Randy knew John was there, even before he opened his eyes.

He was laying in his bed, cotton sheets wrapped around his warm body, sticking to him because he was getting hot and starting to sweat. His eyes were shut, and his body was completely still, but he hadn't been sleeping. Sleep had been avoiding him for nearly an hour now, but he didn't want to wake up just yet. He didn't want to talk to Morrison. As nice as the guy was, as much as he had been trying to make Randy feel better about the situation, the fact was that Morrison wasn't Cena. And that alone was enough to make Randy not want to talk with him…plus, talking to Morrison acknowledged the fact that he, Randy Orton, had been attacked and raped by Wade Barrett. God, just thinking about that was enough to make Randy want to break something…preferably Barrett's nose. He'd been in shock when he first woke up, unable to believe what had happened. After the shock came shame; like a dirty blanket, it enveloped his entire body, making him want to rub his skin until he scrubbed away the feeling of Barrett's fingertips on his flesh. He'd scratched at himself, dragging his nails across his forearms and wrists until Morrison threatened to call Hunter. He'd stopped then, knowing he couldn't bear to face his former mentor after what Barrett had done to him. Despite Morrison's reassurances that none of this was Randy's fault, he couldn't help but feel disgusted with himself, as if he had done something horribly, grossly wrong. That feeling made Randy want to shut his eyes—shut out the world—forever, and that was why, when he couldn't sleep any longer, he merely lay in the bed, pretending to still be knocked out.

He heard the knocking on the door, heard Morrison stand up, heard the click of the doorknob turning, heard whispered voices, and then finally soft footsteps on the carpet. The door shut, and Randy heard someone approaching the side of the bed. Somehow he knew it was John; of course, he had recognized his voice instantly, even though it was obvious that Cena had been trying to be quiet. Morrison had left the room, he could tell from the stifling silence that filled the air as John came to a halt at his bedside. There was a scuffling against the carpet as John pulled out the chair that Morrison had been occupying. A soft grunt as he lowered himself down, his thick body gracefully sliding into the cushioned seat of the hotel chair. Pure, uninterrupted silence followed…and Randy found his heart quickening, pulse racing as he tried to steady his breathing, tried to appear asleep. As thrilled as he was to have Cena so close to him, he couldn't help but feel afraid. What would he say to John? What would John say to him? Part of Randy was scared that he would say the wrong thing, that he'd push John away…and another part of him, some deep, dark place in his mind, was afraid that John wouldn't have the right words to say. That John wouldn't be able to make this better, that John wouldn't be able to make him happy again. Randy couldn't get through this on his own…in the several hours that had passed since the incident, he'd come to that conclusion. And if John couldn't help him…well, Randy might as well take a leaping jump into hell right now.

"I know you're awake."

Randy's eyes snapped open, icy-pale irises immediately turning to focus on John. The Chaingang soldier was leaning forward in the chair, elbows set on the mattress, his chin resting on his hands. Cena was staring at Randy with tired, sagging eyes.

"You don't have to pretend to be sleeping." John chided softly, lips curving into a small, sad smile.

Suddenly Randy felt very, very foolish. Placing his palms down on the mattress, he pushed down, grimacing in pain as he tried to sit up.

"No!" John reached forward, placing his hand on Randy's deltoid, holding him in place.

"I want to sit up…" Orton protested, glaring up at John.

"You're still hurt." Cena shook his head, gently pressing down on Randy's arm.

"I'm ok." Randy insisted, but it was no use. He was still sore from the attack, and John's bulky, muscular arm was far too strong for him to fight. Cena wasn't even trying and he was easily holding Randy down with one hand.

They fell silent then, and John left his hand on Randy's shoulder, even though he wasn't struggling anymore.

"I don't remember you bringing me here." Orton muttered, eyes falling away from John's stony gaze.

"You were going in and out of consciousness the entire ride over." Cena replied slowly, his fingers tracing across Randy's bare skin over his shoulder, "By the time we got to the hotel, you were completely out."

