Chapter 20

"C'mon Randy. Hurry up!" Jeff pestered his friend across the parking lot. Their parts in the show being over, they'd been given permission, along with the rest of the roster that weren't needed for the show, to leave the arena early. After spending an hour being questioned by the police, they'd taken Orton's rental and made their way to the hospital where Callie and Dave were being treated.

"Go on ahead." Answered Randy as he stopped just outside of the doors. "I'm going to call Sam and let her know what's up."

Jeff turned to the taller man. "She was watching, huh?"

"Yeah." Randy's voice remained low. "She and Cal hung out whenever I brought her to a show. They were getting close. I should give her a call."

"Alright man. See you inside." Jeff left Randy to his phone and entered the electronic doors. He wasn't sure what it was about hospitals that always made his stomach churn. Probably the overwhelming smell of sanitizer. Well, it could also be the suffocating reality that people frequently died here but, right now, he was going to keep telling himself if was the antiseptic. Scanning the waiting area in the emergency department and seeing no one he recognized, Jeff walked up to the reception desk where a young brunette was flipping through files. As he approached the counter she looked up from her work and gave a smile rimmed with sympathy.

"Are you from the wrestlin' company?" Her southern drawl didn't escape his notice, nor did her large brown eyes.

"Yeah," he answered, laying his own accent on thickly. "I'm actually lookin' for a few people."

The nurse, whose nametag read Beth, gave a knowing nod. "Someone already called from there. Said to expect quite a few of you to start comin' in. We got ya'll set up in a private waitin' room upstairs. I can take you up there."

Jeff looked around at some of the stares he was getting from others and was suddenly thankful someone had had the forethought to take care of things. "Thanks. Uh, my friend's outside on the phone. I think I'll wait until he gets here. Save ya a trip."

"Sure thing."

"Ummm..." Jeff stopped her as she turned to the filing cabinet behind her. "You don't know how my friends are doing, do you?"

"I'm sorry, honey. There hasn't been any from word from the docs on 'em yet."

...

"Alright babe...yeah...okay...I'll call you as soon as we know something...I love you too." As Randy hung up the phone he looked up to see Punk walking towards him with Kofi and Ron, having caught a ride with them after answering questions of their own for the cops.

"You seen em yet?" Punk's eyes were wide with anticipation but his spirits fell as Randy shook his head.

"We just got here. I was actually calling Sam so I haven't even been in yet."

"How's she doin?" Kofi inquired of Randy's wife.

"Worried, like the rest of us. Cal doesn't make it...well, John'll never be the same."

All four men entered through the glass doors to be met by the same awe-struck stares. "Don't worry," they heard as the colorful wrestler came up to them. "They gave us a waiting room up on the third floor."

"Good." Punk felt like his mind had been read. "I love fans but now isn't really the time."

"Are all of you ready? I can take you up now if you are."

...

The lights of the city twinkled in the dark curtain hanging beyond the hospital window. From three floors up John watched the cars driving below on Cooper Street. If Callie had been here watching with him, she would have been making up stories about who these people were and where they were going. Fantastic epics about their families, their jobs and even their pets. She would make them spies or movie stars, famous writers or starving artists, weaving her tales so deeply it was easy to lose yourself in them. But Callie wasn't beside her brother. Her small singsong voice wasn't twisting tales to make him laugh. Right now, Callie was downstairs being worked on by doctors and nurses; a whole team of people called into action for her survival. John had already been waiting for what seemed like forever in the room he'd been led to. It was comfortable enough with it's monotone carpet and plush couches but John would still rather be anywhere else. He looked down out of the window, still watching the lights below, as his cell phone went off in his pocket. It had been ringing off the hook since he'd arrived and, this time, he didn't even bother to look at it. His friends and family were calling nonstop. The fact that he hadn't answered or returned any of the messages should have been their hint to back off but still they persisted. It wasn't that he was actually busy, as they should already have assumed, he just wasn't ready to deal with all of the questions he had no answers for. It could have been someone from the company, Vince even, but he didn't care. If it was important enough, they knew where to find him.

