AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter features a small cameo from a now-deceased wrestler who was still alive when the fic was originally written. (Love you, Balls. Always.) I'm just giving you readers a head's up, because when I proofread it, seeing him actually threw me off for a minute and I realize it might be upsetting to others.

ELEVEN

I tried to tell myself this was just another day. I'd been to my fair share of funerals recently. We were at war. It happened more than anyone liked to admit. The problem was, this wasn't just another day and it wasn't just any funeral. I was about to bury the woman I loved, and part of me wanted to just give up and be buried with her.

You have to be strong for Abigail, I reminded myself. She needs you. You are her guardian.

I wasn't sure how long I'd be her guardian, but as long as I was, I had to function.

I didn't eat breakfast. I allowed myself to drink a Vegas Fuel, because I am the spokesperson for the company and I'm addicted to the stuff. It didn't fix my mood, but it gave me a little bit of adrenaline so I could attempt to get through the day.

James had woken up before me. He had proceeded to get up and quietly iron my black button-down shirt and dress pants. They were beyond perfectly ironed and I knew James was freaking out. He threw himself into things like that when he wasn't okay.

"Thanks, Buddy," I said gently. "Are you okay?"

"I..." He hesitated. He knew it was pointless to lie to me. "I feel responsible, Michael."

"For what?" I was genuinely confused.

"For this. All of you risked your lives to save me... And you lost her. You lost the first woman I've ever seen you get serious with. I... I'm so sorry, Michael!" James started to cry.

I immediately grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. "Stop that right now," I said firmly. "You are not responsible for this." This was the second time I'd had to tell someone that in the last twenty-four hours. James looked broken, and that broke me. "We all made that choice knowing what could happen. You didn't ask to get kidnapped and tortured, James. You didn't even ask to be rescued."

"It should have been me. Not her, Michael. She had a daughter! She had you. Her life was worth something!" He was crying harder now and he fell to his knees. I knelt beside him. I tried to touch his shoulder, but he recoiled like I'd slapped him.

"James..." I hated seeing him like this. He didn't deserve to hurt this much.

"Emily's life meant something..." He stared at the floor.

"So does yours, James. You were worth saving, too."

"She had a family! She was a mother! What am I? I'm nothing! I'm just poor, pathetic Spud, the one who needs saving, the butt of every joke, the guy who doesn't matter because in the scheme of things, I'm not that important to anyone." He was rambling. Some of it was what they'd said to him while he'd been kidnapped, and some was how he actually felt about himself at times, but he wouldn't stop going on and on about how his life didn't matter and I suddenly couldn't take it anymore.

"Shut up!" I told him shaply. He stared at me in stunned silence. "That's my best friend you're talking about."

"How can I still be your best friend?" He asked me. "How can you look at me and not see the reason Emily's gone? Why don't you hate me?"

"Because you're not the reason, James," I told him. "They are. The bad guys, the monsters who kidnap good people and who kill them for kicks. Not you. And you're not nothing. You aren't 'poor, pathetic Spud.' You are Rockstar Spud, and you are the best person I know."

"I'm a loser, Michael. I don't matter to anyone in any way that means anything. My own family turned their backs on me."

"They're blind assholes. They don't matter, James, but you? You matter more than anyone."

"I do not-"

"You have a family, James. You have me. You have Dixie. You have everyone at TNA, all of Team Good."

"But why?" He really didn't get it. "I'm weak. I'm no one."

"Because you're our heart, James. That's why they took you. They knew breaking you would break the rest of us. All of us dropped everything to save you without a second thought because you are the heart of our fucked up little family. Every single one of us loves you and none of us regret our choice to save you. Neither did Emily." My voice cracked on her name, but I kept going. "If we had it to do over, even knowing what would happen, we would do it again."

He cried harder, but I knew he was going to be okay now. The bad guys had broken him, but he was stronger than anyone knew. He would come back from this.

