35:

I turned the handle on and let my hand drift through the water coming out of the shower head. It was already warm, a luxury not usually found in a hotel room. I smiled and enjoyed the feel of the water for a moment, absently taking notice that the water was gradually getting hotter.

I took my clothes off and stepped into the shower. It was one of those nice standing ones with an off-white color that made it appear more like a sauna. The water felt hot against my skin, but I wasn't too concerned because I figured it would level out soon.

The shower door was still open, and Randy peeked his head in. His blue-green eyes grazed over the length of my body like fingernails against my skin. I smiled wickedly and tempted him, "Wanna come inside?"

He gripped the door of the shower tightly and his eyes drifted up to meet mine as he turned his head to one side and asked dryly, "Do you think we have time?"

I couldn't remember talking to Wade about it, but I shrugged anyway, saying, "Why not?"

Randy didn't even bother to take his clothes off. He stepped into the shower and closed the door, then he surrounded me like a warm, wet blanket and began kissing me passionately.

His tongue felt hot it my mouth. It was a strange sensation, but I kept kissing him, resisting the urge to break away because I knew we didn't have much time to be together.

My dick started throbbing from the stimulation, but it too felt hot. I suddenly began to realize that the water from the shower was still getting hotter, and Randy's wet clothes were pressing up against my skin like a blanket I couldn't shake off.

Randy broke away from my lips and went down on his knees, drifting his hot tongue teasingly along the length of my shaft. It felt really, really good, and my whole body shuddered in response, but my skin was starting to burn from the water.

I tried to open my mouth and speak, but it was hard to form the words. It came out as a faint whisper, "Randy is so hot."

I didn't think that was what I meant to say, but when I tried to speak again, I got stuck forming the words again. Randy came back up to look me in the eyes, his voice sounding odd as he asked, "John?"

That voice wasn't Randy's, but it was coming from his mouth. I became confused, wondering why my body felt like it was on fire.

"John?" a warm hand grasped my shoulder and shook me awake.

I sat up and blinked a few times, trying to analyze my surroundings. I was still in the arena, probably the cafeteria section because of the strong smell of food and the fact that I was sitting at a picnic-style table. I looked up and saw Daniel Bryan, and I instantly recognized that the voice from my dream was his.

"Did you just say that Randy is hot?" Bryan asked me curiously.

I wasn't really sure what I had said, so I mumbled, "No, I think I said, 'Man, damn, it's hot.'"

"Oh. Weird," Bryan replied quietly.

"Where's Gabriel?" I rubbed one eye, trying to remember what had happened since Randy gave Punk the RKO.

"He said he had to go get somebody. He said you were sick and he wanted me to stay with you in case Punk tried to bother you," Bryan explained.

I nodded and mumbled weakly, "Oh."

My body still felt like it was on fire. The wet feeling from my dream was still on my clothes, and I realized I had been sweating to the point of being nearly drenched. Bryan sat down across from me and looked me over carefully, mentioning, "You don't look so good, Cena."

"I don't feel so good, either," I groaned.

Bryan stood up again, saying quickly, "I'll grab you some food and a drink. Gabriel said you should eat."

Eating sounded like the last thing I wanted to do, but my stomach started grumbling anyway, and Bryan was already fixing me a plate, so I didn't bother to argue. I rubbed my eyes again and tried to remember how I got to the cafeteria and when I fell asleep, but everything was just a blur swirling around in my head.

Swirling. Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick.

I suddenly glanced around in search of Randy. I wanted him to be near me. I vaguely remembered that he had walked off after he gave Punk the RKO, but where did he go? I had no clue. I wanted him, though, and I wanted him now.

My cell phone. Where's my cell phone?

I searched all of my pockets before I remembered that I had left it in my bag in the locker room. It seemed like a long and horrendous distance to try and get to it. Bryan re-appeared in my line of vision with a plate of food and a giant cup of water. I picked up the cup and surveyed it, recognizing the design as a WWE collector's cup, and my face was staring back at me.

"Sorry, that's all they had," Bryan dismissed the cup.

I snorted a laugh and replied quietly, "I always thought the cups were the coolest part of our merchandise. They're way too expensive, though."

Bryan chuckled in response, and I turned the cup so I could see Randy's face. I started wanting him again, so I asked Bryan as innocently as possible, "Where's Orton?"

"I'm not sure. Last time I saw him, he was barreling down the hallway, so I just moved out of his way and didn't say a damn word," Bryan informed me.

All sense of hope left me and I tried to turn my focus onto the food.

Chips. Hamburger. Something...green. Ugh...green...

"That's just some spinach leaves," Bryan pointed to the green thing, adding quickly, "I know you're not a vegetarian, but I think it's important to have at least one fruit or vegetable with every meal."

I nodded, but reached for the chips first. They tasted like barbeque and they went down pretty easy. I practically sucked down the water in my collector's cup, and Bryan refilled it three times before I had finished all but the green on my plate.

Green...I'm gonna throw up...green...throw up...green...throw up...

"Do you want me to just take the plate?" Bryan must've seen the desperation on my face.

"Oh God, yes," I shoved the plate aside as quickly as I could and downed the rest of my water in one gulp.

Bryan trashed the plate and came back, asking me, "You want another refill? You're sure guzzling that water down fast."

"Yeah. Refill, I mean," I handed the cup to him.

"JONATHAN!" I heard the most annoying voice in the world boom from behind me.

The food had energized me, but I still felt weak enough that I didn't want to deal with Punk's rage. I kept my head down and waited for him to come to me. Bryan stood at the ready, although he looked like a dope with the big collector's cup still in his hand.

