Forever Not Yours


Chapter 1


Shadow and Fallon watched the monitor as the McMahon-Helmsley Faction made a little speech concerning Triple H’s upcoming number one contender match later that night against the Undertaker.

The two were technically working with the Ministry of Darkness at the Undertaker’s sister, Sorcha’s, request. They weren’t ordained members, just recruits to keep Stephanie and Tori out the men’s way.

The Ministry of Darkness and McMahon-Helmsley Faction were at odds with each other, on the brink of an all out war.

“Remind me,” Fallon, the women’s champion, said. “Just how exactly did we get into this mess?”

Shadow sighed, relieving the past two months in her head quickly. They had watched Tori’s betrayal of Kane and went out of their way to become his friend, trying to show him that not all people were bad. It took a couple of weeks but they had managed it, and at the same time somehow incorporated themselves in a broil with DX and Co. It all escalated one night when Sorcha came to them with an offer: They help the Ministry and in return they would be guaranteed protection.

When Shadow didn’t offer a response, Fallon shrugged and turned her attention back to the monitor, adjusting her belt over her shoulder. “I don’t know who I want to win more, Triple H or ‘Taker.” She said dryly.

It had never been a secret that Fallon didn’t care for the Undertaker. The feeling seemed to be mutual between them.

“I would hope that you’d want the Undertaker to win.” Shadow said softly, looking over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard her friend.

“Screw him, he doesn’t scare me.” Was Fallon’s brash reply. “Catch you later kid, I got to go tap up.”

Shadow watched her friend walk away and shook her head.


Fallon was tearing tape with her teeth when there was a curt rap on her locker room door, a luxury she received due to being the Women’s Champion. “Come in,” She called out, tossing aside the roll and finishing wrapping her wrists. When she looked up, her black eyes instantly became guarded. “What can I do for you Sorcha?”

Sorcha was the spitting image of her brother, except for her eyes; she had Kane’s blue eyes, the only physical feature that showed she was also kin to the Undertaker’s half-brother. Right now those blue eyes were studying Fallon as if she were deciding if what she had to say would be worth the time.

“Well?” Fallon prompted, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The Undertaker has requested your presence ringside tonight, along with Shadow. He wishes the women of Degeneration X to brook no interference.”

Fallon nodded, turning her back on Sorcha, indicating that she considered the conversation to be over.


The match itself went without any interference, though Triple H cheated whenever the opportunity presented itself. In the end, the Undertaker proved why he was often called the ‘Phenom’ and won. That was when the rest of the Faction made their presence known.

Fallon and Shadow had taken a stance across the ring, watching as the women of DX made their way down the ramp. As long as Stephanie and Tori stayed out of things, the two would have no cause to attack.

It didn’t work that way. Tori jumped onto one side of the ring and grabbed the Undertaker by his long black hair. Shadow worked her way towards Stephanie while Fallon went to deal with Tori.

It didn’t take to much to take out the already injured enemy and as she was preparing to take her leave, X-Pac vaulted the ropes and drop kicked her into the guardrail.

Fallon immediately curled into the fetal position, pain searing through her body as she sought to protect her vital organs from the hard kicks he was directing her way. The attack lasted less than a minute as the rest of the Ministry of Darkness emerged from the back to aid their leader.

Fallon was fighting to stay conscious as Bradshaw gently scooped her into his arms, cradling her gently as Sorcha gave Farooq orders to assist Shadow, who had received a Pedigree for her troubles.

“Take them to the medics.” Undertaker said flatly, showing no concern for his mercenaries.

Righteous anger coursed through Fallon, causing her to wiggle free of Bradshaw and stumble away from him. Her head swam and the lights seemed to be flickering but she managed to grab ‘Taker by his arm. “You know, we risk a lot to come out here and make sure those two bitches don’t bother you, the least you could do is show some friggin’ compassion!”

Undertaker looked at her, then to where she was holding his arm then back to her face. “You forget your place Fallon.” There was a note of warning in his voice.

“No, you forget that I’m not part of your little church group!” She spat scathingly. “Why don’t you take your ‘protection’ and shove it up your…” Fallon never finished her sentence as a wave of blackness engulfed her.


When Fallon came too, she was laying on a bench in her locker room. Groaning softly, she gingerly sat up, wincing at the pain in her head.

“You’ve awakened.”

Fallon looked over to see Sorcha standing against the far wall, her hands clasped loosely over her black skirt. “What’re you doing here?”

Sorcha slowly approached Fallon, her blue eyes cold. “The Undertaker has graciously decided to forgive your comments at ringside. He will attribute them to your pain, this time.” Her tone was threatening.

Fallon didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Tell your brother he can kiss my ass.”

“Why don’t you tell him yourself?” Was Sorcha’s reply as she slipped out of the room.


The next day, Fallon found Shadow down in the arena’s boiler room with Kane. They were sitting on boxes, discussing the night’s matches. “Hey guys.” She greeted, sitting besides Shadow. “What’s going on tonight?”

Shadow smiled wearily. “Not much, Kane has the night off, you’ve got a Triple Treat match against Tori and Ivory.”

“Sounds like fun. My title up for grabs?”

“No, but it sounds like they’re setting you up to lose it.

Fallon sighed, running a hand through her thick mane of black hair. “I wish those bitches would just die already.”

Kane studied her intently. “How is your head?” He asked softly.

Fallon smiled at him. “It’s all right.” She assured, not wanting him to worry.

He nodded, his gaze moving onto Shadow’s bandaged arm.

Fallon noticed it too. “How did that happen?”

“Last night. Triple H landed on it.”


“Sprained.” Shadow grimaced. “He’s a heavy bastard.”


The Undertaker was a man given to rash impulses. He generally thought everything through, plotting all possible courses and the outcomes before reaching a decision. When Sorcha had presented him with the idea of making Fallon and Shadow recruits, he had first weighed the pros and cons, deciding it wouldn’t hurt to indulge his sister. Now more then ever, he was regretting that decision.

Fallon was becoming increasingly a pain to him. She was impudent, belligerent and to bull-headed for her own good. Qualities that didn’t endure her to the Undertaker or his Ministry. The previous night had only cemented his rapidly growing dislike for the brash young woman. Yet, Sorcha insisted that he keep her in his employ. He could partly understand this.

Fallon was a fierce warrior, unafraid or either man or woman. She was quick on her feet, intelligent and an asset to any who she was working with. It was a wonder the McMahon-Helmsley Faction hadn’t already scooped her into their regimes. Still, for all her good traits, she was expendable and it was mounting to no matter how much pleading Sorcha did on the woman’s behalf, he was going to dispose of her.

Sorcha had her own reasons for trying to protect Fallon, as well as Shadow. Shadow wouldn’t survive on her own, hadn’t been surviving until Fallon had taken the poor loner under her wing, teaching her to compete and thrive in the hectic, fast paced WWF.

The two had gone out of their way to befriend Kane and whether the Undertaker liked their half-brother or not, Sorcha loved him. Making sure the women he cared for were well protected was one of her ways of showing him her love.


Fallon was doing jumping jacks in the hallway, her eyes scanning the halls for enemies as she worked herself up for the match. She felt a heavy hand rest on her shoulder and instantly ducked away from the possible attacker, spinning around on the balls of her feet, legs apart, quickly assuming a fighting stance.

“Feeling vulnerable?” It was the Undertaker, sneering down at her contemptuously. “I would too if I were you.”

Fallon was tempted to tell him where to go but bit the inside of her cheek, remembering that not only her well being, but Shadow’s rested in this man’s hands.

Knowing that Fallon was restraining herself, Undertaker nodded condescending approval. “I wish to speak with you about Kane.”

Impossibly, Fallon’s eyes grew blacker than they already were. “Oh really.” There was just a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

“Kane is my enemy. Even though you and your cohort are no ordained members of my Ministry, you are still employed by me. I demand you cease any and all contact with him.”

“And if we don’t?”

“Fallon,” The Undertaker shook his head, reaching a massive hand out to gently cup her chin. “It wouldn’t pain me to watch the members of the Faction mar this beautiful face of yours.” His grip tightened. “And without my protection, they would. You wouldn’t last a whole night through.”

Fallon instantly knew the truth in his words, knowing he was right and how she hated him for it. “I get the point.” She said angrily, jerking her chin from his hand.


Fallon watched sullenly as he walked away, frowning when he stopped and said without looking back;

“Tonight for my match this evening, only you will be present.”


Fallon won the Triple Threat match, barely. Surprisingly, none of the Faction came out to help Tori and Stephanie hadn’t been ringside, which worried Fallon slightly. She barely had time to get a drink of water before Sorcha showed up, commanding Fallon to follow her.

Fallon was mildly disconcerted to find herself in Sorcha’s private dressing room. “Um, what’s going on?” She asked hesitantly, not sure if she really wanted to know.

“Since you will be honored by being the only one to accompany the Undertaker out tonight, you must look suitable.” Sorcha pursed her lips, studying Fallon intently. “Not even Paul Bearer is going out you know.”

Fallon got the impression this was a big deal. “Why?”

“I know about as much of this as you do.” Sorcha replied. “Perhaps the Undertaker is testing your loyalty to him.”

“Which requires me ringside why?”

Sorcha shrugged slightly, pulling a black garment bag out of the tiny closet. “Put this on quickly.”

Fallon opened the bag, recoiling at the sight of a full body, cloth suit that was sure to be skintight, with purple ribbon running along it in crisscrossing patterns. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not.”

Moments later, Fallon emerged from the bathroom, tugging at the low V cut neck of the outfit. It was different from her normal wear of spandex shorts and a white crop top. She huffed as Sorcha gestured her to a chair and began pulling Fallon’s long black hair out from it’s simple braid.

Sorcha ran a brush through Fallon’s mane, smiling inwardly at the silky sheen her hair was taking on from the brushing. She left it down in waves before taking a purple ribbon and gently tying it around Fallon’s throat. “Now you look like a true bride of the Ministry.” She whispered, leaning down so her own pale face was alongside Fallon’s.

Fallon studied her reflection blankly. “This isn’t me.”

“No. It’s the Undertaker.”


Shadow’s eyes widened slightly when she saw her friend walking down the hall towards her. “What happened to you?”

Sorcha.” Came Fallon’s bleak response.

“I see.”

Fallon quickly filled Shadow in on the night’s events, including them being forbidden to associate with Kane.

“That’s not right!” Shadow said outraged.

“I know, but if we want to stay off the hospital’s critical list what choice do you have?”

“Hey, I didn’t go out of my to befriend Kane only to drop him like a bad habit just because the Undertaker snaps his fingers.”

A faint smile appeared on Fallon’s tense face. “That’s my girl.”


Even without his Ministry beside him, the Undertaker was imposing as always. He waited near the entrance clad in his usual black robe, the hood over his head. He turned to face her as she approached, the heels of the thigh high black boots Sorcha gave her clicking as she walked.

Fallon stood before him resentfully as he took her appearance in. “Do I pass inspection?” She asked through gritted teeth.

“You’ll suffice.”

She was tempted to give him a piece of her mind but before she could say anything, his music sounded, signaling his entrance.

The Undertaker held out his arm to her, suppressing a smirk when she reluctantly took it, ignoring her protest when he pulled her to his side.

“Is all this really necessary? She demanded, trying not to let her anger show as they slowly made their way down the ramp.


Fallon moved off to the side of the ring as he entered the squared circle, standing akimbo, her eyes moving side to side watching for enemies.

His opponent came out and the fight began. When there was no sign of DX Fallon began to relax a bit. She watched as ‘Taker beat down his adversary, making an example of him, all a part of the mind games between him and Triple H.

When the lights went out, there was a collective gasp from the crowd. Fallon edged closer to the ring, every inch of her tensing for a fight.

She wasn’t disappointed.

The members of the Faction were running down the ramp when the lights came back on. Undertaker’s opponent fled the ring as Fallon was sliding inside.

“You shouldn’t be here woman!” Undertaker snarled.

“Well I sure as hell can’t stand out there either!” She shot back, standing beside him. “You can’t take them all on alone anyway!”

There was no time for debate as the Degenerates hit the ring. Triple H, Stephanie and Tori were taking their own sweet time, laughing as they leisurely strolled down the walkway.

Because the attackers were only after ‘Taker, Fallon was sorely tempted to make her escape but didn’t. Resigning herself to the inevitable, she threw herself into the melee, jumping onto Billy Gunn’s back, applying a headlock on him.

Billy reached up and grabbed her about her slim waist, yanking her off him and tossing her into a corner.

Fallon quickly got to her feet, hating Sorcha for insisting she don the heeled boots, as now they was a disability. Before he reached her though, Fallon kicked out, nailing him in the stomach.

Billy clutched the ropes, wincing in pain and she lashed out again, this time getting him between the legs. He dropped face first to the canvas, holding himself.

Fallon took advantage and kicked the side of his head, kicking him out of the ring. Billy was joined by X-Pac and the Road Dogg when Undertaker lifted them and bodily tossed them out of the ring.

“You need to run!” He ordered, eyes fastened on Triple H who was approaching the ring, now carrying a sledgehammer.

“Yeah, and leave you to get your ass handed to you?”

“Insolent wench! You’re a liability to me!”

Triple H waited until his friends were on their feet, and began the circling the ring. One by one they slid into the ring, forming a circle around the two in the center.

Fallon fought back to back with the Undertaker, doing anything necessary to save herself. She ducked a blow to the face and fell back between Undertaker’s spread legs as he was exchanging blows with Triple H. She looked up from her spot on the canvas, made a fist, aiming between Hunter’s legs. She knew her aim had been true when she heard his shrill scream of pain

The Undertaker looked down at her and for a brief moment, Fallon thought she seen a spark of amusement in his eyes.