"I don't remember any of that…" Randy said, eyes clouding over as he searched his mind for any remnants of the events after…after the incident. It was so strange, the last thing he remembered was lying on the tile floor in his locker room…and then to wake up in his own bed? Without any recollection of how he got there? It was disconcerting, almost frightening.

"You carried me all the way from your car up to here?" Randy raised his eyebrows as he looked back up at John, "That couldn't have been easy…"

John shrugged, "It was nothing. I'm just surprised I didn't run into anyone."

"I'm glad you didn't take me to the hospital." Randy murmured, his voice low as he avoided Cena's eyes, "Thanks."

"Believe me, I wanted to." John scowled, his fingertips absentmindedly circling against Randy's warm arm, traveling down from his shoulder to his bicep, "But I knew you wouldn't want me to. I knew you'd be furious if I did."

"You're damn right I would've been furious." Randy growled, eyes darkening, "Nobody else needs to know about…this."

"If I brought you to a hospital...they might've been able to send him to jail." Cena's hand moved down from Randy's bicep, fingers drawing across his wrist, feeling the bumps of the muscles and tendons.

"I don't care." Randy shook his head adamantly, twitching under John's light touch, "I just…I just want to forget about this. I don't want the whole fucking world to know."

John didn't say anything. He was staring at Randy's wrist, his fingers outlining invisible shapes on Randy's inked skin. John reached up with his other hand then, and he was holding Randy's hand palm up with both his own hands, spreading Randy's fingers, tracing against Randy's palm, unable to stop himself from simply touching the Legend Killer.

"I…I thought you'd be here when I…when I woke up." Randy admitted, his voice so quiet John could barely hear him. He looked up, his darker eyes matching Randy's lighter stare, his chest tightening as he saw the incredible disappointment Orton was hiding.

"I'm sorry." John said, his grip on Randy's palm tightening, "I…I was so angry. I couldn't let him get away with this."

"Why do you even care?" Randy asked, his voice guarded, eyes locked on the corner of the bed.

"What do you mean?" John leaned away, tilting his head to the side as he looked down at Randy in confusion.

"Why do you care?" Orton repeated, shifting slightly, ignoring the bolt of pain that shot up his body, "We're not together…so why does it matter to you what happens?"

"Maybe I want to be together." Cena shrugged, his hands going still, fingers resting on Randy's open palm.

Randy stared at him blankly, as if he were speaking another language.

"You know…I like you a lot." John went on, fingers working across Randy's forearm, tracing the tattoos, "Do you like me?"

"Yeah." Randy nodded, but his eyes were still narrowed, suspicious even.

"Then…we should be together." Cena concluded with a wide smile, fingers coming to a halt on Randy's wrist once again.

"You make it sound so simple." Orton said drily.

"I like you and you like me." John shrugged again, his smile widening even more, "You're trying to make this complicated…because that's how you are. You like to be…difficult."

"I'm your coworker…we've always been enemies…you're the biggest hero the WWE's got. I'm probably one of their biggest villains. You've been working for the most hated faction currently in WWE…a faction that, currently, is out to make me as miserable as possible. Not to mention I was just assaulted by the leader of this faction…a sociopath who's main goal in life is to destroy me…and who enjoys using you as a means to do that." Randy rolled his eyes, "Now tell me John…how is that not complicated?"

"You think too hard." John gave a soft chuckle, "Don't think about all that…just think about me. I like you a lot Randy, and I want you to be my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" Orton almost choked on the word, it was so foreign to him.

"Yeah…boyfriend." Cena repeated back, "You know…I'll take you out on expensive dates, buy you nice things when you get mad at me, punch guys who try to flirt with you in the face, sleep with you every night…the works."

"Expensive dates?" Randy cocked an eyebrow, a sly smirk crossing his handsome face.

