Chrysanthemums
"This is fuckin' ridiculous." Evan paced the ten foot by ten foot square room. "Explain to me again how the hell we ended up here?"
"A little something called being arrested for kidnapping, rape, extortion, and God know what else." Jack was lying across one of the metal benches that doubled for a bed. "How about you explain to me why the hell I listened to you in the first place?"
"Because you hate the Hardys just as much as I do." Evan answered, leaning on the metal bars.
"I'm starting to wonder if hating the Hardy's is worth all this shit. I've been arrested, again, I have a splitting headache, and all you succeeded in doing is pissing off a lotta people. What were you thinking, threatening Mark like that... or were you?" Tyler's patience with Evan was wearing very thin.
"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Evan stated
"So did driving the Titanic through an ice field at top speed." Jack retorted "We all know how that ended up."
"What are you sayin'?" Evan asked
"If there's any chance of getting a lesser sentence outta this, I'm throwin' you to the wolves. This was all your idea from day one, and I am not spending the..."
Evan jumped on Jack, swinging his fists wildly in the direction of his face. "You're not saying a Goddamn thing, you hear me! Not a Goddamn thing!"
Jack whimpered, his mouth trickling blood from where his lips had been pinched.
"We're in this together. If you fink me out, I'll see to it that you don't last ten minutes in prison. Prisoners don't like child molesters."
"But I didn't... you wouldn't dare!" Jack wiped some of the blood onto his sleeve.
"Try me Tyler... just fuckin' try me." The look in Evan's eyes convinced Jack that he would make good on his threats. "I've heard that Orton ain't talking to anyone... we'll be outta here soon and then we can finish this."
It was with a heavy heart that Tom returned to Smackdown the following week. Not return in the sense of going back into the ring, but Creative had a weird idea to suddenly drop his angle with Mark and insert him into the Princess Straightedge/Luke Gallows work.
The last thing Tom wanted to do was go anywhere near a WWE event, but with Jeff officially finished, bills starting to pile up, and according to Jeff not enough money in his account to buy a bag of his favorite snack, Tom had little choice to but to go back.
Halfway between the entrance and the locker room, Tom was intercepted by Stephanie. With Vince fertilizer, and Linda and Shane publicly pursuing other ventures, the Billion-dollar princess was getting more and more involved behind the scenes, even though she was still officially the head of the sales department.
"I know having to come back like this isn't fun..."
"How'd ya figure?" Tom said, transferring his body weight to his good leg and trying to look like he wasn't in as much pain as he was.
"Can you come by the office once you're done your in-ring? I wanna discuss a few things with you."
"Sure, I guess. This is has something to do with my contract, right?"
Steph's body language said yes even though her mouth wasn't as direct. "Just stop by, okay." With that, she turned and walked in the other direction.
"Yes, ma'am." Tom saluted a la John Cena.
"Excuse me." Tom grabbed a P.A. "How long until Phil does his shtick?"
"You got about a half-hour."
"Perfect. Can you run out and buy me a mickey of whiskey and a pack of smokes?"
"I guess."
"Here's fifty. If that ain't enough, let me know." Tom handed a bill over.
"Okay, but can I ask why?"
"This is probably going to be my last on-camera appearance for a while so I'm going out with a bang instead of a thunk."
A nod. Despite Phil amping it up ten notches for the crowd, backstage he was starting to get just as preachy about the merits of Straightedge and it was starting to annoy some members of the production staff as well as the talent. He waited patiently for the production assistant's return while Phil, with Luke (the rumors about those two were enough to make his dick stand up), entered the ring and started their spiel.
"Despite the total lack of concern for your own well-being, I am here to save you all. Save you all from yourselves and your abuses of alcohol, cigarettes, prescription drugs. Straightedge is the only thing that can prevent all of you from becoming just another statistic..."
Backstage, Tom prayed that his booze would arrive soon enough. This promo might be more believable with a few shots in his system.
"Can you believe this guy?"
"Matt?" Tom turned at the friendly voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"I dunno." He looked like he was suffering from a lack of sleep. "I got a call this morning that Creative wanted me to do a run-in."
"That's what I am doing." Tom turned around. "How's Randy?"
"Still in the hospital. Still won't talk to anyone except me, and just barely." Matt scraped his left heel against his right shin.
"Mr. Hardy...?"
"Yes?" Both Matt and Tom responded.
"I was supposed to deliver this to one of you, I guess." Looking from one Hardy to the other, the grip was clearly confused.