Before anything else could happen, the rest of the Ministry hit the ring. Fallon rolled under the bottom rope, watching as the Ministry took DX to the cleaners. Once the assault was over she hurried off through the area between the ramp and the guardrail, hoping to slip away undetected.


“Oh my gosh, we were so worried about you!” Shadow said upon seeing her friend enter the boiler room, looking none the worse for wear.

Kane stood up, walking over to Fallon and took in her new look quietly.

Sorcha.” Fallon said apologetically.

“Shadow told me about the new rule.” He said gravely.

Fallon shot Shadow a dirty look, having never planned on telling Kane about that. “Screw the Dead Man, we’re still hanging with you aren’t we?” She asked with a smile.

Kane appraised her thoughtfully.


Fallon groaned when a loud knock on her door woke her up from a semi-deep sleep. “This has better be good!” She threatened, tossing back her blankets and reaching for her robe. After slipping it on she padded towards the door, undoing the locks and opening it. “What the hell are you doing here?”

It was Sorcha. “May I come in?”

Sorcha, it’s three in the morning, whatever you want can wait until later.” Fallon went to close the door but Sorcha blocked it.

“It’s urgent.”

Sighing loudly, Fallon opened the door wider and allowed Sorcha to pass. She slammed it shut and turned to glare, crossing her arms over her chest. “So what’s so damn urgent that you couldn’t wait until a decent time to bother me?”

Sorcha studied Fallon for a minute, taking in the blue silk robe, gray sweatpants and white tank top as well as the two long braids Fallon’s black hair had been plaited in. “The Undertaker has asked that you wear this tomorrow evening when you meet him for dinner.” She reached into her cape and pulled out a thin black box.

“Dinner? What dinner?” Fallon demanded.

“The time is inside the box, he’ll send a car for you.”

“That’s what you’re bugging me about? A freaking date?”

Sorcha shook her head, setting the box down on a table. “You are so naive Fallon.” She whispered, heading for the door. “Good night.”

Fallon looked at the box incredulously for a brief second before going back to bed. She lay there for awhile, unable to fall asleep. Finally she smacked her face, got up and stalked back to the table, snatching up the box.

Fallon took the lid off it and stared. Inside was a silver chain so fine that she was reluctant to touch incase she broke it. Carefully, Fallon picked it up, studying the pendant that was attached, beginning to groan. It was an Undertaker symbol with a rose entwined around it.

She replaced the necklace in the box, picking up the small note that she hadn’t noticed at first. “Dinner, eight, be ready.” She read aloud, frowning. She tossed her arms up in the air, returning to bed. “Great,” She muttered, flicking off the light. “I have a boyfriend.”


Fallon was waiting outside of the hotel when a limousine arrived. She knew instantly who it was and got inside when the driver opened the door for her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, finally spotting the Undertaker setting across from her. “So what is this all about?” She asked, adjusting herself so she wouldn’t rip her pale blue silk dress.


“Business?” Fallon snorted. “We could have just talked at work about business.”

“We could have.” The Undertaker agreed slowly. “But this is something I would rather no one overheard.”

Fallon got the impression there was more to it than that but kept her mouth shut. Instead she stared out the tinted window, watching people and buildings go by. She blinked back her surprise when they pulled up in front of an obviously expensive restaurant. She then winced as bright lights assaulted her when the driver opened the door.

Undertaker got out first, leaning down to extend his hand to her.

She hesitantly took it, staring openly at him in wonder, having never seen him dressed like this. He wore black slacks, black dress shoes and a black silk shirt with his long hair tied back. He almost passed as normal.

He was silent as he escorted her inside, speaking softly with the maitre’d  and then following him to a private table on an outside balcony.

After seating Fallon and ordering a wine, he stared off into the skylights, only coming out of his reverie when the waiter returned with their beverage. He ordered his meal, waited patiently on Fallon to do the same then as soon as the waiter had left, looked at her.

Fallon took a small sip from her glass, feeling nervous as he sized her up, apparently deciding if he should proceed.

“Last night,” He began in his deep baritone. “You proved something to me Fallon, you proved that no matter what your disdain, you are quite loyal. A trait I rather admire.”

Fallon bit the inside of her cheek, yearning to point out that he himself was seldom loyal.

He smiled sardonically, as if guessing what she was thinking but continued. “There is a plot in the WWF. A plot that if succeeds would end the reign of the McMahon-Helmsley Faction.”

Fallon took this in thoughtfully. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Well my dear, you and Shadow have deeply immersed yourselves in a feud with the Faction. If not for my protection, you are aware that you both would be out of commission.”

Fallon nodded.

“Therefore, it seems only logical that you are aware of what is happening,” He paused to let the waiter serve them and leave before continuing. “Shane McMahon is back. He is aligned with the Ministry to bring down Stephanie and her crew. Our list of allies is short. Shane doesn’t wish it to be known that he is back and most are wary of the Ministry of Darkness.”

Fallon was beginning to get the idea of where this was going. She remained silent.

“So, after giving it some thought, Shane has asked that you recruit others for us.”

“Why couldn’t he have asked me that himself?”

“Incase we are being watched. He doesn’t believe it prudent to allow himself to be seen in the company of the Faction’s enemies.” The Undertaker eyed her for a moment. “You of course would become a full, ordained member of my Ministry, that would allow you constant protection.”

“What about Shadow?”

“We have no interest in Shadow. She is just that, your shadow. You brought her out of her shell and without you she will merely slip back to where she was. She is expendable.”

“You mean she’s weak.”

He nodded.

“Well, this has all been very enlightening but,” Fallon pushed away from the table. “I decline.”

“Fallon, you know this means I can no longer offer you the protection of my Ministry.” He cautioned as she walked away.

Fallon ignored him.


“So what’s on the agenda tonight?” Shadow asked when she spotted Fallon walking into the arena, not noticing her friend’s sour mood.

“Nothing.” Fallon muttered. “Listen, why don’t you go stay in the boiler room with Kane tonight?”

Shadow, if taken aback by this unusual request said nothing, just nodded.

Fallon watched Shadow go, aware that hunting season has just been opened and they were the prey. Silently she made her way to her locker room, ripping a notice off the door and tossing it in a nearby trashcan.

“You look pretty pissed.”

Fallon turned to find her friend Chris Jericho sipping a cup of coffee next to a refreshment table. “Nah. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Fallon shook her head. “Talk to you later, all right?”

Chris nodded, watching her disappear into her room curiously.

Fallon tossed her duffel bag into a corner, rolling her shoulders backwards trying to ease the tension out of them.


Fallon quickly turned around, instinctively moving into a fighting stance. “What do you want Dead Man?” She spat. “I could have sworn we were through.”

The Undertaker moved from his place leaning against a wall to stand in front of her. “I do appreciate the loyalty you’ve shown me. I have no desire to watch you be brutalized by the Faction.”

“What about Shadow?”

He closed his eyes, feeling the familiar annoyance Fallon usually caused. “She will remain under my protection but I doubt she would accept an invitation to join my Ministry, even if I were inclined to give one. Incase you haven’t noticed, she and Kane have become more than friends.”

Fallon’s eyes widened in surprise. When had that happened?

“So what’s your answer?”

She just nodded.

The Undertaker allowed a brief smile to flicker across his face before stepping towards the door. “I’ll have Sorcha come see you.”

“What for?”

“You’ll need to be taught.”


“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Sorcha shook her head.

Fallon had endured an hour of listening to the Ministry’s rules and code of conduct, trying not to slip into insanity. When that was all done, Sorcha had capped off her night by presenting Fallon with another outfit. It was similar to the one she worn the other night only it was silver ribbons instead of purple and the Undertaker’s symbol was cut out on the legs, revealing a lot of thigh, then it was cut out on the chest as well.

Sorcha, I cannot, in good conscience wear that thing.” Fallon protested.

“You can. You’re now an ordained member of the Ministry, this is your uniform.”

Moaning softly, Fallon took the outfit and slipped into the bathroom. “I hate you people.”

Sorcha smiled grimly.


Shadow stared at the monitor in the boiler room opened mouthed, watching as Sorcha and Fallon walked down the hallway together. “Kane, come look at this!” She cried, gesturing him over.

Kane stood behind her, staring impassively at the screen. “Looks like Fallon was inducted.”

Shadow frowned, her forehead puckering. “I wonder why. What does this mean?”

“I don’t know Shadow.” He put a hand on her shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “I’m sure Fallon will explain everything. Just give her a chance to slip away.”

Shadow nodded, her eyes not leaving the monitor.


Fallon was keenly aware of all eyes on her when she entered the Ministry’s locker room behind Sorcha. She stood defiantly in the open door, staring at the others. “Is there a problem?” She demanded.

The Undertaker rose from his place on the bench where he had been in deep conversation with Paul Bearer and eyed her. “You will quickly find that dissension is not tolerated.” He warned.

Fallon gritted her teeth. “Well if my presence is so dissenting, then I’ll just head back to my own dressing room.”

“No.” His tone was curt. “That would pose security issues. From now on you will travel with us, board with us and work with us.”

Fallon could literally see her private life disappearing rapidly.


The next few weeks went by quickly. Fallon had succeeded in recruiting several younger superstars to their cause, using her friend Chris Jericho as a main point, knowing that people in the back looked up to him. She managed to avoid any serious harm at the hands of the Faction but seemed to leave the arena worse for wear by the end of the night.

Shadow and Kane were never seen these days, having seemingly appeared to vanish though Fallon knew that they had gone on a temporary vacation to avoid the crossfire of the impending war.

Stress, lack of privacy and constantly being under watch was beginning to take it’s toll on Fallon. She was growing pale and was always on edge. She began to lose interest in arguing with the Undertaker, preferring to show deference to him these days.

It was this factor that began to make Sorcha worry. She feared that they were rapidly losing the Women’s Champion to melancholy. In an effort to rectify the situation, Sorcha approached her brother one night, cornering him in his hotel room.


“You need to give Fallon a break.” Sorcha said, staring at the impassive form of the Undertaker.

He was standing with his back to her, looking out the window. “We have no time for ‘breaks’ Sorcha. This war is too intense. One false move and everything will come crashing down around us, is that what you want?”

“No. Nevertheless, at the same time Fallon will be of no use to us if she doesn’t care about her work. Without her to establish the much needed links with the other wrestlers, we might as well give in.”

“That cannot be allowed either.” He turned to face her. “What would you have me do Sorcha?”

Sorcha shook her head with a sigh. “Give the girl a break.”


When Sorcha arrived at her door the following morning, Fallon actually smiled. “You for real?” She asked.

“Of course I am. The Undertaker wishes to show his gratitude for your valuable services and offers you the next twenty-four hours to do as you please.”

“Awesome.” Fallon shut the door in Sorcha’s face. Alone, she punched the air excitedly and began laughing. About time she was given a day off. She looked at her unmade bed and considered going back to sleep but discarded the idea.

Instead, Fallon devoted part of her day to shopping for new clothes, making sure to buy things that the Ministry would never approve of and once she was finished; went back to the hotel to quickly change.

After a shower and a change of clothes, Fallon began to feel like her old self again. She looked into the mirror, reveling in her new clothes. Light blue jeans, a light pink top along with pale pink boots. She even looked like her old self.

She caught a movie, walked aimlessly around a mall for an hour or so and then just strolled around the city grateful to be on her own.

“Is our company so abhorrent to you Fallon that you smile merely to be in the shadow of the homeless?”

Fallon spun around to find the Undertaker standing behind her, clad in normal street clothes for once, a wide leather hat on  his head hiding his face. “Not abhorrent. Just overwhelming.” She said coolly. “It’s not exactly easy being with you wannabe Satan worshippers all of the time you know.”

“You make me regret sparing you a day.”

“My bad. Now if you don’t mind, my twenty-four hours aren’t up yet.” Fallon turned from him and continued on her way.

She had gone several blocks when she was jerked back into an alleyway. In the dim light, Fallon couldn’t see her attacker but when she felt herself being pressed roughly against a brick wall her senses came back to her full force.

Fallon lashed out at her attacker, punching him in the shoulder she assumed, and kept on hitting, ignoring the fact that he was pulling her hair, ripping it from her skull. Fallon grunted in equal parts of surprise and pain when a blow to the abdomen dropped her to her knees.

Just as suddenly as the attack had began, it ended. There was a scuffle then silence. Fallon looked up through film covered eyes, shaking her head and waiting for the momentary spell of weakness to pass. To her surprise, the Undertaker stood over her, a genuine look of concern etched in his features.

“Are you all right?” He asked softly, bending down to gently grab hold of her waist and raise her to her feet.

“Just some superficial wounds.” She murmured, shifting uncomfortably in his grasp.

‘Taker’s gaze strayed to her face. “Are you sure? You don’t feel nauseous or like you are about to black out, do you?”

Fallon shook her head. “No, I’m fine.” She pushed away from him, leaning against the wall for support. “Thanks… guess you following me tonight was a good thing.”

“I like to make sure my followers are all right.”

Fallon snorted.

“Come, I’ll walk you back to your hotel.” Without giving her time to reply, ‘Taker grabbed her arm firmly and guided her back out onto the street.

Fallon stared up at him. Half amazed, half annoyed. “You really are overbearing. Your wife must hate you.”

He met her eyes. “I have no wife.”

Fallon blushed as he smiled knowingly at her. “That’s probably a good thing. I doubt any woman would welcome your company for long.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “It’s irrelevant to me.” Then the Undertaker stopped and looked at her curiously. “For the time being.”