Punk slapped his hands against the table and leaned in so closely to my face, I could smell the decaf on his breath as he asked me in a mock-kind tone, "Where pray tell, is your B.F.F. Randal?"

I had no intention of pissing off Punk further, but the truth serum had not completely worn off yet, and since I didn't know where Randy was, I asked the question that was on my mind, "What's B.F.F.? Best Fucking Friends?"

Bryan turned his head to one side and stared at me like he thought I might be having a stroke. Punk laughed dryly but ignored my question, saying instead, "If you don't know where he is, then I'll ask Danny Boy here."

Punk turned his attention to Bryan, stating boldly, "Tell me, Nexus reject, where can I find Mr. Orton?"

"Fuck you," Bryan answered defiantly.

Punk pressed his palms together and said passively, "I guess everyone's on the subject of fucking nowadays."

He refocused on me and explained, "You are going to get up and follow me. We are going to look for Randal. You would like to know where he is, wouldn't you?"

I did want to know. I nodded despite myself, but Bryan tried to keep Punk from influencing me as he shouted, "You're not going anywhere with Cena!"

Punk turned to Bryan to say something spiteful, but the cafeteria door opened again and I turned around to see Wade coming in. He walked over to us and said strongly, "Tha's enough, Punk."

"What? I haven't even done anything yet," Punk put his arms out and mocked innocence.

Wade stood tall just inches from Punk and stated again, "Enough."

There was a moment of silence where the two just stared at each other, then Punk made a wicked half-smile and said, "You think you're the real boss around here, don't you?"

"Wha'?" Wade barked, but Punk ignored him, shouting, "I don't like you, Wade. I've decided that our co-existence is just a matter of co-dependence, with you depending on me. Your fired from The Nexus, Wade. I'm taking over as the new leader."

Scoffing, Wade replied shortly, "An' just who is goin' to back you up on this? Nexus is my plan. Tha' means they follow my orders, not yours."

"You may not have noticed much, but your Nexus has joined my ranks since you betrayed them and started giving a shit about what happens to Cena," Punk pointed at me.

I looked at Wade, but he didn't dare look at me. I looked back at Punk and he continued, "Nexus knows that you're helping Cena because you're afraid of Randy and you want to impress your heartbroken former fuck-buddy, Gabriel. By the way, I made sure Gabriel's painkillers were laced with drugs because I wanted him to to fear you. I knew he'd run to Cena and you'd chase after him and it would all lead up to this moment, when I could fire you and have Orton, Cena and Gabriel all to myself!"

Wade grabbed Punk by the throat, but Punk reacted fast and slipped out of Wade's grip, jerking his head forward as Punk and Wade's skulls cracked together.

"SHITE!" Wade cried out, grabbing his broken nose as he fell backward onto the floor.

"What the fuck?" Bryan shouted, totally confused by Punk's words as well as his actions.

Punk took a cheap shot and connected with Bryan's jaw. Bryan hit the floor and passed out cold. Punk grabbed me by the arm and pulled me to my feet, seething into my ear, "Follow me outside or I will pump you with more drugs."

I was still reeling from the last dose, and I was sure someone would see us before we made it out of the arena, so I followed Punk's lead, waiting patiently for an opportunity to stop him.

We went through a series of hallways, and I looked around carefully as we passed, completely confident that someone, anyone would come out and see us.

I was hoping for another wrestler, but I would take just about anyone who could run fast enough to get help. A Diva. An announcer. A referee. That guy with the headphones and clipboard that heels like Miz and Sheamus shove off-camera during live shows...

But there was no one around. Punk had conveniently picked the only hallways that were totally absent of human beings.

Fuck my luck.

We took the truck entrance to get outside, and Punk led me to his car. He opened the passenger door and told me, "Get in."

"No," I shook my head and stepped back.

Punk rolled his eyes at me and sighed like I was being a difficult child. He explained shortly, "I'm not going to do anything to you and I won't fill you with drugs. I just need to cruise around with you for a while for the sake of leverage, now get in the car."

I may be running on only half my wits at the moment, but I still wasn't stupid enough to get into Punk's car.

"Dammit, Cena, get into the FUCKING CAR!" Punk yelled.

I saw something move behind Punk, and I looked up just as a shadow in a trench coat and a black brimmed hat grabbed Punk by the back of his neck. The shadow slammed Punk's head into his own car, knocking Punk out as his body thudded against the pavement.

The shadow stepped into the light and reached out his biker gloved hand to me, saying to me in a familiar graveling voice, "Come with me, John Cena."

I had to blink a few times to realize it was The Undertaker, or Mark, as I knew him. I became confused, wondering why the most prominent member of the Smackdown roster was standing in the RAW parking lot, reaching out a helping hand to me. A random thought came to mind, and I said aloud, "I didn't think I was really that sick, but if I'm being asked to walk with The Undertaker...wait a minute! Mark? Are you the real undertaker?!"

He rolled his eyes and stated, "Of course not, John, you're not that sick. Then again, after what you just said, I'm beginnin' to question how bad off Randy told me you'd be..."

"Randy? Where is he?" I blurted.

Mark held out his gloved hand to me again and instructed me, "Focus, John. Come with me."

"Okay," I said, taking hold of his wrist.

Mark led me through the parking lot until we reached a black truck on the other side. He told me to get in, then he drove us away from the arena.

"Where are we going?" I asked, confused.

"It doesn't matter. We just need to get you safe," Mark told me.

I leaned back and my eyes started to droop. I mentioned before I drifted off, "Don't listen to me if I talk about Randy in my sleep."

"It's okay, kid, I already know," Mark's voice faded as I lost consciousness.