For The Better
In reply to reviews:
Randy-John-lover – it was Carlito…he is so evil! The baby is ok…for now…muhahaha…but love always has its problems so we'll have to see how it will end. John got both Trish and Lita pregnant…hope that clears it up for ya. Thank you for the review.
Tiears – My fics are great…I had no idea…lol. I know what you mean, I didn't want to have to make her helpless, but if she wasn't the rescue wouldn't really have happened. She isn't as blind as she wants to be. Thank you for the review.
Myth – it's just about to get even darker… evil laugh
But John and Lita will be happy, Trish will end up happy too, but she will get what she deserves before I let her be happy. But trust me their baby will be happy and so will they. Thank you for the review.
"…baby or the mother…can't survive together…have to choose…nearly too late…decision has to be made…it's too late now…we can't save…we're sorry…baby's gone…tried all we could…there was no way we could save…" all the words blurred together in my head as my eyes filled with tears.
"…didn't even know…oh baby…so sorry…should have told me…I understand…I'm so so sorry…nothing you could do…couldn't save the baby…you don't have to talk about it…it's ok…don't cry…time wasn't right…why us?…try again if you want…never even got to hold…God…hurts so bad…need some food…get sick if you don't eat…" I kept going in and out of it…hearing only parts of sentences, trying to piece the words together.
"…need to stay…overnight observations the doctor said…" I heard and opened my eyes slightly, just enough to see a slightly blurred figure in the plastic chair next to my bed.
"J-Jay?" I asked, squinting my eyes a bit, trying to make sense of the figure, rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands.
"I'm here baby…it's ok…it'll all be ok in the end…" he trailed off, gently grasping my hand in his, stroking my hand gently with his.
"W-wha-what happened Jay? Why am I here? Where is my baby?" I asked, tears welling in my eyes, looking in his eyes for any sign of emotion.
His eyes widened. "I thought – you mean – so you don't know?" he asked, watching with eyes wide as saucers as I shook my head 'no'.
"God…this is hard…you – you lost your baby…you had a miscarriage when Snitsky threw you into the table…Kane came out too…the minute Snitsky got in the ring Kane came down…he tried to save you…tried to save the baby…but he couldn't, he was too late…Snitsky is a fucking monster and he doesn't deserve to live." My vision is blurry and hazy by now, from the tears threatening to fall from my eyes, but I don't care anymore, Gene Snitsky WILL get what he deserves and I will make sure of it.
"Tell Kane thank you…Snitsky will get what he deserves…I will personally make sure of that." I said, an angry fire running through my eyes.
My baby is gone now…I'm sure John will be pleased that now he can have his happy little family and I can go back to partying the nights away and sleeping with a different guy every night.
"You can go and change now, Stacy brought some of your clothes over." He said, turning his head to the side, standing and exiting, leaving me alone in the room, with nothing but my thoughts to comfort me.
I threw the hospital gown off my body and looked in the mirror. My stomach barely seemed to stick out and there was now no evidence of me even being pregnant.
My eyes filled with tears, which I blinked away, before giving in and letting the tears take over. My whole body shook with sobs and my knees buckled under my weight as I fell to the floor.
My hands shook and I stood up on wobbly jelly legs, pulling on a pair of loose-fitting black sweatpants that rested on my hips. I tied the dark grey drawstring loosely and pulled a black cotton tank top over my head, hands still shaky, eyes red-rimmed.
I pulled my long blonde hair to the side and tied it tightly with a black hair tie.
My eyes filled with tears as I picked my cell phone up and dialled the all-too familiar number with a shaky hand.
"What the fuck do you want Trish?" he asked harshly and I could almost feel him giving me a death glare.
"I-I just called to – to tell you that I – I'm not pregnant anymore – I had a miscarriage when Snitsky slammed me into the table on Raw. I hope you're happy Cena, you're finally getting what you wanted…no baby." I said, shoulders shaking with silent tears.
"I'm sorry but it's for the better…I assure you. This way you can follow your heart and we can forget 'bout what happened and move on with our lives, we can have our own separate families an' everything." His voice said, emotionless and cold.
For the better…that's how he had seen my miscarriage…my tears, my sadness. The loss of my baby was "all for the better", how the fuck could he say that? To say that me losing my baby was good, such a terrible thing to say…not only was it my baby but it was also his…and he doesn't even give a damn…
But I just want to bury my past with him – if you can even call it that – since he is more than eager to do so – if he hasn't done so already.
I slammed my little Motorola cell phone shut and threw it hard at the tiled floor of the bathroom, watching as it shattered and broke to what seemed like at least a million pieces.
I walked into the bathroom, sneaking past the shattered remnants of my cell phone.
I looked at my battered reflection and lifted the hem just slightly - ever so slightly so that I could just see my stomach.
Bruises lay every here and there and I glared at the reflection of them.
My small hands balled and turned into fists. I lifted one of my fists in the air and hurled it at the mocking mirror with all my might. The hardest punch I had ever delivered.
Shattered glass flew around me as I closed my eyes and shielded myself with my arms. I reopened my eyes a few minutes after, watching as the blood was starting to cake on my sore knuckles, almost entranced as the red dripped onto the sterile white floor of the bathroom.
I bent down with a twist of my knees and picked up a shattered fragment of glass, looking at my reflection in it.
I held it in my palm and let my fingers curl around it, then I enclosed my palm around it, letting my palm tighten every few seconds until it began to draw blood, when I let out a sharp, piercing scream like no other.
And out of nowhere my world turned to black.
"…concussion…only mild…bed rest…lots of it…going to have to stay here for observation…maybe a week…yes…that long…maybe some anti-depressants…not sure yet…showing some signs of depression…might harm herself…she's out of it…don't know when she'll able to take visitors…go home…eat…sleep…important for her to have somebody to lean on…therapist…yes…we agree…thankyou for your help Mr. Reso…" the words all melded together as I slipped in and out of consciousness.
A loud gasp and "She's awake…" I heard as my eyes snapped open and my small hands immediately went to my head and I winced ever so slightly as the smallest movement of my hand.
Of course I had taken worse beatings – much worse beatings – just never all at once.
Doctors made their way around me with small torches which they proceeded to shine in my eyes until I slapped their hands away.
"Get the fuck away from me assholes…give me those…those paper thingy's to sign…I wanna be discharged and right NOOOW." I yelled in anger.
"…had to be sedated…going to cause self harm…not safe…alone…"
"Put some fucking music on and stop talking about me when you think I'm dead, sedated, sleeping concussed…actually…just don't fucking talk about me at all assholes…do you fucking understand?" watching them nod in fear I quickly mumbled "that's what I fucking thought fuckers…" under my breath before telling them to get my the papers so I could discharge myself from this forsaken place.
I turned the television on and flipped it to Raw.
"John Cena has just WON the Heavyweight Championship from Triple H." King's voice boomed, a shocked tone to it.
"And I couldn't think of anybody better to hold that title." JR commented, a proud look shining in his eyes.
An image of John Cena flooded the screen. He was shirtless and wearing his traditional baggy jeans, holding the Championship high above his head with one hand, holding Lita's hand up in the air with his other hand.
He bent down and…
It all turned to black and tears fell from my eyes. My uninjured hand clenched the remote extremely tightly and I then threw it at the television, before slumping down and breaking down into a mass of black, white and blonde, mixed with tears and blood.
I guess maybe this all was for the better…
…but will I ever really know?