NOTE: Fuck. I never intended to leave the story this long, especially since it's still itching to be told. All I can say is that I'm sorry and I have no intentions of leaving it anymore.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: The title and lyrics are from "Figure 8" by TRUSTCompany; all rights, etc, belong to them.

Chapter 30: Figure 8

I am all you need to know

And I'm everywhere you go

No one can save you now

When it all comes around…

The Hardy brothers staggered down the hallway, crew members and wrestlers alike clearing a path for them as they stumbled away from the gorilla area. Jeff could barely stand; his arm slung around Matt's shoulders for support, and the elder Hardy brother wasn't doing much better - the combined beating from Nitro and Rated RKO had left both of them the worse for wear. However, there was an intense, almost fanatical gleam in the Charismatic Enigma's green eyes; despite his injuries, he seemed to be propelling himself forward through sheer force of will, and Matt wasn't holding him up so much as trying to hold him back.

This…is only the beginning…

The inside of Jeff's skull was a maelstrom of chaos; a swirling vortex of sensations and thoughts, and above all - pain. Pain in his body, obviously - his head was pounding, and a thin line of blood trickled from one nostril where Nitro had kicked him in the face - but more than that, deeper than that, there was pain in his soul, as though the caustic acid of his failure in the ring had leached all the way down to the innermost essence of him.

He could hear Matt talking frantically to him–bro could you stop could you stop for one second and let them check you–but it was faint and inconsequential; barely audible over the memory of Melina's screams as Nitro dragged her from the ring—

Savor this…because after tonight…you will NEVER see her again…

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior's strength abruptly left him, and he collapsed to his knees, almost dragging his brother down with him. He tried to rise, but his legs had turned to jelly, the last remaining dregs of adrenaline and crazed emotion fuelling him truly and utterly spent. Jeff let his head sag back, staring dully up at the ceiling. Tears stung his eyes, blurring his vision and turning the fluorescent light panels above him into blinding white waves, and he felt them run down his cheeks, as he wondered (for the millionth time now) how everything had gone so fucking wrong, so fucking quickly…

Matt dropped down beside his brother, trying to pull him back to his feet, but the Charismatic Enigma was like dead weight, paralyzed by pain and emotion. "Come on, Jeffro," the elder Hardy brother urged. "Stay with me. Let's just get to the trainer, and then we can–" He stopped as a microphone descended seemingly out of nowhere, pausing in front of Jeff's face. Matt's dark eyes narrowed, his gaze sliding from the microphone up to its owner – Todd Grisham, with the unblinking lens of a camera just to his right.

The Raw backstage interviewer nervously pushed his glasses further up his nose with one finger. "Jeff!" He pushed the microphone further toward his target, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior, still locked in his own little world, didn't acknowledge him. Grisham gulped uncomfortably and shifted focus, swinging the microphone toward Matt. "Uh…Matt! Can you talk to me about that title match you just had? Rated RKO with the DQ - and then Johnny Nitro out of nowhere—"

"Can you fu–" The elder Hardy brother managed to snap his mouth shut over that particular four-letter word, settling for glaring at the the backstage reporter instead. "Dude - read the room. Does this look like a good time?"

The expression on Grisham's face said that he empathized, but also still had a job to do, so he persisted, swinging his focus back toward the Charismatic Enigma. "Look, Jeff…I'm sorry, but I have to ask–" The briefest of hesitations. "Melina–"

At the sound of the Dominant Diva's name, Jeff finally stirred, tilting his head back down and locking eyes with Grisham. He couldn't feel his face to be able to tell what kind of expression was on it, but whatever was there was enough to make the other man take an involuntary step back. "What about Melina?" His voice was soft, almost inaudible, but there was a dangerous note running through it like an undercurrent.

Grisham clearly heard it, because his face flushed red, his discomfort clear as he went on. "Well…you…and Melina…how did that–" His voice abruptly trailed off, his gaze shifting to a point just above Jeff's left shoulder.

"Jeff?"

