A/n from Jessica: Howdy all. My apologies for the seriously late posting but what can i say? end of the year man. but now that i have testing and prom and all that jazz out of the way, ill try and update more frequently :)

Enjoy!

John buried his head further underneath his blankets, trying to escape the incessant ringing of his cell phone that seemed to sound every five seconds. He knew he was pushing it—after all he'd taken nearly two weeks off from work, but there was no way he was in any shape to compete in a ring, not when he felt like this. All he could think about was the scene playing itself out over and over in his mind's eye. Randy with…

John clenched his eyes tight, forcing himself to man up and establish the thought that had been circling around in his head since that night. Randy had cheated. He had cheated.

Had Randy ever been happy with him at all? He'd like to think so, but appearances could be deceiving and apparently Randy was a master of deceit. No one cheated on their significant other unless they were unhappy. Plain and simple. All that bullshit adulterous husbands spouted about making a mistake and regretting it completely was just that—bullshit in its purest form. You only cheated if you were unhappy, bored, or never held any real feelings toward the other person at all, and John's mind was racing at the implication he fell under one of those categories.

He doted on Randy, loved him, cared for him, put up with the stupid shit that spouted from his mouth on a steady basis and for what? To be betrayed in one of the most hurtful ways of all? God, he'd rather Randy have broken up with him and spared him the constant introspective state he never seemed to be able to shake.

Fed up with hearing the crappy ringtone, John managed to work one of his arms out of the cocoon he'd burrowed himself in, throwing the damn thing across the room, mentally sighing as it seemed to shut off on impact. He'd deal with Vince and his cronies some other time; it's not like he was in a position to be let go any time soon—they could figure out a way to have a show without their poster boy.

Convinced there was no way he could sleep now, and thoroughly having had enough broodiness for at least the next few hours, John slowly made his way to the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands over his face in an attempt to remove the sleep from his stagnant eyelids. He tilted his head to the left, wincing as his joints popped. Mentally dragging his feet but knowing he should at least eat something before he climbed back into bed and disappeared from the world, John gradually padded his way across his bedroom, grasping ahead of him blindly as he somehow managed to find his way to the kitchen in the dark.

Sure it was stupid to try and maneuver through his home in the wee hours of the morning, but John simply couldn't stand the sight of his house in the unrelenting light of a lamp. He just couldn't. Everything was so…quiet. So empty. There was no way he was ready to face that, not when he could barely stand to get out of his bed. And there was especially no way he could face the sight of the personal belongings and photos of him casually strewn all over the place. John had nearly curled up in the fetal position right there at the door when he'd come in and nearly tripped over a pair of Randy's shoes laying by the door.

No way. He wasn't ready. And if that meant risking the well-being of some precious family heirlooms he may or may not knock over on his trip to the kitchen, then so be it.

John growled to himself when he realized that half the supplies needed to make a decent meal were still at their house in St. Louis. Now that was something else he was no where near ready to face. Going home (his real home, not the mansion ripped straight out of Better Homes and Gardens here in Tampa) and possibly running into his lover—ex-lover he amended—was definitely the last thing he'd be able to do. Facing Randy again ran the risk of John falling to his knees and pleading with him to carry them straight to the bedroom and put everything behind them, a feat John stubbornly wasn't ready to consider yet.

Never back down, never quit right? John would be dammed if he was the one that went crawling back to Randy especially after what he'd been put through.

So stupid. So, so stupid.

Cody buried his head in his hands, confident he was making the most stupid decision of his life. Where he got the sudden urge to suddenly drop everything and hop on a plane, he'd never know.

But, while the risk of someone getting their ass kicked before morning was great, (almost guaranteed, really) he had to have answers. If he were ever going to be able to move on with Randy—finally move on and continue forming a life together, he knew he had to answer the little self-doubting questions that nagged at his subconscious on a daily basis. Maybe then they could just be together. No questions asked, no suspicions of the other, no need for constant late-night ponderings of their future — just them together, happy.

Cody jumped as the cabdriver announced their arrival, staring blankly ahead at the large, lavish home but making no move to get out.

He shoved a wad of cash at the cabbie, gradually stepping onto the pavement hoping that maybe delaying that knock on the door would delay the eventual (completely awkward) conversation that would take place.

Just five minutes—ten max—and I'll be gone. Just quick and easy, in and out.

Cody glanced down at his cell phone, (most likely to stall even more) noting the time. Three AM. There was no way he'd even be up right now…maybe he could come back in the morning.

