This story is set over a year ago…I'm not exactly sure of the timeline of Nexus' first attack on RAW but I am pretty sure it was around the time of Randy's feud with Edge after Edge got drafted to RAW in 2010. I'm pretty sure it was after Randy got injured in that match with Edge at Over the Limit…

I heard somewhere that John Morrison and John Cena were close friends in real life…

"I don't get it."

John glanced up from his phone, at the man that had stopped where he was sitting on the bench backstage. John Morrison stood next to the bench, a frown on his face.

"Don't get what?" John asked, only half paying attention to him as he replied to the text.

"You and Orton," Morrison clarified.

"You don't have to get it," John stated with a shrug. He didn't deny anything, especially since he was sure that Morrison had seen his and Randy's first kiss.

"Why would you want him?" Morrison pressed. When John finally looked up at him, he could see concern shining in Morrison's dark eyes. He'd been friends with the guy for a few years…in fact, he was one of the few people who hadn't believed the rumors and he and Randy.

"He's not as bad as people think, Johnny," John said.

"Really?" He raised an eyebrow. "So, he's not the guy who put you in the hospital? He's not the guy who went after Stephanie McMahon just to get to Triple H? He's not the man who-"

"Alright." John held up a hand, cutting him off. "He did do all those things but come on, Johnny. People do change. You used to be not such a nice guy either, if you remember?"

Morrison grimaced at the reminder, no doubt thinking of his time tagging with Miz. "How do you know he's actually changed and this isn't some ploy?"

John thought about how Randy had looked when he'd shown up at John's door after he couldn't sleep, he thought about the insecurity in Randy's eyes when he'd asked if they could take things slow.

"It's not a ploy," John stated firmly.

Morrison studied him a moment. "Okay." He dropped down on the bench beside John.

"Just okay?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Morrison shrugged. "It's not like I can tell you what to do."

"If it makes you feel any better, it came as a complete surprise to me too," John said with a smile.

"A good one?" Morrison asked skeptically.

"Actually, yes."

"Fine." Morrison dropped it after that and John was grateful. He wondered if he'd have to defend his actions to more people. Well, he had friends backstage but not many close ones. He frowned when he thought about his family. Now, that might be harder…

Xxxxxxxx

"I'm fine," Randy got out through gritted teeth, but he did hiss in pain when the trainer prodded at his shoulder.

"Right." John chewed his lip as he watched. Randy's match with Edge had taken a bad turn about halfway through and John had been worried since. Concern had sprung up as soon as he'd seen Randy pull up short from performing his finishing move, as soon as he'd seen Randy holding his arm, the pain on his face…John had to force himself not to run down to ringside.

Randy was so obviously in pain, despite his protests against that fact and John wouldn't leave his side, hadn't seen Randy had finally made it backstage.

Xxxxxxxx

"It's not bad," Randy said, not for the first time, shifting where he was sitting against the headboard. The sling held his arm to his body and he watched John with some amusement. It was frustrating, sure, but Randy was feeling pretty lucky in the moment. He'd only be out of action for a month or so. At least he didn't need surgery this time.

"I know," John answered with a nod, finally sitting next to Randy.

"You were worried about me," Randy said with a grin, shifting so that he could face John.

John shrugged. "Course I was," he mumbled even as a slight blush rose on his cheeks.

Randy's smile only widened and he couldn't help but to lean into o kiss John. He hadn't had anybody truly worry about him in a long time.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I can't believe it," Randy said, staring at the screen.

"Me either," John agreed with a shake of his head. "I guess that's one problem I don't have to worry about."

"Guess so." Randy tilted his head. Onscreen, Batista was having a fit in the ring. "You think he's serious?"

"He quit," John said with a shrug. "If they take it seriously…"

Randy nodded. He'd hated Batista for years. He definitely wouldn't be losing any sleep over the man quitting and in such a childish way too.

"Guess that means you're in the fatal four way," John pointed out.

"Yeah." Randy eyed him. It would be the first match they'd be booked in against each other since they'd started the thing between them. It had been going well, better than that actually and Randy wasn't willing to do anything to screw it up.

Randy was a little surprised he'd been booked for the match at all, much less a match against Batista that would have taken place if Batista hadn't quit.

He knew that McMahon hated him but he had separated his shoulder in his last match with Edge and that wasn't completely healed just yet. He smiled when he thought about how John had been after the injury, at how worried he'd been…

"We should make a deal now," he spoke up, looking over to meet John's gaze.

"A deal?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, I mean…whatever happens during that match…it's not going to change things, right?"

"Of course not," John said immediately. "It was bound to happen sooner or later, wasn't it?"

"Unless one of us gets drafted, I'd say yes."

