Michael's POV

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"Let me go!" I yelled, my voice carrying through the backstage area,
causing people to turn their heads and stare.  I didn't care; for all
it mattered, they could sell tickets.  Right now all I wanted to do
was break free from the hold my well-meaning friends had on me, run
down the ramp to the ring and kick Austin's bionic redneck ass.

I was going to kill him.  For laying his paws on my baby like that I
was going to rip him apart with my bare hands.

"Damn it, Matt, Jeff, let me go!"  I struggled, practically helpless
in the Hardys grasp.  They may not look it, but they're strong and
more than a match for me.  Especially double-team.

"Michael, you can't go down there!"  Matt was trying to get through
my growing rage while Jeff was holding me back with brute
force.  "You go charging into that ring and you'll get your ass
kicked, too!"

"I don't care!"  I glanced at the screen and fought harder.  Palumbo
and O'Hare had taken over for Raven and Hugh Morris, kicking Peter
visciously to the mat.  "They're hurting him!"

"You may not care but we do!"  Matt yelled back.  "And so will he!"
He gestured at the screen as Peter was bodyslammed into the mat by
one of the Dudleys.  "He'd be the first one to tell you to stay put!"

"No."  I cringed as Peter was headbutted and left to writhe in the
ring. "No...damn it, let me go!"  I fought even harder.  "Stop
this...have to stop this..."

"How?"  Matt asked bluntly, wincing as Rhyno gave my baby one of the
most brutal gores I had ever seen.  "What are you going to do?  You
can't stop Austin.  None of us can."

Because everyone was afraid of him.  Austin had become more
unpredictable than ever, lashing out at anyone who even looked at him
the wrong way.  And lately Debra had joined in, encouraging him every
step of the way by setting up people like the Hardys and Lita just to
make him look good.  Even Vince avoided him these days, with good
reason.

Peter was face-down in the ring now, being held there by Palumbo,
O'Hare and the Dudleys as Austin whipped him with his belt.  A moment
ago I had been so proud of my baby for standing up to Austin and not
submitting to the beating the Alliance's so-called leader had decreed
he deserved.  Now...now I was hurting for him, because he was being
beaten down again, this time for just doing his job.

They were all chearing now, celebrating the fact that Peter was
rolling around the ring in agony.  I caught a glimpse of his face on
the monitor and stopped struggling, my eyes filling with tears.  This
shouldn't be happening...not to the toughest man I knew...

Not even a week ago Peter had called the Alliance members his family,
standing up for them even as I commented on their brutality. Tonight,
not one of them had lifted a finger to help him.

"He'll be okay," Jeff said as he slowly released me.  I think he knew
I wasn't going anywhere now.  "You'll see.  Tazz is a tough guy."

I nodded, not really listening as I watched the Alliance vacate the
ring, leaving him behind.  Jeff was right; my baby was tough, but
they hadn't just hurt his body, they had beaten down his soul.  It
would take a lot to help him get over that kind of humiliation, that
kind of shame.

He'd have everything I could give him and more.

The sound of one of the production guys calling my name dragged my
attention away from the monitor.  "Hey, Michael!  You have Angle in
ten!"

I cursed.  The LAST thing I wanted to be doing was a promo with Kurt
Angle of all people.  How was I going to be able to concentrate on
his ankle when my baby had just been beaten half to death in front of
my eyes?

I turned to the Hardys.  "Can you make sure Peter sees the on-call
doc?  No matter what he says?"  I glanced at the monitor, my heart
aching at the sight of Peter staggering out of the ring.  "I don't
think you'll have any trouble."

Matt nodded.  "We'll keep an eye on him until you're done," he
promised.  "Any of the Alliance guys are gonna have to go through us
if they want him."

"Thanks, guys."  I was pathetically grateful, but I didn't care.  If
it kept Peter safe until I got there, then I'd do whatever it
took.  "Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can." They both nodded
and with one last look at the monitor I went to go prepare for
Angle's promo.

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

I have never been so grateful for a run-in in my entire life.  If it
hadn't happened when it did, Angle would probably still be talking.

Not that I could keep my mind on the promo anyway.  I was upset and I
know it showed, but I didn't care.  Every thought I had was solely
focused on my baby, praying that he was okay and wondering just what
I was going to say to him.

