Title: A Lesson in Life
Author: Jinni
Pairing: W/Matt
Rated: PG13
Disclaimer: All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss and/or whomever is claiming responsibility for them. The WWE characters belong to the WWE and Vince McMahon. The wrestlers may or may not belong to themselves.
Distribution: Wrestling Fate. All others please ask first.
Summary: Love is strong enough to get through anything.
Author's Notes: Just a little bit o' fluff.

~*~*~

She watched him walk through the halls, averting her eyes so he wouldn't see the pain. The pain she felt every time she looked at him. That dark hair. Those warm brown eyes. It was impossible for her not to feel *something*. At those times she could almost still taste the feel of his lips on her own; feel the press of his body against hers.

But those were just memories.

Three weeks had passed since the night he had told her he just couldn't do it anymore. It was him and not her, wasn't that the way things always went? Like some bad line from a movie he had told her he needed some time. Some space. And she had let him go. It wasn't like she could deny him his freedom if its what he really wanted, anyway. She had never been able to deny him anything. And so, when he made his decision, she had heard out his reasoning. That he was afraid things were happening too quick and he wanted some time to just *think* things through.

Too quick?

Sure. They had been together for only a month at that point, but things had been moving quickly. She was pretty sure she was head over heels in love with him at the point he had called it quits. And, the funny things was, she had thought he felt the same way. Wasn't it him who had been bringing her roses and buying her little trinkets. Isn't he the one who stuffed a carnival-sized teddy bear into her locker one night before a show? How had they gone from perfection to 'moving too quick'? Was he just that afraid of commitment?

None of that mattered now. Whether or not he was afraid of commitment or maybe it *had* been something she did and now he just no longer wanted to be around her. They certainly weren't friends. They didn't even speak unless it was necessary. For her, at least, it was just too painful. Too hard to look into his face and remember when his eyes looked at her with what she had been sure was nothing short of love.

"Willow?"

The red head turned, tearing her eyes away from Matt Hardy's backside. She gave her tag team partner for the night a small smile. "Hey Trish."

The blonde Diva looked in the direction the Willow had been looking only a moment before and frowned. She could kill Matt for what he had done to Willow. Sure, it might take her and a few other of the Divas to get the job done right, but she'd have no trouble convincing the ladies in the back that it needed to be done. They had all seen the way Willow had spiraled downwards after the breakup. Not even Lita knew what had gotten into Matt. She had thought for sure that the two of them were on a fast track to a proposal and Lita had been happy for them. She had been looking forward to being a bridesmaid, even.

And then Matt had screwed everything up by breaking up with what everyone thought was the one good thing to ever happen to him.

"Forget about him, Red." Trish sighed, wrapping an arm around the shorter woman's shoulders and squeezing comfortingly. "He ain't worth it anymore."

Willow nodded. It was the same advice that Trish gave her each and every night. The blonde haired woman had become one of her closest friends and confidants after the breakup. Much in the same way Buffy would have been if Buffy had still been alive. "He wasn't ever worth it apparently."

Turning on her heel, Willow walked back to her locker room. She knew Trish was following her. They had a match to get ready for. Trish and herself versus Jazz and Jackie. It was guaranteed to be a knock-down, drag-out brawl. They were the only two women on the Divas roster that stood a chance against the current women's tag team champions. So tonight they would fight. Fists and feet. DDTs and headlocks. Maybe even a hurricanrana. She was fine with that.

She needed to release some tension, anyway.

~*~*~

Matt focused on a spot on the wall straight ahead of him, trying to ignore the red head that was standing against one side of the hallway. He still knew when she looked away, saw the grimace of displeasure cross her face. It was the same thing that happened every time he walked by her.

And it hurt.

He hadn't meant for them to stop being friends when everything had happened. That was so far from what he had wanted. In fact -

No, it was too late now.

Too late to make things right.

He never should have listened to Christian that night.

~*~Flash~*~

"Leaving already?"

Matt looked up at Christian, his hand stilled in mid-grab for his jacket. "Yeah. Willow's waiting back in her hotel room for me."

"Man," The blonde haired Canadian snorted. "She has you *so* whipped already. What's next, Matt? Wedding bells? You pushing the baby carriage? Were you really thinking you were giving up all your freedom when you started dating this girl?"

"It's not like that - "

"Isn't it?" Christian questioned, taking another sip of his beer. "The two of you have only been together for a month and already you run off to see her each and every night. Don't you know how to have fun with the boys anymore? Or does she have you -that- wrapped around her finger? Don't you think things are happening too fast?"

Too fast.

~*~End Flash~*~

The words had hit Matt like a slap in the face that night. He didn't even have alcohol as an excuse for what he did next. No, he had been quite sober when he broke his little red head's heart. He had, at Christian's ever increasing insistence, gone to Willow's hotel room and proceeded to tell her that he needed space. That he needed some time away from them, away from her.

And he had gotten it tenfold.

Only days later, when the reality of what he had done had hit him, did he realize just how badly he had messed things up. Christian hadn't been right. They hadn't been moving too fast. Not at all. They had been going at a speed that was very much in line with what they felt for each other.

Love.

He loved her.

With all of his heart.

But did he go running back to her and tell her how he felt?

No.

Did he call her up and even try to make amends?

No, again.

