Chapter 20 – Saying Goodbye

I know it's pretty short, but bare with me, I do have a life outside of this site. Since this is a short chapter I'll put up another one within the next 2-3 days if I'm not too busy. Thank you all for your patience, we're nearing the end of this story and I'm sad to see it coming to an end. It should be finished by the new year, but patience is a virtue, so I might make you wait even longer. But, either way, I promise you a sequel, it might take a while to get started, and unlike this fic, I'm not gonna put it up until I've finished writing it and actually know where I'm headed with that.
If you like any of my stories head on over to the WWE Library Fanfic awards. www. libraryawards.wwe library. org / without all the spaces.
Tears fell from everybody's eyes. From SmackDown to Raw, Diva's to Super Heavyweights, to Cruiserweights, from General Manager's to the Ring Crew, all employees of the WWE and friends of Amy and John were present at the burial.

Eddie Guerrero and Rey Mysterio had finally settled their differences – if only for one day – and it was a good change to not have them at each other's throats, even if the one day that they could control their emotions did have to be the funeral of her twins.

"I know this is hard, Mamacita," Eddie started, his hand clasped on her bony shoulder. "Yeah." Rey agreed, his hands deep in his pockets, big brown eyes downcast. "I know how hard and painful it was for me and Angie when she lost our child, and because of that, me and my wife can never have children again, and if she does fall pregnant," Rey stopped, big brown eyes full of tears, "she won't ever be able to carry a baby to full term. Just be thankful that you can have more kids" Rey finished, walking away with Eddie, just as John was walking towards the redhead.

They had good-naturedly assumed that he was in need of comfort, albeit that was further from what he had planned than anything else.

John Cena had walked right past all of them in a flurry, walking straight to his convertible car, just as the two tiny coffins were being lowered into the ground.

Amy broke down into tears, as her husband sped off and her two babies were put straight into the ground.

Jay Reso – better known as Christian – made his way from the other side of the graveyard, hands in his pockets, putting his arms around the redhead's shoulders in a tight embrace. "Amy," Her name came out on a sigh. "I know this is hard for you," he said, gently rubbing small circles on her back, "but you're not the only one, Trish lost her babies too, and not just once either," he continued, as the redhead sniffled, rubbing away her tears with her balled fist. "Thank you, Jay," she said, sincerely, as he placed a small kiss on her forehead.

"Are ya ready for another round?" Trish Stratus asked John Cena, her perfectly manicured eyebrows raised in what seemed to be a questioning look.

"Damn woman!" He exclaimed, already breathing in and out deeply from their last round of extracurricular activities. "Man…" he paused for a second, trying to catch his breath. "You got some serious stamina right there," he said, stretching his arms out, unkinking all the muscles as he did so.

"Hey…" she paused, pursing her lips for a moment, before continuing. "Besides, I'm just blessed is all. What can I say? In the immortal words of Triple H, I am just that damn good, I guess." She joked, placing her small hands on her bare hips. "Besides," she pouted for a split second, "you didn't seem to be complaining about it before, so why starts now?" She asked, slightly agitated.

"Hey," he put his hands up in mock defeat. "I ain't about to start complainin' coz of too much free lovin' any time soon." He assured her. " 'Sides," he continued, "what kind of idiot man would complain from too much sex from someone as experienced as you are?" he asked, chuckling half-heartedly.

Her hand lifted, almost of its own accord, and flew to slap him in the face.

Hard.

"FREE LOVE!" She asked, fully angered by now. "EXPERIENCED?" she asked rhetorically, fire burning in the depths of her dark eyes. "FREE MOTHER FUCKING LOVE!" She asked again, her hand flying up to slap him in the face again.

Even harder than the last time. And it hurt, like a bitch.

"All I am to you is free love? Man you must really think I'm some kind'a whore or somethin'…" she paused, her face flushing a bright, angry red. "Fuck you John Cena." She said, a perfectly manicured fingernail pointing towards the cream colored door.

"You may leave at any time." She offered, pulling a black push up bra over her bare chest, as he watched her, entranced as ever.

"That means get the fuck outta my house." She ordered, her voice screeching, as she pulled a pair of black panties over her legs.

Her cringed before turning on his heel quickly, and walked away, slamming the door as he walked out.

From expensive one-of-a-kind jerseys to Armani dress shirts and all of his size-12 shoes, dressy and otherwise all of his clothing items had been strewn all over the front lawn.

As he opened the door to his red Ferrari, his blue eyes widened in horror.

"What the FUCK is this?" He asked, as he was the large and ever-growing clump of clothes.

"You should have told me." She screamed, as the rain beat down on her body, mingling with salty tears.

"Told you what, you crazy bitch?" He asked, shrugging his shoulders and looking up at her.

"That you decided to impregnate Trish Stratus a few times, fuckwad." She finished, walking into the house, dripping wet.