ummm...implied sex (no descriptions)...tons of emotion...thoughts on the accident...

this chapter is just to fill the gap. answering questions like "how's cena doing mentally?" and it kinda develops their relationship more. kinda sucks. i don't really like it, but i'll leave judgement up to you guys.

... here's the next chapter...

enjoy!

Ruby D.

Chapter Thirteen

I caught myself on the top rope, trying to steady my aching legs. Leaning back and letting the colored barrier bounce me somewhat, I slid down to the canvas and let out an exasperated sigh. I was exhausted, I as frustrated, and I desperately wanted a blanket. Sweat was dripping from every inch of my body. Rubbing the back of my neck, I gathered as much cold sweat as I could to rub over my burning cheeks. I knew this was going to be hard, I knew what to expect, yet it all seemed so complain-able. I basically knew how to do everything, growing up in the environment I did, but I still had to learn how to do it right.

I heard the metallic sounds of the door opening, and sounds of treadmills running and weights clanking off each other, before the door slammed shut again. Cena stepped in between the ropes and took a seat on the turnbuckle. He steadied, and repositioned, himself as it gave a little under his weight. "I think we're done for today. You're beat."

"It's not whether I'm tired or not, JC. It's if I want to keep my freakin' job." I sighed, standing and placing my hands on my hips. "I want to keep going."

"You don't want to hurt yourself, Ace. I'm saying you're done. Now to the fun part."

"Fun part?" He jumped down from the turnbuckle and hoisted me in one arm, placing me where he had just been sitting.

"You need to pick out theme music and create an entrance."

"It seems to me that that kind of pales in comparison in the big picture." I yawned, lifting my feet and hands in the air in a well deserved stretch.

When my feet were rested on the second rope again, Cena walking between my legs, hands firmly clasping the underside of my thighs (to keep me from falling), and pressed his forehead against mine. "You've never done this so it would pale in comparison in your perspective. You need these people to love you. If they believe in you, if you show them all the confidence I know you have, then you'll win. You'll have support. And most of all, you'll have the foundation of a true career. Clear?"

"Crystal." I managed a weak smile. He kissed me, then pulled away and stepped out of the ring.

"You bring your iPod? Speakers?"

"Yes and yes. They're in my bag." He jumped from the ledge, softly landing on the mat below. He didn't think I noticed him wince. "Don't hurt yourself, okay. I can tell you're still sore from the accident."

"I'm fine." He pulled out the implied devices and began searching.

I followed him, slipping under his arm. "What are you doing?"

He continued to search through my iPod, squinting to get a better look. "Stare at the Sun - six-hundred and twenty seven plays." He nodded. "Damn, you listen to a lot of music."

I snatched it away from him, stepping back so he couldn't reach. "It's my favorite song. Why?"

He took it back, then plugged my portable speakers in. Music blared through the tiny spheres, and echoed around the room. All the noises from the front to the gym were drowned out as Stare at the Sun by Thrice pierced every ear nearby. "Now it's your theme music." Pausing the music, he pushed me slightly towards the door. "Pretend it's a ramp and strut your stuff for me." He slapped my ass, sending me to the door.

- - - - - - - -

"Can I ask you a question?" I had just got done packing for this week's broadcast when Cena called, asking if I wanted to go out for dinner. Of course I agreed, but I've had something on my mind ever since that night in the hospital. I figured a candle-lit, secluded area would be the perfect place to ask him. Plus, if he freaked out, we'd be in public and he'd look bad (..which would cause him not to freak out so much...).

"Shoot." He took his napkin and dabbed the corners of his mouth. It was so adorably cute to see that he dressed up just to go out to dinner with me. Keep in mind, this is Cena we're talking about. The man who wears jeans and jersey's (or t-shirts) absolutely everywhere. Tonight he was sporting a blue polo with nice, new, jeans. It wasn't "wedding" dressed up, but I appreciated it all the same. Plus, he'd probably insist of taking it all off when he took me home, along with my dress.

I folded my arms on the table, ignoring my food. Really, I wasn't that hungry. "Do you think about the accident? I mean...with someone dying...and all."

He dropped his fork and mirrored me. "All the time."

I felt bad that I asked, but it was good to know that he was thinking about it. Well, for his mental health, I mean. "You didn't kill that man. The police told me what happened. You didn't cause that accident. That tractor-trailer did. You didn't kill anyone."

His hand ran down his face and stopped at his chin, covering his mouth. "It could have been me."

"You can't think like that because it wasn't. It you dwell on that statement, then you'll never really live the rest of your life." I whispered, not sure if I should continue the conversation. It was better to get it all out though, and I just assumed that if he really loved me, he would tell me. To make me feel better, at least. Not to be selfish, but just so that I don't have to worry about him every time he gets behind the wheel. Which, in the long run, would come back to bite him in the ass.

"You believe in fate, right?"

I paused, cautious to answer this one. "No. I believe in destiny."

He swept himself from his seat and sat in my booth, leaning his head on the wooden back. I had never seen him look like this. This down trodden. This...dare I say... depressed. I was starting to regret that I ever said anything. "What's the difference?"

"Fate is something that tells me that I have no control over my life whatsoever. The only part I play in fate is a role that's already written for me. And destiny...well, my dad always told me that I had the power to create my own destiny through my choices and actions; that everything I do contributes to the future. Which is why I'm constantly spacing out. I think things though. Well, sometimes. Fate...that's just scary."

He nodded. He took me by the hand and pulled me from the booth. We left the restaurant after that and hardly said anything to each other on the way home. In fact, it wasn't until later when we were butt naked on my bed, limbs and sheets entangled, that he said anything. I slipped his shirt on, the crawled back into bed. He moved and laid on my stomach, staring up at me with wide, dark eyes. "What are you thinking?" he asked.

"The better question would be, 'what are you thinking?'" I smiled, feeling his torso stretching to breath along my thighs.

"I'm thinking, from what you said earlier, that I chose my destiny when I broke up with Michelle for you, and that changed my fate in the accident. That's why it wasn't me. I was getting a proverbial second chance so I could do this right."

It was such a romantic thing, but all I could do was stare at him not exactly knowing how to respond. 'I love you' seemed too simple. I wanted to break the silence. I wanted to let him know how that statement made me feel. Words just seemed so useless though.

I caressed his cheeks with the pads of my thumbs. He brought himself forward and kissed me. "You'll have me forever." I finally whispered, as he slid inside me for a second time.

- - - - - - - -

STARE AT THE SUN LYRICS - Go to my profile for lyrics to "Stare at the Sun" by Thrice.