"Where is he!?"

Chris Jericho tore the backstage area apart looking for the Wyatts. He shoved open every door in sight, hunted through each locker room, each shower area. Cut around every corner, peered down every corridor. Even on the outside he made a brisk walk, passing by fans who wanted autographs and high-fives and selfies. He had no time for them. He had to find the Wyatts.

But they were gone. Disappeared into the abyss, it seemed, like ghosts.

"Dammit," Chris muttered, jaw locked. How dare these assholes. How dare they. What did they want with AJ, huh? What had he ever done to them? He didn't deserve that attack.

AJ might have been a cocky, prideful, attention-stealing punk but he didn't deserve to suffer like that. Especially for no reason.

Chris made his third trip around the entire arena before giving up. No, wrong choice of words—changing his strategy. He'd never give up on this search. He'd give the Wyatts hell for hurting his AJ.

His…

AJ. Just AJ.

He had another idea. He wasn't thrilled about it, but this might have been his only chance at tracking these buffoons down.

Chris returned to the locker room. It was more crowded now, yet of course without the Wyatts and AJ. Instead he found just who he was looking for across the floor. Two men very familiar with the Wyatts' antics.

"Dean," Chris said, huffing. He was exhausted from his run. "Roman. Hey."

Neither superstar looked terribly thrilled to see him. Chris supposed he couldn't blame them, after what had happened over the summer.

"What?" Dean asked.

"Did you see what happened?" Chris jerked a thumb towards the door. "Out there? Just now?"

"You had a match with AJ," Roman stated. "Right?"

"The Wyatts…they came in in the middle of it…threw me aside and knocked AJ out, took him away…"

"Of course they did," Roman soughed. It shouldn't have surprised him but Chris would have appreciated a little more sympathy.

"I need your help," he said through clinched teeth. "I have to find them. I need to get AJ back."

"Thought you guys weren't a thing anymore," Dean mocked.

Chris had a short fuse. "I know what I said! I'm not the asshole here, alright? I'm not the bad guy. I've been petty, sure, and I've screwed up, but…" He scraped a hand over his sweating face. He didn't have to explain himself…did he? Really? "Look, I don't have time to wonder what this means for Y2AJ…"

"Oh, I think we already know what it means."

Chris would have smacked Dean to the floor if he wasn't desperate. He tried a change of approach. "Ambrose. Reigns. Please. I'm…I'm begging you. Please." Pleading for help was an insult to such a proud man but the sooner he got them on board, the sooner AJ could be saved. "I can't…I won't let them hurt him. Bray Wyatt's hurt you both before and I know the two of you didn't stand for it when it was each other. Feel me. Help a guy out. Please."

Dean and Roman stared one another down. Chris had hit something, he was sure of it, bringing up the past. Dean and Roman would kill for each other. And if Chris had to kill for AJ, so be it.

I'm not a bad guy. I'm just…I'm just me.

"Did you check your phone yet?" Dean asked.

"I—what?" Chris asked. "Check my phone?"

"Yeah. See if Wyatt hasn't told you himself where he's stashing AJ."

"Why would he…"

"Bray Wyatt loves to play mind games," Roman said, understanding where his partner was going. "Trust me. We know of everyone. If he just wanted AJ, he'd tuck himself into a dark corner and make himself unknown. If he wanted you, he figures the best way to get your attention is nabbing Styles."

"Me? Why would he want me? I haven't done anything to him." Recently, anyway.

"Why would he want AJ?" Dean raised, shrugging his shoulders with extended hands. "We don't know. We don't know what the hell's going through his head. Nobody ever does, I don't think, ever. But check your phone. That's step one. If you haven't heard from him, then it's suddenly more urgent. And we'll find a way to track him down."

"Why would that make it more urgent?" Chris was already on the way to his locker, where he'd left all his belongings on his wild search for AJ. His phone was in his duffle bag.

"Because if he's after you, he's not gonna waste AJ yet. There's still time. Dead leverage ain't very effective, y'know?" Roman asked. "And if he's not after you…"

Chris didn't want to think on it. He drew his phone from the front pocket.

"Son of a bitch," he said at the screen.

"'You have one new message'?" Dean voiced.

Chris showed them the single message in his inbox. A photo of AJ, shackled to a dark brick wall, slugged over like he was deep in slumber…or…no, no, no, he's not, he can't be, he isn't…

"Shit, what an asshole," Dean said.

"My God…" Roman breathed.

Urgent was right.

Beneath the daunting photo was an address and a single line of text.

