Title: Bittersweet Hero

Rating: M for violence

Summary: How he played Superman, stopping a speeding bullet. Only...he didn't use his chest and he didn't exactly walk away unscathed. In fact...he didn't walk away at all.

Warnings: Slash.

Disclaimer: I own nothing and no harm is meant, seriously people.

Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.

A/N: No fucking clue where this one came from. Guess I should say that I know nothing about the town of West Newbury, Mass or any of John's brothers.

And when I say Jillian, yes I mean the one who tries to sing but sounds like a screeching cat.

John and Randy rolled into West Newbury, Mass a little after noon that Tuesday. It was a rare few days off for both men and John Sr. had insisted that they spend it with the family. A day or two in the sun with barbecue, football and beer. What more could a man ask for?

"So tell me again, why I agreed to this?" Randy mumbled from the passenger seat. He wasn't exactly happy about spending his days off with the entire Cena clan. We're talking about five other potential John's here, people. You feel his pain, right?

"Oh quit your bitching" John laughed. He was a kid in the candy store excited about going home. It'd been a little over two years since he'd gotten to see all his brothers at once. "It's not gonna be any different from a day out with some of the guys."

"Except for the fact that it'd be rude to tell your family to go fuck off when they start annoying me." Randy argued, kicking back his seat so he could lay down. "Plus, me and your dad aren't exactly on speaking terms in case you've forgotten and," Randy paused to make sure John was listening."There's no sex two nights cause dear ol' Johnny wants to stay at the family home." According to John, their...extra curricular activities might cause a bit of psychological damage to his family and Lord knows, we wouldn't want that now would we.

"It's all cruel and unusual punishment from where I'm sitting."

"First of all," John began as he got off I-95. Roughly, the boys had another thirty minutes before they'd reach the Cena home. "Don't you think it's kind of rude to tell anyone to go fuck off?"

Randy just shrugged, lacing his fingers behind his head.

John rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. How the hell he even put with Randy was still one of those unknown mysteries of the universe.

"Second, if you don't bring up the little punting incident then neither will he. Third-"

"I'm not worried about him bringing it up, I'm worried about payback." Randy retorted cutting John off. "How do I know this isn't some elaborate scheme to ambush and torture me until I start screaming like a little school girl?"

Not even a full second passed by before they both erupted in laughter, the image of Randy doing just that forever imprinted in both their minds.

"Over dramatic, much." John offered once he could breath again, cocking a brow at Randy's prone form.

"But back to what I was saying. It won't kill you to keep your hands to yourself for a few days."

"Maybe, maybe not. But your a real hard man to ignore, Johnny." Randy professed, cutting his slate eyes in John's direction. "And you know I'm not always accountable for my actions."

"Well, than how bout this. You keep your hands to yourself or that torture will come in the form of a 15 track cd. By Jillian." John countered with a smirk.

"My ears!" Randy growled, covering them with his hands. "Talk about cruel, that's for damn sure."

"Your call." John said in amusement. "You've been forewarned."

Randy didn't answer. He only glared at John for a second before slowly morphing that glare into a smirk. We'll see.

The next twenty minutes of the ride flew by in silence.

John wondered just how much had changed with his brothers. Sure they did the whole phone call and e-mail deal but there were just some things that you saved for face to face conversation. It was, you know, like an unwritten rule or something.

Randy on the other hand was a bit...apprehensive. Not scared, just...apprehensive. He'd never really spent that much time getting to know any of John's brothers. He really only knew their surface info, like what they were doing now, if they were married or had kids. Shit like that with maybe a few wacky childhood stories thrown into the mix. If John's brothers were anything like him, Randy was positive he'd be the butt of plenty of jokes before this 48 hour period was over. It was the types of jokes that worried him.

John's cell soon interrupted the comfortable silence. It was attached to the car charger but instead of turning on the speaker phone John asked Randy to answer it.

"Get that for me, will ya"

"Why can't you just use the speaker phone? You know, they invented those for a purpose." Randy queried, a little annoyed. He'd been on his way to dreamland.

"I'm tryna concentrate on the road." John insisted. "Unless you want us to end up in a ditch, answer the phone."

Randy reached for the phone mumbling under his breath. He answered it right before voice mail picked up.

"Hello"

"Hey Randy, my boy." John Sr. hollered, causing Randy to wince and jerk the phone away from his ear.

