12:

I was walking down to the arena. There were thousands of fans surrounding me, but I couldn't really make them out. It was like when The Undertaker came out to the ring: the lights were dim, the fans were reverent, and the world was watching me make my way along.

There was a wrestler already in the ring waiting for me. As I came closer, I realized that it was Randy, and he was leaning forward with a big smile on his face. I smiled back and made a run for it, thinking I could do a baseball slide into the ring.

I was almost to the ring when something caught my eye. It was sticking out from underneath the ring apron, and I slowed my run to get a better look. It was still too hard to see with the dim lighting, so I assumed it was nothing significant and I leaned forward to slide under the ropes.

It reached out from under the ring apron and grabbed my ankle before I could get into the ring. It started to pull me out, so I tried to grab the ropes for support, but when I reached for them, I realized that they had disappeared.

The fans started booing so loudly, my eardrums throbbed. I looked at Randy desperately, reaching out to him to help me. He rushed down and reached for my hand, but it was too late.

Whatever had a hold of me was too strong. I fell backward onto the mat outside of the ring. I looked up at Randy one more time before I was pulled under the ring. He had this empty look on his face, like he knew that I was gone and there was nothing he could do about it.

"John? John, wake up," Randy shook me roughly.

"Huh?" I struggled to open my eyes, feeling like I had been hit by a truck.

"We've got to get you back. The Nexus is supposed to find you so they don't think you had anything to do with last night, remember?" Randy informed me.

I started to sit up, and my injury sent out violent shocks, fully awakening me. I groaned painfully, so Randy leaned in to help me to my feet, asking, "What can I do?"

"You got any massive pain killers?" I joked.

Randy turned his head to one side as if to analyze me for a moment, then he said, "I have something that might work."

"Is it legal?" I asked with a wry smile.

Randy scoffed and answered dryly, "Of course it is...in about four of The States and Eastern China."

If it can kill this pain, I don't care what it is.

:-:

Randy drove me to the next arena we were scheduled to be in. It wasn't very far from last night's arena, and it was a few blocks from where The Nexus got jumped, so it wasn't considered strange when Wade found me passed out in the arena locker room half an hour later, looking like I had been beaten and left there after the brawl the night before.

What he didn't know was that my "beating" was just leftover Nexus damage, and my "passed out" state was just an acting technique I picked up from an extra while filming 12 Rounds.

I was taken to the hospital, where the doctor examined what he described to be, "Horrific damage done by a brutal group of people," and I was not only given a prescription to help with the pain, but the doctor made a point of telling Wade that my beating was the worst of all the Nexus members.

"The people who did this should be in prison for such an atrocity! You said there were at least twenty of them, Mr. Barrett?" the doctor inquired.

I lifted a brow at Wade. He cleared his throat and answered, "Tha's right. At leas' twenty."

The doctor looked at me and I nodded in agreement.

I wasn't about to piss off Wade when he was actually being nice to me.

As the doctor left, Wade patted me on the back and said in a quiet tone, "I wan' you to know tha' I'm proud of you, Cena. You came to my aide las' night. I could 'ave had the kick of ten bells ou' of me."

I assumed that meant he was glad not to have his ass beat.

Shaking my head, I replied solemnly, "I wish I could have done more. I mean, I couldn't identify the guys who did this. It may not have been guys. It may have been Beth Phoenix-type brawny chicks for all I know."

I may have gone too far with this play.

Wade chuckled and replied, "It's no matter. You came when I called an' defended me honorably."

He beamed at me, and it was so creepy, I had to look away.

I think I threw up in my mouth a little bit.

:-:

I rode with Wade and The Nexus back to the arena. The guys had mostly minor injuries, which was saddening to hear, but fortunately they were completely distraught by what had happened to them.

"How could the driver not know who relieved him last night? I think it's a setup," Otunga vented while nursing the back of his neck.

"You think everything's a setup!" McGillicutty argued, and the others laughed.

Otunga narrowed his eyes at McGillicutty and seethed, "I do not!"

"You lost your gym socks last week and you said that was a setup," Harris pointed out.

"That phone booth rang in Manchester and when you answered it and no one replied, you said that was a setup," Slater added.

"And then there was that thing yesterday-" McGillicutty started.

Otunga cut him off, yelling, "Enough! You made your damn point! What do you think it was then, huh? A coincidence?"

The Nexus glanced at each other, but no one came forward with an answer.

Slater suggested after a long silence, "Maybe it was some of the other wrestlers. I mean, they hate us in the locker room right now."

"Yeah, but Cena got the worst of it! How did that happen?" Otunga debated.

