A/N: NEW CHAPTER! Yes, really! I swear I haven't forgotten or abandoned this story; I've just been insanely busy with work and other miscellany, but I am TRYING to remedy that, because the stories I write here are the only thing that keeps me sane. Also, just getting through this chapter was intense, both content-wise and that I did not realize it was going to be this long until I got down a rough version, saw the word count, and was like: "HOLY CRAP. THAT many?" Anyways, enough babbling from me - ENJOY! PEACE!

Thank you to wwefangal, R Lucas Spitfire, Guest, bellebea, FANOFJOLINARKO, MelinaJeff1, BigRedMachineUK, a walker to remember, markus, Deppfan, and RayNethonk65 for your reviews! I love you ALL! PEACE!

Chapter 29: A World of Pain

I'm going to hurt him...

Melina gingerly sank down onto the edge of the king-sized hotel bed, wincing as she did so. The section of abdomen just under her rib cage where Nitro had sucker-punched her wasn't bruised, but it was swollen and still tender to the touch; just sucking in a deep enough breath was enough to make her gasp in pain.

She and Jeff had left the Wachovia Center before the pay-per-view had ended; as soon as she was calm enough to stand, in fact, the rest of Team D-X accompanying them all the way to the car, surrounding them protectively like their own personal phalanx of security. Once they were safely back in their hotel room, the Charismatic Enigma had helped her out of her ring attire and into the shower, holding her while she shook and shivered beneath the scalding spray, then into an old t-shirt from some obscure punk band before leaving to go search for the closest ice machine.

A wave of dizziness swept over the Dominant Diva, and she swayed a little, propping herself up with the heels of her palms to steady herself. Triple H had given her a couple of Percocet tablets before she had left the arena - how he'd managed to procure the drug was beyond her, and she'd been in no state to ask - and between one of those and the beginning states of shock, her surroundings were starting to blur into this warm indistinct haze, like the world around her was gradually slipping into slow motion.

But even this dense cloud bank of painkillers and shock wasn't thick enough to block out the occasional lightning bolt of pain, flickering through the fog and reminding her that she couldn't escape, not really; that no matter how badly she wanted to drift away from this reality, inevitably, she would be forced to return.

I'm going to make him suffer...I'm going to break him down and take back MY title...

Melina felt her petite frame begin to shake uncontrollably. She slumped, her chin dropping down onto her chest, her damp reddish-brown tresses falling forward to shield her tear-stained cheeks and swollen mouth, and it was only with the greatest effort that she was able to force it back up.

She was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but instead of relinquishing herself to fatigue, the paparazzi princess fought to stay awake...because every time her eyelids drooped closed, unwanted memories came rushing back to the forefront of her mind - Nitro's thumbs digging into her windpipe, his handsome features so warped with fury that they were more beast than human, his voice a deafening roar-

You think this is over? It's not over...

By the time I'm done with you, you'll BEG me to take you back...

With a choked sob, Melina abruptly sat back up, finger-combing her long hair back from her face with one hand as she struggled not to cry. She didn't know which was worse - this numb detached state or the hard bright violent reality that it hid, because neither one could conceal or change the fact that her boyfriend Johnny Nitro - ex-boyfriend now - the man she had sacrificed her career for, the man she had once loved...had just tried to kill her-

"Princess? What's wrong?"

The Dominant Diva looked up with a gasp, her dark irises meeting Jeff's concerned green ones - she'd been so busy wallowing in self-pity that she hadn't even heard him return to the room. For a long moment, she could only stare at him, the corners of her mouth twitching back and forth as though they were trying to form a smile, but had forgotten how, before eventually slumping against him like dead weight.

The younger Hardy brother wrapped both arms around her slender body, cradling her against him. Carefully, he eased her down onto the bed, slipping her beneath the covers and pulling them to her chin. As soon as he did, the paparazzi princess let go of him, pulling away and drawing her petite frame up into as much of a fetal position as her injuries would allow. Tears stung Jeff's eyes, and he looked away for a second or two, gnawing on his lower lip as a huge ball of anger and frustration filled his throat.

It was bad enough seeing the physical damage that Nitro had inflicted on Melina - fat lip, bloody nose, purple finger marks on her throat - but it was even worse seeing the emotional wounds he had left as well; the ones that didn't leave a mark, but still left a scar...as evidenced by the dull shattered look in the Dominant Diva's eyes.

The Charismatic Enigma lay down, stretching out on the bed next to Melina. He tentatively rubbed her back, then - when she didn't pull away - inched closer, slipping his arm over her waist. After a moment, he felt Melina finally, felt her body mold against his as she inched back..

They lay like that, not talking but drinking each other in just the same, before Melina let out a soft sound that was either a sigh or a cough, then remarked: "It must get tiring, huh?"

