A/N: I'm actually surprised that the last chapter got good reviews; I suck at action and/or fight scenes, so I'm glad you guys enjoyed it! Also, I'm toying with the idea of adding sort of deleted scenes/random facts and trivia to the final chapter – that is, if you guys want it. If you don't, then I won't post it; I just want to hear your thoughts on that idea and see if you guys are genuinely interested in all that stuff. On another note, it's sad to say, but this story is nearly complete. I've enjoyed writing it and I've loved reading your thoughts on it, but it's dwindling down to the final stretch. Here's a new chapter! R&R. Enjoy!

Chapter Thirteen: Love

John wasn't entirely sure how long he laid there staring up at the trees and through them, though just barely, to the dark sky above. Hours may have passed; he had no way to be sure. That didn't really matter to him though; all that mattered was that Batista was dead and Wade, Randy, and himself were alive. Wade sat down with a heavy thump beside him not long after John went down and John vaguely recalled lacing his fingers through the taller man's own digits. When Batista was completely gone, Randy laid down beside John, still breathing heavily, and wrapped his arms around him, though his grip was weak. But he knew that it was because Randy, just like Wade, was exhausted. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn't realize that he had relaxed into Randy's embrace or that Wade had laid down and was cuddling closer to him.

When he did realize that he was sandwiched between his two lovers, John smiled and leaned into Wade, inhaling his scent while his hands placed themselves over Randy's. It felt so natural, so right to be wrapped in their arms and he wished that they could simply lay there forever. Deep down, however, he knew that, eventually, they'd have to get up. He didn't know if the Infected Ones had fallen with the death of their leader, but he knew that the three of them were probably needed at the battlefield. John needed to know if everyone was okay, he needed to know who had died, who had been injured, and who had survived. The nagging sensation eventually won him over and he struggled to sit up, half because he couldn't and half because he didn't want to.

Reluctantly, John tore himself from the arms of his mates and he shook his head, trying to center himself. He could feel their eyes on him; Wade's green and Randy's icy blues and they caused a pleasant shiver to crawl up his spine. After all was said and done, he really wanted to spend some time with them; he had missed them so much and he hadn't had the time to dwell on that simple fact given the recent events. His thoughts were interrupted by Wade's voice and his statement brought a brief smile to his face.

"We should go back. The others might need us and besides there's nothing left for us here."

Nodding, John looked over his shoulder at Randy and Wade and his eyes met theirs. Holding in an exhausted sigh, John slowly made his way to his feet, stumbling slightly, but he remained standing. Turning to face the two men still on the ground, he smiled down at them tiredly and held out both hands for them to take. Randy took hold and hoisted himself up, cracking his neck and flexing his arms. John then pulled Wade up who stood unsteadily on his feet. It wasn't until he started walking that John noticed that he had a slight limp in his right leg. Hoping that it wasn't something too severe, John reached up and patted the taller man on his shoulder, caressing it gently before he let his hand fall. Flashing him a brief smile, Wade looked around before he spoke.

"Right, let's get a move on. The sooner we get there, the sooner we'll know what's happened."

Randy grunted in agreement while John merely nodded. Together, the three of them made their way back through the forestry and out into the desert. It took longer to return to the battle field than it had to leave it, but John knew it was because of his lack of adrenaline coursing through his system. By the time they saw the first signs of the battle field, the sky had become lighter; dawn would soon be upon them and with it, the revelation of what went on in their absence during the major fighting. The first thing John's mind processed when he had arrived was the smell of smoke, blood, and charred remains. It was an odd mixture, one which was extremely unpleasant, but he knew that it would be one that would stay with him for many years.

As they continue approaching the area, John saw that dark blood and bodies littered the ground and he felt his stomach tightening at the sight of it. Sure, he expected to see it, but the reality of it was far worse than any images conjured up by his mind. When they had moved closer to the scene, someone spotted them and called out, weaving through the bodies and the injured to get to them. As the man got closer, John saw, to his relief, that it was Evan. The smaller man looked perfectly fine, if only a little frazzled, and he wondered if Evan fought at all.

"Oh thank goodness that you're all okay! We've been worried sick, wondering if you guys got Batista or if he got you. We knew he was dead when the Infected Ones started losing a lot of their strength, but we just weren't sure." Evan's arms were around John's neck in a matter of seconds and John felt himself returning the hug, smiling a bit at the energy the younger man possessed.

