Note to Self Chapter 1: First Part: The Last Day, a wrestling fanfic

I felt like a one-shot then I changed it into a two-shot when I got the overall idea in my head. It may evolve into something more.

Note to Self
Rated: T – angst; darkness
Summary: [Randy's POV] Note to self: I know I'd rather die than let him see me like this. Note to Self: I know he'll miss me and sometimes, I just wish he didn't care if I lived or died. TWOSHOT. CENATON.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst

First Part: The Last Day

Randy Orton's hand goes to John's face, stroking it, but all that's in John's eyes are pure, hard anger, and Randy's body fills with horror as he realizes how much danger he can be in…no one knows that he's here… and he's just so angry…and he's just so very hurt without John even laying a finger on him…

"You little faggot, get the hell out of my sight." John snaps at him, making Randy tremble on the inside but he'd never show his pain and he'd rather die than knowing that he's shown John how much he really loves him and he wants to die on the inside knowing that John's eyes are looking at him, with disgust right now and his entire world's flipping upside down.

"John—"

"Get the hell out of my sight, Orton!" John's voice is cracked with anger, and rage and he watches as Randy's body moves so elastically away from him and he stops to look back at him, to look back at those burning angry eyes that burn right through him and all he can do is shake in his place.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't freaking know, Orton! All I know is that I want you out of my sight!"

"What are we going to do?" Randy repeats the question—how can he wrestle with him, knowing that he loves him? Knowing that he'd told him just that? Knowing that two minutes ago, he had been shaking and admitting that he loves him. "What do we do, John?! I can't do this anymore! I can't—"

"Oh shut up," John snaps.

"What?"

Randy doesn't speak. He's silent.

"You think this is going to be like all the other love stories, Orton? That you suddenly say that you love me and I just say that I love you, too and we hug and you leave your wife and not care about who we really are? You think that's the deal, Orton?" John snaps.

"I know you love me, John."

"Oh really? What's your proof?"

"You're in love with me…you've just locked your heart away in your own coffin of darkness because if you do that, you think that you can't get hurt by anyone…well I've got news for you, I won't break your heart, John…I won't hurt you."

"I don't believe you."

"Why not?"

"I don't believe anything anymore."

"John…"

"Just get out of my sight," his voice's so soft right now that it hurts to listen to him.

"I love you."

"I hate you."

"You don't."

"I'm not opening myself up to you. I don't care if I'm turning down the best offer in the world. I'm not doing this. Ever."

"You'll get hurt in the end, John."

"No, I won't! Okay! I'm not a little kid anymore. I know what to think and I know what to do and I won't let anyone, just anyone, hurt me." By this time, all John can taste in his mouth is his own blood and tears and sweat.

"I'm not anyone. I'm Randy Orton."

"I'm not sure of that anymore either."

"John, open up your eyes."

"I can't. They're too shut tight."

"Then I don't need to get out of your sight if they're so shut tight."

"I want to be alone."

"You don't mean that."

"What do I mean then?"

"That you don't want to get hurt."

"Don't you get it the first time? JUST GET THE HELL OUT OF MY SIGHT!" John feels annoyed watching as Randy jumps up at the sudden anger in his voice and John watches, as Randy's body moves, and he disappears into the shadows. "See? I mean it. I want to be alone…yes, so alone…"

There's no sound around him.

The taste of blood, sweat and tears, it's thicker, suffocating him, choking him.

"I mean it…"

His voice's softer as he looks around.

"I don't know who I am anymore…"

He falls to his eyes, letting his eyes bat and he looks around.

He'd heard that. Too many freaking times.

He grabs onto his hand by his hair, almost wanting to tear his hair out of his head.

"I mean it…" his voice's louder. "I want to be alone!" he shouts to the world, so that he can feel it but he can't and he's just so dizzy as he looks down at the road's floor and he knows that he's alone—this is his hideout—he didn't think that Randy Orton of all people can find him but he had.

"I…w-want to be alone…"

He hits his head with the floor.

