Adam Copeland woke up with a start, yet an aggravating one. Nearly breaking the hotel in North Carolina's small alarm clock. Yet he still had a smile on his face, life was good, after the other night, he was now confident that Lita would, well he laughed to himself…be on her best behavior.

Back in Pennsylvania

Lita woke up with a killing sore that was her whole body. She was aching and about to burst for the fact that every move she made anywhere on her body was like having someone punch a very bad throbbing bruise.

But she knew that she had to get up, the roster wasn't staying long in Pennsylvania, but it didn't matter much to her, she was actually on her way to talk with Mr. McMahon about not appearing for hopefully no longer than two shows.

She sighed heavily to herself, knowing the great sacrifice in having to skip because she was officially nastily bruised all over.

Lita nearly choked on the lump that was building in her throat.

Meanwhile in John Cena's hotel room across the hall

John Cena was lying awake in bed, and had been for a while, he had to face it, and he honestly hadn't slept much all night. He had that nagging feeling in the back of his mind sending him terrible feelings like he should've followed Lita to her room, or at least something to make sure that she was okay.

But he didn't, and half the reason for him and his no sleep was that he didn't.

Something wouldn't let him, something, just something, yesterday as he walked back up stairs after his talk with Lita, where he should've turned a few steps and knocked on her door to make sure that everything was alright. But no, he turned the few the other way and walked towards his door, and he entered, and lay on his bed…wonder why.

Down in the cafeteria

The cafeteria was pretty crowded, full of talkative, and mostly hungry wrestlers, and such cast and crew.

Lita entered slowly, she was wearing over sized white rimed sunglasses, with a long sleeved over-sized hoody, long dark green cargo pants, green stripped gloves, a Michigan cap tilted downwards covering most her forehead, and regular running shoes.

Along the way most people stared, and whether they knew her or not it was stares of concern.

Trish Stratus had been sitting among Ric Flair, Ashley, Lillian Garcia, and a few members of the Spirit Squad. As Lita walked past, head titled down praying in her heart that nobody would question, her, uh, morning wardrobe statement walked towards the vending machines near the corner.

Trish got up with one eyebrow raised as she followed Lita towards the vending machines. Lita stared at the snacks in the machines until she found her pick, punched in the numbers and bent down to pick up her s'mores flavored pop tarts, and gummy snacks. Trish was standing behind her as Lita bent downwards, along with her oversized hoody that came mid-thigh to the slender redhead.

"Uh, um, Lita…?"

"Oh!" Lita looked totally surprised by the presence of Trish, as if expecting nobody else but herself in the noisy room.

Lita fumbled around with her glasses and pulled her cap down even more.

"What's wrong" Trish questioned with a strong tone of concern, after all they were best friends, and knew each other like the back of their own hands.

"Nothing, I think you know, I might have the cold, and well you know good ol' self-conscious me," Lita raised her gloved hands up, "don't wanna pass it on" she whispered.

Lita took a step to the side, hopefully ending the conversation.

Trish took the same step, "come on, your coming with me, you know you can't lie for crap" Trish wanted to grab Lita's arm, but as soon as she applied the smallest of pressure, Lita yelped in agony, dropping everything falling to the floor.

Trish jumped, embarrassed and scared dropped to the floor apologizing.

"Oh my goodness! Lita, I'm sorry, are you okay?"

Lita stood up, breathing heavily taking Trish with her, she shuffled herself and Trish out of the room. Immediately Lita crashed rubbing self in pain.

"It's that son of a bitch Adam" Trish shook her head. "If I were you I would report him, or I don't know…something!"

Trish's eyes began to tear up, "I can't see my best friend like this every time that ass hole wants to"

Lita looked up into Trish's face, her eyes now swimming in tears too.

Just at that moment, John Cena was walking towards the cafeteria fresh from a shower. He had caught them from a distance and couldn't miss the diva on the floors vibrant red hair.

John came running towards them, Lita noticed, and tried hiding herself in the heap of layers that she was wearing.

"Oh lord, Lita what's wrong what are you doing?" John exclaimed.

Trish moved out of the way yet defended her friend, unsure if Lita wanted John knowing or not. "I got her, just stop being so loud!" she sat down next to Lita with her arms comfortingly around her. Lita cuddled in some more, eyes shut tight.

John was looking down in disbelief. Guilt, and anger building steadily inside him.

"Come on I'm we're talking about this." He suddenly got down and easily picked up the kicking Lita in his arms and walked back to his room with a fussing Trish behind him.

As soon as they entered John hotel room he ever so gently laid Lita down on his bed, Trish sitting on the edge, and John pulling up another seat.

"Lita, what did he do?" John slowly asked after a couple of minutes of silence.

Lita admitting defeat slowly to the horror of Trish and John, removed her sunglasses, cap, and hoody. Lita took the stares, and tears welling back up into Trish's eyes as the opportunity to get up and remove her cargos, revealing shorts underneath, and sports bra after he hoody.

Lita's body starting from the tip of her forehead where there lay a blue bruise where Adam knocked her over crashing her head into the night stand, to the slashes on her legs. Her body was beaten like no other.

Two tears came down from Trish's shaking face

And John's nails were digging deeper into his palms, until blood was starting to form out.

But he didn't care…

(one again) This shall be continued…