Hey, y'all. It's me again, Akila, the Akila of BlazerAkila. He.
Here's a story for you! Companion to "The Way It Should Be." Little
stories, I like. This one, though, probably isn't one of my better ones.
Flames are accepted. Constructive critism! Thanx.
All We Have
I looked out the window. It was quiet day, barely anybody on the street. A solitary leaf floated slowly to the ground. I sighed restlessly. Too quiet. Very, very, very quiet.
I got up and limped to the kitchen, dragging my foot along. My head pounded at even the slight movement. Man, Taker had gotten his beating in well. For respect. Ha. He had my respect before he had to kick my ass. Not to mention Amy's.
Amy. Lita. That girl's like a sister to me. The sister I never had. I loved her, in a brotherly fashion. Not like my brother. Matt loved her as girlfriend.
My brother. I sighed just thinking about it. My brother. My big, mean brother.
Ever since he had turned on me, started blaming me for every match we lost, I had wondered where it had sprung up from. Had it been me? Or was it just him?
I did mess up. I messed up alot. The match at Survivor Series had proven that. Matt was right. If it had not been for me, we would have won that match. Gone down in the books as the greatest tag team in history. But we had not.
Now, because of me, Team Extreme was breaking up.
Or that was how Matt put it. Every little error was my fault. My fucking fault.
Yeah. Alright. It is my fault. Lots of things are my fault. I don't deny it. I take the blame. Oh, but not my brother Matt. Not my big, perfect brother Matt. He was perfect. We won because of him. He saved me from humilation. I should be on my knees, kissing his feet.
I snorted. Matt is too stuck-up for his own good. He dosen't know how to handle the truth. Yeah, okay, I made my mistakes. He made his own, too. But no. He can't admit that. It'll destroy his image, his perfect image.
It's a sickening thing. I love my brother. I love him very much. But I hate him. I hate him. He can't bring himself to admit I'm right and he's wrong. That he had caused the breakup of our wonderful team. His attitude, his fiercely proud attitude had lead to the fall of one of the greatest teams in all of history.
He had led to the breakup of the greatest brothers in all of history.
WEDNESDAY
The phone rang. I picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Jeff?"
It's Jim Ross's voice. I relaxed. JR a good old guy.
"Hi JR. What's up?"
"Did your brother call you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Like he would. You know he hates me, JR."
"I guess." He paused shortly, gulped, and went on. "He dosen't hate you."
"Sure," I inturrupted.
"Listen before I hang up, Jeff. This is very important." He sounded impatient. I shut my mouth. "Last night was the taping of Smackdown!, you know that." Tell me something I don't know. "Do you know who Matt fought last night?"
"No."
"He fought Taker, Jeff. He requested a match with Taker."
My breath sucked in.
"I'm guessing you don't know what happened then." Oh, God, please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. "He got hurt. He got very hurt. He had to be rushed to the hospital."
"Is he. . okay?" I could barely choke out the words.
"He's doing fine, I hear. His voicebox got damaged badly. He's not going to be able to talk for awhile. You know why? Taker took a chair, put it under his throat, and slammed it down. Think about that, Jeff."
I pictured it too clearly. My throat constricted.
"What else?" I whispered.
"He's beaten badly, Jeff. Very badly. I don't know. He'll take a few weeks to recover. Do you know why he was in that match?"
"Yes."
"For you." Bastard. I said yes. "For you. To avenge you and Amy."
"I know."
"Think about it."
"I know. Thanks."
I put the phone back in its cradle. I closed my eyes in pain. Not Matt. Not Matt. Not my Matt. Not my brother. Why? Why? Why?
I hated him. He hated me. No way. No way. He couldn't. He blamed me for everything. Every single thing, he blamed on me.
Now he was trying to get even with Taker. To show him he had not beaten me. To show Taker we respected him, but would not take no for an answer.
I limped soundlessly to the living room and collasped on the couch. I stared straight.
Matt. Why?
I rubbed my head. Okay. Think.
Matt. . .my brother. I choked. I had seen the rage in his eyes when I had covered him at Vengence. I had seen the fury in his eyes when he saw me in the hallways. He hated me.
But now, why did he try to redeem me?
The Undertaker was a powerful enemy. Nobody in their right mind would challenge him willingly. Yet my brother had. He had fought a match against the toughest in the business. Taker was a man on a quest for respect. I had seen that too many times before. When you want respect, you're mad. You're crazy. You only think about winning it, and if necessary, beating it out of people.
Matt had challenged that craziness.
Matt Hardy had challenged the Undertaker to a match. Matt had lost. Taker had triumphed. My brother had taken pains for his trying.
Oh. Oh. This was too complicated.
I closed my eyes again in pain. I allowed my feelings to find their dark way out of me. I whimpered. Yes. I did believe everything Matt had told me. Deep in the corners of my heart, I had believed every little thing he said. His word about my mistakes. That I was the reason Team Extreme lost their matches every time. I had believed him. I had stood back and let my brother tell me where my errors were.
