Bittersweet Homecoming
Title: Bittersweet Homecoming
Rating: PG-13
Summary: He looked all of ten, an angel still wearing his halo though he'd already lost his wings.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I own nothing and no harm is meant. Seriously people, this is FICTION.
Beta: None, all mistakes are mine.
A/N: Well this one sure appeared a lot quicker than the others, lol. I didn't care for this chapter but it was definitely one that needed to be written and probably should have been written a while ago. So that's enough of me talking, have at it!
John couldn't stop the full-fledged smile that broke the moment his father's house appeared through the line of trees. He welcomed the excited, giddy feeling that washed over him as his took in all the cars currently parked in the yard. There had to be at least thirty cars destroying his father's precious grass but he couldn't imagine his old man putting up much of an argument considering the occasion.
Evan had mentioned that everyone was going to be there to greet him and John couldn't wait to see them all. Watching RAW and Smackdown wasn't the same as traveling with the guys every week, nowhere near it. He was also glad to be home in the care of his family though Nurse Ethel would be dropping by for the first few weeks or so to make sure his recovery was going according to plan and that he was in fact attending his appointments with his doctor and therapist.
Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, John swallowed the lump in his throat wishing the butterflies would also disappear as Ron pulled the car up as far as he could which was pretty damn close considering. It almost looked as if a path had been created just for him through the metal sea.
Honking the horn to announce their arrival, Ron killed the engine before glancing to his right. John sat in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the front porch as his hands fidgeted nervously with his ball cap. As if he felt Ron's eyes on him, John turned to look at his friend, nodding briefly before giving him, Matt and Evan a small smile.
He open his door, emptying his lungs with a heavy exhale as he clasped his hands together below his right thigh. Counting to five, he took a deep breath before lifting the leg with a combination of thigh muscle and cupped hands, shifting in the seat so he could place his foot down on the concrete. Once his leg was outside the car, he let go of the breath he was holding, ignoring the dull ache the awkward angle was creating in his spine. That simple movement had him breathing harshly but the exertion couldn't stop him from grinning like a fool especially when he heard his mother's voice calling out to him.
Red faced, John took a deep breath and made to move his left leg but a small hand placed on his shoulder held him back.
"Rest a moment, John." Evan suggested, his chocolate eyes showing a little bit of concern. "Don't lift your leg just yet but bring it closer to the door to relieve some of the pressure."
"Yeah, okay." John nodded, doing as Evan said.
He closed his eyes and leaned to his right letting his head rest against the door frame relishing the warmth of the sun. It took a few moments but once he felt he had his breathing under control and his heart rate had return to normal, he readied his body once more.
Just like with his right, John clasped his hands below his left thigh and took in another deep breath; contracting his muscles, instantly regretting it.
"Ah…fuck" The sharp pain that shot up the back of his thigh and spine was the worst it's been in a while.
"John, John! Are you okay?...Whats wrong?"
John threw his head back, clenching his eyes shut as he ignored the inquiries about his health in favor of biting through his lip. Anything to distract him from the burning.
"Quit biting your lip, John and breathe through the pain, dammit!"
Something in his father's voice struck a chord because for a moment the pain was dulled as John started laughing. He was pretty sure everyone was staring at him as if he'd grown a second head but he couldn't be bothered to care.
"There ya go, if that works for you." His father responded, pretty proud of himself.
As his laughter died away, he felt two large hands lift and move his left thigh to join the other one outside the vehicle. He wanted to protest, wanted to remind everyone he was no longer an invalid but held his tongue.
Opening his eyes, the first person John looked for was Randy but couldn't distinguish him amongst the many faces. The tears in his mother's eyes eventually held his attention, though. He gave her a big smile, dimples on full display while he motioned her over. Hugging him tightly, she kissed his cheek, whispering Welcome home, Johnny, before stepping back over to his father. Though they'd been divorced for the past decade, his parents had split on amicable terms. He'd always admired how they never let their own issues with each other get in the way of the family. He loved how when he or one of his brothers needed both, they gladly showed up together.
