Hello everyone. :)

So this is my very first fanfiction story. I have been reading a ton of great stories on here and I just decided that I am going to give it a try. And writing is very important to me. It's my goal in life – to go to college, major in creative writing, and then hopefully publish a book. :)

I just started off with a one-shot. I don't want to jump right into a big story with chapters and such because I am new. Hopefully people will start to enjoy my stories and become regular subscribers and then I will get into the bigger and better stories.

Anyway, enough rambling, I really hope you enjoy this. I wrote it in a day so sorry if it sucks, I wouldn't be surprised, I just really wanted to post this!

Oh, and sorry for any spelling errors.

Complications

The crowd's roar of 'Let's go Cena!' filled the XL Center in Hartford, CT on a Saturday night. John was on his back, on the outside the ring, starring up into the bright lights above him which were fading in and out of sight. His breathing was slow and ragged. And he was feeling excruciating pain in his lower back. Something had gone terribly wrong.

The Miz was in the ring eyeing Cena – completely unaware of the fact that he was hurting. He stalked his opponent, waiting for him to stand back up, launch himself underneath the bottom rope and attack the Miz with fists of furry. But he remained still – a pained expression clearly on his face.

The crowd was oblivious to the fact the John was in serious pain. He was always good at making himself look contorted with comfortableness when needed. All they knew was that John needed to get back up and beat the Awesome One. They were pumped and were in need or more action which they knew John Cena could bring.

The ref wasn't even around due to Alex Riley – The Miz's apprentice – taking him out only moments earlier so Miz could take advantage of the situation. The WWE Championship was on the line. It was only a House Show, so the championship couldn't change hands, but The Miz knew he had to make it look like he was trying as hard as possible. So if that meant getting is protégé involved, he would do just that.

But once the referee was out of the ring, on the matted cement floor, unconscious, Miz tossed Cena out of the ring, causing him to land on is back. They've done that plenty of time before, and everything would always go smoothly. But somehow John had landed wrong. And he was now feeling the effect more than ever.

Miz, still completely clueless about what was happening, rolled out of the ring. He had to act. He couldn't just stand there like wimp, waiting for Cena to stand up and continue on with the match. He felt compelled to do something. He needed to improvise.

As The Miz approached the Champ, he noted that Alex was standing near the ring post, a ways away from Cena. His eyes were supposed to look vicious, full of exhilaration, that John was down and out. But Miz could see a hint of something else in them. What's going on? Miz thought quickly, before shaking his unsure feeling out his being.

He turned his attention back to John, whose eyes were now closed, the lights too bright for his pounding head. Beads of sweat slowly dripped down from John's forehead, leaving a small splatter on the black mat underneath him. His chest was heaving. Miz thought it was still all part of the act.

Quickly, The Miz reached for John's arm, putting him into a sitting position. He swore he heard Alex gasp 'No!' and was sure he heard that when John screamed in pain. Miz could feel that he was cold to the touch and his body was trembling slightly. Now that he knew what exactly was going on, he gently placed John back down on the mat, not wanting to move his body and cause any more damage.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a flash of brown zoom by him quickly and kneeled down on the opposite side of John. Miz stood, confused as to why Layla was out here now. His leg moved him over to stand by Alex and his eyes drifted toward the ramp where he saw two more referees and a few paramedics, stretcher in hand, running down toward the ring.

So if John was legitimately hurt, why was Layla down here with him? Since when were they friends? Or more then friends? The Miz wasn't sure.

John could sense that someone else was next to him now, though he refused to open his eyes. He didn't want to feel any more pain in his already throbbing head.

His gaze traveled back to John and Layla. Her hand rested gently on his head and he could see her lips moving, but was unable to hear what she was saying to Superstar.

The refs ushered Layla, Alex and Miz back. Alex and The Miz quickly complied and walked toward the ramp, not wanting to get in the way of the paramedics.

Layla on the other hand stood her ground. She didn't want to leave John. She couldn't leave John. Not when he was hurt. She was probably going to get in trouble with Vince because she came out to the ring uninvited.