It was the sort of darkly comic statement that might have been funny if the circumstances hadn't been deadly serious and her voice hadn't been flat and stretched thin over barely contained hysteria. The paparazzi princess took in a shallow careful breath. "Always having to pick up the pieces that Johnny Nitro leaves behind?" Bitterness crept into her tone, and she spat out her ex's name as though the syllables comprising it tasted disgusting.

Jeff felt a cold sensation slip through his insides, tightening around them like a vise, and he shook his head, sliding one hand up the length of Melina's body to gently stroke her hair. "Don't say that-" he murmured soothingly.

"Why not?" Melina interrupted harshly. "It's true, isn't it? Every time he breaks me down, you're there to put me back together again - although...if he gets his hands on me again...there might not be enough left for you to fix me this time."

She laughed suddenly; a loud, humorless, awful sound, and Jeff felt that sick cold feeling sink its claws into his guts once more. Melina continued, her voice soft and distant, as though she was addressing herself rather than the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "He won't stop. You know that, don't you? You saw the look on his face. Now that he knows, he won't stop-"

She stopped abruptly, but Jeff could still hear the remainder of the thought, hanging in the air above them like effervescent smoke: ...until he kills me. He won't stop until he gets me back...or until he kills me.

Until he kills both of us...

The Dominant Diva drew in a ragged breath, her voice miserable and thick with tears. "Jeff...I am so sorry..."

The younger Hardy brother frowned. "For what?"

Melina hesitated, and Jeff felt her fingers interlace through his. "For this - for dragging you...into my mess."

Jeff was genuinely dumbstruck for a moment or two, before his eyebrows eventually came together in a frown. "Listen to me-" Taking hold of Melina's shoulders, he gently turned her around to face him. "Don't apologize, princess. Not to me, not for this, not ever. Understand? This mess - it's my mess, too. Like you said - you hurt, I hurt."

The Charismatic Enigma leaned in until the tip of his nose touched hers, his voice dropping to a determined whisper. "If you drop, then I'm damn sure gonna dive down after you, because we are in this together, and I am not letting you fall no matter what."

He didn't know then that, in less than twenty-four hours, it would all come crashing down; that he would soon be tested to the limits of that vow, and that this night would be the last few moments of peace that either he or the paparazzi princess would have for a long time - but then again, how could he? We never realize how precious something is until it's ripped away from us, and the younger Hardy brother was no different - because the only thing on his mind in this moment was that Melina was hurting and, as he had always done, he wanted to make the pain go away.

The younger Hardy brother reached up, trailing his fingers down the soft curve of the Dominant Diva's cheek, wiping away her tears. "No matter what." the younger Hardy brother reiterated fiercely - having no idea he was about to embark on the fight of his life.

Nitro shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trudging sullenly across the deserted expanse of the arena loading dock. He was at the Mellon Arena in Pittsburgh, several hours before RAW; at this time, the only people here were production personnel and technicians, scurrying back and forth between the numerous trucks and the main amphitheater of the arena as they hurried to assemble the massive set in time for the live broadcast. Some of them shot questioning looks or raised eyebrows in his direction as they passed by - it was unusual for talent to arrive this early to a show - but none of them offered comment; as strange as the self-proclaimed A-lister's presence might be, it didn't change the fact that they had a job to do.

And for once, Nitro was grateful for their lack of attention - because he also had a job to do.

The former Intercontinental Champion frowned, biting back a wince as the tiny shift in his facial expression sent a wave of pain rippling across his wounded features. He had no doubt that at least half of the odd glances he was getting were due in part to his appearance. Even after more than twelve hours, only a little of the swelling had gone down, and while he had successfully concealed the black eye behind his designer shades, he'd been unable to do the same thing for the rest of his face. His lips were puffy, the split in them still raw and visible; his nose looked like a piece of rotting fruit in the center of his swollen face.

Not that there was really any point in trying to hide them - chances were even the lowliest of production assistants had heard by now at least three versions of how he'd gotten the holy fuck beaten out of him by that miserable shit Jeff Hardy.

Nitro's frown deepened, his fury briefly eclipsing the pain. It hadn't even been a fair fight - he'd been outnumbered five-to-one; his ribs still ached from where Triple H's boot had crashed into them. And he hadn't even been doing anything - merely teaching his bitch girlfriend a lesson, all because she had to keep opening up her lying whore mouth and accusing him of being less than a man...

You're not a man - you're a boy...a little boy who stamps his feet and throws tantrums when he doesn't get his way...

Now I can tell you to your face how much I HATE you...how just the thought of you touching me makes me want to PUKE-

Okay, maybe choking her had been a little extreme. But he had warned her, and as much as he didn't like to think about it, there had been something purely satisfying about the act itself; about literally holding her life in his hands and squeezing until the contempt in her gaze finally drained away, and fear took its place...

The self-proclaimed A-lister stopped dead, his hands clenching into fists. It was getting harder and harder to think of Melina by name; to think of her as anything other than that bitch or that whore or that cunt...because that's what she was. Everything that had befallen him - it was all her fault. She had betrayed him, humiliated him, and then, when he had discovered her infidelity, she had tried to run away; to abandon him like everyone else by claiming to actually be in love with that has-been junkie.

