Disclaimer- I don't own anyone affiliated with the WWE or whom used to be.. I only own the ones that are people that don't really exist.
A/N- Well, Im tring to catch up guys. This story is so emotional I hope that all of you can make this journey with me. I had a friend take a break from her own writing, Texeljay.. to Beta this for me. I feel with the amount of emotions that are pouring through I need someone to keep me in line and make sure I don't go over board. Thanks Jay! I hope that you guys are still with me.. You are the ones that have made me the writer I am today. Enjoy
As always Please Review
Stacy

Chapter 4

Sitting down on the bed, I glance around the motel room. I had already called Marti's wife Beth and gave her the details of where I was. God bless her, I wanted to tell her what was going on as she questioned me. She kept referring back to the times while I was in training when she helped me. She mentioned the time that I had hurt my ankle in my match with John and she had agreed to come out to the house to help me with my therapy. I still couldn't get the words out. I sat and I listened, yet the words failed me.

She sounded so hurt. Talked to me about Mark and how he was upset over the fact that I had agreed to marry him, then ran off without a trace. She said that he cried on the phone with her. Told her that he didn't know what he had done, that he thought I was the one. That he had finally found the woman to help him enjoy the rest of his life. I had thought that too. I wanted to be the one. I wanted to live out the rest of my life in his arms, letting him cherish me and put me up on that pedestal that he had seemed to want to keep me on.

But it's done.

I made the choice to turn my back on all of that. On three years of living my life with him. Beside him. To save him the pain of what I was about to go through. To allow him to move on with his life and hopefully find someone even better than me. Someone that won't be sick, or won't run when things get tough.

Curling up in a ball, I have nothing left in me. No more tears, no more words. I get flashes of my happy life. Finally losing weight. Deciding to wrestle. My first match in front of an audience. Meeting Mark and the rest of the guys from the WWE. The friendships. Marti. My family… a coffin.

Jumping up from the bed, I feel the fear envelop me. I have to escape. To run. I don't want that. I can't be living out the rest of my life now. This cancer can't be real. Can it? Somewhere along the way they have misdiagnosed me. I feel fine. I'm not sick. I'm just me. Cheyenne.

Pacing the room, I search for answers in my mind. Answers that might help me cope with the fact that I don't feel strong enough to battle this disease. I can't lose my hair, my health… fade away into nothing. I am somebody, damn it! I am a living breathing human being that does not want to lose myself to something I don't have control over.

WHY? Why does this happen to people?

Swallowing down the scream lodged in my throat, I bring my hands to my hair and back myself into a corner. I feel so small, so helpless. The giant world around me is closing in.

Suddenly I see Marti out of the corner of my eye. Turning my face in his direction he is standing in the doorway, frozen. His arm outstretched, his face full of fear and questions. His bag is dangling from his fingertips. Do I look that bad?

Sliding down the wall, I close my eyes and let the scream go. What is happening to me? I can't breathe. I can't see through the tears. I hear a voice. I can feel warm arms surrounding me. I don't want it. I want to be ok. Swatting at them, I shake my head. I don't need it. In my mind I'm begging him to leave me alone again. Let me find my own way out of this.

Reaching out for him I wrap my arms around him tight. I feel my body leave the floor and then be placed down in his lap. I can't speak. I can't get myself together enough to make him understand what I need from him.

Clenching my eyes closed I let go. I let go of every emotion that is raging through my body, until I am a sagging heap in Marti's lap. I now have nothing left… But my best friend is with me now…

Opening my eyes, I have to blink at the onslaught of light coming in to the room. I can hear someone talking and I roll my body over to look in the direction that I hear their hushed voice. I can make out him saying something about not knowing and being at a loss.

Moaning I bring my hands up to my aching head. "It wasn't a dream then?" I ask him, my voice husky and deep from sleep and I can assume from the screaming I had done the night before.

The bed I'm lying on dips, and Marti is smoothing his hand over my hair. "No, baby girl, not a dream." He answers. I can hear his pain. Feel his distance from my own thoughts and my tears start all over again. "Shhh… Baby girl, I'm here now." I know he is trying to re-assure me but it doesn't help the hurt I feel inside.