We got ready once he was calmer. When we joined the others, I spotted Dixie fixing Abigail's hair. She'd somehow tamed the mess of curls into a braid. I was impressed.

Dixie took Abigail's hand and led her toward me. Abigail wore a simple black dress and Mary Janes. I was grateful Dixie had taken care of getting her ready because I wasn't even sure where to begin.

"You look beautiful, Abby," I told her.

"Thanks. I guess you're presentable," she replied to me. I looked at her to see if she was joking and she cracked a very slight smile. I pulled her into a hug.

"Are you ready?" Jeff asked. It always startled me to see Jeff cleaned up in normal people clothing.

"No," I said. "But let's go."

We had decided to keep Emily's funeral low-key. She was being buried on the Hardy Compound to ensure no one tried to mess with her body... Her body... God, that's still so hard to say, even now. Anyway, we knew she'd be safe there. We exclusively invited Team Good, refusing to allow the bastards who had killed her anywhere near her now.

"I... I should have called people," I said suddenly. "She was big on the indies. I don't know half of her friends..."

"Relax," Jeff said gently. "I called the Bucks and asked them to take care of that. The people who should be here will be."

"Thank you..."

Sure enough, a bunch of cars were already there when we arrived at the burial spot. I immediately spotted the Young Bucks huddled together and looking severely broken. They were with some other indy guys, but as much as they tried to joke around and make small talk, their eyes were devastated.

Abigail ran from my arms straight into theirs. Nick hugged her and Matt (as in Massie/Jackson/Buck) picked her up and refused to put her down. She sobbed in his arms while he held her and Nick stroked her hair and back. Both of them had tears in their eyes. Matt (Hardy) was with them, and so was Reby. Jeff and I walked over to them.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," a voice said. I turned and recognized my friend Scotty Colton. He hugged me. "I got to know her a little before she got to TNA. This just isn't right..." For the first time ever, Scotty had no humor in his voice. Colt Cabana as you probably know him is never overly serious, but this loss had clearly hit him hard enough to suck the comedy right out of him.

Tommy Dreamer came and patted me on the shoulder. He didn't tell me he was sorry for my loss. I appreciated that. Besides, I already knew.

By the time the service started, there were a lot of people there. All of the Team Good people from TNA had shown up. It was good to have the support of my TNA family, and I knew everyone had loved Emily. The Young Bucks had rounded up a decent amount of indy wrestlers on very short notice. Paul London, one of the strangest guys in the world and a WWE survivor, was there. Maria and Mike Bennet, Matt Taven, and Adam Cole were standing near him. Candice LeRae sobbed hysterically in her boyfriend Johnny Gargano's arms. I could see even Johnny was crying. Joey Ryan was near them, but gave the real-life couple their distance to allow them to comfort each other. Hania the Huntress stood with Athena. I knew Emily had wrestled both of them before. Ron Zombie and Bull Dredd were nearby. I knew Emily had done a lot of work with Northeast Wrestling, where they both worked frequently. To my surprise, Brian Anthony was also there, keeping a respectful distance from everyone else. The last I'd heard, he was a Team Baddie guy, but maybe that had changed. I reached out to his thoughts.

Em... Jesus, Em... He kept repeating in his head. The kid looked like he was going to cry any second. I saw Jamie looking at him.

How is he allowed to be here? I asked her telepathically. Jamie did a lot of work with Northeast Wrestling and Brian had nearly attacked her during an unscripted part of a show where he went after her male tag partner.

Emily trained him, Jamie sent back. They were extremely close and when he heard Zombie and Dredd talking about this, he broke down in hysterics. Ron asked me if it was okay if he brought him.

I thought Zombie hated him? I asked.

He does. Brian was that broken up. Besides, he said a while back that Taryn trapped him on Team Baddie and he didn't actually want to be there. Maybe he'll switch sides now.

I felt kind of bad for him. He was there by himself, in enemy territory, just because he wanted to pay his respects and needed to say goodbye. I decided Emily would have wanted him there. Abigail's reaction at the sight of him confirmed this, as she gave him a very quick hug before returning to my side.

