Man in the Making
Chapter 15: Superman on a White Horse

A/N: Okay, so this is the final installment of Man in the Making, a title which was inspired, by the way, from a Holly Williams song of the same name that seemed to so perfectly fit Randy's character. As I mentioned yesterday, the new story is under way, the third in the trilogy, and hopefully you'll be anxiously awaiting it. We'll see. Anyway - Enjoy!

It's weird how life works, ya know? I mean, you think you're headed firmly in one direction. Sites set, compass workin' just fine. And then, like the snap of a finger, everything changes. You get a job offer, meet a girl, try some new hobby that just blows your mind. Everything just tilts and swirls and the world is different.

I don't know - maybe it's just me. I mean, I thought that I had it all figured out. I thought that I knew where I was headed, exactly how my life was going to turn out. I was gonna marry Tatum, wrestle until I was as old as Flair, and then retire, buy a boat, and cruise around the Caribbean with the sexiest woman I have ever known. That was the plan. That was the way things were supposed to turn out.

But now? Tatum's out of the picture. probably for good. If I can't get my shit together, I'm not gonna have a job for another six months. Vince made that pretty fuckin' clear in my 'welcome back' meeting. And if I keep rackin' up these fines, I'm not gonna be able to afford on of those little paper sail boats my brother and I used to make, let alone a yacht to sail the open seas. Nothing is as I pictured it.

Ya know what the weirdest fuckin' thing is, though? I mean, the strangest bull shit of all? I'm not bothered by it. I mean, parts of it are disturbing. The whole 'getting fired' thing's not fun to think about. And if I'm super-honest, the idea of being without Tatum for the rest of my life kinda stabs me in the heart still. I tell myself all the time that I'm over her, but I'm not really trying to be. 'Why not,' you ask? Because it's fucking hard to get over somebody who consumed you for so long. I kinda thought that rushing headlong into something else would make it easier. But seeing her a month ago. Shit.

And then there's Jamie. Beautiful, sweet, still madly-in-love with her dickhead boyfriend Jamie. Tatum was right about one thing that night in the restaurant - I needed to open up to somebody. And after that, for the rest of the time we hung out at my place, I could feel the shift between Jamie and I. We became friends. Started helping each other talk about things, and realize things. But I'm not a complete idiot. She's still in love with Josh, and I'm not sure that's going to change any time soon.

So what does that mean for my long term plan? Hell if I know. I mean, I've been sittin' here, watchin' the lights bounce off the hotel pool for the last two hours, tryin' to figure it out. I'm not over Tatum. Jamie's still with Josh. We don't belong together. Not as a couple. Not right now. But in about three hours, we're gonna pull out of here together. She's riding with me and Cena and Maria to Raw in Phoenix. Josh is heading out with the Smackdown crew for Tucson. And I don't have a fucking clue what happens next.

I stare at the water, but I can hear footsteps on the cement coming toward me. A tap of boot heels, gentle and slow-moving. She lowers herself into the chair across the table from me, and claps her hands together as she leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees. When I look over, I can't help letting out a low whistle. "Wow," I nod my head, leaning back in the chair. Not the most brilliant thing to say, but what I see shocks me.

She nods and casts her eyes out over the water. "It's a token of our love," she speaks dryly, her expression never really reaching her eyes.

"What happened?" I ask her, crossing my ankle over my knee and running my hand over my face. Part of it is to clear whatever traces of horror might be lingering there. The other part is to keep myself from springing out of the chair and going to find Josh, to give him the fat lip and swollen face that matches Jamie's. Maybe I'll do the right side of his to mirror the left side of hers. Fucker.

Jamie takes a deep breath and finally leans back, resting her arms on the sides of chair. "He flew his parents in, took me to dinner, and asked me to marry him." She shakes her head like she can't believe it.