Her brown eyes stayed locked onto John as the paramedics carefully lifted his body onto the stretcher. He groaned loudly at the sudden movement, his aching body needing to be left still. They swiftly strapped him up and carried him backstage with Layla hurriedly at their heels.

The Superstars and Divas who were backstage watched on his shocked faces as they watch their Champ get carried away. Once they noticed Layla their expressions changed to mere confusion. But the British diva didn't have time to explain now. All she wanted to focus on was John and where they were taking him. She figured to an ambulance, but she couldn't be sure.

But sure enough, when the team rounded the corner, right in front of them, with its doors already opened, was parked an ambulance. Its lights were flashing, the sirens silent. The loaded John into the back and he groaned out in pain. Before shutting the doors, one paramedic turned to Layla.

"Will you be riding with him?" he asked gently, clearly aware of the traumatic expression on her face.

She nodded curtly, and climbed into the ambulance along with one other paramedic who slammed the doors shut, giving the signal to the driver to take off.

Layla grabbed John's hand, holding it tightly between her two smaller ones.

John turned his head and opened his eyes just enough to see Layla's face. He could tell she was holding back tears. She was scared for him. She didn't want him to have to go through this right now. It didn't help that in the back of her mind she was thinking about what everyone was thinking about the two of them now. It weighed on her and she tried to brush it off. The only thing she needed – and wanted – to be concerned about at that very moment, was John.

Later on that night, Layla was pacing around in the waiting room of the hospital. They had come to conclude that John had fractured a disk in his lower spine. The doctors decided that it would be best to give him surgery right away or the fracture could become worse. Layla had been waiting for three hours and she was getting anxious and even more nervous.

Finally a doctor entered the room and she practically tackled him. "Is he okay?"

"Yes," he answered quickly.

"Really? When can I see him?" Layla rushed on.

"Now -"

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, she rushed past him and ran into the recovery room he was staying in. He was fully awake when she glanced at him through the glass window. He was propped up on a few pillows, another doctor asking him a few questions. Layla waiting in the doorway for him to finish talking.

"You will have to stay in recovery for a good three to four days. You shouldn't feel much pain, just slight discomfort."

"Alright. Thanks doc." John stuck his hand out and the doctor gratefully accepted it, giving him a warm smile. The doctor nodded at Layla before exited the room, leaving the two alone.

Layla approached the bed slowly; not taking her eyes off of John's whose deep, blue orbs were locked onto hers. His stare always made her nervous. To her it felt like he could read her deepest thoughts, making her feel slightly vulnerable. But it was just a genuine gaze her was giving her.

Slowly she sat on the bed so she was facing him. Their eyes never leaving each other's. He took her hand into his, squeezing it gently.

"How are you feeling?" Layla was the first to break the silence.

"Better . . . now that you're here." It was a cheesy line but it made her heart flutter and put a smile upon her face.

"You know," added as her smile faded slightly, "this wasn't the way I expected our secret to be revealed." John nodded in agreement. "Do you think we should come out and just be honest? At least with some of our close friends?"

John sighed and averted his gaze from hers. "This wouldn't be such a problem if I wasn't married . . ."

"Why are you still married, John?" Layla's question was gentle, but the way John's head snapped to look at her you would have thought she spat the question at him with pure hatred in her voice. "I'm sorry. I just thought . . ." she let her voice trail off.

"I love you Layla. With all my being. But how am I supposed to do that to my wife?"

"Don't you love me more? Aren't you happier with me?" Her questions were blunt, but she was tired of waiting. Now probably wasn't the best time to spill all her feelings out to him, what with the situation he was in right now, but once Layla started on something she felt strongly about, there was no stopping her.

"Of course I do!" he assured her. "I just need a little more time."

Layla sighed in compliance, not wanting to push the matter any further.

For the rest of the night the two sat together just looking at each other, hand in hand, sharing silent thoughts of love. Just hoping that one day everything would be perfect between the two of them and not any more complicated than their lives already were.