A/N: A shortish thing that came to me at work the night before. It's been a while since I paid any attention to my Matt muse and I think this was his way of getting my attention. Enjoy dear readers.

Life turns out funny. Some things that people think they know as fact turn out to be little more than tissue paper lies held together only by misconceptions. My life is the perfect example of it all. To compare us, everyone would assume he's my protector and to some point he is. He's stood up for me screen and defended me against internet 'smarks' that want nothing more than to rip me to shreds as if they hold the right to pass judgment on my pass sins. However it's under the inky twilight in countless dirty hotel rooms where I've taken over and became the steel that he needed to cling to when the dark void of depression threatened to swallow my brother whole.

For all that Matt Hardy is the strongest of us both on screen, behind it I am the unmovable force that held the horrors of Matt's mind at bay. Slowly I introduced him to the fledgling internet with its joys of writing without consequence; letting his creativity take over and it wasn't long before he had the bulk of the internet wrestling community eating out of the palm of his hand. However as much as I could be the force Matt needed I had my own weaknesses and I could never deny him anything when he used those large brown eyes on me and that's where he came in. I might be the unmovable force but he was the unbending will and it took me a while to see that Matt needed him more than me. And it stung.

I hated him. Hated him more than anyone else that had made an appearance in Matt's life—and there were plenty that I couldn't stand that had come and gone through the years. Hated his long blonde hair and his large nose; hated that Matt seemed to want the pain that the big brute was laying down on him. We had our fights over it, long and loud and ending in shoving and fighting. But each time it ended the same, Matt would state plainly that I had no idea what I was talking about and leave with him. It took me a while to see what Hunter was doing for my brother and not to my brother. Although some of the bruises and that godforsaken collar made it hard for me to ignore what I though was just domestic abuse. And yes, Matt tried to explain it to me but I thought I was right and knew it all.

We had our falling out, our split where I jumped ship and left Matt to defend the Hardy name for WWE. He had his Master after all in his corner, what else did he need? It was all too apparent too soon that without me in his corner the horrors that I'd worked so hard to restrict were coming back and swallowing Matty away. Even the fans could see it and wasn't long before Matt was released. Yeah he said he asked for it, and I'm sure he did—Matt's always had a good head when it was clear—and I managed talk him to joining me in the rival company. But he wasn't happy, I could see it in his drawn and tired face, in the way he slumped around back stage in between segments, and in the increased use of stimulants to forget.

Matt then too departed from there and found himself at home, puttering around his house like a lost soul; his pride in his career gone and his will to live sapped away. I had to do the only thing that I could think to do and that was to make the call. I can't do it alone; just he couldn't do it alone. Matty is a multisided person and what good is the unmovable force if there is no unbending will behind it. Together we worked as one to put my brother back together; and I got to see the dynamic that Matty had tried to so hard to explain.

The collar wasn't a symbol of oppression, it was link, a safety net that allowed Matt to give himself over completely to him and not worry about the landing because he was there to catch him when it got to be too much for him to handle. The heavy handed tactics weren't used to control through pain, but to free my brother from his earthly coils for a brief period of time and just be an entity at one with his surroundings. And the effects were obvious, my brother lost weight, his skin stopped looking sallow and he started again to take care of himself—he was alive again and grabbing it by the horns in which he was accustomed too. With some nudging from both directions he finished a few rehab programs and things were going well; his demons laid to rest and his goals once more attainable with only some hard work.

And then Calaway had to butt in. He had to demand things that were stressing them out and there was nothing I could do to help. He didn't want to leave Matt for the long periods of time that it'd take to promote and work the promos for the Mania match and Matt wanted to him to do what made him happy. There were a few rows between them and more than punishment that I'd been audio observer too. But in the end it was the war of words on tv with Shawn that broke Matt down. He seen himself as a burden that was holding him back and for a few days he wouldn't come out of his room no matter what I'd said or done and I feared that the underlying darkness that always clung to the outer edges of my brother could make an appearance again.

It took a couple of sessions between the two before things returned to normal and found them laying on the couch, Matt's head in his lap with his large fingers tangled in the dark curls as they watched tv quietly.

"You're Welcome to join us."

With a smile I joined them, playfully tugging on Matt's hair before nudging him in the side before settling down and watching the spectacle that Teddy and John were making of themselves. It was in the glow of the tv that I realized the lost piece of mine and Matt's fractured puzzle was finally put in place and that he he'd helped me become a better person as well helped heal my broken brother.