"Anything you want." John winced suddenly, "And I'm probably going to regret saying that." Images of a demanding, spoiled Randy Orton entered his mind, and John couldn't help but shudder at the thought of Randy having complete control over him. As much as he would enjoy it, John was sure that Randy would use that to his advantage.

"So…tell me, what did you do after you left here?" Randy asked, breaking John's thoughts.

"Hey, I'm not letting you change the subject…yet." Cena sat up indignantly, "Will you be my boyfriend?"

"Is that what you want?" Randy questioned, his voice slow and quiet.

"Yes." John nodded without hesitation, "But what do you want, Randy?"

Silence filled the room as Randy's gaze fell away from John, his tan, lithe body squirming uncomfortably on the bed. For a moment—just one, brief, fleeting moment—John was sure that Randy was going to say no.

"I…I want to be with you." Randy admitted finally, his voice sounding almost as if he himself were surprised with that answer.

"Good." John's smile morphed into a cruel smirk, "Because I told Barrett that you're mine now, and if he ever so much as looked at you the wrong way again, he'd have to answer to me."

"So…you did go and see him." Randy's small smile faltered, his eyes darkening.

"I did much more then see him…" Cena replied knowingly.

"Give him a taste of his own medicine?" Orton asked hopefully.

"Well…" John leaned forward, his hand sliding from Randy's arm across to his chest.

Cena pulled his arm back, fingers curling shut. Snarling in rage, he struck out, his fist connecting with Barrett's face. The leader of the Nexus yelped in pain, stumbling backwards until he tripped over his own feet and collapsed to the asphalt. His brown eyes went wide, and he reached up, fingers gingerly rubbing his nose. The bridge had a strange angle to it, and there was red liquid gushing from his nostrils, pouring down his chin and onto the front of his t-shirt.

"You f-fucking prick!" Wade groaned, his voice thick, "You broke my n-nose!"

"Oh, don't worry Wade." Cena hissed, "I'm not done yet."

I stepped forward, pulling his fist back again. Barrett tried to dodge the punch this time, but he wasn't fast enough. Screaming in agony as John's fist slammed into his jaw, Barrett went reeling backwards, his back skidding across the rough surface of the parking lot, asphalt cutting into his skin.

"You broke his nose?" Randy grinned sadistically, shifting in the bed, the sheets pulling against his bare waist.

"I guess I did." John shrugged humbly, unable to suppress a self-satisfied smile, "It was definitely bent and crooked."

"How'd you get past his guard dogs?" Orton asked, shivering slightly as John's fingers drew across his chest, kneading the muscles.

"I did some thinking before I met up with them, and I realized that very, very few people are crazy enough—or evil enough—to be ok with attacking someone like Barrett did to you." John explained, his hand moving lower, "I guessed that Slater and Otunga probably weren't in on Wade's tricks, and I was right. They had no idea of what he had been doing to you."

"So what happened?" Randy persisted, goosebumps flaring across his skin as John's fingers moved down his side.

"Slater and Otunga bailed." Cena shrugged, his smile growing even wider as his hand came to a rest on Randy's hip, "I told them what was up and they took off."

"Guess they aren't such bad guys after all." Randy muttered thoughtfully, his eyes growing distant.

"I don't know… I think they weren't really happy with the direction the Nexus had been taking anyway." John went on, "They left pretty quickly. Hunter said there was probably bad blood already—"

"Hunter?" Randy's icy eyes went even colder, if that possible, "You…you saw Hunter?"

"I'm sorry." John winced as Randy's expression turned dark, "But…I didn't know if Slater and Otunga were on Barrett's side or not. I didn't want to face the whole group alone, so I got some help."

At some point Barrett had been foolish enough to get up. He wobbled on his two feet, swaying back and forth, his brain still rocked from Cena's earlier assault. The blood flow from his nose had slowed to a steady drip, but his shirt was covered in a single, massive red stain. He's gone pale in the face, a black bruise already beginning to show on the line of his jaw. His brown eyes were going in and out of focus, the pupils randomly dilating and constricting as his eyes darted back and forth between John and Hunter, positive that another attack was coming, but unsure of who was to deliver it.