"Lying to yourself? Is that going to do anything good, John? You fucked up and you know it…"

It's been two months since that.

Randy Orton doesn't dare look at John Cena anymore, not wanting to see the disgust on John's face and he rarely talks to him anymore, and in matches with him, he lets either Cody or Ted do all the work and he'd hit Hunter or whoever else would be in the ring with John Cena and he knows it's because he

A day at the beach.

Randy knows that they're coming to take him away. He stretches on his blanket, looking at Cody Rhodes as he shares an ice cream cone with Ted DiBiase, cute, adorable, very innocent, and as Randy looks at the water, feeling a shiver up his spine as he stands up, and feels the hot sand between his feet.

"Orton!"

Randy's eyes drift towards John Cena.

"What the hell?" he asks, holding up a living fish flopping in his sandwich, walking towards Randy who can't stop chuckling under his breath, "what is this?"

"That's Cody and Ted's present." Randy explains, glancing back at the relaxed duo, stretched out towards each other, sweaty, but Randy can almost feel the coolness of Ted and Cody's skin from the cold lotion they use before they go to the beach, Randy looks back to see John shrug his shoulders and bring the living fish to his mouth. "You are really going to eat that?"

"It's food, isn't it?" John asks him, feeling the fish flop even more. "If this does end up in my mouth, I'm going to kill you."

"Who told you to bring the fish so close to your mouth?" Randy inquires, raising his eyebrow to which John only responds to by running over to Ted and Cody, throwing the fish towards them as it gaps for water, flopping around, making Cody stand up and squeal like a child and having Ted's face plaster with disgust.

John and Randy burst into a chorus of laughter, staring as Ted tries to wipe away the remains and Cody reluctantly stepping back to his positions, and then they both glare at them. "Next time: we're putting CM Chimpunk in your sandwich."

"Oh, I'd like him in a sandwich," Randy says, making John grimace in disgust and as he tries to hide the disgust on his face, Randy shoots an annoyed look—feeling his confidence crumble from under him. "What's wrong with you?"

"Don't make gay remarks with me around, Orton, you know how much I don't like that!" John shouts.

"What? I change my thoughts just so I can satisfy you?" Randy snaps.

"Two months ago, you'd do anything to satisfy me!" John exclaims, making Randy go pale as he rushes towards his bag, and starts wearing his pants, zipping them tightly, and searches around for his t-shirt, cursing the world inside of his head and then, he looks at Ted and Cody who innocently remind Randy that the shirts they have are too tight to fit Randy and Randy takes the bag behind him, striding, making John walk behind him who's in his ripped jeans and white sand-filled sneakers, and still has his soggy sandwich, or at least half of it, in his hands.

"Look, I didn't mean it that way." John tries to convince Randy.

"You mean it. You mean it when you said you hated me! I believe you. I believe when you said you don't secretly love me—"Randy says and John grabs onto his wrist, twirling Randy around so that they're eye to eye and Randy and John suddenly don't know where they are, it looks like a parking lot of something, and looking back, they can see the beach, and they feel unwelcome there from the coldness that's burning inside of them.

"I'm not gay." John says. "And I'm sorry I'm not but that's life, isn't it? Though if you really think I'm incredibly handsome, I'd like to hear about that."

"There you go again, Cena! Thanks a lot," Randy snaps.

"What's wrong with you?"

"You're making me want it again."

"Want what?"

"To kiss you."

John and Randy let the silence sink in as John explores through Randy's hard blue eyes as the darkness condenses and sparks of black fill up his eyes.

"What do you want from me, Orton?" John asks.

"One day. Just one day."

"One day of what?"

"I want you to stay with me. For one day."

John blinks before he stares at Randy's somber face and he nods his head slowly, feeling Randy hug him, feeling the brush of Randy's cold body melt John's hot one but John won't surrender to pretty hugs and sweet kisses. He knows that he's not gay and he's not going to let Randy convince him otherwise.