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior turned toward the source of the voice—and was promptly hit with a slap across the face that knocked him all the way back down to the floor. Maria stood over him, breathing hard, her big green eyes blazing with fury. "Melina, Jeff? You and Melina?" She lashed out with one foot, the pointed toe of her high heel catching him in the shin. "All this time, you've been screwing around with her behind my back…and you didn't even have the balls to tell me?" Another kick. "You had to have me find out on live television in front of the entire locker room?" A third kick, harder this time.

Jeff remained silent, mostly because he was too busy trying to pick his face up off the floor. He had never imagined that the former Diva Search contestant could hit so hard. Besides, even if he had been able to respond–it wouldn't have changed the fact that she was right.

He had failed her. Not just now, but from the very beginning; from the moment he had asked her to be his girlfriend, because the doubts had been there, even then. But instead of manning up and telling her the truth, he had chosen the coward's way out and perpetuated a lie, all the while hoping that his feelings would change.

And what had happened? His feelings hadn't changed…and now he had destroyed them both.

Matt, meanwhile, rose to his feet and reached over to grab Maria's arm, trying to pull the backstage reporter away from his brother. "'Ria, listen–"

"Don't touch me!" Maria yanked herself free. She whirled around, fixing her furious expression on the elder Hardy brother. "Don't 'Ria' me like we're still friends or something! You knew about this!" It was both a statement and an accusation. "You knew…and still you lied to my face and told me there was nothing to worry about."

The look of acute pain that flitted across Matt's face indicated that her words had hit home. He started to speak, stopped, started again, stopped again, eventually settling for a helpless shrug. "I…I'm sorry–"

Maria stared at him as though she was seriously considering spitting on him. "You make me sick." Her emerald irises flicked back toward Jeff, and in her gaze, the elder Hardy brother saw the faint echo of a heartbroken fury he understood all too well - after all, he had experienced the same emotion last year when he had learned about Lita and his best friend. "Both of you." the backstage reporter finished, spitting out the words as though they tasted foul. With that, she stormed off, the clack of her high heels against the concrete as loud and abrasive as gunshots.

Grisham and the camera man had both vanished - it seemed that secondhand embarrassment had finally won out over journalistic integrity. And from the floor, Matt heard a sound that was either a laugh or a wail and utterly horrifying in how devastated it sounded. As he watched, Jeff balled his hand up into a fist, slamming it into the floor. Once. Twice. Three times. As he brought his hand back up for another strike, the elder Hardy brother saw smears of blood on the floor; saw the scrapes and tears on his knuckles where the skin had split.

Matt's horrified paralysis finally snapped, and he dropped down, grabbing his brother by the wrists, forcing him to stop. "Jeff! Jeffro! You have to calm down—"

"Why?" The Charismatic Enigma's voice was ragged, the single word tearing out of him in an agonized gasp. "She's right. I couldn't stop either one of them from getting hurt. Maria—I broke her heart, and Melina—"

His voice cracked. "I promised her, Matt. I promised her that he would never hurt her again. She came out with us because she was scared, because the only place she felt safe was with me…and I let her down. I let him take her–"

His green eyes were bright and desperate, and Matt remembered how he had seen that same desperation in his brother's gaze during his last intervention, as he'd tried (and failed) to convince everyone in the room that he didn't have a problem, that he wasn't an addict.

In a way, they were right in the middle of another intervention - only this time, it was an entirely different form of addiction…and whatever guilt the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was feeling cut all the way down to the bone.

The words poured out of Jeff like water, almost becoming unintelligible as they tumbled over one another. "She was screaming, Matt. I can…I can still hear her screaming." His breathing became rapid and shallow, as he started to hyperventilate. "She trusted me…and I can still hear her screaming–"

"I know that, bro," Matt interjected. He grabbed his brother's face in both of his hands, forcing him to face him. "I know that, and we'll get her back, I promise - but first things first, Jeffro, you have to calm down–"

"No!" With an enormous burst of effort that seemed almost superhuman, the Charismatic Enigma tore free, staggering to his feet. "I'll just find some way to fuck it up, like I always do! Everything I touch…I destroy." The insane light in his emerald irises abruptly flickered out, leaving them glazed and vacant as he stared off into the middle distance. "Maybe…everyone was right."