"You deserve this, Barrett." The blonde growled, his voice low and husky.

Hunter surged forward with a speed normally unknown to a man as large as him. Barrett's slow, disoriented mind had no chance of reacting in time to save himself, and he looked rather pathetic as he threw up his forearms in some pitiful attempt to shield himself. Hunter's first punch struck him in the gut, causing Barrett to double over, hollering in pain, feeling like a train had rammed into his stomach. Barrett had crumbled to his knees, arms wrapped around his middle when the second hit came. Hunter struck out with his foot in a vicious side kick, knocking Wade right in the chest. The Nexus leader was sent sprawling to the ground, screaming in fear and horrendous pain as he landed on his back.

"I have been away from RAW for too long." Hunter shook his head sadly as he stared down at the writhing man, "If he thought he could do this to Randy and get away with it…then I have been away far too long."

"So come back." John urged, turning towards his blonde ally.

"You know Cena, that's not a bad idea." Hunter sneered down at the broken man at their feet, "I think it's time I return and put scum like him back in their place."

"Hunter did all that…for me?" Randy shook his head in disbelief, still scowling deeply, "I don't believe it. He hates me now…"

"Randy…" John sighed deeply, reaching up with his free hand to rub his eyes, "I don't think Hunter's ever hated you. He just can't stand to see you make bad decisions and hurt yourself…which you do have a habit of doing."

"If he's coming back…" Randy groaned, squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance, "Damn it, he's never going to let me out of his sight after all this." Hunter had always been so protective of him…Randy couldn't imagine how much worse he was going to be now after what Barrett had done. Just the thought of his old mentor returning made Orton want to groan. From this point on he wouldn't be able to do anything without Hunter watching his back, making sure he wasn't about to get hurt. It was going to be like Evolution all over again…not that that was a bad thing.

"Yeah, he wanted to come see you tonight." John nodded, his fingers mindlessly circling around Randy's jutting hip bone, "Actually, they both did. But I told them you'd be tired…actually, I just wanted you all to myself. But you're not going to be able to hide from them forever…they're both going to want to talk to you eventually."

"Just who exactly are 'they'?" Randy scowled again, folding his arms across his bare chest, "Who else did you get besides Hunter?"

"Adam." John answered quietly, "Adam Copeland."

"Not so fast!"

Gabriel had tried to scurry away like the little rat he was, but Adam was far too fast for him. Taking a sprinting start, Adam leapt through the air, spearing the South African in the abdomen, causing them both to tumble to the ground. Justin was gasping loudly, his lungs desperately trying to suck in oxygen. Adam had knocked the wind out of him, and it was a horrible feeling, not that much unlike drowning. They rolled back and forth on the asphalt, but Adam quickly landed on top of the much smaller man, pinning him to the ground with his legs. Pulling his fists back, Adam punched him once, twice, three times in the face, his fists colliding with Justin's jaw and cheeks so hard that the younger man quickly had three large, purple bumps swelling across his face.

Adam didn't stop there though, oh no, he was enjoying himself far too much to stop…

"I haven't talked to Adam in months…maybe even years." Randy shook his head, eyes staring off into the distance, "I can't believe…I didn't think he'd do something like that for me."

"They both still care about you a lot, Randy." John replied quietly, "They're real worried about you. Like I said, they wanted to come up here and see you."

"I'm glad they didn't." Orton sighed tiredly, "I don't think I could handle an interrogation right now. And Hunter's going to want to lecture me into next week… So what now?"

"What do you mean?" John arched an eyebrow, unsure of what Randy was asking.

"What do you want to do now?" Randy shrugged, looking up at John expectantly.

"You look tired." Cena answered with a knowing smile, "Maybe we should get some sleep. I've been up for almost twenty-four hours straight now….sleep sounds real good. Especially sleep with you."