"How is everyone? Did everyone…make it?" Randy asked, the strain of the fight with Batista quite obvious in his voice. Evan let go and looked up at all three of them, a sad look on his face.

"No…not everyone's okay. We have casualties and injuries… It's been hard…" At seeing the expression on Evan's face, John asked the question that had popped into his mind when Evan first pulled away.

"How's Kane doing, Evan?" Tears welled up in Evan's eyes and John reached out and pulled him into a hug.

"F-fine. Alive, but he…he lost an arm and he bled…a lot. It was so scary. And it wouldn't have happened if I had been paying attention."

"I'm sure he doesn't see it that way, Ev. He'll be fine; he's tougher than he looks." Nodding, Evan sniffed, trying to regain some control over himself before he pulled away and flashed an unconvincing smile up at John.

"Yeah, h-he is pretty tough. I guess you wanna see how the others are doing, huh?" Without even waiting for their answers, Evan walked away, taking the path he had used to get to them. John started after him, following by Randy and Wade, and carefully, so as not to disturb any of the bodies on the ground, they followed Evan.

John made his way slowly, looking at the blood, the bodies, and the limbs that scattered the desert sand. The sun was just starting to rise, and it was already starting to get hot, which meant that the bodies were probably decaying a lot quicker than usual. It was sad to see his kinsman dead and torn apart, even the Infected Ones; after all, they had once been just like Evan, just like him: normal humanoid beings. Were it not for Batista… No, that wasn't right; blame him wasn't right either. After all, it was Noba who created Batista and who injected The Virus into him; who knows what else he did to make Batista what he was. Perhaps it he hadn't had The Virus in him, Batista would have been normal as well, maybe even someone John could have been friends with, but he'd never know now.

A familiar face made John stop in his tracks and, carefully, he turned left, trying his best to avoid stepping on a limb or on someone. After walking a few feet from where Randy and Wade were standing, he crouched down and stared down at Morrison's body. Sadness overcame him; even though he didn't know him all that well, he had liked Morrison and had been glad to see him so ready and anxious to fight. Now, he could never thank him. A small blonde girl approached him, and he looked up at her.

"I'm sorry." His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears, and he didn't really understand why he was apologizing to this girl about Morrison. She nodded and bit her lip, looking down at the brunette who appeared to be merely sleeping, though that obviously wasn't the case.

"It's okay. John wouldn't have wanted you to be sad. He went out with a bang just like he wanted to, and he save a lot of people when he did so. It's how he wanted it, so it'll be okay."

Numbly, John rose to his feet and walked back to Randy and Wade, keeping his gaze focused to the dark red and yellow ground. Randy rubbed his back while Wade pulled him into a one armed hug and kissed his temple lovingly. Stepping out of their reach, John continued down Evan's path, trying not to look around him, just in case. However, a voice calling his name caused him to look up and over at the right. Sitting on a wooden log was Justin with Heath by his side. Relief flooded him, as well as overwhelming happiness, and John knew that Wade would be following him this time. Quickly, they made their way to the pair and immediately talking ensued.

"So, didja get 'im Wade?"

"How are you three felling? Any injuries? I call heal them for you."

"Man, you missed one intense fight, naw mean? Almost lost my head. Literally. See the bandages?"

"Were either of you two severely hurt?" Wade's question stopped the babble coming from the pair and Justin looked at Heath who tried to shrug it off.

"It's just like Heath said: he almost lost his head. See those bandages? Thanks to Trish, he was saved. Barely."

"Justin, I hate it when you use that tone. You know I hate it!" John watched with a slightly bemused expression at the two. Then, his eyes widened when he spotted something he hadn't seen on either of them before: matching serial numbers on their rib cages. He wasn't all that surprised by this, and yet, in a way, he kind of was.

"Well, I'm glad you two are safe. I was worried." Heath scoffed at Wade while Justin gave him a smile.

"You worry too much. You'll turn into an old man if ya keep doin' that, Wade."

"You're probably right. Well, I suppose we should go and check everyone else out. We'll catch up later, yeah?" With twin nods at the taller man, the two went back to what they were previously doing as John and Wade returned to Randy and Evan, who was standing with his hands on his hips.