"Booze and smokes? That's for me." Tom took the brown paper bag. The flask went into the side pocket of his jacket, the cigarettes into his jeans. "I'll see ya out there Matty."
Punk was still going on, riling up half the audience and putting the other half to sleep.
"...you have two choices. Embrace the straightedge lifestyle or continue on the path of decadence and become just like your Charismatic Enabler..."
"Nobody talks about my husband that way." Tom growled
The opening riff of "Go Insane" cut Phil off in mid-sentence. He was truly surprised at who was interrupting him.
"Well, if it isn't America's favorite couple. I was backstage and since your brainwashing seems to be working real well on all these people, I figured I better come out a put a stop to it."
"You're no better than each and every one of these people who chose to pollute..."
"Phil, shut up." Tom squinted. "You ran my br... husband out of the WWE because he chose to live his life the way he wanted to and not by some archaic principles that might have worked twenty years ago."
"He was a loser, a drug user..."
Tom tuned him out. He was craving a drink or a smoke or something. "Fascinating. Excuse me for a moment." He took the cigarettes from his jeans and lit one right in Punk's face. "Crave a man his indulgences."
"That is what I'm talking about. Putting that crap in your body..."
"Is my choice. Y'know, I used to like you. We used to have a lotta fun closing bars. Not once did I complain that you were the only one who wasn't drinking, and you were one of, if not the, best puking buddies around. But you changed, Phil. And I speak for a lot of the guys in the back, as well as probably everyone here. This new you sucks." Tom punctuated this by blowing a cloud of smoke at Phil and Luke.
"That is the difference between the rest of these addicts and me..."
"Is that we don't try to shove our lifestyles down other people's throats. Excuse me, but this whole conversation is leaving a bad taste in my mouth,"
The audience cheered loudly when they saw what Tom was taking out of his other pocket. He took a swig of the liquor, then a second.
"I'd offer your friend some, but it looks like you've done a real good job on him." Tom recapped the flask.
"Luke is an example of what can happen when you clear your mind..."
"You mean empty it. That boy hasn't had an original thought since he hooked up with you. Yes, I said hooked-up. Correct me if I'm wrong, and I'm sure you will, but screwing around isn't part of the lifestyle either."
"Yeah. So?"
"So how would you justify checking into the no-tell motel with Luke? I thought you were dating Amy... by the way, has she cheated on you yet?"
"I am Luke's savior." Phil growled "Thanks to me, he has licked his addictions..."
"From what I've heard, that's not all he's been licking..."
Luke stepped between Phil and Tom, grabbing the collar of his jacket.
"If you wanted a drink, all you had to do was ask nicely." In one fluid movement, Tom shattered the glass bottle over Luke's head, dousing him with the liquor. A mixture of blood and glass rained down to the canvas. Tom had but a second to admire his handiwork, and adjust his grip on his crutch before Phil stepped in.
"You think you're so cool, do ya?" Phil shouted, getting so close his beard tickled Tom's chin.
"Dude, you really need to fuckin' shave." Tom took one step back for every step Phil advanced.
"By the time I'm done with you, it'll be completely irrelevant what I need to do." Phil kicked one of Tom's crutches out of his hand. Thankfully, it was not the one supporting the better of his two legs.
Okay, Matt, now would be a good fuckin' time.
The cheering of the fans told Tom that the cavalry had indeed arrived. Matt and his new friend R-Truth stormed the ring and started beating on Gallows and Punk. Tom stood off to the side, the grip on his crutch just so in case he was needed.
"Hold up, playas." Teddy Long interrupted. "I may still be on probation but this ain't the time for this. I'm making a tag-team match for later tonight. It will be Luke Gallows and CM Punk..."
A symphony of boos rained down on them. Punk nodded, like he was ready to do the deed right then.
"...versus the team of Matt Hardy..."
The fans cheered loudly. Matt also looked ready to go, as did R-Truth.
"...and his partner Tom Hardy!"
Truth, Matt, and Tom did double- and triple-takes.
"Just what the hell are you playing at?" Tom shouted
"I ain't playing. I haven't forgotten how you pulled the wool over my eyes when you ran ECW, so consider this a little payback." Teddy danced his way off the stage, leaving the five wrestlers to stare at each other. Tom was a little creeped out at Gallows' and Punk's expressions. Like lions about ready to feast on a gazelle.
"What the hell is he trying to prove? I'm not cleared to wrestle!" Panic was not something he did very often, but this time was the exception for Tom. "This ain't what I signed up for!"
