air.
Mark tried again, but Tom was just one step ahead... it looked like this would turn into a very interesting competition.
...
The unconscious forms of Jack and Evan were wheeled into the trainers' room for treatment. The second the door closed, two large forms barricaded themselves in front to it, preventing anyone from getting in, but more importantly preventing either Jack or Evan from escaping out.
"They ain't gettin' past us." Glenn said in a low voice.
"I'd like to see them try." Adam stated
"I'm sure you would." Glenn smiled. He'd personally recruited Adam for this job right after Mark choke slammed Evan. "But all we gotta do is keep them occupied." He knew very little about the situation other than what Mark had told him, but enough to know where his "brother" needed him the most.
"You still haven't told me exactly why we're doing this." Adam scratched his back against the door frame and let out a contented sigh when he hit the itch he could never reach.
"If I tell you, you'll keep your mouth shut?" Glenn demanded
Adam nodded and mimed a zipper across his lips.
"Evan and Jack blackmailed Marky into doing their dirty work. You know about how messy his divorce is, right?" The way Glenn glared at Adam indicated that he should just agree, whether or not he knew being irrelevant, so he wouldn't have to say anything more.
Adam nodded, swallowing nervously.
"Accordin' to my bro, they got some photos of him with this Lawson guy Mark's been seein'... real incriminatin' shit, and it would be goin' to Sara Express-post if Mark refused to do what they told him."
"Which was what... beat up Tom?"
"And anyone else who got in the way." Glenn didn't mention Eric by name, but he knew.
"I didn't realize how much of a jealous asshole Evan could be. But he broke up with Tom first, didn't he?"
"I dunno what went on. Y'know Tom, he doesn't talk much 'bout his personal shit." Glenn shrugged, listening at the door for any sounds that they might be needed to stop an egress.
At least not to people he doesn't trust. Adam thought about saying that out loud, but he quickly quashed that idea. Tom was great at helping people he cared about, Just ask the Miz, Jay, or Matt and Jeff, but him asking for help was rare. It had taken a lot of beer one night before Tom was able to put his own guilty feelings about Jeff's pseduo-rape behind him, but Adam had been the one to finally get through to him.
A couple loud bangs from inside turned both their attentions to the door.
"Looks like someone woke up." It was scary to see Glenn smile, but the Big Red Monster was actually hoping that the door would open. No one fucks with my Mark and gets away with it.
...
"Randy!" Matt shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls in the bowels of the arena.
"Orton, can you hear me?" Eric was a few steps ahead, and every so often he'd stop to either bang on a crate or listen for a reply to their calls.
"Please, Randy, answer me." Matt was on the verge of tears, and he didn't care if Eric saw.
"Keep it together Matt. We'll find him." The moment Tom had stepped through the curtain, Matt had left his sleeping brother in their locker room to start his own search. The only person he'd found was Eric, or had Eric found him??? The events of the past days were all starting to blend together for the middle Hardy brother. Either they found Randy or he was going to have a nervous breakdown.
"Randy!" Matt shouted again. They were already past where the WWE stored all their production equipment, but Eric's assumption was that Randy was a: in the arena and b: someplace no one would think to look but c: somewhere easily accessible in case Jack and Evan had to make a hasty escape.
"Matt, it's very hard to concentrate when you're..." Eric stopped in mid-sentence.
"Did you hear something?" Matt gut-whispered
Eric held up his hand for absolute silence. There was no sound, except for something that could be dripping water. Matt also strained his ears.
"Randy!" This time it was Eric who shouted.
Both men stood absolutely still. One heartbeat... two heartbeats... then a noise.
"Did you hear that?" Matt asked
"Shhh... follow me." Eric walked down a corridor to the boiler room, Matt walking faster, several times bumping into Eric in his desperate haste to find out who or what was making that noise.
"Slow down." Eric cautioned after Matt had bumped into him for the third or fourth time. "It'll do no good for either of us if you break your leg tripping over something. I know you're anxious, but... chill."
Reluctantly, Matt slowed down but soon realized that Eric was right. They made steadier progress if Matt wasn't bumping into things every second step.