He paused, and Matt almost had to look away - he had never seen his brother look so desolate. "Maybe," Jeff whispered. "I never should have come back."

"Jeff–" Matt tried to grab his brother's arm, but the Rainbow-Haired Warrior had already stumbled off.

And I'm everything you see

I'm what you'll never be

No one can save you now

When it all comes around

"Let go of me!"

Melina pulled back with all of her strength, trying to extricate herself from Nitro's iron grip. The stiletto heels of her boots shuddered against the pavement like nails on a chalkboard as the self-proclaimed A-lister yanked her inexorably forward.

They were in a distant section of the parking area, far past even the equipment trucks; an area where you would only have one of two reasons to frequent. Either you were running late, and you had arrived at the arena with only minutes to spare…or you didn't want people to see what you were doing.

The memory of how she'd gotten here was a hazy blur. She remembered Nitro's boot crashing into Jeff's face; the Charismatic Enigma collapsing onto the mat in a heap. She remembered lunging for Jeff, trying to reach him - only to be hauled bodily out of the ring and up the ramp by Nitro, his arms wrapped around her waist, her booted feet kicking wildly for purchase in midair. She remembered reaching the gorilla area, where she'd almost gotten away - the self-proclaimed A-lister had stumbled backing through the curtain, loosening his grip on her - but she'd only made it a few steps before his hand clamped around her wrist like a claw, twisting her arm until it felt like it was going to wrench right out of its socket.

She remembered - this was the clearest memory, and in its own way, the most awful - she remembered the way everyone (crew, wrestler, Diva) had looked at them; seen her bruised face and tears streaming down her cheeks…and then looked away, their gazes gliding over her as though she was little more than furniture.

No one moved. No one spoke up. Even the ones who had the decency to look appalled…no one came to her aid. And in that moment, the paparazzi princess had never felt more alone.

Now, here in this empty lot that seemed to swallow even the most piercing of her screams, Melina found that a lot of her initial fear had bled away. She was still terrified, yes - the relentless calm that Nitro's rage had given way to was somehow more horrifying - but the fear was jostling for position with anger. And the anger was winning.

This was insane. It was crazy. This wasn't real.

"Let me go!" She swung wildly at Nitro with her free hand, trying to make contact. "Have you lost your mind? It is over between us, Johnny. You can't just kidnap me." Her voice, hoarse from screaming, shook with fury and barely contained hysteria. "Jeff will find me, and when he does, he'll kill you—"

"No, he won't." Nitro whirled around so fast that Melina had to stop short just to avoid making contact with him. The former Intercontinental Champion slowly pushed his sunglasses up onto his head - the fact that he was wearing sunglasses at night in a dimly lit parking lot was somehow the most terrifying thing of all - his eyes locking onto hers. "And even if he does - Jeff Hardy can't do a damn thing to save you."

His voice was an unrecognizable growl, but there was something else in it; something that sent an icy chill down the Dominant Diva's spine. Something that sounded almost like…satisfaction. "No one can."

"What do you mean by that?" Melina whispered. When she received no answer, her voice rose, and she hated how shrill and helpless it sounded. "What do you mean by that?"

"Everything okay over here?"

For a second, the paparazzi princess felt hope bloom through her like a flower stretching toward the sun - and in the next second, felt it evaporate as she recognized the owner of the voice. She drew in a shuddering breath, turning around as Rated RKO approached them. Melina gritted her teeth, tilting her chin up and forcing herself not to show any further emotion to the Tag Team Champions. As usual, Edge was smirking; Randy just looked bored.