"Relax, bro." Matt said "I'll run the match, you just stand in the corner."
"You got me bro, if ya need it!" Truth added
"See, Tom, nobody's gonna let either of those two jokers lay a finger on you." Matt pointed at their future opponents, now at the top of the stage, Punk with his head in his heads mocking his GTS finisher.
"Just one more turd to add to the heap." Tom shook his head wistfully. "Well, I guess I better go find out what the billion-dollar bitch wants... can you pass me my other crutch?"
...
"Glad you could make it on such short notice."
"Not like I had anything better to do tonight, other than get put into a match that I didn't exactly agree to." Tom stated "I assume this has something to do with the company being on the hook for my contract."
"In a way. I'm not sure what Creative was thinking, making you get in the ring, but..."
"Just wanted to let the fans see the future fade into the past?" Tom replied "Mind if I sit down?"
"Please do." Stephanie shuffled several papers on her desk. "I reviewed the contract you just signed and there is a clause in it that if you suffer a career-ending injury in the ring, we're on the hook for the entire amount you would have been paid, including bonuses and merchandise royalties, et cetera et cetera..."
"Standard fare." Tom replied. He hadn't bothered to read the fine print, so this was as much news to him as it was to Stephanie.
"However, I would like to make you an offer." Stephanie added
"Buyout?" Tom guessed
"Hardly. There's something about you, Tom. You have this ability to make people believe what you're saying, even when your talking in-character... persuasive, that's the word I am looking for." Steph folded her hands together and leaned forward. "I'd like you to work for our sales department while we wait to see how you heal."
"Sales? I haven't been in sales since I worked for 7-Eleven when I was in college." Tom answered
"I know your background, Hardy, and I also know that you have a family to support." Stephanie answered "With what I am proposing, you will be making pretty close to what your contract would have paid you. The only drawback is the job requires extensive travel, comparable to what you had been doing when you wrestled."
"Only difference being I won't have to worry about running my knee into the ring steps any more." Tom added "If I decide not to take this job, what will happen?"
"Then we'll put you on the next plane back to Chicago and you'll spend your time recuperating, curled up on your sofa watching "The Young and The Restless" with that pathetic stuffed Lizard you carry around with you!" Stephanie seemed insulted that Tom was even considering a refusal of her order.
"Hey... Lizard isn't pathetic! He's just... Lizard." A small part of Tom's brain pondered why they were arguing about the pathetic qualities of Lizard. (He's not!)
"I'm waiting."
"You actually want me to make a decision now?" Tom demanded
"I was kinda hoping this wouldn't be a tough one." Folding her arms across her ample cleavage, Stephanie waited for a reply. "I've been around the guys longer than you have, Jeff especially, and he doesn't impress me as the type who is able to save a lot of money."
Dammit, how'd she know...? Money was very tight. Jeff enjoyed spending his pay cheque as fast as he earned it, and now that there were no further ones from wrestling, excepting merchandising, Tom was the be all and the end all when it came to being the breadwinner of the family.
"I'll let you know after my match, is that alright?" Tom was positive that he was going to take the job, much as he despised the idea of working for Stephanie.
Steph nodded, although her eyes told a completely different story.
"Fine." Tom stepped out into the hall, where he was almost run over by Matt.
"There you are. I been lookin' all over for you. We're on next."
"My swan song." Tom stated
At gorilla, they were joined by R-Truth.
"Since this is, technically, a handicap match, I asked Ron if he'd watch our backs. Then, after the match, we're both gonna fuck him."
Tom laughed, then suddenly stopped.
"Whassup?" Truth chanted
Sometimes it was hard to tell when Matt was joking and when he was being deadly serious. This was one of those times. "This may be my last night... no sense getting my hopes up."
"Your hopes aren't the only thing we'll be getting up." Matt smirked
...
"This tag-team contest is scheduled for one fall. Introducing first, a total combined weight of five hundred thirty-seven pounds, Luke Gallows and CM Punk..."
"Teddy Long made this match earlier tonight, and the big question is... will Tom Hardy be able to compete?" Matt Striker stated
"If the rumors are true, and this is Tom's last night, I'm sure he'll find a way." Todd Grisham answered
"After suffering that horrendous knee injury at the hands of The Undertaker during Hell in a Cell, I'm curious as to what he'll be able to do, if anything, during this match."
"And their opponents... accompanied by R-Truth, at a combined weight of four hundred eighty two pounds... Matt and Tom... the Hardyz!"
