Warning: Language, Violence, Abuse, Non consensual, Slash. So if you're not interested in any of those things, I suggest you hit the back button.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the men in this story. Nor do I own the lyrics or title used. Those are rightfully owned by Rihanna and her song of the same title from her album Rated R.
Author's Note: I'm really not sure where this story came from. I was listening to the song, and the next thing I know I was writing this out without even thinking about it. Well, it's definitely not like any of my other work I guess. I made John Cena the bad guy! LOL. Yeah, I see through his good guy charade. So if you don't think you can handle a 'dark' Cena, then yeah, this story is definitely not for you.
Enjoy!
"Take a breath, take it deep
Calm yourself, he says to me
If you play, you play for keeps
Take the gun, and count to three
I'm sweating now, moving slow
No time to think, my turn to go"
Phil loved the darkness, embraced it actually. Not the darkness you got when you turned out the lights at night, but the darkness from unconsciousness. If he had the choice of just staying there forever he would because it was a lot better than going through the pain that he was constantly feeling. In that darkness, he couldn't hear the yelling, and the screaming. The verbal abuse had gotten so bad that he was actually starting to believe the things that he was saying were true. He had never been one to doubt himself, but once when he got into this unhealthy relationship, he started to become a little less confident.
And if he thought the verbal abuse was bad, the physical was the absolute worst. No matter how many kicks, slaps, or punches he took, he could never get use to them. That's why when the darkness came – because it always did eventually – he welcomed it with open arms, just to numb himself of the searing pain.
Though both of those were pretty bad for him, what actually hurt the most was the fact that the person who was suppose to love him was the one hurting him like this. And he was allowing it like it was okay, when it clearly wasn't.
It was nights like these that made him feel like he was just a little bit masochistic because no matter how bad the beatings got, he stayed. For whatever reason, he was still here after two years of torture.
No, he wasn't masochistic; he wasn't sick in the head. There was nothing wrong with him except the fact that he was in love. Unconditionally, and irrevocably in love with him, and no matter what he did there wasn't anything that could change that. That made him feel weak, like he had to settle with what he had because it was as good as it's gonna get. Maybe it was.
Annoyed with his thoughts he closed his eyes, and tried to fall back into the waiting darkness.
"No! Wait! Baby, I'm sorry..." He pleaded with his all as he continued to back up towards the door. His back was flesh up against it, but he knew if he turned his back to leave, it would be the biggest mistake of his life. His heart was beating out of control inside of his chest as he watched his boyfriend slowly start to advance towards him, trapping him between his body, and the door. The dark look in his eyes made him cringe in fear as the expected punch was delivered to his face. The blow knocked his head hard against the door, blurring his vision slightly, the tears that he had been holding back streaming freely down his cheeks now.
"I fucking saw you with him!" He yelled, wrapping his hand tightly around his throat. "And don't you try denying it! Tell me! What were you two doing, hmm?"
He was starting to become light headed, and his lack of oxygen was making it hard to reply. So he just stood there, turning a deep shade of red, and gasping for air.
"Answer me!" He spat viciously as his grip tightened almost to the point of suffocation.
He knew he had to do something before he killed him. But their current position made it difficult for him to do anything, but stand there and accept it. His lack of response only angered the other man more, and he growled, punching him again.
He slid down the door onto the floor as he started to fade into that darkness that he had been waiting on. It was just in time because now his body was being used as a punching bag. It didn't matter though, he couldn't feel any one of them, couldn't hear the insults.
He had already succumbed into his new found home.
Phil opened his eyes, and curled into himself more when he heard the door to his room open.
"You okay?"
That wasn't his voice. Where was he then?
He looked up at the door to see Jeff standing there nervously, holding a bag in his hand. He slowly sat up from his place on the bed that he didn't remember getting on. Last he remembered, he was on the floor of his, and John's room. The more he looked around, he started to realize that this wasn't their room, it was Jeff's.
"How...how did I g-get here?" He stuttered out softly, his throat felt incredibly raw, and dry.
Jeff gave him a bottle of water out of the mini fridge, that he declined. "Phil, drink it. It'll make your throat feel a little better."
Phil hated how everyone felt that they could boss him around. He huffed stubbornly, and shook his head.
