Thanks to CenaRKO1986, FANSOFJOLINASPUFFY, SMango, Unleashed From Within, Prima-Donna2002, ICan-handle, FansofCenaton, Bravada, 3merald princ3ss, DARKDAUGHTERS18, Pixy Polly, appolo1214, and Tinkrbell225 for these wonderful reviews! These are the reviews that keep me going, you all have no idea!

Once again, I'm so sorry for this super late updated! You have no idea how busy I've been with all of my coursework. It's been insane. Thankfully, though, I'm out of school, which means these chapters will be coming out a bit faster. I do enjoy these chapters to be long, which is one of the many reasons why it's taking so long for them to come out. I also have other stories to work on, so I'm coming back and forth. But anyways – yeah, these will be coming out more! Thanks to those who have stuck with me! You guys are so brilliant!

~ Shandy777

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

~ Chapter 3 – Intertwined ~

He had no idea what was going on, what was driving him to slam the Evil against the wall and assault his lips with his own, but at that particular moment, affable sensations were surging through his veins, clouding his judgment. At that moment, nothing in the world could have stopped the Good One from devouring the man before him. There was just something about the taste of Randy Orton's skin – variegated with the propelling adrenaline that was filling his veins – that thwarted his inner thoughts from blaring at how stupid a move John Cena was making. Strong arms wrapped tightly around the Evil, John couldn't help but allow the growl from emanating from deep within his throat at just how impeccable Orton tasted, how seamless their tongues battled together in a never ending war as John pinned Randy against the brick wall, his hands crawling under the man's shirt, running his fingers up and down the flawless skin. A low groan seeped through Randy's lips, but that did nothing to relinquish the firm hold Cena had on the Evil.

The kiss was – for lack of a better word – heavenly as Orton's tongue danced along with Cena's, his arms wrapping around the Good One's neck, locking the man in place. His heart was excelling the normal rate of any human and, as much as he never wanted the kiss to end, there was just something that was on his mind, something that would most definitely continue to nag at him until he finally gave in and asked the question he desperately needed an answer to before his emotions and sensations could take complete control, inhibiting him from stopping when things got too far. Unwinding his arms from around the Good One's neck, Randy shoved the big man away from him. A look of surprise flitted across John's face, but the Evil ignored it. "What are we doing here, Cena? What is this?"

Taking a moment to collect his rapid heartbeat, Cena ran a hand over his short brown hair, his sapphire eyes studying the Evil before him. An unorthodox feeling suddenly crept upon him, startling him slightly since he had never felt such a thing in a very long time. Randy 'The Viper' Orton was definitely driving the Good One mad, because never in his several hundreds of years had he ever felt annoyed before. He was genuinely annoyed and frustrated and so completely turned on by the Evil, and he had no idea why! Shaking his head in exasperation, John merely shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, and for the first time in a long time … I really just couldn't give a damn."

Grabbing the front of Cena's shirt, Randy jerked the Good One forward, once again enfolding his arms around John as their lips reconnected for a second time. Pressing him firmly against the wall, Cena rested his hands on the man's narrow hips, his fingers squeezing into the bone, eliciting a hungry moan from the trapped Evil. Wasting no time at all, quickly coming to the conclusion that this – whatever this was, in fact – had to happen now, the Evil shoved his tongue deeper into the hot cavern, the muscle fighting for dominance with the other appendage. While one hand remained draped around John's neck, Orton's free hand slowly slithered down Cena's body, moving down his chest, his fingers running along soft skin that stretched across taut muscle until finally reaching the desired location. The Good One's body was hard and tone and it took everyone Orton had to not rip the man's shirt off right then and there.

