Chris' room is too immaculate, everything clean, expensive, and Matt knows he shouldn't be here; they have a past, and Y2J is only likely to hurt him again… but he has no one else to turn to now that Jeff's gone, and the loneliness makes him feel so cold inside it's like dying.

When Jericho comes storming into the room, cocky and demanding, he tries to brace himself, stumbles anyway when the blonde pushes him, tumbling back onto the coffee table hard, silk flowers falling all around them.

Chris is always like this, was in the past: fierce, dominating. A string of complicated obscenities spill from his lips as he leans over Matt, trapping him, the words getting harder, the insults more blatant as their clothes come off, the culture stripped from Jericho till he bites and claws, groans like an animal, making the brunette take him, uncompromising.

When he's done, he pushes the Hardy Boy away with a cruel laugh, turning his attention to champagne and a message on his phone, leaving Matt to pull himself together, forgetting him as easily as if he were alone.

Matt knew this was a mistake; Chris had never cared about him, never would… and for his all his good intentions he had nothing but new pain, insults ringing in his head long after he'd dressed and gone out into the night, tears falling unseen.

************

The next day, whispers followed him through the locker-room, some of the younger superstars callous enough to not even pretend they weren't talking behind his back.

Ziggler grins as he goes past, sizing him up, blue eyes full of innuendo; Morrison gives him a soft look so like pity Matt has to look away, cheeks burning, pride stinging with shame.

Of course Chris would talk; he'd done it before, and the Hardy Boy feels like a fool for thinking he could ever trust him. But it's his fault really, his weakness, and now he's even ruined their name - another mistake, like all the ones he made against Jeff, to haunt him.

Out in the hallway he uses the silence to try to clear his head, trying to quiet his conscience enough to concentrate on the business at-hand; he does have a match tonight. Has to make it through somehow.

Then the Big Show comes around the corner, leering as soon as he sees the brunette, his mind obviously on the same page as his tag-team partner, and Matt's concentration is shattered. Coming to stand before him, the giant cups one big hand beneath the Hardy Boy's chin, leaning into him -- and Matt knows it's no use to even try to fight; Show can, will, hurt him even more than Jericho if he tries to refuse…

So he closes his eyes and lets the big man lead him to an empty office where no one will hear them, a heavy sadness deadening his heart.

************

Pretty soon, he has no more tears; a hollow ache has settled in his chest where his heart once beat, and he trips through the days and nights letting them run together, each as gray-bleak as the last, his mind almost broken.

He doesn't notice the mismatched eyes that follow him everywhere, doesn't feel the strange dark power that reaches out to him in his dreams - the only place he lets himself remember the men that have become his nightmares, taunting him with pain and pleasure until he wakes sobbing… not dead inside just yet.

If only someone would come and save him, even from himself.

************

Today no one comes near him, and by now he's so used to their lewd advances he actually wonders if something is wrong, if he did something but can't remember. He jumps at every odd sound, blood beating too hard in his veins with fear for the unknown.

When someone grabs him it's almost a relief, a strong arm looped around his hips dragging him backwards toward the showers.

Water is running somewhere, and the sterile-white tile is slick underfoot, but he hardly notices because he sees the wall looming up before him, braces for the impact sure to come, and is surprised instead to be turned around gently, his shoulders eased back against the edge.

When he raises his eyes, timid despite too much practice in this wicked game, the sight before him makes him tremble: broad bare chest, wide shoulders, skin so pale it practically glows under the harsh halogen lights, a square hairless jaw - making him wonder how long it's been since he shaved - one blue eye, one like sand-etched crystal…

Kane.

A thrill of fear shivers down the brunette's spine, and he finds his voice enough to whisper "What do you want?" though he's sure from experience he knows. That, coupled with the Big Red Machine's sadistic reputation, terrify him.

But the self-proclaimed Monster's expression is more concerned than cruel, even his usual smirk put away not to frighten the Hardy Boy. When he lifts a hand to brush back Matt's soft curls, he's careful to barely touch him - though even that much makes the brunette flinch, eyes squeezed shut as if expecting to be struck, his smaller frame trembling.

"I'm no going to hurt you."

The words aren't what Matt was expecting, and he opens his eyes again, confused, still waiting for the punishment he's trained himself to handle; this has to be some kind of trick, a cat-and-mouse game.

No one would be nice to him. He doesn't deserve it.

But Kane is just standing there, close but not crowding, watching him with an expression the brunette can't read, big and silent with all the potential for danger but no obvious aggression in any of his body language.

It makes Matt want to run and hide, a rabbit staring down a tiger… but he has just enough curiosity, enough strength left inside to not let irrational panic break him, so asks again slowly "What do you want?"

The repetitive question makes the Big Red Machine cock his head, as if considering how best to answer, and after a moment he glances down, dragging a long slow examination over the Hardy Boy that makes Matt squirm, feeling undressed by the weight of the bigger man's stare.

He is beautiful, Kane thinks, nothing like a woman but pretty nonetheless, with long dark lashes over wide expressive eyes - full of fright at the moment, soft-looking full lips, the unkempt beard straggling across his jaw-line doing little to harden it, his hair though tangled fine enough it make the Brother of Destruction want to ball his fists in it - drag the brunette close and devour him… Though that would thwart his future plans, which since Matt had asked so sweetly, he supposes he ought to explain.

