Disclaimer: With my non-working status, the only thing I can afford is Brooke-So yes that's right, all I own is the figment of my own imagination.

Summary: Raw- is Jericho but what happens when WWE champ John Cena steps onto Raw grounds? What will he do when he discovers the past that his girlfriend, Brooke and his worst enemy, John share?

Notes:Okay, this update is about 7 months later because I had a chapter already written, but when I went over it, everything felt too rushed, and I just left it there.So finally, I rewrote it and here's presenting the better, new and improved version. And if you're reading my other story, Sweetest Sin, I'll try to update it again this week. Oh, and the italics are for flashbacks. R & R-thankz

We Belong Together

Chapter 3

Suddenly Everything Has Changed

Brooke was outraged at Chris' actions. After hearing rumors about Christian being named the number one contender for the WWE title at Vengeance, something inside him had snapped. Everything from the stab in the back to his unsuspecting tag team partner to the Walls of Jericho he applied after decimating John, he had crossed the line, with his intent shining through in the way he eyed the title.

She had paced back and forth in the locker room for so long that she was sure she would rub a hole into the floor any upcoming second. Her mind had been sent into a tumultuous motion. Anger boiled inside, only to have confusion added to the mix. She needed to talk to Chris. Why would he do this? Just for a damn title shot? And what about John? She needed to check if John was alright after the hell Chris had put him through. How was he going to deal with this mess that he had stepped into?

Due to the door being slightly ajar, she could hear mumbles of conversations that were going on somewhere in the hallway. It was relieving to know that she wasn't needed out there on Raw. She was a mess and faking her emotions for some interview for the camera that rough night didn't seem too pleasing. She pulled of the rubber-band and raked her fingers through the messy up-do she had just taken down. The motion her hands made sent her into a brief nostalgic moment when things actually seemed to be going right.

"I'm so excited. I just know this is going to be amazing match. I can feel it. There's something in the night," Brooke excitedly babbled. She had been walking up and down the hallway for the past half hour, and neither her feet nor her mouth seemed to be tiring from their constant activity. Energy was oozing from her pores.

"And apparently there was something in your water," John joked, taking a sip from the bottle he had in his hand. Seated on an equipment crate, he was just waiting for the moment she would start bouncing off the walls.

"Hey," she mockingly pouted, playfully slapping his arm. You better watch it, or else I gunna kick your ass right now."

"Keep dreaming, Burton. We both know it ain't gunna happen," he commented, with a smirk playing at his lips.

"Keep taunting me and you can be damn sure that I'll make you regret it," she threatened, wagging her finger at him, as she seating herself beside John on the crate.

"Well, unless you put on about 200 pounds of muscle, I'm not too worried," he teased.

"I'd sleep with one eye open, if I were you," she sinisterly replied.

He scoffed, "Yeah. Okay."

"I'm dead serious," she replied. Unfortunately she cracked and revealed the smile she could no longer conceal.

John laughed, "You'd make a great mobster, ya know that?"

"Shut up," she retorted, joining in him in his laughter.

She rested her head on his shoulder, and looped her arm through his. He lay his head atop hers. They had spent countless evening sitting beside each other, relishing in the simplicity and beauty of the connection they shared in revealing everything from their jokes to secrets to dreams.

"You wanna know sumthin?" he asked, stroking her hair. Every time he did that it sent her shifting closer to him.

"What?" she softly asked, slightly raising her head to look up at him.

"I wish we could stay just like this," he whispered, laying a small kiss on her forehead.

"Me too." Her head jerked off his shoulder. She hopped off the crate. "Alright, you better go and kick some ass before you become some fragile sissy boy."

He laughed and rose up off the crate, "I swear sometimes I think you're bipolar."

"I'm doing this for your own good. Now get going," she ordered, motioning toward the hallway.

He stood there, eyeing her as she folded her arms across her chest.

"Can't I even get a kiss for good luck?" He pouted.

She flung her arms down in defeat and moved towards him. Her arms became wrapped around his neck, as he leaned in. She inched in dangerously close and before their lips were a millimeter from touching, she whispered, "You'll get your kiss." He was left lingering. She pulled herself back and seductively licked her lips to fuel the fire, "But only if you win the match."

Footsteps approaching the room Brooke occupied become louder and snapped Brooke out of her thoughts. Her mind was made up. She knew what she had to do. She yanked the door open and dashed off. Engrossed in her contemplation, she failed to see that the footsteps that she heard belonged to Chris.

He stood at the corner wondering if he had actually seen what he thought he had. The blur looked awfully familiar. He shook his head and shoved the door of his locker room open.

The journey had been easy, but as she gaped at the door, her confidence had shattered. After being at the receiving end of his displeased reaction last week, Brooke knew it wasn't likely that she'd be receiving a warm reception, but something inside her refused to leave without checking on him. Taking a deep breath, she decided against knocking and barged into the trainer's office. The door swung back into place with a small creak, causing his attention to be shifted to his visitor.