He turned at the sound of the door opening behind him to see that his misery finally had some company. They were led in by the nurse he'd seen downstairs and, even in his current state, John didn't miss the look she gave Jeff as he strode past her into the room.

"Hey, sorry it took so long." Randy came up to John first. "Cops made us stay and asked a million questions. How you holdin up?"

Before he even had a chance to answer, John's phone sounded again. Pulling the cell out of his back pocket, he hit the ignore button and turned it off. "I'd be a lot better if they'd tell me something. And if I could throw this out the window," he said, holding up the phone.

"Your family is worried."

"I know, I know. And my friends and the trainers and the crew AND the cops. Damn thing hasn't stopped since all of this happened."

"Well, if you need some time, I can take it."

John looked up questioningly. "Take it?"

"Your phone," Randy clarified. "If you want I can take the calls for you. Tell em all what's going on. Get em off you back for a little while."

John let out a breath as he studied his friend's features. "Are you sure? I mean, it's literally going off every five minutes."

"I'm sure." Randy grinned. "Besides, if I sit around here with nothing to do I'll go crazy. Make me feel useful."

John handed over the touch-screen and everything about his expression screamed a silent thank you to Orton. Before anything else could be said, the door opened once again and a white-coated doctor entered the room. Probably somewhere in his sixties, he stopped short when he saw the rough and tumble men before him.

"Ummm..." He stalled by looking down at the file in his hands. "Is one of you related to Callie Cena?"

"Yeah." John's voice came out as a whisper. "I'm her brother."

"I'm doctor Kevin Richards. I've been one of the physicians that's been treating Callie since she came in." He shook the hand that John mechanically offered to him. "Let me start by saying that Callie is still alive but...well, it's not looking good." He paused and looked around at all of the expectant eyes on him. They were waiting for him to tell them that he had medication or some miracle surgery that would save her but he was going to disappoint them. All he had was the truth. "Callie has sustained substantial internal damage. Her initial x-rays show her broken ribs have punctured her right lung and it's quickly filling up with blood. She has numerous other fractures and internal bleeding. Honestly, though, there's only so much we can tell from her tests."

"What do you mean?" Punk spoke up.

Kevin looked to John. "We need your permission to take her into surgery. We won't know for sure exactly how much damage has been done until we can see for ourselves."

"Of course," John eagerly agreed. "Whatever needs to be done to help her."

"I'll send a nurse up a little bit later with the paperwork..."

"No, now." John was suddenly on edge. "I know how hospitals work. You can't do the surgery until I sign. I'll do it now."

"Well, it would matter either way, Mr. Cena. Unfortunately we're going to have to wait before we can begin anyway. We've estimated we can afford about two hours before we absolutely can't wait any longer."

"Why can't you take her now?" Randy's confusion was mirrored by everyone.

"Well," the doctor continued. He seemed to become more anxious the deeper he got into explaining Callie's injuries. "All of her bloodwork has come back showing massive doses of sedatives and opiates but she's also severely malnourished. Ummm...actually, it seems that she wasn't given any sort of nourishment the entire time she was missing."

John felt physically sick. Not only had she been kidnapped and tortured but Wade had starved her as well, adding to her suffering. "Nothing at all?"

"I had her charts faxed over from her general physician. At her last checkup a month ago she was 104 pounds. Now she weighs in at 82."

"She lost 22 pounds in a week?!"

"Once the first few days pass, the body goes into starvation mode and starts burning off it's stores of fat and muscle. Callie didn't have much of either to spare, plus her body was overcompensating because of her injuries added to complete dehydration. All of it caused her body to fall comatose. We have her on IV fluids and medication but until we can stabilize her, surgery is a death sentence. Her body isn't strong enough to handle the stress of the operation."

"Can she survive until then?" John's voice cracked as he tried to control his racing thoughts.

"We've inserted a tube into her chest to keep draining her lung and she's receiving transfusions to replace the blood she's losing. If it comes down to it, we are fully prepared to begin surgery at any time but the stronger we can get her before then, the better her chances of survival."