His father gave him a quick nod in greeting, his own smile present.
"Hurry the hell up Johnny boy, we haven't got all day."
John whipped his head around to face the owner of the voice but before he could say anything, Matt answered for him.
"Shut up, Miz"
The banter that followed made him glad he was home. He wasn't sure the hospital staff would appreciate the language they all tended to use when the whole crew got together.
"…fuck you Matt!"
"Miz, I swe-"
"Hey guys, how about we save it until after the alcohol joins the party, yeah?" Adam's interruption put a halt the faux fight building as all eyes landed back on John who was attempting to stand on his own.
Holding onto the car door along with the frame, John pushed down and prayed his legs wouldn't buckle under the weight. Straightening his back, he let his arms drop down to his side elated when it looked as if they were going to hold. He snubbed the fire building in his left thigh in favor of smirking at his family and friends.
"Good job, old man. Now take a step."
"Miz, if you don't shut the hell up, I sw-"
Shaking his head, John tuned out the guys, thankful and a little bit surprised when a wheelchair appeared off to his right, his brother Sean as its driver. Locking eyes with his baby brother, he thanked him because though he wanted to walk, he was sure he wouldn't get too far before both legs gave out below him. Sitting down, John relaxed, chuckling as he noticed Miz, Alex, Evan and Matt were still going at it.
He closed his eyes as Sean began to push him, listening to the rest of the guys along with the divas and a few other childhood friends welcome him home as he rode past. All he wanted to do at the moment was sleep for a couple months but something was bugging him.
"Where are Randy and Dan?"
If he noticed how the bickering suddenly stopped or the quiet gasp Maryse emitted, he didn't comment granted he was half-asleep.
Everyone shared a look, none of them really wanting to be the one to lie to John but knew they couldn't tell him the truth either. Cody lied.
"They went to go pick up some extra food and drinks."
"Hmm.."
When John said nothing more on the subject, everyone released a sigh of relief, falling in line behind Sean as he neared the house. That disaster would be held off for at least another couple of hours it seemed.
John Sr. watched as Sean pushed John up the newly built ramp before turning back to their mother.
"Where in the hell could they be?"
Cena's Viper
It was the yelling that woke John. Muffled voices that sounded as if they were right outside his door continued to rise though he couldn't make out any of the words.
He groaned as he opened his eyes, instantly shutting them to block out the blinding sunlight coming through his window. Raising a hand to rub at his left temple, John tried to will away the sweet throb currently taking up residence.
"You just let him walk away, why didn't y-"
"What the fuck was I supposed to do, dad? Do you really think I could have manhandled the son of a bitch back into the car, forget the fact that we were in traf-"
John turned over his upper half, confused by the little snippet of conversation he was able to hear. His stomach choose that moment to remind him that he'd skipped breakfast and probably missed lunch too plus the extra pressure on his bladder informed him that mother nature needed attending to.
Grimacing, he sat himself up against the headboard not really in the mood to coax or drag his legs over the side of his bed where he noticed his walker was waiting on him. Though he wouldn't admit it out loud, right about now, John wished he still had the catheter.
Mentally preparing himself, John took a few deep breaths before repeating his actions from a few hours ago, minus the sharp bolt of pain up his spine. He allowed his arms to hold all of his weight as he leaned on the walker catching his breath before he attempted to shuffle his way to the hallway bathroom.
"Randy, you bastard, answer your damn phone."
John faltered at Dan's words, breathe hitching at the implication. Randy wasn't here.
"Da-" His voice cracked from disuse prompting him to swallow a few times to wet his throat before he tried calling out again.
"Dan"
Seconds later his door was opened and Dan peaked around the wood, closing his phone as he took in John's appearance. He still looked tired even though apparently he'd had been sleeping for the last three hours. When he noticed John's arms slightly trembling he grew concerned.
"How long have you been up and standing like that?"
"Couple of minutes. Why won't," John paused to wet his chapped lips before fixing his brother with a puzzled glare. "Why won't Randy answer his phone?"
