Disclaimer: As always I own nothing except my OC's and the story itself. I am just a fan girl who enjoys visiting the WWE playground once in a while.
Author's Note: To Awesomeone21, Shamaness1171, My time is Now, Canadice, and Taker Always thank you all for reading, reviewing, and encouraging me every step of the way!
Without further ado – I give you
Chapter 6
(John's P.O.V.)
Instantly I wanted to back away and pretend I didn't hear anything but I couldn't do that. She was obviously in some kind of pain; I just wasn't so sure I could help her. Two of my longest relationships turned out to be all wrong as they didn't understand me and my um… preferences. And AJ, well I didn't even want to think about crazy AJ. After that fucked up relationship, I needed a woman who didn't come with a lot of drama –that included past loves and family craziness. I also needed a woman who not only understood my sexual preferences, but enjoyed them herself. I definitely did not need a woman discovering those predilections and blabbing it to the WWE world. It was my business and only my business. So I needed a woman who was drama free and she had to understand and agree with my likes and dislikes in the bedroom.
Letting out a sigh of exasperation, I geared myself up to confront Mercedes. I liked her a lot if I was being honest. Going on the road with the WWE was no easy task; it could intimidate even the strongest soul, but she seemed to handle her first night with an easy graceful style. There was an innocence about her that drew me in like a damned moth to the flame. Not to mention those damned dark eyes of hers; eyes that at least one point I swear could see straight through to my soul. Yeah all of those things made her very interesting to me indeed, but it was clear that she didn't meet either one of my relationship points. It seemed to me that she came with a lot of drama – maybe too much drama. I was certain that things between her and I could be very interesting; but as much as I wanted her… I truly didn't think she would be interested in some of my sexual preferences.
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(Mercedes P.O.V.)
Sitting in the middle of the bed – I drew my knees to my chest; clutching the pillow as my life line holding me to the here and now. Every time I closed my eyes the images remained – the dream merging with my vague conscious memories – all of it horrific. Clutching the pillow a little tighter – I took a deep shaky breath – first one then another. Needing to calm my racing heart – I tried to focus on my breathing alone. After a moment or two the idea of trying to go back to sleep didn't seem so far -fetched.
'Did I scream this time?' Five simple words racing through my mind – making my stomach roll and pitch violently. There was a moment or two there where I wasn't sure I wouldn't be physical sick. As the feeling passed I racked my brain looking for a trigger – something that brought on the dreams and the screaming. I could come up with nothing. I never realized that I'd screamed until after the fact. It was usually my aunt or uncle sitting on the edge of my bed waking me up that was my first clue that something was wrong. My aunt and uncle seeing me like this is one thing, their girls (my cousins) was worse, John seeing me like this would be a disaster. I allowed myself a moment or two lost in dark thoughts – the past and present weaving ugly images in mind. It was then after a long dark moment that I noticed a brief flickering light coming from the doorway. Certain the bedroom door was shut when I fell asleep; I guess I had my answer – I definitely screamed.
As I watched he stood alone and silent watching me in return as the tears ran unchecked down my face. In the back of my mind I knew that I should feel something – anything but I didn't. Honestly as I watched him I simply felt numb. A part of me wanted to scream once more – to hide away and pretend that he wasn't really seeing me like this. The numbness however wouldn't allow it. On the one hand I was almost grateful for the numbness. On the other hand, I could just as easily be angry too. Screaming at the top of my lungs two or three nights a week while surrounded by family was one thing. My tears, fears, and the actual content of my dreams that was private. I knew my family meant well, but I wasn't ready to share any of it with them; I didn't know if I would ever be ready. I kept my tears locked away behind closed doors – until now. I couldn't help the small – somewhat hysterical giggle that bubbled up. I don't know what my uncle did or did not say to John before. But I was guessing that if he didn't think I was some sort of broken freak show before he certainly did now.
I should have counted the silence among my blessings; once he spoke I was sure he would have questions; some of which I could answer and some I couldn't stomach the thought of facing. I couldn't drop those kinds of bombs on a man I just met – a co-worker no less. How long could this strange display of silence continue. How long before one of us broke?
Then suddenly in the silence something shifted. I don't know what it was or how I knew it, I just knew. "John" I heard his name a nearly broken whisper as it slipped past my lips. That single word was enough to snap his silent watch. I watched wearily as he walked a litter further into the room quietly shutting the door behind him. I watched his movements with eerie fascination; as he soundlessly made his way over towards the bed sitting down on the edge of it next to me. It was as if I watched long enough, maybe, just maybe the images of him in my mind would be enough to scare away the nightmares
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(John's P.O.V.)
My name on her lips; that one soft nearly silent whisper was turning my inside – well inside out. In a few short hours, I'd seen her smile heard her laugh – yet nothing prepared me for that sound. I wanted to give her a reason – multiple reasons to say my name over and over again. Hell who was I kidding I wanted to give her multiple reasons to scream my name over and over again. Shaking my head A hurried grimace crossing my fast; here one minute and gone the next.
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(Mercedes P.O.V.)
