(A/N) Hey guys, sorry bout the long delay. Been sick for a while and I have been on a rugby tour for the last week. Will try to get the chapters up quicker next time. Enjoy!

Cena sat in a large, quite well furnished room. A crystal chandelier tinkled over head. Sitting opposite him was his lawyer. They were in Daniel's house.

"So tell me Cena, what were you doing at the time of the murder?" Daniel asked casually while sipping his whisky.

"Why do you need to know? Do you think I'm guilty too?"

"Look John. It doesn't matter what I think, my job is to help you get acquitted whether you are guilty or not. I just need to establish an alibi." Daniel reasoned.

Cena sat there thinking for a while. He then decided that he would have to trust his lawyer if he was any chance of going free. "Don't have an alibi. I was at the scene of the crime. But I didn't pull the trigger." Cena said.

"Well this makes things a little tricky. You could be charged as an accomplice. But anyway who did pull the trigger?"

"Can't tell. I never rat out anybody."

"Cena, it is crucial that we get the name of the shooter. Otherwise you are the key suspect and they will go at you hard. On the other hand, if you give the name of the actual shooter, I can cut you a deal and you will be home free." Daniel pleaded with his client.

"Well looks like I'm going to have to take my chances in the courtroom."

"Ok then. Fine. But do you at least have the murder weapon? That way we can compare your fingerprints to the ones on the gun, and when they don't line up, you will be safe."

"Yeah I still got the gun. But how do you know they won't match the prints to my boy?"

"Has he ever been convicted?"

"Nope."

"Well then he's safe as well."

"Ok, then it's settled. I'll go get my get out of jail free card. But there is one small problem. We can't just hand the gun to the cops. They will be suspicious as to why I even have the gun. They have to find it themselves." John observed.

"Don't you worry, I'll take care of that. What you have to do is hide the murder weapon somewhere in the crime scene, I'll remind the cops that they don't have a murder weapon. They will go looking, they will find it, and you get off unscathed."

"Hey detective! We found something." A crime scene investigator called out to Steve.

A large team were assembled at the crime scene well into the night. The CSIs with their flashlights roaming the dark alley. Detective Steve Marcy followed the CSI who called out to him. He was led to a dumpster well concealed in the shadows. He was shown a gun in a plastic bag.

"How did you not find it earlier?" Steve asked the CSI.

"I don't know. We searched this dumpster inside out."

"Never mind. Let's get it back to the lab. Once we match the prints to Cena's, he's gone."

"No match."

"What?"

"It's not a match." The man in the lab coat repeated.

"How is that possible? Could you have made a mistake?" Steve said perplexed.

"We checked it 5 times. The prints on the gun do not match Cena's prints."

"Are you sure it is the murder weapon then?"

"Ballistics said it is definitely the gun that killed Rick Jericho."

"DAMN IT! We had him. Two bloody months of profiling the son of a bitch gone down the drain."

"I'm sorry." The scientist said as he made his way out of the office."

Chris sat at home with a bottle of booze. His mother was asleep when the phone rang. Chris staggered off his chair to get to the phone.

"Huh." Chris grunted.

"Hello? This is detective Marcy. Is this Chris?"

"Yah, whadya want?" Chris said with a slur.

"I've got some unsettling news. I'm afraid John Cena did not kill your brother."

"Huh?"

"We found the murder weapon, the prints on the gun do not match Cena's. I'm sorry."

"Yeah ok." Chris said, slowly snapping out of his drunkenness.

"Are you going to be alright?" Steve asked.

"Yeah. Fine. Bye." Chris said abruptly as he ended the conversation. Chris slouched back to the chair and collapsed into it. His intuition had been right. Shawn was the one who killed Rick. But he had no intention of letting the cops know that. He was going to take care of business himself. He got up off his chair, and went to the kitchen counter. He opened the drawer and picked up the gun he hid in there. He was checking the clip when his mother walked in on him.

"What are you doing with that Chris?" She asked.

"Go back to sleep mom."

"Chris don't you dare. You already broke your promise. Don't you dare break my heart."

"I said go back to sleep." He said again. Chris turned his back on his mother and walked towards the door.

"CHRIS! NO! PLEASE DON'T!" His mother shrieked as she ran and grabbed his arm.

Chris continued to walk, dragging his mother behind him.

"CHRIS! I'M BEGING YOU! DON'T DO THIS TO ME!" She pleaded desperately.

With one swift motion, Chris pulled his mother towards him, and then shoved her away, sending her sprawled out on the floor. She started crying.

"Pl..pl…please don't…don't do thi…this to m..m…m…me. Please." She said between sobs.

Chris stood there, surveying what he had just done.

"Go back to sleep." The emotion drained from his voice and injected into his eyes. Chris left the house and his hysterical mother.

Cena had been released from custody and was taking a cab back to his house. When he got there, he noticed his girlfriend's car parked in the driveway.

"What was she doing at his house" Cena wondered.

John opened the door to his house. He peered in cautiously. Everything had been turned around. His place was a mess. He shut the door behind him as he walked into his lounge room. It was even worse than his hallway. Torrie was sitting in a chair in the lounge area. Her eyes were red and makeup ran down her cheeks. She looked up at him, with pure venom in her eyes.

