A/U: FINALLY! The Make Believe sequel is here! Geez, did I piss you guys off or what? I'm so sorry it took me so long, I had been thinking of ways to start it off, but none of those ideas seemed to fit. The first story was Sandra's struggle with Randy and his power over her, this story is about Sandra's struggle with a new power over her…PLEASE r&r? Let me know what you think of the first chapter, plus I'll be writing in the POV of Randy, Jake, and John more often in this story. :]

1

Three Months Later

Can't tell anyone…except Gemma…she knows. My family knows. Haven't had contact with Randy or Jake since the night I left Boston…almost 3 months ago.

Just so everything would stop. Everything did stop.

Except for the phone calls. Those didn't stop. I ignored and ignored them until I finally had to get my number changed. Mom and Dad turned them away at the door when they showed up at the house, several times. Gemma was the only one allowed over. Every once in awhile I get an e-mail from Jake…I don't answer him. But he knows I read them, 'cause he tells me everything that's going on in the business since I stopped traveling with them.

I want to tell him what's going on with me, but I can't. Only my family and Gemma know. Once in awhile I'll get a hand-written letter from Randy, begging me to reply or something. He says he misses me…I miss him too. I don't want to miss him; it's awful and disgusting that I do. After everything he did to me and put me through…and I still love him. I can't. Randy never told the media, though. He loves his job too much, that and he didn't want to put himself in prison. My father never told, obviously. Especially after he found out about the baby.

Every once in awhile Steph would take me to the mall to get me some new clothes, that was on the healthy days though, when I didn't have the morning sickness. Mom thought it was the air that was making me worse, so we stayed at our house in Santa Barbara for a few weeks, which did help. Eventually we had to come back to Greenwich for mom's job. The plane rides were okay, I'd often fall asleep so it didn't bother me much. Sometimes when Gemma was over I'd turn the TV on and watch a little bit of RAW, and I'd see Randy's face, and just start bawling. I'd also watch Smackdown too, and the same thing happened whenever I saw Jake.

I can't stand looking at John's face. First his new movie, then Hannah Montana, and now the Fred movie. That used to be my favorite YouTube show…now I can't even watch it without gagging. I still haven't forgiven myself. I did get one phone call from him, it was unknown and like an idiot I answered. He asked me how I was doing, and I lied and told him I was fantastic, then hung up. Childish, but I didn't want to talk to him.

I still have that one dream, but not as often as I used to. Randy still chases me through halls of the many arenas, and he still asks for "More". Then I wake up.

Like always/

"Sandra…psst! Wake up! How ya feelin' today?" Gemma asks, sitting in the wicker chair next to my bed. We're back at our house in Santa Barbara, which sits on a hill overlooking the beach and some of the city. It's smaller than our home in Greenwich. It's more "modern" looking, square and blocky, lots of large windows, lots of bright lights inside that you can dim, small wooden porch outside with metal railing, inside the walls are a tan marble, most of the furniture is either off-white or brown, the curtains for the windows and showers are a light green, and there are three bedrooms, and three bathrooms.

"What time is it?" I ask as I rub the sleep from my eyes.

"Six. Your mom wanted me to wake you up for your morning walk." She replies. I slide out of bed and zombie-walk to the bathroom. "You okay?" Gemma laughs as I bump into the shower door.

I giggle, "I'm fine."

I do my morning routine, then put my hair into a ponytail and put on a pair of white towel shorts, green babydoll top that covers the small yet noticeable bump, and a white zip up hoodie that's too big for me. "You coming?" I ask Gemma.

"Nah. I'm gonna cook you guys breakfast while you're out." I gag and she throws a pillow at me.

I meet my mom outside, where she's standing on the beach watching the water. The sun is barely up yet, so it's still kind of dark outside. Her hair isn't poofy/curly like it normally is back home, she doesn't have any make up on and she's wearing a white sweat suit with capris and no shoes, like me.

"How are you feeling today?" She asks.

"No urges to throw up." I reply as we start walking down the beach.

"Your check up is Wednesday at 8 am."

"Okay." I say and rub my belly.

"Thought of any names?" She asks.

"Not yet. I kind of want it to be a surprise…"

She smiles, "It's also better to be prepared, though."

At first when her and my dad found out that I was pregnant, they weren't too happy. Well, my mom was happy yet mad, and my dad was furious. Not at me, of course, just that I was going to have Randy Orton's baby. Or John Cena's. I still don't know, but it's a strong chance that it's Randy's, right?

In a way, I hope its Randy's. I feel like such a slut, sometimes…not knowing who the father of my baby is. Whoever it is, I will still love this baby, I will still care for it, and I will still raise it. Whether it is a product of rape or love, part of it still comes from me, and it IS me, and it will be loved by me.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Huh?"

"That look on your face, it's just like that look your father gets when he's thinking about something serious."

"Oh…just that…just that I still don't know who the father is…"

She pulls me in for a hug. "We can always do DNA testing."

"Can we? I'm sure Randy and John will do it…"

"I know they will."

I snuggle into her hug and sigh. "Thanks mom."

She hugs me tighter.