ARE YOU OVER IT?

Chris looked helplessly at Roman, then Dean. They were looking at each other again. Chris could see a plan etching in their eyes.

"What do you think, Ro?"

"I think it's Wyatt season," Roman answered.

AJ screamed.

Bray Wyatt's touch was so cold it burned his skin like fire. No amount of quaking, wrenching or begging could get Wyatt nor his paranormal ability to cease. Thrice now had Bray tortured him this way, by simply by pressing his palm to AJ's forehead. AJ could literally feel the fear, the darkness, amplifying him. Drowning him.

"Please!" AJ howled. "Stop! You son of a bitch, stop!"

"Submit," Bray coerced.

"NO!" AJ might have been terrorized to bits and pieces but he wasn't an idiot. He didn't want to join the Wyatts. He wouldn't. "N-NO! NEVER! I WON'T!"

"You sound so sure of yourself," Bray mocked.

He pulled his hand away from AJ, leaving him to twitch and jerk in his bondage. His breathing quickened, sharpened like he was hyperventilating.

"Test him," Bray said. "Treat him", AJ learned, meant a beating. "Test him" meant…

"Boo!" Luke Harper cried, hands in the air. It made AJ flinch. He'd known it was coming and he still cringed.

"This is wonderful," Bray praised himself. "This is truly a masterpiece. You know what it's like to live in constant fear. Even your own thoughts are tormenting you, aren't they? Considering where you are, who you're with, all that's happening. It's eating you up. It's eating you alive. You're screaming. You're suffering."

AJ wouldn't deny any of those accusations. Even closing his eyes produced images far scarier than what he was seeing in this room. He couldn't shut it out. Monsters in the closet creeping up to snatch him. Demons breaking free from hell. His own thoughts. The men before him.

"Don't you want it to stop?"

"FUCK YOU!" AJ shrieked. He quaked like a leaf caught in a breeze but he hadn't cried. He refused to cry; he didn't care how much fear Bray pumped into him.

"Very good…I'd get upset at your opposition, but it's truly impressing me." Bray slipped a hand underneath AJ's chin, elevating his head. "But you know you can't take much more of this."

"Fuck you." It was all he had going for him. His defiance. He didn't care what Bray said: his resistance was infuriating. Bray was pissed that he wouldn't "submit." The praises were just a guise.

AJ dipped his head back, leaning it against the wall, using gravity to keep his eyes dry, tears held back. Nope. No tears. No crying. Absolutely not. He was weakened but he was not done fighting. How long would he have to fight, though? How long until someone noticed he was gone…?

His abduction had been witnessed by millions. Surely someone had taken note, set to work on getting him the hell out of here…

Bray Wyatt stood up. Backed off. AJ knew what was coming before he spoke the words: "Treat him."

"Wyatt family."

The familiar voice, even the words spoken in an accustomed monotonous chant, gave AJ chills. He couldn't even be relieved to hear Chris Jericho's voice. He was incapable of feeling nothing but fear. Maybe it was in his head. Maybe he was going nuts.

"Wyatt family, Wyatt family, Wyatt family, Wyatt family…"

Nope. Definitely real.

Bray Wyatt stared at the door, then peered at his brothers.

"CHRIS!" AJ wailed. "CHRIS! IN HERE! GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE!"

"That's right," Bray encouraged, soft-spoken. "Call him forth…"

AJ shut his mouth. Bray wanted Chris to find his way in here?

Was…was he expecting Chris?

He sure didn't look surprised by that voice…

AJ gasped, realizing what was going on. "WAIT, NO! CHRIS! DON'T, IT'S A—"

A colossal kick from the outside nearly brought the door off its hinges. AJ wasn't even sure it was locked. They might as well have opened it for him if this was all just a snare…

Chris Jericho slipped through the opening, positioning himself front and center. His hands were fists at his sides. He stared each of the Wyatts down, down, down.

Maybe the Wyatts were expecting Chris, but AJ sure hadn't.

What was he doing here?

"I guess that's a no," Bray Wyatt said, speaking an answer to a question Chris knew but AJ didn't. "Not even a little."

"Piss off, Bray," Chris barked. "I hear you, alright? I got your message, and I'm here to stop you."

"Stop me?" Bray laughed. "My boy, the night has just begun."

"You have me, alright? Isn't that what you wanted? Had to use AJ to get me into an ambush? It's so trite. But it worked, okay? It worked. So just let AJ go, and you can have me." He lifted two hands in faux defense. He was intentionally unarmed. Nothing to worry about. Roman and Dean were on this case. They were safe. AJ was safe.

