The rage died as quickly as it had started. As soon as Swagger and Batista were on the mat. As always, laying Batista out was very satisfying. He'd do that without any incentive besides the general hatred that nearly always burned bright whenever he looked Batista's way. He was hoping that Cena destroyed the son of a bitch at Wrestlemania.

It was when he got backstage that he finally caught wind of the rumors that had been running wild about himself and Cena. Randy only scoffed at them. He didn't give a damn about rumors and these new ones were ridiculous. He was only mildly surprised at how many people seemed to believe them.

Including, of course, his former teammate, who seemed to be the only one with the guts to approach him about it. Randy was in the parking lot, almost to his car when the voice called to him.

"You blew me off for Cena?" Cody's voice was indignant and he had come close, almost inside Randy's personal space. He seemed to have forgotten, for the moment at least, that they were no longer tagging together or that he and Ted had attacked Randy, repeatedly, over the past several weeks.

Randy glared down at him, gripping the keys in his hand hard. "You need to leave," he said slowly, voice barely controlled when, in an instant, the rage came back. He'd wanted to get out of the arena before Cena decided to confront him about what had happened earlier.

"Or what?" Cody scowled and Randy took a step closer to him. He didn't get a chance to respond, however, as a blinding pain took him to the concrete ground near his car. Randy rolled to his side, his hands reaching for his right knee, gritting his teeth to keep from yelling. He caught sight of Ted standing next to Cody and the weapon in his hand.

Ted glared down at him before dragging Cody away with him and Randy was left in the nearly deserted parking lot.

"Fuck," Randy cursed when he tried to bend his knee. He managed to sit up and lean back against his car after a few minutes and he reflected, as he pulled his pant leg up to get a look at his knee, that Cody was a bit more pissed at him than Randy had thought. The boy had gone out of his way to try and injure Randy.

Then again, it wasn't as if Cody was innocent. He'd never really been. It was a mistaken assumption people made when they looked at Cody's boyish face and big blue eyes and it was something that, sometimes, Cody liked to play up but Cody was about as innocent as Randy.

Randy still remembered that look of satisfaction on Cody's face whenever he managed to take another guy out.

"Having a bad day?" The voice startled Randy. The familiarity of that voice had Randy scowling as he looked up into the eyes of someone he'd hated for years.

"What the fuck do you want?" He asked through gritted teeth. He braced his hands on his car and pulled himself to his feet, jaw clenching as he tried to ignore the pain in his knee.

Batista took a step closer to him. "You interfered in my match tonight."

"That was a match?" Randy asked, disdainfully. "You need Swagger to take Cena out now?" He leaned close to Batista, carefully not putting weight on his right leg. He was aware, in some part of his mind, that antagonizing Batista when he was already hurt wasn't the smartest move in the world but he just couldn't seem to help himself. He never could, at least not with this man.

"Afraid to fight your own battles now?" The disgust in his voice was clear. Batista had been up on his own moral high ground for years, since he'd broken away from Evolution and had only come off it recently. The problem was that it wasn't real, that it was all fake. The hypocrisy of nearly everything that had flowed from the mans mouth since he'd won the world title for the first time had made Randy hate him even more than when he'd dropped Randy from his shoulders, and from Evolution, six years ago.

Randy wasn't a good person. There was pretty much nothing he wouldn't do to get what he wanted. He'd lived up to his own bad reputation but at least he'd never lied about who he was.

"Oh, no, Randy. I can fight my own battles." Batista's fists clenched and Randy tensed, preparing for a fight.

"Are you guys fighting?" A new voice interrupted what was going to happen. They both looked over at John Cena. "Because you know, fighting out here could be dangerous. Someone could get hurt." John was staring at Batista as he said the words.

Batista looked between Randy and John, judging his chances and seemed to decide that he didn't have one against both of them. Smart, Randy thought as Batista backed away from him.

"You better watch your back, Orton," Batista said before walking away. Randy only snorted in response. He'd heard that too many times to count.

"He do that?" John asked after Batista left, gesturing to Randy's knee.

"Nope," Randy answered lightly. He leaned against his car again now that Batista was gone, the grimace coming back to his face.

John shook his head. "You really know how to make enemies."

"What I'm best at." He tested his leg and had to suppress a cry when it gave out. He did not hit the ground, however. Suddenly, John was in his personal space, one hand on Randy's chest, the other on his shoulder, keeping him upright.

"Why are you helping me?" Randy asked him even as he braced himself by putting a hand on John's shoulder.