Nitro scoffed. "Love..." he murmured derisively. It was a lie, of course; had to be - the only person Melina loved was him. She seemed to have forgotten that fact, but he would remind her. He would make her love him again...but not before he made her pay.

Not before he made both of them pay.

At the rear of the loading dock, next to the corridor leading into the maze of the arena's backstage area, sat a folding table and some chairs. The former Intercontinental Champion grabbed one of them, flipping it around and straddling it with his back to the table.

He wasn't even there a minute before he heard the light tap of footsteps, followed by a soft scrape as the chair opposite him was pulled out. Nitro leaned back, reflexively turning toward the sound's source.

"Don't," Maria's tone was light on the surface, but there was a wintry chill lurking behind that made the self-proclaimed A-lister freeze in place. "I doubt anyone else is here by now - but I'd still like to not look like I'm having a conversation with you."

Nitro remained where he was for a few seconds, straining his eyes toward the farthest corners of his peripherals, but all he could see was the barest suggestion of movement. The former Intercontinental Champion reluctantly turned back, resting his elbows on the back of the chair, and dropping his chin on his forearms. "So...did you do it?" he finally asked after several long seconds had passed. "Did you talk to him?"

Even though he couldn't hear anything, he could almost glimpse the triumphant dip of the backstage reporter's chin as she nodded. "Of course," the Raw Diva purred. "He's here as we speak...and he's expecting you. Head to the General Manager's office as soon as you and I are finished."

Nitro didn't move, but instead continued to watch the various production personnel go about their tasks from behind the tinted lenses of his sunglasses. Behind him, the chair creaked softly as Maria leaned forward. "Word of advice-" Her high-pitched tone dropped down to a conspiratorial level. "When he asks you why you want this - and he probably will - don't say it's because you got dumped. The last thing you want is for him to think you're a loser."

The backstage reporter made a soft contemplative sound in the back of her throat as she thought aloud. "Make it all about business. Say...say that as a rising Superstar concerned about your future, you're worried that your manager is too distracted and isn't making your career a priority."

The former Intercontinental Champion chuckled. "That's pretty good." He straightened up. "Maybe I've been going about this all wrong - maybe you should be my manager."

The noise Maria made this time was borderline scornful. "Please."

"Why not?" The self-proclaimed A-lister started to turn around again, but caught himself just in time. "It's gotta be better than standing around and holding a microphone all the time." He lowered his voice, a snide note slipping into his tone. "Besides...don't tell me that it doesn't bug you - having to play dumb all the time, when you're smarter than everyone else in the room-"

Maria's hand slammed down onto the table, startling him."Of course it bugs me," the backstage reporter shot back. "It bugs the shit out of me - not being taken seriously, having to act like I don't get it, having to just laugh it off every time the joke turns out to be on me."

A hard, ugly note - so incongruous with the Maria Nitro was used to - crept into her voice. "And the joke is always on me, because everyone, even my friends, think that they can just walk all over me without any consequences-"

"Then why put up with it, if it pisses you off so much?" the former Intercontinental Champion asked. "Why don't you just tell them all to go fuck themselves-"

Maria laughed, but there was nothing cute or bubbly about the sound - there was nothing in it but contempt. "Because it works both ways. When people think you're an idiot, they act like you're not there. They'll say anything, do anything - things they wouldn't normally say or do otherwise. Because it never occurs to them that it could come back around; they never dream that the bimbo with the microphone could turn around and stab them in the back-"

She fell silent all of a sudden, and when she finally spoke again, her voice had assumed that bright effervescence that everyone associated with Maria Kanellis. "I would get going if I were you - McMahons aren't exactly known for their patience, and if you want to ask the Chairman for a favor and actually have it granted, you shouldn't be late. Besides...I need to get ready - people will be arriving soon, and I'll need to start acting like the jilted brokenhearted girlfriend." The legs of the chair scraped against the floor again as she stood up.

Nitro started to rise. "Wait-"

He heard the Raw Diva pause. "What?" There was just the slightest hint of impatience in her tone.

In spite of her directive, the self-proclaimed A-lister turned around. Maria's back was to him, her long brown hair loose and tumbling down her back. Nitro pulled down his sunglasses, staring at her over the rims. "This...you helping me...this whole plan..." He stumbled over his words; stopped, tried again. "It's just...I never imagined...that someone like you...would have it in you."

At this, Maria looked back toward him, and despite his bravado, Nitro felt his internal thermometer drop a few degrees. Her face was the same pristinely beautiful one that gazed doe-eyed up at wrestlers every Monday night, but there was such a lack of - what? Warmth? Empathy? Anything? - in it this time that it seemed more like a mask...and for the first time, Nitro found himself wondering if it had always been a mask; if the backstage reporter's perky carefree persona was merely another article of attire for her to don.

