Wrestling How the Carter Stole Christmas

Ethan Carter the Third is bored. Not that it's a regular feeling for him, but it's early morning on Christmas Eve, the sky only lightening a couple of hours earlier, and the usual people he would bother all seem to have something to prepare for the hours ahead when they will be distracted with things other than his needs- family, friends, whatever. Even his precious Aunt D is unavailable, doing something or other for his younger nephews. Tyrus is the only one whose calendar is as free as Ethan's, the two of them staring blankly at the dumb movie droning on on the big screen TV across from them.

"We could go to the gym," Tyrus suggests.

"No."

"Go to a store and mock last minute shoppers?"

It's promising but Ethan doesn't feel like getting kicked out of some lame mall on Christmas Eve and having pictures all over the internet, his aunt yelling at him for such things. "No," he drawls.

"The movies?"

"Hell no," he snaps. "Tyrus, just stop unless you have _good_ ideas." They sit in silence for awhile until a commercial on the upcoming airing of How the Grinch Stole Christmas flashes across the screen. Ethan grunts in disgust at the horrible CGI in it, until his eyes widen slightly, a beautiful, glorious, evil idea coming to mind. "I know exactly what we're doing," he tells his enforcer, all but rubbing his hands together gleefully as he gets to his feet. "Get your stuff, we're leaving."

Once they make it to the car, Tyrus drives quietly, following Ethan's directions with no complaint closer to downtown, where it's mostly businesses and apartments stacked up on top of each other in claustrophobic ways. Their destination is a tall white building, like so many others in the immediate area, and Tyrus recognizes it immediately from Ethan's mocking comments over the last few months. However, he keeps his thoughts to himself, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel until Ethan gets out of the car, his injured arm doing little to hold him back.

Standing on opposite sides of the car, the two men stare up at the apartment, a dark smirk on Ethan's face. "C'mon, big man," he orders. "Let's go." Tyrus walks in his wake, following him into the apartment and to the elevator, which takes them to the fifth floor. Ethan walks as if he's taken this path a million times- Tyrus has to admit, he more than likely has- and stands at the door, staring at it for a moment before he pulls out a ring of keys, instinctively unlocking the door with a plain silver key, pushing the door open quietly. It's a bland looking studio apartment, the bed in one corner and a few chairs in another, TV and a small Christmas tree twinkling merrily across from the door. The painfully small kitchen is on the other side, with a door leading towards the bathroom, and Tyrus has to restrain his snort when he sees the derision on Ethan's face.

It takes a moment for Tyrus to realize but the soft sounds he's hearing is Rockstar Spud's breathing from the bed, steady and undisturbed from their presence as he sleeps on, unaware of what's about to happen. Ethan ignores this entirely, stepping into the middle of the apartment and turning in a circle, staring at all of the green, red and silver decorations scattered around the room, on the walls and sprawled across the windows. "Alright," he mutters, his game plan having been roughly described to Tyrus in the car. "Go for it, big man," he orders him.

As Tyrus immediately goes for the closest Christmas decorations, scooping them up carelessly and dropping them into a sack that Ethan had brought for this very reason, the obnoxious Carter can't resist approaching the bed, sneering as he watches Spud sleep on, his lips parted slightly. Ethan's face darkens even more as he looks down at him, gritting his teeth when Spud doesn't even shift, still unaware of his closeness. He rolls his eyes and looks away, watching with glee as more and more of the holiday spirit disappears from Spud's apartment with each passing moment, leaving it bare and lifeless. Tyrus leaves when all of the decorations are gone, heading back to the elevator to drop the bag into the car before coming back to collect the tree.

Ethan leaves Spud's side then, wandering around to make sure that nothing's hiding, determined to leave his former employee with absolutely nothing to enjoy this day. Once he's reassured that Tyrus hadn't missed anything, he steps back to the tree and examines it, his lips pressing tightly together once he recognizes a bulb that he'd bought the younger man on a whim when they were still friends because it had reminded him of one of his suits, with multicolored swirls splotching around the glass spun orb. He'd never told him how much time it'd taken, or how much it cost, because it was actually a personalized item he'd overseen directly, to ensure it wouldn't be messed up, and come out exactly how he'd wanted it to. He lifts it up from its place on the tree and grits his teeth, tempted to either smash it against the floor or throw it out of the window, but as soon as he touches it, Spud actually reacts, twisting around in his bed and moaning faintly, as if sensing Ethan's intentions with the prized object.

He pales, momentarily afraid of getting caught. "Go back to sleep, Spud," he mutters, trying to sound friendly and gentle, although he's anything _but._ When Spud settles once more, his face buried in his pillow, Ethan releases a soft breath and puts the ornament haphazardly back on the branch, his eyes narrowing. Thankfully, Tyrus returns then and the two of them grip the tree, although it's so small that it doesn't require both of them, Ethan just needs something to keep his mind busy. They pause in the hallway and Ethan turns, shutting and locking the door before they continue on their way. _All in all,_ he thinks, _that went _very_ well._ And if he's ignoring a niggling feeling as they take the elevator quietly back down to the first floor, he just decides that it's because he hasn't had breakfast yet.

