(A/N) Hey guys. My holidays have started so I should be able to get chapters up pretty fast over the next two weeks. I'll be spending quite a bit of time at the commomwealth games so don't expect too much. Anyway on with the story…

News had spread fast within the New York underground community. The actual facts had been twisted and reshaped so much, that the truth was lost somewhere within the lies. John Cena is dead. No he's alive. He was hit by a car. He was shot. He fell down the stairs. It didn't matter what version Torrie got, her heart sank the minute she heard that John was hurt. She wasn't sure if Hunter was in on it, but she wanted to see John, just to find out for herself if he was still alive. She went to all the major hospitals in search of him. The first two were a miss, but Bellevue Hospital was a hit.

"He's in room 109. First floor, on the left." The receptionist told Torrie.

She thanked the lady and walked over to the lift.

The door to John's room was closed. She was just about to open it when she stopped herself.

Why was she feeling so apprehensive? Was she afraid to see John so frail and helpless? Whatever it was, she had to get a grip. She was squeezing the doorknob so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Torrie took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. The wooden door gave a little creak when it opened. She stepped into the room. It's smelled heavily of antiseptic. A curtain obscured her view of what she assumed to be John's bed. The steady 'beep' of the life support machine creeped her out. Wanting to get it over with, she walked over to the curtain and yanked it away almost violently. She gasped at the sight of John, heavily bandaged around the torso. Hooked up to a number of different machines. His complexion was ghost white. Eyes squinted closed, brows slightly furrowed. It looked as though he was in pain, even though he was clearly unconscious.

"Excuse me miss." A voice called out from behind her. She spun around to face the doctor who called out to her.

"Only family members allowed. I'm sorry but you'll have to leave."

Torrie turned back to look at John. He looked so frail. He needed her with him right now, in his moment of need. But just as much, she needed him as well.

"I'm his wife." Torrie answered with her back to the doctor.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize you two were engaged. I didn't see a ring on Mr. Cena's finger so I assumed…"

"He doesn't like to wear his ring. His line of work demands a lot of physical activity." Torrie answered in an almost trance like tone. "How is he?"

"Well… he was stabbed multiple times in the back. Luckily none of his vital organs were touched. He lost a massive amount of blood though. He is still in critical condition." The doctor answered.

"Will he make it?"

"I can't say for certain. To be totally honest with you, he's got a fifty fifty shot. I'm sorry that that is all I can give you at the moment."

"Thank you." Torrie said. She was sitting next to the bed now, her hand clasping John's.

"I'll give you two some privacy." The doctor said. He turned and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

"Why do you always have to get yourself involved in situation's you can't control?" She asked John. She didn't care that he couldn't hear her. She couldn't care about anything else right now. For some reason, she felt happy, just being next to John. She felt safe and secure, even though John was in no state to protect her, just being next to him made her feel protected.

"We should have been married John. We should have had kids together. Me and you. I would stay at home, look after the kids, send them to school, pack their lunches. You would have quit your stupid gang, got a good decent job, and come home every night back to me. We would have been a family John. Why do you do this to me? You know I love you. You know I still do. So why do you keep running away?" She was crying now. She knew that everything she just said was only a dream. A desperate grasp at hope. She knew deep down inside, that it would never be a reality, no matter how much she longed for it. And as she cried, she didn't realize that John, as if answering her, gave her hand the slightest of squeezes.

It was almost dark. Dave had tried to think his way out of his predicament all day, and only one solution came to mind. Since Shawn didn't want him, he was going to try Chris. Dave picked up the phone and dialed Chris' office number. Someone picked up, but it wasn't Jericho. The voice was familiar. More gruff than Chris' voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi…Um… Is Chris there?" Dave asked.

"Nope."

"Do you know where he is?"

"Your guess is as good as mine at the moment. Who is this by the way?"

"This is Dave. Who is this? Dave asked back.

"Dave? Batista? What the hell do you want with Chris?" Dave suddenly realized who he was speaking to.

"Edge? Is that you?" He asked the man who he had beat in Hunter's underground fight competition earlier on.

"Yes. Now answer my question. What the fuck do you want?"

"I need to talk to Chris. Urgently."

"About what?" Edge queried.

Dave was in no position to tell Adam to fuck off and put Chris on, so he tried to be as polite as possible.

"It is kind of private. Yet extremely urgent. I need to talk to him."

"Anything you have to say to him, you can say to me buddy. So spill, or else this conversation is over."

"Wait! Don't hang up. I'll tell you." Dave was getting seriously desperate. "I need to join Chris' gang."

"Wow. Big bad Batista sounds distressed."

"Look Edge. We've had our differences in the past. But I'm willing to leave them behind. I need you to tell Chris' I want to join him. Please."

Silence on the line.

"I'll tell him when I see him." Edge said after contemplating the decision. Although they were enemies in the past, they had a mutual respect for each other and Dave was counting on this respect to save his life.

"Bail will be set at 2 million dollars." The harsh sound of the judge's hammer ringed in Jericho's ears. He was led out of the courtroom by the bailiff as the judge casually went on to the next case.

