A/N: So this is completely different from what I write. As in I never write Centon. But good friend of mine, One Slashburd, suggested that if I felt as if I were in a rut to try a pairing I've never written before. And the chorus from Skillet's "Hero" was in my brain and out popped Centon. It's not long, and I'm pretty sure I've managed to throw dust in Centon's eyes, but I do promise it wasn't intentional. So if it's ooc for those two I apologize.
As always, I dont' own, I have little money, so if you sue all you're going to get is the rights my Call Center job for Verizon Fios.
The voices were getting stronger; the lust for violence eating away at him bit by bit until it didn't matter where he lashed out, be it in the ring or outside on his own time. Every time he looked in the mirror he seemed aged; his silver eyes dulled by madness or drink until they seemed to be just lifeless marbles in a waxy visage. Cody and Ted had abandoned him like rats from a sinking ship, leaving him him the victim of his own mind and sick thoughts.
As if everyone around him could read his roiling thoughts they shied away; low whispers following him down corridors and wrapping, tapping at his mind until he felt as if he was choking and raw, painful screams wrenched themselves from his throat and lips. Nights held their own horrors and he dreaded the screaming and self hating words that flung themselves carelessly behind his eye lids until he woke up drenched in sweat with sheets practically ripped to shreds from his night tremors.
On such just a night he found himself outside, unknowningly eaves dropping on Wight as he checked up on his touring lover and wincing as he passed Helmsley arguing with his own; growled commands ringing in the air as he threw his weight around. He quickened his steps, the bindings of his chosen life feeling even tighter wrapped than before and making him gulp in lungfuls of air as he looked wildly about for some means of escape.
Dead a head of him sparkled the hotel pool; the stars and moon glittering on and dancing on the surface as the wind caused lazy ripples. Without a second thought he flung himself into the water; gasping as the cold water hit his skin like needles and causing his mouth to fill with water as the air in his lungs escaped in large bubbles. His body fought to push himself upwards but he ignored it; his eyes closed as he welcomed his impending death with open arms.
Finally his limbs felt heavy and he managed to get his open, looking up to watch the stars and moon through the moving water and entranced by the way the water made them move and gyrate as blackness moved in on his vision until every thing was blacked out. Suddenly he felt himself being lifted; drug upwards and to his befuddled and slowly shutting down mind he was leaving behind the mortal coil of his infected left for the perfection of beyond.
He gasped as his head broke free of the silver water and before he could respond in any way shape or form he was hauled from his would be watery grave and laid flat on his back on the rough concrete. Hands flattened on his abdomen and were thrust sharply into him three times before warm lips covered his and puffed air into his mouth and down into his lungs. The hands once more pressed hard on his stomach and soon he felt the burning chlorine water come rushing up his throat to spew over his chest as he hacked and gagged. He was soon turned over onto his side with his back being pounded repeatedly as more water cleared from his body; leaving him empty and shaking as curled into a fetal position.
His ears were buzzing loudly yet he could hear a low muttering behind him and when the spasms and dry heaving ceased he was eased back onto his back and his eyes blinked away the blurring from the burning water. Above him knelt the man that every one called the living Hero and he scowled as he scooted back just enough to put some distance between them.
"You just can't resist playing Super Man can you?" He croaked as he fought to keep the scowl on his lips to keep from crying at his ruined escape.
A dimpled smile greeted him with a wink.
"Not when the damsel is as grateful as you are."
The over top answer followed by the comical eyebrow waggle wrung an actual laugh from him as he was helped to his feet he pulled the larger man close and whispered in his ear.
"Thank you."
With a head nod and pat to his shoulder John walked and he snatched a forgotten towel and looked towards the heavens; thankful that for once some one had decided to ignore what they thought they knew and did what they knew was right. And that for once Hero had been close by to save him from his own worst enemy: himself. With a newly acquired 'spring' to his step he trailed the brawny blonde; the voices hissing darkly in the corners of his mind as he made the preemptive strike against any further mental warfare.
As he tumbled down into sleeps warm embrace that night, a true smile graced his lips and into the silence a sleepily uttered "Thank you" reached no one and someone important at the same time.