Fandom: WWE Slash

Pairing: Wade Barrett / John Cena (ergo JADE)

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I do not own either John nor Wade (sad) or the WWE - this is all made up.

Summary: When Vince calls Wade for help, Wade has no idea what awaits him. Something's wrong with Cena, but how should Wade help him?
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In your darkest night

Wade stared incredulously at his vibrating cell phone, seeing the name of the caller on the display - "Vince McMahon". He did not know if this was a bad joke, an emergency or just a bad dream - but he suspected that he better answered the phone.

"Stuart Bennett," he said as he picked up the phone. His deep, masculine voice boomed through the tour bus, in which he was traveling alone now. The Corre were history, and he now had the privilege of driving in a bus only for himself.

"Hi Stu, how are you doing," Vince's loud voice roared through the line with its usual smoky tone. Before Wade could answer, the WWE boss spoke on.

"Look, Stu, I've got a problem, and I think you're the man who can help me," A short pause followed, and Wade took the chance to say "Sure, what's up," - he wasn't about to deny Vince anything. It happened as good as never that Vince asked someone for help and you did well to put everything possible in motion.

"So, it comes to Cena, you know. We've got some trouble with him, that's been ongoing for a week or two. And I'm starting to worry, slowly but surely. The guy decided to eat practically nothing. I know not whether he sleeps at all. He just looks like shit and I can not let him be seen on television like that. We must raise his morale again, but no one knows what's going on with him. Why he's breaking down all at once ... Well, and I thought if he doesn't listen to any of his friends, then I'll ask one of his enemies. Perhaps he will be more reasonable if you talk a bit with him. Maybe there's still a spark of pride in him and he will be more... manfully. Would you do me a favor and just look in on him? "

Wade's hands were sweaty, his heart began to race as soon as Cena's name was mentioned. That John felt bad left a stinging pain in Wade's mind, created a queasy feeling in his stomach. He wished he could immediately run to him to help him, be there for him ... His throat corded up with pain, horror images swirled before his eyes, into which tears climbed. His fingers were trembling, held the phone, clutching it desperately.

"Well, of course," he replied huskily. He took a note of the hotel address Vince spelt. His boss thanked him and hung up. While the bus changed his route and drove toward Cena, Wade looked out of the bus window absentmindedly for a long time. Somewhere out there was John, andhe felt bad - as it seemed, no one could help him, nobody knew what his problem was.

Wade was well aware of how men could be in general. Often lone wolves who wanted to cope alone with their thoughts and pain, which didn't want to need anybody. But this time it was probably something else, a bigger problem ... Again and again Wade tried to persuade himself to remain calm, not to worry too much. The hours to the hotel turned out to be psychological torture that he could not escape from. Desperately he tried to numb himself with sleep, but even half asleep, he thought of Cena ...

It seemed like years, that he had last seen the elder. Although RAW and Smackdown were combined from time to time for special events, he met John certainly less than before. He missed Cena since he had left Raw. Something was missing in his life, even if it simply was the daily sight of the wrestler, who could raise his heart for a few moments. His eyes that were always sparkling with vitality and enthusiasm, so that Wade was able to forget all his worries and problems for a few hours. It was hard to imagine that someone like John could feel seriously bad ... He had always delighted and motivated all others...What the hell was wrong with him, had happened to him?

When he finally arrived at the hotel hours later, he was greeted warmly at the reception. Cena's Bodyguard - a big, burly black man who had a nasty look - sighed of relief when he saw Wade.

"Thank God you're here! We are really desperate. Never, NEVER have I seen that John let himself go like this... Well, come with me, then you will see what I mean" he bubbled forth, as Wade breathlessly followed him up the stairs. "The elevators are broken, you know, am happy when I'm out of this hotel, the sheer horror, I tell you," the black continued his tirade.

They came to a carpeted, wide hallway, and finally stood before a closed hotel room. Energetically the bodyguard knocked at the door and shouted "John, visit for you!". He rummaged in his coat pocket, withdrew a key and unlocked the door, opened it with an inviting movement for Wade.

Immediately he saw John in front of him lying on the bed. He lay on his side and looked at them directly. Wade was shocked by the appearance of the American, he had changed so much in so little time. Deep circles under the eyes darkened his pale face, his cheeks were very sunken. Everything about him was thin, his hands, his arms, his upper body ... Wade looked at him sympathetically and hauntingly ..

"What's he doing here? I told you, I don't want to see anyone," Cena grumbled while he looked at his bodyguard sharply. It probably didn't matter to him what Wade was thinking of the way he spoke, the way he looked like. Wade felt a little uncomfortable – he didn't want to be here if John wanted to be left alone.

"Can't do anything against it John," the Black defended himself with a shrug. "A personally command from above, from Vince. Says he's had enough of your mind games."

Tears welled up in John's face that was contorted with rage - it was obvious that he was on the verge of lashing out and yelling at his bodyguard. With great effort, he restrained himself, pressed the next words out with hate. "Get out of my eyes, Dan, if you think, I want to feel like crap. That you can also tell Vince, this stupid wanker. "

Wade was startled by the sound he heard in John's voice - goose bumps spread across his body and he actually felt a touch of fear rising in him. Dan shrugged his shoulders again, only muttered to Wade, "Have fun" and then closed the door behind himself. Wade, with furrowed brow, wondered what the hell he was going to do next.

John meanwhile was crying uncontrollably, his face buried in the pillow to which he clung desperately. "And you can fuck off too!" He shouted through the cushion to Wade. Wade had to smile despite everything. What Vince didn't know was that he had always liked Cena - although they had never been best friends, they had also never really been enemies.

"John, Vince wants me to help you," Wade said softly and walked a few steps towards the bed. Although he did not even know how to help John, he had to try at least. The American looked quite emaciated and sickly, weak, in spite of his muscular physique.