The icy glare he sent from across the room made her freeze in place. Her feet were locked in place, forbidding her from running out. Her mouth had gone dry, leaving her incapable of uttering any words.

From the bench he sat on, he continued to gaze at her with contempt. "I thought I made it clear, that I didn't want anything to do with you."

Her eyes shut. She reverberated back to what she had been thinking about before. The pleasantries of the memories reminded her of why she had come to see him. Despite the bad blood between them, she could never bear to see him in pain.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, and cleared her throat. "A-are you okay?" she mustered in a barely audible tone.

"Why can't you just stay out of my goddamn life, Brooke?"

"I had no idea Chris was gunna do this to you," she implored, her voice faltering as a foretelling lump generated in her throat.

"Right. And cuz imma dumbass I'm gunna fall for your bullshit," he heatedly said, rising from the bench.

His tone became richer in venom, as the pools that welled up in the corner of her eyes deepened.

"Brooke, why don't you get it? I am sick and tired of your games," he sinisterly replied.

Each blink sent the pools spilling down her cheeks. She attempted avoiding looking at him, but as he approached her, she was forced to see a fire in his eyes that sent a chill down her spine.

"I don't wanna deal with you or anymore of your crap. Just get out."

His acidic words stung like hell.

"I can't believe I actually came here because I was worried about you," she said.

"Worried?" he scoffed. "About me?" He pointed toward himself in his mockery. "You know, you didn't seem to have any remorse for me the day you left me? You were nothing but an emotionless bitch, if I recall when you shamelessly broke my heart. What the fuck happened to your sympathy for me then, Brooke?"

She bit her lip, knowing he was telling the truth. With the tears flowing and the pain of the wounds his words had re-opened, she was incapable of even thinking to defend her actions. She jerked the door open and rushed off.

The vein in his forehead ready to burst, and his complexion literally reddened with anger, he pounded his fist against the wall. He was dually satisfied and enraged with his actions. He had driven away the one person, who had shattered his heart, but nevertheless who he still longed to hold in his arms.

(XOXOX)

"Why did you do it Chris?"

The voice from the shadows made Chris nearly jump out of his skin. He fixated his hand on his throbbing heart. "Jeez, Brooke, you nearly gave me a heart attack." After pulling the strap of the bag up over his shoulder, he let the heavy mass drop on the pavement. He turned and pulled himself up, seating himself beside Brooke on the trunk of his rental.

"Were you carrying out your ploy to kill me or something? I gotta give you some credit, though. Setting it in a faulty-lit parking lot, covered to every damn inch by cars. No one would see anything."

"Chris," she said in a firm tone.

She thought her blood-shot eyes were hidden thanks to the defective lights in the confined area, but Chris was still able to read the pain that she was unsuccessful in masking.

He let out a deep sigh, "Looks like you won't be happy 'til I give you some sort of explanation."

She made no significant motions besides turning her head to face him.

"I know it wasn't the most honest thing to do, but I was helpless--"

"Helpless,Chris? How can you say that? You attacked him after the match. You rammed him into the barricade, steel steps, and put him in the Walls of Jericho. How were you helpless?" She questioned with disgust.

"When I heard that Christian had been chosen, I was pissed as hell. Do you how long it's been since I've held the WWE title? It's been years. You know every time I step into the ring, I think that I've accomplished everything I could've dreamed of. But there's still something missing. I just wanna prove that I can accomplish it once again. I wanna prove that I have what it takes to be champion. I wanna show the world that I am the best."

"But why did you have to stoop to underhanded tactics?"

"I'm not proud of that, but that was the best way of getting the attention of Bischoff. You know what he's like. Do you honestly believe that bastard would've put me in the triple threat, if I played nice and did things by the book? He probably would've put me in some match to get my ass kicked by some sasquatch."

The night John had arrived on Raw, he had made it clear to Bischoff that he wanted nothing to do with backstage politics.

Brooke sulked, acknowledging how Chris had been seduced by Bischoff and his crooked way of getting things done. "Yeah, but..."

"Tonight was just a way of making people take notice. It was my way of letting Christian and Cena know that I deserve that title just as much as either of them and I'm not backing off without a strong fight."

"Chris, I don't approve of any of this," she reluctantly admitted.

"Trust me, I know you don't, but I've got their attention and the match so I won't need to kiss Bischoff's ass or do any more sneak attacks because I am going to win that title. "

"Promise?" she softly asked.

"Absolutely."

"Don't let this title hunt consume you. Don't let this rivalry with John or Christian or proving a point to Bischoff take over your life to the point where you can no longer even recognize yourself. Okay? "

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her in a soothing voice. He lightly kissed her forehead, feeling a slight ounce of guilt for not revealing the entire truth behind his actions.