While R-Truth rapped their way to the ring, Matt and Tom had a whispered conversation. "Remember, let me run the match. Don't even think about getting in that ring... am I clear, big brother?"
"Yes, sir." Tom answered
"I don't care if we get our asses kicked, you stand there and keep out of the way."
"I heard you the first coupla times." Tom hobbled his way toward the ring. "I wish I hadn't wasted all that booze earlier."
"At least you got your smokes with ya." Matt jimmied his way up the steps. Tom rolled under the bottom ropes, and using them for leverage, pulled himself to his feet while Truth was finishing his "What's up?" routine.
The bell rang to begin the fight. True to his word, Matt started off against Gallows, who was wearing a stained bandage across his forehead, a little reminder of his last encounter with a man named Hardy... Tom Hardy.
As Matt started punching wildly at Luke, he thought of every comment directed at Jeff that had come from the two of them... it was almost as if they were taking credit for ending his wrestling career, instead of what had really happened at the hands of Bourne and Tyler. They were using Jeff well-documented problems as a a platform for their own propaganda.
"Nice strategy, Hardy." Punk yelled from his corner. "But just wait... by the time Luke is done with you, you'll be wishing that Tom was taking your place."
"Not Goddamn likely." Tom shouted from the opposite corner. "I got another bottle and it has your name on it. Tonight, you'll be the one changing teams."
A whip to the near ropes by Punk forced Tom to sidestep. Not because he was afraid of contacting Matt, and have the ref claim a tag, but because even the vibrations from the ropes was enough to send pain through his leg.
He looked down at Truth, the same thought going through both of their minds... 'this is gonna get messy'.
...
"I really wish you'd tell me what you were gonna do?" On the other side of the arena, Mark was engaged in a conversation with James.
"Marky, the less people who know, the better." James answered
"But you're gonna do something, right?" Mark queried
"What makes you think that?" James put on his innocent face.
"We've been together for what, almost twenty-eight years, right?" Mark stated "I know you that well, at least."
"It's been that long? I can remember when we were both just horny, psycho teens." James answered
"Two-thirds o' that still apply, but you still haven't answered my question. You are gonna do something."
James just chuckled and hung up the phone.
"It would be nice to get a straight answer from him for once." Mark stared at his phone and tucked it into his pocket. "Just once."
"It would be nice if Marky didn't get all worked up over nothing." James stared at his own phone. "Maybe he should learn to trust me a little more."
"Pfft! C'mon Dad, this is you we're talking about." Cooper looked over from where he had one eye on the television and the other now tuned to James.
"Your point being what?" James also turned his attention from the television.
"My point being that Mark is acting like I'm gonna go do something that'll get us all into a shitload of trouble." James replied "Fight, you fat slut, fight! He's an outta shape ex-cop... I think our family should go on Wilkos."
"And what exactly would that accomplish?" Cooper said "I don't think even Doctor-fucking-Phil would have a shot with us."
"Probably nothing, but I just wanna beat the shit outta Steve." James loved the shows, but he hated the fact that all the guests were spineless. If it were he, he'd take on Jerry, Steve, and anyone else who dared get in his way. "He's just a big pussy... look at him, "oh, get off my stage!"..." He was getting more irritated by the second.
"For fuck's sake Dad, jeez." Cooper grabbed the remote and quickly changed the channel over to the wrestling.
"What the hell, boy!" James reached for the control, but Cooper quickly pulled it away.
"If you're gonna go pyscho at someone on the TV, might as well be something we can both enjoy."
"You know Jeff don't do that shit anymore, right?" James said, watching an embarrassed flush go to his son's face.
"So?" Cooper answered
"Don't bullshit me son, I know you have a crush on him. Hell, even Connor knows and he ain't the smartest sheep in the flock." James answered "My room is right next to yours... I hear you moaning his name in your sleep."
"I do not!"
"Whatever, son!"
"Daddy, we're outta cookies!" Connor's whiny voice came from the kitchen.
"I've told you a hundred times... if you want cookies, get a job and buy them yourself!" James roared "I am not paying for your cookie addiction."
"Yeah." Cooper agreed. Anything to divert the attention away from himself. "Dad buys ten boxes and I'm lucky if I get one cookie."
"Daddy! Cooper's being mean!" Connor whined again.
"Cooper, if you're going to be mean to your brother, do it somewhere I don't have to hear it." James glared at his children
"Fine." Cooper threw the remote back at his father and stormed out of the living room. James heard the sounds of the argument, then "No... put me down!" from Connor, then the sounds of footsteps on the stairs.