Another question was slowly starting to effervesce its way to the surface of his mind, and that was if they were translucent or opaque. Normally it wasn't an issue – they could choose to be there with the people or hidden in the shadows, walking amongst the humans without their knowledge. Now though … with their emotions running faster than they wanted, but being unable to stop it, the Evil didn't know if they were coming in and out of focus. Of course, that thought was immediately forced to the back of his mind when the Good One – whose hands were running up and down his back, one hand sliding to cup one of his cheeks – pushed himself against Orton, Cena's erection brushing against his own creation, as well as the inside of his thigh. Unable to contain the moan he so desperately tried to suppress, Randy let it out, permitting his head to fall back against the brick wall he was currently propped against, whimpering the second John's lips latched onto his neck, sucking and lapping at the flesh.

"Fuck it," John suddenly growled, unable to take the interval delay any longer. His cock – now thick and leaking with precum – was aching with longing, and the Good One didn't want to wait any longer, which was why he wrapped his fingers around the Evil's wrist. "Get on your knees," He instructed, but before he could even allow Orton to process his words, Cena yanked the man down before joining him, pushing him down onto the hard concrete, quickly covering the Evil's lean body with his own.

Grabbing ahold of the black shirt that was stretched tightly across Orton's body, John jerked the Evil up, quickly ridding the man of the garment and tossing it to the side before eradicating his own shirt. Somewhere in the back of his mind, John could see the swirl of colours dancing around them, immersing them in a tantalizing sway of blues, reds, and blacks, but the yearning was too powerful to push behind, which was why the Good One engrossed himself in the Evil. His lips attached to the Evil's collar bone and started to leave a trail down his chest, taking time to nip and peck at the hard muscle and soft skin. The moans and laments coming from Randy were cherubic as he slowly made his way further down Orton's body. Teasing at the end, John kissed the skin that was above the hem of his jeans, his tongue periodically flicking out, goading the flesh that resided underneath the clothing that covered the lower part of Orton's body. Cena could feel the Evil's annoyance and impatience starting to increase with each flick of the tongue – as well as the hungry desire to fulfill his needs.

Finally, enough was enough and, with haste, Randy sat straight up, making Cena break the contact. Grabbing a hold of John's neck, the Evil flipped John over and onto his back. The intent was to scramble on top of the Good One, remove the articles of clothing that were blocking their throbbing cocks, and fuck John senseless, but – shockingly – that wasn't how it panned out. The second John's back connected with the concrete ground, with rapid speed, Cena turned them over again, his huge muscular thighs straddling Orton's leaner body while his hands wrapped around Orton's wrists, thrusting them down onto the ground on either side of his head, pinning him with no escape.

Heavy breathing and cold stares were shared between the two supernatural beings as they glowered at each other. Trust wasn't something they shared for one another and, as they stared each other down, their momentary lust put on hold, both had to wonder what they were even doing. They had to wonder if what they were doing was going to have some ramifications that could jeopardize everything they were, and destroy the bonds of trust they had with their own people. Randy was the first to break the glare. Turning his head to the side, his icy, pale blue eyes narrowed at the tightness John had on his wrists, of how firm his thighs were on either side of his body, holding him down and in submission – something that Orton hated beyond a shadow of a doubt.

"Let me go."

"Why?" John asked his voice low and husky as he continued to watch the Evil below him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he could sense that Randy wasn't taking any pleasure in being held down like any other. Evils were tricky creatures – they fed off of violence and they loved to mess with their victims, pretending that they were down and in submission before turning the tables and doing just what they set out to do. John didn't want to be a victim, he didn't want to lose his head and allow Randy 'The Viper' Orton to destroy everything he had worked for, which was why his grip never wavered, never loosened, not even when Orton started struggling against the hold.

"I said let me go!" He snapped, black and red shimmers radiating off of his body like heat. His hands were clenched tightly in fists as he struggled against the hold Cena had on him, his muscles bulging as he tried to free himself. If there was one thing Randy hated more besides being held down again his will, it was how the image of The Undertaker always seemed to come into mind, plaguing his entire being, scaring him beyond hope.

"I won't let you hurt me, Evil," John shook his head, his senses picking up on the sudden hostility that was emanating from The Viper. A part of him was genuinely concerned as to why the Evil was acting the way he was, but the other part – the more dominant part – was aware of the games they all liked to play, so he decided to become more vigilant in his approach of safety.