And did he even try to get back in her good graces, starting slowly with friendship?

Uh uh.

Lita was pissed. Jeff felt the same way. And he didn't blame them. They asked why he had done what he did. And he told them it wasn't their business. In no way was he ever going to admit that he had listened to that idiot Christian and done something this wrong. He kept his feelings to himself on the matter and let them think that he was fine without her.

But he wasn't.

"Let's get this over with."

The sound of his brother's voice drew him out of his thoughts and he noticed that they had made it all the way to the entrance of the ramp. Funny how time flew by when one was busy being depressed. The tone Jeff was using was openly hostile. He couldn't blame him. Their own familial relationship was under strain because of his secretiveness, because of the attitude he was having to affect to hide his own pain. When the hurt faded he'd be able to make things right with Jeff. And maybe one day Lita would forgive him, too.

But first he had to stop hurting. And he didn't know if that was possible.

~*~*~

She didn't watch the first match of the night, knowing that she would just see Matt and Jeff beating the hell out of the Dudleys. The fans were unaware of the bad blood between the two Hardys at the moment, but she wasn't. Jeff had been there to hold her hand while she cried, though he couldn't give her any explanation of his brother's actions. She felt bad that she was the cause of the heartache going on between them. Not just once had she tried to make Jeff see reason. Matt was his brother. There was no reason for him to pick her over the dark haired man.

But Jeff was stubborn and chose her anyway. At least she was cute and cuddly, he maintained. His brother was just a jerk.

"We're up next."

"I know." Willow sighed. She stood, jogging in place for a moment to get the blood running through her body. She stretched out, allowing her mind to go blank in preparation for the match. Thinking about Matt while fighting would do nothing but get her hurt. Or get Trish hurt. And she didn't want that.

"Ready?" She asked, turning back to the blonde.

Trish nodded and followed the red head out of the room, praying that this wouldn't be the night that Willow finally lost the tenuous grip she had on life and let herself fall headfirst into full blown depression.

~*~*~

"Ouch! Did you see that, King?"

"I sure did, JR. Those puppies are gonna be hurtin' in the morning. Think she'll let me kiss and make better?"

Matt watched the match out of the corner of his eye, wincing as Willow was again struck across the chest. It was the fourth such blow she had taken within the last thirty seconds. Even from his vantage of feigned indifference he could see that she was gasping for breath, trying hard not to fall down. How much more of this could she take?

He was glad that Jeff had refused to turn off the television in their locker room when the match had came on. He didn't really want it off, after all. He just wanted to make things look good. No, he didn't care about Willow. Yeah, right.

"She'd getting her ass kicked. Does it make you happy." Jeff growled, not even turning to look at his older brother. "Does it do your cold heart good to see her get beat down? Or -- Wait. What the fu --?"

Matt looked up at Jeff's exclamation, his eyes going first to the door Jeff had just run out of and then to the monitor. Why in the Hell were Farooq and Bradshaw out there. Jackie and Jazz were nothing but cheaters. Hiring the APA to make sure they didn't loose the match. And Farooq had his hands on Willow.

He stood up without thinking, following the same route Jeff had taken only a moment before. He could hear the crowd going wild and knew that Jeff had reached the ramp. Only a few more yards and he'd be there himself.

The sound of cheering hit him like a slap in the face. He could see the ring, still so far away, getting closer with each pounding step he took as he ran down the metal ramp. Willow went crashing to the mat in a bodyslam. She didn't move and he couldn't see if her eyes were still open, if she was breathing right. Jeff was still tangling with Bradshaw, leaving Trish to deal with both Jazz and Jackie.

Another set of cheers echoed through the arena and he knew without looking who had joined them. Lita. She was still Willow's friend even if she wasn't his own anymore. She'd help Trish take care of the women.

That just left Farooq.

"You son of a bitch!" Matt screamed, sliding into the ring. He hit Farooq from behind before the other man could even register his presence. Elbows to the back of the head sent the dark-skinned man falling face-first to the mat. He was out cold.

Matt fell to his knees next to Willow, hearing the referee tell him not to move her, to wait for the EMTs to get to the ringside. He nodded, biting back his tears. "I do love you, baby. I do. I'm so sorry. Please be okay."

She stirred slowly, opening her eyes. "Matt?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Matt." She said again, as if confirming his presence. She shut her eyes. The lights were too bright. The crowd was too loud. Her head hurt like a stampede of wild elephants had just run through it.

"I love you, Willow. Please forgive me."

"Of course I do, silly." She murmured, smiling sadly. "Just don't do it again or I'll let Trish kick your ass for me."

The EMTs were there now, getting her on a stretcher. She didn't want to let go of his hand, though, afraid that releasing him might also release this reunion they were having.

"You're gonna have to let go long enough for them to get you in the ambulance, darlin'." Matt grinned.

"Don't want you to leave again." She whispered, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. The sound of the crowd faded away to nothing as they entered the backstage area. Soon she'd be at the hospital. Would they give her some painkillers to take away this awful headache?

"I'll never leave you again." Matt assured her, his hand squeezing hers gently.

"Promise?" She asked, cracking open an eye to look into his face.

"I promise."

And he meant it. He had learned his lesson. No more listening to childish blonde Canadians on matters of the heart.

No more.

~*~The End~*~

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