Chapter 1

"I can't do it."

"John?"

"I just can't do it. They beat me every time. Its over now, there's no one left to stop them."

"Cena your not making any sense. You can't do what?"

"Listen," Cena's voice came soft, but stressed, his words being laid from his tongue in such a deliberate fashion the other could easily tell he'd been thinking of how to say this for hours, "I know you don't like me, I know we've had our issues in the past-

"Cena-"

"Just wait! I get it, you don't want to talk to me, and under all other circumstances I have left you to your peace. But… and as much as I hate to say this… I need your help." Cena's desperation, as much as he tried to mask it, still filtered through his voice. The ache of his troubles vividly pronounced with the enunciation of each word. The other decided to listen.

"Go on." The voice came stern, seemingly pressed for time, but soothing, as though already seeing the dreaded outcome.

"Alright," a sigh came from Cena's lips, a staticy muffle resonating from the earpiece as a wave of relief was had. Taking a breath, and with a light smile, Cena turned his head into the phone and continued, "Now I know you haven't been keeping up with Raw lately, and I know how much you hate Vince and this company. You've said once you never want anything to do with it, ever again… but I'm asking you to come back.

Recently Raw has been taken over by a band of hooligans. A rag-tag team of misfits led by someone who legitimately won NXT Season One's competition. Now I know you probably don't know anything abo-"

"I've heard of it."

"Ah, ok, well then you may have also heard that the winner as well as 6 of the other competitors have been causing sheer havoc on Raw ever since. They've been injuring innocent people-"

"Get on with it Cena, I don't have all night."

"Right… sorry. Tonight was the night I wanted to finish them. I challenged their leader, that is to say the Nexus leader: Wade Barret, to a match tonight at our PPV, whereby if I won they would be disbanded for good…" Cena's conviction to the story wavered slowly near the end, his voice trailing feebly till it was barely audible. A curt noise reminded him of who he was dealing with, and quickly he continued, but solemn, that hint of desperation creeping into his voice again. "The flip side being, that if I lost… I'd have to join them. The rest… well…"

"I see. So you want me to break my vow to never again step foot in WWE, to save your sorry ass from some stupid faction of vicious noobs?"

"No, not just me. I'm not asking this on behalf of me, I'm asking on behalf of everyone employed at WWE. Not just the talent but also the technicians, ring announcers, and everyone… nobody is safe now. I lost. I have to join them. There's no one left to take my place to stop them… no one… but you."

A long silence settled between the two individuals, the receivers quiet between them, one person waiting intensely as the other thought of a reply. Finally, when the stillness was broken, it wasn't from Cena's end.

"I'll have to discuss this with the group. From the sounds of things, this is the only opportunity you may have to request assistance of any kind from any one. Therefore, I will think about it and chat with the others to see what they think of the situation."

Cena made a fist, a whisper of a smile taking to his lips, he knew this was the best answer he could hope to receive, even if it was a complete lie, he couldn't help but feel a speckle of hope creep into his core. Becoming more business-like, his composure returned, a jubilant and light-hearted tone siphoning through the receiver, "When will I have your answer?"

"Next Monday, on Raw. If we've decided to help, we'll be there. If not… well I think you can figure it out from there."

A sincere smile broke out onto Cena's face. This was more than he could ever have expected. "Thanks Arcon."

"Good night Cena."

Cena proceeded to hang up the phone, staring at the concrete wall he had been leaning against for the entire duration of the phone call, his gaze rose to the 4 men crowding around him, all with mixed expressions of relief and worry. Panic began to rise in him again, causing him to force his eyes closed, content to let darkness shut out the faces of the people whose future actions rode upon the outcome of that single phone call. Cena shunned all thought, and focused on the darkness that his eyelids granted him, the only solace to be had before the inevitable news. He could only hope that it would be taken well.