This time, it was Jeff's turn to speak up. "Did you say she was in a coma? Like, from head injuries?"

"Yes and no. The gash on Callie's head is pretty deep but not enough to cause that kind of reaction. Amazingly, there are no signs of swelling or bleeding around her brain either. Her comatose state is her body's defense mechanism against all of the physical trauma. It's quite common actually. She's sustained so much damage that her brain has shut down everything except the bare minimum needed to live and heal. Basically, it's the brain's way of rerouting what energy she has left to the places she needs it most."

"So...when she gets better she'll come out of it?"

"We hope so. Right now, our main concern is to get her strong enough for surgery. We're going to have to take this one step at a time."

"I want to see her." The sentence left John's lips as more of an order than a request.

"Well, she's downstairs still. She's highly unstable and we haven't had a chance to clean her up yet..."

"I don't care." John took several steps towards the physician, looking down at the shorter man. Usually, he wasn't ow to use his size or his status to intimidate someone to get his way but he would justify this to himself later. H'ed had enough of people making excuses and telling him to wait. "You said you had two hours before surgery. I'm going to spend them with her." The tone of his voice was suddenly low and dangerous. In a flash, John Cena went from a scared man to a fierce older brother. It became quickly apparent to the doctor that it would be in his best interest to keep all of these men happy.

Dr. Richards had a sister of his own. Karen was seven years his junior and, if it were her in this situation, he couldn't say he wouldn't be demanding the exact same thing. "Okay," he agreed. "But remember, with her in a coma, she won't respond to any outside stimuli. There's no guarantee she'll even know you're there."

"Doesn't matter. I may not get any more time after this."

Kevin gave an understanding nod. "I'll have the nurse bring you down in a few minutes." He stopped and looked to the others. "And if there's anything you need in the meantime, please let one of the nurses know." After another sympathetic glance, he turned and left the room, softly closing the door behind him. As it shut all of the men in the room looked to John.

"You going to be able to handle this?" Punk asked, laying a reassuring hand on Cena's shoulder.

He let out the breath he'd been holding and looked at his friends. "Don't have much of a choice, do I? At least she's here with us. If it has to happen, then at least she won't die alone." At that, John gave them all a weak smile. It was the only silver lining he could think of.

...

Just how the event managed to go on after Barrett's violent display of revenge, no one could fathom. Even after the steel cell was raised there was chaos throughout the arena before they were finally able to get back to the script. The mat in the ring was removed and, with it, the dark stains of Callie's blood. At the last minute, Linda made an executive decision and banned the cell from being used in it's other match that night. Eventually, the matches did begin again. The fans still cheered their favorites and booed the heels but it was different than before. Their enthusiasm for the event had been darkened by what they'd seen. The worst part was the superstars that still had to perform that night. Those poor souls that had watched the scene with panicked hearts still had to pull themselves together long enough to put on a show worthy of Wrestlemania. But each one had other things on their mind. Ever since the incident, Shawn had secluded himself in the back to pray for his friends while waiting to drive Paul to the hospital with some of the others. Oscar, his Mysterio mask long since removed, had been busy on the phone reassuring his children that he loved them and he would see them soon. Stephanie McMahon was in the car on her way to Arlington Memorial while Vince was swamped with police and media alike. It was far too late to set up any sort of crime scene; they all knew Wade was the antagonist in this story anyway, but they cops were searching the arena and units had already been dispatched to his hotel room while calls were being made to his friends and family overseas. No one could believe that Barrett had hidden both his plans and Callie so well.

That night, the fans went home dumbfounded, unable to wrap their heads around what they'd seen. Many had been able to convince themselves that it was nothing more than a very elaborate plot twist designed to bring Cena's sister back into the spotlight. When they woke the next morning to read the many reviews and blogs available, they would struggle even harder to deny themselves the truth.

After the show, the locker rooms and back hallways of the stadium were eerily quiet. Crew packed up the sets and equipment in near silence. Superstars showered, changed and gathered their things to head for either their hotels or the hospital with heavy thoughts. Even well after midnight, police were still asking questions and taking notes, showing no signs of departing anytime soon.

