DISCLAIMER: I own nothing that's recognizable. Y'dig, dawgs?

TITLE: Hearts And Minds

PAIRING/S: Cena/Maria, Cena/Lita (Amy), Randy/Lita (Amy), I think those are the basic ones.

RATING: Starts around PG-13 (T), bound to go up, I'm sure.

SUMMARY: When things go from pretty bad to worse with John and Maria, Lita just tries to be a good friend, without letting her own feelings get in the way.

STATUS: WIP

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Randy Orton's on RAW in this fic. Other than that, I could really use your reviews. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be able to pull this off. I haven't written fic in MONTHS, so this sort of a break-in, if you dig my flow.

HEARTS AND MINDS

CHAPTER 1

John shakes his head vigorously, trying to clear his vision. Someone is trying to get him up, he can feel them pulling at his arm. Something trickles down the side of his face, and there's a familiar salty taste in his mouth.

"John! John, come on. Come on, man, it's okay, we got you."

John looks up into the smoky blue eyes of Shawn Michaels, but knows somehow it isn't Shawn trying to pull him to his feet.

"Bro, you gotta try to get up, come on."

Randy's voice sounds distant to John, and almost disembodied. Randy has him by the waist, and has flung John's arm over his shoulders, struggling to get John up on his legs. John's vision begins to clear as Randy and Shawn half-drag him and get him moving, and as he looks out at the chaos on the road, it all begins to come back to him…………

They'd been going a bit too fast…he'd always had a tendency to drive fast on clear roads…There had been smiles and music…his head had begun to pound harder and harder…his vision had begun to blur, and in a matter of seconds had completely gone out…The heat and the summer sun had finally gotten to him…What had been the last thing he'd heard? That shrill sound? Had it been someone honking at them from behind? The wheels screeching, maybe? Or –

"Maria….Where's Maria?"

"They've got her, bro," Randy answers, "In an ambulance, she's off to the hospital. We gotta get you on this stretcher, come on, just one leg up, John-"

"H-hospital?"

"She's fine, all things considered," Randy replies as the stretcher bearing his best friend is rolled towards the waiting vehicle, "She looked pretty banged up, and she was unconscious, but breathing. There's a nasty bump on her head, I think she may have gotten a bad concussion. The paramedics think she's okay, other than a couple of broken ribs, but to get away with just that and nothing else is asking for a near miracle, considering the crash."

"My arm…it hurts…"

"Yeah, it's probably broken, bro," Shawn answers. The doors click close, and the siren goes off. "Let's hope that's the only thing you broke. I doubt it though, your leg doesn't look very good."

"Need….Maria…she….."

Shawn's and Randy's voices begin to sound softer and softer, and become almost like echoes. John's vision blurs again, even as Randy and Shawn tell him to try and keep awake, to stay with them, but it's no use. John has no control over his consciousness, and before he knows it, the entire world just disappears.

He wakes up again in the hospital already, and is almost immediately blinded by the overhead lights. He grunts as he sits himself up on one elbow, because the other's already set in a cast. He barely notices the movement in the left side of the room as he tries to prop himself up into a sitting position.

"…Hey…"

"Amy?"

The redhead appears at his side, helping to set up his pillows behind him.

"What are you doing here?" John finds himself asking her, "Where's Shawn? Or Randy?"

"Vince asked to see them," Amy says as she pulls up a chair to sit beside his bed, "Listen, Vince and Steph came in to check on you, but you were out like a light. You've got a broken arm and a couple of broken ribs, plus you're leg's got a tiny fracture in it. You're not gonna be able to wrestle for months."

John sighs disappointedly.

"They're vacating the title, aren't they?"

"Unless you wanna pull a Batista and just do it yourself, yeah," Amy answers.

"Dammit."

John passes as scratched, wounded hand over his face. "Who'd they say they were going to give it to?"

Amy shrugs. "Not sure, really," she replies, "Randy's number 1 contender, it'd be so easy to just give it to him, but of course, no one's gonna just say yes to that. They'd probably want a fighting chance, at least for the pride and knowledge that they fought for the title, even if they don't get it. Or they might probably give it to Shawn, I don't know." She flips her hair back behind her ears. "You look disappointed."

"This isn't the way I pictured losing the title a second time," John points out, "I wanted to go down with a fight. I'm a two-time WWE Champion, dammit. This shouldn't be happening to me."

"It happens to the best of us, John," Amy answers consolingly, "You'll get it back, you'll see. At least you don't really lose anything by letting it go like that. Besides, the fans haven't exactly been cheering you on as of late, are they?"

Since when did I give a crap that I get the shit booed out of me every week?" John snorts, "They can think whatever they very well please. And why am I even complaining about some damn championship? I've got other things to think about." He throws off his blanket, ready to leave, but Amy stops him.

"I really don't think you should be walking around, John," Amy says, "Your leg-"

"My leg is fine," John answers, unintentionally scathingly, "I have to go find Maria. I have to know that she's okay."

"The doctors said no, John," Amy says sternly, but the look on John's face tells her there's really no point arguing.

"Come on, boo," John says, rather irritated, "why you gotta be like that? Come on, you'd wanna do the same if you were in my position and it was someone you cared about in Maria's."

Something crosses Amy's face then, a weird expression, but the moment is fleeting, so John dismisses it as the meds.

"At least let me get you a wheelchair," Amy suggests.

John puts up his hands as if in surrender. "If you think you'll get me there faster," he says.

"I know I'll get you there in one piece, that sound good to you?" Amy replies, but she doesn't wait for an answer, and leaves to go get a wheelchair.

The redhead wheels him halfway down the hall, and at room 423, she knocks on the door. Trish answers, and is surprised to see who Amy has in the chair.

"He wouldn't let me stop him," Amy tells the blonde as Trish steps aside to let them through.

"O-of course," Trish stammers, but before she can say anything else, John lifts himself up gingerly out of his chair.

"John, no!" Amy calls in a whisper, horrified, "You might hurt yourself!"

"I'm a grown man who was in a car crash, Amy," John retorts, "Not a little kid insisting on running when he can hardly walk."

"Well, you're acting like one," Amy shoots back. Trish elbows her in the ribs.

"Let him have his moment," she whispers to her out of earshot of John. Amy crosses her arms and leans against the wall, propping one foot up against it as well.

John, in the meantime, has found his way and is now seated down next to where Maria lay, still asleep. One wrist is in a cast. She has cuts all over her face and arms, and her head is wrapped in bandages. It's not how John remembers seeing her sleeping. It chills him to the bone, and he has to take a deep breath to keep from crying.

"She's been out since we got to you guys," Trish says quietly, putting a hand on John's shoulder comfortingly, "She's had some trauma to her head, but the doctors are still analyzing how bad it hopefully isn't. All in all, they think she's gonna be okay."

John is barely hearing anything Trish is telling him. His eyes rove all over Maria's marred skin and face, over the bruises and scratches she'd gotten. With his working hand, he strokes her hair, then her cheek.

"…I'm sorry, baby."

In the corner, Amy Dumas watches with an unreadable expression as John Cena's hunched form trembles just a little bit, almost too faint for the naked eye to see. Finally she turns away, and goes to wait outside with the wheelchair.

END CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2 COMING V. SOON.