Chyler has scary things happen to her a lot. So really, she shouldn't be as frightened as she is laying on the bathroom floor. Her legs were fine five minutes ago. Now though one feels like its on fire but she can't move it.
She drags herself into a sitting position against the tub and pulls a towel over her. "Tatum!" she shouts and it makes her sad how well trained her child has become as she hears feet bound up the stairs. No child should have nearly a pavlovian response to their name. It makes Chyler tear up a little.
She sniffs them away before Tatum appears in the open doorway.
"Uh oh Mama." Tatum's voice shakes just a little.
"Its ok baby, no don't cry I just fell its alright. Didn't even hurt." She lies easily.
"Can you bring me the cordless? I'm going need help getting up, so I'm going to call Uncle Sean and Aunt Lacy okay?"
"Should I call Daddy?"
"No darlin' he's to far away to do anything it'll just worry him."
She brings her the phone. She takes and sees her hands trembling. Just adrenaline she tells herself. Its not anything even close to actual fear.
"I can bring you one of Daddy's shirts."
"That would be great." she uses the moment to dial up her brother in law and best friend.
"What's up beautiful?" he answers on the third ring. "Not much since I've fallen and can't get up."
"That's not funny Chy."
"You're telling me… you aint the one with your butt planted on the title."
"Where?"
"Master bathroom."
"On my way."
"Sean? Bring Lace I need her help too." her voice quavered verging on teary
"Okay Chy. Don't cry…"
"You're right I… I shouldn't I'll scare Tatum."
Its funny how a single look can communicate something profound. She's not sure how he knows, for her it's a gut feeling but they lock eyes for a grand total of five seconds just before he picks her up bridal style. That look says they both know something different is coming for her but they dare not name it.
-/-/-/-
The doctor does though a month later when her limp remains and she's reliant on a cane.
Her husband sits next to her looking like an Alice In Wonderland cast off his big body crammed into a chair a size too small for him. Tension radiates of him in waves.
"It seems to me that the secondary progressive form of the disease has become active."
"And that means?" John asks finally looking away from the random spot on the wall that he'd picked to stare into oblivion. He looked right at the doctor in the same unflinching manner. Chyler reaches over threading her hand with his. Unsure if she was giving or receiving strength.
"Rather than bouts of relapse and remittance. Chyler's condition will steadily worsen over time, until eventually she'll loose her battle with the disease."
"No, secondary progressive doesn't kick in until at least ten years after the onset I've done my research." he says firmly
"it happens earlier but most likely. Her onset was earlier than the noticeable symptoms lead us to believe. I'm sorry."
-/-/-/-
John doesn't scream, cry, or curse anything he gets up and calmly leaves the doctors office. He shuts down and shuts her out. That's his modus operandi when he's frightened and everyone who knows John knows it. Chyler doesn't take it personal, not really. She just wishes it didn't make her feel so very alone.
"John," she looks at him over the hood of the truck. He's coming around to help her get into the truck cab.
"Chyler I can't, not yet okay."
"Okay. We're going to be fine right? You and me?" he lifts her into the vehicle as though she weighs nothing. He pins her with an offended painful look.
"That was stupid question and you know it."
No actually she doesn't know that. He hasn't looked up the divorce rates for people in their situation she has. Its not good. Instead she says, "You're right. Completely. I'm sorry."
-/-/-/-
Chyler Cena isn't afraid. She's tired and that just might be worse. Fear you can use, weariness just breaks you down. The pain makes her desperate and weak with the need for relief.
She made her peace with her lot. She's fine with it that's life. She refuses to take them down with her though, it's breaking them all down she's sees it in their eyes.
Especially John… he's a man who takes life by the horns fights with it until it bends to his will. He can't fight this, her body, her disease. Its changing him she doesn't want that.
Her head is laid back on the cool porcelain of the tub. She smiles in spite of herself. Her eyes are closed and she can still feel him.