Fallon blushed again.


“If that son of a bitch thinks he’s getting away with this he’s wrong!” Shouted Stephanie, staring angrily at a tape of Shane in a discussion with the Undertaker. “My own brother! Conspiring against me! What a bastard!”

“Steph, calm down.” Soothed her husband, Triple H. “We’ll just have to end it all sooner than planned.”

“Like I didn’t know that?” She snarled, turning her raging eyes onto him.

Hunter shrank back from the intensity of her hate. “So we’ll just start taking out the Ministry one by one.”

Tori cleared her throat. “You had better started with Fallon.” She advised.

Triple H and Stephanie looked at her.

“She’s been spreading word about a revolution around the back.” Tori explained meekly. “A lot of the guys are giving serious thought to siding with the Dead Man.”

“Well well well…” Stephanie mused, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Looks like we found the reason the Undertaker wanted her in his little club. He needed a young blood to do his dirty work for him.”

“She does have a lot of influence in the back.” Tori added eagerly.

Stephanie surveyed her friend. “I see. Thank you for bringing it to my attention Tori.”

Hunter eyed his wife curiously, watching as she became immersed in thoughts, he could already see a plan forming in her mind.


“Hey Fal, how bout you slow down a minute and talk to me!”

Fallon halted, turning to watch Chris run up to her. “I’m kinda busy Chris, what’s up?”

“Just wondering how you were doing.” He said warmly. “And maybe ask you out.”

Fallon was floored. “Ask me out? As in grabbing a coffee or a date?”

“A date.” Chris grinned. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now, it’s just hard to catch you alone.”

She nodded. “I know. Listen, let me get back with you all right?” She smiled. “I’d really like to though, I’m just not sure about the time.”

He sighed dramatically. “Sure, go check your schedule. Maybe you can squeeze me in for ten minutes within the next year.”

Fallon swatted him playfully. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah yeah, run off and leave my heart broken.” He teased, waving her away.

Laughing, Fallon made way to the Ministry’s locker room.

Just as she was preparing to enter the room, X-Pac came out of nowhere and tackled her to the cement floor. He quickly clamped a hand over her mouth and began wailing on her, his blows landing on her face and torso. When he was finished, Fallon sported a broken nose, dislocated arm, numerous cuts on her face and what felt like a broken collar bone.

“Now take the hint and leave.” He spat in her face, pushing off the floor and rushing off.

Fallon lie there weakly, her face nothing but a mask of pain. She didn’t know how long she lay prostrate but finally managed to drag herself into a sitting position. She clutched the wall and pulled herself to her feet, bracing herself against the pain.


The Undertaker was going over the night’s upcoming events with the Ministry when the door swung open and Fallon fell to the floor with an audible thud.

Mideon was the first to reach her side. He gently rolled her onto her back, looking up to his master when he seen the damage.

‘Taker kneeled down next to her, gently feeling her upper body for breaks. “Bradshaw, Farooq,” He said softly. “Find out who did this.”

Bradshaw cracked his knuckles. “And then?”

“Make them suffer.”


Fallon woke up in a room that was painfully bright. Florescent lights were directly over her head, tubes were running down her throat and the room itself smelled unbearably sterile. It struck her then that she was in a hospital.

Groggily she tried sitting up, only to find when she reached a halfway position her head began to swim, forcing her to lie back down.

“Don’t try moving.”

Fallon gingerly turned her head to the speaker, her eyebrows knitting together when she found Sorcha sitting next to her.

“Do you remember what happened?”

Fallon nodded.

“Who attacked you?” Sorcha asked, then held up a hand. “I apologize. I can wait until those ghastly tubes are removed. I doubt you could talk around them anyway.”

Fallon smiled wanly, raising her arms to make an x.

“Well it’s obvious it was them, I meant…” Sorcha watched Fallon repeat the gesture. “X-Pac?”

Fallon nodded again.

Sorcha smiled grimly. “He’ll regret it before the night is over.”


Several weeks later found Fallon returned to work though still unable to fight. Her wounds were healing nicely; her nose had been reset and her collarbone was on the mend. She had hardly been out of Sorcha’s sight since the attack, Sorcha acting as a babysitter of sorts, much to Fallon’s annoyance.

Bradshaw and Farooq, clad in normal street wear since they wouldn’t be participating in the night’s events, escorted Fallon into the arena. She ignored the camera in front of them, hoping to catch them say something or make a gesture. None of the three gave the cameraman anything to work with so discouraged; he stopped filming and went off elsewhere.


The Undertaker was warming up for his impending match when the trio walked in. He nodded to them, continuing his exercise. “Fallon, you will remain here tonight. Bradshaw will be your guardian this evening.”

Fallon grimaced. “You know, I don’t exactly need adult supervision all the time.”

He stopped to glare at her. “Perhaps you’d like to be assaulted again?”

Fallon sank into a metal folding chair with a barely audible sigh.


The night wore on in much of the same way. Fallon was constantly hounded by Sorcha, unable to go anywhere without her tagging along. This hampered her plans as she had intended on going and seeing Chris. It would undoubtedly be awkward with one of the Ministry following. That and Fallon wasn’t keen to have the Undertaker know she was interested in someone.

Fallon and Sorcha watched the Undertaker’s match from the locker room, Fallon wishing she could out there, tired of seeing no action.

When the match was over, Sorcha made to leave. Fallon rose to follow her, sighing softly as she wondered, not for the first time, just what had she gotten herself into?

On their way out, Fallon spotted Chris, just as he seen her. She smiled in spite of herself, moving away from Sorcha and the rest of the Ministry to greet him.

“Hey Fal,” He said, smiling down at her and ignoring the group behind them. “You got an answer yet?”

“Oh jeez, no how ya doing?” She teased. “I’ve been in the hospital you know.”

He frowned. “I know. I sent you flowers, didn’t you get them?”

Now it was her turn to frown. “No, I didn’t. Thanks though.” Fallon reached out to squeeze his arm. “I appreciate it.”

Chris laughed softly. “So what do you say? Will you go out with me?”

“Maybe.” She said demurely. “I’m still debating on it.”

He mock pouted, moving so their bodies were almost touching. “That’s not nice Fallon, you keep leaving me hanging.”

She started to reply only to halt at the sight of the Undertaker stalking towards them, his green eyes flashing.

“What is going on here?” He demanded, taking hold of Fallon’s arm possessively and pulling her away from Chris, pinning her to his side.

“We’re just talking.” Chris said coldly.

The Undertaker narrowed his eyes, gazing down at the younger man scathingly. “Fallon belongs to me Jericho.”

Fallon stared up at him disbelieving. “How dare you!”

Sorcha placed a cautioning hand on Fallon’s shoulder.

Chris looked Fallon over intently before turning his attention back to the Undertaker. “Funny, don’t look it.”

Fallon winced when ‘Taker’s hold on her tightened.

The Undertaker surveyed Chris menacingly. “For now.” Was his cryptic response.


Fallon paced the floor of her hotel room, hands clasped behind her back. She had been deposited there over an hour ago. Nobody had said a word to her on the way there, all ignoring her presence as they conversed among each other. Fallon had changed into her black silk pajama bottoms, a white tank top and her blue robe, having made a few attempts to sleep, only to be up again pacing the floors.

Fallon stopped mid-pace when the door was opened, unlocked she supposed with another key card. She frowned as the Undertaker entered, freshly showered and now in his black velvet robe.

He stared at her, shutting the door behind him, his face unreadable.

“What the fuck do you want?” Fallon demanded, for once sounding truly genuine in her anger. Then without giving him a chance to say anything she continued; “You know, you really embarrassed me in front of Chris tonight. You’re aren’t my father or anything, you’re just an ally. Temporary at that.” Fallon crossed her arms over her chest, making a sound of frustration. “I can’t believe you did that!”

He eyed her silently. “And why not? Should I not be protective of you? Are you not an ordained member of Ministry?”

“Only because I was forced!” Fallon half shouted, picking up a vase and twisting it in her hands furiously.

“Forced?” The Undertaker’s temper was rising as quickly as her own. “Forced? You joined the Ministry as free willed as the next person!”

“As far as the world knows, none of them joined freely.”

He grimaced. “You know not of what you speak!” The Undertaker crossed the room to grab her about the arms, forcing her to drop the vase. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be dead by now Fallon! You have no idea in what you are involved!”

“I know what I’m not going to be involved in!” She tried to squirm out of his grasp. “I’m through with your stupid Ministry, I’m through with this whole war bullshit!”

“Do you honestly believe they’d let you?” He demanded, shaking her so hard her teeth rattled. “Do you think I would let you?”

Fallon’s black hair cascaded over her face as she began to cry, curling her fists and attempting to swing at him. “Let go of me damn you!”

The Undertaker breathed in sharply, grabbing a handful of her hair and jerking her head back so she had no choice but to look at him. “Never.” He said gravely, staring down at her pale face, watching impassively as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “This war is at its end. Tomorrow will be the final battle. Afterwards you will be permanently inducted into my order…”

Fallon shook her head no frantically, mumbling pleas to be released.

“As my wife.”


True to his word, the war was over. Shane had emerged victorious in the battle for control of the WWF. As a result, the Undertaker soon held the World Championship belt. Kane and Shadow had finally come back, no longer fearing the Faction as they once did. Now they were able to defend themselves freely as well as turn to Shane for protection if they needed it.

Fallon was kept under lock and key, guarded by Sorcha and normally one of the Acolytes. She dreaded her return to Raw, as it would be there that the Undertaker was planning to wed her. She had pleaded and fought him to no avail; he would not reconsider or release her. She had tried bribing her guards to aid her or at the least smuggle out a letter for her but they were steadfast in their loyalty to their master.


Shadow walked out of the bath smiling when she spotted Kane standing in front of the monitor. “What’s happening?” She asked, walking over to join him, resting her hand on his arm.


Shadow sighed, wishing to see her friend. “Well, good thing she’s back, it’s been awhile since we last saw her.” She said, focusing her attention on the screen, her face paling at what she beheld.

Fallon was being literally dragged to the ring in a long, black wedding gown; screaming and resisting against the delicate silver chains that were binding her wrists. Bradshaw was the one escorting her, pulling her to be precise, the look on his face showing annoyance with her.

When he reached the ring he picked her up about her waist, careful to avoid her thrashing limbs as she tried to fight him off. He merely jumped onto the ring with her and pulled her through the ropes, giving her a not so gentle nudge towards the Undertaker and the waiting Paul Bearer.

Shadow could only watch with dawning horror as she realized what was taking place. She pressed her hands to her mouth as she listened to Paul preach about matrimony in what was definitely the most grotesque mockery of a wedding she had ever witnessed, including Stephanie and Hunter’s.

“We have to stop them!” She exclaimed, starting towards the door only to find Kane holding her in place. “Kane, we have to help her!”

“And risk our lives?” He stared down at her sadly. “As well as Fallon’s. You don’t know my brother as well as I do, he would put all of us in our coffins without hesitation.”


“Even Fallon.” He insisted gently, placing a finger over her lips. “If he couldn’t have her, he’d make sure no one could.”

Shadow frowned, flinching when she spotted Chris Jericho running by, his long blonde hair streaming behind him. She broke free of Kane and rushed to the door, peering down the hallway.

Chris didn’t make it very far before he was intercepted by Farooq. Chris was met with a baseball bat to his abdomen. He doubled over only to be hit over the back. Gasping he lay on the floor, trying to crawl past his foe, just to have a boot planted on his neck.

“Forget her boy.” Farooq advised in his deep voice. “She belongs to Him now.”

“No…” Chris managed to choke out.

Shadow shrank back against the wall unaware that Kane was standing behind her, surveying the scene.

Farooq shook his head. “It’ll save you a lot of grief.” He said coldly, pressing down harder on Chris’ neck. “And a lot of injuries.”

Chris shuddered once before going limp.

Farooq snorted and walked off.


Fallon was dreaming, she had to be. No way could she be forced into a marriage, it wasn’t possible. Therefore, when she felt Sorcha place a pen in her hand, she balked. “No! I am not signing that paper!”

Sorcha gritted her teeth. “Oh yes, you are!” She grabbed hold of Fallon’s wrist and pushed her hand to the wedding certificate. “Sign it or I’ll find your friends and make them suffer!”

Fallon shook her head no, looking up at the Titan Tron in time to see Chris be beaten down. She knew there were tears running down her face but she was powerless to stop them.

Sorcha frowned, leaning in to whisper: “Next time, I’ll make sure he’s dead.”

Fallon reacted to the threat and scrawled her signature next to the Undertaker’s. She dropped the pen and buried her face in her hands, shaking her head like this was nothing but a nightmare.

The Undertaker nodded to Sorcha. “You did well.” Then he turned to his unwilling bride. “Put it behind you Fallon, he was not worthy of you.”

Fallon glared at him from red-rimmed eyes. “And you are? You are nothing but a kidnapper. You are worthless! You mean nothing to me while he means the world.”

His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. “Well then my dear,” He grabbed her elbow and roughly pulled her towards the ropes. “I’ll just have to serve you the ‘world’ on a silver platter as a wedding present.”


Fallon was unceremoniously dropped off at her new home with no one but Sorcha to keep her company. It was a large estate, somewhere west from what she had been able to see. Fallon was shown to a large bedroom, frowning when she realized that it must be the Undertaker’s.