After his ear quit ringing, he asked, "Hey Mr. Cena. How are you?" Trying his best to keep his tone neutral.

"Doing fine, thank you. Just calling to make sure you boys hadn't gotten lost." The older man chuckled, causing Randy to roll his eyes, earning himself a punch in the arm from his lover.

"We're doing just fine, Mr. Cena" Randy assured, glaring at John. "We're about ten minutes out."

John nodded. They were just about to pass the little mom and pop shop he and his brothers always ended up at after school. The running joke back then was that the Cena money covered the payroll. Everybody else's was just extra profit.

"Ten minutes, good, good. Oh wait! Tell John to stop at that little store." Randy tapped John's thigh and pointed in the direction of the store, mouthing 'pull over'. "It seems I don't have as many hot dogs as I thought or any good beer according to Steve." John Sr. explained. "John will know which kind to buy."

John pulled into the parking lot, taking one of the spots next to the door. He waited while Randy made a bit more small talk with his father, passing along the hellos before saying good-bye

"What are we getting?" John asked as they got out the SUV. For it to be lunch time, there weren't too many other people around, he noticed. Only four other cars littered the parking lot.

"Your brother, Steve, wants better beer and your father ran out of hot dogs." Randy relayed as he opened the door, smirking at John. "Age before beauty"

John didn't verbally acknowledged the comment. He just flipped Randy the bird as he walked in.

"Johnny!"

Mrs. Gabriel squealed the moment they entered the shop. She shuffled over to the two men, wrapping her small arms around the thick waist of the older man. "Been a long time since you decided to visit little ol' us. Came in town last month and didn't even stop by." She chided the man as he kissed her cheek.

"Hey Mrs. Gabriel. You know I can't forget about you and Mr. Gabriel." John was all dimples as he took in the elderly lady's appearance. Even at the age of 65, she still didn't look a day over 40. High cheek bones, porcelain skin and hazel green eyes just as he remembered her. She did seem to be getting a bit slower, though that was to be expected in old age. "You all were like my second family"

"Don't I know it. You boys spent more time here than you did at home." Mrs. Gabriel reminded him.

"Oh, Harold will be happy to see ya. He just recently came across an old Torino but-" Her words died in her throat as she caught sight of the man standing behind John. A predator if she ever saw one.

John followed Mrs. G's somewhat frightened gaze, turning around to glance at his lover. Randy's face was expressionless, his grey-blue eyes narrowed as he examined his surroundings. He stood erect, exuding nothing but confidence and maybe a little something else. Something John couldn't quite place.

But he did know that if Mrs. G was scared of him now, it would not be wise to piss Randy off in her company. Wouldn't want to literally scare her to death.

"Mrs. Gabriel, this is my friend Randy." John said, finally breaking the awkward silence and introducing the two. "Randy, this is Mrs. Gabriel, my third grandma"

Randy tuned back into the conversation at the sound of his name. He cocked his head at the little lady, studying her. Her fear lit something inside him. He hadn't done anything yet and he could already tell she'd rather be anywhere then in his presence. Maybe Mass. wouldn't be so bad after all.

He smiled, stepping forward and extended his hand. "Hello, ma'am."

"Ra-..Randy is it." She extended her own and watched with slightly widened eyes as the young man bent to kiss the back of her hand. The perfect gentlemen.

"Nice...nice to meet you" She faltered, pulling back her hand and taking a step back. "Well, I'll just...just go get Harold." Smiling at John, Mrs. Gabriel cast one last weary glance Randy's way before taking off towards the back of the store.

John watched her for a moment before turning to stare at Randy. "What am I going to do with you?"

Randy ignored him for the moment in favor of looking around.

The shop hadn't changed much since John was a kid. Newer products but still the same old set up. Register lining the right wall as soon as you walked in. Of course the cigarettes were behind the counter. The cold cases were at the very back with six or so mini isles of food in front of them. Off to your left were the non-food items, like plates, magazines, and batteries to name a few. But John's favorite part of the store was still smack dab in the middle.

Candy. Loads and loads of candy displayed in a multilevel clear case for everyone to see. Gum, chocolate, hard candy, just about anything you could think of and most of it was either a penny or a nickel. Could that be the reason John forgot to stop by last month...

Randy slowly turned himself to face his lover, that something John just couldn't figure out coming off him in waves.