I can. I mean, it's classic, isn't it? Watch your girl finally grow some balls and walk away? You thought you had her broken down far enough to fit into your back pocket, and then she builds herself back up again? Ya might actually lose the one person in the world who believes you aren't a complete dick face? You do whatever you have to do to get her back. It makes perfect sense to me, even if Jamie was startled by the proposal.

"Well," I finally say, letting out a deep breath and turning my face back to her, forcing myself to look at her bruises. "Either you said 'no' or he's got a really fucked up way of celebrating." I know she's gotta be in agony, but I think it's hurting me just as badly to see her like this. She's a good girl, Jamie is. She lost her way for awhile, but she was on the path to finding it again. To see her like this makes my chest ache.

She just shrugs, like she's trying to be tough. Like she's talking to somebody other than me. Somebody she didn't spend two weeks falling apart with. "Hurt worse last night," she says simply.

I want to knock that wall down. The one that she came to me with. The one that started cracking when she was at my place. But ya know what? I can't. I just can't do it anymore. I can't fix her. This thing, her issues? They're bigger than me. I can't keep fighting someone who doesn't wanna fight with me. And for that reason, I don't know what to say right now. I don't know how to offer her comfort. I can't keep pretending that I do.

The silence engulfs us. Not even the waves move in this enclosed pool area, and it's kind of eerie. Not because she's sitting next to me, looking like a human punching bag. Not even because she's not saying anything. It's because my own thoughts are becoming more clear. Because the truth is dancing in the front of my mind and I don't know what to do with it. I've been pushing it back for so long, but right now? In this moment? There's nothing left to distract me anymore.

"He never used to catch me unprepared," Jamie speaks, finally breaks the silence, and I pull myself out of my own mind to listen. "Any time he would push me, or smack me around, or even punch me, I was always ready for it." She chuckles a bit, as though she realizes how ridiculous that is. "I was always expecting it, at least. Saw it building. Braced myself for it." Picking at a spot on her knee, she shakes her head and starts to catch her lip between her teeth but then cringes. "Not this time, though."

I wanna say something. I really do wanna insert some grain of brilliant wisdom, but I don't have any. Partially because, no matter how I try to pretend I'm Superman, John was right. I'm in over my head. My other girls, Dani and Tatum? Their issues were kind of self-inflicted. They brought themselves to their own destruction. I don't know how to help someone who's letting someone else do it to them.

No, that's not true. I do know someone who has built relationships on someone else's destruction. I know someone, pretty damn well in fact, who has let other people drag them down and stomp on every ounce of belief they used to have, in themselves and the rest of the world. Pretty damn well indeed.

"I screamed." She shakes her head and lets out another chuckle. "Some guys like it when their girls scream. Makes 'em feel like they're in control. Like they have the power. But not Josh. He was trying to make me stronger. Toughen me up, he always says." This time, she doesn't laugh. Just lets out a long sigh. "Plus, we travel with a lotta people, ya know? Can't have everyone in the company hearin' me carry on. It's nobody else's business what goes on in our room.

"But I didn't see it comin' last night. I didn't wanna embarrass him in front of his family, so I told him that I needed some time to think about it, about the proposal. And then, in the car, I told him that I thought we had some issues to work through before we even thought about marriage. He just nodded along and said that he wasn't surprised. That he was just proposing to make me turn down the job offer anyway."

He's a fucking liar. I don't tell her that, but he is. He was posturing. Shruggin' off his rejection. It's a guy thing. And I don't like the fact that I'm identifying with Josh in anyway, but I woulda done the same thing. Not the beating. Just the lying to make sure I didn't look too crushed and pathetic. It's a pride thing.

She pulls her knees up to her chest and blinks back tears. I know this has got to be hard for her, reliving it all just a few hours after. But I didn't ask her for this. I didn't ask her to open up. This is all Jamie. I'm not going to push her to go on.