It happened so quickly that John questioned whether or not Dan's eyes really changed. The coldness that seeped into those baby blues at the mention of Randy was so unlike his brother, John eventually chalked it up to his headache but that didn't stop him from observing the hesitation.
"Why…Why don't you go freshen up a little bit and I'll go t-"
"Dan, quit stalling and answer my question. Is Randy hurt or in trouble?"
"…tell Mom and everyone that you're up." Dan finished as if he hadn't heard his baby brother. He shut the door just as John began to curse him.
"Hurt my ass," Dan muttered as he walked down the hallway and started descending the stairs. "But oh hell yes, he is in trouble."
Entering the living room, Dan bade the first two guys he saw. "Hey Kofi, Morrison, John is going to need help down the stairs in just a few minutes." At their nod he continued on his way into the kitchen absently wondering as to why and how they got the big guy up the stairs in the first place.
Cena's Viper
"Dan! Where the fuck is Dan?"
John's voice floated into the kitchen where said man blanched at the anger in the younger man's tone. He braced himself for the worse, reminding himself that he'd done nothing wrong, Randy had gotten out of the car on his own free will and everything that happened from here on out was his own fault.
Yeah, right.
He hadn't expected John to wheel into the kitchen but it eased some of his guilt. At least John wouldn't be on the verge of collapsing from holding himself up during their fight.
"What were you and dad yelling about earlier and why won't Randy answer his phone, Daniel."
Swallowing slowly, Dan chose his words carefully. He wasn't guilty; all he had to do was tell the truth.
"Well….Randy won't answer his phone because…..he's blowing off steam. I can't really tell you wh-"
"Bullshit" John snapped, stopping his chair directly in front of Dan preventing any attempts at escaping that he might be thinking of. His baby blues were just as cold as Dan's had been earlier for that brief second.
Dan glanced around the kitchen, realizing that while no one was outright paying them any attention, everyone was waiting for him to answer as if he held the true meaning of life. Their mom was stirring something on the stove, his dad was pretending to read the paper and he could just make out the shadow of several bodies standing in the door way. At least he had witnesses.
"Honestly, John" Dan tried to speak in as calm a tone as he could muster. "I can't tell you what I don't know or understand my damn self. I had to take him to get some news he wasn't particularly fond of and on the way back I kind of pissed him off with some questions and he got out of the car on the intersta-"
"You fucking left him out there knowing he doesn't know a damn thing about Massa-"
"I didn't leave him any fucking where, John." Dan was getting tired of being accused as the horrible babysitter who lost the kid. "Randy got out of the damn car by his own choice and chose to play on the fucking interstate by his damn self!"
"But you did nothing to stop him"
At John's outburst, Dan had had it. He pushed the wheelchair back hard enough to create some room between them but not hard enough to send the younger man flying across the room even if he wanted to.
"Take some pain medication and eat something, John. Then come talk to me because I won't be blamed for his bitch fit."
Before John could respond, the patio door was slammed shut as Daniel left.
Cena's Viper
Headlights lit up the darkened living room, waking those who'd fallen asleep during the movie and ruining the good mood of those who happened to be enjoying the film.
The TV was turned off as white light flooded the room eliciting groans from all the occupants. John unlocked the wheels on his chair, sitting up straight as he wiped the dried up sleep from his eyes. He'd passed out just a little after the movie started, his protesting mind finally overpowered by his exhausted body.
The confrontation surrounding Dan and Randy had been pushed to the back burner and John's phone was taken away after dialing his tattooed lover's number for the fifth time per Momma Cena's orders. A plate of barbecue, a glass of ice tea and bottle of pills replaced the electronic device as he was enveloped by family and friends intent on making him forget for just a little while.
Now with said confrontation just outside that door, he really wished Evan hadn't scolded him into feeling guilty when his brother Matt had placed that glass of jack down in front of him. The little guy had claimed that mixing pain killers and alcohol was a dangerous cocktail, and then removed the glass from his possession as he passed it on the Ted. John, however, was willing to bet his bottom dollar that a sober Randy would not walk through that door.