Again, the guys were speechless. I was almost in awe of the situation, watching it seamlessly play out before me. Then Gabriel broke the silence with, "Some of Cena's injuries were from us. There's no way to know how badly he was really hurt."

The Nexus all turned to face me. I tried to hide the awkwardness with an apathetic shrug. Gabriel added grudgingly, "I swear one of the guys was Mark Henry. He was big."

Shut the fuck up, Gabriel. Just shut the fuck up.

I braced myself, thinking the guys were going to start putting the pieces together, but Otunga replied to Gabriel angrily, "I told you it wasn't Mark Henry! I saw him leave with Eve and The Bella Twins to watch a local game an hour before we left! There's no way he'd ditch all that fine ass to beat on us!"

All of the guys except Gabriel nodded in agreement. Even Wade seemed convinced that it wasn't Henry. I breathed a short sigh of relief and waited for a subject change. Wade leaned forward suddenly and said something I didn't expect, "All I know is: someone is goin' to pay for wha' happened las' night, an' I've got the scunt in the trunk righ' now."

Fuckity McShitfuck.

"You've got someone locked in the trunk right now?" Slater said almost excitedly.

"He's shitted on all of us an' he deserves wha' he's abou' to ge'," Wade yelled.

He looked at me, but I kept my mouth shut and my expression devoid, pretending like the revelation didn't affect me much. Wade knocked on the window and stopped the driver, and Nexus got out as Wade slipped the driver a wad of bills and said, "Whatever happens, you didn' see a thing."

The driver took the cash and nodded. Wade motioned for me to get out, so I did, slowly making my way around to the trunk. Nexus moved in closed as Wade let the lid of the trunk pop open and we all gazed upon the traitor at once.

It was Punk. Oh God, it was Punk.

His hands were cuffed behind his back, and he had an old gas mask over his head. He looked like he was struggling to breathe through it as McGillicutty and Harris pulled him out of the trunk and positioned Punk on his knees facing Wade. Slater was overcome with desperation for the first time since I had known him, asking Wade, "What are you doing? Punk is my friend!"

Wade argued violently, "He has been watching our every move an' tellin' it to Vince McMahon himself!"

I was completely shocked. I had no clue that Punk had been spying for McMahon. Slater was in shock as well, shaking his head as he said, "No, no, it's not true."

Wade pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and tossed it to Slater, saying, "You'll find all the truth you need right here."

Slater started checking the phone while Wade leaned down to Punk's level, saying mockingly, "Is it hard to breathe in there, Punk? I designed it tha' way. You won't suffocate so much as you'll jus' feel light headed, an' maybe pass out a' some point."

I swallowed to keep down the churning in my stomach. I could barely see Punk's face through the mask, but the fear was registering in his strained breaths. Slater must've seen enough evidence from the cell phone, because he suddenly launched at Punk, shouting, "You bastard! You fucking shitface, you were my friend!"

McGillicutty and Harris grabbed Slater and held him back. Wade took hold of Punk's gas mask and pulled it off, and Punk gasped furiously for air. He looked at me and said pleadingly, "John, don't let them do this to me."

Wade took control, stating in a calm but deliberate tone, "Someone in my gang is a liar, Punk, an' I know tha' you know who it is. You don' have to say a word, jus' point tha' li'le head of yours in the right direction, an' confirm my suspicions."

The Nexus stood stone still. My heart started pounding and adrenaline rushed through my veins. I knew that Punk was going to point his head at me.

Surprisingly, he didn't point at anybody, but said exhaustively, "I don't know. I don't know. That's the honest truth."

Wade stood up straight and put his fists on his hips, replying simply, "You point a' the culprit, an' you walk away from here unharmed. You refuse, an' we'll see wha' Slater wants to do with you."

"I don't know! I swear, I don't know!" Punk shouted.

I can't take this anymore.

"It's me! I'm the liar!" I stepped forward.

Everyone looked at me and I explained the partial truth, "I hired some thugs off the street to beat you guys down last night to get back at you for beating me."

I waited for The Nexus to jump me, but none of them moved. Wade smiled wryly and stated, "Did you think I didn't know tha', Cena?"

I stared at him, astonished. He came up close to me and leaned into my face as he added, "I know everything you do, John, in every detail. You should inform Randy of tha' truth as well."

Wade puckered his lips to mock an air kiss before he turned back to Punk. I realized at that moment that the mock air kiss was meant to be a hit against my relationship with Randy.

Was he indicating that he knew the details about that as well?

Wade sighed at Punk and said, "Although Cena love to martyr 'imself, he's oddly no' the shitter this time, so tell me who the real liar is."

The Nexus glanced at each other suspiciously. Punk shook his head and replied, "I really don't know. If I did, I would tell you."

"Well, then. Mask goes back on," Wade said, reaching for Punk's head.