Cody made a 180, already rationalizing why he couldn't just go and knock on the door. No, no. He paused in his trek back down the enormous hill his house was perched on, silently willing himself to man up and face this shit head on. He was a wrestler for Christ sakes; he could handle a little confrontation couldn't he?

He had to get out of his head. That was most obviously the cause of the shit storm he was in anyway—he spent too much time thinking and rationalizing when he knew he should just lay everything aside and act. He could do this. Fear was just a creation of the mind; he had nothing to be afraid of.

Except being broken in half in a fit of rage, that might be something to fear.

Cody shook away the thought, making an about-face where he stood and walking back up towards the house. He reached the porch, stopping at the door. Taking a deep breath for strength, Cody raised his hand, timidly knocking on the door.

"…God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change—"

Cody's hushed prayer was cut off, his voice dying in his throat as he heard the lock being clicked on the other side of the door. He nervously waited, but the door was never opened for him.

Taking a tentative grip on the doorknob, Cody slowly pushed the door open, peeking his head inside. He could hear someone making a lot of noise somewhere in the back of the house, pots and pans being slammed together violently. Cody shut the door behind him, taking a few small steps into the beautifully designed house. Should he make his presence known? Cough under his breath or something? He had a feeling he couldn't just waltz right up to the man and start interrogating him or anything. If he wanted to commit suicide maybe.

He followed the sounds of the ruckus being made in the kitchen, nearly falling over himself in the darkness of the house. He turned a corner, his eyes thanking him for the sudden light he was met with; only the solitary light fixture on the ceiling lit up the room, revealing the man in front of him, his back facing him, half-naked, his quick and flustered movements showing his anxiousness.

"You gonna' just stand there?"

Cody froze in his spot, even turning behind him to double check he was the one being spoken to.

"If you're not going to say anything you might as well just leave, cause' I got nothing to say to you, Randy."

Cody's face twisted in confusion. Randy? He wasn't…ohh no. He thought he was…?

"I-I'm not…"

Cody's voice trailed off, subconsciously taking a step back as John froze, stilling his tasks of destroying his kitchen.

His gaze dropped to the floor as John spun around, not believing he could trust his ears. But he was really there; that lying, conniving, mother—

"What are you doing here?" John asked. His eyes roamed up and down Cody's form, shaking his head at the obvious fear and awkwardness that was oozing out of the poor boy.

"I-I wanted to…well, first off, apologize…"

John turned away from the counter, a slightly hysterical sounding chuckle escaping his lips. "Apologize?"

Cody wet his lips and swallowed, trying to will away the sudden dryness in his throat. "Uhh…yes."

John gave another chuckle, slowly advancing towards Cody. "You want to apologize? To me?"

Cody unconsciously took a step back, feeling like the first girl offed in a slasher flick as he back reached the edge of the wall. "Y-yes."

How appropriate that he did though; he was about to be killed.

"Apologize for what Cody?" John took another step closer to Cody, "For ruining my relationship? Ruining my personal life which ruined my professional life?"

"Uhh…yes?"

John closed his eyes and breathed silently through his nose, trying to keep his inner rage at bay. He counted to ten in his head, deciding if when he opened his eyes he was still angry, he'd allow himself the pleasure of beating the shit out of Cody. He opened his eyes, meeting with the sight of Cody practically trembling in fear. So the counting hadn't worked. Oh well.

John threw all consciousness out the window as he lunged forward, wrapping his hand tightly around Cody's throat as he brought the other down in a punch against the wall. "Are you fucking kidding me?" Cody brought his hands to his throat, trying in vain to remove John's from around his neck, (or at the very least keep him from strangling him).

"J-John!"

John tightened his grip on Cody's throat perceptibly, eyes narrowing down into slits. "How dare you. How fucking dare you come to my house and ask me to forgive you?" Cody gasped as it became even harder to breathe, "You fucking whore, you ruined my life!"

Cody closed his eyes waiting for the expected blow to the face. After a few seconds of cowering in fear, Cody felt John's hands loosen from around his throat, removing altogether as John crossed across the room. Cody opened his eyes, wholly confused at the fact his face still remained intact. His eyes followed John as he stepped into the next room, his sad blue eyes trained to the floor.

He slowly followed behind, not knowing his place but wanting to express his thanks that John had let him go. After everything that had happened between all of them, Cody was sure he was most deserving of an ass beating than anyone.

