Agitated voices greeted him the second he opened the door and from the sounds of it they belonged to Big Show and…

"… leave me the fuck alone, Orton!"

He rounded the corner and saw the two men, almost nose to nose. Well, Paul was towering over Randy and the man was really pissed off… and it took a lot to make him angry. Randy had his arms crossed over his chest and showed the same arrogant expression he wore so often lately. Some of their co-workers watched them curious, from a safe distance of course, but no one made a move to separate them.

John sighed. So he would do it, separate them, calm them down, although he knew better. Like always. He shouldn't interfere, especially not when Randy Orton was involved. They've had times when they had been… well, friends would have been said too much, but they had talked casually, even joked around a bit and went for a beer after work.

Then, suddenly, out of the blue Randy became an asshole. He started to bitch and snap at everyone without a reason, to piss off everyone on his way and the few times John tried to find out what was wrong, Randy had pushed him away. At first with words and the last time John got out of his attempt of being a 'friend' with a shiner.

But Paul was out of Randy's league and even though John had enough of Randy's asshole attitudes, he wouldn't want to see him folded to a package by Paul. So he did how he always did – being the good boy – he brought up a good-natured expression to his face and stepped between those two and pushed them apart with gentle pressure.

"Hey guys, no need to yell at each other," he tried to calm them down and while Paul reacted and stepped back a bit, Randy slapped John's hand away.

"Whoa, hold your horses, Orton!"

Appeasing John held his hands up.

"Don't touch me, Cena!" Randy snapped and shoved John against Paul, before he left the room.

For a few seconds everyone in the room watched Randy's angry retreat, accompanied with a few nervous coughs and murmuring.

"Uhm… what exactly was that?" John wondered aloud, still staring in the direction the younger man had left.

"I don't know," Paul huffed behind him. "I accidently bumped into him and suddenly he flipped out. Completely."

A big hand patted John's shoulder.

"Good thing you came along. I guess a few more seconds and I would have pushed his arrogant face through the wall."

John looked up to the big man and frowned.

"Yeah, I guessed something like that," he replied slowly. "Man, I don't know what's wrong with him lately…"

The big man shrugged his shoulders and John noticed gladly that Paul was back at being the gentle giant everyone knew.

"The kid was never easy to get along with," Paul stated. "But if he keeps up those manners Vince will kick him out sooner or later. The whole roster avoids him by now."

"Yeah, obviously…" John whispered and wondered once again what was going on with Randy.

xxx

Hours later John entered a small bar, his eyes scanning the room for his friends. He found them in a corner, already having a drink and chatting, and he made his way over to them. Then his eyes found someone else, sitting at the bar. Alone. It was Randy and for once there wasn't his all day asshole mask plastered to his face but a lonely and somehow sad expression. John frowned but continued his way to his co-workers where he sat down, waving for the waitress.

Minutes went by and he tried his best to jump into the ongoing conversation… without success. His eyes and mind drifted back to the lonely man at the bar. The younger man's brows were furrowed, not in anger like hours before… it was worry. What John saw there simply didn't fit the way Randy acted lately but it did fit very well to what John assumed, namely that something had happened to the younger man, whatever it was.

He felt a soft bump against his shoulder and turned his head to his neighbor.

"Where are you, bro?" Kofi smiled at him and arched an eyebrow.

"What?" John asked absentmindedly, still lost in his thoughts.

"I asked where you are. I see you sitting beside me, but you are somewhere else up here." Kofi pointed at his head.

"Oh. I just…" John's eyes flicked back to Randy. "Doesn't matter."

"Yeah, sure. Man, stop being the nice guy. He's not gonna thank you for it, you know that."

"I know, I know," John groaned, rubbing his hands through his face. "But I can't just let him sit like that over there."

With that he got up from his chair.

"John, don't. He's gonna give you the next shiner."

He patted Kofi's arm and shrugged his shoulders.

"Color up your life," he grinned and made his way over to Randy.

The younger man seemed so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice John at first. Only when he sat down on the bar stool beside him, Randy's head snapped in his direction and in a blink sadness, loneliness and worry vanished from his face. His brows furrowed even more. The anger was back.

"Fuck off, Cena."

"Mmh, no."

"What the hell is it don't you understand? Leave me the fuck alone!"

John pursed his lips. "No."

Randy growled something that was swallowed by the loud voices surrounding them and slipped from his bar stool to obviously leave, but John grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Randy, don't. Please," he said just loud enough for the younger man to hear. "Please. Let's talk, okay?"

For a second it looked like Randy really considered to stay and finally talk to him, but then he jerked his arm out of Johns grip and stretched up to his full height, balling his hands to fists.

"I said don't touch me, Cena! What is your fucking problem?! Why do you have to stick your nose into everything?" he spit, voice dripping with venom. "You want to get along with everyone but I don't want that, okay? You run around smiling, always nice and helpful. It's disgusting how you try to be everyone's darling. But that's the problem, isn't it? You need that, you need all the attention 'cause if you don't have that it's nothing left except your pitiable self, right? You're so despicable, Cena."

John stared at him for a few heartbeats and tried to swallow what he'd just heard and he felt something break deep inside. Despite his better knowledge he'd come over here and this had been one offending speech too much… The words should have made him mad, but instead it only hurt to hear them from the younger man.