He didn't feel right or...the air just didn't feel right. Tension was building but he couldn't tell from where.

A mother and daughter, a freckled, red headed little girl, seemed quite content browsing the dessert isle. The both of them humming a catchy little tune he thought he recognized. Maybe Train? He wasn't positive. Even the dark character scanning the rack of magazines didn't worry him too much. The only thing the kid seemed to be guilty of was wearing too much black. Black hair, shirt, pants, and shoes. Randy probably wasn't wrong in assuming the boy's socks and underwear were also the same lovely color.

These were the only other people in the store besides Mr. and Mrs. Gabriel yet Randy still felt irked. The balance was off somehow. The natural order of things was about to be royally fucked up, he could just feel it.

"Randy!"

John's voice filtered into his thoughts. He locked his troubled gaze on the other man's mildly annoyed gaze.

"Okay...Since you've clearly checked out, how about I go get the hot dogs and beer while you pick out a pack." Naturally, John would know he was out.

He nodded, ignoring the questioning look in his lover's eyes. Maybe his nerves were just getting to him. It had been a few days since his last cigarette.

John just shrugged. He'd get Randy to talk later on.

He walked back towards the cold cases, offering a smile to the little girl as he passed. She returned it, her own dimples making themselves known.

After grabbing what he needed, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Taking it out he continued walking.

A text message from Sean.

Don't forget the candy, J. You know you want some!

Jackass, John chuckled to himself. Even if he brought the candy, he'd most likely never taste any of it. His brothers just loved to remind John about his strict diet. And by remind, I mean tease.

Since he wasn't looking where he was going, he never saw the blond paused in the middle of the isle with his back to him.

"Oops! Sorry man" John apologized as he reached out to steady the other man. "Didn't see ya there"

"No...no problem." The blond stuttered turning around, shooting John a funny smile. Not 'haha' funny, by the way, if that made any sense.

But once again, John just shrugged. Brushing it off as his own overactive imagination. Really, he was too distracted with the day's plans to care all that much.

Both men made their way to the front. John stopping next to the candy while Mr. Funny made his way towards the door stopping just short of leaving to read the bulletins posted in the front window. He kept fidgeting with the pocket of the coat he was carrying.

"Johnny, my boy!" Mr. Gabriel called when he spotted him. The white haired man leaned heavily on his cane as he limped over to John. "There's our champ."

Randy, who had actually been making small talk with Mrs. Gabriel, caught the movement of Mr. Funny out of the corner of his eye and tensed.

Wait a second...

Randy hadn't heard the door open so where the hell had this blond fucker come from? And he was positive he hadn't seen him down any of the isles when he scanned them so where had the guy been hiding and why?

Mrs. Gabriel noticed the change in the young man and stopped talking. His eyes were looking right at her but she could tell he wasn't seeing her anymore. She looked around but couldn't pin point what would have suddenly put that cold, guarded expression on such a handsome face.

"Everything okay, Randy?" She asked, puzzled. He didn't answer though, just turned around and leaned against the counter.

For Randy, the tension he felt earlier came back in full force. Almost suffocating him with its intensity. Not just bad nerves, no. Alarms were going off like crazy in his head. But as he took in the blond's appearance he almost wondered if he might be finally losing it.

Cliché college snob was all he could think of. Khaki's, dress shoes, a button down shirt and a honest to god sweater tied around the boy's neck. He knew from his relationship with John that sometimes it was the goody-two-shoes who you needed to watch out for but he wasn't too sure this guy could cause much damage, if any.

However he was a little twitchy and that coat in his hands...

"Hey Randy, you want some?" John called, blissfully unaware of his lover's tormented state of mind.

Little red had joined him and Mr. Gabriel, all three of them sifting through the candy. Comparing favorites and what not while the two men talked shop on the side.

It was just seconds.

Randy let his guard down to look over at John for just a second and the blond fucker picked up on it, making his move. In a matter of seconds, everything had gone to hell in a hand basket.

"Everybody fucking freeze!"

Too scared, too unsure and too nervous to be a command. His first time and his last if Randy could just get that damn gun away from him. Even out his playing field a little.

He may have been a white boy but he knew better than to bring a knife to a gun fight, so to speak.

He never got the chance, though.

As the words and situation sank in, John did the exact opposite. Grabbing little red as she began to scream, he turned away from the man, shielding Mr. Gabriel also and sealing his fate.

