Brie is the one who says it to him. About an hour after he's broken up with her sister, he's sitting at the first bar he could find in the city and is staring down at his beer, having only taken a few sips of it. His mind is a ping-pong ball, bouncing off of his skull and essentially blank.
Someone drops into the seat next to him, and at first he has no idea who it is because he is minding his own business tonight. Then a hand falls on his shoulder and a distinctly familiar, feminine voice breathes right into his ear, "John Cena, you're a bad person."
He knows the voice is Brie's because dating Nikki for as long as he did afforded him the luxury of learning to tell her and her sister's voices apart. Sighing softly, he scrubs a hand over his face before lifting his head to look at her. She's done that subtle thing with her make-up, the whole art of using natural colors and lighter hues that makes her look nothing like Nikki and he's thankful for that. Before now, he never really took the time to appreciate the two of them could do their make-up and not look like twins, but being able to look at her and see no one but Brie—as opposed to looking at her and seeing Nikki—is truly a blessing in disguise if one ever existed.
"I'm not going to disagree with you," he says, noting the flicker of surprise in her dark eyes.
"How could you just break up with her like that?" Brie demands, and John's impressed she bounced back so quickly. "She really saw a future with you, you know? She loved you, John."
Nodding, he takes a sip of his beer and rolls it around in his mouth more to pass a few seconds of time than to actually get the full effect of the taste. "Felt bad lying to her like I was doing."
"So you didn't love her at all? I don't believe that." Brie sits up and pulls her hand back, and it's honestly shocking she hasn't used that hand to smack him in the face yet. She could. It'd hurt.
"I did. At first." He turns back to his beer and traces an N on the opposite side so Brie can't see it, the condensation shockingly cold beneath his finger. The bar is too hot, but it's the first one he managed to find. "But things change and people change, and this is just better for both of us."
Brie pushes herself up off of the stool, and John wonders how she managed to find him here in the first place. He's pretty sure no one else is here, at least not someone who would've told her where he was. "I hope you made the right choice. Else it's going to come back to haunt you."
It's such a Brie thing to say and he finds himself brushing it off, not wanting to think about the truth lying in her words and how many times he has repeated a similar mantra to himself in order to keep his sanity. Leaving Nikki hurts more than he wants to admit and he misses her now just as fiercely as he knew he would when the ultimatum was handed to him. If it was his choice, he never would have left her. She was the one, and he could see a future with her, too. But his colossal mistake—the one leading to this one—has come back to haunt him far too soon.
When someone sits down next to him, he glances up out of the corner of his eye so he can't be surprised again and represses a groan, turning it inward. Luke Harper is not the man he wants to see right now and unlike Brie, John has a funny feeling he knows exactly who told Luke he was here. Even though he never told anyone where he was going. Said person has a funny way of knowing where he is at all times, and though he played with the idea of being stalked in the beginning, he knows it's ridiculous and untrue. Someone else is watching them both, a third person who is very much a part of this and now that he's had the time to get to know the whole damn family, he knows just how well Sister Abigail's eyes follow him. Not that he feels comforted by it the way Bray does; he feels dirty and disgusted. But that seems to be the theme for this entire thing, and he can foresee no way of changing this any time soon. Not now. It's too late to change anything and this fact is quickly closing its clawed hands around his throat.
"He asked me to come check on you," Luke says, waving down the bartender and ordering a beer of his own. "She said you were fine, just alone with your thoughts, but he wanted to be sure nothing else was going on. Was that your girl or her sister that just walked out the door?"
John glances over at the big man and has to reflect on the fact that Luke is the only member of the Wyatt Family he feels comfortable with. Away from the others, Luke is almost normal and he can speak normally without making everything into a damn puzzle like he does. John can have a normal conversation with him and understand their dialogue without having to wonder if he is slowly going insane. And at least Luke seems to understand some of what he is struggling to deal with right now, having had to give up the one person that means the most to him.
"Her sister. Brie. She told me I was a bad person for leaving Nikki. I told her I didn't disagree with her." John smiles ruefully before taking a longer drink of his beer, wishing it was whiskey or vodka or something that would burn instead of just sliding down his throat. He'd get drunk faster, too, and maybe he wouldn't feel as poorly as he does for as long an amount of time.
Luke turns to face him slowly, every move deliberate, and his dark brown eyes meet John's at a relaxed pace. In the ring, he's faster than most of the roster but outside of it, he takes his sweet time about things. It's interesting. "You're not a bad person for doing what you had to do to protect the woman you love. One day, maybe both of them will understand that better."
"Oh." John swallows around the tightness in his throat and stares down at his mostly empty beer, uncertain of what to say in response. Luke is the normal one, he thinks. Luke is the one who really understands it. Maybe even regrets it, too. "Thanks. That's nice to hear someone say."
He gets a nod in response and finishes off his beer, ordering another while Luke works on his own. A silence settles between them, but it's not uncomfortable and John finds himself comforted by it more than anything else thus far. Luke knows what must be given up in the face of the Wyatt Family, after all, because he is one of them and he knows. He just knows.
When he finishes his second beer and Luke his first, John knows it's time to go and rises when Luke does, following him out of the building. Outside, the air is cooler on his skin and a welcome respite as he falls in step beside the bigger man. The hotel isn't far, but the walk is still refreshing and even if his chest still feels heavy and leaden, he thinks it might lighten up one day.
There's no bother in calling Bray and asking if he wants him to come over tonight because the answer is always yes and John knows he doesn't have to call at this point. Instead, he just follows Luke into the elevator and up to Luke's floor, breaking off and heading to a different room. He doesn't know how he knows the door number, except he does, and then he knocks.
The door swings open and John steps into the darkness, closing the door behind him. "I'm here."
"You don't exactly sound happy to be here," Bray's voice says from somewhere, and John strains for the sound of the rocking chair creaking, following it over toward the window.
"I'm not." He finds the drawstring and pulls it, opening the curtains and spilling city light into the room. Bray is beside the window in his rocking chair. "I broke things off with her. Happy?"
There's a long pause as Bray stares up at him, no doubt processing the words. "Of course."
"Glad one of us is." He sits on the edge of the sill and stares out at the city instead of Bray.
Bray goes back to rocking and John continues to stare at the city, unwilling to give into the tumult of emotions building up inside of him or confide anything in Bray. Of all people… Just no. His muscles start to complain after he's been tensed for so long so he forces himself to relax, rolling his neck to work the stiffness out of it. The change in the rhythm of the creaking makes him glance up to see Bray standing and heading for the single bed in the room.
"You're not a bad person," Bray says, and John glares at his back because he sure as hell didn't mention that part… But does it matter at this point? "Are you staying in my room tonight?"
No. But John finds himself shrugging out of his t-shirt and heading for the bed just the same.
A/N: First installment in the Bad People trilogy, just sort of an angsty John/Bray I've decided to write. The fact anyone has gotten behind John/Bray just feels my heart with joy. Because I adore this pairing and I'm going to sail this ship until I drown with it.