"I don't know what's wrong with you, Randy, I just don't understand it. But I guess now I know why Sam left you," John replied calmly and the side blow hit home, he saw it in the cold grey eyes. "You are the most selfish, ignorant and foolish person I ever met. You know what? No one would miss you if you'd get lost and never come back. I'm fed up to the back teeth. The next time you mess with me I'm gonna make you regret it. Go to hell, Orton."

Randy's angry mask wavered a little, probably because he would have never expected a reaction and words like that from John, probably because of the way John had said it – not angry, no… calm, resigned. Not John Cena-like.

"Oh, wow. A speechless Randy Orton," the older man laughed mirthlessly. "No smartass response?"

Randy gritted his teeth. His jaw muscles twitched. He actually wanted to come up with a response but somehow he couldn't bring even one word over his lips. Instead he simply turned away from John and left the bar.

The very second the door fell shut behind Randy, John groaned and closed his eyes. He should have been mad or offended, but instead he felt guilty, sorry. He hadn't intended to say these things to Randy. Not like they weren't the truth, but he didn't really mean them the way he said it.

Knowing that he would again regret it, he jogged after the man. But he couldn't let him go like that.

Randy had already reached his car and was climbing onto the driver seat when he caught up with him. He grabbed the car door before the younger man could close it.

"Randy, please wait."

"What?!" Randy snapped.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay?"

"As if I care, Cena!"

With that he yanked the car door out of John's hand, started the car and left the parking lot.

"Fuck!" John shouted into the night and kicked against a street light.

While he watched the car drive down the road towards a road junction, he heard how the pub door opened, how Kofi called his name. His eyes followed the car reach the junction and a bad feeling grew in his chest, a feeling that he should have made him stay, somehow, somehow.

He watched the car cross the junction. And he watched as a big truck came from out of nowhere and collided with Randy's car, as the younger man's car overturned three times before it came to a stop on its roof. A moment later flames flared up.

The world stopped turning and time stood still, frozen in pure horror. Then reality came rushing back in a mighty clash and John ran.

The junction wasn't far away but the few seconds felt like an eternity to him. His eyes were locked with the wreck that had been Randy's car, praying that the younger man would crawl out of it any second but he didn't. He didn't. John cried his name but there was no movement in the wreck.

He pushed watching people aside and finally reached the wreck.

There was blood on the concrete, broken car glass… the driver's side was a distorted mess. And then he saw a tattooed, lifeless arm.

"Randy," he breathed. "No. No, no-no-no…"

Lying down beside the window, he ignored the voices behind him that told him to go away from the burning car.

Randy hadn't been wearing the safety belt and John found him lying face down on the inner side of the roof. There was blood everywhere. Too much blood. He reached out for the younger man's hand and called his name but there was no reaction.

Don't you dare…!

John could hear the growing flames, the sound of crawling fire. He had to get him out of the wreck and so he stretched forward, burying his fingers in bloodstained clothes and pulled the lifeless body out of the car inch by inch, whispering the younger man's name over and over again like a prayer.

Agonizing moments went by… And then finally Randy was free and John dragged him away from the wreck, away from the fire to a safe place where he kneeled down beside Randy, trying to find a pulse with trembling fingers.

"Thank you," he whispered when he found a weak pulse.

Blood was oozing out of uncountable cuts and a big laceration on Randy's forehead. He wasn't conscious and slowly it dawned on John that the younger man wasn't breathing.

"You're not going to die on me, Orton!" John yelled at him. "Don't you dare die on me!"

He leaned forward and breathed for him and he could taste the metallic tang of warm blood and he breathed, breathed… until Randy gasped and breathed on his own again.

"Randy, can you hear me? Open your eyes…"

Grey eyes fluttered open, making John sigh heavily in relieve. Randy's gaze was dazed and unfocused but he was conscious.

"That's it, Randy. Look at me," he whispered, intertwining their fingers and Randy's dazed eyes followed his voice ever so slowly. "We're going to get you through this. Don't even think about doing something stupid like dying, okay? Promise me. Come on, squeeze my hand."

After a moment John felt his hand squeezed weakly.

"Okay, that's good," he urged but the grey eyes drifted close again. "No, come on, just stay awake and keep looking at me. Randy!"

He leaned a little closer again and his free hand settled on a bloody cheek. Randy's eyes opened at the contact.

"Stay with me… stay with me…"

John faintly registered sirens but all he could think of, he could do was staying focused on Randy, to keep the contact, keep him awake, keep him alive. Suddenly there were voices that told him to let go so Randy could be taken to a hospital, felt Randy's fingers slip from his when their hands were separated.

He didn't want to let go, couldn't because he had to make sure the younger man would survive and he tried to fight against being dragged away. Then he heard well-known voices talking to him. Kofi? Punk? They were telling him that everything would be alright and that he needed to let the paramedics do their work. And he let go.

John eyes stayed locked on the younger man until the paramedics closed the door of the emergency ambulance and the car took off.

"John?"

It was Punks voice but he couldn't answer. He felt dizzy and his whole body began to tremble against this will. The next second his knees gave out. He could still taste blood on his lips, Randy's blood and he began to retch.

He heard his friends worried voice calling for a paramedic and he wanted to tell them that he didn't need help, that he wanted to go after the emergency ambulance… But then everything went black…