"I was packin' my shit, gettin' ready for today and everything, and I turned around to grab my hair dryer off the dresser," she stares at the floor like she's watching a movie on the cement. "Meet his fist with my mouth and it shocks the hell outta me. So I scream, and I guess it's fuckin' scary or whatever, cause there's this knock on the door and Josh yells at whoever's there to mind their fuckin' business and let him handle his."

It's like she's back in that room, no longer sitting here with me. Her eyes are glazed over and there's no emotion in her voice. She's not thinking about her words. She can't. The reality of it all is too fresh. The same way I told John about me and Tatum. If you think about it, you cry or freak out or do something completely fucking dangerous. So you don't think. You just speak and hope that it makes some sort of sense.

She goes on. "'I'm thinkin' he's gonna stop, 'cause people can hear, but he doesn't. Cause he's fuckin' irritated now. Beyond irritated. Pissed at me for openin' my fuckin' mouth. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to kill me," she says, almost like she's telling me that he ordered chicken for dinner. "Called me a bitch, told me I fuckin' ruined his life. I guess I was distracted or whatever, thinkin' this was it and I was gonna die, so I didn't really see his fist again. Just fell back against the bed. My cheek felt like it was on fire, and I remember thinkin' "Momma was right." That was all. Just that my mom was right about him.

"Next thing I know, he's straddling me, 'bout to start in again, and the door busts open. Stephanie's yellin' somethin' and Hunter comes chargin' at Josh, but he's already in mid-swing, right? So when Hunter grabs him, he can't stop the momentum. Landed a fist square in Hunter's jaw."

"Oh, shit," I gasp without thinking. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I'm laughing. Because I couldn't have sealed Lafferty's fuckin' fate any better if I tried. But I can't laugh. "That's enough to get your ass fired right there," I mumble.

Jamie nods. "And arrested." She rests her chin on her knees and looks at me through thick lashes. "I know this is gonna sound fuckin' crazy, because I love him and I shouldn't feel like this." She blushes wildly and looks over toward the water. "It's just kind of a . . ."

"Relief?" I fill in for her, though I'm not sure I'm talking to her anymore. It's the same thing I felt when things ended, for good, with Tatum. Like the ride was fucking amazing, like I might wanna get in line to ride again, but I'm glad it's over at the same time. Like maybe I can find some stable ground again. Like maybe the world can stop spinning for a second.

She nods and lets her legs fall to the ground. "At your house, I realized something. You and me?" She reaches over and rests her hand over mine. "We're not that different from each other, ya know? Fightin' like hell to fix the things that we don't like about the people we love? Making sure that nobody ever has to feel as badly about themselves as we do.

"But when you were talking about walking away from Tatum, you said you just couldn't do it anymore. Last night, when Josh proposed to me, what you meant clicked. He said that he was going to change, and maybe he would have for a minute, but we both knew it wasn't going to last. And the more I thought about spending the rest of my life like that? I just couldn't do it. Couldn't live in fear." Squeezing my hand, she smiles, a tear glistening in her eye. "And you helped me see that."

I appreciate the compliment, ya know? I do. But I'm not thinking about saving her right now. "I've spent my entire adult life sitting on top of this fucking white horse, just waiting to ride in and save the day. But the kicker is that most of the time, I'm just steering the damn thing in a fucking circle." I don't know where the words come from - it's not exactly what I've been thinking about for the last couple of hours. But with Jamie, I've learned the things that need to be said just kinda tumble out when I stop trying to figure out the right thing, and just say what I'm feeling.

She stands from her chair and holds out a hand to me, leading me to the edge of the pool. Lowering herself to the ground, she slips her boots off and rolls her jeans up, sinking her feet into the still water. "You know what the problem is with being up on that horse, Randy?" she asks as I join her. "You miss all the shit that's goin' on down on the ground."

She's right. In my gut, I know that what she's saying is right because that is what I've been thinking for the last two hours. I've been thinking about everything I've missed. Everything I could have been if I hadn't been so consumed with fixing Tatum. If I hadn't been so intent on fixing Dani. If I hadn't spent so much time trying to fix Jamie. I've been thinking about the things that I could have done for me.