Maria narrowed her eyes critically as she spoke; her irises were like cold, glittering emeralds. "No one does." It was a flat, declarative statement. "But that's all about to change...isn't it?"

The former Intercontinental Champion turned back around, propping both elbows up on the table and chuckling. "You know," he remarked, shaking his head. "You really are a stone-cold bitch-"

But when he looked back at Maria for comment, the backstage reporter was already gone.

"Yo! Earth to Jeffro!"

"Huh?" The Charismatic Enigma jumped a little, his brother's voice jarring him out of his thoughts and back to the present. He glanced over at his older sibling, forcing a sheepish smile onto his face. "Sorry - guess I was spacing out there for a sec."

"Yeah, no kidding," Matt replied dryly. He crossed his arms over his chest, a wry grin slipping across his own features. "I know a title match isn't exactly a big deal to you or I anymore - I mean, we've only won the belts five times - but could you at least fake some excitement?"

Jeff couldn't think of an immediate response to this, so he merely nodded instead, lacing his fingers together and rolling his wrists around in a circle. Part of him was excited, genuinely excited - it had been years since he and Matt had shared a ring together, and he hadn't realized until their match last night just how much he'd missed it. There was a chemistry, an energy between them in their tag team bouts that their individual efforts could never quite match, and while he enjoyed the victories he had achieved as a singles competitor, he would always be most proud of the moments he had spent as one-half of the Hardy Boyz. Plus, it was a title match, in the main event, no less - last night's victory had been sweet, but this was like winning the goddamn lottery.

But at the same time, he couldn't quite shake this feeling of apprehension, like an undertow lurking beneath the seemingly calm surface of the water. For the first time in the entirety of their tag team career, he felt like he and Matt had switched places; like he was the cautious one rather than the reckless daredevil...because there was something, something, about this imminent title match that he just...didn't...like.

Despite Team Rated RKO's utter rout last night at Survivor Series, its two co-captains had escaped mostly unscathed, their pride taking more of a beating than their bodies. And as the Rainbow-Haired Warrior knew from painful, personal experience...it was wounded pride that often stung worst of all.

Orton and Edge - it wasn't just their title belts they were defending tonight; it was their dignity as well. It wouldn't be enough for them to remain the Tag Team Champions; they would also need to prove that last night had been a fluke, that the Hardy brothers - and, by proxy, D-X - had just gotten lucky.

And that was another thing - why were Rated RKO putting their titles on the line in the first place? The Rated R Superstar and the Legend Killer weren't just heel champions - they were the worst kind of heel champions; Edge a coward and Orton a psychopath. To them, being the Tag Team Champions wasn't about defending against the best; it was about finding the path of least resistance - so why would they consent to be put in a situation where they had a high probability of losing, against two of the Superstars at least partially responsible for their humiliation the night before?

Jeff could think of two reasons, and neither one of them was pretty - either Rated RKO had something up their collective sleeves...or this match was about something other than a pair of gold-and-leather straps...and his gut was telling him that it was a little bit of both.

No, he didn't like this. He didn't like this one bit.

"Hey..." Jeff felt a light touch on his shoulder, and turned to see his brother staring at him once again, his dark eyes narrowing as the amusement in his countenance gave way to concern. Matt leaned forward, lowering his voice a touch. "You're really worried about her...aren't you?"

Jeff wordlessly nodded - not because he didn't have anything to say, but because a huge ball of emotion had inexplicably materialized in his throat, rendering him incapable of speech. His older brother moved around to face him, grasping his shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze as he went on. "Bro, I was there, remember? I heard what he said, too - but you know Nitro; it was all talk. He's not going to try anything; not here, with all these people around. Besides..."

He took hold of Jeff's other shoulder, leaning in a little more. "...we both know that Melina was the closest thing to brains that douchebag had. He can't come up with a plan this quickly, not with her gone - he's too stupid to think for himself."

The Rainbow-Haired Warrior stared back at him silently, thinking that it didn't take a whole lot of brains to punch a woman in the face or bludgeon an opponent with a steel ladder; just a little bit of anger and a little bit of madness...traits which the self-proclaimed A-lister possessed in abundance. Thinking that the amount of people at Survivor Series hadn't stopping Nitro from dragging Melina to a place where there were none and beating the holy hell out of her.

Thinking that, even though he had been there, too, Matt hadn't really seen what he'd seen, hadn't felt what he'd felt - hadn't been the one to come barreling around that corner to see Melina up against the wall, her feet kicking weakly in mid-air, her face turning purple from lack of oxygen...all while a sick smile of enjoyment spread over Nitro's face as he squeezed and squeezed and squeezed...

With effort, the Charismatic Enigma forced himself back to reality, grabbing onto his brother's arms, his fingers digging in just hard enough to get his attention. His green eyes bore into Matt's dark ones, and his voice, when he finally spoke, was slow and deliberate. "A year ago...you hit Amy with a Twist of Fate inside a steel cage."