AJ was also twitching visibly, and Chris picked up on it. Narrowing his eyes, he said, "Did you drug him?"

Bray's face kindled in the dark. "No, no I didn't…he's just afraid of what I might do to you."

AJ's convulsions only worsened when Bray stepped closer to Chris.

"Bray—"

Harper, Rowan, and Strowman joined their leader in a half-circle around Chris. This was to be expected. Chris was willing to risk a little pain to pull this rescue plan off.

"Did you come alone?" Bray asked.

"Yes," Chris said firmly. Roman and Dean were on their way. They'd planned to come separate to decrease the chances of getting caught. Chris had to make sure AJ was safe before executing a rescue mission. "Your message didn't exactly read 'open invite.'"

Bray looked to Strowman. "Check the perimeter. Make sure we don't have company."

Wordlessly, Strowman nodded, and he disappeared from the basement-turned-dungeon. He's a sick puppy, Chris thought.

Rowan and Harper watched Chris while Bray turned to face AJ. "Remember what I said about non-fears becoming fears…fears becoming living nightmares, pet? Let's see what happens when I drag your worst fear of all out to play…"

Chris had no idea what the hell he was talking about, but he hadn't an idea of anything when Rowan slugged him in the stomach. He wrestled against the two of them until they had him against the wall, pinning him, striking him down. He lost momentum when Harper pinned his elbows to the bricks and Rowan shot his knuckles into Chris's abdomen so hard, so many times, he thought he might hurl.

"Get away from him!" AJ screamed, flaying in the restraints. "Leave him alone! Do you hear me!? I said leave him alone!"

This wasn't so bad…it hurt, sure, but Chris could take it, he could bear…it was AJ's full-blown panic that freaked him out. He'd lost his cool like he'd never had it to start. Why was he so afraid?

What the hell had Bray done to him?

Unless…watching Chris get beaten like this truly was his greatest fear…

Harper released his grip on Chris, and he slumped to the floor, landing on his hands. Bray Wyatt pinched his hair between his fingers and forced his head up, his angered gaze deep into Bray's.

"You think this was all for your benefit, Jericho?" Bray asked. His breath on Chris's neck made him grimace. "You think I give a damn about you? That this is all about you? You really are a selfish bastard, aren't you?"

Chris growled.

Bray ambled towards the chained AJ. Harper and Rowan shoved Chris forward, nearly making him crawl until he was only feet away from his partner. His arms were held back as AJ's had been much earlier. AJ's face was void of color. His eyes were twice their normal…beautiful…size out of their sockets. He heaved against his chains.

"Bray…"

Chris closed his eyes at the sound of a switchblade popping out, shedding the air in its opening. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I wasn't ready for this…anytime now, Dean, Roman, come on… He hoped to God they hadn't been caught by Strowman.

"No!" AJ hollered.

"This is all about you, AJ," Bray spoke. "Your friend Jericho has helped me out tremendously tonight."

Great. If I hadn't shown up, AJ would be okay. More okay, if I wasn't here. The pawn wasn't him: the pawn was me.

Chris opened his eyes. "You don't do anything they tell you, you hear me, Styles?" he asked. "I don't care what they want…I don't care what they do to me, as long as they—"

Bray pressed the blade to his neck with just enough pressure to break the skin. Chris interrupted himself with a low cry of pain, squeezing his eyes shut. A drop of blood surged from the nick, skimming down his skin.

AJ lost his mind…once more, acting as though he never had it in the first place. He thrashed madly in the chains, howling even louder than Chris. "Stop! Just stop it! Don't you touch him!"

"You want it to stop?" Bray asked lightly. "You know what I want, AJ…"

He touched the blade to Chris's jugular. "Shall I make him my sacrifice?"

"No! Okay, okay, okay, I'll do it, I'll do it, just stop. Please." AJ was trembling, voice breaking. Salty tears skated from his eyes down both bruised cheeks now. "Please."

"You can't take it anymore?"

AJ shook his head violently. "No. No, I can't."

"Why not?"

AJ sniveled, not answering, watching Chris vulnerably. Chris watched back, biting his lip. I'm sorry I did this to you.

"I said…" Bray grabbed Chris's head, yanked it back so his bare neck was completely exposed, and situated the knife as though he'd drag it straight across the throat.