“You’ll share this room with your husband.” Sorcha gestured, staring at Fallon. “As you see we’ve equipped it with all you will need. Most of your personal items have been brought from your old apartment and the wardrobe is stocked with new clothes. Anything else we can order.” Sorcha pointed to a stack of catalogs sitting on a table. “You’ve been granted funs to do with as you please, the Undertaker has graciously given you permission to do what you would to make yourself at home.”

“As long as I don’t leave.” Fallon sneered in contempt.

Sorcha nodded. “My brother is presently away on business but will return in a week’s time. I’ll come back tonight to collect your order forms.”

Fallon watched as her new sister-in-law walked out, shutting and locking the door behind her. Sighing, Fallon surveyed the room. The walls were painted gray, the draperies were a heavy black material and the carpet was black as well. In the center of the room was a large canopy bed covered in all black.

Snorting she took in the rest of the room, eyeing the expensive furniture and painting that adorned it.

With a sigh, Fallon sat at the table, pulling the magazines towards her. If she had to be here, she smiled; she might as well enjoy herself.


It was two weeks before the Undertaker came home. A fatigued Sorcha at the door met him. “What’s wrong?” He demanded, taking in her pale countenance.

Sorcha smiled, her face lined with tension. “It’s good to have you home my Lord.” She greeted calmly. “I’m sure you’re wanting to see your wife.”

He nodded. “And how is Fallon faring?”

“Thriving, you might say.” Sorcha waved a weary hand towards the kitchen. “She’s in there, I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Go rest.” He instructed, feeling slightly curious in spite of himself.

Sorcha nodded, hastily leaving.

Slowly the Undertaker headed for the kitchen, unsure of what he’d fine. He froze in the doorway when he spotted Fallon sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. True, she wasn’t in the clothes he had picked out for her, instead she was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves cut off. Her long black hair had been tied in a messy bun and there was… paint…. He thought, on her face. He took a step toward her, halting when a warning bark came from under the table.

Fallon looked up and smiled coolly. “You startled Rab.” She stated, reaching down to pet the head of a Great Dane.

“I don’t believe I gave permission for you to bring pets here.”

Fallon shrugged. “I don’t know what you gave permission for and I frankly don’t care.” She finished off her coffee before gesturing around the room. “Like it?”

For the first time he focused on the kitchen itself, frowning when he seen that she had painted over the plain gray walls in a cheery yellow, trading his plain black curtains at the windows in for yellow and checked ones. Then he spotted the huge china cabinet in the corner, proudly displaying brand new dinner plates; fine white china with yellow roses painted on them.

“What have you done to my house?” He demanded.

Fallon arched an eyebrow. “Your house?” She stood up, placing her mug in the dishwasher, also a new addition. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who forced me to marry you; deposited me in this tomb you call a house and gave me the means to do what I wished. I wished to redecorate.”

He snorted. Two weeks wasn’t a very long time, undoubtedly she had only done the kitchen.

As if reading his mind Fallon smiled mockingly. “I’ve redone most of the house just so you know.”

Leaving her there he began to tour his home, his face growing graver and graver when he seen what she had done. In place of his dark colors, she had redone the rooms in lighter shades, giving them a woman’s touch and had obviously done her best to bring warmth into the house, mostly just to spite him he assumed.

When he reached their bedroom, he leaned in the doorway, groaning. She had painted the walls a light pink with a dark blue border; replaced the bedding with tones of pink and blue; pulled up his shag carpet and polished the wooden floors underneath.

Everything in the house had been done to her tastes, or at least in what she thought would disgust him.

“How do you like it?” Fallon asked sweetly from behind him.

‘Taker turned slowly, glaring down at her. “What have you done?”

“Made it pleasant.” She goaded. “Now it looks like a woman lives here instead of a psychotic old man.”

He reacted as if he would slap her, making himself stop before actually did. With one last dark look, he walked away from her, forcing himself to ignore her laughs of delight at his expense no less.


Fallon sighed happily, lifting her wineglass to her lips as she reflected on the day. So far, her ‘husband’ had been avoiding her since his welcome home greeting. She had been free to carry on as she wished, finishing her work on placing flowers around the dark house, now working on brightening the landscape.

Right now she was celebrating a hard days work with a bubble bath in the large garden tub. Her favorite classical music was playing on the stereo and she had Rab sitting by the door to protect her.

Her expression changed to one of dread as she thought of how she had been sleeping alone until now. Surely he wouldn’t expect to share the bed with her? Fallon set aside her now empty glass and stood up, reaching absent-mindedly for a robe.

Rab stared up at his mistress, whining softly as if to sympathize with her plight.

Fallon smiled down at him, running a brush through her damp hair, lost in thought.


The Undertaker was perched on the bed staring in disgust at the short furs that indicated that the dog had been sleeping in his spot. He looked up as Fallon walked out of the adjoining bathroom clad in white silk pajamas with Rab at her heels.

“You’re in his spot.” She said icily.

He stood up. “He will sleep on the floor or in a grave Fallon, you decide.”

“You can’t do that!”

“This is my house and you are my wife.” ‘Taker glared at her. “You will share this  bed with me, not some damn dog!”

“I don’t want to be your wife!” She shouted. “You forced me!”

He grabbed the dog by its collar and dragged it from the room, slamming the door shut behind him as he reentered. Next, he pulled of the plain black tee shirt he wore, standing before her in just his sweat pants. “This conversation is over Fallon. Now get in bed or are you going to force me to do that as well?”

Resentfully, Fallon slipped under the comforter, never taking her eyes off of him. She frowned when he turned off the lights but left the curtains open. In the light of the moon she could make out his silhouette standing over her. “What do you want? You sleep on the other side.”

The Undertaker let out a laugh. “Who said anything about sleeping?”


It was months before Fallon returned to Raw. She made a brief appearance to relinquish her belt, passing it on to Shadow. She was quickly ushered out of the building, not having time to speak a word to anyone.

The Undertaker continued fighting though he eventually lost the title to Triple H and sustained an injury in the process that shelved him.

After their first night together, he barely spoke to her, the next day he had moved his possessions to another bedroom, not saying anything as he did.

Fallon wasn’t sorry to see him go.

She was regretting his time off as it meant that he would be around more often. She needn’t have worried. He took to riding out in the desert often on one of his many motorcycles, only to come home late at night and disappear in his bedroom.

Fallon didn’t complain. She was often lonely but managed to keep herself occupied. She planted gardens out in the large back yard, flowerbeds in the front. She landscaped when the weather permitted and when it didn’t applied herself to learning something new.

She also worked out regularly in the gym, keeping herself in shape though she figured it didn’t matter, she’d probably never wrestle again as long as her ‘husband’ had anything to say about it.

As his disappearances gave way to months at a time, Fallon became more brave, sneaking out letters. She was surprised to find one in the mailbox one morning. Even more shocked at who it was from. It read:



I hope you get this though with the Dead Man guarding you like some dog, I doubt it. Why haven’t you been coming to work? Are you all right? I worry about you all the time. I’ve tried to forget you like Farooq told me but it’s impossible. I keep wondering what might have been if you had accepted my date when I first asked you out.

If you get this and can reply, let me know that you’re all right. Tell me if you’re happy and I’ll leave you alone forever. If not, let me help you. We can find some way to get you out of there.


P.S. If you’re wondering how I got this address, Kane found it for me. Seems Sorcha and her dear brother ‘Taker aren’t getting along very well these days.


Fallon held the letter against her chest, sighing softly. It was news to her about Sorcha. But then since she had been out here all contact with the world had ceased. She had only her radio for news; there were no televisions anywhere. That and whatever the Undertaker would tell her when he did briefly speak to her.

Fallon hurried to write a response.


When the Undertaker returned home, it was as a different man. He had been away for nearly three months this time. He stepped through the door and shook his now auburn, shoulder length hair back away from his face, reaching into the back pocket of his blue jeans for a bandana. He quickly tied it around his head, mildly annoyed with having to keep flicking his hair back. He glanced around for Fallon, aware that the sight of him would shock her.

The thought caused him to grin. It would be a change for her to look at him with something other than contempt in her eyes. He headed for her bedroom, certain that’s where she’d be.

The door was open so he didn’t bother knocking, stepping in quietly, taking note that in the nine months since that fateful night she had once again changed the bedroom’s décor; this time opting for gold and silver as her colors and inspiration. He watched her as she was bent over her cherry desk, immersed in writing something. He frowned when he seen an open letter near her.

Rab lifted his enormous head and growled, baring his teeth.

Fallon looked up in time to see a hand reaching for the letter Chris had sent. She tried to frantically snatch it back but couldn’t. She gasped, finding her husband returned and apparently changed.

The look on his face grew darker and darker and she felt a knot of fear building in her stomach. When he finished reading it, he crumpled the paper in one fist, turning his vengeful gaze onto her.

Fallon sprang to her feet, quickly moving away from him.

“How long have you been writing to him?” He demanded.

Fallon hesitated. “Look, ‘Taker…”

He held up a hand. “You will call me Mark from now on, wife.” He wiped everything off her desk, paying no attention to her protests. “Listen to me well because I’m not repeating anything. You are mine. I want no communication between you and that boy. Understand?”

Fallon’s eyes sparked flames. “You can go to hell! What do you expect? Leaving me here alone so long! I’m not some toy you can keep locked up and play with whenever it’s convenient!”

“You are my wife!”

“Not in my heart!” She whispered fiercely. “Not in my heart.”


Chris froze the moment he seen Fallon walk into the arena next to her husband. Both were in jeans and denim vests. He smiled at her only to be ignored. Hurt he walked back to his locker room, trying to squash the feeling of hope that had started fluttering in his chest.

The night for him wore on slowly and painfully. He did his match, won and showered. He lingered at the arena, hoping to see Fallon again. He sighed when she didn’t go out with ‘Taker for his match and prepared to leave, knowing that she was probably locked up somewhere.


He looked up, a smile brightening his features when he saw Fallon standing in his doorway, a nervous grin on her face. “Fal!” He hurried over to pull her into his arms, as he wanted to do so many times before. He held her tightly, stroking her back. “God, I’ve been so worried about you.”

Fallon enjoyed the embrace, returning it after a moment, her face buried in his chest.

He frowned when he felt her shoulders bobbing and looked down, gently tilting her chin up. “Why are you crying Fal?” He asked softly.

“Because I’ve missed you.” She whispered. “Because I’ve been dreaming of this for so long now.”

“Come on, let me take you out of here.” He urged.

Fallon shook her head. “He’d find us Chris. He’ll never let me go.”

“What choice would he have?” Chris pleaded. “Let me protect you!”

She looked lost and miserable. Finally she reached up and pulled him down to her, kissing him with total abandonment, threading her fingers in his hair.

Chris returned the kiss fervently, molding their bodies together, trying to express all the love and passion he felt in that one moment, knowing that it wouldn’t last.

They were pulled apart with a suddenness that sent them both reeling. Fallon was tossed into the wall while Chris felt himself being lifted into the air.

“Mark, stop!” Fallon screamed, tossing her at her husband.

“Keep away from her!” Mark ordered, his green eyes locked onto Chris’. “I catch you near her, trying to talk to her, every again and I’ll kill you both.”

Chris went to reply only to have his head slammed into the concrete wall. Stars flared in front of him.

Fallon fell to her knees, wrapping her arms around Mark’s legs. “Please, don’t hurt him anymore!” She begged, sobbing loudly. “Please Mark, please!”

Mark stared down at his wife, breathing heavily. He bent down and grabbed her roughly by her upper arm. “Look at him!” He commanded. “Look!”

Crying louder, Fallon did.

“If you want him to live, then you’ll stay away from him, understand?”

She nodded, gasping noisily.

Angrily, he tossed her over his shoulder and stalked off.


Fallon sat fearfully on the neatly made hotel room bed, her eyes locked on the door. Mark had left her there before leaving, not saying a word. She heard him at the door and winced, remembering how furious his temper was.

He walked in, slamming the door shut behind him. His gaze was unfocused and he reeked of whiskey. “What are you looking at?” He demanded, kicking off his boots and shrugging away his vest.

Fallon shook her head and averted her stare, looking down at the blanket and picking at it’s seams, fear and anger welling up in in an odd combination.

“You, my dear wife, are a slut.” He said, enunciating carefully, apparently not as drunk as she would have guessed.

Fallon looked at him shocked, her black eyes narrowing hatefully.

“You keep me from your bed and then turn around and fling yourself into another man’s arms.” He continued, now stripping off the rest of his clothes.

Fallon could see where this was heading and stood up. “If you think for one second Mark that I am going to lie here and let you… Hurt me again, you’re more nuts than I originally thought.”

“Hurt you?” He sneered, now walking towards her. “You don’t think it hurt me to watch you with Chris? To watch you give another man what you’ve so long denied me?”

“What do you expect you moron?” She shouted, losing control. “You forced me to marry you! You’re bitch sister threatened my friends; you let your men beat Chris to a bloody pulp! And you think I’m just going to say hey why don’t we forget about it and go to the bedroom?”

He didn’t answer, his cat like eyes fastening on her face. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, reaching out to lightly touch her cheek. “And so strong. I wanted you the moment you joined us. I still want you even though you despise me and wish me dead.”


Fallon stepped back, her legs hitting the bed and almost making her buckle. “You can’t have me.” She stated firmly. “You’ll never have me.”

“Neither will anyone else.” He vowed darkly, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her down. “If I can’t have you, no one can.”


It was to her immense sorrow that several months later Fallon found herself pregnant. Mark had moved his belongings back into her bedroom and was nightly forcing himself on her. Some nights a brief spark of pleasure coursed through her, only for her to shove it away, reminding herself who this was and what he had done.

