Houston, We Have a Problem
John Cena had been WWE champion for far too long. By the time New Year's Revolution came around, the fans were beginning to turn on him, and Creative had no choice but to hand the title over to someone else. When he regained it at the Royal Rumble only three weeks later, fans seemed shocked. But the backlash continued, and again, they were powerless. Staring down the barrel of a revenue loss, they had no choice but to take the champion's belt away once more.
Or so industry insiders and fans believed.
John was the guy who had dreamed of being the champion since he was a kid. He was the guy who used to put his brothers in figure four leg locks on the front lawn, and designed his own championship belt to wear around the house. Nobody loved the business, or his fans, as much as John did.
Meeting Trish had been a dream come true for the young man from West Newbury, Mass. A woman who loved to work as much as he did, and who was easily the best in her division, made her the perfect match for him. And being able to spend all of their time together on the road made things ten times easier.
The best part was that they were always together more days out of the week than they were separated. He didn't mind doing press junkets in his off time, because Trish had them to do, too. She was just as busy as he was, and that made everything seem okay.
And then he met Keegan. His life had been easy before the night he and Trish baby sat his daughter. Sure, he knew about her, but throwing money into her life and trusting Jennifer to do the rest had been a fitting compromise to not being around. Now that he knew her, being away from her was growing increasingly difficult.
It wasn't that he spent that much time with her when he actually got to come home. But he could pretty much ensure that they would get a few hours together, as long as he and Trish went to visit Jennifer and Dave, or invited them over for dinner. And while it was also getting harder to watch another man filling his space in his daughter's life, he grew to long for those moments he got to be, at the very least, in the same room with her.
So he had gone to Vince, explained that he had a lot on his plate personally at the moment, what with the impending wedding and the new house and all, and asked that his personal appearances be scaled back just a little bit. And Vince had been as understanding as the Chairman had the capacity to be. He could give John his off days, let him do with them what he chose, but it would involve sacrificing the title he loved so much.
Weighing the decision had been fairly easy as he and Trish spent another evening baby-sitting Keegan while Jennifer and Dave went to dinner. If it meant a few more hours of playing with his daughter, coloring with her, or watching her dress up in Trish's clothes and play "Supermodel" in the living room, he would relinquish the title. He could never tell anyone why, but he could make the sacrifice.
As he pulled into the parking lot of the gym, he noticed that Dave's car was already there. Maybe he would invite him, Edge, Randy, and their girls over for dinner. It had been nearly a month since they had all gotten together, and almost two weeks since he had seen his daughter last.
Walking into the weight room, he felt an inexplicable anger rising in his chest. Randy and Edge stood on either side of the free weights, smiling down as Dave benched a bar from his chest, over his head. John could care less how much Dave pressed, but the fact that Keegan was sitting in the middle of the bar he was lifting made John's blood boil, and he had no idea why.
A raucous giggle sounded from the little girl as she gripped the bar tightly. "Come on, Dave. You can do one more!" she encouraged.
Edge held his hand on Keegan's back as Randy watched Dave's face and the bar simultaneously. Glancing away for a second, Edge nodded at John. "Hey, man."
Lifting a hand off the bar, Keegan waved. "Hey, John!" she shouted and then squealed as she began to lose her balance and teetered on the bar. Edge grabbed her as Dave lost his grip on the bar with the absence of her weight.
Randy caught the bar just before it smashed Dave's throat, but not before John felt his heart nearly stop in his throat. "Don't you guys think that's a little dangerous?" he asked as non-chalantly as possible.
Sitting, Dave shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, as if loosening them. "Nah, man, it's cool. We do it all the time." Turning with a bright smile, he held his arms out for Keegan, who gladly fell into his embrace. "Right, Peanut?"
Nodding, Keegan looked from Dave to John. "It's fun, John," she agreed. "Wanna try?"
He didn't. It was reckless, careless, and dangerous. He had no desire to put his daughter in a position to crack her head wide open. But before he could tell Dave exactly how stupid he thought the older man was being, Randy moved past him and patted his back.
"Relax, man. I mean, Dave's the only one who has any semblance of fucking parental judgement at all, ya know?"
"Randy!" Keegan exclaimed, holding her hands over her mouth.
"What are you gonna do, Munchkin? Wash my mouth out with soap?" Randy challenged as Keegan rolled her eyes. "That's what I thought." Turning back to John, he shrugged and began a set of reps.