...

Sighing as he hung up the phone for what seemed like the millionth time, Randy looked up at the brick building, wondering what was going on inside. After their initial encounter with Dr. Richards, he'd made his way outside to begin the arduous task of answering all of John's calls. He honestly didn't mind helping out his best friend but explaining the same depressing details over and over was emotionally exhausting. Luckily for him, one of the first incoming calls he'd answered was from Sean, John's brother. After inquiring about both John and Callie, he assured Randy he would spread the news to the rest of the Cena clan, taking at least some of the pressure off of Orton. He still had John's other friends to worry about but he gave minimal information to non-family like Sean asked him to and politely asked them to give John some space. Most agreed, some seemed slightly offended but all were equally concerned.

...

"But what about Dave? Have you figured out why he collapsed like he did?" Stephanie was on information overload. Between dealing with the cops at the arena and now doctors at the hospital she was at her wit's end. Not only was she still reeling from the event and the news about Callie's condition but Bautista's ailment was adding fuel to an already raging fire.

"Mr. Bautista's condition is stable right now. His bloodwork is showing low levels of...well, pretty much everything. He's suffering from dehydration, echaustion and his blood sugar makes it obvious he hasn't been eating either."

"Mix that with the excitement of finally going after Wade..." Paul chimed in.

"And it was a certain recipe for disaster. His whole system went on overload." The physician finished for "He's being given fluids and we're keeping him heavily sedated for the time being. He's not in any imminent danger but I do want to keep him under observation for a few days."

"Thanks Doc." Paul shook the man's hand and watched him walk away before turning to his wife. "You gonna' be okay?" He asked, rubbing his hand up and down the small of her back.

"Yeah. Just so much shit at once. All of this with Cal and Barrett and now we're going to be short several superstars for RAW tomorrow." Steph rubbed her arms against the chill of the hospital. With her parents at the arena and Shane running interference at Titan Towers she was doing her best to keep things together here but she felt like she was going to fall apart herself. The WWE had certainly dealt with numerous emergencies before but none like this. None that involved so many people, so many disrupted lives. "I mean, we have less than 24 hours to come up with an explanation for all of this and a new show for RAW."

"Well, let's go catch up with the others." Paul suggested. "See how everyone else is doing before checking in with Vince." The pair started off down the too-sterile hallways hand in hand.

...

John didn't realize he was holding his breath until his body started running on pure instinct, forcing the air from his lungs. The nurse had left him outside of an area encircled by glass windows, their blinds shut against unwanted stares. He'd been standing outside of the door for what seemed like forever but had yet to cross the threshold. He shouldn't be hesitant but he was terrified. John had seen his sister endure the torment incurred in the ring and knew he would never be able to erase those images from his memory. He wasn't sure if he was ready to add more to the collection.

Over time, Callie had become more than just a long lost sister. In her, he had found a loyal friend and confidant. But John couldn't help feeling like he'd let her down. Wasn't it his job to watch over her? Where had he been when Barrett forced his way into Callie's home and took her?

Taking a deep breath and biting the bullet, he pushed open the glass door and entered the rounded room. John waited for the sound of the door hissing shut behind him before opening his eyes to take in the scene. Callie lay on the gurney, the puddle of blood still beneath her head though it was no longer growing. Her clothes had been removed to give the medical teams easier access to her injuries. In an attempt at modesty, a beige, stretchable bandage was wrapped loosely around her chest while, from her clearly visible hip bones down, a thin sheet covered her. In the harsh glare of the overhead lighting John could see every bruise and point of impact; every fingerprint and chain mark stood ugly and dark against her ashen skin. IV's and wires came from nearly every area of her arms and torso. John quickly noticed the tube protruding from the ribs beneath her right arm; the tube Dr. Richards had told him was keeping her from drowning in her own blood.