Bodies began to crawl over other bodies in order to find their designated sleeping area or gather up their belongings so they could get back to the hotel. It was agreed upon earlier that everyone would leave out the kitchen door when and if Randy came back so as not to disturb the impending conversation.
John said his goodbye's and gave out hugs, flipping Hunter the bird as he called out Night, Princess.
Laughing as a few of the divas complained about not being able to watch Randy get chewed out, he began to wheel himself into the foyer, stopping just to the left of the stairs. There would be no way Randy could overlook him as he would have to walk right passed him in order to climb the stairs.
His mother kissed his cheek before locking the kitchen door.
"Night, Johnny."
"Night, Momma"
He could tell she wanted to say something more but she only smiled before walking down the hall to retire herself.
Her door shut just as the front door opened.
"Hey," Randy greeted him as he closed the door behind him. "Shouldn't you be in bed?"
Though he knows he shouldn't, John relaxes, exhaling slowly as he let Randy's voice soothe his nerves. His words were clear and distinct, tone surprisingly calm for a man keeping a mighty big secret.
"Yeah, but" John paused, wetting his lips as he picked over his own words. "We need to talk about your….choice of playgrounds."
John grinned as Randy began to chuckle, running his hands over his shorn head. "Playgrounds, huh? So it's safe to say Dan told you then?"
"No, not everything."
Nodding, Randy dropped his gaze to the tile floor. Though he'd been the one to tell Dan that John needed to be told as soon as possible, he wasn't sure if he could. Thinking about seeing John in a wheelchair or using the walker was one thing but actually seeing the older man like that was something entirely different. He couldn't help but feel guilty, like he'd been the one holding the gun.
It sounded ridiculous, but with all the time they spent together he'd always kind of felt as if it was his responsibility to protect John from harm's way. Kind of like a silent promise to himself. It truly didn't help matters that he felt like he failed not only as a friend but as a lover also.
Shaking those thoughts from his mind, Randy glanced back up at the other man, locking eyes with his favorite baby blues. They were guarded and that realization alone was enough to make him feel short of breath as if someone had punched him in the gut.
"How…How about we take this into the living room. The foyer isn't exactly the place to tell you I might be a wanted man."
Randy held up his hand stopping John from commenting as his eyes widened almost comically, his mouth imitating a fish.
"Living room" Randy repeated, narrowing his gaze at the flash of defiance that crossed John's face.
Following closely behind the chair, Randy removed his jacket, laying it across the back of the couch before settling down at one end. He briefly thought about pouring himself a glass of something dark but dismissed it, watching, secretly pleased, as John wheeled just to the right of him and locked his wheels. Randy considered offering help but bit his tongue, not wanting to upset his lover any more than necessary.
Grunting as he hefted himself up on onto the couch, John winced at the strain in his arms. It took a few moments but he was finally able to situate his body so his head was lying in Randy's lap, his legs stretching the length of the couch. Ignoring the younger man's grin, John smirked, quite proud of himself he was. He relaxed, closing his eyes as one tattooed arm found its way down the front of his shirt, fingers softly caressing his abs while the other hand gently carded through his hair.
"Comfy?"
"Hmm…"
He figured John must have been a hell of a lot tired then he was letting on since neither of them like to show much of their vulnerable side even with each other. His hair was just a little bit damp, his face unusually pale under the lamp light though that was kind of becoming the norm. He looked all of ten, an angel still wearing his halo though he'd already lost his wings.
"So…Liam Julien Carter is dead." Randy paused, registering the way John's body tensed before continuing. "He died Sunday night from complications of a few broken ribs, a punctured lung and some other shit."
There was a long pause where only the ticking of the hallway clock could be heard. Randy faintly registered the sound of someone moving around upstairs but didn't think too much into it. Even if someone wasn't eavesdropping, they'd all hear about his predicament soon enough.
He was just about to ask if John had heard him though he wouldn't have been surprised if the older man had already nodded off, when John finally spoke.
"Okay," He still hadn't opened his eyes and his voice was devoid of any emotion. "So what does that have to do with you, Randy?"
Randy swallowed heavily before answering. He never did like being backed into a corner.