"I have cancer, Marti." I blurt, tired of holding it in.

His hand stops mid stroke on my head, his body tenses enough to jerk the bed. Suddenly he moves in behind me. His arms wrapping around me. He doesn't say anything, cause what can he say to that? It was a harsh reality. My reality.

"I don't want to die." I tell him, wrapping my arms around his arms. "I don't want to be sick."

The back of my shirt becomes wet. His body is shaking behind me. This was not what I want. I need my rock. I need the Marti that could solve all of my problems and make all the bad stuff go away. But his arms hold me tight, comfort me enough to ease some of the pain. Knowing that someone else knows allows me to breath through the large lump that had decided to permanently lodge itself into my throat.

"I need your help." I plead. "I need you here with me."

"I'll be here. No matter what." His voice is shaking. His arms feel like they are trying to take away my pain.

Rolling over, I look up at him. "Thank you." I breath, knowing he would never break that promise to me.

"What… what kind of cancer is it?"

Looking up into his face, I see him struggling with the news. "I don't know yet." I tell him honestly. "They have taken more samples and blood from me so that they can try and pin point it."

"When will you hear something?" He asks trying to get some information.

"Dr. Rice says that he is going to put a rush on it. Hopefully no later than tomorrow. Only thing is, he can't get in touch with me now. I don't have a phone anymore."

"We can call his office and give them my number." He suggests, getting up from the bed and grabbing his phone. Handing it over to me, he looks at me expectantly.

Dropping the phone I sit up on the bed and wrap my arms around my knees. I don't want to know. If I don't know then it can't hurt me… Right?

"Cheyenne, you need to call… what if they already have the results back?"

Wiping at my wet face, I can't stop my thoughts from going back to Mark. To my lifelong dream of loving someone that loved me back just as much. "Is Mark… is he OK?" I ask, knowing it was either him or Beth that he was on the phone with.

Looking at the crumpled sheets on the bed, my mind wonders back to all the mornings we woke up in each other's arms. The wrinkles around his eyes when he would smile down at me and run a finger over my face. He was always the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes. I missed it already. Even after I signed on with the WWE, we always traveled together. From that first night we made love until yesterday, we were never apart from each other for long. It was like I needed him almost as much as I needed air to breathe. And apparently I still did.

Marti sits down next to me on the bed, his hand covering my one of my knees. "He is worried about you, princess. We all are. Vince has been calling. Beth. Everyone has been blowing up my phone wanting to know if you are ok." He admits.

Suddenly his phone rings. Looking down at it, I pull my knees tighter to my chest just as he reaches down and plucks it from the bed.

"Hello?" He answers, his face telling me then that it is Mark. "Yeah… I'm with her…"

Getting up from the bed, I walk into the bathroom and close the door. Leaning back against it I look up at the ceiling and pray. I pray for forgiveness and the will to make it through.

A knock at the door startles me and I move away from it. "Cheyenne, I need to tell Vince what's going on, honey." He tells me through the door. "He will understand."

Sitting down on the toilet, I place my head in my hands. It won't end until I face it, will it? "Go ahead, Marti… just tell him I'm not ready to see anyone." And then his deep voice moves away again.

How is it that dreams end so fast? I'm not dead yet, and though it feels like that I'm moving there faster than I ever thought possible. Granted the doctors haven't issued the warrant yet, but just like what almost everyone else that had been diagnosed must think, it sure felt like it. It used to be that people with cancer had no hope. What was done was done. You were told it was cancer and there was nothing that they could do about it. Today the mortality rate was down. People were surviving… did that mean I would?

Sighing, I pull myself back together and walk out into the room to face Marti to get the verdict. It wasn't Mark he was on the phone with, it was Vince… even worse.

"Everything is fine. I'm to keep him posted and he'll make sure that you are left alone until you're ready." He informs me while packing up his bag. "Let's go get some breakfast, and then I'll drive you home."

Nodding my head, I sit down on the end of the bed and pull my shoes on. No use in packing up my own bag, cause I don't have it. I had left it with the rest of my belongings with Mark. He has everything with him, that is of any value to me… Including himself.