Say Anything

A/N: I know the updates for this story have been slow, so thanks for your patience, guys. I appreciate it. I wasn't sure how many chapters this was going to be, but since they say Orton will be back in action on June 13th, I'm thinking there might only be one more installment to this story. We'll see, but for now, Enjoy!

"Jesus Christ," Randy sighed as he opened the door to his St. Louis condo. "Ya know, if you guys want me to spend some time thinking about what I've done, you should probably leave me alone for a day or two," he spat. As Dave pushed past him, he shut the door and rolled his eyes. "Should I even ask what you're doing here?"

Dave shrugged and put his hands on his hips. "This isn't a social call," he gritted his teeth.

"Yeah? So you're here on business? Vince has you doin' his dirty work now? What? Hunter got bored?" Randy asked with a cocky smirk, making his way to the couch. When Dave said nothing, Randy sank to the couch and put his feet up on the ottoman. "Alright," he said as he made himself comfortable. "Lay it on me, man."

There was a part of Dave that wanted to slap the smirk right off of Randy's face. But he was more mature than that, more professional. "I don't want to come at you, Orton. I don't want to clench my fists and grit my teeth and pretend that I'm going to kick your ass because we both know I won't."

"And we both know Trish would kick yours if you touch me," Randy prodded, knowing the real reason for Dave's visit without him having to say a word. The barb seemed to touch a nerve, but Dave was trying desparately to conceal the emotion. "Motherfucker, who do you think you're fooling?" Randy asked with a chuckle. "You forget I know you better than that."

"You used to know me," Dave said quietly, lowering himself to the chair across from Randy.

Though he said nothing more, Randy rolled his eyes again and shifted his weight from one hip to the other on the couch. Other than John, Dave had probably been his best friend once upon a time. But that was before he had ruined Randy's life. If there was anyone to blame in this situation, it was probably Dave.

"Everyone keeps asking me what happened to me," Randy laughed slightly. "What I wanna know is what the fuck happened to you, man?"

Sinking back into the chair, Dave didn't hesitate. "I grew up," he said. "And since we both know you don't want any other life but this one, I suggest you do likewise. Stop whining like a little bitch and start acting like a man," he advised pointedly. When Randy didn't respond, Dave shrugged. "You don't wanna talk to me about it, fine. I'm not gonna overstay my welcome." His eyes were sincere when Randy finally looked at him. "We coulda had one hell of a feud, Orton."

Everyone said that talking to the kid was like talking to a wall, but Dave had truly believed that he could break through the defenses and get some honest answers. Even Trish had told him it was hopeless, but Dave refused to believe it. Surely his former roommate and Evolution member would listen to him. They were more than friends. They had practically been brothers.

As he began to walk toward the front door, Dave racked his brain for something brilliant to say, something that would change everything. But no inspired words of brilliant encouragement came to him. He knew, especially now that he had seen Randy's hardened gaze and his apathetic body language, that the kid was too far gone. It was over.

There was no more Legend Killer. Only a spoiled brat named Randy Orton.

"How could you do it, man?" Randy's deep baritone stopped Dave cold by the front door.

Turning slightly, Dave felt his shoulders sag. For months, he had considered himself lucky that they hadn't had this discussion. He had convinced himself that not having it meant that Randy was cool with everything. Clearly, he had been wrong.

"How could I do what?" he asked, his voice dripping with exhaustion as he turned and leaned his massive shoulder to the wall. "How could I ask the most beautiful woman in the world to have dinner with me? How could I fall in love with the most caring, intelligent, witty, compassionate soul I've ever met? How could I ask the woman I love more than my own life to marry me?"

Randy rolled his eyes. Truth be told, he knew exactly how Dave could have done it. He knew because he had been ready to do the same damn thing. "Okay, drama queen," he said sarcastically, leaning in the kitchen doorway, his eyes trained on the man before him. "You knew, Dave. Man, you knew how I felt about her. How could you do that to me?"

Dave took a moment to consider Randy. He wanted to run with the big boys, wanted so badly to be considered one of them. But he was still just a kid in a lot of ways. There were still so many things about life he needed to learn, things he needed to experience. Trying to explain everything was impossible, so Dave shrugged. "I don't know, man."

"You don't know?" Randy laughed incredulously. "What the fuck kind of answer is that?"

