Breaking the Habit

By Archangel

Memories consume

Like opening the wounds

I'm picking me apart again

Matt stared down at his arm without seeing it, scraping at the scabbed over slices he had given himself just a few days ago. He was lost in thought as he tore himself open again and caused dots of fresh blood to come to the surface. He thought about what had caused this week's mutilation fest. Another argument. This one the worst ever. He had lost his brother because of it. It had been horrible.

He had made the mistake of talking to Jeff again about coming back into wrestling. There was plenty of storylines and gimmicks he could fit into now, with better writers and more people to interact with. It had turned bitter quickly. Jeff was sick of Matt's nagging, apparently having finally had enough. It had become a screaming match at first, each of them arguing their points as loud as possible. Finally Jeff had silenced Matt with a hard slap across the face. As he stood there, holding his cheek and staring in shock, Jeff continued to yell at him. He had never realized how mad he could make him or just how upset Jeff got every time he talked about the business.

The argument had stopped as abruptly as it had started. Jeff had stopped in mid-sentence when Matt gave a soft sob. He had tried to hold it back and remain strong, but he it was killing him to hear Jeff accusing him, blaming him, and telling him how miserable he was knowing that his older brother thought he was a failure. The tears came freely, shocking Jeff into silence. Matt wasn't the type of person to cry. It was an extremely rare occurrence, rarer than a blue moon. Matt apologized and told Jeff he'd never speak of it again before fleeing from the Imagi-Nation for what he swore would be the last time. He'd never bother Jeff again.

You all assume

I'm safe here in my room

Unless I try to start again

Here he was, though, in the bedroom Jeff had made especially for him when the house had been built. Jeff had let him in when he'd shown up on his doorstep, miserable and in need of something. What that something was he didn't know yet. He'd been comforted and fed, forgiven and held as he cried for the second time that week alone, and finally put to bed with a light kiss to his cheek. He hadn't been able to sleep, though. Instead he picked at his old wounds as his mind raced over the many times in his life he had hurt Jeff and others with his violent temper.

I don't want to be the one the battles always choose

Cuz inside I realize that I'm the one confused

Why did he do such things? He would form an opinion about something, or suddenly find fault in an action, and he would go mad. He would scream at them, beat them up, anything to make sure they knew he was mad. Then later he'd realize what he'd done and apologize, but he wasn't always forgiven. The things he fought about most of the time were trivial. It made no sense.

I don't know what's worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream

I don't know why I instigate

And say things I don't mean

I don't know how I got this way

I'll never be alright

So I'm breaking the habit tonight

Matt slowly got out of bed and left the room, walking silently on the soft carpet that filled most of the house. In the kitchen he winced at the cold tile floor. Bare foot he padded over to the counter, the drawer where he knew the silverware was. He drew out one item and then started back up the stairs.

Clutching my cure

I tightly lock the door

I try to catch my breath again

He breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door to his bedroom behind him. The hallway squeaked terribly in front of Jeff's bedroom and he had been worried about waking him up. Thankfully there wasn't any other sounds in the house aside from the noise machine in Jeff's room that played sounds of soothing ocean waves to keep him asleep. He locked the door anyway, just in case. He didn't need anyone trying to come see him and ruin his plans.

I hurt much more

Than anytime before

I have no options left again

He knew precisely what had to be done. He had hurt too many people. Jeff, Shannon, Amy… Just to name a few. He didn't have to think about it. There was no hesitation. He drew the knife down his arms. It hurt so much that he had to bite his lip to keep from making any noise. And the blood flowed forth quickly, gushing over his limbs and to the floor, turning the white carpet bright red wherever he moved.

I'll paint it on the walls

Cuz I'm the one at fault

I'll never fight again

And this is how it ends

He hadn't written a note. He had to explain himself somehow. He looked at the bare wall over the bed, moving quickly to complete one last task before he lost consciousness or grew too weak to move. He covered his right hand in his own blood and wrote a short and simple message on the sky blue paint. He hoped Jeff wouldn't be mad at him for ruining the room. It'd have to be repainted and have new carpet installed, plus the bed covers and mattress underneath would have to be thrown away.

He laid down upon the bed as he started to get dizzy. He was in a soggy puddle of blood, getting colder and colder with every passing minute. Still his mind was clear and he believed he was doing the right thing. There was no other way to stop him from hurting people. It had to be this way. He whispered an apology as his eyes fell closed, slipping into sleep before it all ended.

I don't know what's worth fighting for

Or why I have to scream

But now I have some clarity

To show you what I mean

I don't know how I got this way

I'll never be alright

So I'm breaking the habit tonight

Finally he found the spare key. He rushed back to the doorway, yelling his name again as his shaking hands fumbled with the lock. He shoved the door open and stepped inside, stopping short at the sight. His eyes filled with tears that began to stream down his face without even having to blink.

"Oh dear god… Matty."

Jeff stared at his brother, curled up in the center of the bed. Long gashes tore his flesh almost to the bone. Deep red blood formed a large circle around his body, staining the blanket and the gray sweatpants he had worn to bed. Even from where he stood, though, Jeff could see the peaceful expression upon Matt's face. He looked like he was even smiling a little. He eyes trailed up to the wall over the headboard, following the blood trails to the message that had been left for him to find.

Jeff, I'm so sorry I hurt you so much in our lives. This will be the last time I ever do such a thing. Tell Shannon I'm sorry. And Amy. I love you, Jeff.

It looked as if he had tried to write goodbye, but he must've been too far gone to complete it. Jeff suddenly pitched forward, his knees giving out beneath him and dropping him to the floor. He hung his head as the sobs began to come, clenching his eyes shut as if trying to shut out everything he had just seen. It was far too much. He couldn't believe Matt had done such a thing. He set his hands on the floor in front of him to keep from falling over again. The floor was cold and wet, soggy beneath his hands. He opened his eyes to see he was kneeling down in a puddle of Matt's blood. He pulled his hands away to look at them, seeing the red gooeyness, knowing his brother was dead. He threw his head back and screamed.

Legalities: Matt Hardy, Jeff Hardy, and any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters sexual preferences or lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story.