Sad To See You Go

Darcy woke up after a few hours' sleep and the moment she opened her eyes and realised she was in Jon's room she smiled. She looked over her shoulder, hoping to see Jon still sleeping beside her.

Her brow furrowed when she saw the sheets haphazardly thrown together.

"Jon?" She asked loud enough so that he would hear her from the kitchen.

When she was offered no response, Darcy threw her legs over the side of the bed and walked out of the bedroom in her underwear and t-shirt. Her mouth pulled into a thin line when she couldn't see him but her stomach dropped when she noticed that his suitcase and travel bag weren't where he had left them.

The first thing she decided to do was call him. It didn't cross her mind that the flight probably hadn't landed yet, she just wanted to know why he would leave. He didn't answer.

Darcy sat down in the chair where it had started and dropped her head into her hands, wiping her hands up and down her face in frustration. She wished she hadn't done anything, she just wished she'd kept her big mouth shut, that she hadn't given in.

The apartment felt emptier. She found it weird because she had been alone in it so many times before but when she knew he wasn't coming back for two weeks she didn't want to be there. She didn't want to feel the way that she did because of him.

Darcy trudged towards her suitcase, pulling it open and grabbing the first pair of leggings that she saw. Not bothering to put on a bra, she pulled her jacket off the back of the couch, quickly pulled on her sneakers, took her house keys from her bag and decided to take a walk to FCW.

Her hood did nothing to protect her from the harsh winds. It was sunny; it would have been a perfect day had it not been for the wind. Darcy wished it was raining with thunder and lightning – she always preferred it to sunshine and it would have been much more fitting.

She hadn't gone for such a long run in what she thought was months and the distance and speed were causing the bottoms of her feet to ache. She could feel the pressure in her knees but not once did she stop.

By the time she reached FCW she had her jacket tied around her waist, she was huffing dramatically and wiping sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand.

"You don't look like you want to be here," Ashley commented, watching Darcy run straight by her without proper gym clothes or a gym bag. The sour expression on her face always helped.

"I don't want to be anywhere," Darcy grumbled.

"I don't know how to help with that," Ashley told her with her confused expression. "You okay? You want to talk about it?"

"Not particularly."

"Alright then... How about the boys, though? Was Jon excited to be leaving for the big time?" Darcy ignored the question and walked straight past her friend, heading towards the weights room. She heard Ashley speak as she walked away, "I guess it has something to do with him."

Despite the fact she hadn't bought her work out clothes or that she wasn't wearing a bra, Darcy went straight for the punching bag. She unleashed any and all frustration running through her body onto the large weight.

"You okay there, Darcy?" Sara Del Rey asked, walking up to the blonde with her arms crossed. Darcy was still working on the punching bag; her knuckles had split open but she was pushing through the pain.

"Just dandy." The response was clearly sarcastic. Darcy's eyes never left the punching bag.

"I thought you were driving Ambrose to the airport."

"So did I." The pace quickened in Darcy's punches as did the force behind it.

"You didn't want to wrap up your hands first? That's going to take some time to heal."

Darcy didn't respond but she did keep hitting the punching bag. She had been there for at least 20 minutes repeating the movement – it was essentially muscle memory – but she was still just as angry as she was when she started.

Sara reached out and grabbed at Darcy's forearm, hauling her into the middle of the room. Darcy tried to shake the trainer off but it was no use, Sara planted her feet onto the ground and made sure that she wasn't going anywhere.

"Are you going to walk with me to my office or are we going to do this here?"

Darcy had seen that look before and the situation hadn't been much different. It was at Darcy's first ROH show and she'd been messing about backstage and almost missed her cue. Sara had taken it upon herself to lecture Darcy about how seriously she needed to take things. The ultimatum had been given: they could take it outside or it could be done right in the middle of the locker room.

Just as she did that first time, Darcy's mouth pulled into a thin line and she stomped away from the public area.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Noth-" Darcy snapped fiercely, refusing to sit down in the chair that Sara was pointing to.

"Don't lie to me."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm not giving you a choice."

Darcy squared her shoulders and spoke in a firmer voice, "I don't want to talk about it."

This was different to their previous conversation. Back then Darcy was terrified that she'd been pulled aside – a million possible scenarios had been running through her head – but this time she could think of nothing except that morning.

"You need to get your knuckles checked and cleaned and then you need to go home."

"Can I just hang around here?" Darcy asked, trying to sound casual. The idea of going back to Jon's house made her stomach churn. "Watch some tapes?"

Sara nodded and sent Darcy on her way but not before she tried one last time to get an explanation. Darcy left without saying anything.