AJ broke. "BECAUSE I LOVE HIM, OKAY? Alright!? Because I love him." His eyes were glazed in a fine layer of moisture. He couldn't take them off Chris. This mien on him hurt Chris more than the knife ever could. "Fuck you, Bray. Let him go and I'll do it."

Chris swallowed hard. His own tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes. What did he just say…

"Ah…yes," Bray groaned, like he was turned on by AJ's defeat. "That's my pet. That's a good boy, Styles." Fear can be so magnificent sometimes. It brings about honesty." He turned toward his partners. "Luke. Go get the key. We have to do this right. Erick, you watch him, now." He waved at Chris. "Make sure he doesn't go anywhere."

Erick bobbed his head. Luke crossed the floor towards the door, leaving Chris under Erick's watch.

"What are you doing?" Chris demanded. "What the hell are you doing to him?"

AJ's head drooped so Chris could no longer see his face. This was making him nervous. Where in the hell are you guys…!?

Luke pulled the door open.

Dean Ambrose stood there. Brandishing Mick Foley's gift to him from the other night, Barbie herself.

"Hey there."

Dean smashed the bat into the side of Luke's skull. He was out before his body hit the floor.

"Christ!" Rowan roared. He released Jericho in his surprise, but Chris didn't get too far. Bray Wyatt roped him into a hold and brandished his knife again.

"Drop it," he barked. "Or I cut his throat."

But Dean merely jutted his bottom lip out. "Hmm. Tiny-ass little pocketknife, or big-ass baseball bat covered in barbed wire? Rock, paper, scissors…"

Dean flung the bat at Bray. He dropped Jericho, lifting an arm to shield himself. The bat struck his arm, and he yelped. Chris took advantage and sprung on him, chopping blow after blow after blow into Bray. "Take this, you son of a bitch!" he shouted.

Rowan tried to come to Bray's aid but Dean was on him in a second. He knocked Rowan into the wall, just beside AJ, drilling his elbow into Rowan's gut, making his fist collide with his nose. He took advantage of Rowan's stupefaction and, for the hell of it, Dirty Deeds'd him to the floor. His head smacked the hard floor on impact. He was out.

Chris and Bray grappled on. Dean recovered his baseball bat and aimed carefully so not to injure Chris. He jabbed the end of the bat into Bray's spine, and as Bray rolled onto his back, Dean jammed the end into his forehead. The goal was to incapacitate, not to kill, as badly as he wanted to some days…

Bray Wyatt was out.

Dean held Chris to his feet with the arm not clutching Barbie.

"Where's Roman?" Chris asked.

As if on cue, Roman shouted from upstairs, followed by a series of crashes and thumps as Braun Strowman's body toppled down the wooden steps. He hit the bottom floor with a disgusting thud. He made the mistake of informing Dean he was still conscious by shifting in place, trying to push up to his feet.

Dean waltzed over, whistling, and bopped Strowman just once in the head. Once was enough.

"Yeah, fucker," Dean laughed.

"Looking for this?" Roman asked, upholding a thick silver key. "Found it on the table upstairs. Figured it was for something."

Chris took the key from him. "Thanks." He trotted over to AJ, who hadn't spoken nor moved since the onslaught began. "AJ? Hey, you with me?"

Chris lifted AJ's head, but his eyes were shut as if sewn that way. His head slumped down again as Chris let it go.

"Oh, fuck…"

Chris fumbled to unlock AJ's chains. He had to get AJ the hell out of here. The chains hit the floor nosily, and Chris dropped the key and scooped the wilted AJ into his arms. "Come on, let's get the hell out of here…"

"Right," Dean said, twirling the bat in the air. "Unless anyone's up for nine innings?"

Roman confiscated the weapon. A wise decision. "We're done with this for now."

Chris carried AJ upstairs and out of the shabby house, Roman and Dean following behind. He made it just down the street, where Roman and Dean had stashed their rental car, when he collapsed to his knees in the middle of the desolate road. This neighborhood was practically barren, especially this late at night; nearly early in the morning. He couldn't go any further until he knew AJ was alright.

"Chris," Dean said.

"AJ? AJ, hey, can you hear me?" Chris shook him lightly. No response. He put his ear against AJ's chest. Through his jacket and tight t-shirt, he could perceive a heartbeat. Slow, but there. "AJ. AJ!"

AJ lifted his head slightly, whimpering. Chris supported his cranium in the bend of his arm. "AJ. Please. Wake up. Come on, I've got you…you're safe…"

"Mm—mm…"

"Huh?" Chris gasped. "What was that, AJ?"