Jeff sighed, and sat on the bed beside him causing the younger man to hurriedly back away from him in fear. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you..." He placed a hand on his shoulder, and Phil screamed.
"No!" He tensed, and smacked Jeff's hand away, afraid that he was going to hit him. "No, no, no, no, no!"
Jeff didn't know what to do, he didn't want to frighten him anymore than he already was by touching him. So he tried soothing him. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you, Phil. I promise."
"Bullshit! He said the same thing, too!"
Jeff furrowed his brows in confusion. "Who?"
Phil shook his head, teething his bottom lip when he realized he had slipped up. "No one."
"No, Phil who's been hurting you?" His anger evident in every word he spoke.
He tried changing the subject back to his unanswered question from earlier. "How did I get here? Where's John?"
"Don't try to change the subject." He scowled.
"Please..." And his voice was so small, and broken that Jeff couldn't help but cave in.
"I heard a bunch of noise, and got curious so I went to see what it was about. When I got there, you were just laying there on the ground, and John said that he had just walked in, and found you like that. Says you might've been trying to kill yourself." He stopped, the thought breaking his heart. The sight of him on the ground so lifeless was something that was always going to be with him. He took a deep breath before continuing. "Then he just left, didn't say where he was going or anything. So I picked you up, and brought you to my room."
Phil laughed, a dark, soul less laugh as he thought over what he had just heard. It was so like John to try, and play innocent, and make him seem like the one with the problems. John Cena wasn't the hero that he fooled everyone into believing that he was. He was a sick, diabolical man. Unfortunately Phil was the only one who saw him as he really was...a monster. "Really? And you believed him that easily?"
"What do you mean?"
"The blood, Jeff! What the fuck, I didn't beat myself up like this!" Phil yelled, flaring his arms around. "He'll tell you whatever he needs to to make you believe him."
Jeff got a good look at his face, and saw the bruises that covered it, and the dried blood under his nose. How he managed to miss all of that, he will never know, but now he was more than a little confused. "Phil, I don't understand. Just calm down, and explain everything to me." He scooted closer to him, but found that that was a mistake when he jumped up, and off of the bed completely.
"Don't...just, don't." He tried to calm himself before he had some sort of panic attack. He sat on the floor, knees pulled up to his chest. He started nervously playing with his lip ring with his hand as he tried to think of the right words. "John isn't as nice as everyone may think he is. It's all a huge front. Actually, he's a diabolical, sick, twisted, perverse, monster! He enjoys watching people squirm in fear, and using that against them to his advantage. He's so....he's so..." He couldn't continue, he'd already said too much.
"He's so what? Please, I really wanna help you."
Phil suddenly snapped. Help? He didn't need any help because he wasn't the one with the problem. "Why don't you go help him? He's the one who really needs it! Or maybe you're just saying this so you can go back, and tell him and I'll receive the worst beating of my life!"
Jeff blinked a few times. He couldn't have heard right. There was no way, John wouldn't lay a finger on anyone in such a violent manner. He wasn't one to get physical. "He...he beats you? How?"
"How? What the fuck do you mean how?! He takes his fists, or whatever is in his hand, and hits me until I can barely move that's how!"
"I mean, you're a grown man letting another grown man abuse you. You can fight him off can't you?"
Phil was outraged by his question, body shaking from his anger. So Jeff thought he was weak for not fighting back? Great, just fucking great. "You try fighting him off then you bastard! And I tried that once, I ended up with three broken ribs."
Jeff remembered that, Phil had told everyone it had happened in a match. Things just weren't adding up now. Why was John abusing him, and why had he lied about how he received his injury? Just when he thought he couldn't get anymore confused. Phil sighed heavily, but didn't continue. Jeff was still at a lost for words so they just sat there in silence for a few minutes.
Suddenly Phil's light cry echoed throughout the room, sending chills down Jeff's spine. He sounded so helpless, and broken. He looked even worse than that. His usually fit, and nicely toned body was now nothing but mere skin and bones. He looked as if he hadn't eaten in months. There were bruises, cuts, and what appeared to be burn marks covering his face, and arms, then everything started falling into place right in front of him.
"I'll kill him!" He growled, seeing red. "He won't get away with this!"