Punk pulled away from him and tried to move away, shouting, "No, I won't put that thing on again! I can't breathe in it!"

Wade signaled for Otunga and Gabriel, who held Punk by his shoulders so that Wade could get the mask back on. Punk kept pleading with Nexus, "No! No, you can't do this to me! I won't say anything, just don't put the mask back on! Don't put it back on!"

He let out on last, painful cry before the mask silenced him.

I had never heard someone scream like that before.

:-:

That night, Wade and I rode alone in the limo back to the hotel. I was not allowed to see what The Nexus did with Punk, but I was told he would still be conscious. Wade sat across from me, pondering my face for signs of an expression he could criticize, but I gave him none. He finally asked me quietly, "You hate me, don't you, John?"

I did hate him, but I didn't want him to know that.

"I don't hate you. I just don't understand how you can be so...cruel."

Wade scoffed, asking blatantly, "Is tha' what you think this is? Cruelty?"

I locked eyes with him and explained, "You don't just use harsh words and take the mic for long speeches and rant and rave about somebody for a while. You take your frustrations out for real. You don't wrestle people. You demolish people."

Wade smiled like I had given him a compliment, then he grew serious, asking, "Do you want me to say tha' my father was violent an' a drunk? Do you want me to say my mum didn't tell me she loved me as a child? Do you want me to say I grew up hard an' never learned to care?"

I shrugged. Wade leaned in and stated, "My leadership is not designed from some lost, boring child's play. I am the alpha, an' I want everyone to know tha', no matter wha' it takes."

He sat back as if he had proved his point well enough. I suddenly asked him, "What if I don't give you the title at Survivor Series."

Wade squinted one eye at me, asking, "Wha'?"

"What if I let Randy keep it. What if I let myself get fired and you get nothing," I said simply.

A short laugh escaped Wade's lips, then he told me, "You still think your actions matter, Cena. Wha' you don't understand is tha' nothing you do matters. I will get the title, even if it means getting you fired. Even if I 'ave to put Randy on the injure' list. No one is ou' of bounds."

I knew that what Wade said was the complete truth. He would hurt anyone, fire anyone, and mow down anyone it took to get to the Championship.

As far as he's concerned, he already sees his name on that title.

:-:

"Come in," Randy said when I knocked on his hotel room door.

I locked the door behind me, and Randy got up to greet me. I started kissing him as soon as he got close, and although he was shocked at first, he quickly welcomed my lips against his own. Randy was usually the possessive one, but I took control this time, grabbing his belt and tugging him closer to me so that I could open his pants.

He pulled away from me and looked down, asking jokingly, "What do you think you're doing down there?"

"Fuck me," I said.

Randy locked eyes with me, stating, "You're still hurt."

"I said fuck me," I repeated more strongly.

"John," Randy started to argue again.

Hot tears formed in my eyes as I told him again, "I want you to fuck me, Randy. Do it, or goddammit, I will explode!"

"Alright, alright," Randy relented, seeing the pain in my ocean colored eyes.

He let me slowly take his clothes off, trying to kiss me from time to time, but I kept pulling away from him to finish what I was doing, and he half-smiled like he enjoyed my tease. He took his belt before I could drop it to the floor, and when it was my turn, Randy smiled at me deviously as he pulled my clothes off more roughly, then he wrapped the belt around my wrists and tightened it just enough so that I couldn't easily break free, getting me back with a tease of his own.

Randy let me to bed. I positioned myself on my stomach and he came up behind me. He seemed to slip in more easily this time, but the pain from my injury was more intense, and I couldn't help letting out a slight moan.

"John?" Randy asked quietly.

"Keep going," I ordered him.

Randy started off slow, then built up like last time, but he was intentionally using less force than I knew he wanted to. The pain seemed to be synonymous with the pleasure, until I couldn't tell the difference between the two anymore. Randy started groaning with each thrust, and I closed my eyes, saying aloud, "Randy."

He pressed his lips to my ear and breathed, "Say it again, John. Say you want me to fuck you."

"I want you to fuck me," I said, and he growled into my ear.

"What do you want, John?" he asked.

"I want you," I answered.

"Where do you want me, John?" he asked.

"Wherever you can put it," I groaned.

Randy took in a sharp breath, and I knew he was climaxing. He asked me one more question, "Who owns you, John?"

"You do," I said just as Randy released.

He stayed above me as he finished, saying smoothly, "Roll over. I want to do something for you."

I did as he said and turned over to face him. Randy kissed my lips a few times, then he started kissing my throat, down to my chest, down to my abs. I closed my eyes, feeling him kiss down, and down, and down...

Then I felt his mouth surround my erection, and I forgot all about my pain.