During the day he focused on his motorcycles, occasionally going out of his way to pay her some attention, only to have her ignore or rebuff him. It got to the point she’d start walking out of a room whenever he entered it.

When Fallon discovered her plight she buried herself under a mound of blankets, curled up with Rab. She sighed heavily when she heard the door creak open. “What do you want? There’s still an hour left of daylight, it’s a little early to be raping me isn’t it?”

He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blankets back. “What’s your problem?”


“Oh really?”

“You and the fact that you knocked me up.”

Mark frowned. “What?”

Fallon sat up, glaring at him. “You heard me. I’m going to have your bastard.”

He slapped her.

Fallon fell back, holding the side of her face.

“How long have you known?”

“Just today.”

Mark stroked his goatee thoughtfully, studying her. “You’re sure it’s mine?”

“No, it’s Rab’s.” Came the sarcastic response.

He nodded solemnly. “Good. You will give me my heir. You shall be well rewarded for this.”

Fallon sat up and slapped him. “You think I want this baby for a reward? I don’t want this child period! But since I doubt there’s anything I can do about it, you can bet your ass I’ll do my best to raise this child to hate you as much as I do!”

“Oh I don’t think so Fallon.” He said grimly, baring his teeth unpleasantly. “You see, once you have born me this child, I think I’ll cast you aside and let you have your freedom back. That should suit you.”

Fallon was aghast.

“Now my dear wife, I believe it’s time for us to have our own bedrooms again.” With that, Mark stood up and left her alone with her thoughts.


Mark went back on the road again, once more wrestling; leaving Fallon alone at the house, something she was rapidly growing accustomed too. True to his word, they no longer shared a bedroom. He no longer came to her in the middle of the night, presumably to see that no harm came to the baby.

Fallon occupied herself with long walks, finding with each month that passed it was becoming harder to immerse herself into work, her increasing size no longer allowed it. She never gave the baby much thought, growing indifferent to it, taking to haunting the house in black dresses.

It all changed the first time she felt her baby move.

Fallon had been strolling the flowerbeds, bending down to study the lilies that were rising when she felt it. Gasping, she straightened up, her hands moving to her stomach questioningly. There it was again. For the first time, Fallon felt like akin to love blossoming for her unborn child.

That was the day she gave up her blacks for lighter shades, favoring yellow the most. She affected a swinging gait, often singing or humming as she walked. She began to work in earnest on a nursery across the hall from her bedroom, spending most of her time in there: painting walls; refinishing furniture. All in neutral shades of yellow since she had no idea what the gender of her child would be.


It came as a shock to Mark to one day come home and find his wife sitting at a sewing machine, happily making baby clothes, occasionally looking at a pattern in a book. He stood in the doorway and watched her, marveling for the umpteenth time at her beauty, which was now enhanced with a glow.

Fallon looked up at him and for the first time in over a year smiled at him. It was a sweet, warm smile that surprised him even more. “When did you get home?”

“Just a few minutes ago.” He replied, sinking into a nearby chair, mildly astonished. “What are you doing?”

She reached into a wicker basket that sat next to her beside Rab and pulled out a tiny nightgown. “Making baby clothes. I’ve ordered some in various sizes but I figured this might be cheaper.”

“You’re worried about money?”

“Not really. It gives me something to do.”

Mark nodded, not sure how to act or what to say, afraid he might ruin her mood. He was seeing Fallon in an entirely new light and didn’t the moment spoiled.

Fallon returned to her work, humming softly.

Mark stood up and left the room, wandering down the hallway, stopping at the open door across from Fallon’s room and peering in. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the freshly painted, newly furnished nursery, for obviously that was what it was. There were new yellow curtains up, a small chest sitting at the end of a cradle covered in teddy bears. Apparently while he was gone Fallon had a change of heart.


The next few weeks were peaceful. Mark and Fallon got along quite well. Fallon was daily impressing him with her resourcefulness and her ability to absorb knowledge and leanr new trades.

Then one evening they had a visitor.

Sorcha showed up unexpectedly and unannounced out of the clear blue. She took in Fallon’s condition with a blank stare, turning to her brother.

Fallon excused herself, not wanting to intrude and going to rest in her bedroom, humming a lullabye as she caressed her belly. She must have fallen asleep because the next ting that she knew was that Sorcha was standing over her, a mug in her hand.

“What’s that?” Fallon asked with a yawn, pulling herself into a sitting position.



Mark sat in silence, relieving the conversation he just had with Sorcha. Apparently, he had a title shot coming soon if he would only make appearances and take it. Sighing he stood up and walked towards the kitchen. It wasn’t that he didn’t want the belt back, he did. He just didn’t want to leave Fallon alone right now any more than he had too and he didn’t think being on the road at the moment would be good for her or the baby.

He froze in the doorway, his green eyes narrowing in on the counter. Resting there was a little twig, something he would normally have guessed to be from Fallon’s herb garden but there was a red juice surrounding it. He went over and picked the twig up, sniffing it.

“Mistletoe.” He mused, wondering what mistletoe would be doing there.

Then he spotted the steaming kettle on the stove.


Fallon was standing up now, studying Sorcha warily, and never hiding the fact that she didn’t trust her sister-in-law. “What kind of tea?” She asked politely, looking down into the cup she had taken.

Sorcha smiled. “Ginseng. It’ll help with the baby.”

Nodding, Fallon raised the cup to her mouth but didn’t drink any, feeling how hot it was just by touching the rim. “I think I’ll just let it cool off for a moment.”

Sorcha glanced back at the door. “It really is best when it’s hot.” She watched intently as Fallon once again lifted the mug and took a long swallow, then another.

“Stop!” They turned to see Mark burst into the room, his red hair flying about his shoulders, eyes wild with fright. “Don’t drink that!”

Fallon swallowed what she had in her mouth, staring at him mildly alarmed. “What’s the matter? It’s just ginseng.”

“No, it’s not.” He approached his sister menacingly. “Is it Sorcha?”

Sorcha merely stared up at him coldly.

“What is it then?” Fallon demanded, glancing at one sibling then the other.

“Mistletoe.” Mark spat, grabbing Sorcha’s arms and shaking her. “Why?”

“What’s going on?” Fallon poured the rest of the tea into a potted plant. “Mark?”

Sorcha was trying to poison the baby.” He said, not taking his eyes off his sister.  “Weren’t you?”

Sorcha nodded sullenly. “It was for your own good.”

Fallon clasped her hands to her mouth, suddenly feeling very sick.

Mark glanced at his wife. “Relax darlin’, I’ll take care of this.”

Sorcha visibly wilted. “My Lord, I did it for you.” She pleaded.

He ignored her protests, dragging her from the room.

Still not comprehending, Fallon sank into a nearby chair, trying to figure out what just happened. Mistletoe? She tried to remember what she had learned about the properties of the plant in her studies. Then like a tidal wave it hit her full force.

Mistletoe would cause her to abort her baby.

It seemed like hours before Mark returned, his face haggard. “Did you drink any?” He asked, kneeling before her.

She nodded, beginning to cry.


It wasn’t much longer after that when Fallon miscarried in a hospital not to far away. They had done all they could to prevent it, but the deadly plant did it’s work.

Mark sat in the waiting room, staring blankly at the far wall, unable to digest what had occurred. All his hopes had suddenly been dashed. He and Fallon had begun to finally work things through, now all their efforts seemed futile. Sighing, he buried his head in his hands, cursing Sorcha.


Somehow it wasn’t surprising when a month later, Fallon left him.

He knew it was  coming, she had barely spoken a word to him since her release from the hospital. He didn’t try to stop her as she walked out of the house and into the waiting cab, taking nothing with her except the clothes she had come with, Rab at her heels. It would be the last he’d see of her for several months.


Trish Stratus stood in the ring waiting for her opponent for the Women’s Championship title match, smirking at the ramp way, wondering who she’d be facing.

Imagine her surprise when Fallon came walking out.


Chris stared at the monitor wide eyed, hardly believing what he saw. Fallon had cut her long, black hair to chin length, bright red streaks ran throughout it haphazardly. She wore a pair of black leather pants and a red tank top, looking very different from her normal self.

He watched as she proceeded to beat the hell out of Trish and regain the title. Curiously he made his way to the ring entrance to wait for her.


Fallon smiled when she spotted Chris walking towards her, hoisting the belt onto her shoulder and hurrying to greet him. “Hey handsome.”

“Hey yourself.” He beamed down at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Winning back my belt of course.” Fallon knew what he meant and shrugged. “He let me go, it’s over.”

“This calls for a celebration.”


Mark watched as his wife left the arena with Chris, frowning slightly; feeling the old jealously and possessiveness come over him. He forced himself to think about his match, she wasn’t his any longer.


Fallon giggled as Chris led her through the dance club, trying not to get enclosed by the various people out on the floor. She nodded her head to the beat, moving in time with him. “I almost forgot how much fun this is!” She yelled over the music.

Chris grinned down at her. “You need to get out more.”

She nodded, wondering for a brief second what she would be doing now if she hadn’t lost her baby. Shrugging it off, Fallon danced on.


Mark had allowed his old friend Kevin to drag him out and now he regretted it. Seated at a corner table he watched as Fallon danced with Chris. He finished off his beer and ordered another one, trying to ignore how good she looked in a red beaded halter top, black flouncy skirt and black leather, knee high boots.

Kevin seated himself across from his friend, looking back to see what had attracted his attention. “Man, forget her.” He said softly.

Mark smiled slightly. “She never looked that happy when she was with me.”

“Man, what did you expect bro? You did force her into marrying you.”

“Nash, back off.”

Kevin shook his head.


“Oh my god that was awesome!” Fallon exclaimed, pulling Chris to the bar. “Screwdriver.” She ordered, leaning back to watch the other dancers.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asked, bending down so she could hear him.

“Uh huh.” She grinned at him, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him down for a quick kiss. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Chris flushed with pleasure. “I’m just glad I finally got my date.”

Fallon frowned, spotting Mark staring at her from a corner. “How bout we get out of here?”

“What about your drink?”

“I don’t want it anymore.”

He frowned, looking around. “What’s the matter Fal?”

She leaned in closer to him. “He’s here.”

“Who? ‘Taker?”


Chris wrapped an arm around her protectively. “All right, let me take you back to your hotel room.”

She nodded.


Mark stared at Fallon’s door for at least five minutes before deciding to knock. He didn’t know why he was there, perhaps the amount of alcohol he had imbibed had something to do with it. He waited impatiently for her to answer the door, frowning when he heard whispered voices coming from inside.

Finally, Fallon opened the door a crack. She was in her blue silk robe, her hair tousled about her face. “What do you want?”

“I want to talk to you.”

“Now isn’t a good time.” She glanced back over her shoulder.

Mark frowned. “You got someone in there with you?”

“So what if I do? Not that it’s any of your concern.” Fallon glared up at him.

“We’re still married woman, you had best remember that.” He snapped. “I gave you your freedom back and I can take it away just as quickly.”

“No, you can’t Mark.” Fallon whispered firmly. “I’m not that person anymore.”

Fal, is everything all right?”

Mark tensed when he heard Chris’ unmistakable voice.

Fallon stared at him, daring him to say something.

Mark clenched his fists when Chris appeared behind Fallon, wrapped in a sheet.

“Everything all right?” Chris asked her, his eyes on Mark distrustfully.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Right Mark?”



“So what’s on the agenda today?”

Fallon looked at Chris from the vanity mirror and smiled. “I have a photo shoot in a couple of hours, after that I’m free until tonight.”

He nodded, standing up, yawning and stretching simultaneously. “Sounds good. I’ll be in the gym for a while anyway.”

“Yeah, you’re getting a gut.” She teased.

“Ha ha ha.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “You’re hilarious.”

“I know.” Fallon finished applying lotion to her arms before rising as well. “I got to get going, lord knows how it takes them forever to do my makeup.”

“Do you blame them?” He kissed her cheek. “I’d want to look at that beautiful face for as long as I could too.”


Fallon did the photo shoot as well as an interview. When the magazine hit the stores a couple of weeks later, her picture graced the cover. She wore a pair of red leather pants and a black corset top with black boots. Her hair had been left hanging down to her chin and she was sitting backwards on a metal folding chair, the belt resting on her knee.


Inside there was a whole section devoted to her. Pictures, information and the interview itself.


Mark had locked himself in his room with the magazine, hating himself for his eagerness to read what she had to say. He studied the photos and smiled wistfully, remembering the fire that had attracted him to her in the first place. Finally he flipped to what he wanted to read most.


MAG: Where to start? You’ve had an interesting career in the WWE. For the past couple of years everyone has been watching what goes on in your life curiously, where should we start?

FAL: Obviously most people want to know about myself and the Undertaker. That would probably be a good place.

MAG: Of course. What was it like being married to him? You are still married to him?

FAL: Yeah, we’re still married. Um… as for what it was like? I don’t know, I barely spoke to him the entire time we were living together. It’s hard to put the animosity aside when your spouse forced you into the marriage you know?

MAG: Rumor has it there was a baby.

FAL: There was. I miscarried.

MAG: So where do you two stand now?

FAL: We’re separated. After we lost the baby, I left. Now we’re doing our own things, I imagine one of us will file for divorce any day now.

MAG: Do you have any feelings for ‘Taker?

FAL: Not the kind you’re implying, no. We had started to become friends, now I don’t know what we are. Can we get off this topic now?

MAG: Certainly, certainly. You were gone for over a year and as soon as you came back, you won the gold. What’s next?

FAL: Fight some more, maybe expand into the other areas of wrestling you know? It’d be neat to hold another belt besides this one. I always did want to go for the tag titles, just never found a suitable partner.