Phil sniffled, and quickly wiped the tears from his face even though doing so hurt because all of the fresh bruises. "Please, don't. I've dealt with this on my own for two years." He practically pleaded. "Besides if he finds out that someone knows he'll...well I really don't wanna think about what he'd do to me then."
"Why are you still with him? You don't deserve to be treated like this."
"I love him, Jeff. As stupid as that sounds, I really do. I can't just give up cause things get a little rocky." He whispered, talking more to himself than to Jeff.
"You're risking your life the longer you stay in this relationship. He could kill you Phil. Do you understand that? I won't let you keep doing this. I refuse to just sit by, and let this keep happening."
"It's not your fucking choice!" Phil stood from the floor. "Just pretend I never said anything, and drop it." He turned, and walked towards the door.
Jeff jumped up, and grabbed his wrist before he could leave. "You can't go back to him, don't. You're my best friend, and I'm sorry I didn't see this earlier, but now that I know I just can't let it continue."
Phil flinched, and tensed up, his mind shutting down the moment he had grabbed his wrist. His breathing increasing slightly as he went into panic mode. He was going to hurt him, he just knew it. He didn't hear a word he said, focusing solely on trying to control his breathing.
Jeff let him go quickly when he realized that he had frightened him. He forgot he was sensitive to touches. "I'm sorry..."
Phil ran out of the room as soon as he was free, never hearing his apology.
He reached his, and John's room and walked in cautiously. The light was on in the bathroom, and he could hear the water running from the shower. He didn't have the energy to face John anymore tonight so he just laid in the extra twin bed, and stared at the wall facing away from the bathroom door, and the other bed that John would hopefully be sleeping in tonight. He finally fell into a restless sleep after a few minutes only to be awaken by a rough shove on his shoulder.
He awoke alert, and rolled over to see John standing on the side of the bed, glaring at him. He only had a towel wrapped around his waist, and he was still wet from his shower. This wasn't a good sign for Phil, not a good sign at all. "Where did you go?"
"Jeff took me back to his room when you left." Phil avoided looking at him as he spoke, an uncontrollable habit that he picked up on that really pissed John off.
"Really? And what did you two do, Philly? Hmm?" He questioned suspiciously.
"N-nothing. We just talked." He sat up, knowing now there was no way he was going to sleep anytime soon.
"Don't lie to me you slut! I told you about lying to me! You two fucked didn't you?" He pushed Phil back down on the bed, and laid over him, putting all of his weight down on the smaller man.
"John, please. We didn't do anything like that..." He was cut off by a sharp slap to his face. He saw the look in his eyes, it was dark, and possessive. He knew what he had in mind. As soon as he felt him start to literally tear the shirt off of his body, he started squirming, trying to get from under him. "No..."
John laughed, clearly amused. "No? You're telling me no?" He got the shirt off of the smaller man, and tossed it to the floor. He went to work on his pants next. Phil kicked his legs in a struggle, but quickly stopped when he saw the death glare John was giving him. "You know better than to fight me, Phil. It only makes it worse for you." He said, voice cold and aggressive. He pulled his sweats down to his ankles, and spread his thighs.
Phil just lay there, stilling his body. He should be use to this by now, it happened frequently somewhat like a routine. It seemed like everyday John would get jealous over seeing him talking to another guy, and he would just automatically jump to the conclusion that Phil was having an affair. He loved John too much to ever cheat on him, but he never believed him when he told him that.
"Ow!" Phil yelled at the combination of being roughly entered, and John's hard biting on his neck. The tears started streaming down his face at the excruciating pain. He hated this. He didn't deserve to be raped by his own boyfriend, he deserved to be made love to, and treated right. It wasn't suppose to hurt like this.
John sped up the pace of his thrusts, slamming his body almost painfully against Phil's. "Always so fucking tight for me, baby." He grunted out, placing deep bite marks on his neck, and chest.
Phil closed his eyes, it hurt more than usual tonight, and he couldn't take it. Just as he was about to fade into the darkness, John grabbed his face roughly.
"Look at me."
He really wanted to follow his command, but the darkness was pulling him in more, and more. He wasn't sure if he could open his eyes, not even if he wanted to.
