Dear Lord, I am so sorry you guys! My laptop has been broken for a gazillion days and I had some time to type on my home computer today! So, I'm gonna try and make this chapter count more than any other, and I think you guys will like it! I've been working on this one in my notebook for quite a while so… Enjoy!
Chapter 22: Wanted, Dead or Alive
He couldn't believe what he had before him. It was… He was dreaming, wasn't he? The Apex Superstar refused to believe this had really happened. This was not happening to his best friend! This was all just a nightmare, that he'd soon wake up from.
Alanna would be happy and healthy, Mackenzi would be a sweet little girl, Dan wouldn't even be here, and John would not have gotten into that silly car crash! He'd be safe and sound, on the bus, with his daughter, cuddling up to Torrie, chilling with his friends - not in this dreadful hospital bed.
"Am… are we dreaming?" The Viper choked out, glancing back at Dan before looking back at his best friend, lying lifelessly in the bed. He was depressed and angry at John for doing this to himself, for going out on a sickening rampage, and getting into this dreaful care wreck.
Dan bit his lip before cautiously taking a step into the hospital room. His baby brother… lying in this bed, the only sign of life, the cardiac monitor beeping slowly, and the slow rise of the chest. Otherwise, you'd think that John Cena… was dead.
Swallowing hard, Randy rubbed the slight stubble on his chin before taking two more steps closer to the bed. He was being cautious, afraid if he stepped too hard, or too loud… that'd he'd lose John for sure, and the young man would never come back.
Breathing slow, Dan walked up beside his little brother's best friend. "Rand… I'm sure he's going fi-ine." His voice cracked at the end of his sentence, assuring Randy that his best friend was not going to be as fine as he secretly hoped.
John Cena. He was a good man. Young, strong, selfless, happy, helpful, giving, sometimes annoying, but that's nowhere close to the point. The point is, that John Cena is a good man, and he should have had this happen to him. He didn't deserve it, nobody does, but it still happens. You've heard the saying, right? Bad things happen to good people, well, for once in his life, Randy Orton was starting to believe that.
The face of John, all cut up and scratched, torn and ripped, sliced and trashed. It was horrid. Both Randy and Dan presumed it was from the shattering glass of the window when the truck slammed into their buddy.
Left leg in a cast, right arm in one, John was broken. He had a white wrap around his ribcage, telling anybody that he had broken or cracked a few of them. Tubes were hooked up here, there, and everywhere, and Randy couldn't help but frown. He was in fear. A fear for his best friend's life, for his brother's life. All the time Orton had said he hated John, that he wished they never met; all the time they'd fought over nothing, fought over anything - he took it all back.
For some reason, Randy blamed himself for John's state. He was beaten and broken, torn and ripped, cut and sliced, all because of Randal Keith Orton. He could never take this back, never tell John how sorry he was that this was happening.
While Randy buried his face in his hands, feeling like the most terrible person in the world, Dan stared at his brother in shock and depression. His baby brother could possibly lose his life, and all he could think about was I never told him how much I love him. Dan was always the… mean big brother. He never cared for his family as much as he should have, and he couldn't recall more than two times he had told John or his other brothers that he loved them.
"I'm a terrible brother," he murmured, still staring at John with broken and sad eyes. He didn't blame himself, no - no, he knew it wasn't his fault, but he was blaming himself for not being there for John when he needed help. Dan felt terrible, and worst of all, he wasn't doing anything about it.
Randy looked at Dan, before turning his blue eyes back to John. "I'm a terrible best friend," he retorted, feeling like the stupidest man in the world. He could have prevented this from happening. But then he realized… This wasn't his fault; this was Torrie's!
She was the one who was fighting with John, forcing him to take his eyes off his baby girl for two seconds, while she ran off and out of the airport. But no, Randy went back to seeing this as his fault. He and Jeff saw Adam take Mackenzi out… but they didn't say anything. So it was Jeff's fault, for being so darn stupid!
No, no - it's still my fault. The Apex Predator turned away, but his eyes soon drifted the monitor sitting beside John's bed. Beep… beep … beep … beeeeeeeep!
Both men widened their eyes. No, John - he couldn't leave yet. Not before they got to say goodbye. He was dying right before their eyes, and it seemed as if neither of them could move an inch. So Randy's first instinct was to scream, to yell for help, so he did. "HELP!" He shouted, "HELP! Someone help us!"
His feet finally lifted from the ground, but they felt a thousand pounds heavier than normal. It took Randy quite a while to reach the door, where he poked his head out and screamed, "HELP! We need help down here!"
While inside the room, Dr. Dan Cena hustled about, getting the right equipment out so the doctor's would have a better chance of saving his little brother. He would do it himself, but it was his brother, he didn't have the nerve, nor the confidence to do that. He just… couldn't perform anything on his brother, any of his brothers. He felt like everyone, even more-so then usual, was depending and counting on him.
As a bunch of doctor's rushed into the room, Randy was on the verge of sitting in a corner and bawling his eyes out. His best friend may very well be gone. He stood against the wall, slowly sliding down it before burying his face in his hands as he listened the doctors bustle about.