The training room was quiet as I came toward it, which initself was a
bad sign.  Usually Peter fights the on-call doc tooth and nail
whenever he had to see him; he hates doctors.  The fact he wasn't
raising a fuss now...

I got to the door, about to go in when what I saw froze me in my
tracks.  Peter was sitting on one of the massage tables, head bowed,
eyes closed, quietly submitting to what the doctor was doing.  The
welts from Austin's belt were livid, stretching all the way across
his broad back, some of them oozing blood.  "Oh God," I managed to
get out, my eyes filling with tears.

He looked up and immediately looked away.  "It's okay, Mikey," he
said dully.  "It looks worse than it is."

I went over to him, immediately wrapping my arms around his heck and
pulling him into a loosed embrace.  "It's not okay," I murmured,
kissing his forehead.  "That's the last thing this is."

He didn't say anything; he just lay his head on my shoulder and slid
his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.  The simple gesture
nearly broke my heart; usually Peter's the one comforting me, not the
other way around.  And while a part of me was glad he felt secure
enough in our relationship to be able to ask for help, a part of me
wished he never had to.

This was so wrong...

Finally, the doctor finished bandaging him up.  "There.  Put this on
for the next few days."  He handed me a tube of antibiotic
cream.  "And I suggest you stay out of the ring until you're healed."

"Trust me, doc, that won't be a problem," Peter said quietly, his
eyes on the floor.

I didn't like the sound of that.  "Guys, could you leave us alone for
a bit?" I asked, looking up at Matt and jeff, who were standing by
the door.

"Sure.  We have to get ready for our own promos with Kurt."  Matt
said as he pushed his brother toward the door.  "Take care, you
two."  They disappeared down the hall.

The doctor also packed up his kit.  "I'll be down the hall if you
need me," he said as he left the room, closing the door behind him.

I helped Peter back into his shirt and began buttoning it.  "I'm
proud of you, you know," I said quietly.

He stared at me.  "For what?  Getting my ass kicked again?"

When I was done I wound my arms back around his neck, angling his
head up so our eyes met.  "For standing up to him," I
corrected.  "Everyone else is scared stiff of Austin, but you fought
back."

"Yeah.  Lot of good it did me."  I had never heard him so
bitter.  "Doesn't matter.  After this, I've had it.  I'm done."

He didn't...he couldn't mean... "You don't mean quit," I said,
wanting to make sure I heard him correctly.

"After tonight, damn straight I do."  he put his head back on my
shoulder.  "What happened...no one should have to..."  He didn't
finish.

"I know," I murmured. Not more than a month ago I had been where he
was now - battered, bruised and ready to pack it all in.  I had spent
most of that night in Peter's arms, sobbing my heart out and
threatening to walk out on all my dreams.  It had taken a lot of
comfort and some strong words from my baby to get me back into my
chair behind the announcer's table.

I was more than prepared to throw those words back in his face.

"If you quit, then Austin wins," I said quietly, laying my cheek
against his head.  "Do you want that?"

"Fuck no," he spat out.

"You've worked for almost ten years to get to where you are now," I
continued.  "Are you just going to throw that all away because of
that redneck jackass?"

"You don't understand, Mikey."

"Don't I?"  I whispered.  "Then explain it to me."

He let out a heavy sigh, but didn't say anything.  Finally he lifted
his head up to glare at me.  "You know how much I hate it when you're
right?"

I couldn't help smiling.  "I know."

"It's just...I've never been...he fucking took me down, Mikey."  He
ducked his head. "In front of everybody...the other guys...the
fans...he treated me like...like I was less than nothing..."

"He's afraid," I said, running my hand over his shone head in an
attempt to soothe.  "He knows you can beat him.  He just doesn't want
to give you the chance to."  I brushed a kiss against his
temple.  "You're too good a wrestler - too good a man - to let him
keep you down and stand in front of your dream. And he knows it."  I
lifted his head up, forcing him to meet my eyes.  "He'll get his
someday.  And you'll be the one to give it to him.  I know you will."