"Cramp gone yet babe?" His voice is light but she can feel the frustration rolling off him. He hates the helplessness and she hates having put it there in his gaze and in the set of his shoulders.
She opens her eyes shifting her head she sees him leaned on the counter facing away from her hands braced on either side of the sink. He's wearing the navy blue long sleeved thermal she got him last month, the sleeves pushed up past his elbows and tight jeans hug his legs and butt nicely, his feet are bare. For once he's without a ball cap. She smiles privately thinking he's beautiful. Even though he'd kill her if he knew she used words like that in connotation to his looks.
She loves him and that makes what she's about say that much harder.
"Almost, John we need to talk." She catches his eye in the mirror. God he looks as tired as I feel she thinks.
"About?" his brow furrows and for a moment she sees Holden in the action
She looks down into the bubbles and steaming water because she can't do this when she sees her children in his face.
"You need to move on John." her tone is surprisingly flat a tell-tell sign of how tired she actually is.
"Excuse me?" his tone is disbelieving and he sounds like he's fighting the urge to laugh in her face.
"I said you need to move on," And the lump in her throat rises up unbidden and is choking her. Squelching a sob harshly she says.
"I'm going to die John." she hears him make some agonized sound in his throat and looks up. He's staring at the sink drain like it has the answers.
"Not today you're not…."
"I won't have you and the children stand by and watch. So, you just…"
"Do not say move on again woman!" He yells and she flinches. He looks up into the mirror. And looks her right in the eye.
"You don't get to do that, you don't get to make that choice Chyler. Only God gets to take you from me. You got that."
"John I want you all to be happy."
"Chyler you are in need of a padded cell and straight jacket if you think there is every going to be anyone else for me. You're it… no one else…I'm done for life. When I took those vows I meant them all of them, You can't get rid of me and just so you know," he looked over his shoulder at her. "When you do go? Years from now, I won't be far behind."
"Don't talk like that!" she yells sobs pouring out of her.
"Then don't ever tell me to replace you ever again." he turned around finally facing her as she nods silently.
"What brought this on Pretty baby?" he asks lowly watching a water droplet snake down her chest.
"I'm tired and it hurts John…. It's so painful, it hurts to breathe, move…"
She's sobbing now. Noisy messy sobs that make her feel foolish stealing what little breath the pain doesn't kill. He strides over still fully dressed and climbs into the tub. He pulls her to him. "It hurts to be touched Johnny…" he loosens his grip a little
. "I want my life back, I want to pick up my kids without my back screaming in pain. I want be with you again and not be forced to flinch away or pray I don't scream during…It hurts so bad, everything…I just want it all to stop."
"I know baby, just hang on its going to get better just hang on a little longer." he kisses her temple lightly.
"I'm not sure I can John."
"Then just do the best you can and trust me to pull you through the rest." he says thickly. She leans away and sees the tears tracked down his face.
"I didn't mean to make you cry." he just sniffs and looks at her.
"Why didn't you tell me it hurts?"
"I'm your wife and wanted to be with you…even if its painful. I'm your wife I-"
"Hush Chyler I won't knowingly hurt you. You tell me from now or I won't touch at all."
"Say what?"
"I lasted six years without touching you I can do it again."
She fights the urge to roll her eyes childishly. "Okay, fine I'll tell you from now on but just so you know, kissing doesn't hurt." he laughs at the quick change in mood.
"Okay, then I'll take that as my cue." hands on either side of her neck his thumbs brush across her jaw line. He leans into her. pressing his lips to hers softly.
"Damn, I love you. He murmurs. He deepens the kiss but its slow and meandering. She's kissing him back. As her tongue slides against his he notices she tastes of peppermint.
He laughs a little.
"What?" she breaks the kiss. "Don't say something vulgar and ruin it."
"Someone's been stealin' the candy canes off the tree and blaming her kids."
he presses his lips to the crook of her neck pulse jumping beneath his lips. Still alive still here. He thinks to himself.
