Disclaimer:  I do not own Kane…or Taker…or…Citizen Amber…hahahahahah. She owns herself, I'm sure, or Christian does. Whatever. Anne Rice and Jerky Boys references are made…actually a lot of references are made but all of them are credited so there.

*Dedicated to Amber*

Big Red Broken Heart

I don't know exactly how we came to be together the way that we did.

What I do know is that she saved me.

I hated everyone then. And mostly I hated myself. And it was in that worst type of darkness that the  worst few months of the year rolled around. First was Thanksgiving, which isn't as bad as it could be…but still…it's like…I have no other family aside from Mark and Paul...or at least Paul acts like our family. He really isn't though. Paul is hated by us both, so he doesn't count, but Mark and I were on and off, sometimes fighting, sometimes the best of friends, so I had to just hope that we could get along at this time. After Thanksgiving is Christmas, which isn't as bad as it could be because I have a lot of friends in the Federation but it still isn't a great picnic. But then, which is the worst, is Valentine's Day.

To quote Beauty & the Beast: Who could ever learn to love a beast?

But even though I hated it, I still went to McMahon's parties. And I'd been going since before I was a wrestler, with Mark. He'd invite me and I'd having nothing better to do. At Christmas parties everyone just got real drunk. Those weren't all that terrible. In fact, I though they were hilarious. I never drank anything. Me and David (Gangrel), as soon as he started coming, that is, would never drink anything. So we would just every stumbling around like buffoons. I'd only been to three or four of these parties before I met Amber. Those were before I became a wrestler. They had convinced me to. And so the next April after whatever party it had been I debuted.

But back to what I was saying…

My first Valentine's Day as a wrestler was miserable.

I didn't want to go to the party but Mark talked me into it. All I wanted to do was mope and stay in a dark hotel room. But Mark…ha. He came to my hotel room, pounding on the door and talking to me from the hallway for at least half an hour before I finally let him in. Relentless bastard that he is…I only gave in because I was tired of listening to him.

"What the hell do you want?" I asked him.

He laughed, always trying to lighten the situation. "Please come, Kane. I don't like the thought of you being here all alone. C'mon, man."

I grunted at him. "Why?"

He played with his eyebrow ring and sat down on the foot of the bed. I was sitting at the head, leaning against the wall. I sighed.

"Kane, c'mon. Stop being such a bitch."

I laughed. "Bitch?"

"Yeah. Bitch," he grinned and put on his I'm mocking my little brother and there's not a damn thing he can do about it voice. "Hi. I'm Kane and I'd rather sit in a hotel room then get off my fat lazy ass and go to a party!"

I rolled my eyes, trying not to laugh at him, and smacked him in the face with a pillow. He grabbed it from me and threw it across the room before dragging me up and chokeslamming me onto the bed. I thought the fucker was going to break.

I think that we never grew up. He then climbed onto the bed and sat on my stomach. I couldn't breathe.

"Ahh! Mark get the hell off of me!" I choked. I couldn't push him off at my vulnerable position. All I could manage to do was punch him in the ear. He laughed at me as the punch didn't faze him.

"I ain't gettin' up unless you come with me!"

"Mark get off!"

He laughed. "Not. Unless. You. Come." 

"Godfuckindammit!" I felt my face throbbing. I gasped for breath and pulled at my brother's hair. "Get off now and I won't kill you."

Mark shook his head to himself and went into a great whistling performance of Yankee Doodle Dandy, putting his hand directly onto my face and leaning down on me so that when I tried to protest I really just make so strange sounds and inadvertently spit on his hand. When my saliva touched him he pulled away and looked down at me with mock incredulity. Outraged really. He wiped his hand on my cheek and started singing in the loudest voice that he could and in the highest note that he vocal chords would allow.

"Do you really want -to hurt- me? Do you really want to make me cry-y?"

"Fine fine fine!" I tapped out on the bed and Mark crawled off of me, turning around to lightly slap me on the face a few times.

"You know what you have to do now," he said with a grin. He lifted his chin, eyes closed with glory, as he waited for my response.

"I'm your bitch," I mumbled, and shoved him so that he fell backwards onto the other bed. We looked at each other and broke out into laughter.

He slapped his thigh. "Boy, you crack me up." He grabbed my mask from the table between the two beds and tossed it to me. I caught it and stood, walking to the bathroom. I started to squeeze black makeup out of the little tube to put around my eyes. As I did this I could hear Mark being The Undertaker, in his deep voice saying: "Brother! You will not turn away from me! The plague of evil things will eat at your rotting soul- and when it is through you will REST IN PEACE!"

I sighed. "Mark you have too much time on your hands," I said to him. I heard him laughing.

His figure appeared in the doorway just as I had slipped my mask on. I picked up a hairbrush and began brushing my hair as he spoke to me.

"You know…GTV should be real. Imagine it- big scary Kane brushing his hair in boxers and his favorite blue t-shirt."

"Pshh," I dropped the brush and looked at him. "What about the Lord of Darkness whistling Yankee Doodle Dandy?"

He slapped me on the back. "Yeahprettyfunny. Just get dressed. And wear an Undertaker shirt. You tapped, man."

"Wow, Mark!" I said, and pushed him out of my way. "Impressive feat: sitting your fuckin' heavy ass on someone so that they can't breathe."

"Hey!" he flashed his cunning smile. "It worked, didn't it?" Besides, I think that it can count as a choke-out don't you?"

"No," I answered him. "It counts as a getthefuck-out-you-ass so that I can get dressed you dumb shit."

He shook his head, a very teacherly and motherly look on his face. "Now, Kane…the name calling isn't necessary." I threw something at him…I think the ice bucket but I'm not sure. I wasn't really looking. He yawned. "Ehh…" he sighed. "I'll meet you in the lobby in five minutes."

He walked to the door, turning around for final words before he left. "Don't be late," his voice deepened, "for I will make you my bitch." He pronounced "bitch" very finely and said it with total seriousness, to which I rolled my eyes, thinking 'Jesus Christ you need a life…' He slammed the door behind him. I could hear him a few seconds later from down the hall screaming "Rest In Peace!"

Again I rolled my eyes. "Mark, you love your job too much," I muttered to no one in particular as I buttoned my jeans and pulled on an Undertaker shirt, groaning all the while because I didn't want to go to the damn party.

Little did I know, that night would change my life.