Title: Take My Life
Warnings: Language, sexual situations (M/M)
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and the events herein are not meant to reflect on the lives of the wrestlers portrayed. I make no money from this, and barely make any money from my job, so don't sue me. Just for fun, y'all!
Summary: When his life spins out of control, Edge asks Jeff to take the reigns. Edge has no idea what he is getting into.
Kayfabe is real-ish, but I pretty much make up the storylines as my own story demands. Edge is married to Vickie, matches aren't pre-decided(i don't think there will be many of those, though), but they tend to keep the feuds in the ring. Go with it; it's just fiction. :) Also, this one gets dark, pretty much from the get-go. If you're easily squicked by torture, drug abuse references, graphic sex(later, I promise), non-con and the like, this fic may not be for you. For the rest of you sick bastards, have fun! ;)
Jeff stormed out of the trainer's room. He was going to track that asshole down and give him a piece of his mind. He'd only gotten halfway down the corridor when a hand grabbed his elbow.
"Where are you headed, baby bro? You look like you're on the warpath." Jeff bristled. The last thing he needed was Matt trying to talk him down.
"It's gotta stop, Matty. I'm going to talk to him about it."
Matt rolled his eyes. "We agreed it was none of our business, Jeff."
"Well, it's my fucking business now," Jeff told him. "He's getting sloppy. He almost broke my neck when he countered that Whisper. We're supposed to be competing, not trying to kill each other. If something doesn't happen soon he's going to seriously hurt someone, you can't deny that."
"Do you really think you're the best one to do it?" Matt asked, sighing. "Before he started this shit we were all just getting to the point where we could be friendly with each other. And with your history..."
"Those are the exact reasons I think I could talk to him." He put his hands on Matt's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. "Look at me. See? Calmed down now. I'll talk to him like a rational human being, I promise. Please, let me do this. He's not gonna be my BFF any time soon, but... I just can't sit by and watch him do this."
Matt searched the green depths of Jeff's eyes. He didn't want to see him get sucked into the problem, but he could tell when he'd lost a battle. Jeff had found so much strength in the last year, but that didn't mean Matt could just stop being an older brother. "Fine. Just... don't get too involved with this, okay? I couldn't stand it if..." Matt trailed off.
"I won't," Jeff promised. "I know you can trust me." And he was gone.
After searching and asking around backstage Jeff made his way to the hotel. He'd sneaked a peek at the logs for the correct room number, and when he got there he pressed his ear against the door. He could make out the thumping bass of rock music, so he knew someone must be there, and he rapped on the door.
"Edge? Adam, open up, it's Jeff." He waited a few seconds, but there was no answer. Either his music was too loud, or... but Jeff didn't want to think about any alternatives. He shoved the key card in the slot (shameless flirting with the desk girl worked wonders) and stepped inside.
Of course Edge would have a giant suite. He was, after all, the GM's husband. Neither Edge nor Vickie were in sight, though. Vickie would still be at the arena, considering the show wasn't over yet. The music was coming from the bedroom, so that's where Jeff headed. As he got closer he was struck by a faint, odd scent. A scent that made him twitch. The bedroom door was ajar and he pushed it open.
Adam "Edge" Copeland was sitting on the bed, facing away from Jeff. His jeans were in a crumpled heap on the floor and a strange, stringy guy was kneeling in front of him. Okay, this was weird. The Adam he knew didn't pick up hustlers. He didn't even swing that way, as far as Jeff knew. Jeff crept around the bed, trying to get a better view.
The guy had greasy black hair that fell into his sunken eyes, and the tattoos that covered his arms were some of the most piss-poor excuses for ink he's ever seen. His scabby face was gaunt and ragged, long fingernails turned his hands into claws. Jeff knew this kind of guy, and he was not good news. Adam didn't have to pay for blow jobs from this waste. He'd probably catch something. Jeff saw with relief that Adam was still wearing his underwear. Not to late to stop this.
"You sure about this?" Scuzzy asked, tinkering with something out of sight on the floor.
Adam took a deep breath. "Yeah. Let's do this."
"O-kaaay," Scuzzy said. He picked something up and tossed his hair out of his eyes. Adam lifted his foot and rested it on Scuzzy's knee. Then, to Jeff's horror, Scuzzy held up a syringe. "Here we go," he cooed, flicking the needle and aiming towards a vein on Adam's foot.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Jeff screamed. He raced forward and struck Scuzzy's wrist, sending the syringe skittering towards the bathroom door. Adam jumped, landing himself in the middle of the bed as Scuzzy cried out in pain. "Are you crazy?"