"I'm not going to fucking hurt you, damn it. I just want you to let me go," The Viper growled through gritted teeth. He hated going through that kind of fear, that paranoia when he knew that Taker wasn't anywhere near him. It was just the thought, that quick, unexpected flicker of recognition that sprouted wings and refused to allow him to believe anything different when he already knew the truth. That was how Taker worked, though – he thrived on bringing fear, on stalking and breaking down his prey, his enemies and desires. "Please, just let me go."

Against his better judgment, Cena acquiesced to Orton's request, the sudden frantic whisper deriving from the Evil shocking him greatly. Evils were just that – evil. They didn't ask, they took, they stole, and they sinned. And even though this Evil did all of those things … there was just something about him that wasn't right. There was no humanity in the being, but there were flickers of mortality, something that no Evil should possess. When they become Evils, they lose all sense of benevolence and compassion, charity, and become cruel, inhuman. Randy Orton, however, seemed to be a mixture of both …

Hands pressed firmly against his shoulders and before Cena could rationalize what was happening, he was shoved hard onto the concrete floor while Orton stood to his feet, his chest heaving with pent up anger and rage. He was at a disadvantage, John knew that, but as he looked up into the cold, icy, pale blue eyes of The Viper, what he saw was … other. Instead of striking, instead of destroying his very being, the Evil merely glowered down at him before turning around and quickly making his way through the crowds of people in the city of Paris, France. Instead of yelling and screaming and attempting to turn him into the thing he pledged his life to stop, Randy Orton didn't touch him. Confusion and curiosity leaking through, driving his actions, John swiftly jumped to his feet and made his way through the multitudes of people in an effort to catch up to the Evil, to question him and apologize.

Apologize … in the several hundreds of years that he'd been a Good One, not once did John Cena ever believe he'd actually be contemplating an apology to an Evil, and not just any Evil – the Evil. Besides The Undertaker and his other half, Randy 'The Viper' Orton was the one that all Good Ones feared. He was the one with the power, the stamina, and the smarts to outwit all – supernatural beings and mortals. But then why did he not do anything? Evils and Good Ones don't mesh. They hate each other. If given the opportunity, most Evils and Good Ones would jump at the chance to rid the other of an enemy. So why didn't Randy Orton?

Finding Orton wasn't hard at all for John to do, mostly because the Evil was walking around without a shirt on – that, and the black and red shimmers that were emitting from his entire body was enough of a giveaway. Carefully maneuvering his way through the masses, Cena soon gathered step, getting closer and closer to the retreating form of the Evil.

"Hey!" He called his voice easily discernible over the voices of the crowded city. But, of course, it was easily heard for them. Regardless, John's voice did nothing to elicit the attention of The Viper, who made no recognition of hearing the Good One at all. "Randy, stop!"

The deep voice of the Good One was thundering through his ears, but Randy did nothing to stop as he pushed his way through a thick group of people. He needed air, needed to get out of the area and find a place where he could relax and stop thinking for once. Cody was right – he never should have tried to confront John Cena about the souls they were obviously connected to. He shouldn't have tried to confront him when it was too dangerous to begin with. But that was Randy Orton – always thinking, always rationalizing everything … always the cocky one. Look where it got him this time, though. Not only could he have been killed by John Cena, but he panicked when the Good One had him pinned down on the hard concrete ground. That had never happened before. There was always that underlining fear of The Undertaker stalking him, sneaking up on him, touching him, but it was just becoming too much now for Randy to take. He felt like he was slowly losing his mind the longer he was in the presence of the half Ruler of the Underworld. He was never left alone and he was always in a constant state of fear.