MAG: What about your longtime friend Chris Jericho?

FAL: I was wondering when you were going to bring him up! Chris is a great guy but he has his own title to worry about plus contending for the Heavyweight championship, he really doesn’t need me for a distraction.

MAG: From the sounds of things, you’re already a distraction. Is there something going on there?

FAL: Maybe. All I’m going to say is Chris and I have known each other for a long time, we’re friends.

MAG: Okay, fair enough. You got your start in the WWE as Psycho Sid’s valet, you were barely twenty at the time, one of the youngest superstars at the time and one of the most underestimated. Your relationship with Sid ended rather badly to put it mildly. It was, in fact, your husband who aided you then…

FAL: Yeah. Sid and I were fighting a lot back then and the Undertaker heard one of our more… violent arguments. He intervened and Sid kicked me to the curb so I struck out on my own and here I am.

MAG: Just because it’s a mystery to many of us, can you elaborate on the downfall of your relationship with Sid?

FAL: I don’t think it matters anymore. I haven’t seen him since he left the company and I’m hoping to keep it that way, you know?


Mark snorted and tossed the magazine across the room. Friends, yeah right. He didn’t dwell much on the Sid thing, that was long over. As far as he knew, Sid had completely left Fallon alone, not that he cared anymore.


She was gorgeous, he had to admit it, and in black leather pants and a brick red poets shirt; she was a vision, even with her hair as short as a man’s and streaked. Mark shook his head, turning the monitor off so he wouldn’t see Fallon’s title defense against Molly Holly. He didn’t care who won, after all, what did she matter to him. He finished dressing and opened his locker room door, disconcerted to find Fallon down the hall, jumping into an awaiting Chris’ arms, laughing with her head tossed back as he spun her around in circles.


Fallon rested her head atop of Chris’, smiling happily, her eyes closed. When she opened them she spotted Mark and frowned slightly, her eyebrows drawing together at the expression on his face. He looked shocked and inured.

She watched him disappear down the all and shook her head. “So, now that we’re done here, how bout we go dancing?”

“Again?” Chris lowered her to the ground. “Don’t you get tired of dancing?”


He laughed. “All right then, let’s go.”


He watched as Fallon moved out on the crowded dance floor. How different she looked these days with her punk hair and equally distracting costume of a black velvet suit with a halter style top. He felt himself grinning as he studied her intently. Underneath all the make-up and glamour he could detect the innocent girl he had known.


“Oh you have got to be kidding me!” Fallon screeched, distress clearly etched on his pale face.

Chris looked over her shoulder and bit his lip. On the board in block letters it clearly stated that Fallon would be teaming with the Undertaker in a handicap match against an unknown opponent.

“What the hell are they playing at?” She hissed, stalking away furiously.

“Calm down babe.” Chris soothed, chasing after her. “One match won’t kill you.”

She stopped to glare at him. “It’s not that, it’s the principal.Those fuck wads in the office know what’s going on with ‘Taker and I, they’re fucking capitalizing!”

“That’s their job.”


Fallon met Mark near the entranceway, approaching him awkwardly. “Do you know who we’re fighting?”

“No.” Mark looked down at her. “You look nice.”


They walked out when his music came on, making their way to the ring amidst cheers from the fans. After sliding in the ring they stood in respective corners, staring anywhere but at each other.

Mark stared at Fallon as an all too familiar theme sounded from the speakers. She had gone a deathly white and was clutching the ropes tightly, fear written clearly on her face and in her eyes.

He quickly crossed the canvas to her, folding her into his arms as he watched Psycho Sid saunter down the ramp, a smirk on his face. “It’ll be all right.” He soothed, stroking her hair. “I’m here.” He gently pulled her over to their corner. “Just stay here on the apron and I’ll do the fighting.”

Fallon shook her head, her hair swaying about her face. “What’s he doing here Mark? Why now?” She closed her eyes. “I should have never done that article.”

Mark didn’t reply, just gently nudged her out of the ring as Sid climbed inside.

“Hey Fallon sweetheart,” He crooned. “How have you been?”

“Leave her alone Sid.” Mark cautioned darkly.

“Yeah, or what?”

“That’s my wife you’re messing with.”

Sid snorted, locking up with him. “So? Last I read, you two were separated.”

Fallon watched as the two men clashed, exchanging blows and words. She winced every time Sid looked in her direction.

Fallon gasped when Sid knocked Mark out of the ring, watching her husband land heavily on the Spanish announcer’s table. She knew he was out for the moment and looked dreadingly towards Sid, knowing she’d have to get in and fight now.

“Come on Fallon, let’s see what you’ve learned.” Sid coaxed sinsisterly. “Maybe I can teach you a couple of new things.”

Hesitantly she got into the ring, pacing around him, waiting for him to lash out. Finally she tackled his knees, surprising him and taking him of his feet. Knowing she wasn’t going to be able to do much damage, Fallon threw herself on top of him and began punching his head, hoping against hope that she could somehow end this quickly.

Sid recovered and grabbed her wrists, tossing her across the ring so hard she bounced off the ropes and landed face first on the canvas. “Nice Fallon, that wasn’t your best was it?”

Fallon got to her feet, glancing over at Mark, relief flaring through her when she seen her was coming too. “Leave me alone Sid!”

Sid picked her up by the throat, bringing her face to face with him. “Don’t you remember how good it was between us sweetheart? It could be like that again.”

“No!” Fallon kicked feebly at him, clawing at his hands. “It won’t!”

He kissed her hard on the mouth before chokeslamming her.


Fallon woke up in Mark’s arms, still in the ring. “Did we win?” She whispered, wincing as a medic flashed a bright light in her eyes.

“Yeah.” He said softly, stroking her face. “How’re you feeling?”

“My back is killing me. Other than that, okay.” She gingerly sat up, waving of the EMT’s. “Where’s he now?”

“Don’t know Fallon, he left as soon as he lost.”

Fallon fell back against him. “It’s just starting then. All over again.”


Chris was waiting backstage along with Shadow and Kane. They swarmed around Fallon as soon as she and Mark appeared.

“Are you all right?” Shadow cried, hugging Fallon tightly.

“I was.” Fallon joked, wincing in pain.

Kane nodded to his brother, noticing the pained expression he wore as Chris gently held Fallon before nodding back and walking away. “Fal, how bout you head to the hotel before Sid comes back?”

“I don’t think he will.” She said quietly. “He’ll lie low for a night or two.”

Chris signed into her hair. “If it’s not one man wanting you, it’s another.”

Fallon turned in his arms. “You’re not kidding.”


“You love her don’t you?”

Mark turned to find Chris standing behind him, an anguished look on his face. “What?”

“Fallon, you love her.”

“I wish I could deny it.”

“Then why did you let her go?” Chris demanded.

Mark sighed. “And have her hate me? We had just started being happy together when she miscarried. When we lost our baby, we lost our chance at happiness with each other.” He ran a hand through his long auburn hair. “You make her smile boy, don’t mess it up.”

“I didn’t plan on it. I just needed to know.”


Fallon sank deeper into the tub, lazily petting Rab’s head as he leaned against the wall. She wished for a moment she could just sink under the water and never come up. She was condused slightly when it came to Mark. The look of genuine concern on face tonight had shocked and touched her deeply. They way he had fought for her had also touched her. It made her wonder.


Chris stared blankly at the wall, his mind in chaos. He knew what he had seen tonight. He had seen the agony in Mark’s face when he held Fallon, seen the love and yearning as well as the restraint. For a brief moment he could have sworn he seen the same reflected in Fallon’s face. She had never profressed a hatred for her husband, just a sadness whenever she talked about him.

He was guessing he would never own her heart one hundred percent. He knew it wasn’t going to last, they were already beginning to drift apart, reverting to their old ways of friendly bantering. He could tell when he held her that her mind was elsewhere.

As much as it hurt, he knew he was going to have to let her go.


Fallon stared at the empty room, her hair still damp. She hadn’t heard Chris leave but when she seen the note and read it, she understood. Feeling a mixture of relief and sorrow, she sank onto the bed, smiling as Rab nuzzled her knee and whined sympathetically.

She knew she had lost a lover but kept her friend.


“May I come in?”

Mark looked up from his spot on the bench where he had been lacing his boots when he heard Fallon’s voice. He nodded, curious as to what had brought her. “What’s up?”

“Just thought I’d come see how you were doing.” She said softly, sitting down in a metal folding chair opposite him. “I noticed you were fighting Sid tonight.”

“Yeah, the bastard specifically requested a match against me.”

“I hope you win.” Fallon told him sincerely.


Sid watched Fallon as she changed into her work clothes, completely oblivious to the fact that he was standing behind her. She pulled her purple corset top over her black velvet pants, lacing the front up tightly, reaching up to lightly finger her now jet black hair. She was debating on putting purple stripes in it now in place of the red.

Fallon suddenly felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle and stood up. Slowly she turned around, her eyes widening and her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of terror. Before she could scream Sid clamped a hand over her mouth.

“I just want to talk sweetheart.” He cooed, kicking the door shut with his foot. “Just talk. Now let’s just sit down…” He dropped onto the wooden bench, pulling her onto his lap. “Now Fallon, I’ve been doing some thinking sweetheart, and I want us to be a team again. No more Jericho. No more Undertaker. Just you and me, like old times eh?”

Fallon squirmed on his lap, shaking her head no frantically.

Sid tightened his grip, forcing her to hold still. “Sure sweetheart, I know things were a little rough before but that’s all in the past now. It’s a fresh started between us. We just need to do some thinking on how to get rid of that hubby of yours.”

Her eyes widened even more.


Mark paced the ring furiously. So far Sid had ignored his summons to the ring for their match. Finally after at least five minutes of waiting, Sid emerged,a  vicious smile on his face. Mark frowned, taking a fighting stance, wondering what had put Sid in such a great mood. He knew instinctively that it didn’t bode well for him.

Sid slid into the ring, still smiling infuriatingly.

The match began and this time Mark didn’t give his enemy the opportunity to knock him out the ring, instead opting to dig into his wrestling repertoire and go old school, knowing that Sid could match him for strength and intensity.

Just as he got then upper hand, Sid started laughing.

“What’s so damn funny?” Mark demanded, punching him in the jaw.

“I was just thinking,” Sid ducked the next blow. “That if you win and beat me senseless, how lonely poor Fallon with be tonight.”

That stopped Mark cold in his tracks. “What?”

“Oh yeah… forgot to mention it didn’t I?” Sid leered, stepping back with his hands raised innocently. “I decided to hide Fallon away for awhile, you know, until I can persuade her to see things my way.”

Mark felt his temper flaring but held it in check. “If you so much as harm on hair on her head…”

“You’ll what?” Sid challenged, getting into Mark’s face. “Kill me? Save it. We both know you won’t because you’re afraid you’ll never see your wife again.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m  not and don’t kid yourself.” Sid’s eyes darkened. “Now, I want you to step outside the ring and be counted out, then I want you to wait until I’m in the back before even thinking about making your way to find her. If you don’t… well, I can’t be held responsible for what may happen to Fallon.”

Hating Sid with all his being, Mark did as commanded, knowing for the first time what it was like being at someone’s complete mercy and loathing it.


Fallon was tied to a chair, a gag in her mouth somewhere deep in the arena. She could hear the ring announcer shout out Sid’s victory via count out and knew she didn’t have much time before he came back. She wiggled furiously, loosening her bonds until she was able to slip a hand through the coarse rope, wincing as she got a vicious burn.

Looking towards the door she hurried untied herself, getting to her feet and rubbing her wrists. She was just heading for the door when it was tossed open. There stood Sid, looking maniacal as ever.

“Oh good, you’re ready.” He said with a smirk, grabbing her by the waist and tossing her over his shoulder.

“Let me go!” Fallon screamed, pounding her fists on his massive back. “You fucking bastard!”

Sid slapped her ass hard. “Shut up sweetheart before I shut you up.”

Fallon bit her inner lip, crying softly.


“Mark! Where’d he take her?” Chris demanded, flying into Fallon’s locker room where Mark was standing.

“I don’t know!”

Chris froze, looking over his shoulder in time to see Sid disappear down a hall, Fallon with him. “There he went.”

Mark shoved Chris aside in his haste to get his wife. He took off down the hall Sid had went, picking up a crowbar from a table he passed.

Fallon spotted him coming and actually smiled, beginning to pound once again on Sid. “Put me down you bastard!” She ordered. “You’ve got some nerve coming into my life and pulling this shit!”

“Shut up.”

“What? Did you actually think it would be like old times again? You must be crazier than I thought! Like I’d ever want anything to do with you ever again. You’re nothing Sid! Nothing!”

Mark grinned in spite of himself, there was the sassy wife he knew and loved.

Sid halted, her words apparently striking home.

Taking advantage, Fallon pressed further. “You’re so low you have to resort to kidnap, what does that tell you Sid? I don’t want anything to do with you! You’re nothing bus a has been loser!”

Sid tossed her full force into a wall.

Mark winced, hoping she wasn’t injured to bad and made his move. Quickly he raised the crowbar and brought it down on Sid’s head.

Sid wasn’t fazed, he just turned around and stared angrily at his attacker.

Mark hit him again, this time getting Sid’s forehead.

Sid paid no mind to the trickle of blood that streamed down between his eyes and started approaching, a feral grin on his face.

Mildly alarmed, Mark took aim and began repeatedly bashing Sid over the head, watching with a sickened stomach as blood now gushed freely over Sid’s face. Sid finally stumbled, landing against a wall and slunk down to the floor, his chin on his chest, apparently knocked out finally.