"At least they're outta my hair for an hour." James smiled, knowing what their battles usually led to. He turned the volume a little higher, drowning out the screams he knew would be coming.
...
"NO!" Connor screeched at the top of his lungs. He began pounding his fists against Cooper's back. "Put me down! Cooper!"
Cooper ignored his younger brother. They had been doing this song and dance for a long time now. If he put Connor down, then it was going to be one of the biggest mistakes that he could possibly make in his life. Connor was a deadly little shit, despite having the mental and emotional capacity of someone less than half his actual age. "You always say I'm mean to you," he growled. "And I'm getting fucking tired of it. I didn't do anything to you today."
"You did too!"
"Oh really?" Cooper entered his room and kicked the door shut behind him. "What did I do to you that was so mean?"
"You...you...you...you wanted to eat my cookies!"
Cooper tossed Connor's ass on to the bed and glared at him. "I like cookies too you little bastard. And if you think I've been mean before, you haven't seen noth--"
Connor didn't let him finish. He jumped up and lunged at Cooper. Cooper managed to catch him, but he lost his balance immediately afterward and they both went crashing down to the ground.
"Meanie!" Connor yelled. "Meanie meanie meanie!"
God, why do I keep putting up with him? Cooper asked himself as he and Connor rolled all along the floor. They were hitting and kicking and choking each other, knocking shit all over the place and probably breaking some of it in the process. Cooper was doing his best to restrain Connor but Connor wasn't having none of that. Connor kneed him between the legs and then tried to take off running. Without thinking, Cooper grabbed his ankle and yanked on it as hard as he could. Connor immediately tripped and fell, and he didn't get a chance to catch himself. That turned out to not be a good thing because he ended up smashing his face into an overturned chair.
"Oh shit!" Cooper exclaimed. He let go of Connor's ankle and crawled over to the younger man's side. "Connor! You okay?"
"Owies!" Connor whined. His voice was muffled because he had his hand over his mouth. "I got hurted!"
"Let me see," Cooper said. He tried to take Connor's hand away.
"No!"
"Come on, just let me see."
"Nuh uh! You hurted me! Imma tell Daddy!"
Cooper instantly went pale. He was going to get throttled if Connor opened his big fat mouth. "I'll buy you cookies!" he offered quickly.
That got Connor's attention. "Really?"
"Yup."
"You won't take any?"
"Nope."
"And you'll watch Beetlejuice with me afterwards?"
"Sure."
"And you'll color with me and not be a big baby like you say I am?"
Cooper sighed. Connor was pushing it, but the thought of James getting angry was enough to sacrifice his dignity. Dignity wouldn't do him any good if he was killed. "Yes. Now will you not tell Dad?"
Connor nodded. "Yup." He took his hand away from his mouth and licked his bloody lip. "I want Oreos."
"Fine," Cooper said with a sigh. He got up to his feet. "Let's go."
"Yay!" Connor kissed Cooper's cheek. "I love my big brother."
"For how long this time?"
"Until you're mean again."
"That's what I figured."
...
The noises from upstairs ceased suddenly, which surprised James. He'd figured the two of them were gonna fuck the other's brains out. He was even more surprised when Cooper suddenly ran downstairs and out the door.
"What the fuck?" James got out of his chair and walked to the window, just in time to see Cooper drive off on one of the bikes. He shrugged. "Boy musta run out of condoms or somethin'."
With Cooper gone, and the yelling shut up temporarily, James turned the volume down on the wrestling. Hearing CM Punk scream for his life, while erotic, was not what he wanted right then. Nor was his phone a welcome intrusion either, ringing suddenly and distracting him even more. He squinted at the readout... it was an unknown name.
"Whoever the fuck this is, you better hope I don't find you." He barked
"You won't." The voice on the other end replied. "But I'm sure there are some people you would like to."
"What are you talking about?"
"You want Bourne and Tyler outta the way? I know where you can find them. But it'll cost you."
James grinned. He was already starting to like the way this guy operated. "Just tell me when and where."
"Not now. Wrigley Field... midnight... alone."
"Who is this?" James demanded again. "If this is a joke..."
"Wrigley Field... midnight... alone." The voice repeated, then the line went dead.
James snapped his phone shut, squeezing it tightly in his hand.
"You better not be shitting me... or you will rest in peace." James laughed at his own joke then got up from his chair. Midnight was only six hours away and there was work to be done. Yes, much work to be done.