Chapter Thirty Five Disclaimer: This is a mature fan fiction, intended for mature readers. This story contains adult situations, some consensual and some not, and adult language, among other things. Some of this is not appropriate for younger readers. Also, I make no claims to any WWE Superstars and/or Divas, past or present. Honestly, if I owned them, I most certainly wouldn't be WRITING about them, ha! I only own a select number of characters in this story, created off the top of my head; the rest are all their own property. Thank you for opting not to sue.
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The following afternoon, after going through another bout of morning sickness, Chris finally managed to coerce his wife into showering and getting dressed before they missed their flight back to Florida. After some persuading (and more comforting, as Krys had suffered early bouts of mood swings), he finally managed to get her out of the hotel and onto the plane.
While they were settled in on the plane, Krys took on yet another symptom that had Chris fairly convinced that she was expecting their fourth child together: she was sleeping excessively. He took one look over at her sleeping form, her head propped up on his shoulder, the only thing separating them was a thin airline pillow, and reached behind his head, grabbing his own airline pillow and propping it up behind her neck. At his touch, she stirred slightly, a smile touching her features, and she snuggled closer to him. He smiled down at her contented form, a smile of his own forming, and he bent down to press a feather light kiss to her forehead before turning back into his own seat and turning his attention to the book he had brought aboard with him for the long flight.
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Within a few hours' time, the plane had touched down and made a landing in the Sunshine State. As everyone disembarked, Krys started to make her way off the plane, following her husband. As they weaved their way to the baggage claim, Chris grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Don't worry; I scheduled an appointment with your doctor for tomorrow, and as soon as we're all unpacked and you're feeling better, we can get home to Kelly and the bugs."
Krys gave him a weak smile, fearing that if she did something more, she would be hit by a pang of mood swings and have either a temper tantrum or a crying fit and run off somewhere. Thankfully, Chris understood and smiled back. "I should be back to normal by tonight at the most," she said back. "Maybe we can give Kel a break from the stove and the telephone and just take everybody out to Olive Garden or Friendly's for dinner?"
"Good idea. As soon as we're in the car, I'll call Kel and let her know." Chris squeezed her hand again, then spotted their bags. He grabbed their gear bags, then looked around for a cart. Spotting one a bit of a walk away, he turned to Krys and gave her another boyish grin. "I just spotted a cart. Wait here while I go grab it, okay?"
"No problem. I promise not to have any mood swings the three seconds you're gone, okay?" she added sarcastically with a smirk on her face. Jericho rolled his eyes, then turned and made his way over to where he had spotted the cart only a minute earlier. As Krys stood at the baggage claim rack, she spotted hers and Chris' suitcases and made to grab them, but before she could, a pair of hands reached forward and grabbed them from her. She opened her mouth to tell the man that those were her bags, when she turned right into the gaze of John Cena.
"We just keep running into each other, don't we, Krys?" he commented, a smile lighting up his face.
Krys couldn't help but give him a tired smile in return. "You okay?" he asked, his smile faltering slightly. "You don't look so good."
"Yeah, it's just… Unfortunately in my delicate state, I'm prone to sudden jolts that turn my stomach and send me running for the nearest bathroom," she said back, pressing a hand to her now clammy forehead. At Cena's confused expression, she sighed, and said, "Chris and I think I'm…pregnant…again," she added as an afterthought.
For a moment, she saw that Cena got a slightly panicked look to his face, before it vanished, and replaced by a look of surprise. "Well, hey, that's great. I mean, congratulations and whatnot… How far along are you?"
"Well I can't tell for sure, since we're only speculating at this point, but Chris thinks I might be around the two or three month mark."
"Speaking of Chris, where is Mister King of the World?" he inquired, looking around. If Krys didn't know any better, she could have sworn that Cena was only looking around so her husband wouldn't catch him trying to put the moves on her. "I would've thought that the hubby wouldn't be too far away from his darling, innocent wife, keeping an eye on you to make sure mean old Cena doesn't get his grubby little paws on you."
Krys sighed, annoyed by his mocking tone. "If you must know, Cena, he's getting a cart to carry all these bags and stuff. He's getting overprotective already. I don't know whether to be happy, excited, or concerned about this pregnancy… I just…I don't know…" Almost instantly, she was hit by another wave of nausea, and she excused herself, rushing off to find the nearest bathroom. Almost as soon as Krys disappeared from view, Cena found himself being jerked around to face a suddenly angry Chris Jericho.
"What the hell did you say to my wife, Cena?" Jericho demanded, his blue eyes flashing dangerously. Cena merely smirked at the blonde.
"Before you get up on your little high horse, Jericho, she just got sick. Kinda like she's going to be sick of you soon. Now, I have to get running, but I'll be seeing you—and her—soon enough. Take care." Cena strutted off past Jericho, patting him mockingly on the shoulder. As soon as he was out of Jericho's sight, Cena exhaled a sigh.
She's pregnant?