"They're good little scapegoats…." she mutters and he laughs and brings his lips back to hers. "Oh crap all four of them are downstairs alone!"
"They'll be fine for ten minutes Chy." He kisses her.
"But they could burn the house down around us. Then what will you tell the firemen?"
"I was to busy sucking face with my sexy wife to care."
"But-"
"Chyler, just shut up already and kiss me." he pulls her back to him and kisses her firmly. He couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed her just to kiss her.
"I like making out with you…I've forgotten how much." Chyler's laugh flutters against his lips and in this moment despite its rocky start he's happy.
-/-/-/-/-
John thinks Chyler's life crisis, her Crisis of faith whatever you want to call it is over but he's wrong. Its far from over.
-/-/-/-
Chyler realizes how morbid this is planning her death, thinking it through picking a random day in February that has no emotional or celebratory connotations for anyone . Timing it so her husband and not her children find her.
She knows its wrong but that doesn't stop her. Other things propel the decision. Pain, anger, feeling useless and undeniably like a burden.
She counts the pills off into her hand with methodical precision.
-/-/-/-
John steps into the house. "Pretty Baby I'm home." there is no return holler of "Hey Johnny." No movement from anywhere in the house. Something is wrong.
Tatum bounds in from the garage entrance. "Hey Tater where's mama?"
"Don't know just got here. My bike tire is flat by the way. Mom usually naps til we get in. maybe she overslept." she takes off her backpack tossing it on the couch
"I'll go check. Start on your home work and I'll fix your bike tonight."
-/-/-/-
The bedroom door is cracked when he reaches it. He peers into see her sleeping and as turns to leave. A tiny white dot marring the hardwood catches his eye. He shoves the door open wider. He sees the floor is be specked in white polka dots. It takes a second for his brain to catch on. Those are pills. Oxy's.
Chyler takes them for pain. His eyes scan up her arm. Held loosely in her hand is the empty bottle. Oh Jesus.
He rushes through the door and climbs into the bed with her. He cradles her to him.
"Chyler, no baby, no." he taps firmly against her cheek. She's not moving at all. He can't breathe and she barely is. Tears are blurring his vision. "Tatum!" he screams "Call 911." he only half hears her climbing the stairs.
"Chyler just keep breathing. Please…please…"
"Why daddy?" he turns to find his ten year old standing the door way. His tears blurring her around the edges. "Just do it. Fucking mind me please." he begs her face crumbles as runs for the phone. In that moment John has never been more angry with Chyler his whole life. "Keep the others down stairs!"
"You don't get to bail Chy that's not how this works. You stay do you hear me you stay with me! Please, baby…please stay please just breathe." He begs.
-/-/-/-
John's not sure how he gets to the hospital or how his family gets there but he's there sitting in a hospital chair when Randy arrives. The show is in Boston tonight.
"Man," Randy says.
"She tried to off herself. That's how bad its gotten and I didn't even…" his father sits down next to him. Placing his hand on his back rubbing in circles like he does with his kids when they need comfort.
"I don't know how to help her…I need to fix it…" the sob filling his chest breaks loose. "And I don't know how Dad."
"I know son, We're going to figure it out."
"I think I understand it but I don't. I'm selfish I need her. I'm not built like her I can't be by myself. I need her in my life, I need her to tell me when I'm working too much or being an asshole. I need my friend…I just need her. I don't know how to stand by and watch her die. Whether its quick or slow. I'm not sure I can do it either way."
"You don't get a choice John, it sure as fuck ain't fair but that's the way it is." said Randy. Moving to sit at John's feet.
"You need to accept it to help her accept it. Chy's not perfect as much as I'm sure you think she is, that was an act of desperation. She's overwhelmed and you know she does dumb shit when she gets desperate." He shrugs off John's shocked look.
"What the fuck did you think Leland Chapman was? A brain fart? I pay attention I know her better than you think."
John laughed in spite of himself "Thanks, I think. That long haired fuck is just the bane of our existence isn't he? How's Cady?"