It's pitiful. I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes. I, Jeff Hardy, extremist, wild, crazy, had believed the words my brother had told me. That I was not better than anybody else. That I was weaker. That my thirst for glory was the will of weakness.
My mind ran over what he had told me. That I only lived for adrenaline. I was an addict on it. It was all I thought about. I was blinded by my conquest to achieve it. That I was weak, weak because that was all that kept me going.
Cruel. Cruel. But denial is also a sign of weakness, he had replied. That's unfair. Life is't fair, he had answered. I don't care. If you don't care, he had responded, it means you're even weaker.
I believed it. I believed every single word of it.
I was weak. I was pitiful. I was a crazy lunatic who didn't know life from a dream.
Yet. . .
Yet. . .
Matt had gone and tried to avenge me.
Matt had faced Taker for my honor.
Matt had tried to teach Taker a lesson for my sake.
I blinked back tears. He had eaten his words. Now who was the one high for a moment? Who?
But. . .
Maybe. . .
He loved me. Plain and simple. That was the reason.
Cruel love. To show me.
Or maybe. . .
Amy had suggested it pitifully after he started fighting with me.
"Maybe he's doing it to keep you from hurting yourself."
It didn't make sense. Didn't he see it hurt me? That he was slowly ripping me apart?
"It'll discourage you."
If anything, it made me more crazy. It drove me to be perfect. But, in that single mind frame, I had made more mistakes than I had in my whole lifetime.
"Think about it Jeff."
I opened my eyes and blurrily the den came into view.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Matt did love me. He didn't hate me. Amy's words drove into my heart. It made perfect, clear sense now. I saw Matt's logic. If it was true.
I sucked in my breath.
My hate had dissolved the moment JR had said Matt had been seriously injured. Only worry had filled me. That was a sign.
I remembered Matt's worry filled eyes so long ago when I had been hurt. I remembered his eyes after the Survivor Series, fury and tinted with relief. After Vengence. Fury, rage, colored slightly with relief.
Amy's words were true. He only did what he did to keep me from hurting myself. It was the only reason.
I bounced up. I looked as another leaf floated slowly to the ground.
Time turned slowly. But it turned fast too.
I smiled. It didn't matter now what had happened earlier. All that mattered was now. Now was all I should think about it. I did a quick calculation. Matt would probably come here, too, to North Carolina to recover.
Amy would be waiting for him. So would I.
All that mattered was now. Live for the moment. Our team had been disbanded by confused feelings. I still had confused feelings. But now was the time to sort them.
It takes time. But time is all we have.
All We Have
I looked out the window. It was quiet day, barely anybody on the street. A solitary leaf floated slowly to the ground. I sighed restlessly. Too quiet. Very, very, very quiet.
I got up and limped to the kitchen, dragging my foot along. My head pounded at even the slight movement. Man, Taker had gotten his beating in well. For respect. Ha. He had my respect before he had to kick my ass. Not to mention Amy's.
Amy. Lita. That girl's like a sister to me. The sister I never had. I loved her, in a brotherly fashion. Not like my brother. Matt loved her as girlfriend.
My brother. I sighed just thinking about it. My brother. My big, mean brother.
Ever since he had turned on me, started blaming me for every match we lost, I had wondered where it had sprung up from. Had it been me? Or was it just him?
I did mess up. I messed up alot. The match at Survivor Series had proven that. Matt was right. If it had not been for me, we would have won that match. Gone down in the books as the greatest tag team in history. But we had not.
Now, because of me, Team Extreme was breaking up.
Or that was how Matt put it. Every little error was my fault. My fucking fault.
Yeah. Alright. It is my fault. Lots of things are my fault. I don't deny it. I take the blame. Oh, but not my brother Matt. Not my big, perfect brother Matt. He was perfect. We won because of him. He saved me from humilation. I should be on my knees, kissing his feet.
I snorted. Matt is too stuck-up for his own good. He dosen't know how to handle the truth. Yeah, okay, I made my mistakes. He made his own, too. But no. He can't admit that. It'll destroy his image, his perfect image.
It's a sickening thing. I love my brother. I love him very much. But I hate him. I hate him. He can't bring himself to admit I'm right and he's wrong. That he had caused the breakup of our wonderful team. His attitude, his fiercely proud attitude had lead to the fall of one of the greatest teams in all of history.
He had led to the breakup of the greatest brothers in all of history.
WEDNESDAY
The phone rang. I picked it up.
"Hello?"
"Jeff?"
It's Jim Ross's voice. I relaxed. JR a good old guy.
"Hi JR. What's up?"
"Did your brother call you?"
I rolled my eyes. "Like he would. You know he hates me, JR."
"I guess." He paused shortly, gulped, and went on. "He dosen't hate you."
"Sure," I inturrupted.
"Listen before I hang up, Jeff. This is very important." He sounded impatient. I shut my mouth. "Last night was the taping of Smackdown!, you know that." Tell me something I don't know. "Do you know who Matt fought last night?"