"Hey guys!" Just hearing Nitro's tone abruptly flip from hostile to friendly made the Dominant Diva's blood run cold. Had he truly always been like this; able to switch emotions on and off as the situation required? "Thanks for the assist out there." He extended his hand; both the Legend Killer and the Rated R Superstar looked down at it, and then back up at him, as if to say: What are you DOING? Nitro, realizing that any show of camaraderie was not forthcoming, dropped his hand back to his side, clearing his throat to cover up the awkward moment. "Couldn't have pulled it off without you."

"Yeah, well, Randy and I weren't exactly thrilled about putting our titles on the line just so you could make an entrance," Edge retorted.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the self-proclaimed A-lister replied soothingly. "Everybody got what they wanted tonight, right? You guys are still champions, you came out looking legit against the Hardy Boyz, and as for me–" Melina felt his fingers slip around her upper arms, squeezing so hard she swore she could feel the skin bruise. "-let's just say that I started the clock ticking on what remains of Jeff Hardy's pitiful career."

"Just so you know, though," Randy interjected, his tone indicating that he remained largely unimpressed by Nitro's hyperbole. "We might have been on the same side tonight - but after this, you're on your own." His soulless azure eyes, however, remained locked on Melina as he said this, leaving the paparazzi princess to wonder which of them that last statement had really been directed at.

Eventually, the Legend Killer broke eye contact, swinging his gaze back toward Nitro. His lips curled up a smile - but it was just a bit too empty to be little more than a rictus grin. "Guess we'll be seeing you around…champ." He nodded his head toward Edge, and with that, both members of Rated RKO walked away.

Part of Melina wanted to run after them; to scream and cry and beg them to help her. But she knew that it was the lizard brain part of her that was running purely on desperation and self-preservation. After what had transpired in the ring, the Tag Team Champions were the last people who would come to her aid - hell, Randy would frog-march her back to Nitro simply so he could watch what happened next.

They couldn't help her. No one could.

Which brought her back to her original question. Steeling herself, the Dominant Diva turned back around, squeezing her fist so tight that her nails dug into her palm as she forced herself to look Nitro in the eyes. "What did you mean by no one can save me?"

Slowly, deliberately, without breaking eye contact, the former Intercontinental Champion reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a folded sheaf of papers and handing it to Melina. Puzzled, the paparazzi princess unfolded it, turning around to read it, squinting as she struggled to scan the print in the dim light. Her eyes abruptly widened in horror as the full and awful comprehension of what she was looking at crashed over her, and she read it again. And again. And again, hoping wildly with each subsequent reread that this was wrong, that this was a mistake, that this wasn't happening—

No…no no no no no…"

"See, I met with Mr. McMahon today," Nitro explained. "and I told him that, in light of your recent…behavior…I was understandably concerned that you might not have my best interests at heart anymore - and more than that, you might even go so far as to take your services elsewhere."

Melina didn't answer - she could barely hear him over the panic clanging through her head like an alarm bell. Her heart was racing, threatening to explode out of her chest, and she was having trouble drawing in breath.

No no no no no…

"What you're looking at," Nitro continued, his tone gleeful - it was clear that he'd been waiting all day to make this announcement. "is a contract ensuing my exclusive access to your managerial services." The way he drawled out "services" hinted at a broad and disgusting interpretation of the term. "In short - I own you. You're mine now."

The Dominant Diva couldn't move, couldn't speak, could barely even breathe. Her body was going into a kind of shock, and she could feel her senses narrowing to a small window of awareness, Nitro's voice sounding like it was coming from miles away. The self-proclaimed A-lister moved a little closer, reaching up to gently run his index finger along the length of her neck, and Melina was unable to suppress a shiver of disgust. "What you do in and out of the ring, who you talk to, what matches you wrestle - it all goes through me. Hell, if I want you to accompany me to the ring wearing nothing but fishnets and pasties, this piece of paper gives me the power to do it. The only reason you exist in this company is for the benefit of my career, and if I see you doing anything other than just that–"

His fingers slid over her throat, closing over her windpipe with just enough pressure to remind her that they were there. "-I'll end yours."