"Please, just stop!" John suddenly shouted, startling The Viper a moment before slowly turning around, those icy, pale blue eyes quickly locking on the Good One. He was standing in the middle of a huge crowd of people, though they couldn't see him, and the expression on his face was a mixture between exasperation and impatience. With Orton finally looking at him, John made his way over to him, closing the distance between them. He stopped before him, his eyes full of sympathy as he slowly shook his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"No, you had a right to protect yourself," Randy shook his own head, his gaze turning downward. He hated that he felt so pathetic and he hated that he felt like he had to justify everything. "I just … what are we doing here?"

Furrowing his brows in confusion, John shrugged his shoulders. "I don't understand-"

"This," Randy said as he motioned between the two of them. His voice grew due to the rising annoyance that was coming with the situation. "What are we doing? We're enemies and we were getting ready to fuck? You don't even know me. I could kill you right now if I wanted to."

"Do you?" As much as it shocked him, John found that the only answer he wanted to know was if Randy cared. Deep down in his subconscious, the Good One knew that he was treading on rocky waters, that the one thing he was doing wrong, he just didn't care about. Maybe it was Desire at work, maybe it was just his own curiosity and humanity at play, but he just couldn't seem to give a damn at that moment. The only thing he did care about was that answer. "Do you want to kill me?"

"I don't kill unless threatened. That back there was just …" Eyes cutting back to the alleyway Randy found himself in with the Good One, Orton merely shrugged his shoulders. He was suddenly beginning to feel really tired with everything that was going on. There was just so much going on with him, Randy felt as though he could barely stand with the weight that was resting on him. "What happened back there was just me. It had nothing to do with you."

"What happened?" John asked, cocking his head to the side as he watched the many emotions flitter across Orton's face.

"What?" Randy replied back, mild shock marring his perfect face as he looked back at Cena.

Shrugging his shoulders, John merely crossed his arms and looked around them, at the people who were milling around them without the acknowledgement of their presence. "Something obviously must have happened to make you respond that way. I mean, I know I probably didn't help, but I honestly thought that you were going to try something on me. Most Evils do."

"I'm not most Evils," Randy allowed himself a small smile as he countered. "I'm-"

"Desire – I know," John finished for him. The dimples that he displayed were charming, and the Good One couldn't help but notice how Randy's eyes traveled down to them, how those icy, pale blue eyes gazed over his face, as though he were imprinting his features into memory.

"Actually, I was going to say that I'm not a dick like they are, but I guess that'll work, too."

Face turning serious, John took a step forward, the distance between them slowly closing up. Once again, their essences started to tangle together, the blues, blacks, and reds twisting and twirling together in never ending swirls that neither seemed to have noticed. All the two seemed to care about at all was each other. John was staring at Randy with a look that was an amalgam of curiosity and lust, while Orton's showed caution and covetousness.

"I've never met anyone like you," John finally said, breaking the silence that had befallen them. Eyes scanning over the perfection that was Orton's face, the Good One's hand reached out and softy trailed his fingertips up Randy's bare arm, the light touches stimulating goosebumps. "Can I ask you a question?"

Unable to use his words, Orton merely nodded his head, involuntarily taking a step forward, the feel of Cena's touch comforting and safe – the exact opposite of how it felt when Taker's hands were on him. His heart was racing and his mind was in a jumble, but at the same time, he could hear and see everything.

"Why didn't you kill me back there? You had the chance, you had the opportunity, but you just … walked away," Shaking his head, John peered up into those icy, pale blue eyes, trying to comprehend and discern the mystery that was The Viper. "Any other Evil would have ended me right then and there. You didn't."

"I didn't want to," Randy confessed, knowing that what he was revealing was something dangerous, something that could be used against him if his earlier theory was correct – that John was merely toying with him, and that everything he was doing was simply to get some sort of leverage over him. But after watching Cena's curious expression contort into something a bit more shocking, Orton had a feeling that he might not have to worry about the Good One betraying him, that John was sincerely good and trusting. And as much as the Evil knew he probably shouldn't trust him back in return, there was just something deep down that commanded him to do so – most importantly though … he wanted to. "I just … I know what I am, I just don't like it."