She looks at the waves her feet are making in the pool and shakes her head for what seems like the millionth time. "I have been travelling with this company for two years, and I hadn't talked to Stephanie until last night. Hadn't talked to you until a couple of months ago. The rest of the cast and crew? Nothin'. Never spoken to any of them. Never said 'Hi, my name's Jamie, how's it goin'?' or anything. This whole world that I've been in? I've never been a part of it."

The weird part is that I feel like that, too. I talk to all of those people. I spend more time with the guys in this company than I do with my own family. But I'm not a part of it, either. I can't be. Not when I'm always trying to fix it.

She reaches over and rests her hand on my thigh and I can feel the heat from her fingers seeping through my jeans. "Maybe, instead of riding in on the white horse to save everybody else," she smiles with the raise of her eyebrow, "it's time you jump down and work on saving yourself."

It's the same thing John said to me months ago. Stop tryin' to save everybody else and start saving myself. Except that I don't know how to do that. And I'm not sure how to figure it out. "When Tatum and I broke up," I start, looking at Jamie and then looking away. This is hard for me, guys. This is the first time I've ever said this out loud and I'm not sure that I can look into Jamie's soulful eyes while I do it. "She told me that being with me made her want to use. That I was, like, some reminder of her addiction. And I thought she was crazy at the time, but I think maybe she was right, ya know?

"I think I need to be alone for awhile. To figure out how to do that. To figure out how to be enough without somebody else needing me. Without having to fix somebody else." I take her hand in mine and stare at it. Not for the first time, I wish I wasn't such a fucking mess. Touching Jamie, holding her hand, being close to her? It's the best feeling I've had in a long time. Like my chest, and every chaotic pounding inside of it, just knows that it's okay to settle down. That she gets it, and it's okay to just be still for a minute.

She's not unlike me. We're both damaged. Both broken. But ya know what? We're both ready to be fixed. And I think we're both realizing, maybe for the first time, that nobody else can do that for us. That immersing ourselves in somebody even more fucked up than we are isn't helping anything at all. "It's a shame," she finally whispers as her head falls against my shoulder.

"What is?" I ask, feeling the calm wash over me in waves. This feels right. Hopeful. Like I might actually be okay after all. I guess the first step to recovery really is admitting that there is a problem.

With a gentle sigh, Jamie burrows her head even deeper into my neck. "I'm all single now, and you're not available. Timing's never really been my strong suit."

I can't help the laugh that escapes my throat at her statement. Now she wants to flirt? Even though I know she's kidding, I can't help feeling somewhat buoyed by the soft smile in her voice. "Tell you what," I start, winding my arm around her waist. "Once I figure out how to be boring Clark Kent for awhile, I'll look you up. See where you're at. Maybe we'll be ready for each other then?"

She pulls away, just enough to look into my eyes and shakes her head. "I don't like that plan. How 'bout we keep in touch along the way - I mean, since we're gonna see each other at work all the time or whatever anyway. If you need somebody to talk to? I'm your girl. If I need somebody, you're my guy," she proposes.

Is the first step to recovery admitting that there is a problem? Or is it admitting that you need help? That you really can't do it alone? Because everybody keeps telling me that I need to fix myself, but I know me. And I know that Jamie's right. I'm gonna need somebody to talk to. Somebody other than Cena. Somebody who really gets it. Who's been there. Somebody like her. "I like that plan," I smile and hug her back to my side again.

For a long moment, we say nothing, only sit in the hopeful peace that envelopes us where complete despair had been before. And then she touches my cheek. "For the record, Randy Orton, you can figure out how to be Clark Kent, but you'll always be Superman to me."

Awe. She's sweet. My little Jamie is sweet. "That is," I start to express myself, but can't keep the laughter at bay. "Probably the corniest thing I have ever heard."