It was now later the next day, and after returning to the hotel following their visits with Stacy to get some sleep, Trish and Chris, sans Christian, who had opted not to join them, were back in the hospital. Chris had gotten word from John, who had remained there through the night and morning, that the doctors, though a bit leery, had decided to release Stacy that afternoon. She had been awake a full four hours when they'd made there decision, knowing there was nothing more they could do now that she'd fully regained consciousness.
The two blonde Canadians entered the lobby area of the hospital, scanning the room for any signs of John. Chris spotted him at the front desk, standing in the same spot he had the night before when he'd revealed his relation to Stacy, speaking to a nurse as he filled out some papers. He grabbed Trish by the arm, pointing across the room to him. They approached him side by side, and it wasn't till they reached John that he noticed who was just past him.
Chris's gaze softened as he stepped past Cena, leaving Trish behind to smile a hello to the young man. He stepped up to Stacy, a small frown crossing his features as he noticed the wheelchair she was seated in. He kneeled before her, very gently placing a hand on her knee. She looked so tiny, and so very fragile in that large metal contraption, that he was almost afraid to touch her.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his fear being replaced with concern.
Stacy shrugged, making a so-so gesture with her left hand. The other she used to place on top of his hand, entwining her fingers with his. She drew her gaze away from Chris for a moment, her brown eyes fixing on her older brother.
"He's treating me like I'm four," she muttered with an adorable pout. "I hate it."
Chris shot a glance in John's direction as the younger man hurriedly filled out Stacy's release papers, a task that could most likely be handled by Stacy herself.
"Nah, he's just being a big brother," Chris assured her with a smile. Stacy rolled her eyes, seemingly out of annoyance, but then she too succumbed to a grin. "You're lucky to have him, Stace," he remarked, shifting his weight to the left slightly as the opposite knee started to ache. Still smiling softly, Stacy nodded, locking eyes with the blonde man.
"I know," she replied, "almost as lucky as I am to have you."
Chris's grin widened instantly at her comment, more than pleased to hear just how much she appreciated him. Comparing him to John, a man who obviously meant the world to Stacy and had been there countless times for her during the past years, was not a difficult thing to take. He leaned in slowly, preparing to place a kiss on her forehead.
Stacy realized just what he was up to and titled her head back, so that when his lips finally made contact, they were brushing against her own. Chris jumped, startled by the feel of her soft lips on his. He pulled away for a second, wondering whether her action was intended or not. He got his answer when she leaned towards him, kissing him again, this time a bit more passionately. Chris was taken aback, but was far from complaining. Then, just as he was about to slip his tongue into her mouth, the sound of a throat being cleared cut through to his brain like a siren.
Chris turned around to meet the slightly skeptical gaze of John Cena. He looked down, trying to hide the reddening of his cheeks as he got flashbacks of being walked in on in high school. He opened his mouth to apologize, but what came out was a sound that could only be described as a squeak. John's expression changed instantly, and he laughed, shaking his head.
"Alright kids, knock it off," he said in a mock fatherly tone. "Come on, let's get the hell outta here."
* * * *
John watched from afar as Chris helped Stacy out of the wheelchair, holding tightly to the blonde woman as he guided her into the car. He had pulled the Canadian man to the side as they were leaving the building and asked that he take Stacy to the car and get her situated so he would have an opportunity to speak with Trish privately. As he turned back to the tiny diva beside him, she surprised him by taking his hand and pulling him to her, wrapping her arms around his neck. A puzzled look came across his face as he returned the embrace, his arms coming out to encircle her slender waist. He held her close, getting a whiff of her sweet smelling shampoo before he pushed himself away, eyeing her curiously.
"What was that for?" he asked. Trish's eyes locked with his for a second before a slightly bashful gaze took over her and her eyes drifted to the white pavement below them.
"I just..." she began, involuntarily sounding a bit timid. "I wanted to thank you." Her response only ceasing to further confuse him, John tilted his head to the side, his brow arching.
"For what?"