"She's half me, Half Becca how do you think? Spoiled rotten, smart as hell with a mean streak a mile wide. In short, she's five."
-/-/-/-
The doctor strides toward them frazzled looking but still fresh faced enough to make John think he's just out of med school.
He looks up from the file he's perusing. "I'm Doctor Ellis I treated your wife." John shakes his hand.
"We've pumped her stomach and she'll be held on a seventy two hour psych watch, that's standard operating procedure for all suicide attempts. She's sleeping now. You got lucky Mr. Cena even five, maybe ten minutes more and you'd be planning a funeral. Something to keep in mind, one in four of all MS patients attempt suicide to escape the pain, its almost never about anything else."
"Can I see her?"
"She's not a threat to anyone but herself, so yes." John's stomach turns but he leaves behind Randy and his Dad and follows the doctor.
-/-/-/-
She's lying as deathly still as before, underneath crisp white sheets her complexion only a little better than the sheet. Her chest rises and falls steadily. Despite that he still feels sick and frightened.
He steps forward to brush away the remnants of charcoal clinging to her lips it sticks stubbornly and he inadvertently wakes her.
They simply stare at each other for a frozen moment. Chyler's eyes filling with tears he asks the only thing that's on his mind.
"Why?" he clears his throat before his voice can break.
Chyler takes a shaky breath and for just a second anger flashes into her clear green eyes. "You know why. I tried to tell you and you just couldn't hear me."
"Is the pain honestly that bad? That death is better option?" he snaps back anger heating his words.
"You don't understand John!" her voice shakes but he's too angry too care.
"You're right I really don't. he's so tired and confused. "So, explain it please."
"I know you're mad at me but could you just touch me? If I…if I'm going to be honest and tell you everything, I need the contact." the words are barely out of her mouth when he picks her up carries across the room to the hard plastic couch he sits and nestles her in his lap.
He presses his lips to the top of her head inhaling her shampoo. "No matter how pissed off I am, I still love you got that?"
"I don't know where to start?"
"When you started thinking about it will work?"
"Do you know over seventy percent of marriages where a partner has MS ends in divorce?"
"I didn't but-"
"Don't say that's not us, John."
"It won't be and you know it."
"I'm sure all those people thought the same thing, I don't want to be a burden on you and the new diagnosis pretty much a guarantees it. I don't want to be trapped in my own body John! I'm terrified I'll lose who I am! My sanity! What do we do John when I wake up one morning and I can't speak? Or what about when I can't hold your hand? Or be with you anymore? Are you still going to love me when I can't wipe my own ass John?" her voice is frantic and angry.
"I already have trouble keeping up with the kids, I can't chase them around anymore and Holden's stopped hugging me, he's afraid he'll hurt me. I hug my kids, I hold them, they pretend to hate it on principal but…I'm going to loose everything bit by bit and I'm so fucking scared….I hurt all the time, everyday all day but more than that I'm scared that you'll hate me for all the responsibility I bring you, I'm scared that my kids are going to feel cheated because I'm not a normal mom or that they won't know how much I love them when I can't show it outwardly anymore. I'm terrified of dying. My worst fear is being trapped inside myself where no one can reach me. I don't want to die alone but I don't want you to watch either. So yeah I'm in a hell of a lot of pain but its so much more than physical now."
"I wont do this again I promise, but I need your help John, I'm so freaking scared I can't breathe, please help me.
"Look at me Chyler." he tips her face up.
"I will never hate you for anything. I'm going to take care of you not out of obligation but because its what we do. How many times have you taken care of me when I'm injured or just do something stupid because someone dared me? Huh?"
"That's different."