A number of emotions flashed across Matt's features - shock at the conversation's focus shifting to him, anger and hurt that his brother would bring all that back up - but they gradually gave way to a dull, flat look of comprehension. He understood.

Jeff dug his fingers in harder, a weak smile flickering across his face. "And that was you." He paused for a second. "So do you really think...that he's not going to try anything?"

"Jeff?"

Both Hardy brothers turned at the sound of Melina's voice, and Jeff immediately felt shock wash over him like a tidal wave. The beautiful young woman with the long reddish-brown hair standing before them was undoubtably Melina, but yet, at the same time, she wasn't - the outer facade was the same, but the inner fire behind it, that indeterminable something that had first drawn his eyes to her, even when he was cursing her under his breath, was missing. Her complexion was so pale that the makeup sitting on top of her features looked more like paint, and there was a defeated cast to her body language that made Jeff think of those infomercials of abused animals.

The Melina he had first met back in August would have done anything to stand out. This Melina...looked like she was trying to disappear.

The Charismatic Enigma immediately moved to embrace her, pulling her against his chest. He felt the paparazzi princess's fingertips sink into his back as she returned it; felt her small body hitch as she sucked back a sob. "I had to find you..." Her voice was thin and strained, like she was trying to keep it under control. "I'm so scared - no matter where I go, I feel like he's watching me; like I'm going to turn around and he'll be there behind me-"

She drew in a deep breath, then let it out, her exhalation hot against the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's chest. "I keep having this awful feeling...that something bad is going to happen." Her tone was matter-of-fact, as though she didn't really expect an answer. "I don't want to stay back here - I want to be with you."

A thin sliver of foreboding, like a stiletto made of ice, slipped through the younger Hardy brother's insides - hadn't he heard those same six words once before, right before something awful had occurred? Jeff slid his arms upward, tangling his fingers in the silken weight of the Dominant Diva's long hair. "Princess-"

"I know what you're going to say," Melina interjected, and Jeff felt relief at hearing just a touch of the paparazzi princess's former impatience flit through her tone. "If I do, there's no going back; everyone will know, if they don't already - but I don't care. I don't..." She stopped, drawing in another shuddering breath. "I don't...feel...safe... anywhere anymore."

She looked up, gazing at the Charismatic Enigma, and beyond the fear in her eyes, there was a kind of stark serenity. "The only place I feel safe is with you." the Dominant Diva whispered.

Both of them jumped as the pulsating rhythm of the younger Hardy brother's entrance music blasted through gorilla, nearly deafening all of them. Jeff knew it was the signal for he and his brother to emerge and head down to the ring, but instead of moving, the Rainbow-Haired Warrior kept his focus on Melina. "Listen to me, princess," he commanded, practically yelling to make himself heard over the loud music. "I'm going to make him pay? You understand? For you, for me, both of us."

He could feel his brother tugging impatiently at his sleeve. "Bro, we have to go-" Matt insisted.

Jeff impatiently shook him off, still staring at the Dominant Diva. "He will never hurt you again. You hear me? I won't let him-"

Melina stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then tiptoed up, pressing her lips against his in a hard passionate kiss. Jeff returned it, wishing all of a sudden that he didn't have this title match ahead of him; that he just grab Melina by the hand and take her away from here; leave behind this phony shallow world and retreat to his little house in the woods, to the one place where things slowed down and made sense.

But he couldn't - because this was the path that he had chosen, that both of them had chosen. The only consolation was that from this point on, neither one of them would have to go through it alone.

Matt was at his shoulder again, not just grabbing his sleeve this time, but yanking it hard. "Save it for after the match! We have to go!" Jeff reluctantly pulled back, taking Melina by the hand and following his brother toward the black-curtained entryway...and the brightly-lit battleground beyond.

The fans' reaction was exactly what he'd expected - there was the customary deafening pop for him and his brother, a blast of aural enthusiasm that seemed undiminished by time - but this time, he heard it ebb somewhat as uncertainty mingled with their eagerness; a sort of unspoken What's SHE doing here?... that hung over Jeff as he walked out hand-in-hand with the paparazzi princess.

Melina abruptly gripped his hand hard, and when the Rainbow-Haired Warrior glanced over, he saw a petrified expression etched on her face, her dark eyes fixed not on him, but on the sea of faces surrounding them - she looked like a rookie stepping out in front of her first live crowd.

It suddenly dawned on Jeff that, in a sense, she was - this was probably the first time she'd come through that curtain as someone other than the confident arrogant Diva hanging on Johnny Nitro's arm, and without that persona to fall back on, she had no idea who she was supposed to be.

The Charismatic Enigma stopped, pulling Melina to him and holding her face in his hands. "Hey," he commanded gently. "Look at me," The paparazzi princess did so, gazing up at him timidly. Jeff grinned. "Just smile, princess."