"Jeff, I... what... how...?"
"You better call off your fuckin' boyfriend," Scuzzy shouted. Jeff spun and faced him, blue-green hair swirling and fury in his eyes. Scuzzy recoiled, but continued to speak. "Hey, he already paid. Might as well get his money's worth."
"Then you won't mind if I do this," Jeff hissed. He swept up the syringe and went in the bathroom to empty it into the toilet. He stalked back to the bedroom to see Scuzzy gathering up his stuff. "Why are you still here? Get the fuck out, and take your filthy needle with you." He flung it at Scuzzy's face.
"Hey, that was good shit!" Scuzzy cried, then looked at Jeff's face. He got the fuck out. Jeff followed him to the bedroom door, seething and watching to make sure the suite's outer door shut behind him. Then he turned to Adam.
The cocky, narcissistic Ultimate Opportunist, the Rated R Superstar, was nowhere near this room. In his place was a pathetic, cowering worm. He sat with his back against the headboard, knees drawn up to his face. One hand was combing through his golden locks, the other curled around his knees. His wide, red-rimmed eyes jittered from the floor to Jeff's chest, unable to look him in the face.
"How long?" Jeff growled. He gestured in the direction Scuzzy had gone. "How fucking long?"
Adam shook his head. "Never," he mumbled into his knees. "I'd never... that was the first."
Unconvinced, Jeff pounced on the bed and grabbed Adam's ankles. Adam put his hands on the bed and thunked his head against the wall, closing his eyes and letting Jeff inspect him. Jeff searched between his toes, up his ankles and behind his knees. No tracks anywhere. Just to be sure, he checked his inner thighs, hands and arms. He even lifted his hair and looked at his neck. When he was satisfied he gazed at Adam's tortured face, his hand still cupping his neck. With the other hand he smacked him upside the head. Hard.
"What in Christ's name did you think you were doing?"
"I'm sorry, Jeff. I just-" Adam choked back a sob. "I just wanted to go away for a while, that's all."
"Well that shit will make you go away forever. Is that what you want?" The question was supposed to be rhetorical, but the look on Adam's face made Jeff pause. "Holy shit, is that actually what you want?"
Adam turned away and thunked his head against the wall again. "Sometimes."
Jeff sank back onto the bed, a chill of terror flowing over his skin. Every angry question and lecture he had on his tongue died. No way. There was no way he was going to lose someone like this. It happened to people all around him, but never to someone he'd been close to. And he and Adam had been close once upon a time. Suddenly all the shit that had driven them apart in the first place ceased to matter. Jeff eventually realized he was gaping and tried to formulate a sentence. Before he could, Adam pushed him away.
"Go away, Jeff. I don't wanna talk about it. Just leave me alone." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand over his face.
"Fuck that. I am not leaving you all alone in a hotel room after what just happened. Hell, I may never leave you by yourself again, especially not with that giant bottle of pills you've been eying." Adam shot him a glance before they both dove for the nightstand. Jeff grabbed the bottle first and knocked Adam to the floor, where he slumped, defeated.
"Goddammit, Jeff, I'm not gonna OD. Just let me take my pill so I can go to sleep before Vickie gets back."
Jeff read the label. Opiates, as he'd suspected. Strong ones, too. The way he'd been acting lately just screamed pills. Take one by mouth daily as needed for pain. "How many a day are you up to?"
Adam shrugged. "Two or three. Maybe four if it's really bad."
Jeff arched his eyebrows at him. "So six or seven, right?" He knew how addicts worked. All too well.
"Fuck you, Jeff. You don't know dick about my life. What the fuck do you care anyway? You hate me, remember?"
"That was a long time ago, Adam," he said, keeping his voice calm. "Hating you sucked. I missed being your friend. I was hoping we would be again."
Adam closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. Jeff saw his throat working and the muscles in his jaw twitched. "I don't have friends anymore," he said, glaring up at him. "Now give me my fucking pills and get out."
Jeff just shook his head. "Not gonna happen. I've been in a similar place, and without my friends I wouldn't have made it. Life is good now; I didn't think it ever would be again. And whether you believe it or not, you have friends that love you." Adam snorted and ran a hand through his hair, tugging at it. "What about Jay? Randy? Amy? Chris? What about your mom? How do you think they would feel if you went through with it?"
"Holy shit! I told you, I'm not fucking suicidal! And if I were, my mom would probably be better off not having to worry about me every time I stepped into the ring. Besides, do you see any of them here right now? No. Randy and Chris are still pissed at me for marrying Vickie and Amy and Jay have their own relationships to deal with. They're blissfully fucking happy, they don't need me bringing them down."