"No baby, its not. I want to take care of you because I love you. If that means feeding you when you can't hold anything anymore including my hand or wiping you or bathing or whatever else you need then so be it. I'm going hug the kids twice as hard for you. I'm going to kiss them at the most embarrassing moments possible because you would. I'm going to chase them, and chaffuer them to all their stuff and they would know how much you love them even if I didn't do it. Because, you are that good of a mother. They'll just know because you taught them how to love. You're not alone in this, we're going to slow this fucking disease down somehow I promise. And you won't be trapped in your own head pretty baby, because even if you can't tell me something I'm always going to hear what you're saying. Always. The " I love yous." went unspoken for a lot of years but we always knew right? Its no different."
Chyler is quiet for a bit and John feels the moment the gravity of what she'd done sank in. She tenses. "Oh God, John I- I- I'm so so so sorry what's wrong with me! I love you, it was nothing you did I promise I- oh god the kids!"
She turns his arms and hugs him tightly. She presses her lips into his neck, she's trembling in his arms her breath coming in fast hitches. He knows she's about to panic so he says calmly. "You're fine baby, its okay…we're okay, and so are the kids."
"Who?"
He swallows the lump in his throat. "I found you. Tatum called 911 the others have no clue I made them think you had a bad relapse."
"I probably just screwed her up royally."
"No, I'm sure she'll be fine. We'll talk to her about it everyone makes mistakes."
"Does everyone hate me?"
He laughs, "I think I'm the only one who was mad. Everyone else seemed to be clued in on the fact you'd reached your breaking point. Even Randy, reminded me that you quote do stupid shit when you're desperate. Sean may need a hug though. You scared us."
"I really am so sorry."
"I believe you baby."
-/-/-/-
"I'm taking time off Vince." John says.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, effective as soon as humanly possible I'm taking the time off owed me."
"Whatever for?"
"I'm sure you've heard Chyler's prognosis has worsened. I'm going to try my damnedest to at least make it better if I can't cure the fucking thing. They have more advanced treatments in Europe. So we're going to try those. Also, the second she's wheelchair bound my in ring work stops, I'll commentate if you'll have me but she's my everything and this as much as I love it isn't everything its just a thing."
-/-/-/-
Chyler stands on bridge over looking the Seine River she leans on the intricate iron trailing. She looks pensively out over the water. Despite the tense melancholy that rolls off her John still finds her beautiful. He leans the opposite way so he can look at her.
She looks good, in skinny jeans and a dove grey cowl necked sweater. She's thinner than a few months earlier side effects of her meds kill her once voracious appetite. He can see the tiredness around her eyes, to much jet-setting lately.
He reaches forward and tucks a dark strand of hair behind her ear.
"Those meds Ruby gave you are going to work baby quit analyzing." She smiles at the mention of her foreign exchange room mate turned doctor.
"No it's not that…I need you too do something for me, two things actually."
"Name it."
"When I die spread my ashes here, in the Seine. I fit here, other than with you I never fit anywhere. I like it here. I was happiest here, with you the year Tatum was born."
He unclenches his jaw. "Okay I'll do it. You don't have to convince me. The other thing?"
"When the girls turn eighteen promise me you'll bring them here. The first time they see the city should be with a man who truly loves them."
"Consider it done."
He leans forward placing a soft kiss on her mouth. "I think I saw a chocolate croissant with your name on it in the bakery window what do you say?"
She picks up her cane. "I say I'm not sharing get your own."
"Oh that's how it is huh?"
He takes her free hand and holds it in his. They journey down the street and Chyler sort of hobbles along but it doesn't bother him and for now in this moment he isn't angry with fate or resigned to it. He's determined to enjoy life.
-/-/-/-
When he comes back into the present Tatum is staring off into the middle distance squinting at the Eiffel Tower.
"What you thinking bout Tatum? And don't say nothing you've had the same thinking face since were five."
"Everything and nothing at all Daddy. I miss my mother."
"I know." There's nothing else he can say.
-/-/-/-
AN: I only own my characters. Becca owns herself. I do not know or own anything related too john cena, randy Orton, or leland chapman. This is for fun not profit. This chapter was a bitch to write so if you liked it please leave a review.