He stepped into what he assumed was the living room, John resting in the center, head in his hands. "J-John?"

John sighed from deep inside him, wiping his face with his hands as Cody quietly approached. "Cody, just leave. You can go, okay? Just get outta' here and I won't…" John looked up at him, thoroughly defeated.

Cody stopped in front of John, wondering how talking with someone who used to be one of his closest friends could ever be so uncomfortable. "I…can we talk?"

John sighed again, standing and moving across the room. "We did Cody. You apologized. You cleared your conscious. Now get outta' here."

"No, John. I need to ask you something. It's about…"

"Randy."

John turned to face him, gesturing Cody to sit. He must've had a wealth of patience if he was even considering doing this. That or he was too nice for his own good. "Talk."

Cody sat down stiffly on the couch, uncomfortable with what he was about to ask but knowing he wouldn't be able to move on—with or without Randy—unless he did.

"Will he…" Cody paused and looked down, trying to ignore the spent look across John's face. "Will…will he…ever get over you?"

John frowned, a flash of surprise crossing his face as he absorbed Cody's skittish appearance. "Will he…? I can't answer that, Cody."

Cody jumped up, seemingly to escape as quickly as possible now that he'd gotten his answer or lack of one. "It's okay. I can't believe I had the nerve to come here anyway…I'm sorry, John. Really. I'll just leave—"

"Sit down."

Cody eyed John wearily, slowly obeying the older man lest he anger him again.

John closed his eyes, trying to gather his thoughts. He had so much he had wanted to say to this kid, had thought about the different insults and cut-downs he would scream at him should he ever get the chance. But seeing Cody here like this, practically shaking at his feet in terror…he was overwhelmed with a sense of tiredness; he just wanted to say everything he needed to say and move on. Even if that meant he did so without Randy.

"I don't know Cody."

Cody held back the urge to comfort his once friend, knowing that wouldn't be well for anyone.

"Why are you coming to me though? What can I tell you that you don't already know? He's yours now Cody; just take him and move on."

"I can't. Not…not after knowing he still loves you."

John's head snapped up, hope threatening to surface before he smothered it back down. "Cody don't…don't tell me that. I don't wanna' hear it. Just…it's fine, okay? You win. You get the man and the happily ever after. Just take it and move on."

"John I can't. I have to know—"

"Why?"

Cody hesitated. "Because I can't be with him if he's still with you. Even if it is only in his heart."

"Don't." John's voice grew thick with emotion. "Don't say that. He doesn't love me anymore; I'm not sure he ever did. He's with you now Cody, don't waste this chance that you've been given."

"But he does," Cody said, his own voice thick and his eyes shiny with unshed tears. "You haven't seen the way he's been without you. He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat. Even with me there he can't go on without you, and that kills me. You have no idea."

John let out a humorless chuckle; "I have no idea? You're kidding me, Cody. I have every idea."

"Maybe so, but I just…I have to know, John. You know him better than anyone, even me. I have to know if this is even worth it…I have to know the truth."

John gave a bitter smile, the words of a song he knew well coming to him, "to the heart and mind ignorance is kind. There's no comfort in the truth, pain is all you'll find…"

Cody's face showed his confusion; "What?"

John shook his head, mentally drained from this conversation. "Just get out of here Cody, I can't tell you anything else. Just…do me a favor?"

Cody stood, waiting for John to continue.

"Just…enjoy him. For the both of us."

Cody silently nodded, slowly walking to the door, knowing his question hadn't been answered but feeling a sense of closure despite it.

"One more thing."

Cody turned to face John, the sick smile on his face not settling well with his stomach. "He'll leave you one day too, Cody." Cody scowled. "Whether it's for me or someone else, he will. And when he does…when he leaves you for dead, you'll end up here just like me. Feeling bitter and despising life. Wondering why you were the last to know."

A/n from Jessica: Can i just say that i have never wanted so bad to quote Mean Girls before in my life? That bit where John calls him a whore? it took everything i had not to write 'youre a scum sucking road whore, you ruined my life!' lol. god bless the people who made that movie.
Also, the song John (and i) referenced was Careless Whispers by Seether which is apart of my writing playlist and a verry good song. so go listen to that!
Oh and who here reads the sookie stackhouse books? i just got the latest one yesterday and i wanna gush over it with someone! damn, i love these books.

Anyway, hope you liked. I only have three more days of school, so i'll try and update again this week.

Be sure and review :)