For a second or two, Melina blinked uncomprehendingly, then did so, her full lips curving up into a smile - not the haughty sneer everyone was accustomed to, but a real smile; the kind that lit up her whole face and made her even more stunning; the kind that only he got to see.

They're seeing you for the first time - you realize that?...the younger Hardy brother thought silently. Not the bitch they love to hate - but who you are on the inside...

Right now, they're seeing you the way I see you...

Stepping back, he told hold of her hand once more, entwining his fingers through hers, and the pair - along with Matt, who was shaking his head in amusement and chuckling - made their way to the ring.

The Tag Team Champions, having emerged first, were already waiting for them inside the squared circle, their eyes fixed on the duo - now a trio with the unexpected addition of Melina - with considerable interest. Randy was silent, his head cocked to one side, his expression emotionless, his eyes unreadable - but Edge boldly strode over toward the tag team, shoving his face in the younger Hardy brother's.

Melina instinctively ducked behind Jeff, and the Rated R Superstar's gaze flicked toward her with a sort of distracted curiosity before returning to the Rainbow-Haired Warrior. "Typical Jeffro," the former WWE Champion remarked derisively. "As always, the best you can do is some other guy's sloppy seconds."

Swallowing the impulse to punch Edge right in his smug face, the Charismatic Enigma merely returned his smirk, narrowing his emerald irises a touch. "And that's something you know all about, isn't it...Adam?"

The Rated R Superstar's self-satisfied sneer immediately vanished, but before he could respond, Randy intervened between them, placing one hand on Edge's chest and forcibly pushing him back, his azure irises now trained on Jeff. The younger Hardy brother braced himself for the inevitable affronts to his masculinity and his ability to win a match - but instead the Legend Killer remarked casually: "So...how's Maria taking all of this?"

The question was so unexpected that Jeff froze, any retort he might have had dying instantly on his lips. Randy's tone was light, as though he was discussing an issue as trivial as the weather. "Because she seemed pretty devastated when I told her the truth about you and Johnny Nitro's squeeze."

This last bit was directed at Melina, who shrank against Jeff even more; the Rainbow-Haired Warrior could feel her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. Randy shrugged nonchalantly, raising his eyebrows. "From the way she acted, one would have thought that she had no idea what her boyfriend was up to."

He stared at Jeff, with those eyes that were blue and empty, like the deepest parts of the ocean. "But I guess that's not the case anymore...is it?"

The Charismatic Enigma couldn't speak - shock and dread had tamped down over him, smothering him like a cold sodden blanket. He could only stare back at Randy, mouth opening and closing stupidly like a fish as he struggled to formulate a reply. "You...you..."

The Legend Killer's mouth twitched, curling up into an almost imperceptible smile. "Oops." He raised both eyebrows, feigning innocence. "Did I say something I shouldn't have?"

The younger Hardy brother began to shake, and deep inside him, he felt something, some part of his self-control, give way. Without warning, he lunged at the Tag Team Champion, and probably would have succeeded in tackling him if Matt hadn't been there to grab him around the waist and drag him bodily back. "Dude, don't listen to him!" the SmackDown Superstar exclaimed, panting a little as he tried to restrain his sibling. "He's just trying to get to you-"

"I'd listen to your brother if I were you, Jeffro," the Legend Killer interrupted. He looked unperturbed, as though the Rainbow-Haired Warrior was nothing more than a toddler throwing a tantrum. He eyed both brothers, his vacant azure gaze drifting over to Matt. "Because we all know that when it comes to women - Big Brother knows best."

Now it was the elder Hardy brother's turn to stop dead, his dark eyes blazing with reflexive fury. For a moment, he looked as though he wanted nothing more than to let his brother go and watch as he beat the ever-loving fuck out of the former World Heavyweight Champion. Randy must have sensed this, because his grin widened a bit, making him look a bit like a shark, and he spread his arms wide in a challenging motion, as if to say: Come at me, bro...

However, instead of conceding to any of their secret wishes, Matt merely gritted his teeth and pulled his brother back to their corner of the ring. "Forget about him, Jeff," he whispered. "Dude's a psycho - and trust me, he won't be smiling like that when you and I take the belts off him."

Those words, more than anything else, cut through the haze of rage that had momentarily engulfed the Charismatic Enigma, and he gradually relaxed, nodding. Matt had a point - if there was anything guaranteed to ruin the Legend Killer's day, it was the agony of cleanly-won defeat. Without saying a word, he eased his lean body through the ropes, grabbing hold of the tag rope, while Matt stripped off his t-shirt and headed to the center of the ring to start off the match.

Melina took the opportunity to slip through the ropes and out of the ring, automatically heading to her customary position at the apron. As she did, she once again felt that weird sensation of tumbling down in Wonderland - by all accounts and purposes, she should be on the other side of that ring, urging on the bad guys. She heard the fans behind her, and could tell that they felt the same way; could discern from their confused jumble of shouts and jeers that they were wondering when they had missed the setup for this particular joke.