"I saw you and Trish dancing around each other for three years, Orton. You wanted each other, but even when we told you guys to go for it, you wouldn't budge. You refused, said it wouldn't work, denied it." Dave spoke as if he was trying to remind Randy of the events that had led them here. "I kept my distance for a long fucking time, Orton. I gave you three years of opportunities to make your move. The door was open to you, and you didn't walk through.

"You keep asking how we could do this to you. But everything in life is not about you, dammit. You want honesty, man? When I'm with Trish, I'm not thinking about you. I know that probably kills you inside, but you are not the center of the universe, Orton. Everything in this world does not revolve around you and your feelings."

The tone in Dave's voice made Randy feel as though he had just been grounded by his father. His eyes drifted to the floor as he tried to think of some sort of retort. There had to be some smart-ass, snappy reply to the information that Dave had just layed on him.

But if there was, Randy couldn't find it. He was right. The big back-stabbing lug was right. Randy had innumerable opportunities to further his relationship with Trish, and he had never taken them. He had never stepped out of the comfortable bubble they were living in to try and make something else happen. He had been too scared, to cowardly, to take the life he wanted. So someone else had taken it out from under him.

With a slight chuckle, he felt his shoulders rise and fall. Still staring at an imaginary spot on the floor, he said, "You wanna know why?" he asked, almost to himself. "Why I didn't contest the suspension? Why I didn't throw a bitch fit when they asked me to leave?"

Steeling himself for the typical Orton "It's not my fault the world is always against me because I'm beautiful and talented and deserve to get everything I want" speech, Dave crossed his arms. "Because you wanted to hide from the things that make you uncomfortable?" he prodded. Though he knew it was wrong, Dave couldn't resist pushing another button or two. Orton was kinda funny when his face turned all red.

But Randy wasn't fighting back. When he raised his eyes, they were filled with sadness and pain. "Everyone thinks I'm hiding. I wish it was that simple," he said, sincerity in his words. "I just want some peace. I want to wake up in the morning and not hear Trish's name. I want to walk out the front door and not worry about seeing her, or someone who looks like her. I want a whole day without listening to someone talk about how beautiful she looks on this magazine, or about how great she was in that match.

"It's like I can't be around her without wanting to touch her, but I can't touch her because she's yours now. And I can't not be around her without losing my mind because she's been my fucking sanity for so damn long that without her I feel lost." He was pacing the floor, talking to himself, though he knew Dave was listening carefully. Months of keeping his feelings bottled up seemed to be breaking as he vented. "I thought that a couple months away from the business would help me clear my head. Give me some more time with Sam. It would make things better. Easier."

"But it didn't work."

Turning, Randy met his friend's eye and realized there was no point in lying anymore. "Even when she's not here, she's here. She's in my head. She's in every woman I see at the grocery store or the mall. She's just everywhere. And I don't want her there, but she won't get out of my head." He ran a hand over his hair and let out a long, dramatic sigh. "I just want some peace."

There was a moment of silence as Dave attempted to gather his thoughts. He knew that Randy was trying to express himself, but he also knew that there were some flaws in the kid's logic. "Look, Orton, you know I love you like a brother, right?" Randy shrugged. "I hope you find that peace you're looking for, man. I really do hope you find some happiness. But I don't think you're gonna find it without Trish, or with Sam."

Randy's blue eyes grew wide. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

Dave shook his head. "Hell no, I'm not handing Trish over to you, motherfucker," he chuckled slightly when Randy's shoulders sagged once more. "What I'm saying, Randy, is that you have to find the peace for yourself. If you don't have it in here," Dave poked Randy's chest with his index finger, "then nobody else is ever going to give it to you."

Another silence followed as Randy processed Dave's words. When he finally licked his lips to speak, he just nodded and walked toward the entry. "Thanks for stopping by, man," Randy said, leaning against the open door.

With another shake of his head, Dave moved past Randy and onto the front porch. He had no way of knowing if his words had made a difference. There was a good possibility that Orton would close that door and forget everything they had just talked about.

Either way, he knew that Trish was with the right man now. Orton had issues that went so far beyond Trish Stratus, so far beyond every one of them. And even if he didn't accept it, Dave knew that Randy was going to have to resolve things for himself before he was any good to any of them, personally or profesionally.