"CLEAR!" One shouted, then a loud, buzzing, electrical shock noise echoed throughout the room, making Orton sick to his stomach, which he clutched in fear. "1, 2, 3 - CLEAR!" They shouted again, making the Viper squeeze his eyes shut tightly.
It didn't seem like they were bringing John back any time soon, seeing as they yelled, "CLEAR!" Out twice more before a disappointing silence filled the room. That sent Randy into tears. They hadn't been able to save him; John was dead, and gone forever.
As a white sheet was placed over John's dead and lifeless body, doctors and nurses filed out of the room. Feeling terribly bad for his brother's best friend, Dan kneeled beside Randy. Tears were streaming down his own face as an emptiness filled the entire room. "We need to go now," he told the dark blue eyed man.
Taking in shaky breaths, Randy looked up from his hands. "Can… c-can I have a few minutes alone with him?" He asked quietly. "To, you know, say… g-goodbye." At the word goodbye, Orton let a few more tears slip out of his eyes as he looked into Dan's.
Nodding, Dan stood up and left the room, carefully closing the door behind him. As soon as the door was shut, Dan slid down it and started crying into his sleeves. His baby brother was dead… and there was no getting him back.
Inside the room, Randy slowly got off the floor. John Cena was dead. His best friend, his buddy, his pal, his amigo - his brother was dead and gone. He could not be recovered, and he would never live to see another day.
All. My. Fault.
As Randy reached the bed, he closed his eyes softly. He then sat on the stool on the left of the bed and carefully and slowly lifted the sheet off of John's dead body. He was hoping this was all a joke, that when he lowered the sheet, John would be grinning that silly grin of his and yell, "Gotcha'!" or "I can't believe you actually believed me!" But no, his face was a light greyish, and his skin was ice cold.
Just to be sure that his best friend was really dead, Randy placed his ear to John's chest. No heartbeat, no sign of life. He really was dead.
Clearing his throat, Randy reluctantly took hold of John's freezing hand. He squeezed it. "Well, I never thought we'd be here at thirty years old," he muttered lowly. "Maybe when we were in our fifties, sixties, hell - I was hoping we'd live till we were one thousand, but I guess that isn't going to happen, huh?" He laughed emotionlessly.
Biting down on his quivering lower lip, Randy closed his eyes, letting a few tears fall. "I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry, John. I - I should have been a better best friend. I should have been there for you when you needed me, I should of remembered that Mackenzi went with Adam," he struggled to maintain his breathing and his tears, but both were impossible.
"John… you have to know. You are the one guy I have ever let in, the one guy I want by my side when things get tough, the one guy I'd hate to see so distraught and miserable. After all these years… I've never appreciated you as much as I should have, and I am so sorry for that," he whispered.
Wiping tears off his face with his free hand, Randy rubbed his cheeks desperately. "Hey, remember… remember two years ago, when we were at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, and… we were playing tag backstage?" He laughed lightly. "They got the camera guys to come film us, and showed the whole WWE Universe on the show."
Before Randy could get anything else out, he broke down in tears. "I love you so much, Johnny, and I'm sorry I caused this to happen to you," he sobbed. "I'll never forget you, man."
After a few moments of silence, Orton stood up and walked to the door. He risked one last glance at Cena, just making sure he was still dead before he walked out the door. The ten-time, WWE Champion would never be forgotten, that was for sure.
The endless beeeeep was starting to kill Randy. He could still hear it as he walked slowly down the hall, and soon enough, it was turned into a beeeeeep, beeeep, beep, beep! Great! Now my mind it playing tricks on me,Randy thought.
Beep, beep, beep, beep. It was starting to annoy Randy, so he had to go back one more time, just to make sure that the beep, beep, beep, was still the same beeeeep, it had been a few minutes before. A man couldn't just magically come back to life, could he?
Running back to John's room, Orton poked his back into the room. What he saw made him slap himself twice, pinch himself, kick the wall, and punch the wall with his not-broken hand.
"Ah," he squeaked out while falling onto the floor, holding his foot while trying to comfort his hand at the same time. He slowly got up and limped over to John's beside. He saw the chest rising up softly and smiled to himself. John Cena is alive, even though, he just died…
Happily, Randy elbowed John in the face, making the older man snap out of his sleep. He yawned and sleepily looked up at his best friend. "Mm, what the hell happened?" He questioned tiredly.
Grinning, Randy engulfed his best friend in a huge hug. "Nothing, buddy, nothing at all!" He exclaimed while squeezing his friend tightly. "I love you, John."
Narrowing his eyes, John awkwardly patted Randy's back. "I love you too, buddy?"
Okay, so I still feel extremely bad for leaving you guys hanging the way I did, but it's here now, right? And who actually thought John was going to die? The first time I wrote it, I was thinking about it, but I couldn't do it…
So, I hope you all enjoyed it, pleeeease review! It would mean the world to me! Even if I haven't update in forever, but I will try to a lot this week! I love you guys, and thanks for not giving up on me!