"You're something extraordinary, you know that?" John found himself saying, his sapphire eyes searching those icy, pale blue orbs with curiosity.

Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, Randy allowed himself another small smile before looking down. "So I've been told."

Dimples flashing, John chuckled and shook his head. There it was – that cockiness and arrogance that all Evils seemed to possess. Of course, he had a witty reply that he was getting ready to retort back, but a protective sensation immediately overtook the Good One, and John quickly turned his attention to the source of the desperate cry and found the woman that was calling to him. The woman was terrified as she quickly ran past them, her pace filled with urgency as she ran in her heels, pushing and shoving people to get out of her way. Without even thinking about what he was doing – or what he'd be dragging along – Cena grabbed Orton's hand and pulled him in the direction the blonde woman ran off in, his only objective was finding and saving that woman's soul. When they found her, she was leaning against the side of a building, her body flushed against it as she panted for breath, the tears streaming down her face as she shook from fear.

Releasing Randy's hand, the Good One glanced around before becoming translucent. Concern filled his gaze as he slowly took a few steps towards her, immediately gaining her attention. "Maryse …"

The blonde woman now labeled as Maryse opened her eyes and gasped, her thin body giving out on her as she looked around at the world that had suddenly frozen. The once bustling city of Paris, France was silent and still, the bodies in the streets motionless. Her cries of fear only seemed to increase as she extended her hands out, attempting to beg for her life, though no sound could escape her lips other than her sobs.

"Hey, hey," John said, his voice soft and gentle as he got on his knees before the frightened woman, his hands up defensively, as well, showing her that he wasn't going to harm her in any way. "It is okay, Maryse. Everything is going to be okay."

"H-how do you know my name?" Maryse asked her voice just as shaky as the rest of her body. Her eyes were wide as she looked from John to the rest of the frozen city. She was convinced that she was seeing things that she must have fallen and hit her head, and this was the aftermath. The blonde woman shook her head, blinked her eyes several times, doing anything she could think of to wake up from the strange unconsciousness, but nothing happened. When she opened her eyes, the man with the beautiful sapphire eyes was still there, still staring at her with a look of patience. He smiled, his dimples on display, showing her how friendly he was. He exerted warmth and a feeling of safety, and even though Maryse tried to remain cautious and alert, there was just something about him that got to her, convincing her to just drop her guard, that she'd be alright to do so.

"My name is John and I know everything about you, Maryse. I'm here to help you," He finally said, watching the blonde woman very closely after his revelation.

"I don't … I don't understand," Maryse said, shaking her head again. "What's happening? Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"The only thing I want from you is happiness and safety," John said, holding his hand out. He wouldn't reach for her, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her any more than she already was, so he waited. After a moment's hesitation, Maryse lifted a shaky hand and put it in John's much larger one. The Good One gave her a kind smile before continuing. "You're not happy, are you, Maryse?" She shook her head in reply, her eyes casting downward. "If you're not happy then why are you still with Curt Hawkins?"

"I … I don't have any money of my own. If I stay with him then he provides everything for me. I won't have to worry about anything," Maryse answered, shamefully. She had told herself so many times before that what she was doing was the right thing to do. After all, Curt Hawkins had lived up to his end of the deal, taking care of her, giving her a nice place to live and enough money to do with what she will. It was just as of recently that he started to change his behaviour, sticking around longer than he should … touching her … it didn't take long for Maryse to figure out what was happening, and even though she hated it, what could she do? Curt Hawkins was the only thing keeping her from living on the streets.

"But you know what he's doing is wrong."

"I don't have a choice," Maryse shook her head before looking back up at John. "Who are you, anyway? How do you know so much about me?"

Squeezing her hand lightly, John gave a reassuring smile before moving a bit closer to her, taking her other hand in his. "Think of me as that little guy on your shoulder guiding you down the right path. I want to take care of you, Maryse, but first, you have to take care of yourself."

"So you're my … conscience …?"

"Yes, in a manner of speaking, I am."

