Disclaimer: All WWE related material is owned by Vince McMahon and is used here strictly for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement is intended.

Music Disclaimer: Lyrics used in this song are by Nick Lachey and no copyright infringement is intended.

Summary: John has been sentenced to two consecutive life terms in prison and away from the woman he loves. Trish is adapting to life without John, trying to stay strong for the sake of their newfound love. Can they survive the ultimate test to their relationship, one that neither of them expects or is prepared to fight?

Advisory: This is a first for a story of mine but something I think needs to be put here. This chapter will contain my personal take on a prison fight and there will be a fatal injury occurring in this chapter. So reader discretion is advised.

Authors Notes: I am taking a break from the song of the story and putting in another song for this chapter. It is by Coldplay and the name is Fix You. The lyrics here are used for entertainment purposes only and no copyright infringement is intended. Thank you for your support of this fiction. I appreciate it.

When you try your best but you don't succeed
When you get what you want but not what you need
When you feel so tired but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse

It was lunch time and the inmates were all milling around, awaiting their lunch orders to be placed before them, everyone branching off into their own groups, cursing, passing drugs and cigarettes around, some even planning on who was going to get beaten down next.

John sat alone, awaiting the time when the guards would stroll through the door of what felt like the asylum, to pass out the measly thing they considered a proper meal. Sure, when he had first started in the wrestling business he had been known to feast on nothing but raw potato, much like his idol at the time Stone Cold Steve Austin, but this was different.

For a place that had millions of dollars in funding handed to it every damn year, the meal selection was just downright disturbing. But this didn't faze John as he patiently waited for his number to be called when he would get some good old down home slop. Straight from the cow's ass, but that was neither here nor there.

He felt their eyes on him of course, they all knew who he was, at least who he had been on television but yet no one had come up and made a mention of it, or even bothered to get him to sign anything. At the very least that was the one thing he was happy about in the prison system. You might be famous but you were more infamous in there. No one cared what you did before you ended up there, they only cared what you did once you were there.

The guard came by his table then and threw a lunch tray down, making an awful crashing noise as it did. This got the attention of everyone around him and made them all stop and take notice of the man who was being singled out by the guards.

Should he say something or just bide his time the way he had been doing this whole time? Surely speaking up now would earn him nothing but a good beat down later and while he was good at taking it in the squared circle, he knew he just didn't want the hassle of it here. These guys, whether inmate or guard meant business.

When the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone but it goes to waste
Could it be worse

As soon as the last guard made his way out of the lunch room area though, he heard the scraping of chairs behind him. He didn't need to look to know that now that the cats were out, the mice were going to play, or rather cause shit. It had happened before and would surely happen again. So looking down at possibly the worst meal in history, minus Trish's horrible chicken, he began to eat. It was then that he felt it, something he hadn't seen coming and didn't think would ever happen.

The first blow was enough to knock him face first down into the table, but it was the next shot that really sent him over the edge. He tried to raise his head, tried to see who was attacking him, what they might possibly want from him but the minute he moved his head he felt another sharp punch from the other side of him knock his jaw out of place.

His mind was screaming to get up, to try and run from what was happening now but his body would not comply. Suddenly as he peered out he saw more and more men stand from the table and begin to make their way over to where he was now being pummeled and lifted out of his chair by the back of his uniform.

He hit the floor with a sickening thud and from there he was repeated kicked, over and over again until he could no longer feel his legs and lower torso and stomach. He felt the blood rising up in his throat and knew that if he didn't do something soon, or if someone didn't come to his rescue he was surely going to die here alone.

He tried to get up but his legs buckled out from under him and the kicking and stomping and punching continued until he was even finding it hard to breath. The numb feeling that had started in his mind was now travelling all throughout his body and he wondered if this was what it was like to be paralyzed.

Please God make it stop. He thought to himself, screaming inside for someone to help him, for someone to take him away from this hell and make sure he never returned. But no one was coming. He stood as well as he could, falling down again and finally got onto his knees and tried crawling like an infant to try and get away.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

He saw what he thought was a knife then, and he immediately made a move to get away faster. If he could just get to the door then he would surely be able to get away and make sure this wasn't the last memory he had before he died.

"How do you like us now Champ?" one of the inmates said as he continued to kick and stomp on John, threatening to take away the very last breath John seemed to have in him. He then felt a sharp stabbing pain in his stomach area and when he stopped slinking along and looked at his chest he saw the puddle of blood forming through his prison suit and now starting to slide down onto the floor.

Darkness came then and with one final blow he was out. The last thing he remembered as he passed out was that he hadn't made it to the door and now he was going to die of a stab wound to the chest.

The last vision he had before passing out made his heart sick for what he had done. His last vision was of her, dressed in white and telling him in soft hushed tones that she loved him. If he didn't know any better he could have sworn she looked like someone.

Trish Stratus the Angel was the last vision he had before hitting the floor with a sickening crack.

High up above or down below
When you too in love to let it go
If you never try you'll never know
Just watch and learn

The phone rang, causing her to stop her trek to the door, on her way to pick up Shawn from the airport as they had planned and to cast a look at the ringing device. Just who could be calling her now, right when she was about to take steps to put her life and the life of the man she loved back on course. Surely it couldn't be Jeff again.

She walked back into the house and picked up the receiver not recognizing the number that was now showing on her caller ID. Putting the phone to her ear she pushed the talk button and spoke, hoping that it wasn't Jeff calling again to ask her to meet with him. She had about as much as she could take of Hardy and his attempts at making up for the past.

"Hello?"

"Is this Mrs. Cena?"

Her eyes widened then and she began to question just what in the hell was going on here. Who was this calling her and why were they referring to her as Mrs. Cena when she wasn't even close to being that way with John. It clicked in then that maybe this had something to do with John and he had given them her number and told them she was his wife.

"Yes, who is this?"

"It's Harrison Granger, the Warden at the Kingston Penitentiary. Ma'am, I am calling about an incident involving your husband that happened earlier today."

Something had happened to John? What had he gotten himself into now and just how had the guard known to call her of all people?

"What happened to John? Is he alright? Was he hurt? Can I come and see him?" all of the questions came flying out of her mouth before she had the chance to think them through. John had to be alright he just had too.

"No Ma'am he isn't alright. He has been taken to a local hospital with stab wounds to three major arteries and he has lost a hell of a lot of blood. Your name was his emergency contact so you are the first person I called." The man continued to give her the Hospital name and details about the fight that had taken place in the lunch hall, all the while bringing the pregnant Trish to her knees in absolute horror. She hung up the phone and ran from the house, calling Shawn on his cell phone immediately and leaving him a message telling her where to meet him. She got behind the wheel of the car and took off as fast as she could down the suburban road.

She only hoped she could get to him in time. There was no way he could die on her before she had the chance to tell him just how much she cared and needed him.

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you