"You guys are so slow. Even I can move faster than that. Come on, Chris wants to see you guys."

John spotted where they were heading, towards the giant bon fire that had lit the area the night before. It was out now, looking as though water had drenched it as well as the sand around it. Bodies of the dead were line up with white sheets thrown over top of them. Those were we injured were either being attended to or healing themselves. Thankfully though, he saw that Chris wasn't one of them and neither was Undertaker. Both were sitting together with Kane, Ted, and Cody, all of whom looked up at them as they approached.

"Did you miss me?" Evan practically hurled himself into Kane, who grunted when the smaller man's body collided with his. John saw that he was missing an arm, but Kane didn't appear to mind or even notice as he wrapped his remaining arm tightly and possessively around his mate's waist.

"Don't ask such silly questions, Evan. Of course I missed you."

"It's about time you three get your asses back here. I thought I'd have to come and help you, you were gone so long. God, am I going to have to give you guys time limits from now on or what?"

Chris' voice grabbed John's attention and he gasped when he saw the state that the blonde was in. Huge red tinting gauze-like bandages covered what must have been a really nasty cut from his left shoulder to his right rib cage. His right arm looked severely burned and painful while his left arm was covered in white bandage wraps that had bloody spots all over them. Bruises dotted his body and his lip was busted, but he was alive. And that's what really mattered. Wade's sharp intake of breath told John that he too was worried, but relieved at the state of his mentor. Even Randy looked concerned.

"It's not as bad as it looks so quit gawking. So, how was Batista? I bet the fucker put up one hell of a fight."

"He did. It wasn't looking too good, but we got him. He's no more." Wade's voice shook slightly and John reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing it for reassurance.

"I told you that you'd win. However, the price for some has been much more severe than for others." Undertaker had a bloody lip and some scratches, but other than that he was fine. However, it was the man himself that John was looking at; instead, his gaze followed Undertaker's and he spotted the Miz's body lying on the ground with Alex Riley kneeling beside him, hands spread over him and a vague, green mist pouring from his hands.

"Alex is exhausted, but he hasn't given up trying to resurrect Mike for hours."

"How did he…?" The question just slipped out, but John didn't really care at this point. All he cared about what the sheer look of agony on Alex's face and the sadness, anger, and hatred that was fueling his entire being, all of which he knew belonged to Alex and not himself.

"Strangulation. It seems odd, but Alex was being overwhelmed by Infected Ones, so Mike did what anyone with a mate would do: he got in there and beat the shit out of them. However, he let his guard down and one just came up and, well, I'm sure you can put the rest together."

"I didn't know Riley had the ability to resurrect someone. It's a very rare ability." Randy's voice was soft and thick and John realized that both he and Wade were probably feeling the same things that John was from Alex. He knew that he'd be in extreme amounts of pain if either Randy or Wade had been severely injured, let alone killed… He reached over and pulled Randy to him, resting his head on Randy's shoulder, and breathed in his scent.

"Aside from me, he's the only one of our kind that has that ability. And he's been trying like hell to use it. However, the more worn out and exhausted you are, the longer it takes. Like I said, he's been at it for hours." Undertaker's voice was drowned out by a loud, pain-filled cry from Alex.

"Goddamn it Michael! You're not allowed to leave me like this you stubborn bastard! Not now, not ever! You hear me?"

"I highly doubt if Michael will-" Once more, his voice was cut off by loud, obnoxious coughing and, within a few seconds, Miz sat up, clutching his throat and gasping for breath. After a split second, Alex launched himself at Miz and hugged him tightly, crying tears of joy and relief.

"Mike! I'm so fucking glad you're alive." He pulled back and punched Mike in the arm as hard as he could. Even Randy winced at it and John chuckled softly.

"OW! What the fuck was that for, 'Lex?"

"For scaring the crap outta me, you idiot! Never, ever do that again! You hear me?"

"Ah, young love."

"Doesn't it just warm your heart up? Almost like chicken noodle soup, only not really." John turned around and saw Chris Sabin and Alex Shelley prance over to them, kicking and stepping on the bodies of Infected Ones, not seeming to care about what they were doing. Although he didn't know them at all, and still didn't really trust them completely, he was relieved to see them.

"Hey! You two are alright!" Sabin smirked while Alex held up his bandaged arm and frowned.