Slowly, John walked to the bedside and looked down at Callie. Her hair tangled around her shoulders, breath coming in short rasps through the oxygen mask over her nose and mouth as she struggled to stay alive. There were wires attached to her forehead and chest and, when he followed them with his eyes, John found himself looking at various machines above her head.

The room was silent except for the uneven blip of the heart monitor and the echo of his own heart throbbing in his ears. He sat down in the chair someone had set beside the bed and enfolded his sister's hand in his, taking notice of how cool and clammy her fingers were. Almost immediately, that small touch was not enough and, just as he had at the arena, he leaned forward and touched her. He kissed her hot brow and let his tears fall into her hair, squeezing his eyes tight against this new reality. John remained like that for several minutes, allowing himself to eke out what minimal solace there was in the feel of her body solid against his own skin. When he finally sat back, hands still entwined, it wasn't Callie that he looked at but down at the tiled emergency room floor, the dark specks of the utilitarian design blurring together through his tears. Softly and thoughtfully, he spoke. His first words were so raspy and hoarse from his sobbing, John had to clear his throat and begin again, keeping his gaze lowered in self-shame.

"I'm sorry." His words, audible now, were still barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you C.C. I'm sorry I didn't find you in time. And...I'm sorry the last conversation we had was a fight because I kept secrets from you. Because I lied to you." John paused, almost unable to figure out how to go on. Dr. Richards had warned him that Callie couldn't hear him anyway but he held onto the hope that something would get through. "I know I don't deserve to ask you for your forgiveness," he continued, looking up from the floor to her closed eyes. "But I am going to beg you to not give up. I don't know where you are or what you're going through right now but we're all still here...and we need you. Dave and Punk need you. Jeff REALLY needs you," John gave a weak chuckle for her benefit at the small joke. "And...really...I need you." His voice cracked as more tears threatened to fall. "I know I lived without you once but I don't know how anymore. It would never be the same. I would never be the same. You're the flip side of my coin. I love you little sister. Please come back." At that, John kept silent watch over her still form, feeling his heart drum in time with the beeping of Callie's monitor.

...

"Alright, someone has to say it." Lashley broke the tense silence of the waiting room. "Might as well be me. What the holy fuck?!" The expressions of everyone's faces proves that he'd uttered what they'd all been thinking. "I mean, Barrett? I never would have guessed."

"We all knew he was a little off," Kofi chimed in. "But kidnapping? Callie?"

Mark stood from his seat, pent-up energy getting the best of him, and ran his hand over his now-dry hair. "How the hell did he manage to jam that cell down?"

"He planned it all along." The voice came from the couch by the window where Justin Gabriel had been sitting quietly until now. Being a part of the former Nexxus with Wade gave him even more reason to be confused by the larger man's behavior. The two had spent a lot of time on the road together during their careers. Justin looked up with innocent eyes at the others in the room. "He's the one who took her when she went missing. He had her all along...and we saw him every fucking DAY this whole time! How fucked up is that?!"

"Hey," Shawn laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder from his perch on the arm of the sofa. "We all know how you feel. Wade turned his back on everything for some imagined offense and played us all."

"It just seems like we should have know something wasn't right with him. Seem something wrong."

"Problem is, I'm sure we did. At least, some of us, anyway. But it probably didn't seem wrong at the time. Things that won't make sense until we look back on them and piece it all together." Shawn sighed as he turned his speech to the entire room. "We can't try to make sense of it right now. If we do, we'll make ourselves just as insane as Barrett is." Several others nodded their agreement. "All we can do right now is accept that it happened and pray that Wade predicted the wrong outcome."

The room remained silent while they contemplated this. Essentially, Shawn was right. The police would uncover more details about Wade's motives in time. Until then, they could easily drive themselves crazy speculating about Wade's plans. The fact was, none of them knew exactly what had gone on in his head and, even if they could take a peek, would never have been able to comprehend what they were seeing. Their main concern right now was Callie and Dave being taken care of and seeing justice done on Barrett. None cared whether he saw his judgement in a courtroom or in hell but one was sure to come soon.

So there they waited until someone would come to give them some news, some hope, that their world had not been completely turned upside down.