-x

Not even half an hour later, Spud stirs and blinks around, confused at how dark his apartment is. He'd fallen asleep with the tree lit up for the last few weeks, its cheerful flashing soothing his loneliness when he wakes up every morning. He wonders if perhaps there's been a power outage, or the lights blew on the tree, something, but instead, when he turns around and sits up, his breath traps painfully in his chest and he shakes his head, not believing what he's seeing. Everything is gone- his tree, his glittery _Merry Christmas_ sign, the Santa and snowmen statues, even the red and green striped Christmas pen he'd used to fill out the few Christmas cards he'd sent out this year is missing from where he'd laid it the night before. The lights he'd put in the window are also gone, taking their cheerfulness with them, his face crumpling as he looks around at his dull, broken apartment once more. He suspects who may be behind this but the knowledge doesn't fix his pain or sadness, so he grits his teeth against the tears threatening to pour down his face and stands up, not willing to let _them _steal yet something else from him.

He pulls on a Christmas sweater, snowflakes surrounding some reindeer, and his jeans, before collecting a stack of presents from the closet that thankfully hadn't been touched. Overwhelmed by the relief that at least he has this much left, he stands at the window for a moment and stares out over the city, struggling to regain control of his emotions before he leaves. Recollecting the gifts, his coat and wallet, he's out of the door before he can take another look at everything his apartment's lacking. He walks down to his car, eyes locked on the stack of presents in his hands as he lowers them into his trunk, and sets off for his various destinations. He had already passed out some gifts to the TNA headquarters staff, but he had more personal gifts to spread around his closer friends, Eric Young, Jeremy Borash, even Crazy Steve had somehow made it onto his list after they'd bowled together a few weeks ago. Christy Hemme, Gail Kim, and a handful of other people who had showed him support over the year when everything else fell apart for him and he'd been forced to face a good many uncomfortable truths about the man he'd become while working for the Carters, coming out better for it in the end.

Spud's meager Christmas is trapped in Ethan's trunk, Tyrus off at a nearby restuarant getting food for them both, while Ethan watches for anything to happen in Spud's apartment. This would be the crux of his big trick, getting to see Spud's reaction to what he'd done. He has binoculars but he's not sure they're necessary, the car at a perfect angle to see the apartment windows should Spud get close enough. He'd nagged him in the past to get drapes or blinds, something, but Spud seemed to like looking out over the city without having to move anything out of his way, so Ethan had dropped it. Now he's glad for this particular eccentricity, able to watch as finally he sees Spud moving around in the apartment, his heart rate picking up as he waits for some ridiculous reaction. Wailing or rage, whatever the pitiful British man could muster up in the face of yet another soul-wrenching blow. Instead, things remain quiet. Subdued. He frowns, growing disappointed, when Spud approaches the window and stares out at the surrounding citylife, an unreadable look on his face from this distance. He disappears again, however, and Ethan relaxes, glad that he hadn't been noticed.

His breath stutters, however, when Spud himself exits the apartment building a few minutes later and walks determinedly towards the parking lot, a stack of gifts up to his head precariously held in his arms. Ethan breathes a little easier when Tyrus returns, the food immediately forgotten when he spots the look on Ethan's face. "Get in and drive, follow that man!" he orders, relieved when Tyrus does exactly as he'd ordered, even the smell of the food not enough to distract either of them as they speed to catch up with Spud's car, which is already a couple of blocks away. Tyrus is suspiciously good at tracking people, staying a few cars behind Spud as he travels from place to place, dropping off gifts and spending a few minutes inside each place, the stack in the trunk growing smaller with each stop. Ethan stews at his big plan backfiring as Spud seems undisturbed by all of it, as full of Christmas spirit as he had been prior to all of this.

Finally he leaves Jeremy Borash's, waving joyfully over his shoulder as he escapes back to his car and heads back in the direction of his studio apartment, his demeanor immediately changing as soon as he gets out of his car and approaches the building. There are no lights to greet him, no tree, nothing cheerful and bright, and Ethan can imagine the look on his face even though he never sees it as Spud trudges inside, his shoulders slumped and gaze locked on his feet. It's humbling and horrible, this man losing everything because of one ugly impulse but still finding the strength inside of him to go from place to place, with his brave face on, and share a little holiday spirit with everyone else in his life. Ethan swallows, remembering how diligent Spud had been with every member of the Carter family's birthdays, and every other holiday that had passed during their short friendship, suddenly feeling like a truly disgusting person.

"Dammit," he hisses, resting his head back against the headrest. "Tyrus, get out and return everything to his apartment, but just stay outside in the hall until I get there. I'll be with you in a minute." He listens as his enforcer, obviously confused but knowing better than to ask, drags himself out of the car and scoops everything out of the trunk, walking back towards the apartment building. As soon as he's inside, Ethan dials a well-used number that he has on hands for dates, or holidays, any time he's expected to host something. "I need your holiday special," he comments, remembering how delicious the food had been the year prior when Dixie had demanded he host the family's Christmas, her fresh off of a vacation with Serg and not wanting to have it at her house. Spud had helped him keep the truth from his aunt, the two of them sharing secret smirks when she'd complimented the food, the desserts, everything else. "Yeah, same as last year. As soon as you can. I'll pay three times your usual fee," he says, caring little about how many zeroes would be on the bill, as long as everything would go smoothly.