Jeff blinked at him. Jay and Sabin had broken up last month. Was Adam really that far out of the loop? Had everyone just abandoned him when he obviously needed them most? "Well, now you have me. I'm not going anywhere."
"Figures. The only person who gives a shit is a stubborn fucking Hardy," he muttered. He looked up at him through his hair. "Can I just have one pill?"
Jeff looked at the bottle in his hand. He couldn't cut Adam off cold turkey. Not without a doctor to help with the withdrawal. "When was your last one?" Jeff asked, not really expecting an honest answer.
"A couple hours." Jeff sighed and opened the bottle, shaking out a pill and tossing it to him. "Maybe two? Come on, I really don't want to be awake when she gets here, and I don't think one is gonna do it."
"I don't think so, Adds."
Adam swallowed the pill and laid back on the floor, arms over his head and legs akimbo. "No one's called me that in a long time." He closed his eyes as he waited for the magic to begin.
Jeff's eyes tried not to follow the long lines of Adam's legs up to his drawers, but not ogling Adam's legs had always been difficult. It was no secret that he found Adam sexy as hell, but he didn't have too much trouble keeping it in check. If he went drooling after all his hot friends he'd be perpetually dehydrated.
"And stop looking at my crotch, Queenie," Adam muttered, his eyes closed. He only slurred a little. Jeff threw a pillow at him and he giggled. "Yeah, I didn't think you'd changed that much. Even if you have been like a new person this year." He grabbed the pillow and clambered onto the bed next to Jeff, lying on his stomach and tucking the pillow under his chin. "How did you do it?"
Jeff shrugged. "After my last stint in rehab I was wanting to relapse again. I stumbled into a bar one night and had an epiphany. I'd never really been in control of my life before. It was always Dad or Matt or the company. I just decided it was my turn. It was my life and I was in control."
"And that was that?"
Jeff nodded. "Pretty much. My doctor helped a lot, but mostly it was just my decision."
"I wish you could take control of my life."
If Adam's eyes had been open he would have seen Jeff freeze. He looked down at the prone man beside him and he chewed on his lower lip. Could this be what he'd been waiting for? What he'd been searching for? It would take a lot of work, but this might be worth it. Fate had so casually dropped this opportunity into his lap, he'd be a fool not to at least try. But he had to be smart. Take it all step by step. Adam had to be ready first, and he definitely wasn't in the correct state of mind now. But maybe, if he laid the foundations just right, he could be soon. "I could, you know."
Adam's eyes popped open and he looked up. The bloodshot whites made the hazel of his irises look jade-colored in contrast. "What do you mean?"
"You hate your life right now. If you really wanted, I could help change it. Get you through detox and take you away from whatever it is you're not telling me about."
Adam's face crumbled before he shook his head. "No. She'd never let me go."
"She who? Vickie?" Adam mumbled an affirmative and Jeff frowned. Why would she not let her husband get help if he needed it? "She wouldn't have a choice. If you wanted to go she couldn't stop me from taking you."
"You don't understand," he said into the pillow. "She- she- fuck... everything..." Adam was near tears again. What had this woman done to him? Jeff scooted down to lie next to him and look right into his face.
"Do you want off the pills?"
Adam nodded, sniffling. "I know I've been crap in the ring lately. It's all I have left, I can't lose it. I just... I don't want to think outside the ring. Don't want to feel anymore."
"Adam. If you really want me to take over, I need you to be clear headed. I need you to really think about this decision, which means you need to go to detox. Is that really what you want to do?"
"I told you, she won't-"
"And I told you this isn't about her. I'm asking what you want. You let me worry about everything else."
Adam blinked at him. "I... I want out. Now. Before she gets back. I'll go to detox."
Jeff touched his face and smiled. "Okay, then. Let's go." He got up and dug his phone out of his pocket. "Pack your shit. I've got a call to make."
Holy crap this was a difficult chap to write, even if it is shorter than any of the others I've done yet. I love torturing Adam, but not like this. This is as graphic as the drug use gets, I swear. Thank goodness Jeff got there in time(actually, thank David. If JD got his way Adam would be a full-blown junkie. Sorry, muse-talk, disregard). I'd like to say that, personally, I adore and respect Vickie, but in this fic she needed to be a villain. So, who did Jeff call? And what does the Enigma have planned for our Rated R Superstar? If you weren't scared off by this chap, we're in for a fun ride. At least, I think so. *evilgrin*