Maryse couldn't believe what she was hearing, but for some odd reason, she actually believed the man named John, trusted that he was telling her the truth. All at once, the weight of what she was carrying on her shoulders bared down on her, crushing her, making her feel weak, pathetic, naïve for even believing a word Curt Hawkins every said to her. Like he would actually take care of her without wanting something back in return, and that one thing he wanted was something she didn't want to just give away on a whim.

"What do I do?" Maryse found herself asking, another wave of tears forming in her eyes as she stared at John. "I don't want to live like this."

"You already know what you need to do, Maryse. Gather what you need and leave. You are a beautiful and strong woman, and you're smart, which means you have the power to take care of yourself. You don't need that guy doing it for you, especially when he is only taking care of you for one reason."

"Where will I go?"

"Anywhere, but here," John said, his voice gentle. He didn't want to tell the blonde woman what would happen if she continued to stay around Paris, France, particularly with that Curt Hawkins character around, so he decided to hint around the edges, warn her, but not fully express what would – and possibly could – happen if she stuck around. "You said that he gave you money, correct?"

Maryse nodded her head, her attention direct and focused. "He gives me several hundred to go shopping every week. He told me it was to pamper me, that I was too beautiful to do anything else."

"Take that money, Maryse, buy a plane ticket, and fly to Los Angeles, California. You'll be safe there," John instructed his eyes boring into the blonde woman's, hoping she would understand how crucial it was for her to get out as fast as she can. "When you get there, find a hotel, pay with cash, and find a job. Take care of yourself."

"Will I be happy?" She asked her eyes propitious.

Smiling, John nodded his head. "You will be happy. I promise."

Maryse was on her knees when she blinked, the world around her loud, full of bustling people trying to get to and from. She had no idea what came over her, why she felt so rejuvenated and ready to take on the world, but for some reason, she just didn't care. The blonde woman felt excited and elated and, as she pushed herself to her feet, Maryse knew that things were going to get better. A plan soon formed in her head and she walked confidently down the street. Maybe a trip to America was in order, perhaps LA, even. She had heard all about it, knew that that was where all of the action happened. Perhaps she could audition for a movie or see if she could model. The possibilities were endless and to be honest, Maryse couldn't wait.

With that euphoric feeling making its way through Cena's body, the Good One took a moment to close his eyes and take in the pleasant sensations, loving the feel of a saved soul. It was heavenly and it made him feel as though there really was hope. Sapphire eyes immediately shot open when he felt a darker presence behind him, and the Good One quickly turned around, only to find Randy Orton staring at him with an odd expression on his face. He had almost forgot that the Evil was there, and then he remembered grabbing his hand and pulling him along as he followed Maryse Ouellet through the people. Only then did John realize just how much danger he had put his charge in, how close she could have been to falling into the depths of evil. Nothing happened, though, and that's what surprised Cena the most as he stared back at The Viper. Why didn't he do anything?

"That's how you do it then?" Randy finally asked. It was then that John realized that throughout the entire saving process, The Viper never became visible to Maryse. He stayed back, unseen. "I've never seen a soul being saved before."

"Why didn't you do anything?" John questioned in response. The tone of his voice was both forceful and blunt, but laced with confusion and curiosity. The Good One could feel his heart pounding in his chest faster than that of a human. The sudden boost of adrenaline that coursed through Cena was shocking due to the fact that it only came because Randy 'The Viper' Orton controlled his need for a lost soul. This was something that could change the entire game. "You could have done it, but you didn't. You turned Melina when I was trying to save her. Why didn't you turn Maryse?"

"Maybe that's the exact reason why I didn't, besides the fact that I didn't want to," Randy said, taking a step back. He didn't like the way John was demanding an answer out of him, didn't like that he had a look on his face as though he had just discovered something, though he had. The Evil knew what Cena was thinking and he hated that he allowed it to come to that. Slowly his walls started to build, his expression cold. "Don't get any ideas, Cena. You won't get far with them."