"If you tell me to bring one home for the gipper, so help me God..."
he threatened with a snarl.  Under the snarl, however, I heard the
affection and I laughed in spite of everything.

"Better, love?" I asked, still holding him close.

He shrugged.  "As well as it's gonna get for now, I guess. And yeah,
I'll stick it out for now."  The look on his face turned
pleading.  "Are you done?  Can we just get the hell out of here?"

I kissed him; I couldn't resist his puppy dog look and he knew
it.  "Yeah, I'm done."

"Good."  He got down from the table.  "'Cause all I want now is some
peace and quiet, a beer and you."  A mischevious spark suddenly
appeared in his dark eyes.  "Not necessarily in that order."

I grinned, winding my arms around his neck again.  "well, we can find
the peace and quiet in our hotel room and there's beer in the fridge
there,"  I pressed myself against him.  "and you already have me."

He slid his arms around my waist.  "Yeah, I do, thank God," he
murmured.  "I love you, Mikey."

"I love you, too."  Our lips met in a gentle, lingering kiss.

I let him go reluctantly, taking his hand.  "C'mon.  My rental's out
back."  I opened the door and started to lead him out of the training
room.

My timing coudn't have been worse, for coming up the hall directly in
our path was Stone Cold Steve Austin.  "Well, well, well.  Look who I
found."  his voice was harsh, mocking both of us.  "The master of the
suplex and his mealy-mouthed little wimp boyfriend."  His cold
chuckle sent a shiver down my spine.  "And just where do you think
you two are going?"

"Back off, Austin," Peter snarled, glaring at the
Rattlesnake.  "There's no cameras back here.

"Oh, you think I whipped your ass 'cause there was a camera on me?"
He laughed.  "Guess again, boy.  I did it 'cause you deserved it and
I did it 'cause I wanted to."

Peter's hand tightened in mine as I felt him flinch at Austin's
words.  That flinch was what did it, I think.  Austin had finally
gone too far.

I stepped in front of Peter, matching Austin glare for glare.  "You
heard him," I said, my voice hard.  "Back off."

"What?  Did I hear someone say something?"  He cupped a hand over his
ear as if to listen for something.  "Sounded like a little squeak
from a mouse small snough to step on."  he came closer, a menacing
look on his face.  "Go ahead, little mouse.  Squeak again."

I knew what he was trying to do, but I wasn't about to let him
intimidate me again.  Especially not in front of Peter.  "I said back
off," I repeated, slowly so he was sure to hear me.  "You've done
enough damage for one night."

He stared at me, a look of astonishment on his face.  He honestly
couldn't believe I was facing him down.  I couldn't either, to be
truthful.  Maybe the fact that it was Peter I was defending gave me
the courage I didn't usually have.  Whatever it was, I just hope it
worked and he left us alone.

No such luck.  Astonishment turned into pure rage.   "I don't think
do," he said, coming even closer.  "I think I've only just begun.
And once I'm though with your boyfriend, I'm gonna pound your ass
into this here cement floor."  The WWF Championship belt was
carelessly tossed aside.  "Or maybe I'll just start by whipping
you."  He reached out to grab my hair.

I evaded his grip easily.  Sometimes it pays to be skinny - you move
faster if you are.  Before he could recover and try something else, I
did the first thing that came to mind - I gave him a good hard kick
right where it hurt the most.

He immediately fell to his knees, clutching his groin before falling
overr to his side with a sick little groan. I let a small smile of
self-satisfaction come over my face; I hadn't thought it would
actually work, but anger and fear are both pretty good motivators for
getting it right the first time.

I turned to Peter, who was staring at me in wide-eyed
amazement.  "Where'd you learn to do that?!"

I shrugged.  "First thing they teach you in self-defense class.  Aim
for a vulnerable area."  I indicated my work boots with a nod.  "And
these have a steel toe."

He nodded, still wide-eyed.  "Remind me not to piss you off.  You've
got a pretty good aim."  He paused.  "You didn't have to do that, you
know."

I took his hand and squeezed it, smiling.  "Yes, I did.  You defended
me against him.  It's only right I do the same."  I gave him a hard
kiss. "C'mon.  Let's get out of here."  We stepped around the still
writhing Stone Cold and left the arena, together.

***********