Leaning in closer, the brunette pinned by his body, by his eyes, the Monster breaths in a low rumbling tone "You."

The single word makes the Hardy Boy freeze. He's received every sort of crude answer from the others when he's dared ask in the past, usually right before they made good on their threats… but this is different; there's something about the way Kane looks at him, the feeling radiating off him - power, possessiveness, aggression held so carefully in check. But why?

"I don't understand." The brunette whispers, dark eyes flickering with uncertainty, pressing back against the wall as if to bore through it, escape this pressing tension that makes his nerves hum, the hair standing up along the back of his neck as he still waits, despite the big man's reassurance, to be attacked.

Matt's answer makes the Big Red Machine smile, a little lopsided, and back off again, softening his peculiar gaze.

"I want you." He reiterates calmly, trying not to scare the skittish brunette further, though his next words are almost sure to. "Your mind, your heart, your body, your soul…" The kind of thing his older brother might say, and Kane can't help a fond thought in his sibling's direction; Mark always knew what he needed so well, even when it was someone else. "Your smile, your tears, your love…"

Whatever Matt was expecting, it wasn't that - to be desired so completely. He couldn't understand why anyone would want him, beyond as a plaything. Kane had to be wrong - he couldn't want him, there were so many reasons not to…

Before there could be any mistake, the brunette starts explaining, tears pouring down his cheeks as he begins to sob, battered heart breaking as he confesses. "You don't understand… I make mistakes… all the time… and screw things up…I hurt people, the ones I care about, that care about me… like Jeff. I'm weak, dirty… I let them…" He hiccups, chocking on the word. "…and didn't make them stop… let them do it again… Jericho and Big Show and…"

"And I'll kill them all if they ever touch you again." The Big Red Machine growls, his sudden anger making the Hardy Boy instantly quiet, his dark eyes wide in fright.

Only that puts Kane's temper back in check, and taking a deep calming breath, he reaches gently to wipe Matt's tears away, explaining in a softer tone. "What they did to you was wrong. They took advantage because you were alone." A heavy sigh. "I understand what it's like to be alone, the pain that gets deep inside you." Raising one hand, he laid it over the brunette's heart. "But you don't have to let them use you. You're better than that. They wouldn't try so hard to break you if that wasn't true."

"But I deserve it." The brunette's tone holds a terrible certainly, his eyes empty as glass behind his tears. "Jeff's my responsibility… my little brother… and I let him get hurt. I hurt him…"

Ah, the root of the problem, and it's clear Kane understands at last, though instead of pushing Matt away, he pulls the smaller man to his chest, holding him, and the Hardy Boy can't help crying again - letting out all of the rage and confusion, the pain and bitterness that's been eating him up inside. The big man knows - everything now - and still wants him; it confounds the brunette's tired mind.

He doesn't deserve to be comforted. He hasn't earned the affection or the soft words that the Big Red Machine murmurs into his hair, rocking him slowly… but for the first time in a long time, he doesn't feel so cold inside, the emptiness bleeding out of him against Kane's warm skin.

He knows it's not a good idea but lets his guard down anyway, knees feeling weak as he lets the Brother of Destruction carry his weight, falling into him - trusting him though he's sure he'll regret it later, like Chris -- needing to heal to survive.

Then there's this presence - it's hard exactly to explain -- that fills up the room, flowing in behind Kane, like a chill wind although they're indoors, and the Big Red Machine lifts his head to look over his shoulder, smiling as he does so.

"Bring him home." Orders a cool deep voice, and Matt shivers at the velvety sound, glancing up at Kane.

The bigger man doesn't respond to the newcomer, but turns to the Hardy Boy instead, looking down at him with a quiet kind of affection - something felt for the other man, offered now to be shared with him.

Setting one hand, in encouragement, against the small of the brunette's back, Kane uses the other to lift Matt's chin, bending over him till their lips are hardly inches apart, the Hardy Boy tense with anticipation - wanting for the first time in a long time for the man holding him to kiss him… When the big man doesn't, Matt all but pounces him, throwing his arms around the taller man's neck, seizing the opportunity - not to mention his mouth - with fervor.

Good idea or not, he'll just have to see. There's a chance for happiness here, unexpected and from a source he might never have thought to look to, but this is too good to pass up… If he doesn't deserve it, he'll suffer later; right now, he's content to let Kane gather him up, cradling him like a newborn, and take a chance.

Walking back out into the locker-room the Big Red Machine can't help but smile, this time a little sinisterly - daring anyone to even think about insulting his Hardy Boy - imagining that tonight there will be no nightmares… not with this dark angel in his arms.

************

And behind them the Undertaker would come with steps silent as death, reinforcing his baby brother's threat with a long cool look of his own, pinning down the trouble-makers with an unspoken promised of Hell if they interfered.

Sometimes only one thing could banish the nightmares and memories of the past… and when Jeff returned, there would be a safe place waiting for him, where he could be nurtured and defended, his brother healed in his absence so the two could forgive and forget their scars - where the Brothers of Destruction would be waiting to love them.