Fallon opened one eye. “Can I stop pretending to be hurt now?”

Mark breathed a long sigh of relief, reaching down to help her up. “You all right?”

“Hell yeah, I just faked most of it so he’d leave me alone.” Fallon grinned broadly, directing a few well aimed kicks at Sid’s ribs. “Bastard was trying to run off with me, like I needed another man kidnapping my ass.”

That made him sift uncomfortably.

Fallon smirked. “You think I’d forget?”

“Hoped maybe.”

Fallon shrugged. “Anyways, let’s get the hell out of here before this asshole comes around.” She kicked him again for good measure.


“Oh my god, I’ve been so worried about you!” Shadow said the next day, wrapping her arms around Fallon tightly. “If it’s not one thing it’s another.”

Fallon stepped out of the embrace smiling. “No kidding.” She fluffed her hair, showing off the newly acquired purple streaks. “So what do you think?”

“I don’t know, the red suited you better.”

“I’m thinking blue next.”

Shadow snorted. “You’re a trip, you know that?”

“I’ve been told.”


Fallon turned to find a streak of blue, purple and green lunging at her and the next thing she knew she was being tackled to the concrete mall floor. “Jeffrey Nero Hardy!”

Jeff laid sprawled on top of her, resting his chin on the palm of his hand comfortably. “Hello Fallon, what’s up?”

“My temper.” She warned, trying not to smile.

“Oh really?” Jeff’s eyes widened innocently. “What’s got you ticked off today?”

“I don’t know. I guess it would be the fact that some dumb moron is laying on me.”

Laughing, Jeff got off her and helped her up. “Not happy to see me?”

“I’m thrilled.”

Jeff turned and hugged Shadow. “Long time, no see Shade.”

“Shadow. It’s Shadow, how many times do I have to tell you that?” Shadow shook her head exasperatedly. “All right, I’ll catch you guys later, I promised to meet Kane for lunch.”

Fallon and Jeff watched her walk off.

“So what’s up?”

Fallon shook her head. “Nothing, just doing some shopping.”

“Hey, so was I.” Jeff grinned impishly. “Mind if I join you?”


Fallon and Jeff spent the next hour wandering around buying everyday clothes and work clothes along with other things. Fallon had forgotten how much she enjoyed his company, he was funny and entertaining, not too mention overly hyper.

By the end of the day Fallon’s ribs were hurting from laughing so much.

“Let’s go grab a bite to eat.” Jeff suggested as they loaded all their bags into the trunk of her rental car.

“All right but uh… what about your ride?”

“Matt will come get it eventually.” Jeff shrugged, slipping into the passenger side.

Fallon shook her head and got in as well. “You are definitely off the wall, you know that?”

“I’ve been told a time or two.” He agreed cheerfully.


“Okay now, let’s see if I got this straight,” Jeff said an hour later, spearing a biscuit on the end of a fork and waving it around. “You and ol’ man Callaway are married, estranged but married. And then Sid is wanting you to be his… woman… again.”

Fallon took a sip of her coffee. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“And you were seeing Chris but that’s over…” Jeff shoved the biscuit in his mouth whole, chewed and swallowing before continuing. “So now where are you and Mark at?”

“You are so disgusting sometimes, you know that?” Fallon made a face, pushing her own half empty plate away. “We’re separated right now if you must know. We’re friends at the moment.”

“That’s messed up.” Jeff finally remarked, cramming more mashed potatoes into his mouth. “So ya’all are married but uh… separated, just being friends.”

Fallon idly picked at her cornbread. “Yeah well, it’s kind of hard to get divorced in the county we live in, believe me, I checked. I need a real reason and when I said it was forced, they just believed that it was a staged thing for the Fed, they thought we really got married but just pretended all that shit.”

“That is fucked up.”


“So what’re your plans for tomorrow?” Jeff asked as he walked Fallon up to her hotel room.

“Don’t know yet, I’m not doing the house show, that’s for sure.”

“Want to go do something?”

“Yeah, okay.” Fallon smiled at him, unlocking her door.

“Good. Be ready around nine then.”


When Fallon answered the door the next morning it wasn’t who she was expecting.

“You look nice.” Mark took in her faded blue jeans and purple belly shirt. “Going somewhere?”

“Um yeah…” Fallon ran a hand through her hair. “Actually, Jeff is supposed to be picking me up soon.”

Mark raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Yes, and listen; don’t start that husband shit either.”

He started looking a little ticked off.

“I know we’re married but it’s not a real marriage you know?” Fallon stared up at him. “It’s just until I can figure out a way to either get a divorce or an annulment.”

“Right. And how were you planning on doing that without my consent?”

Fallon looked a bit hurt. “You mean after everything we’ve just gone through you still would make me do this?”

“What made you think I’d ever let you go?”

“Whatever Mark.” Fallon slammed the door in his face.


“Oh god Jeff,” Fallon shrieked. “How did I let you talk me into this?”

Jeff grinned at her. “I don’t know, my southern charm I suppose.”

“Hardy, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, don’t pull that shit with me!” Fallon screamed as the roller coaster began it’s descent.

When they got off the coaster, Fallon was dizzy, clinging to Jeff for support. “That was awesome.”

“Yeah, and you scream like a baby.” He teased.

Fallon rolled her eyes. “How bout we go on the ferris wheel?”

“All right.”

There wasn’t a long line so they were on it quickly and soon stuck at the top as the carnie loaded some more people. Fallon peered over the edge and laughed, waving down to the people who were staring up at them.

“Hey Fallie, can I ask you something?” Jeff asked innocently.

“You know you can.” She turned to face him.

“Have you ever had sex in one of these?”


“That was interesting.” Jeff commented as they stepped off the ferris wheel. “We really need to go on that again.”

Fallon grinned over at him, finishing buttoning her jeans. “Maybe later. Now I’m hungry.”

“Me too. How bout a slice of pizza?”

Fallon led the way over, laughing as he playfully slapped her ass. “You are so bad, you know that?”

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’ve told me a million times over.” Jeff ordered and paid for their food before sitting down at a nearby table to wait. “So, what next?”

She sat down next to him. “Maybe some games. I’m getting ridden out.”

“I can believe it.” He winked at her.


It was to Edge and Christian’s great surprise when their opponents for the tag team title match were introduced.

Jeff and Fallon came running down the ramp, each clad in cargo pants and purple tank tops to match their hair.


It was also a surprise to many in the back, mostly Mark. He stared at the monitor, feeling his hurt and rage building up.

It was an even bigger surprise when Jeff and Fallon won the belts.


“Great, now I have two titles to defend.” Fallon joked as they walked backstage, the belts over their shoulders.

“Oh yes, I’m sure it’ll really kill you.” Jeff replied, rolling his eyes playfully. “You know, all you do is bitch bitch bitch.”

“I’ve been told that before.” Fallon smirked, waving to Kane as he disappeared into his locker room, grinning when he flashed her a thumbs up. “Did you hear the news?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Shadow and Kane are having a baby.”

“You’re kidding!” Jeff halted to gape at her.

Fallon shook her head. “Nope. Shadow told me about it last night. Awesome isn’t it?”

“Definitely, we’ll have to do something for them. Maybe throw a baby shower.”


“Hey, they’re my friends too ya know.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot.”

“Seems you do that a lot.”

Fallon slapped his upper arm. “You are such a jerk sometimes, you know that?”

“Yep.” Jeff rubbed his arm. “That hurt.”

“My, don’t you two look cozy.”

Jeff and Fallon turned to find Mark leaning against a wall staring at them coldly.

“What’s up?” Jeff asked cautiously, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Not much, just watching my wife be a whore, as usual.”

“Fuck you Mark!” Fallon spat. “You need to get over your jealously kick.”

“Better yet, why don’t you divorce her?” Jeff put in.

“Mind your own business boy.” Mark snarled. “This don’t concern you.”

“Fallon’s my friend Mark, when you’re harassing her, it concerns me.”

Fallon stamped her foot impatiently. “Listen hear Mark, I’m sick and tired of all this. Thanks for helping me with Sid. He’s gone now up into a state hospital so there’s no reason for us to be hanging out, pretending to be married. Let’s just end this charade.”

Mark took a threatening step towards the pair. “Hear me well Fallon because this will be the last time I say this: I am not giving you up. You’re mine. Mark my words, you’ll be back with me before long or else.”


“I hate him!” Fallon screamed later in the evening once she and Jeff had reached the house he shared with his brother Matt in Cameron. “I just wish he’d leave me alone!”

Matt walked into the kitchen. “What’s all the screaming about? Hey Fallie, long time no see.”

Fallon nodded irritably at him, finishing off her can of Mountain Dew and crushing it in her hadn.

Jeff looked at his brother helplessly. “Her husband is being a dick, like usual.”

“Mark? I thought you two were divorced.”

“Hell no, the fuck wad won’t grant me one and in our county it has to be a mutual thing.”

Matt nodded. “I see. Um… so…”

“Hope you don’t mind Mattie but I’m spending the weekend here.” Fallon said teasingly. “My old apartment was sold out from underneath me.”

“No problem, it’ll be just like old times right?”

“Yeah, only now I don’t have to sneak in through the second story window.”

Jeff snorted. “I doubt you could in those shorts.”

She looked down at her skintight daisy dukes. “Ah bite me.”

“Maybe later.” Jeff rifled in the refrigerator, looking for a snack. “So, what’re we doing tonight?”


“Good. I thought maybe we could grill out and just knock back a few cold ones.”

“That sounds heavenly.” Fallon sighed wistfully.

“Definitely.” Matt agreed. “Course that means you’ll need to go do some grocery shopping.”

“Wanna come Fallie?” Jeff asked, grabbing his truck keys off the counter.

“Yep, be back in a while Mattie.”


“So what are we grilling?” Fallon asked, staring at the meats.

“Um, steak or hamburgers?”


Jeff examined a couple of packages before tossing them into the cart where a case of pop already sat. “Now we need some tater salad, chips and uh… what else?”

“Charcoal, lighter fluid…” Fallon recited from the list Matt had given them. “And beer, lots of beer.”

“Funny, last I remembered you couldn’t handle your alcohol.”

“Heh. It’s been awhile since you drank with me Mr. Hardy.”


“That was awesome.” Matt sighed, rubbing his stomach contentedly. “Pass me a beer, will ya Jeff?”

Jeff reached over his lawn chair and into the cooler. He tossed a can of Bud to Matt and then one to Fallon. “This sure as hell beats work.”

“No kidding.” Fallon popped the tab on hers and took a long swallow. “I’m beginning to hate work.”

“Shut up. You’re holding one half of the tag team titles.” Matt chastised.

“Hey it’s not my fault they decided to break you boys up.”

“So where are you sleeping at?” Matt asked, changing the subject.

“Guest room obviously.”

“Not going to crawl in bed with me?” Jeff teased.

Fallon shot him a knowing look. “Boy, we’ve been doing that ever since we were teenagers, don’t you think you’re a little too old for that?”

Matt snorted. “If I remember rightly, you two were going at it every night since you turned twelve and thirteen, what’s the big deal now?”

Fallon blushed while Jeff grinned broadly.


“Okay, let me get this straight, you two want me to move in?” Fallon stared at Matt and Jeff incredulously. “Why?”

Matt smiled at her. “Why not Fal? You’ve been practically living with us ever since we met, why not just have you move in formally?”

“Besides, where are you going to go?” Added Jeff reasonably. “Back to Mark? You’d be safer here with us and besides: You know you liked being around me, I’m irresistible.”

Matt and Fallon both rolled their eyes.

“All right, I’ll do it.”


“I’m glad to hear you’re happy.” Chris said sincerely a week later when Fallon told him about moving in with the Hardys.

“Thanks blondie,” She hugged him affectionately. “So how’s life?”

“Good. I’m dating a bit, maybe even found someone with potential.”

“Oh really?”

Chris chuckled. “Of course she’s not you but…”

“Oh jeez, boost my ego and inflate my head some more.” She joked.

“I try.” He hugged her again. “Listen, I got to go get prepped for my live segment, I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Count on it.” Fallon watched him walk down the hallway before turning to go find Jeff. She bumped into a hard chest.

“Hello honey.”

“Mark…” She groaned, stepping back quickly. “What do you want?”

“Moving in with Jeff?” Mark grabbed her arm tightly. “You did happen to remember that you are married right?”

“How could I forget when you’re always reminding me?” She hissed, jerking away from him. “Just give me a damn divorce Mark, it’ll save us a lot of trouble.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow, staring down menacingly at her. “How do you figure? You’re a whore now, you’d be a whore then.”

Fallon tried reasoning. “Mark listen, the baby is gone. Dead. Murdered by your own sister. There is nothing for us now, it’s over. Anything we have had died along with our child.”

His stony countenence wavered for a moment when she mentioned the dearly wanted child. “It’s not over Fallon.” He said finally, the old conviction flaming in his green eyes once more. “It’s not over.”

Fallon looked over his shoulder as Kane slowly approached.

Mark spun around. “Well if it isn’t little brother.” He said mockingly. “Come to make sure your friend is safe?”

Kane stared at Mark with intense hatred. “Leave her alone.” He said softly, voice raspy as ever, muffled by his mask.

“Mind your own business Kane, this don’t concern you. This is between me and my wife.” Mark slung an arm around Fallon’s shoulders.

Fallon pushed him away, moving to stand by Kane. “I was just coming to see you,” She murmured. “Let’s go.”

“See you later Fallon.” Mark called after her as she walked away.