"Uh, this does not look all right to me. I'm lucky that Sabin was there to back me up, or my ass would have been dead."

"And I'd never let anyone kick that ass, but me, so here he is. As annoying and twisted as ever."

"You love me. Don't deny it."

"Wasn't going to."

"So what will you guys be doing now that Batista and the Infected Ones are no more?" John wasn't trying to be obvious at interrupting them, but he couldn't help it. Although he liked them, he didn't want to hear them banter all day. Actually, now that he really thought about it, all he wanted to do was curl up on a nice, big, comfortable bed and snuggle between Wade and Randy. God, that sounded like absolute heaven right now.

"We'll probably walk around and then get the hell out of here. Since the Stalkers aren't needed anymore, we'll disband and then…I dunno what we'll do." Alex scoffed at Chris and looked up at him.

"You are so not getting rid of my ass."

"Wasn't trying to. Later John. Take care." Without another word, they turned and left the way they arrived last night. John looked up at Randy and saw that the tanned man was gazing at Ted and Cody, who were sitting a little ways behind Chris and Undertaker. Cody was cooing over Ted who had a lot of nasty looking welts and burns on his torso and was missing a hand. Blood caked on his forehead and he looked exhausted.

"Teddy, are you sure you're okay?" Cody's voice was soft and filled with concern. John saw that on his arm he had the serial numbers as Ted had and a small grin spread across his face; he had been right, they were made for each other.

"Baby Boy, I swear, if ya ask me that one more time, I will seriously hurt you. Now stop. Hey, boss. Is it all taken care of?"

"Yeah, it's all taken care of. After we've rested for a bit, I want to talk to you about something, but until then, get some rest and take care. And Cody, be sure to take care of him as well. He needs it." Randy then turned to Undertaker.

"Where are the lodgings for Morrison's tribe?"

"Underground and little ways to the east. Chris can take you there. Oh, and Wade, we'll need your help in disposing of the dead Infected Ones." Wade hesitated before he asked.

"What help?"

"We need you to open a hole in the earth for us to throw the Infected Ones into. Think you can do that?"

"Sure. Sure no problem." Undertaker nodded to him.

"Tomorrow then, when we're all rested and feeling a bit better. Now, Chris, if you don't mind…" Chris got up and smirked at them, his usual cockiness surrounding him like a veil.

"No problem. I can take care of our three big guys. See you later Mark." Chris led the way and, like little baby chicks, John, Randy, and Wade followed him.

"What did you mean by 'three big guys'? We really didn't do anything except kill Batista. We could have been way more helpful to you." Looking behind him, Chris narrowed his eyes at John and frowned at him.

"Believe me, you three did the most out of anyone. We were getting our asses whooped until Batista died, then the Infected Ones were like sitting ducks. They were too disoriented to see what hit them, so after Batista died, it was an easy win. Most of the injuries and casualties occurred before their leader died, so don't feel bad or useless or anything like that because you're not. So suck it up and put on your big boy panties."

Dumbfounded, John merely nodded meekly before he looked at Wade, who looked a bit embarrassed, and then at Randy, who was trying hard not to laugh. They walked for about ten minutes before came to what appeared to be a well. Chris told them to stand back and he approached it and shouted down into it, his voice echoing as he did so. After a few seconds, the air around them rippled and then their surroundings literally melted away to reveal a high rock stair well that led into the desert city that was Morrison's tribe's home.

"Yeah, pretty damn cool, isn't it? Kofi's really good at mirages and barriers so he's been charged with protecting the place. Come on, you guys need to clean up because you look and smell like hell, and you need some rest. And probably some sex. Just saying."

John laughed as he stumbled forward, trying to following Chris down the stairwell. Exhaustion was taking him over and he needed Randy and Wade both to help him down the stairs. He didn't really care though. Soon, he'd be washed up and ready to lay down with his two mates, the two people that he would give up anything and everything for. As they made their way to the city, random thoughts swirled around in his head and made him feel a little bit better about having accomplished what he was set out to do.

It was so scary…

Yeah, h-he is pretty tough.

It's how he wanted it, so it'll be okay.

You missed one intense fight, naw mean?

Of course I missed you.

You're not allowed to leave me like this!

And I'd never let anyone kick that ass, but me.

You did the most out of anyone. ..So suck it up and put on your big boy panties.

It'll be okay.

It'll be okay…