I kept looking at the people there, unable to bring myself to look at the casket. Lance Anoa'i and his uncle Afa Jr. were both present. Lance look inconsolable. Afa looked pissed the fuck off, but he typically does. I saw a couple of guys I didn't recognize with them.

"PPW guys," Tommy informed me when he saw me looking at them. "Pennsylvania Premier Wrestling, this promotion in Bumfuck, Pennsylvania... I mean Hazleton. I forget their names... They go by South Philly's Finest or some shit... I tagged with them once."

"Nice guys?" I asked.

"Mostly, yeah. I didn't think the white guy was psychic, though. Maybe his partner just told him about Emily and brought him along. He's a lycanthrope of some sort."

I nodded. Balls Mahony was nearby balling his eyes out. He was with a couple of the PWS guys. I knew a few of them because I knew Pat Buck very well, and he owned the promotion. Several of the TNA guys had worked at PWS at one time or another. Missy Sampson was with them and she was chain smoking. Her thoughts were frantic and her eyes were bloodshot. I could tell Missy didn't like funerals, but I knew she'd done a bunch of shows with Emily and the two had even had a rivalry at one point. Emily had adored her.

I couldn't name half of the people who'd come out, but that didn't seem to matter. They'd all loved Emily, and they'd all come to say goodbye.

As the service started, I held Abigail's hand. I noticed Shane and Sellie far away and mostly out of sight. They'd come to pay their respects, but thankfully, they were keeping their distance. I tried to ignore them. As the service progressed, I ignored that, too. I couldn't listen to what was being said. It was too hard. It was too real and none of it meant anything at all. Abigail stood perfectly still, but I could feel how tense she was. I tried to send soothing thoughts her way, hoping she'd hear them.

As everyone began thinking too loudly, my blocks began to fall. I nearly collapsed right there, but as usual, Mark figured out I had an issue and rushed to my side, throwing his shield up around me so fast it was like I'd gone deaf. I was relieved. I needed a break from all of that.

When it was finally time to say goodbye, everyone walked up to the casket. I suddenly couldn't move. I took a deep breath, but it felt like I wasn't getting any air. I faked it anyway and led Abigail up to the casket.

"She's not in there," she told me. She calmly placed a flower on the casket. "This is just for show. Dead people move on. Living people have funerals for themselves."

"You are not seven years old," I told her. "Show me your real ID and admit that you're a midget."

"That's not politically correct."

"Really? Fine, vertically challenged."

I think she was considering kicking me, but she resisted the urge. "Say goodbye, Michael," she said. "It's time." She took a sobbing Jeff's hand and walked away.

I walked up to the casket. The kid was right, but this was still hard as hell. I put the flower on the casket and let my hand linger for a moment. That was when it all hit me like a truck. This was real. Emily was gone. She was never going to come back.

I collapsed against the casket, sinking to my knees as my legs gave out beneath me. I started sobbing. Dixie and James were the first to my side. Each of them tried to help me stand, but I couldn't move.

"I can't..." I whispered.

"You have to get up, Darlin,'" Dixie said gently. She didn't snap at me for my word choice this time.

"I can't do it... I can't do this..." My chest hurt.

"You can do this, Mate," James said firmly.

He was right. In theory, I could do it. I could stand up and walk away. "I don't want to..." I admitted tearfully.

"I know, Mate... But you have to. And we're going to help you do it."

I nodded, knowing he was right. I let James and Dixie help me back onto my feet and we walked away from the casket. I refused to look back, knowing if I did, I'd never have the strength to leave.

After that, Abigail slipped her hand into mine, and I found my strength. I stopped crying and pulled myself together. We left the burial area and went back to Matt's house for whatever it is people do after funerals. I stayed on autopilot for the rest of the night, numbly thanking people for their sympathy and kind words, but at least I was functional. I'd need to be for whatever came next.