"Just... everything, John, everything you've done over the past day or so. You really took charge of the situation, like none of us would have been able to."
To be quite honest, John's take charge attitude was even more surprising to Trish than his revelation that he was Stacy's brother. It was the first time since meeting him that she'd seen him act so adult, so... mature. It was also the first time that she realized even John Cena had a heart. Seeing him in a such a worry over Stacy, and seeing the crushed look that had been etched on his face only a number of hours ago damn near broke her heart. Trish was beginning to see John in a light with which she never had before. When she looked at him now, she no longer saw the arrogant, self-centered, immature prick she once thought him to be. She found herself seeing a man who, despite having his moments, was a compassionate, well-meaning, daresay loving person. And as much as she wracked her brain for painful memories involving him, she couldn't comprehend how anyone, especially herself, could hate a man like that.
"I did what I had to do," John replied suddenly, cutting her
thoughts short. "Like I told you before, I gotta look out for Stace."
"I was so wrong about you," Trish spoke, disregarding the tiny voice in her head screaming to her that she shouldn't admit such things to him. Before she had a chance to elaborate, John put a hand up.
"Say what?" he questioned, his brow raising again at her very random comment. Seeing the skeptical look in his blue eyes, Trish shook her head, gripping his forearm gently.
"What I mean is, well... you know our relationship has been less than amicable in the past. I've always thought you were, for lack of a better term, a jerk. But after seeing the way you've handled this ordeal, and the way you've been treating Stacy, I must say that I owe you a huge apology. You're an amazing person, John, much more so than I'd ever imagined."
Though he was still unsure of where she was headed, a small smile played on John's lips. Trish stared at him for a moment, and the next this she knew she was standing on her tiptoes, planting a kiss on his lips. John once again found himself caught extremely off guard, but he couldn't keep himself from kissing her back, his hands settling on each of her hips. Their kiss was nothing like the ones from their previous encounters. It lacked none of the passion those kisses held, but there was something more, something that made it all the more special. There was true feeling behind this kiss, as opposed to the lust and physical attraction that had driven the others.
John found himself again sliding his tongue inside her mouth, half expecting one of Trish's typical protests, but there was no complaints from the blonde woman, who was returning the kiss with a fervor John wasn't aware she possessed. They stood that way for a while, wrapped in each others arms and locked in the slow, sensuous kiss, until a siren went off in his head. What the hell am I doing?
"Trish, stop," he said suddenly, breaking the kiss and pushing himself from her embrace. "We can't." Trish glanced up at him, unable to disguise the hurt in her eyes.
"What? What do you mean? John, it's okay," she insisted, making a grab for him.
He swatted her hand away, taking another step back lest she try to reach for him again. Her sad, pitiful, confused eyes, mixed in with her desperately reaching for him was nearly enough to make him break. He didn't think he could handle that.
"No, it's not. Every time we do this, someone ends up gettin' hurt and honestly, Trish, I don't think I could handle it again if it happens to be me. Maybe I should have stayed away in the first place, maybe not, but this just isn't gonna work. I'm really sorry I led you on, and I'm sorry that this has to end before it ever really started."
Trish took a step back, a surprised and extremely disappointed look on her pretty face. She was suddenly understanding how he must have been feeling as of late. How ironic that after all she had done to push him away in the beginning, *he* would was the one ultimately pushing *her* away. She blinked a few times, her eyes beginning to water. She couldn't lose him now... she had never even given herself a chance to begin with.
"John, please," she implored, her dark eyes begging. "I'm sorry for what happened, I'm sorry I walked out on you. I really think we could make this work if we just do things the right way. Please, John..."
"Trish, no," he cut her off, tossing his hands in the air. "Just... no. I'm sorry, too, but this... it's gotta come to an end."
With that said, he stepped forward and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers one last time. Breathing in deeply, John sighed and turned his back to her. The tears that had been welling in her eyes spilled over as he exhaled heavily and walked away, leaving her alone in the lifeless parking lot.