"Someone sure doesn't want us back here." Eric noticed an unusually large amount of skids and cardboard laying about. "Usually there's a clear path to the boiler room. Looks like whatever's back here whomever put it there didn't want anyone to find it... it doesn't necessarily mean anything, but I'm thinking it does."
Matt subconsciously crossed his fingers that it meant the emotional quest he'd been forced into was almost over.
Eric stepped over one last box and stood before a set of double doors, chained shut, with the words 'boiler room' written on a brass plate.
"We're definitely on the right track. It's against code to keep these doors locked like this."
"Randy!" Matt shouted "It's me Matt! We're coming to get you!"
"Shhh." Eric slapped his hand over Matt's mouth. "Sound travels... the last thing I want is a physical confrontation with those two jokers." Neither Matt nor Eric knew what had happened in the ring, or that at this point silence was totally unnecessary.
"Anybody in there?" Eric rattled the doors and waited for some sound within. Just as Matt was prepared to ask Eric to do it again, they heard a sound, almost like a muffled scream, coming from within.
"Bolt cutters... bolt cutters... bolt cutters... you seen any around?" In the dim light, Eric couldn't make out a whole lot outside a small circle.
"Will that work?" Matt pointed to the axe in a nearby glass case.
"If you can swing one."
"Can I swing one?" Matt scoffed, shattering the case's front with his elbow. "I started chopping wood for my dad when I was seven."
Matt hefted the axe, a lighter version than the one he was used to, but still strong enough to do the job with a square hit. "Why do I feel like Kate Winslet?" he asked, referring to a famous scene in "Titanic".
"Who?"
"Kate Wins... never mind." Matt lined up the blade with the two links of the chain that were pressed against the door handle.
Eric watched, not willing to tell Matt that not only did he get the reference, but he'd seen Titanic so many times he could recite the entire movie line for line.
Matt swung once, hitting the chain right where he wanted to but not breaking it.
Eric stepped forward to inspect the damage. He nodded satisfactorily. "One more swing like that should do it."
Matt nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He closed his eyes, knowing that he was going to shatter the chain before he even swung. The sound of metal on concrete proved him right.
While Matt reveled in his victory, Eric, with a mighty jerk, opened the nearer of the two doors. A cloud of steam billowed from the room.
"Randy? You in here?" He shouted, fanning the thick steam away from his face.
"Randy?" Matt repeated
The sounds that had led them to this spot were louder, but they couldn't make out anyone through the smoke.
"Follow me." Eric ran inside. Without a second thought, Matt followed.
...
"Much as I hate to say this, there doesn't seem to be any signs of concussion on either of you."
"Thanks, doc... what happened to your Hippocratic oath?" Evan sneered
"I left that at home. I may have to treat my patients, but nowhere does it say I have to agree with their actions." The trainer, disgusted, turned away from them, mumbling several obscenities.
"Well, fuck you too." Evan retorted "C'mon Jack, let's grab our insurance policy and get the hell outta here."
Evan confidently opened the door, but found the surprise waiting for him.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Adam growled
"We're leaving. There's nothing you can do to stop us, fuck-wad." Evan was prepared to take on Edge, having Tyler to back him up, but his plans soon changed when America's favorite Crispy Critter stepped into view.
"Care to rethink that?" Kane towered over both of them, and weighed almost as much as Evan and Jack combined. This destroyed any idea that either of them may have had about making a quick getaway, with or without Randy.
Evan groaned. Nearby, Jack turned four shades whiter.
"Look, we don't want any trouble from you..."
Kane looked at Edge and they both started laughing.
"It's not us you have to worry about. In fact, we might be the only chance you have of surviving longer than ten minutes." Edge stated
"Yeah... there are a few other people who have an interest in what happens to you two... Matt, Jeff, Randy, Tom, Mark, James..." Kane counted on his fingers. "Did I miss anyone?"
"Maybe Eric wants a piece of these two as well?" Adam added
Kane recounted the names. "That makes seven, not counting the two of us... hmmm, it looks like it's gonna be a long night."
They started laughing again.
