This story takes place in the Universe in which the Undertaker really does away with people. On the eve of his match with Hbk at Wrestlemania, the Undertaker recieves a vistor.
"What is your wish my servant?"
The gloved hand reached down and out to the kneeling man. Leather clad fingers stroked, then gently lifted the other man's chin. His figure bowed lower still, despite his raised face, and his dark eyes remained fixed to the black stone floor.
Despite his great discipline, the Reaper of Souls stilled a tremble in his gloved hand, secretly amazed by the display of humble supplication from the powerful, wealthy man.
"You may speak."
Yet the big Cowboy remained silent, lowering his face once more to press against the Undertaker's boot. A single tear formed in the Reaper's eye and was thankful for the darkness that concealed it.
"You serve me well." the powerful voice was soft now. "Come nearer, my only love."
The Cowboy crawled, on his knees and his stomach, up the side of the Undertaker's dark throne.
The gloved hand stroked at the chestnut hair, and the Undertaker's eyes widened in amazement as the Cowboy lay his head on the Reaper's knee.
"Speak now." he made his tone sharper. "Speak and look at me."
For the first time since he entered the room, the dark eyes met the Undertaker's and finally the Cowboy spoke.
The Undertaker's dark heart trembled. His Love had never begged, nor given, not to anyone, even the Reaper himself. The mind, the heart, the body of the Cowboy was his only in dreams. Yet now, the proud man knelt and begged at his feet. The Undertaker had to know why. His curiousity gave birth to grace and the Reaper's voice was soft when he spoke.
"Only speak, and I will grant your wish. Do not be afraid." he gently caressed the chesnut hair.
After a moment, the Cowboy's head lowered again, a gasp escaped the Reaper as he felt the gentle kiss on his knee.
"Spare him. Please spare him. I will do anything you ask." Kisses rained on his shins as the Undertaker stared down in awe.
Spare him? Spare who? Michaels??
"Whom do you wish me to save, my sweet? Tell me now," the Undertaker hardened his voice. " I grow impatient."
At the dark words, the soft kisses ceased and the Cowboy froze in his place.
"Shawn. Please...don't break him. Please...please."
Once again tears formed in the Undertaker's eye in a moment of sad epiphany.
"John." the gloved hand reached down once more. "John, look at me."
John Bradshaw Layfield lifted his head. There were tears on the Cowboy's cheeks.
"Do you love him, John. Speak only the truth." The Reaper prayed that he was strong enough to hear it.
"Yes, yes, Master." It was a whisper and a dagger to the Undertaker's dark heart. Of all the men in all the world, Michaels was the one who had earned his Cowboy's love.
"Does he return your feelings?"
The Cowboy shook his head and John's tears flowed anew.
"I don't know, Master. I haven't told him."
This, and not even for the promise of love? The Undertaker sighed, for the beauty in the Cowboy's heart.
"I will do what you ask." as the Reaper spoke, the Cowboy's eyes widened in amazement. "He will suffer, but he will not be broken."
Soft kisses rained down once more on his shins, then John froze, awaiting the Undertaker's command, waiting for the Reaper to take him.
For a long moment, the Undertaker considered the man before him, the years of yearning and love. This was the first, last chance to possess his beloved, but the Reaper could not find it in his own heart.
"You will tell him." Again the Cowboy's eyes widened. "Now, you will leave me in peace."
"Master?" John whispered, remaining still in his place. "Master, I yield. I promised."
The Undertaker's eyes pinched shut in the darkness, and he surpressed a sob.
"I will not take you, my love. Go to your Michaels. Leave me, and go in peace."
The Reaper could not watch as the Cowboys' form crawled backwards, slowly away from the single light and into the darkness,
leaving him to weep for his broken heart.