"No."
"He fought Taker, Jeff. He requested a match with Taker."
My breath sucked in.
"I'm guessing you don't know what happened then." Oh, God, please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. "He got hurt. He got very hurt. He had to be rushed to the hospital."
"Is he. . okay?" I could barely choke out the words.
"He's doing fine, I hear. His voicebox got damaged badly. He's not going to be able to talk for awhile. You know why? Taker took a chair, put it under his throat, and slammed it down. Think about that, Jeff."
I pictured it too clearly. My throat constricted.
"What else?" I whispered.
"He's beaten badly, Jeff. Very badly. I don't know. He'll take a few weeks to recover. Do you know why he was in that match?"
"Yes."
"For you." Bastard. I said yes. "For you. To avenge you and Amy."
"I know."
"Think about it."
"I know. Thanks."
I put the phone back in its cradle. I closed my eyes in pain. Not Matt. Not Matt. Not my Matt. Not my brother. Why? Why? Why?
I hated him. He hated me. No way. No way. He couldn't. He blamed me for everything. Every single thing, he blamed on me.
Now he was trying to get even with Taker. To show him he had not beaten me. To show Taker we respected him, but would not take no for an answer.
I limped soundlessly to the living room and collasped on the couch. I stared straight.
Matt. Why?
I rubbed my head. Okay. Think.
Matt. . .my brother. I choked. I had seen the rage in his eyes when I had covered him at Vengence. I had seen the fury in his eyes when he saw me in the hallways. He hated me.
But now, why did he try to redeem me?
The Undertaker was a powerful enemy. Nobody in their right mind would challenge him willingly. Yet my brother had. He had fought a match against the toughest in the business. Taker was a man on a quest for respect. I had seen that too many times before. When you want respect, you're mad. You're crazy. You only think about winning it, and if necessary, beating it out of people.
Matt had challenged that craziness.
Matt Hardy had challenged the Undertaker to a match. Matt had lost. Taker had triumphed. My brother had taken pains for his trying.
Oh. Oh. This was too complicated.
I closed my eyes again in pain. I allowed my feelings to find their dark way out of me. I whimpered. Yes. I did believe everything Matt had told me. Deep in the corners of my heart, I had believed every little thing he said. His word about my mistakes. That I was the reason Team Extreme lost their matches every time. I had believed him. I had stood back and let my brother tell me where my errors were.
It's pitiful. I squeezed my eyes shut. Yes. I, Jeff Hardy, extremist, wild, crazy, had believed the words my brother had told me. That I was not better than anybody else. That I was weaker. That my thirst for glory was the will of weakness.
My mind ran over what he had told me. That I only lived for adrenaline. I was an addict on it. It was all I thought about. I was blinded by my conquest to achieve it. That I was weak, weak because that was all that kept me going.
Cruel. Cruel. But denial is also a sign of weakness, he had replied. That's unfair. Life is't fair, he had answered. I don't care. If you don't care, he had responded, it means you're even weaker.
I believed it. I believed every single word of it.
I was weak. I was pitiful. I was a crazy lunatic who didn't know life from a dream.
Yet. . .
Yet. . .
Matt had gone and tried to avenge me.
Matt had faced Taker for my honor.
Matt had tried to teach Taker a lesson for my sake.
I blinked back tears. He had eaten his words. Now who was the one high for a moment? Who?
But. . .
Maybe. . .
He loved me. Plain and simple. That was the reason.
Cruel love. To show me.
Or maybe. . .
Amy had suggested it pitifully after he started fighting with me.
"Maybe he's doing it to keep you from hurting yourself."
It didn't make sense. Didn't he see it hurt me? That he was slowly ripping me apart?
"It'll discourage you."
If anything, it made me more crazy. It drove me to be perfect. But, in that single mind frame, I had made more mistakes than I had in my whole lifetime.
"Think about it Jeff."
I opened my eyes and blurrily the den came into view.
Yes.
Yes.
Yes.
Matt did love me. He didn't hate me. Amy's words drove into my heart. It made perfect, clear sense now. I saw Matt's logic. If it was true.
I sucked in my breath.
My hate had dissolved the moment JR had said Matt had been seriously injured. Only worry had filled me. That was a sign.
I remembered Matt's worry filled eyes so long ago when I had been hurt. I remembered his eyes after the Survivor Series, fury and tinted with relief. After Vengence. Fury, rage, colored slightly with relief.
Amy's words were true. He only did what he did to keep me from hurting myself. It was the only reason.
I bounced up. I looked as another leaf floated slowly to the ground.
Time turned slowly. But it turned fast too.
I smiled. It didn't matter now what had happened earlier. All that mattered was now. Now was all I should think about it. I did a quick calculation. Matt would probably come here, too, to North Carolina to recover.
Amy would be waiting for him. So would I.
All that mattered was now. Live for the moment. Our team had been disbanded by confused feelings. I still had confused feelings. But now was the time to sort them.
It takes time. But time is all we have.