"We're fucked." Jack whispered
"Not yet, we're not." Evan whispered "I got a back-up plan."
...
"Have you found him?" Matt asked, a tinge of panic creeping into his voice.
"Not yet." Eric returned to the middle of the room and looked around again, almost like he was trying to figure out where the noise could be coming from. "Don't worry yet. If he's in here, we WILL find him."
"Randy?" Matt shouted again. The muffled shout seemed to come from a spot nearby.
"He sounds nearby, but we've searched everywhere." Eric replied, looking around. Purely by accident, he looked up. "Fuck me!"
"What?" Matt had not seen where Eric had been staring at.
"Look." Eric pointed up. A catwalk ran across the length of the room and from where they stood, both Matt and Eric could see a large shape manacled to the steel supports.
"Fuck! Randy!" Matt screamed, taking off for a set of stairs he'd seen during his earlier searches, Eric on his coattails.
In seconds, they were on the catwalk and at Randy. He'd been bound, gagged, and shackled in such a way that he couldn't move more than a couple inches in either direction without choking himself.
"Randy... oh my God, Randy..." Matt started to cry, seeing his lover after so long. He moved as if to hug him, but was held back by Eric.
"Let's get him untied first." Eric stated
Matt swallowed loudly, trying to stay calm but one look at Randy's bruised and swollen face started him off again. Randy looked like he'd lost a fight with the entire front line of the Pittsburgh Steelers, but to Matt, he'd never looked so beautiful.
"Hold his arms and legs still while I get these things off him." Eric removed a long tool from his pocket and used it to start picking the locks on the the shackles. It was slow going, but eventually Randy was no longer chained to the metal rails. It was much easier to remove the handcuffs and shackles once Randy was free.
"This might hurt." Eric ripped the duct tape from Randy's mouth. It was all he could do to whimper.
"Matt?"
"Randy..." Matt was now bawling uncontrollably. "I'm here." He cradled the torn body of his lover in his arms. He was quite happy to stay there with Randy, but Eric had other ideas.
"I hate to interrupt this Kodak moment, but I'd suggest we get outta here just in case Tweedledum and Tweedledumber come looking for him." Eric cast a worried glance in the direction of the door like an interruption was expected any moment.
"Can you walk?" Matt asked, standing and letting Randy put all his body weight on him. Randy got to his feet, but wobbled unsteadily and were it not for Matt's grip would've gone over the railing of the catwalk to the floor below.
"Easy, man. Nice and slow." Matt draped Randy's arm over his shoulder and they gingerly moved Randy to firmer ground.
"Home, Matty... please?" Randy whispered
"As soon as we can get you out of here." Matt whispered, the tears flowing freely because he was so happy to have Randy back. He was starting to fear that he may never see his legend-killin' lover ever again.
"Where are we going to take him?" Eric asked, offering his body to take some of the weight from Matt. Randy cringed when Eric took his arm.
"No! Just Matt!" He yelled hoarsely, nearing bringing both of them crashing onto the ground when he violently draped the arm Eric had taken around Matt.
"Okay." Eric knew when to back off. "Ideas?"
"Let's see if we can get him into our locker room without being seen. We'll deal with what to do from there." Matt adjusted Randy's arms so he wasn't being throttled, but with no luck. Eventually he gave up and just carried Randy like a newborn down the corridor with Eric in the lead, pushing any obstacles out of the way.
They barely got back into their room without being seen. Matt actually sprinted the last forty feet when he realized that they would have to go passed the trainers room. This after overhearing the latest in the conversation between Evan and Jack and Glenn and Adam.
"...no legal right to keep us prisoner.." Evan shouted
"Just like you kept Randy..." The rest of Glenn's sentence was cut off by the closing of the door.
"Lay him down somewhere." Eric started grabbing towels and anything else soft he could to use as a temporary bed.
"Home?" Randy whined
"In a minute, babe." Matt whispered, setting his boyfriend down on a thick pile of towels using Matt's travel bag as a pillow.
"What the fuck... you found him!" So wrapped up were they, that neither of them heard the door open again.
"Jeffro, shut the fuckin' door." Matt hissed
"Sorry." Jeff apologized, quickly sealing the door again.