I watched as he sat down next to me. My tears were less now; as I watched him. Concentrating on his face, I realized the ugly images playing in my head were lessening – floating away like fog and morning sunshine. I watched mesmerized like a small child finding presents under the tree Christmas morning as he raised his hand and slowly wiped away the remaining tears. I felt my body shudder in response. I felt his warm caress like a soothing balm across my entire body. Without a word, his touch, his mere presence was working – it was forcing the darkness back into the shadows where it couldn't touch me again tonight. "I'm sorry" I murmured finding my voice; a voice that sounded strange hollow to my own ears. He simply shook his head as his thumb continued to stroke across my right cheek. Looking at him, I almost thought it was fascination I saw in eyes. 'How strange' I contemplated as I pushed that line of thinking away. I was a lot of things but fascinating to a man like John Cena was definitely not one of them. Attempting to speak once more, I smiled, I was hoping for something that didn't make me look bat-shit crazy, although I was sure at this point that was a lost cause. "I don't normally turn into a screaming banshee at two-thirty in morning." My inner voice giggled at that, 'no not at two-thirty in morning. Hell, you usually do it about twelve-thirty or one am. So all things considered this is a record for you.' You know that little voice inside your head; ever wish you could tie it up, slap a piece of duct tape across her mouth, and then when one was looking shove her down a flight of stairs? Yes – No? Well I did and with increasing regularity these days.
A small – almost patient smile broke across his face. It was then I noted that he was completely shirtless. A shirtless John Cena in the ring and a shirtless John Cena sitting beside you on a queen size bed are two totally different animals. I felt small, feminine, girly, and more than a little silly as I for lack of better word "checked him out." I couldn't stop myself – without really moving my eyes roamed over his face, broad shoulders, down his chest, stopping briefly at a truly beautiful set of abs. As my gaze dropped to his sexy little belly button and further to his hips, I noted the plain black cotton basketball shorts he was wearing. Wait a minute, did I just say his belly button was sexy. I truly must be losing my mind I thought with an inward shrug.
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(John's P.O.V.)
What the fuck made me think touching her was a good idea. Here she is, a woman that I have already admitted to finding undeniably, sitting in the middle of my bed, looking warm, and sleep tousled, vulnerable, and innocent as hell as I touch her. 'Stupid Cena' I thought 'really fucking stupid.' Just because it was stupid didn't mean I could stop myself either. No like an idiot I continued to stroke her face; her soft, gentle, warm skin flushed under my thumb. Realistically I knew the flush was from whatever made her scream and the tears, but I couldn't help but wonder if I could paint a rosy flush across her skin one day. I heard what she said, and I knew that was my opening to ask if you wanted to talk. That would have been the right thing to do – the gentlemanly thing I suppose. Screw it though I wasn't feeling very gentleman like at the moment. Truth be told – I was slipping into over protective, going to mark my territory bastard mode faster by the second. The warm vulnerable innocence shining in her wet eyes was going to be my undoing. Getting tangled up in her would be a mistake of epic proportions. I didn't need the drama or the hassle that was sure to come along. Yet strangely I felt a need inside me that I hadn't felt in a very long time. A needing that I sure as hell didn't want to feel let alone discuss. She seemed better now – calmer. I should have probably smiled, said good-night, and got my ass up out of there but I couldn't. I continued to watch her. As she spoke I felt the muscles in her face move softly against my hand. Her words didn't matter, I was sure she was apologizing or something close to. Hell for all I cared she could have been reciting the Gettysburg Address. I was more interested in the shape of her tear stained face. It was then as I studied her face, I realized that her eyes were definitely studying me. I felt her gaze traveling across my face and down my shoulders. More than a gaze, her eyes so intense I could feel it like a lover's soft caress across my body. Her eyes traveled across my shoulders and down my chest. I almost laughed when she stopped to "appreciate" my abs. If she had stopped at my abdomen things would have been fine. Instead she let her gaze wander further to my navel – to my hips. Watching her eyes I looked for signs. I needed to know if she was the real deal or if this was some kind of game? All I got in response was fascinated innocence and that damned warm vulnerability. Fucking hell – this night was going to be the death of me. Unless I wanted to be sitting here like some fifteen year old kid with his first raging hard-on I needed to do something and fast.
Dropping my hand into my lap, I stood abruptly from the bed. Without a word, I retrieved the old quilt that had slid down off the bed. Standing beside the bed, I gestured for her to lay down before I quickly tucked her in like a small child. Smiling at my hand work, I went to door, without turning to face her I mumbled "be right back!" before exiting back out to the other room.
Assuring Mack that everything was indeed fine, I grabbed a couple of old black and white movies from the shelf below the TV, along with the blanket and pillow off the sofa. Silently I re-entered the bedroom – finding her right where I left her. Tossing my blanket and pillow on the bed beside her "Ok here's the deal – you have two choices this evening 'The Three Stooges greatest moments' or 'Abbott and Costello meet Frankenstein' so which will it be?
Author's Note: More than twenty-three hundred words and yet this isn't where I planned for this chapter to end. Oh well – I have learned that this is John and Mercedes story – as for me, well I'm just along for the ride. I HUGE special thank you to TakerAlways – I would still be looking at a blank screen looking for the right words if not for her. You are the best!
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