Chris was at a loss of words. The past few days were just such a blur, from the minute the cops busted into his house, until now, everything was a messy blur of recent events and past memories. There was nothing left to live for. Nothing left to lose.

Apparently the office of public prosecutions had enough evidence to convict him of two stabbings he did not commit. He wouldn't be surprised if they got their conviction either. The American legal system was just that reliable. It didn't matter though. He couldn't care less. Chris had planned it all out already. The first night in prison, while Chris's body was still pumping with adrenalin, his mind still clear, was when he hatched his plan to kill Shawn.

Chris was a man on a mission. A deadly desire for vengeance which had been building inside him for months. And now that everything that ever meant something to him was gone, he was going to get his revenge.

Chris used his one phone call to phone his own office in his club. He was banking on someone reliable to answer the phone. Someone he could trust. He got his wish.

"Hello?" Answered the man in Chris' office.

"Adam? Is that you?" Chris said, instantly recognizing the voice.

"Chris? Where the hell are you man?"

"I'm in jail. Where are you?" Chris asked. He was too excited to hear his best friends voice to realize he already knew the answer to his stupid question.

"I'm at the club man. Where the hell do you think. Wait… Jail? What the fuck?"

"I'm being accused of stabbing John and Eddie." Chris told Adam.

"Yeah. I heard about that. And they are pinning that shit on you?"

"Yup. Just my luck huh. Hey listen, there is no time for small talk. I need you to do me a favor."

"Yeah of course. Anything." Edge answered eagerly.

"Have you pulled the plug on our operation?" Chris asked.

"Nope. I just got the hell out when I heard about John. Shawn is in charge now. But I got out before he could get at me."

"Son of a bitch! I bet it was Shawn that stabbed Cena."

Chris thought things over for a second.

"Hey Chris, you still there?"

"Yeah. Listen, I need you to sell everything. My house, my clubs, my car, everything."

"What? Why?" Adam was taken aback by Chris' extreme demand.

"I need you to gather together 2 million dollars." Chris said.

"2 million dollars! What the hell for?"

"My bail money. I'm coming out."

"Coming out to what? If I sell everything you'll have nothing to come out to."

"It doesn't matter. The way I see it, I won't be spending much time out anyway." Chris said grimly. He paused for a moment, making sure that this was what he really wanted to do. But it wasn't about what he wanted to do, it was about what he needed to do. "Just do it for me, and quick."

"Alright." Adam said solemnly. There was no point in arguing with Chris. He had his mind made up. "By the way, I think I outghta tell you this before I forget. Dave Batista called here earlier. Said he wanted to join your gang. I told him to piss off but he was persistent. So I told him I would tell you about it. Said you would call him back. Probably not important but just thought I'd let you know he is interested."

"Ok. Thanks." The last thing Chris needed was another thing to think about. He would have to give this Batista issue a back seat in his mind while he sorted everything out first. Besides, Chris wouldn't even have a gang soon, once he sold all his clubs. He would have nothing.

"Back to the issue at hand. I need you to tell one of Cena's closest friends that I'm coming out. I'm assuming Shawn hasn't told anyone that it was him that picked off Cena so everyone will still think it's me. I need it to stay like that."

"What the hell are you planning Chris?" Adam asked. He was a little wary at all of these strange requests.

"You will find out in due time." Chris answered vaguely.

Silence descended on the line. A moment which would usually be racked with tension if it were between two regular friends was shared between Chris and Edge. Accept, it wasn't nerve racking between these two men. Because they were beyond friends. The respect and mutual understanding that Chris and Adam had build up over the years overshadowed any tension that would usually be there.

"Hey Chris. You know you can count on me don't you?" Adam finally said.

"Of course. That's why I'm asking you to do this for me. Cause I know you will do it without questioning my motives. Now one last thing. Once you've got the money rounded up, give it to my lawyer who will bail me out. I need you to stay at home and wait for my phone call for further instructions. Got it?"

"Yes." Edge answered.

"Good."

"Hey Chris. Now it's my turn to make a request."

"What?"

"What ever kind of stupid stunt you are about to pull, I want you to count me in. Don't leave me out of it. Promise?"

Chris thought about the request for a while. Initially, Adam actually wasn't going to be part of his plan. He didn't want him to get hurt. His plan was after all, extremely dangerous and he wasn't counting on coming out of it alive or free. But since Adam was doing all this for him without question, he had to grant him his one wish.

"Yes alright."

"Promise?"

"Yeah, I promise."

"Alrighty then. I guess I'll see you later." Adam said.

"Yeah. Till next time. "

Chris hung up the phone. He stood up and the guard grabbed him and hustled him back to his cell.

Sitting in his cell, Chris realized that there was no turning back now. His plan had been set into motion and he was at the point of no return. Right there and then, Chris swore an oath to his enemy.

"I promise you now Shawn. One of us is going to die at the hands of the other. And I'll be damned if it's me."

(A/N) Soooo… some mushy stuff in the beginning of the chapter between John and Torrie. I know quite a few of you wanted that. Plus, what is Chris' big plan. Will it work? Tune in next time.