"Why'd you help me?" John countered. Randy gave a sigh and let John help him again.

Xxxxxxxxxx

"You sure you should be doing this?"

Randy did not look up to meet John's gaze at the question, instead focusing on his boots. After an awkward filled night of John helping him back to get checked out after Cody and Ted's second attack, Randy hadn't spoken to the man. Not since then at least.

"I'm fine," Randy answered shortly. At least, no lasting damage had been done. His knee was still a little swollen and it still hurt a little bit but he didn't really have a choice. He hadn't torn or broken anything so of course he had to be there for the match.

"You sure about that?" John asked skeptically. Randy didn't answer him. He could understand, he supposed. He and John had tagged several times before but they had only managed to actually work together once.

Plus, he was going into a handicapped tag team match with a busted knee. Randy wasn't willing to back down from it, though. Not after the attacks from Cody and Ted and definitely not after Batista's little threat. Besides, even if he wanted to back off, Randy had never endeared himself to his bosses. Vince and Stephanie still hated him for all the crap he'd pulled last year.

"You want to go into this thing alone?" Randy asked with a raised eyebrow, standing.

John shrugged. "Can I trust you?" He asked warily.

Randy only smirked. "You can trust that I really want to take them out and that I can't do it alone."

"So, what? You need me?" John asked with some amusement.

Randy shrugged. "You think anyone else would be willing to team with me?"

John paused. "You have a point," he admitted before following Randy out of the locker room.

Xxxxxxxxx

Things had certainly gone downhill fast. The match...he and Cena versus Cody, Ted, and Batista had gone alright at first. Randy had momentarily wondered why Batista would consent to a match with Cody and Ted after they had helped Randy break the man's arm, along with countless other attacks.

It was three on two, sure, but Randy and John were the top guys on RAW for a reason. It wasn't until John had been knocked off the apron, Batista had gotten a lucky shot in and Cody had been tagged for the first time for it to really start the slide downhill.

The rumors that had been started backstage about Randy and John had only been made worse since the first night John had helped Randy. After Randy's interference in John's favor the week before and then John helping Randy once again...well, these things, at least in the minds of everyone backstage, only confirmed that there was something going on between the two men.

It was this that may have been affecting Cody Rhodes as he stepped into the ring off the tag from Batista. Randy was lying in the middle of the ring, clutching his knee, still reeling from Batista's attack. Before he was aware of what he was doing, Cody began raining down closed fist punches and kicks on his former teammate. He could hardly hear his own voice but he was screaming.

"I hate you!"

Randy, for his part, was completely caught off guard by the attack and by what he heard in Cody's tone. Before he could regain control of himself and stop it, one of Cody's kicks caught him on the temple and the world darkened for just a second. Then Cody was on top of him.

Neither man heard the warning from the referee, or when Cody was disqualified. It was Ted who pulled Cody off Randy and it was John who came to his defense. They stood on either side of the ring as referee's flooded it, trying to keep the men apart.

Randy pulled himself up and sat back on his heels. He spat blood from a split lip on the mat before looking up to meet Cody's eyes. The look in the boy's eyes was what did it. He tasted his own blood and he didn't feel angry. All he felt was hollow.

Xxxxxxxx

The feeling would not leave. Randy sat in the locker room, still in his ring gear. The blood had dried on his face and his knee burned with pain but he hadn't moved from the position he was in since coming backstage. Most everyone had left already.

The feeling that had sprung up after Cody's uncharacteristic show of emotion simply refused to leave. He had no urge to get up.

Xxxxxxxxx

John shouldered his bag and glanced, once again, at Orton. The man hadn't moved once since the last time John had glanced over. John had taken a shower, dressed, and spoken to most of his friends backstage after the show was over. Orton was still in his ring gear.

This night, and the match, had surprised him. Not because of the disqualification. More because up until that point, he and Randy had been working rather well together. Randy had taken all his tags, had saved his ass once when the three they were facing had tried jumping him.

It was a different side of Orton and one that John found he rather liked. Randy was amazing in the ring when he was on his game. He was very talented and John had to admit that it was nice to have that talent working with him instead of against him.

John chewed his lip and hesitated at the door. His view of Orton had been altered, not just tonight. He wondered if Randy would sit there all night...John spoke without thinking about what was coming out of his mouth.

"You wanna grab a drink?"

Randy finally moved, looking up at John. He hesitated a moment before he shrugged. "Sure."

John watched as he grabbed his bag and searched out something to wear. He really hoped he wouldn't regret this later.