"Evils aren't able to hold off their impulses, Randy! They can't stop themselves, but you did. You're special …"

"Yes, I thought we already distinguished that much," The Evil said his voice crisp as he stared hard at John, who was pacing excitedly, though he had no idea why. All he knew was that he didn't trust the way John was acting and grew cautious of it even.

"Do you have any idea what this means?" John asked his tone animated while his sapphire eyes sparkled in the sun. Without warning, Cena closed the distance between them and grabbed Randy's arms, pulling him close, ignoring the warning hiss that emanated deep within Orton's throat. "If you are able to stop corrupting then maybe you are able to save, as well."

"Excuse me?" Randy questioned after a moment, the annoyance in his voice gone, being replaced with utter confusion. What was he saying?

"You're stronger, Randy – stronger than me, stronger than all of the Good Ones. You could be the one to switch sides, to save this world."

"Okay, this is too much," Randy said, quickly freeing himself of John's grip. He took several steps back and crossed his arms, immediately feeling too exposed and out in the open, even though he was still concealed from the busy city and clumps of people still milling around them. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

"You're good. You don't see it, you don't believe it, but it's the truth. You're strong, because The Undertaker made you this way, but this isn't you. You didn't ask for this, did you?"

"What are you proposing exactly, Cena?"

Cocking his head to the side, the Good One could see that the Evil before him was starting to get agitated with the way the conversation was going. It was sure to be confusing, considering that corrupting was the only thing he knew for the longest time, so Cena knew that it was time to just let it go for the time being. He wouldn't ignore it, though, and he wouldn't let it dwindle away. He loved what he was doing and he knew that, with the way things were going, it wouldn't be long before Evil manifested into something far greater than what it was now. For the time being, though, John would let it go.

"I'm proposing nothing," He finally said, giving a small smile before looking around. "I have to get back to Paradise. Will I see you again?"

"Oh, I'm sure we will," Randy replied, nodding his head lightly as he studied the Good One. He had no idea what was going on with him, but he wasn't sure what he liked more – not know what Cena was talking about or not caring at all.

A dimpled smile was his only gesture of a goodbye as John disappeared, leaving Orton alone in the city of Paris, France. That was fine with him, though. He needed time to think, to clear his head and get it back into the right frame of mind.

You're special …

You're good … You don't see it, you don't believe it, but it's the truth …

You're strong … The Undertaker made you this way …

But this isn't you …

He had no idea what that meant at all – any of it. Obviously, he was Taker's favourite; he had never seen anyone get as much attention as he did when the half Ruler of the Underworld was around. Was that what the Good One was referring to? The fact that Taker was always pushing him to corrupt, to keep corrupting and ever stop – even though he did a hell of a lot more when they were alone? John Cena's sudden revelation that he was good and that he was strong enough to fight was shocking to Orton, and he didn't know what to do with the newfound information. What did Cena want him to do with it? Surely he didn't want Randy to fight Taker, because that would be a horrible mistake. He might be strong – as Cena says – but questioning Taker's position and threatening to overtake him would only result in his death … that or punishment. It wasn't worth the risk if that's what Cena was thinking.

He had to admit, though, the thought was fun to play around with. A world without Taker's prying hands and harsh grip was something to think about. He could live without it that was for sure. Another thing he could live without was those disgustingly cold lips on his skin. Just thinking about that cold, dark, claustrophobic feeling of being trapped against the wall while Taker assaulted and violated him just made him shudder.

Regardless of how Randy felt with Taker's hands on him, he pushed it aside as he shimmered off to another part of the world, coming to rest at his favourite place – the San Francisco Bridge. Sitting down on the metal at the very top, the Evil leaned back and closed his eyes, letting out a content sigh as he thought back to what had just transpired. At the moment, he just didn't want to really think, so instead, he decided to recall what he felt when the Good One's hands were on him, running up and down his body. He reminisced on how it felt to have those lips on him, kissing him, pecking at his hot skin. It was a feeling Randy enjoyed and something he couldn't wait to experience again.