"After he shot you, I um….I sort of lost it. I didn't think I'd done that much damage considering I only kicked him bu-"
"With your steel-toed boots?" John interrupted him, finally opening his eyes but they were once again guarded.
Randy was slow to respond trying to gauge John's reaction beforehand. "Yes"
"And now his parents want to press charges?"
"No, the um..your wonderful state of Massachusetts wants to press charges since he was a minor and they're looking at Second Degree Murder."
"What the fuck….they can't do that can they?" Those baby blues were now blazing with anger as he glared up at Randy but not really at him. "Second fucking Degree, isn't that a bit much?"
"Yes, apparently they can but Detective Broadman says any judge in his or her right mind will throw the case out. Nothings set in stone just yet, though. According to Broadman, this is just a rumor going around the station but as soon as something concrete comes his way, he'll let me know."
"So there's not a warrant out for your arrest or any nasty surprises like that waiting for you. I mean, can you even leave the state or should you stay put?"
"No, no warrants," Randy chuckled. "And I hadn't really planned on leaving the state for a little while but I can ask Broadman tomorrow if you like." He stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles as he continued his ministrations. He figured in about another ten minutes, John would be down for the count as he was beginning to slur his words.
A mighty large yawn cut off whatever John was about to say causing Randy to yawn himself, interrupting his smile. It did nothing, however, to stop him from thinking how cute, though he'd never admit that thought. John would kill him for sure.
"What about Alanna?" John tried again as his eye lids drooped dangerously low, his baby blues beginning to glaze over. "I thought this was your weekend to have her, you sh-"
"Sam is flying out her with her tomorrow." Randy cut him off and pulled his arm out of John's shirt about ready to move them to John's bedroom. "I talked to them on the phone yesterday; Sam says hi by the way." He couldn't help but smirk before continuing. "Alanna can't wait to see her naked baby."
"Ha Ha" John deadpanned, shoving his elbow into Randy's abs. "So what now, Randy? I mean even if the state doesn't press charges, word will get around in the news and you'll be labeled a murder."
The light-hearted feeling disappeared from the room as a serious undertone took its place.
"Where does that place you in respect to your career, your family, hell, even me?"
"John, I don't….I can't…" Randy was at a loss for words cause he really hadn't thought that far ahead. John was always the one with plans thought out well in advance while Randy acted on impulse. This time though, his consequence was going to be more than just a slap on the hand or a sixty day suspension. But as he stared back down into a pair of concerned and foggy baby blues, Randy realized that as long as John didn't turn his back on him since he knew Sam would never keep him away from his daughter; so as long as his lover didn't leave him high and dry when the younger man needed him most, the world could once again go fuck itself.
He finally shrugged, lightly tracing the scar on his lover's neck. "I'll just have to wait until that moment comes, I guess. My reaction will depend on the rest of the world's reaction. They could shun me or they could say whatever, Mchanon included."
"And my dad and brothers?" John asked, eyes closed with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
Randy snorted as he reached for John's chair, pulling it closer to him so he could help the other man into it. "No comment, but how about we move this wonderful conversation upstairs to a comfortable bed, yeah?"
Smirking as he yawned, John folded his arms over his chest. "Nope. I'm comfy enough right here."
"You can't be serious….John….John Felix Anthony!"
John gave no reply, feigning sleep with unnecessarily loud snores.
Randy began muttering under his breath as he moved the chair once again so he could pull his legs up on the couch. One of his tattooed arm reached over to turn off the lamp before he gently lifted the John's head, ignoring the self-righteous grin gracing the older man's face as he positioned himself so that he was lying on the outside spooning up against his lover's back. Randy then placed one arm under his own head and wrapped the other around John's waist holding him securely to his chest.
"Right bastard"
"Yeah, but you love me." John mumbled sleepily, entwining his fingers with Randy's.
Brushing his lips over the hair in front of him in a barely there kiss, Randy closed his grey eyes praying sleep would claim him so he could forget about the hell this past week has been if only just for a little while.
A/N2: Thoughts, questions, complaints?