At this, Melina let out a soft gasp, squeezing her eyes shut as a tear slid down her cheek. The former Intercontinental Champion went on relentlessly. "If I see you helping that loser, you're fired. If I see him trying to help you, you're fired. In fact, if I see you doing anything that's not making me the top Superstar in this company—I'll bury you so deep they won't even remember your name."

He squeezed harder. "I'm going to be Champion again - and you're going to help me."

"You can't–" Melina finally found her voice, hating how small and weak it sounded. "You can't do this - you can't force me to help you beat him–"

Nitro yanked her around, grabbing her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forcing her to look at him. "Did you really not hear the part about how this piece of paper says I can do whatever I want to you?" He plucked the contract from her with his free hand, tucking it back inside his jacket. "You're going to help me destroy Jeff Hardy…or I'm going to destroy you. Understand?"

The paparazzi princess didn't answer. Nitro tightened his grip, his thumb pressing painfully against her jawbone. "I said - do you understand?"

Melina stared up at him, finally spitting the word out in a hate-filled whisper. "...Yes."

Nitro's face relaxed, easing back into the confident megawatt grin he usually wore to the ring. "Good." He patted her cheek gently, almost patronizingly; the way you would a small child who has just answered the question correctly. "Now - get in the car." He gestured with one arm at the rental vehicle parked a few yards away.

The Dominant Diva didn't move; merely glowered at him with that terrified baleful expression, like a trapped animal who hasn't yet fully accepted that the bars surrounded them on all sides. Fury flickered over Nitro's handsome features once more, and he jabbed his finger toward the vehicle. "Get. In the fucking. Car."

Melina stared at him a moment longer, then finally, grudgingly, moved toward the passenger side of the sedan.

From their own vehicle parked nearby, Rated RKO watched the scene unfold with bemused interest.

"You know," Randy remarked mildly, as though he was commenting on which sports teams were playing that weekend. "You have to hand it to the guy - for all his flaws, he does have a flair for presentation."

"That may be true," Edge retorted. "And maybe if he wasn't also out of his fucking mind and constantly watching Fear on a loop, he'd actually be of some use to us." His eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, his features softening as he acknowledged the red-haired figure sitting silently in the backseat. "Leets, you okay? You know you didn't need to come tonight - I know you're still salty about losing the belt to Mickie last night."

"Yeah," the Legend Killer cut in, turning around in his seat to face the Queen of Hardcore. "I mean, it's a shame that when Trish left, she got to end her career on a high note, beating you for the title in her hometown, while you got to end yours with no belt watching Cryme Tyme throw your underwear into the crowd–"

Lita listened to Randy's backhanded consolation with a neutral expression, with only the slightest flicker in her brown eyes indicating that she was less than thrilled to be receiving it. The former World Heavyweight Champion went on. "-but on the other hand, unlike Edge and me, you actually get to go home."

"Actually," the Rated R Diva interjected, her alto voice casual. "I was just thinking that I might hang around a little longer. I mean, the wording on my contract says that I'm still technically employed through the end of the year, so as long as I hang back and don't appear on camera—"

She leaned forward, stretching out both arms over the front seats to encircle her teammates' shoulders. "Besides - you know how restless I get. You know I always like being on the road more than sitting alone at home."

"Yeah, but–" Edge remarked doubtfully. "Don't get me wrong, Leets, I love having you here…but you can't wrestle, you can't accompany us to the ring - aren't you going to get bored just sitting around backstage?"

"Oh, don't worry about me…" Lita replied, squeezing her boyfriend's shoulder affectionately. Her gaze, however, was fixed on the view beyond their windshield; on the petite figure of Melina as she stood motionless, half in and half out of Nitro's rental car. The Dominant Diva gripped the car door with both hands, staring back toward the distant outline of the arena with an expression on her face that could only be described as utter devastation.

The Queen of Hardcore's eyes narrowed. "...I have a few ideas on how to occupy my time…"