"Are you alright honey?" Cena asked as he approached her cautiously.

"Don't you dare take another step you bastard." Torrie spat back softly, her usually warm voice laced with resentment.

John stopped dead in his tracks. He stared into his girlfriends eyes, and knew something was seriously wrong.

"What is it? Why are you acting like this?" John enquired.

"YOU DAMN WELL KNOW JOHN! YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Torrie exploded. John took a step back, surprised by the shrillness in her voice.

"YOU LIED TO ME YOU BASTARD! YOU TOLD ME YOU HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH RICK JERICHO'S MURDER YOU LYING PRICK!" She raged on.

"Woah woah woah, hold up there honey. What do you mea…"

"Don't you call me honey. I found the god damn drugs. I found the money. You bastard, you killed a man, at least have the guts to own up to it."

"I didn't kill him. I swear." John pleaded, but it was too late. Torrie was really pissed.

"I can't believe you. You are dripping with guilt and you're still lying out of your nose. It's over John. If you can't be honest with me, then I'm through with you." Torrie said as she began to walk past John.

"Torrie please wait." John began as he grabbed Torrie's arm. Torrie turned to face him and spat right in his face. John recoiled and released his grip.

"Make no mistake, I did love you John. And for that, I did not turn you in. But if you ever get so much as a speeding ticket, the truth just might come pouring out of me." Torrie threatened as she left the house, leaving a heartbroken John to sort out the mess in his house, and in his life.

Chris was pushing 120 in his car when his mobile phone rang. He slowed down a fraction to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Hey Chris, it's me, Adam."

"Hey. What's going on?

"Nothing. Hey how are you? Alright?" Edge asked.

"Dude, it's been two months ok?" Referring to his brothers killing. "I'm fine, don't worry about me." Chris said, but with obvious strain in his voice.

"You don't sound alright. Hey, are you driving? Where are you going Chris?"

"Um…To the supermarket. Can't talk now, I'll talk to you later."

"Chri…" Edge started but Chris had hung up on him.

Egde put the phone down and turned to face Mark.

"I think he's about to do something really stupid." Edge said with genuine concern in his voice.

"Did he say where he was off to?" Mark asked.

"He said to the supermarket, but that's a load of crap. Who the hell goes to the market at this time of night?" Edge remarked skeptically.

"I think I know where he might be heading off to. We gotta stop him before he gets there, or he's fucked."

"Why? Where is he going?" Edge started but there was no response from Mark. He already had his coat on and he grabbed his gun which he left on the table of Rick's office.

"C'mon, no time now. Let's go."

Chris slowed to a crawl and eased his car into a parking spot on the side of the street. He threw on his coat as he walked out onto the street, his eyes staring intently on his target. He walked up the sidewalk and up to a yellow brick house. Shawn Michael's house. Chris thought of how he was going to make Shawn scream for mercy. He pictured in his head, what he was going to do to the wretched scumbag. He walked up to the door and peered into the window next to the door. No lights were on that he could see. He took of his coat, wrapped it around his elbow, and as gently as he could, smashed the window. He reached in, unlocked the deadbolt and the lock. Chris pulled out his gun and slowly made his way into the house. It was pretty dark inside, but the light from the full moon gave a little illumination through the windows. Chris cautiously and quietly treaded into the house. He walked into the living room, gun at the ready, eyes doing a brisk scan of the area. No sign of Michaels yet. Chris made his way across the living room towards the bedroom. Chris looked to his side at the wall. The moon light shone brightly here and reflected his shadow on the white wall. Chris then saw another shadow appear behind him. He spun around with his gun raised. Something hard hit him in the forehead and knocked him clean off his feet. Chris sank into unconsciousness.

When Chris opened his eyes, his head still hurt like hell. He blinked a couple of times, to get his eyes accustomed to the lights. He observed his surroundings and found that he was in a hospital. His friend Adam stood over him.

"Hey buddy." Edge said.

"Mmmmpph." Chris grunted in acknowledgement.

"You got busted open pretty bad, nine stitches across the forehead."

"Have I been out for long?" Chris enquired.

"About 3 hours since me and Mark found you. What the hell were you thinking going after Michaels all by yourself? You know I would have had your back. Why didn't you tell me about him?"

"I didn't want to drag you into this."

"That's no bloody excuse." Edge said, his face showing frustration, but then softened, his visage flushed with sympathy.

"He got away didn't he?" Jericho enquired, even though he sort of knew the answer already.

"Yeah. He did. But I got some worse news." Edge said, his face now looking really concerned. He shifted is feet and stared at the ground uneasily.

"What? What could be worse than the son of a bitch getting away with what he did?" Chris said angrily.

"Chris…brace yourself."

"What? What is it Adam?" Chris asked.

"Chris, your mom killed herself. The neighbours heard screaming. After they saw you leave the house they went to check on her, they found her empty pill bottle in her hand. The cops just told me a few minutes ago. I'm really sorry."

(A/N) Lot's of major developments! My longest chapter yet I think. Hope you liked it. Well I think that is about it for the flashbacks. I hope I covered everything. If I missed some loose ends, tell me and I'll fit them in later. Peace.