"You're risking your life the longer you stay in this relationship. He could kill you Phil."
"Look at me!" He heard him growl out again as he continued snapping his hips roughly against his.
"He could kill you Phil."
He felt the hand grip his throat, and his eyes shot open. He sat up, pushing a startled John off of him. He quickly pulled up his pants, and ran out of the room before John could even comprehend what happened.
As he ran down the hall, he kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure John wasn't following him. He then ran into someone, knocking them both down to the ground. Phil began to panic, and tried to stand, but was instead wrapped into a pair of warm arms. He twisted, and fought, trying to get loose.
"Shh, Phil, it's okay. It's just me." Jeff said soothingly.
Phil didn't care who it was, he didn't want to be out in this hallway where John could easily find him. "Please, can we go somewhere else. I did something stupid, and if John finds me..." He couldn't finish that thought.
Jeff nodded, and stood with Phil still in his arms, and guided him to his room. Once inside, Phil wiggled free of Jeff's grip, and sat on the bed. "I don't know what to do. I don't think I've ever been so scared before in my life."
He spotted the bites, and bruises on his neck, and bare chest. This made him feel protective, and he sat beside him on the bed leaving just enough space between them as to not worry him. "Stay here with me."
Phil shook his head, staring intensely at the door as if John were going to come through it at any moment. "I can't drag you into this, Jeff."
"I told you, now that I know, I'm not letting you go back to him. I...I refuse. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if anything happened to you." He ran a hand through his multi-colored hair, and sighed deeply. "Stay here tonight, please. I just need to know that you're safe."
Phil gave in. He was extremely tired, and he felt weak and really all he wanted to do was go to sleep. "Okay." He looked around, and noticed that they were sitting on the only bed in the room. "Umm..."
"You take the bed. I'll sleep in a chair."
Phil started to protest. "Oh, Jeff you really don't have to..."
Jeff shook his head, silencing him. "It's alright. How about you get some sleep now." He got off of the bed, and sat in the chair at the desk.
Phil reluctantly laid underneath the covers, and surprisingly he fell asleep rather quickly this time. For some reason, he felt safe here.
Jeff waited, and watched Phil sleep for awhile before falling to sleep himself.
An hour later he was awaken to the sound of Phil's screams. Jeff jumped out of his chair, and ran over to him. The man appeared to still be sleeping, but he was thrashing about violently, sweating, and screaming at the top of his lungs for someone to stop hurting him.
Jeff gathered him into his arms, and held him. He whispered soothing, calming words as he gently rocked him. Phil continued to scream, and thrash for a little more than an hour without waking up before finally subsiding in Jeff's arms. His chest heaving erratically as he tried to control his breathing, soon he was back to a somewhat peaceful sleep.
Jeff didn't go back to sleep, he couldn't. What he had just witnessed disturbed him more than anything he'd ever seen before. For him to not wake up was a hint that this was something he was use to. He was going to make John pay for doing this to him no matter what it took.
John sat on the floor, back against the bed as he stared at the picture of Phil in his hands. He then looked up at the door when he heard Phil's scream coming from the end of the hall. He knew exactly where his little lover was, and if he wanted to he could go retrieve him right now without a problem. And he really wanted to, but this was the first time Phil had ever been stupid enough to walk out on him like that. He had to make sure that this would be the last time too.
An evil grin crossed his face as his terrified screams became louder, and he crumpled the picture in his hands. He refused to let someone else have his Philly. He was his, and no one elses. And if that damn Hardy thought by 'saving' him was going to get him, he was in for a rude awakening. Phil would come back to him whether he wanted to or not because he knew his place in their relationship, and if he forgot John would break him, hurt him more than humanly possible to get him to remember. Because John wasn't big on sharing what was his, and would not tolerate anyone even thinking about trying to take Phil away from him.
He had his plan, everything else would fall into place.
"And you can see my heart beating
You can see it through my chest
Said I'm terrified but I'm not leaving
Know that I must must pass this test
So just pull the trigger..."
-The End-
So there you have it. I feed off of reviews so please leave me some. Oh, and as of now I don't think there will be more to this (yeah, I'm evil like that. hehehe) or maybe your reviews can convince me otherwise. Hmmm...