Mr. Funny jerked the gun in their direction, more panic than anything else but pulled the trigger just the same. John's lower back the bull's eye, the bullet the dart. A perfect shot for such a frightened amateur.

Randy's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the gun firing and his breath caught in his chest as the back of John's white t-shirt colored cherry red. He may have screamed NO aloud but almost every instinct he had was screaming for him to get his ass over to John. To check on his mate.

Instead, he listened to the one instinct that wasn't screaming at him to go over to John. The one that was screaming at him to go kill the poor fuck that caused John pain.

The kid had already dropped his gun and coat to the floor. But it never dawned on him to run. He was too shocked to move. Shocked that he actually shot another man. Scared shitless that he may have killed another man. Never did it even cross his mind, though, that it might not be jail in his future but a coffin.

Randy charged the blond, slamming him up against the window. He was snarling, his eyes clouded with rage while his left arm cut off the kid's airflow and his right hand balled into a tight fist. His whole body practically heaving with the sudden hatred he felt for this man.

"You fucking bastard" Randy seethed through clenched teeth. The kid's hands were raised in front of him as if that was going to stop Randy from breaking every bone in his face, before he moved on to the rest of his body. His repeated mantra of sorry and please god, don't hurt me doing nothing to calm the storm brewing in the older man.

Fortunately, his common sense overpowered his caveman instincts and Mrs. Gabriel's voice cut through to him. An ambulance was on it's way.

He dropped the blond, ramming one of his steel toed boots into the kid's ribs before rushing over to John.

All the blood pooling around John's motionless body ripped his heart out. He took off his own shirt and balled it up so he could use it to apply pressure to the wound. He wasn't sure if it would help though. John was basically laying in a puddle of his own blood.

Little red and her mom were off to his left. Both of them sobbing and clinging to each other. Mrs. Gabriel's tears were soaking her husband's shirt as he looked on, a few wet streaks marring both his cheeks.

Randy soon felt his own vision blurring as the wailing of sirens became their background music.

John lay awake in his hospital bed, sleep somewhere off on strike it seemed. He stared out the window into a darkness that matched his current mood. His normally bright baby blues now a dull glassy shade of their former selves. The hot tears that streaked down his pale cheeks no longer caused by pain. More like the realization that life as he knew it was now over.

Oh sure, the newspapers would read, "John Cena: Hometown Hero". Their words would spin a glorious tale of how quickly he reacted in the face of danger. How he risked his own life in order to save the little red headed girl. How he played Superman, stopping a speeding bullet.

Only...he didn't use his chest and he didn't exactly walk away unscathed. In fact...he didn't walk away at all.

John took a deep breath, his bottom lip quivering a bit as he thought back over yesterday's events. What should have been an afternoon filled with fun, jokes and a whole lotta shit-talking with the family turned into a nightmare before the festivities could even begin.

One bittersweet homecoming for the champ.

He slowly raised the head of his bed, thanking god that he didn't have a noisy one cause he sure as hell didn't want to wake anyone. That would mean talking about what happened, what he'd been thinking at that time or about how he was feeling now. And to be perfectly honest, he felt like Randy right about now. The world could go fuck itself for all he cared.

The bullet hadn't touched his spinal cord exactly but it did shatter a few of his lower vertebrae. The bits of broken bone were what severed a few of the vital nerves leading to his lower half. The extent of the damage wasn't fully know yet. The doctors were optimistic that John would still have function below the waist to some degree. But if the present moment was any indication, John couldn't feel shit. His legs could send all the signals they wanted, his brain was not going to receive any of their messages.

He kind of felt sick to his stomach. Probably a mixture of that antiseptic smell, all the fucking meds they had him hyped up on and his own despair. Whether he had function to some degree or not didn't really matter. What was clear was that he'd never have all his function below the waist and that meant bye-bye to what he loved doing the most.

His room was filled with his family. An extra futon had been brought in since they all pretty much flat out refused to leave John's side until it was time for him to leave the hospital. Dan and Steve occupied one while Matt and Sean took the other one. His father was slumped over in the chair to his left, no doubt building a crook in his neck for him to complain about in the morning.

When he looked to his right, he'd expected Randy to be there but hadn't expected to be Randy's own private show. Hadn't expected a pair of steel blue eyes to be staring back at him so intently. Guess he hadn't been as quiet as he thought.

