John still had a smile on his face when he made it home. The morning had been just as good as the day before. Waking up next to Randy was definitely something he could get used to. He'd had fun with Randy. He'd completely forgotten about his problems and simply had fun.

Randy was fun to be around when he relaxed. Although, John got why that was hardly ever an option. Even when he couldn't relax, John simply liked being around him. He liked Randy and he knew it was going to cause problems, specifically between he and Mike but he just couldn't worry about it right then.

"Hey, buddy," he called to Mike when he found his friend sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Hey."

John completely missed the strange look on Mike's face as he walked towards his room.

Xxxxxxxx

"You're distracted. What's up?" Trish asked the question as soon as she got the last customer out and closed the doors. She leaned on the bar as Randy cleaned up behind it.

"I'm not distracted," he protested automatically but he didn't meet her gaze as he said it.

"Uh huh." Trish eyed him skeptically. After a minute he looked up at her.

"Are you going to actually help me close up?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe. After you tell me what's bothering you." She paused, a frown forming. "I haven't seen Justin and his buddies in here in a while. Are they-"

"I haven't seen Justin for a while," he interrupted. "He's been leaving me alone."

"Huh. Wonders never cease, I guess." She picked up a rag and began wiping down the counter. "So, if it's not Justin or any of the other customers, why are you brooding?"

"I'm not brooding," he protested, shooting her a scowl. "I don't brood."

"Sure you don't." She stopped cleaning, leaned towards him. "Come on, Randy. What's going on with you?" There was genuine concern coloring her voice and she could see it when he gave in.

"I slept with John Cena," he blurted out before abruptly turning his back on her.

Trish's jaw literally dropped and she stared at him for several seconds, unable to form words. The shock only lasted a minute, though, before a warm sense of relief spread through her. She'd seen them flirting and she'd known Randy had liked the guy…

"That's great!" She finally got out.

"Please don't say that." Randy turned to face her again and leaned against the back of the bar.

"But…it is, isn't it? I mean, if you guys got together, it obviously means he doesn't believe the bullshit Justin spread about you-"

"Justin didn't spread it," he cut her off again.

"What?"

Randy walked closer, braced his hands on the bar. "The details of what happened back then, the rumor that it was me…Justin didn't spread that stuff."

"How do you know that?" Trish asked tentatively.

"He told me," Randy answered with a shrug of his shoulders.

"And you believe him?" Trish's voice turned incredulous. She had been friends with Justin in high school too and she never would have believed he could do something like that back then but she had learned since just what Justin Gabriel was capable of.

"Yeah, I did." There was no doubt in Randy's voice but it was also flat. It was like he was stating facts.

"Right." Trish really tried to wrap her head around that. "Did something happen between you and Justin?" Because it kind of fit. Randy's newfound conviction, the fact that Justin hadn't been around.

"It doesn't matter."

Trish studied him. She could probably press him about it and get an answer. She was a big believer in that. Sometimes, it was the only way she could get Randy to talk to her. And she figured it was better than him bottling all the shit up and ending up self destructing. She'd seen that before and she didn't want to go down that road again.

She could press him about it, or she could get back on their original topic.

"You're right. What matters is this thing with John Cena and why you wouldn't think it was a good thing."

"Come on, Trish." He pushed off the bar. "Do you really need to ask that question?" He started towards the back to grab the broom and dustpan.

Trish followed. "Obviously. Look, I know it's been a while but if he believes you, if he likes you…"

"Then what? It'll make up for the fact that he's still living with Mike?" Randy asked skeptically. "You have any idea how pissed Mike is going to be when he finds out?"

"Thought you didn't care about what Mike thought of you anymore?"

Randy glared at her. "I don't but John will. They've been friends since they were kids, Trish. They knew each other before Mike moved here."

"But maybe they can work it out," Trish suggested.

"Yeah, sure they could." Sarcasm rang heavily in his voice and he stopped right in front of her. "You know that's not going to happen. You know this isn't going to end well."

"I don't, actually. And you shouldn't automatically assume."

"I-" Randy cut himself off this time and he blinked. The broom dropped from his hand at the very sudden shot of pain that ran through his head. It felt like someone had kicked him in the head and he grimaced, brought a hand up to press it against his forehead.

"Randy?" Trish asked, worry entering her tone.

He started to shake his head but thought better of it when the pain came again, fast and strong. It began to ratchet up further, building to migraine status faster than it ever had before, made him feel like someone was trying to split his skull with a dull knife.

He had to squeeze his eyes shut as the room spun and pain built to agony. Blinding, deafening agony that made his knees buckle and his stomach roll. Trish had caught him before his head hit the ground, supported his upper half but he managed to move away from her and, on his hands and knees, he retched until involuntary tears dripped onto the floor as well.

The images were disjointed and fuzzy, even more so than usual. He couldn't think, let alone attempt to make sense of them. He couldn't think past the agony pounding through his skull.

It was only when the pain began to ease up some that he realized Trish had pulled him so that he was resting against her, and away from the mess he'd made on the floor. His hands were shaking when the pounding lessoned enough so that he could open his eyes.

"You alright?" Trish asked.

"Fine." Randy pulled away from her. The headache hadn't completely gone away. It wouldn't for a few hours, but at least it was just a headache and not a migraine.

"Maybe you shouldn't be doing that," she suggested when he struggled to his feet. He had to brace himself on one of the barstools when vertigo hit after standing so abruptly.

"I have to go," he said, dazed.

"What? No way. You need to lie down. Come on, you can go back to Shawn's office."

Randy shook his head, closed his eyes. "No, I have to leave."

"You can deal with it later," Trish insisted, coming to stand beside him.

"Trish," he choked out, reaching for her when the pain spiked again, even faster this time, going from zero to sixty in the second it had taken to get her name past his lips. The world went away again.

Xxxxxxxx

Trish struggled to keep Randy up off the floor. He had a foot on her and over a hundred pounds. She did, however, at least manage to keep him from bouncing his head off any hard objects, including the floor, when he collapsed for the second time.

She chewed her lip until it bled, holding him as close as she could. She hated this and her worry was beginning to build into panic. She'd never seen him have two right in a row. Finally, after what seemed like hours to her, his muscles relaxed and he went limp against her.

She did panic when she saw the blood running from his nose.