"I'm…I'm so scared. I'm…I'm so…" He was quaking again. Chris tightened his grip on him.

"There's nothing to be afraid of anymore, AJ." He looked up at Roman and Dean like they could offer an explanation. "Bray did something to him. I don't know what…"

"Bray's a fucked-up whippersnapper," Dean said. "He might have tried one of his ritual things…"

"Fuck. I hate that guy…what the hell did he do to you, AJ…"

Roman squatted beside Chris. He touched the back of his hand to AJ's forehead. "He's freezing," Roman noted. "Whatever Bray did, it had some serious impact, physically and mentally."

Chris situated AJ atop his legs so he could strip from his jacket without dropping AJ to the street. He swathed AJ in the soft material, then enveloped him in his arms once more. "AJ, listen to me. You're safe. You're warm. I've got you. And I'm not leaving you again. You understand me? I'm sorry I was such a…a…well, a Y2-jackass. I got jealous and stupid. It was so wrong of me…I'm sorry, AJ, God, I'm sorry…" Chris pressed his hand behind AJ's neck and held him close to his own face.

"Scared…" AJ breathed, calmer.

Was this working?

"He's got all this fear in him, from whatever happened," Roman said. "But it's starting to go. Look, he's not shaking as badly."

"You gotta drive out the fear, man, that's it," Dean said, making a fist and punching his other hand.

"How the hell do I do that?"

"You seem to know. I think you know."

"Drive it out…with…what, love?" Chris asked, seeming appalled at the idea. "This isn't some Snow White shit out here."

"Worth a shot, if you want to save him," Roman stated. He'd never sounded more sincere in his life. "My love for Dean's gotten me both into and out of some pretty nasty shit."

"It's true," Dean affirmed. "I can attest."

This is so messed up… But Chris watched AJ "asleep" in his arms and sighed. Worth a shot. Guess he's right.

"AJ, you told Bray down there that you loved me…" he hummed. He used his thumb to push hair from AJ's damaged face. Still beautiful. So beautiful. "I want you to know, I need you to know…that God, AJ, man, I love you, too. Never stopped. Even when I was being a jackass, I still loved you. I can't. I can't lose you."

Chris pretended Dean and Roman weren't watching for the results. Nothing mattered in his world now except AJ Styles.

And saving him.

Chris moved AJ's head so their faces were fronting one another closely. He filled the space between them, heart drubbing against his ribcage, pressing his lips into AJ's.

What started as a stony, unreciprocated kiss blossomed into desire as Chris felt AJ kiss him back. It had worked, it was working, yet Chris didn't stop. He didn't want to. He lifted AJ to a sitting position without breaking romantic form, holding AJ's back so he wouldn't fall again. AJ's breath was warm on him. Chris opened his eyes, blissful to see AJ's as well, color restored to them.

He could only manage half a smile. "Fuck, it hurts…"

"What hurts?"

"Everything…"

"We gotta get you to a hospital," Dean said. "You too, Jericho. You're starting to bleed again, on your neck there."

Chris touched a finger to his wound and winced at the sting. It was nothing compared to AJ's physical suffering. "Are you alright?" He pulled his hands off AJ's back and helped him to his feet.

"I'm fine…but, damn, that was awful. It was like, suddenly I was afraid of literally everything. Even tiny, irrelevant shit like the dark and the air. He did some weird shit to me…"

"Are you still feeling it?"

"Yeah. A little. But it's not as bad. Getting away from him helped…getting you away from him helped…"

AJ took Chris's hand in a hold, their fingers braiding. "Don't ever let me see you like that again."

"Sure, 'cause that was all my doing."

AJ grinned. This smile was full, refurbished as his eyes. His spirit. It was getting there. Step by step.

"Oh, and you're welcome for saving you," Dean said. "Sure, it was our pleasure."

AJ chuckled. "Yeah. Thanks, Roman. Dean."

"I second that. I couldn't have done it without you guys," Chris said.

"Dean meant it. Our pleasure."

"Everybody gets one save from Barbie," Dean said, gesturing to Barbie, still in Roman's hand. Was he ever proud of that weapon. Proud of himself for obtaining it. "Now hospital. Let's go."

Chris snaked an arm around AJ's waist on the walk to the car. "I love you, AJ," he whispered past thick locks of brown hair.

"I love you, Chris," AJ stated, leaning his impaired body on Jericho, yet feeling better than he had all evening. "And as far as I'm concerned, Y2AJ is still a thing."