As John and Randy go to John's sports car, Randy sitting alongside with him, texting Cody and Ted, saying that he's going to go away with John Cena for a while for a little talk and he watches as John drives.

"Where do you want to go?"

"Nearest store."

They pulled up to the nearest 24 Hours and John watches as Randy looks around the magazines, shoving objects towards the counter and John's brain phases out before Randy walks up to him, clutching onto the plastic bag and John knows that it's time to go.

"Where else?"

"Back to the hotel."

John doesn't understand. It's like being a limo driver again. They're certainly not doing anything exciting or action filled. Just a boring, 'let's go here and there' with no plan and John watches as Randy hops off, John reluctantly following him and as they reach Randy's room, John notices the many pictures of him that Randy has around, some of them are torn, some are neatly placed there and John's smirk widens. "Someone's obsessed, right?"

Randy simply nods his head sorrowfully. "Addictions are horrible."

John watches as Randy lays a blue blanket on the floor, laying on it, throwing the contents of his bag down and John's head is racing with confusion as Randy sits on his back, holding onto his notebook and taking a pen. "You're going to just write around?"

Randy nods his head.

"What do you want me around for then?" John asks. "Am I just a new collection to this room or something, Orton? Or is this all a joke and DiBiase and Rhodes are going to storm here with a bunch of streamers and sing around?"

Randy shakes his head, throwing a packet of Solitaire over to him and he looks at it, sighs as he sits down beside him, and starts playing around with the cards. After about two hours of playing around with himself, John lets out a sigh of boredom. "What the hell are we doing, Orton?"

Randy gets side tracked. "I'm coloring and you're playing with cards. Why?"

"Coloring?" John blurts out, laughter filling the air as he looks from Randy's shoulder. "You're drawing me?"

"Yeah, what you think?" Randy asks.

"I swear you put too much focus on my ass."

"That's because that's one hell of an ass," Randy responds, making John blush deeply but he won't surrender—ever…he won't, will he? He's starting to doubt it as John picks up the color green to color his t-shirt and Randy looks at John's body, staring at the perfection as his muscles move.

"There," he says, finishing the drawing for Randy. "You crying?"

"No," Randy says, wiping away his tears, seeing as John holds onto his back and brings him close, so they're cuddling together, having Randy put his head on John's chest, with tears falling down rapidly.

"Why are we acting like six year old kids today, Randy?" he asks—the screaming, the crying, the coloring…

"How else would you spend your last day on Earth, John?"

John's face pales as he realizes the seriousness of Randy's voice and brings him closer, suddenly resenting himself for being such a jerk to Randy. "Last day? You joking or something, Orton?"

"No," Randy whispers, hugging himself to John's chest even more, feeling John collapse to the floor.

"But what about Ted and Cody? They seem to be pretty happy last time I checked with them…" John remembers the happiness, envied it, so very much.

"They don't know. No one was supposed to know but I just fuck up everything, don't I, Cena?"

"No. No. Don't think like that."

"You aren't the happiest person alive either, John," Randy says, holding onto John's shoulders, burying himself into John's chest, 'what are we going to do?"

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"John…if today was your last day, what would you do?"

"I don't know. Try to make the best of it."

"Best of what? I don't have a life, John. The only reason I'm alive is because some angels were sorry for me. Just got rejected by you. But I can't prolong Hell much longer."

"Don't think like that!"

"John, that's the truth."

"It's not the damn truth."

"You're only sorry for me. You would've never done this to me if you didn't know any of it. I'd die and you'd just move on. That's the story."

"I don't know what the story is anymore."

"What do you know, John?"

"That I'm sorry and I'm a crazy idiot who should've never taken this for granted."

"I want to run away, John. Let's run away together. Escape death. Forever."

"Randy, you're not insane."

"I'm too insane!"

"Randy…"

"What?"

"…you're bleeding…hard…"

I don't like this chapter.

I hate it.

A lot.

Next chapter will be the ending. But it make be a three-shot or a four-shot, depending. Review?

;) Sam