"S'okay." Matt wiped a mixture of perspiration and tears from his face.
"Where was he?" Jeff asked
"Strapped to a catwalk in the boiler room." Eric growled, carefully watching the door.
"Those motherfuckers! Lemme at 'em!" Jeff was going to take them both on himself, a fact made clear when he tried to leave. Eric blocked the door.
"You'll do no such thing." He said in his don't-fuck-with-me voice. "The only thing you're gonna do is figure out a way to tell your brother that our mission was successful."
"Tommy's still in the ring. It shouldn't be too hard for me to interfere in the match." Jeff stated
"I'd rather you do it from backstage. After what the doctor said, I don't want you anywhere near that ring." Matt said
"Party-pooper." Jeff grumbled
"Please, Jeffro..." Matt whined "Do it for Randy 'n me."
"Be right back." Jeff eased out of the locker room and skipped down the hall, making it look like he was going to raid the candy machines.
"Hungry again, Jeff? I swear that you should weight three hundred pounds with all the candy you stuff into you." He skipped past Shane, who couldn't resist a jab.
"Skittles are yummy." Jeff sang back.
"You've mentioned that once or twice before." Shaking his head in bewilderment, Shane returned to his pre-match warming up. As soon as Shane was out of sight, Jeff quickly curtailed his purchasing and ran to the production truck. Without bothering to knock, he burst inside.
"What are you..."
"Is there anyway you can get a message to Tommy and Mark?" Jeff stared at the monitors. The hell in a cell match was still going on, completely oblivious to the drama that had already unfolded backstage.
"It has to be a short one. No more than two words."
Jeff thought for a moment. It had to be short and sweet so that it could be passed to Tom and/or Mark without arousing suspicion.
"Tell them 'it's done'." Jeff stated
The production crew relayed the message to the ring, through referee Scott Armstrong's earpiece. Mark and Tom were busy wailing away at each other outside the ring and, even though he didn't know exactly what the message meant, he promised to get it to one of them as soon as it was feasible.
Jeff quickly returned to the scene of his crime: the candy machine. If it was going to appear that he had bought candy, it would make sense if he was seen chomping on some.
"Mmmm... Skittles..." Jeff danced back toward their locker room, only pausing when he saw people to eat a handful of the precious fruity candy.
He skipped past the trainers' room, laughing to himself when he saw the situation that was unfolding there. He almost felt sorry for Jack and Evan when he saw that Glenn and Adam were guarding the door, effectively making them prisoners. But then he remembered what Randy looked like, and any pity was gone in seconds.
Jeff winked sultrily at them, then danced away. There was good news to deliver, Skittles to eat, and if everything worked out the way he'd hoped, he'd get a reward for his work.
...
Outside the ring, Mark and Tom were trading punches. Tom ducked one of Mark's swings and peppered him with several stiff left hands.
"Whip." He whispered, taking a step backward, and running at Mark. 'Taker elbowed Tom, then whipped him toward the ring steps. Instead of going shoulder-first, his momentum carried him over the steps, his knee banging awkwardly off the corner. Tom had never felt pain like that in his life. He clutched his knee and screamed when he felt a bump on the side of it.
"You okay?" The referee asked, jumping from the ring to crouch above him.
"Do I look fuckin' alright to you?" Tom shouted, grinding his teeth to block out the pain.
The ref signaled for assistance, as well as for the cage to rise.
Tom writhed on the floor. Every time he looked at the lump, he got sick to his stomach.
"Just hold still. Paramedics are on their way. Can you straighten your leg at all?"
Tom moved it an inch and screamed again. He saw white spots on the edge of his vision.
"Stretcher's here. Stay with us." The referee gently slapped Tom's face whenever he looked like he was going to pass out.
"I'm tryin'." Tom looked up through glazed eyes.
"Don't try. Do it. Do it for Randy."
"Randy?" Tom's eyes widened
"Yeah, they found him." Chioda said softly
"They did? Thank God." The pain finally overtook him and he faded into blackness.
The gurney went up the stage, Mark tailing close behind.
I hope you two are fuckin' happy.