Angsty thoughts and cursing from Randy here. This is rated for bad words. It's a side along to Regret and I'm thinking of writing at least one more for this.

I don't own Randy Orton, John Cena, or anyone else mentioned here…

There were moments when Randy really wished that he was single again. He really, really didn't need Dave with him. He could sleep and puke his guts into the trashcan beside his bed on his own. And, eh, maybe that wasn't fair since the man was just trying to help but nobody had ever had a problem telling him he was an asshole before. If he'd had the energy, he might have told Dave to leave even though he knew that was an asshole move.

He really didn't like the look in Dave's eyes, though. Maybe he was an asshole but he didn't like leading people on and he was pretty sure he'd made it clear that they weren't going past casual. In fact, Randy didn't really have plans of ever going past casual again. He'd been fucked over too many times for that.

The really fucked up part was that the night before when he'd been sore and feverish and just generally feeling like he'd been hit by a car, he'd almost…almost asked John to stay. To say that was a bad idea was a massive understatement.

Apparently, he was a very good actor outside of the ring because John truly believed that he was over what happened between them and that he had moved on.

He'd had the thought on more than one occasion that he had to be a masochist because he and John were still friends and that was really only torture sometimes. Instead of moving on and forgetting it like he was supposed to, what he felt for John only grew.

He probably wouldn't have gotten sick in the first place if he had been able to move on. Insomnia was a bitch. He'd had that for a while.

He wanted to be pissed at John. That would make it easier but he really couldn't be. Not when all John did was be honest with him. He'd always prided himself on his own ability to both be honest himself and take the truth from another person. That was bullshit, at least when it came to John.

He'd told himself that he could take it and that he'd never kept something like that from anyone so he'd spilled his guts to John about how he'd really felt when they were together and when John had said that he didn't feel the same way, he'd sure pretended that he could take that and move on.

It hadn't taken him long to realize after the fact that, really, he was fucked without John.

People did it all the time. Moved on to someone new, loved someone and been fine after it fell apart. He should have been fine after so long but he wasn't.

He'd never felt the way he did about John with anyone else. He couldn't move on. He couldn't get past it at and he wasn't himself without John. He was fucked. End of story.