Fallon didn’t look back though Kane did.


After her visit with Shadow and Kane, Fallon felt slightly better when she showed up at her and Jeff’s locker room.

“Ready for our first defense?” Jeff asked from his spot on the floor where he was doing push ups.

“You bet, I’m just going to go get changed.” Fallon grinned at him before disappearing into the adjoining bathroom with her duffel bag.

When she emerged she wore black cargo pants and a purple mesh shirt over a blank tank top with heavy metallic purple make-up.

“Nice, very punk.” Jeff complimented after surveying her. “Why don’t you dress like that at home?”

“Because I like the daisy mae look better when I’m not working.”


Jeff and Fallon fought the Acolytes that night, taking a severe beating but somehow managing to hold onto their belts, barely. Fallon suffered worst because Bradshaw wasn’t particulary fond of her, an old grudge from the Ministry days.

The two were standing in the ring, trying to catch their breath and enjoy the victory when the lights went out.

“What’s going on?” Fallon demanded, reaching for Jeff in the darkness, watching as a couple of fans held up lighters.

Jeff grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. “I don’t know Fallie. Just be ready for an attack.”

When the lights came back on, standing on the stage was none other than Sorcha, wearing her usual garb of black. She held a microphone and was smiling wickedly.

“Fallon dearest…” She began in a beguilingly sweet voice. “You will never guess what’s happened tonight.”

Fallon wasn’t sure she wanted to know as she stepped out from behind Jeff to stand at his side.

Sorcha’s smile grew wider. “I thought you ought to know that the Ministry of Darkness has begun to reform.” The lights went back out briefly only to flicker on showing the stage to be empty.

Jeff looked down at the wide mouthed Fallon worriedly.


“Okay, we got to leave now, right now!” Fallon shouted, tossing clothes into her duffel bag. “We got to get to the hotel, grab back and head home.”

Jeff watched her, concerned with the crazed look in her eyes. He began to pack alongside her, just as anxious to leave the arena. “Calm down Fal.” He advised softly. “We’ve got to be en garde.”

“I know that!” Fallon shouted, glaring up at him. She seen the miffed expression on his face and instantly calmed. “I’m sorry Jeff, I just don’t want to be stuck in his world again.” She hung her head, her purple bangs hiding her face. “I’m afraid of what he’ll do to me.”

“Hey,” Jeff brushed the hair out of her eyes. “Look at me.”

Reluctantly she did.

“I’m not going to let him hurt you anymore, okay?”

Fallon nodded mutely, her eyes growing wide as she watched something over his shoulder.

Jeff spun around and his world went black.


Fallon knew where she was the moment she woke up. She was laying on her old bed in her old room at Mark’s house. She went to sit up only to find a pair of familiar silver chains biding her wrists to the posts on either side of her head.

Groaning she let her head drop down to the pillows, staring up at the black canopy above her. She studied the intricate designs embroidered on it, trying to focus on anything but her current situation.

Fallon cringed when she heard the doorknob twist then click softly as the door was open.

“Happy to be home dearest?”

Fallon felt her heart freeze in her chest, knowing it was Mark and yet… it was the dark baritone of the Undertaker she heard. When he stepped into a patch of silvery moonlight, she saw her worst fear confirmed.

“Surprised?” He asked, leering wickedly down at her.

“Not really, I knew you couldn’t keep up that all American bullshit for too long.” Fallon replied dryly, licking her lips nervously.

“Of course.” ‘Taker sat on the edge of the bed, placing a hand firmly on her upper thigh. “Now Fallon, onto business.”

“Business?” Fallon squirmed, trying to get away from him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’ve decided that you will remain home, under Sorcha and Paul’s supervision as a happy and devoted house wife.” His eyes glinted manaically. “Youn will relinquish both your titles on a live segment done here at the house, and in nine months time if you haven’t borne me a child, I’ll beat you to death.”

Fallon started screaming.


“Oh my god, my head is killing me.” Jeff moaned, cracking his eyes open.

Matt was leaning over him. “Jeff, how do you feel?”

“Like I was run over.” Jeff groaned in pain. “Fallon, where’s Fallon?”

Matt shrugged, looking over at someone else who was apparently in the room. “We only found you and that was in the parking lot for your information.”

“We’re guessing the Undertaker has her.” Amy spoke up, coming into his line of vision.

Jeff sat up, realizing he was in the hospital and surrounded by Fallon’s very concerned friends. “Um…”

Kane, Shadow and Chris all exchanged looks.

“We’re going to help you get her back.” Chris explained.

“Whoa, hold up.” Amy held up a hand. “What makes you think he’s going to try to get her back, look at him!”

Matt stared at his girlfriend exasperatedly. “Ames, we’ve known Fallon since we were toddlers. She’s our friend and we have to try to find out what happened to her.”

“Well…” Kane finally spoke up. “I think I might know where she is.”

Chris eyed Kane curiously. “You think he might’ve taken her back there?”

Kane nodded.

Chris whistled. “Oh boy, I’ve seen that place, how the hell are we going to get in there?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Jeff demanded.

“Have you ever been to Mark’s house?” Chris asked, looking over at him.


“Oh boy…”


When Jeff finally made it to the arena the following Thursday night he was greeted to Matt, Amy, Kane, Shadow and Chris waiting for him in a large room gathered around a television.

“What’s going on?”

“Fallon is going to be on in a few minutes.” Matt said softly.

Jeff edged his way closer to the monitor, waiting impatiently.


After the commercial break, it was time for Fallon to appear. Instead of walking out to the ring, she came on the Titan Tron, crying.

Jeff stared at the screen taking in her pale, fatigued look, long black dress and then discovered upon closer inspection that she was chained to a chair.

Fallon was shaking her head. “I won’t do it.” She said to someone off-screen. She blanched at the low reply and started sobbing louder. “Please… don’t make me do this.” She begged.

Jeff wasn’t the only one who gasped aloud when the Undertaker appeared and smacked her across the face.

“Fallon has vacated her titles ladies and gentlemen,” He said gravely, looking into the camera. “So Hardy, looks like you’ll need to find a new partner.”

The camera faded, leaving only the cries of Fallon to be heard. “Jeff…”


“You’re pathetic.” The Undertaker sneered, staring down at his wife contemptuously. “Do you know how much power you would have if you would just stop fighting me?”

“I don’t care about any of that! You do!” Fallon screamed, straining at the chains that held her firmly in place.

He slapped her again, harder this time, causing her head to snap to the side. A thin trickle of blood trailed down the side of her mouthn as she glared up at him, her eyes turning pure black with hatred as they narrowed.


Fallon stared morosely out the window, watching as the rain beat down on the lawn. She could hear Sorcha in the other room talking to Paul Bearer. She didn’t care about what they were saying. All she could think about was escaping. So far she had been back for two weeks and she had made ten attempts at running for it. Each time she had been caught before she even reached the gate, dragged back and upon the Undertaker’s nightly return; beaten until she couldn’t stand.

Tonight was no exception, she had yet another idea, and even though it would probably amount to nothing like always, she was going to try it.

It was better than just sitting around being the passive prisoner.

Sorcha walked into the room and laughed. “I sincerely hope you’re not planning on yet another bid for freedom, it’s getting rather boring you know.”

Fallon turned to stare icily at her sisiter-in-law. “What’s boring is how you like to lick your brother’s boots night after night. Tell me Sorcha, do you like being a dog?”

Sorcha’s face contorted with fury. “One day Fallon, one day.” She turned on her heel and stalked out, slamming the door behind her.


Fallon was visciously woken up by the Undertaker around three in the morning. She sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up to her chin as he jerked the blankets away. She screamed as he next grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her to him, shoving her down on the mattress, a massive hand wrapping around her throat.

“Trying to escape again,” He snarled, ripping away the sheet. “Will you ever learn?”

Fallon screamed again when he began ripping away her nightgown only to have him cut off her oxygen.


“What the hell is that?” Jeff asked, staring out the windshield of the blazer he, Matt, Chris and Kane were driving.

“Don’t know.” Matt replied, flashing the brights, getting enough of a glimpse to know it was a person running haphazardly towards them.

Jeff peered closer, wishing it would stop raining so he could see better. “Stop…”

Matt slowly came to a halt, looking back at Kane and Chris.

Kane was staring at the approaching person. “Could be anyone.” He cautioned.

Jeff tossed open the door and lept out. “Fallon!” He shouted, running toward her.

“Jeff?” Came Fallon’s weak voice over thre roar of the wind. “Jeff!” Fallon collapsed in the center of the road, the blanket she had covered hself with slipping off, leaving nothing but bare skin to be pounded by hail.

Jeff quickly took off his coat, bending down to wrap it around her. “You’re safe now.” He soothed, carefully picking her up. “I’ve got you.”

Fallon rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes wearily.

Chris had gotten out as well and only sat back down when he saw Jeff bringing her to them. He helped Jeff get her in the backseat, laying her across his and Kane’s lap.

Jeff got back into the blazer and Matt turned around, glancing back at his friend. “Is she all right?”

“She’s sleeping.” Kane whispered, staring down at her.

Chris was silent, just stroking her wet hair.

Jeff seen what Chris was looking at and turned away, clenching his fists tightly.

“He did that?” Matt whispered, turning back to look at the road, his knuckles going white as he gripped the steering wheel tightly.

Chris gently touched the bruise on her collarbone. “From the looks of it, he’s done a lot more than that.”


It was several weeks before Fallon was able to talk about what happened, mainly due to the fact that she drifted in and out of consciousness a lot. When she was almost recovered and fully awake, she recounted her time with the Undertaker, giving them a brief rundown of the more unpleasant details, letting them draw their own conclusions.

Matt had taken over her place as Jeff’s tag team partner and gallantly relinquished the belt back to her. She didn’t stress over the women’s championship, more concerned about getting her career and life back on track, one belt was enough.

Jeff made sure after every house show they flew back to Raliegh and headed straight to Cameron. He had put the town on alert for the Undertaker and his crew, setting up security measures just in case.

After several months of successfully defending their titles, Fallon once more disappeared, letting Matt take her place as cog-tag team champion. When she finally came back, it had been three months since her last appearance.


“Looking good cute mama.” Chris greeted, eyeing Fallon with a broad grin.

Fallon smiled sweetly back. “I know. This look suits me doesn’t it?” She turned to the side and posed, placing one hand on her back.

He surveyed the skin tight black shirt she wore over black pants and flat black shoes. “Yeah, it does. I see you’re letting your hair grow again.”

“I decided I didn’t like it short anymore.”

Jeff walked up behind her. “Hey Chris.”

“Congrats Hardy.” Chris winked. “Glad to see you’ve been keeping busy.”


The Undertaker had clue where Fallon was. He had been trying with little payoff to locate and get her back. He hadn’t given up his efforts, just started putting more time and money into finding out where she was exactly.

He had been to Cameron only to be told time and time again that those wild kids had packed up and left.

He was standing in the ring by himself, preparing to make a speech when the Hardy Boys theme blared over the speakers. He frowned, looking towards the stage angrily, wondering what the hell they wanted. His eyes widened ever so slightly when Fallon walked out escorted by Matt and Jeff.

After taking in her new form, ‘Taker grinned broadly, raising the microphone to his mouth. “Well Fallon, it appears that I won’t have to tend to you after all.” He knew she understood what he meant and continued. “Come to return to me?”

Fallon smiled back mockingly, raising her own mic and saying: “No. I’ve come to let you know I went ahead and filed for divorce through a higher court. They were even kind enough to speed it up when I showed some evidence as to why I wanted it.”

“I don’t believe you.” He snarled, his eyes flashing. “I would have been notified.”

Fallon held up a piece of paper, letting the camera zoom in on it. “Believe it ‘Taker. And as for my baby,” She rubbed her distended belly, obviously in the final term of pregnancy. “If you could do the math, you’d realize that I’m awfully far along…”

He was doing the math, growing livid with each word she said.

Jeff wrapped an arm around Fallon’s shoulder and mouthed: “My baby.”

In his rage, the Undertaker tossed aside his mic and slipped through the ropes.

“Time to leave.” Matt grabbed Fallon’s wrist and ran for it. “Jeff, c’mon!”

Jeff was quick to follow.

Fallon was having a difficult time keeping up with her enormous bulk so Jeff scooped her into his arms while running. Matt ran on ahead to get the car started.

Once they were safe on the road, they all started laughing, letting out their tension.


Now that she had finalized her divorce in all ways, Fallon returned to being a hermit; giving birth to a healthy baby boy in a few weeks who she named Gavin  Jeffrey.

Jeff was elated, taking time off of work to stay home and help out, keeping her in bed for the full six weeks and taking care of Gavin. Matt was home a lot too, adoring his nephew to the point of annoyance.

Fallon had specifically requested that her ‘baby factory’ be taken out, not wanting to risk the Undertaker trying to impregnate her anymore. Jeff understood and agreed, not sure if he was really up for anymore kids anyway.

They decided that if they were still together in the future and wanted more, they could always adopt.

When Fallon made her return to work, it was in the managerial capaticity, opting to manage the Hardy’s, giving up her tag title, this time for good. She’d risk a battle now and then but preferred to stay out of the fighting, not wanting to be sore and bruised around Gavin.

At first they had some serious problems with the Undertaker and his Ministry. Fallon ended up taking things in her own hands which resulted in the entire Ministry needing to be hospitalized for a couple weeks and a hefty fine slapped on her by the Federation.

It seemed to work though, since release they had left her alone. Fallon counted her blessing and let things go, preferring to focus on her new life with Jeff and Gavin.

So far, things were looking up.