Believe me...the paparazzi princess answered silently. It's not a joke this time. In fact, the joke is that there is NO joke; there is NO punchline...

I know it doesn't follow the script - but sometimes, the best things are the ones you never planned for...

It was a great match, as far as tag teams bouts go, with lots of back-and-forth action - with former WWE and World Champions on one side, and former Tag Team Champions on the other, the competitors were about as evenly matched as they could possibly be - but what was even more amazing was how easily the Dominant Diva found herself slipping into the role of their ringside manager, as though she had always been a part of Team Extreme. She pounded her palms on the canvas, she screamed encouragement, she talked trash to Rated RKO when they ventured over to her side of the ring - Edge would scowl at her, while Randy would merely stare at her in a vacant robotic way that unnerved her - and for the first time, possibly ever, she had fun.

During her time with MNM - and subsequently, with Nitro - she had been ringside for a million matches, but every single one of them had been a meticulously plotted campaign, a battle whose only objectives were to win, to retain title gold if it was on the line, and most importantly, to show their opponents that they were not to be trifled with, not to be touched. But here, at this match, the rules seemed so much more simple: protect Jeff - and by proxy, his brother - but most importantly, have fun.

Protect Jeff. Protect Matt. Have fun. Had it really been this simple all along?

However, despite her amusement, the paparazzi princess couldn't seem to shake the lingering feeling of dread that had latched onto her as soon as she had arrived at the Mellon Arena - the belief that something was wrong, that things were on the verge of spiraling into the catastrophic...

The fans suddenly let out a cacophonous roar, yanking her out of her thoughts and back to the match. Matt had just driven his boot into the Legend Killer's gut, doubling him over, allowing him to set the Tag Team Champion up to drill him into the canvas with a Twist of Fate.

Right on cue, Jeff nimbly scaled the turnbuckle post, pausing for a moment to soak in the atmosphere of the crowd. The Dominant Diva smiled, cupping both hands around her mouth and letting loose one of her infamous primal screams. Jeff didn't look down at her, but she saw him grin - and then he was tumbling forward, somersaulting through the air as he dove down into the Swanton. Melina watched him descend, her mind already dismissing the crowd's abrupt collective increase as a response to the Hardy brothers assuming control of the match.

It never occurred to her that they might have have had another reason until she felt the tap on her shoulder...accompanied by Nitro's cold inflectionless voice behind her:

"Enjoying yourself, cunt?"

The paparazzi princess whirled around with a gasp. She couldn't scream - her heart had rocketed up into her throat, making sound impossible - and her only real coherent thought amid the overwhelming shock and terror flooding her system was: The crowd...he must have come in through the crowd...

The former Intercontinental Champion wasn't wearing his designer sunglasses for once, and the unforgiving illumination of the overhead lighting grid threw his facial injuries into harsh relief, making him appear like a slightly less gruesome version of Frankenstein's monster. But what unnerved Melina far more than the welts and swollen flesh marring his features was the crazed, feverish, and yet somehow sane, look in his eyes - eyes which were currently fixed solely on her.

In the ring, Jeff nailed the Swanton, rolling over with effort and hooking the Legend Killer's leg for the pin. Melina didn't notice, however; the match had become irrelevant. All of her attention was focused on Nitro, and she understood now just how a mouse feels when it's caught beneath the pinning gaze of a snake about to strike.

The self-proclaimed A-lister took a step toward her, two, shortening the distance between them. His mouth was moving, forming words that she heard all too clearly: "I told you that I would make you pay."

Melina backed up until the ring apron collided with her spine, finally locating her voice as the scream tore out of her chest. "Jeff-"

And then all hell broke loose.

Everything seemed to happen at once, so quickly that it was almost impossible to distinguish one action from the one that followed. Even the fans at ringside had differing accounts when later asked to describe the chain of events. Outside the ring, Nitro lashed out with a brutal quickness that was terrifying, grabbing a handful of Melina's hair and throwing her head-first into the security barricade.

Inside the ring, Jeff saw it, registered it in the same helpless way that we see a car crash about to happen - but before his brain could even begin to send the impulses down to the rest of his body to react, Edge dove across the ring and smashed his Tag Team title belt into the back of his neck.

Pain - overwhelming, obliterating, complete - shot through the Charismatic Enigma's ravaged frame like lightning, and while he didn't lose consciousness entirely, his vision went black for a second or two, the same four words echoing in his head like a mantra:

This was a setup...this was a SETUP...THIS WAS A SETUP-

On the floor outside, Melina rolled up against the security barrier, groaning. Her head was throbbing and she could barely breathe, but she was conscious, and even though her limbs were numb, they still seemed capable of obeying her commands. WIth a great effort, she pulled herself to her knees, then to her feet, hanging onto the edge of the barricade for support. The world within her field of vision was turning sideways in sharp jarring jolts, but the Dominant Diva hung on, refusing to cave in.