The comment stung John as he began his work out, blocking out everything until he felt a pair of eyes on him. Turning his head, he smiled down on her. "Whatcha doin', Kiddo?"
Keegan shrugged and looked around at the other guys. "I'm bored," she sighed. "Wanna go get some ice cream with me?"
The work out could wait. Standing from his machine, John offered her a hand. "Sure thing."
"John," Dave called out, hanging from the pull up bar, his legs still bent and crossed at his ankles. "She has to eat dinner soon. No ice cream." He began to pull himself up again, as though he hadn't just chastized his friend like a child.
Dropping Keegan's hand, John walked briskly from the room, not worrying that door slammed behind him. Once inside the locker room, he let loose with a punch that would have knocked The Great Khali to his knees, and denting a locker in the process.
"Who the FUCK does he think he is?" John growled, turning to see who had joined him when he heard the door shut.
"What the fuck, dude?" Randy asked, his face twisted with confusion at his friend's behavior. "You been all fucked up since you got here. What's up?"
Shaking his head, John turned away again. He didn't need anyone asking him about his behavior. "Don't worry about it, Orton."
"Alright, whatever," Randy threw his hands up. "Just thought I might warn you that you made Keegan cry, and you know how that makes Dave."
"I really don't fucking care how Dave feels right now, man," John laughed sardonically, standing to punch another locker.
"Clearly, you don't care how these lockers feel either," Randy mumbled under his breath.
"Who the fuck does he think he is anyway? The world's greatest dad? It's not like he runs home to be with his daughters all the fuckin' time. It's not like he pays that much attention to the ones he's already got. Why's he gotta be so attentive to somebody else's? I mean, fuck it all, it's not like he's the only one with parental instincts!"
Randy stood in stunned silence for a second and then laughed. "Right, because you, me, and Edge are so damn fatherly," he guffawed. "Unless you're counting the time Trish wore pigtails and called you Daddy. . . "
His sentence trailed off as he met John's saddened crystal gaze. Many had said Randy Orton wasn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he knew how to listen to his gut. And at the moment, it was telling him that John had a big-ass secret. "Okay, so maybe some of us know more than others," he said carefully, as though the wrong words might turn his face into one of those lockers. "But whatever girl you knocked up way back when, or whatever secret family your hiding, or whatever is going on in your conflicted little brain has nothing to do with Dave or Keegan, so. . . "
John couldn't take it anymore. For five years, he had kept a secret and everything had been great. For five years, no one had to know. Five months with this child and his world was turned inside out. He couldn't hold it in any longer - he had to say something - to someone.
He knew he couldn't tell Trish. He knew she wouldn't understand. And he couldn't tell Dave. He sure as hell couldn't confide in Keegan. But Randy had been his boy for a long time - they had confessed a lot more than straight men were supposed to. "Orton, look," he started.
But he didn't have to finish. The look in his eyes said everything Randy was refusing to believe. "Son of a bitch," he breathed more as an exclamation than an accusation. "How?"
"It was a one-nighter in Germany a long time ago," John began to explain.
Glancing at the door, Randy shook his head. "Not that long ago." As the pieces began to fall into place, he was sure the floor started moving further away from his feet. Surely this wasn't happening. It was more than they could take - a secret that would truly rip his entire circle of friends to shreds. He didn't want to be the one to carry it. He didn't want to be John's best friend at the moment.
"Long enough," John answered, sinking to the bench beside Randy. "Jen and I talked about it and we don't want anyone to know."
"Except that you do," Randy stated, standing and wiping his hands on his shorts. With another shake of his head for clarity, he looked at John. "This cannot end well," he predicted.
John watched as his friend moved toward the door. "Orton," he called out.
"Man, not my thing," he held his hands up, surrendering any involvement. "This is your shit to deal with."
When he was alone again, John rested his head in his hands and stared at the floor. The look of disappointment, confusion, and shock in Randy's eyes was nothing compared to the look Trish would give him when she found out. And telling the truth would rip Jennifer and Dave apart, too. Keegan wouldn't understand and none of his friends would trust him again.
Exiting the locker room, intent on regaining his composure, he tried to pep talk himself as he had for weeks now. Keep your fucking mouth shut, Cena, and nobody gets hurt!