Hanging up, he grits his teeth and gets out of the car, walking towards the apartment. Tyrus had listened, Spud's things on the floor by his door while the enforcer waits for Ethan. He nods briskly at the larger man before walking up to the door, fighting the tremble that's threatening to overwhelm his fingers as he reaches out to knock on Spud's door, determined to try to make all of this right.

-x

Spud stares around his apartment, finally having no reason to stay strong, keep his emotions locked inside. The gifts are delivered, he has nowhere to be, not wanting to intrude on the few friends he'd gained since Ethan had fired him. His face falls as he takes in the empty space where his tree had once stood, hot, heavy tears pouring slowly down his flushed cheeks as he digs his fingers into his hair, tearing at his own scalp. "Bloody hell, why?" he keens, dropping to his knees by the TV and burying his face in his hands, lithe body shaking with the weight of his tears. "What did I ever do to deserve this?" But he knows, he knows all too well. He had hurt so many people on Dixie and Ethan's orders, he figures he deserves this loneliness. This bleak holiday.

He's so lost in his body-wracking sobs that he almost doesn't hear the knock on his door, breath stuttering in his throat as he cries harder, hiccuping. He shudders and whimpers, certain that the person has the wrong place, but when they knock again, he grudgingly gets back to his feet, his knees protesting the rough landing they'd just suffered. He brushes at his eyes half-heartedly, stumbling towards the door to see who's on the other side, try to help them find who they're looking for. Even if he's lonely and sad, others should be together with their loved ones, so... "I'm sorry, you probably have the wrong apartment, who are you-?" But his voice dies as he manages to focus through tear-filled, red-rimmed eyes, recognizing first Ethan and then Tyrus behind him. He blanches and steps back. "No, Ethan, it's Christmas Eve, why do you have to do this? I don't want to fight you, sir... Can't we just ignore each other on the holidays at least?"

His lip starts to wobble once more, betraying him as he steps back and tries to close the door on them, Ethan using his good arm to keep him from succeeding. "No, Spud, we can't, and do you know why?" Spud stays painfully silent, his lips pressed tightly together as he tries not to sob anew. "I have to return these things to you." As his dark blue eyes peer around the hallway, Spud's lips part in disbelief when he realizes that a bag with his decorations, and his little tree, are on the floor by his door. He mutely steps aside as Tyrus and Ethan both bring the items inside, Ethan dropping the tree back by the TV. Tyrus also bustles around, placing the various decorations back on the walls, the shelves where they'd originally been. He even replaces the green and red striped pen on Spud's small table, and he sinks onto the bed, watching them return his apartment to the somewhat more cheerful status it had yesterday when he'd fallen asleep.

He waits until they finish and his former employer has turned back to him to find his voice, the strength to speak. "Why...?"

"Because, Spud. Despite every physical sign of Christmas that you had being taken from you, your first inclination upon waking up was to give _more _to others." Ethan stares at him. "I'm not a nice guy, and you're too nice, so it's no wonder that our friendship was short lived... but I shouldn't have ruined your holiday. My parents would never let me hear the end of it if they'd gotten wind of what I did. This is just a little of how I want to make it up to you."

"There's more?" Spud asks weakly, just as there's another knock at his door. He expects Ethan to get it, since it's obviously something he's planned, but he waves Spud on so he hesitantly gets up and approaches the door, pulling it open to find a gaggle of people outside, food trays and serving platters in their hands. He gapes at them as Ethan invites them in and starts to direct them, a table being set up just off of his kitchen, all of the trays quickly filling his counter and the table. "Wha- what- Sir!" 

"A catered holiday meal," he tells him. smirk growing as Spud gapes at the people, recognization dawning on his face as he remembers the year prior. "It's the least I could do."

"Bloody hell," he whispers, walking towards the table in a daze, as if he thinks it's a dream. There's ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, devilled eggs, rolls, cranberries, green bean casserole, sweet potato casserole, with pumpkin and apple pies rounding out the meal. The sight alone is overwhelming, but it all smells so good that he can't wrap his mind around the sensory overload. "I won't be able to eat half of this..."

"I was thinking since we're not doing anything, we could eat with you," Ethan says, glancing over at Tyrus who nods, eyes locked on the food as well. "If that's alright with you, anyway."

Spud remains quiet for a long time, his innate pain over what Ethan had said and done to him the past few months warring with his not wanting to be alone for this holiday, even if it was just for the duration of a meal. He glances over his shoulder at the tree, spotting the spun glass ornament reflecting the lights beautifully, and he swallows, nodding. "Yes, I would like that," he finally agrees. "Thank you, Ethan."

"Merry Christmas, Spud."


End file.