"I don't need your help. I can manage, thank you," John snapped. His body tensed up with anger, his shoulders tensed, presented his strong back.

"And look how well that panned out...", Wade said. This made its impact. John paused for a moment, you could literally feel the thoughts rushing through his head and fighting with each other. After an eternity, he half turned his head and looked into Wade's eyes for a long time, as if he was searching for confidence in them.

"Sit down," he finally said softly, and Wade took a seat next to him on the bed. Wade nervously kneaded his hands together, trying to calm his nerves. The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, his heart beat faster, like his breathing, while he inhaled John's perfume, felt his body heat so close to his skin ... John turned on his back and looked briefly to Wade, and then he closed his eyes again. Wade looked longingly at his face, his sunken cheeks, the three-day stubble, the dark circles, that little worry lines on his forehead. Still the cried tears shone on John's cheeks.

Without thinking or hesitating for long Wade felt his right hand shot forward and his fingers tenderly wiped the tears from Cena's face. John opened his eyes and looked frightened back for so long and so penetrably, that Wade thought his heart would be on fire out of sheer love for the elder. These eyes were like lightning, which struck him, like ice and fire at the same time, and he sank into the deep blue of those pupils, thought of the sea, of a rainy sky, fast-flowing rivers. He felt every one of John's quiet breaths, could see every hair, feel every movement.

"What troubles you John?" He asked gently, letting his hand rest on Cena's cool cheek. Annoyed, Cena rolled his eyes, turned away from Wade and stared out of the window.

"Who cares! Why should I tell you this? Thousand people have already asked me. Why does no one figure that I don't want to talk about it? Why should I tell youeverything then?", he muttered to himself.

Wade's eyes flashed again and again over Cena's frail body. He looked so weak and in need of help, very emaciated, starved, and as if he had suffered greatly in the past few days because of his thoughts and feelings. Wade bit his lower lip and stifled the urge to take John into his arms and hold him firmly until he felt better.

"Maybe ... because it really interests me. Because I do not see you as a media object, that has to function ... I see that you feel bad ... I want you to feel good, no one can watch how you torment yourself...", Wade replied and noticed how his cheeks reddened. Had he been too obvious now? Had he disclosed too much? Cena smiled shyly and Wade watched as tears welled in his eyes. He wanted to hide it though, but he could not hide the emotion in his words.

"Th-that's nice of you, Stu," he smiled and suddenly his voice was very soft and warm. Wade realized how he virtually evaporated because his face was a sheer blush. Carefully, the black-haired groped on the blanket for John's hand and grabbed it, held it gently in his. He watched as John's fingers entangled his. Cena closed his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"All right.. There's really not much to tell," he began with a quiet voice. "I just see no sense in what I'm doing... what I stand for ... either publicly or privately ... It all goes to pieces, I just wish I would no longer exist, that I could escape the hustle and bustle ... I do not want to be in my life any longer, I simply had enough of everything ... and then I woke up one morning and thought of all this - and I'm feeling like this for months or so - and then I just had no desire to eat something. And ... I still don't feel the urge to eat something. I ... oh I do not know, I can't stand it any longer... I don't want to ...", John finally whispered exhausted, and his voice began to tremble, tears ran down his face again and wetted the cushion with moisture.

Wade's heart contracted with pain - he felt so much compassion and sympathy for John, he could not bear seeing him suffer like this. If he could only conjure away all the pain, of only there was a way for John to regain his will to live again ... It seemed as if the Americans stuck in a deep sense of crisis, a depression from which he could not escape. Maybe he needed professional help, and Wade was completely out of place here. While Wade was thinking all these things John's body began to shake violenty with sobs. The American had arrived at the end of his tether.

Wade took a brave decision – he did not care how John would react, he had to comfort him, he could no longer look at this misery. Slowly he settled behind John, put his arm around him and held him, hugged him. At first he felt how John tensed but then relaxed, letting himself lean back against the warm chest and suddenly he was very quiet. Wade's hand was on John's chest, his arm was protectively wrapped around the American. His lips almost touched John's neck, his nose longingly and eagerly inhaled the scent of Cena's warm, soft skin. John tenderly placed his hand on Wade's, Wade's snuggled up to him.

"I'm sorry you feel bad, John," Wade whispered against Cena's neck, kissed it gently. "And even if nobody can help you ... I'm here, I'm here for you. And I will stay here if you ever need me. "

The Englishman noticed a tremor running through Cena's body, matching Wade's rapid heartbeat. He could not believe that he had found the courage to do all these things, to say those words. For so long they had been on his tongue, written all over his heart, bothered his mind day and night. How long had he wished to hold the American in his arms and to proclaim him from his love? His toes tingled with foolish ease, his stomach tingled with frenzy.

"You have to stay with me, Stu ... I need you ...", John whispered timidly, as if he were afraid to reveal too much about his inner life.

"Always ... Say one word and I'll do whatever you wish," he whispered back softly. A short pause followed, and the silence rang in their ears. Outside the dusk was falling, the last rays of light colored the clouds in the sky with purple gray tones. John noticed how he slowly fell asleep. Wrapped up in Wade's warm, strong body, protected and safe from all evil thoughts, worries, plagues, remorse. In these arms no danger, no pain would befall him.

He noted with violent palpitation that Wade's lips gently covered his neck time and again with little kisses. A contented, soothing sigh escaped his mouth, burnt with its desire into Wade's heart, and nourished him with happiness.

"I would do anything for you ...", Wad whispered lovingly into John's ear, whereupon the elder smiled. It felt strange to suddenly feel so good again ... Free from worry ... Relieved Cena finally fell asleep in Wade's arms, and he slept so long and so restful for the first time in a long while.