John groaned. "Don't jinx us, man."

Randy rolled his eyes and slapped John on the shoulder. "Hey, at least we don't have to worry about another draft for a year."

John glared at him, although there was no heat in it and Randy only laughed in response.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy was asleep when the attack happened. The television in his hotel room was still on, still tuned to RAW but Randy had fallen asleep about half way through it. Edge's attack on him from the week before had left his already injured shoulder screaming in pain and John had insisted he stay in the hotel and that he take a few of those little pills the doctor had prescribed.

Randy hadn't wanted to think about how easily he had given in to those demands when they came from John.

The pills had left him drowsy. He'd intended on staying up to watch John's match but had drifted off to sleep anyway. He missed it all. The rookies from NXT attacked decimated the ring; put both John and CM Punk on stretchers. Randy slept right through it.

Xxxxxxxxx

Randy didn't notice when he first woke. His head felt like it was stuffed with wool and he took a moment to reflect on how much he hated that feeling. But at least he had slept. The clock on the nightstand on his side of the bed read eight o'clock. He'd slept through the night.

He closed his eyes and laid there for a few minutes in an attempt to quell the disorientation he'd felt upon waking. Finally, he reached out with his good arm, expecting the feel of John's skin under his fingers but all he came in contact with was the sheets.

Frowning, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes before looking to John's side of the bed, which was empty. For a moment, he entertained the idea that John might have gotten his own room.

They still hadn't taken things all the way yet and they did still get separate rooms sometimes. Still, John had said that he'd be there after RAW ended and he hadn't gotten a separate room when they'd checked in.

Worry began to settle into his gut the longer he sat there and he reached for his phone, scrolling down to John's name quickly and hitting send.

"You've reached John Cena. Unfortunately I seem to be otherwise engaged so leave a message!"

"Dammit." He closed his phone. John's had gone straight to voicemail, which meant he had it turned off. If it were anybody else, he might not have worried but John was probably the most considerate person Randy had ever dated.

If John said he was going to be somewhere, he showed up and if he couldn't, he always called. The possibilities of what might have happened during the night ran through his mind. His first thought was that he'd done something to piss John off but he couldn't think of anything. Things between them were good.

That left something that kept John from being there and, after concentrating for a moment, Randy couldn't remember seeing the rest of RAW. He'd fallen asleep during, before John's match.

Lurching to his feet, Randy went to his and John's things, pulling out the laptop that John liked to carry with him and turning it on. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for.

His mouth went dry as he watched the NXT rookies attack John and he was shaking with anger and worry when he finally closed the laptop again. Quickly, he grabbed some clothes. It wasn't until he was lacing his tennis shoes that he stopped upon the realization that he had no idea where John was or how to get a hold of him.

John had been carried out on a stretcher so he was probably still in the hospital. Nausea rolled in his gut when he wondered if John was seriously injured. Randy had to see him and he ran through his options quickly. Sitting around and waiting for John to call him wasn't an option, especially since he had no idea if John even could call.

His imagination went into overdrive in that moment. It wasn't as if John hadn't had serious injuries before. He grimaced as he remembered a time, back during their first feud, when Randy had put the man in the hospital himself.

But this could be so much worse than a torn muscle. A decision made, Randy stood and left his room. He couldn't call anyone. Most of John's friends hated his guts. Still, he had seen John Morrison go into his hotel room the day before and he knew they were pretty good friends…

Xxxxxxxx

John Morrison groaned in frustration when pounding on his door woke him up. He lifted his head to look at the clock and sighed. He'd only went to bed a couple of hours earlier. He buried his head in the pillow, hoping that whoever it was would get lost but finally had to admit defeat and stumble towards the door when they didn't.

He only paused to pull on a pair of pants before he opened it and blinked in surprise, suddenly very alert at the sight of Randy Orton. The anger he had felt last night came back full force and he glared at Orton.

"What the fuck are you doing?" He asked.

"I need to know where John is," Orton blurted out quickly.

Morrison's eyes narrowed. "You should have been there last night," he pointed out angrily. He expected Orton to get defensive or angry himself. What he didn't expect was the flash of guilt in Orton's gray eyes or the words that escaped his mouth next.

"I know. I fell asleep. I didn't even find out until this morning."

Most of John's anger died down at the look in Orton's eyes. "He's going to be fine. He's got a concussion and he's probably going to be sore for a while. They're only keeping him because of the concussion." John couldn't help but to notice just how much tension seemed to leak out of Orton's body at his words.

"Where is he?" Randy asked again and the look in his eyes then was almost pleading.

John sighed. "Give me a minute." He went back in to grab a shirt. He probably wouldn't be able to get back to sleep anyway.