They played that old childhood game for a minute or two, neither one of them saying anything, just staring. Waiting for each other to blink or speak first. To break the spell.

Of course John didn't stand a chance against the viper. His whole gimmick depended on him being able to stare down and intimidate his victims. Scare them into submission or keep their eyes focused on his hypnotic gaze so they never saw the attack coming.

This time though, Randy was just openly staring. Never one to wear his heart on his sleeve, John could still tell that he was concerned. The slight crease in his forehead and the grim set to his mouth, saying more than Randy hoped.

John closed his eyes after a minute or so, admitting defeat. When he opened them a few seconds later, Randy had repositioned himself. His arms were resting on the bedside railing with his head resting on his arms. His features had soften a bit.

"And the champ lives." Randy joked quietly, trying to lighten the mood a little. "First a fucked up neck and now a bullet. I do believe your track record has officially become worse than mine, Mr. Cena"

John couldn't help the small smile that broke. Randy was always gonna be an asshole, no matter what the situation consisted of.

"Yeah well-" John croaked, throat still raw from the tube that was shoved down it until a couple of hours ago. He swallowed a few times trying to wet his throat enough to ask for some water but the younger man beat him to it.

Randy reached over and picked up the cup of water off the bedside table. He bent the straw and held the cup out to John, watching as his chapped lips closed around the red straw. His eyes then found John's adam's apple, watching as it bobbed up and down each time the older man swallowed.

When John had his fill, Randy set the cup back on the table, nodding at the whispered thanks. He turned back to John as the man struggled to make himself comfortable, legs offering him no cooperation whatsoever. He stood, reaching out to help but stopped short when John snapped at him.

"Don't!" It was a soft yet harsh command. "I can do it my damn self."

Randy held up his hands, showing he meant to harm. He completely understood the man's frustration. Sitting back down he continued to watch until John finally gave up, slamming his fists down onto the bed. A sweat had broken out on his brow.

"Bullshit, pure bullshit" John hissed, no longer caring if he woke everyone else. "If she hadn't screamed-"

"Siobhan" Randy interjected.

"Wha-"

"Little red. Her name is Siobhan." Randy informed him calmly. "They came to visit early this morning while you were still out of it." He explained at John's baffled look. "Riley, her mother, she couldn't stop thanking your father." Randy's smile was sad. "If you hadn't risked your life-"

"That's just it." John argued, face slowly turning red. "I didn't do anything extraordinary and that blond fuck just got a lucky shot off. You could tell he barely knew how to hold the damn gun let alone shoot it."

"Which made him all the more dangerous." Randy kept his tone low and soothing, trying his best to placate his irate lover without losing his own cool. "That bullet could have gone anywhere, John. It could have-" He cut off, refusing to imagine all that blood pooling around John's head instead of at his hips.

Randy sat back in his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. This was all too much, too close of a call for his liking. Even when John had messed up his neck, Randy couldn't remember feeling like this. He couldn't remember his life with John flashing before his eyes like that would be the last time he saw him alive. Couldn't remember the carefully erected walls surrounding his heart crumbling down. Hell, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd cried in front of someone who wasn't his mother or John.

Taking a second to compose himself, Randy let go of a heavy sigh. He looked back at John and for the first time in a long time, he couldn't read the expression written across the older man's face. Something about it though, tightened a few knots in his gut.

"The bullet could have gone elsewhere, but it didn't. There's a good chance you'll still have some control over your lower half and with therapy we can-"

"There's no we" It was just a whisper. So quiet, Randy wasn't quite sure he heard it in the first place. Leaning forward, he studied the side of John's face.

"I...I didn't hear you, or at least not correctly"

"There's. No. We." John spoke slower this time, putting a little extra emphasis on the last word. He could feel Randy's gaze boring into the side of his head but didn't turn to look at the younger man.

In his mind he had it all worked out. Randy was going to walk out on him in the end anyways, might as well get it over with now.

Randy cocked his head. What in the hell...

"Excuse me, but you can't be saying what I think your saying"

"Oh please, Randy." John looked up at him, not even bothering to cover up the uncertainty, the fear. "Just spare me, please. Save your pity, your sympathy or whatever the hell you wanna call it. We both know you won't be sticking around long."

Randy narrowed his eyes, his blood beginning to boil.

"Nope" He shook his head. "Didn't know that. Enlighten me some more, Johnny."