Reeling around, swaying on feet that she couldn't even feel, she staggered toward the ring, struggling to see through the dizziness doubling and trebling images in her vision. Jeff and Matt both lay unmoving on the canvas, neither one of them able to even raise an arm to defend themselves against the hail of kicks and punches raining down on them from both members of Rated RKO.

Nitro was in the ring by now, too, pacing back and forth and gesticulating wildly as though he was directing traffic. He halted, pointing at one of the still forms, and Randy and Edge stopped as well, hauling the barely conscious figure up to his knees and restraining him on either side. Jeff was barely responsive, his head lolling down onto his chest until the Legend Killer, laughing, grabbed a handful of his multi-hued hair and yanked it back up.

Anger swept through Melina's petite frame like boiling water, briefly washing away the fear and pain; rendering them inconsequential. Before she was completely cognizant of what she was doing, she was in the ring, grabbing Nitro and clawing wildly at his unprotected face and neck like a jungle cat, hoping every time her nails sunk in that she was drawing blood. "Leave him alone!" the paparazzi princess shrieked. "You sick bastard, don't you touch him-"

The defensive elbow that Nitro threw caught her right in the throat, sending her stumbling back, unable to catch her breath. The self-proclaimed A-lister whirled around, and in one fluid motion, nailed her with a vicious backhand slap that knocked her all the way down to the canvas. The Dominant Diva landed hard, the entire left half of her face numb and throbbing. Stars flooded her vision, and her ears were filled with a painful high-pitched ringing that drowned out the screams of the crowd.

And in the back of her mind, she was vaguely that the fans were right all along; this was a joke - the only reason she hadn't seen the punchline coming was because the joke had been on her the entire time...

At the sharp crack of Nitro's knuckles hitting flesh, Jeff stirred and blearily opening his eyes, which quickly bulged with anger as soon as they saw the crumpled figure of the paparazzi princess. "You fucker!" He struggled to free himself, and despite the two wrestlers holding him down, actually succeeded in making it up to one knee. "I swear to God I'll kill you-"

"Uh-uh-uh," the former Intercontinental Champion chided, waggling his finger back and forth as though he was admonishing a naughty child. He advanced toward the fallen Hardy brother, shaking his head, his face fixed in a sickening expression of perverse enjoyment. "That whore is going to get what's coming to her...just like you are."

Rage bloomed on his features, his wounds rendering the emotion even more monstrous, and the self-proclaimed A-lister grabbed hold of Jeff's jaw, shoving his face into the Rainbow-Haired Warrior's. "I hope that you enjoyed fucking her," the self-proclaimed A-lister snarled, his voice raw and dripping with venom. "I really do. Just like I hope you enjoyed winning, breathing, existing - because it's all about to end."

His fingers dug in deeper, hard enough to bruise. "From now on, the only thing you'll have to look forward to is a world of pain." He nodded his head, indicating the mayhem he had orchestrated. "You think this was bad? This is only the beginning."

Nitro leaned in even more, his nose bumping against Jeff's, his voice devolving into a harsh growl. "I will break you down, and take back everything that you stole from me - and by the time I'm done with you, you'll wish you'd stuck a needle in your arm and ended your miserable existence years ago."

The Charismatic Enigma sucked air in through his nostrils, staring defiantly up at his rival. "Let her go." he whispered hoarsely. "I don't care what you do to me - just let her go."

Nitro sneered. "You always were pathetic." Releasing his grip on the younger Hardy brother, he rose to his feet, striding over to where Melina lay. "Take a good look, Hardy," he taunted, glancing back over his shoulder. "Take a good long look at this bitch-"

He grabbed the paparazzi princess by the hair, dragging her up to her knees, forcing her head up. Melina's face was already swollen, fresh bruises standing out through the veneer of makeup. Her cheeks were wet and striped with black trails of mascara; her dark eyes were glassy with misery and terror. Her lips were moving faintly, and it took Jeff a second or two to grasp what she was saying:

I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...

The self-proclaimed A-lister didn't notice; he was too busy reveling in the misery he was inflicting. He leaned in, his tongue darting out, and the Dominant Diva shuddered in revulsion as he licked the side of her face. "Savor this," the former Intercontinental Champion continued, his voice brimming with obvious satisfaction. "because after tonight, you will never see her again."

Jeff barely heard him; all of his attention was focused on Melina. He opened his mouth to say something, anything - and then Nitro's boot crashed into his face, snapping his head back painfully, shrinking all sensation down to a tiny pinprick of awareness.

From what seemed like a great distance away, the Charismatic Enigma felt the grip on his arms relax, and he fell forward onto the mat in a senseless heap, unable to even bring his hands up to catch himself. And as he lay there, absorbing the wicked cackling of his assailants and Melina's screams as Nitro dragged her from the ring, Jeff thought back to the last conversation they had had before stepping out here...

The only place I feel safe...is with you...

...the last thing he had promised her...

He will never hurt you again...you hear me? I won't let him...

...and how he had let her down, let both of them down, by failing to do just that.