As she walked towards the trainer's room, Darcy clenched and unclenched her fists. The stinging that went through her knuckles caused her to puff out her cheeks and exhale dramatically.

Heather, when she saw the state of Darcy's knuckles, raised an eyebrow and shook her head. Darcy sat down at a table opposite Heather and her hands were pulled onto the table and inspected. Darcy cringed as Heather moved antiseptic wipes across the knuckles on her left hand.

"You did a good job of this," Heather commented, cleaning Darcy's right hand. "Must've been pretty mad."

"You could say that."

Her hands were bandaged and she was told to come back before her sessions every morning and they would decide if she could throw punches. They agreed that if she felt able to hold onto weights then she could use them but the moment her grasp felt weak she needed to stop.

Darcy, with her newly wrapped hands, walked to the Television room. She wasn't surprised to see that it was occupied – Kassius Ohno, Darcy and everyone else called him Chris, and Leo Kruger were watching some ROH tapes of the Kings of Wrestling. Darcy was smart enough to work out that it was so that Leo could get a better idea of what it was like to team with Chris but she liked to think that it was because Chris Hero had a very large ego and enjoyed watching himself repeatedly.

"Mind if I crash this party?"

"Always room for you, Harlequin." Chris slid over on the couch to create room for Darcy in the middle. She looked at the spot for a few seconds before sitting down with a quiet sigh; she had hoped that either of them would make room for her near the arm of the couch where she could press herself into it and disappear into the material.

"You okay, love? What've you done?"

"Uh," Darcy flexed her fingers and looked at Leo with a shrug. "Nothing."

He clearly didn't believe her but he wasn't going to press the issue. Darcy pulled her knees to her chin and watched the television – she wasn't taking in what was happening, though.

By the end of the day Darcy had run out of things to do. Sara, DeMott and Keirn had all told her to go home but she kept telling them that she was getting a ride with Ashley – Ashley didn't know that.

"You're hovering," Matt stated causing Darcy to shake her head and cross her arms.

"I am not!"

"Do you want something? No? Then you're hovering."

Darcy rolled her eyes and moved along to bother Saraya and Ashley. She could see them across the room talking quietly to each other. It didn't surprise her at all to hear her name when she got closer to them. Nor was she surprised when they stopped talking instantly. Ashley smiled at her innocently and Saraya rolled her eyes before picking up a medicine ball with a grunt and standing a few feet away from Ashley.

Darcy picked at the bandaging around her hands while she watched them throw the ball back and forth. So, maybe she was hovering. She didn't know what else to do, though. Going back to Jon's seemed like the worst plan in the world – made all the more unappealing by the possibility of walking – but it was inevitable.

"I thought you'd be long gone by now," Saraya commented, heaving the ball into the air. "You've been doing nothing all day. Aren't you totally bored right now?"

"No," Darcy shook her head, "I'm fine."

She may have put her best confused expression but Saraya and Ashley's eyes automatically went to her hands. Saraya muttered something in disbelief but Darcy maintained that she was fine.

"So, what the fuck is wrong with you?" Ashley asked as soon as she had started do drive. "Don't say 'nothing'."

Darcy shrunk down in her seat and her shoulders dropped. After a full day of lying she was exhausted – there was only so many times she could say 'nothing' or that she was fine.

"I, um," she exhaled. "I slept with Jon."

"Jon? Good? Ambrose Jon?"

"No, John fucking Cena," Darcy retorted loudly. "Of course Ambrose Jon."

"And that's put you in a mood, why?" Ashley asked, her face contorting in utter confusion. "You should be jumping for joy. Hell, I want to jump for joy for you! Wait! Was he bad?"

"No," Darcy shook her head.

"Oh, were you bad?"

"No!" Darcy exclaimed defensively. "No one was bad, it wasn't bad."

"How good? On a scale from 1 to 10 – 1 being sex with your brother and 10 being the best night of your life – what was it?"

"Wait what?" Darcy turned to Ashley with a gaping mouth. "What does it matter to you?"

"This is what friends talk about!"

"Then I'm revoking this friendship," Darcy said simply, turning back to face the road in front of them. She crossed her arms but it didn't take long at all for her to give in. "It was a 9. At least."

"Then what the hell is your problem?"

"He left," she revealed in a small voice. "I woke up – it wasn't even that much later – but he was gone. He left for the airport without saying anything and now I feel like a two-bit whore."

Ashley moved one hand from the steering wheel so that she could hold Darcy's. Darcy was half expecting some half-baked excuse – some sort of reasoning as to why Jon would just up and leave like he had but nothing left Ashley's mouth.

Darcy slouched back into her seat and felt the anger return in full force. Part of her wanted to release her frustrations as tears but she held them back. She wasn't going to cry over a guy. Not again.