John let loose a mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. "You really want to stick around for the pity party that will become my life. Listen to me bitch and moan about therapy and about how un-fucking-fair life is. You really want to take on the responsibility to help me do even the most mundane things. Showering, getting dressed, hell I can't even going to the bathroom by myself anymore, Randy."

John closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek to stop the next sentence. It was right there, on the tip of his tongue. His biggest fear.

Screw someone having to take care of him, he was just afraid of Randy going out and finding someone else. Someone younger and better looking, someone not paralyzed from the waist down who could return his pleasure.

Sad and pathetic but not at all that far fetched in his mind.

"You really want to take care of me, cause I sure as hell don't wanna have to depend on you or anyone else for that matter."

Randy didn't say anything for the first few minutes. A silence settled in as he let John's words sink in, his mind filling in the blanks. Everything the other man was too scared to say or wasn't sure he had the right to say. John looked so fragile laying there, eyes closed, age clearly showing due to all the stress his body was under. His skin was just starting to regain it's color, no longer was he as white as Sheamus.

Randy leaned back over the railing, reaching out his left hand to caress John's. Careful not to disturb the I.V. He felt the man tense but continued his actions.

"John." He waited until his favorite baby blue's appeared.

"We've known each other for what, ten years? The last two of those on an intimate level. We've been through a hell of a lot together. Seen each other at our bests and our worsts. Probably wanted to take each others heads off on more than one occasion."

Neither could help cracking a small smirk.

"But your friendship and love mean everything to me, John. There is no way in hell I am going to abandon you when you need me most. No way in hell, I'm going to walk away and let you deal with this 'bullshit', as you so elegantly put it, on your own." It felt a little weird having the tables turned. Randy having to pacify John's temper and fears. Normally John was the one picking up the broken glass after Randy broke another car window. It was weird, but good weird.

"Your stuck with me, Johnny my boy. Plus," Randy paused licking his lips. "There's not another person alive I'd willingly submit to."

At Randy's words, John's eyes flickered. That good ol' ball of lust coiling itself, bringing about a heat he wasn't sure he really felt or if it was just his mind playing tricks on him. Better look into that later on, in the privacy of their own home. There had to be something out there to...help him if he no longer had control over that certain function. But his fears were allayed for now.

The light that had returned to John's eyes dimmed a bit as another problem pushed it's way back to the forefront of his mind. His career.

"I'll have to find something else to do, since wrestling is without a doubt out of the question." John sighed heavily.

Randy squeezed John's hand. He knew how much the older man loved what they did. The physical aspect of it, the performance, the fans. God knows they were going to have a tough road ahead of them, with John coming to terms with everything. Depression was probably going to be a constant in the near future for a little while, much to John's chagrin. But like Randy said, there was no way in hell he was going anywhere.

Vince and the guys already knew, most of them making plans to come visit John tomorrow. Randy had called them as soon as they arrived at the hospital. Well okay, after he finished threatening bodily harm to the nurses and doctor's alike, even though he knew ultimately they could only do so much.

Somehow the fans would have to be told, but right now Randy wasn't going to think about that or let John worry. Vince promised he would handle everything on that end of the court so could take each day, one at a time. Problems and complications, the same way.

"Yeah, that or you could play the perfect housewife." Randy smirked, ignoring John's outraged look. "I'm sure you'll adapt enough to have dinner waiting for me when I get home after working so hard. Along with a hot bath and a kiss at the door."

"Fuck you" John laughed. The sound music to Randy's ears as he joined in, those dimples a sight he never knew he loved so much.

"Just offering an option."

John just shook his head, continuing to laugh. No, his life would never be the same again but Randy always would be. And believe it or not, that really was a good thing.

"You two through with the mushy talk, yet"

Sean's voice had them both whipping their heads in the direction of the futon's, finding all four of John's brothers awake and cheesing like they knew the biggest secret.

"Yeah, I seriously thought I was going to throw up listening to the two of you." Matt quipped.

John and Randy both flipped them the bird, lowering the room's maturity level even more.

"Hey now boys, calm down." John Sr. grunted in his sleep, causing them all to explode with laughter. Though they tried their best to stifle it.

Randy cocked a questioning brow, but Dan shook his head smiling.

"Welcome to the family, Randy."

"Yeah." John echoed his older brother, grinning. He squeezed Randy's hand once. "Welcome."