Randy didn't answer, but he sat up slightly, propping himself on his elbows, shuffling over to the other side of the bed. John took this as an invitation, and he stood up, pushing the chair out from underneath him. Reaching down, he wrapped his fingers around the hem of his white shirt, quickly lifting it over his head and tossing it to the carpet. Nimble fingers working at the button and zipper of his jeans, John yanked down his pants, kicking them to the side. Standing before Randy in a pair of tight, black boxer briefs, he reach down, gripping the floral-printed comforter of the hotel bed. Pulling it out, he climbed into the bed, immediately curling up against Randy's warm body. The Viper practically purred in pleasure, turning onto his side, facing away from John. Cena needed no more encouragement, and he curled his hard body against Randy's much bronzer frame, reaching out and wrapping his bulging, muscular arm around Randy's waist. Orton gasped in surprise as John suddenly pulled them together, nuzzling against the back of Randy's neck, causing goosebumps to surge across Randy's back. They laid like that in silence, Randy's leaner frame curled into the curve of John's thicker, harder body. It was so quiet in the room, so warm in the bed next to Randy, so comfortable under the blankets that John could soon feel sleep tugging his eyes shut. Randy's breathing had become steady, his chest rising and falling slowly as he too began to feel the events of the day catch up to him. John couldn't help but smile against Randy's neck, his lips moving across the hot skin.

"Johnny?"

John opened his eyes instantly at the sound of Randy's voice.

"I can't stop feeling him." Randy whispered, his voice low and guilty.

John lay silent, stunned, unsure of what to say.

"When I close my eyes…it's like I'm back in the locker room." Randy went on, "I…I don't know what to do to stop thinking about it."

"Randy…" John reached over, gripping Randy's hand with his own, "You're only human. You can't expect to get over this quickly…but it will get better. I promise."

"I'll get better?" Randy asked, his voice wavering and unsure.

"Yes Randy, you will." John pulled Randy tightly against him, Randy's back pressed up against his own chest, "And I'll be here with you every step of the way. And you know what? Hunter and Adam will too."

"Ok…ok." Randy nodded to himself.

Randy fell asleep first, his body going very still, leaving John in an ocean of his own thoughts. He fought to stay awake, if only because he loved holding Randy against him, but in the end exhaustion began to take hold. He fell asleep thinking about the long road ahead, thinking about how difficult it would surely be to help Randy erase the horrible memories Barrett had etched into his brain. It would be a long time before things were good again for Randy, John was sure, and he knew that the next few weeks, months, hell, maybe even years would be hard on the both of them. But Randy wouldn't go through it alone, John would make sure of that.

Cena fell asleep dreaming of icy blue eyes, and thinking that finally—finally—everything was going to be ok.

Yes, this is the end. As much as I have enjoyed writing this story, I am thrilled to finally have it complete.

However...

While I always fully intended on ending the story at this point, I now feel that I cannot. I feel like there are simply too many unresolved issues left over, most importantly the issue of Hunter and Adam re-inserting themselves back into Randy's life. I also feel like I wouldn't be doing the story justice if I didn't explore Randy's recovery after the rape, as well as the development of John and Randy's relationship into something more serious. For these reasons, I am contemplating writing a brief sequel that addresses these issues and resolves them. I can't make any promises, and if I do do a sequel, it won't be for quite some time (I really need a break from this story). But its in my mind, and perhaps depending upon the responses I get, maybe eventually I'll get around to writing it.

That all being said, thank you to all my reviewers. Your kind words are really what keep me writing. A special shout out to SLSheartsRKO, takers dark lover, Addicted to Cenaton, WraithRaider, IsidoraAngst, LadyDragonsblood, and everyone else who seriously reviewed like every chapter. Ya'll are what keep me writing, this story wouldn't exist without you, and for that I thank all my reviewers. You guys are awesome.