Disclaimer: I don't own WWE or the Superstars or the songs i use as titles.

Chasing Pavements

Chapter 1

GIVES YOU HELL

"What's on your mind Trishy?" he asked her slyly. She froze, avoiding eye contact with him. "Answer me!" he shouted, causing everyone in the room to jump. The quick distraction catalysed John's attempt to stop Chris.

After that, everything else in Trish's perspective went blurry. Through the screaming coming from the guests, the yelling of "Grab it, grab the gun!" being called out numerous times, Chris' yelling, bodies everywhere, punches being thrown, frantic scrambling of people, to the on gunshot that pierced through the hearing of every person in the room;

Trish's vision went black.

Her eyes quivered as she began to open them, searing pain taking over her body. She trembled as her surroundings became clearer and that she was lying on the floor. She noticed the scrambling of people, the screaming as bodies encircled her and her name being called out over and over again. As soon as she saw John appear above her, her hands immediately clutched her lower abdomen.

"Trish!" John screamed as his hands covered hers. That's when she noticed the blood. The blood that kept seeping from beneath her hands, soaking her shirt. She had been shot. "Trish, baby, it's going to be okay!" John cried as he bent over and cradled her face with his hands.

Tears began to form in her eyes as her eyes darted around the room, catching glimpses of her friends and family crying, with shocked expressions. She was scared and confused. Her breath hitched in her throat as she struggled to breathe. John looked over her, into her eyes, still crying. She tried to speak, but the lack of air was getting to her.

"I love you Trish," she heard John whisper as her senses finally shut down.

She died.

--

"Oh shit!" Trish gasped, jerking her eyes open. "I died," she choked out.

Her heavy breathing and sudden movement caused John to immediately wake. He sat up and hovered over her distraught figure, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "Trish, honey what's wrong?" he asked with worry.

She didn't immediately answer, which concerned him even more. He noticed she was burning up and sweating so he quickly pulled the covers away from her body. "Babe, what's wrong, what happened?" he said in a soothing voice as he pushed her hair from her forehead. "Tell me."

Trish's fearful eyes locked with his as she finally began to calm, realising she was with John in their bed. She swallowed hard and stared back at John. "I died," she whispered, her breath hitching in her throat.

"What?" John asked but soon realised what she was talking about. "Shh, it's okay I'm here," he eased and continued to stroke her forehead.

Recently she had been having the same recurring nightmare, which was precise to what had happened, except no one was shot, and no one had died, especially not Trish. The gunshot was aimless and luckily did not injure anyone. Whilst John and Randy had been able to restrain Chris and rid him of the weapon, Trish had fainted from the chaos. At first, when she came to at the hospital, she believed she had been shot, but John was able to reassure her that everything was alright and no one had been hurt. However Trish was still shaken by the whole ordeal.

Chris was taken into custody and charged with attempted murder, sentenced to 7 years in prison. Although everything seemed to be fine whilst everyone moved on with their lives, Trish had still felt a little uneasy. Not wanting her to suffer, she and John made the decision to transfer colleges to New York in hopes to start over.

--

"Oh God, it's amazing!" Trish beamed as she twirled around in the empty living room space.

John cringed at his surroundings. "Really?" he questioned as he glanced at the shipped wall paint, dusty floorboards. "Yeah I guess these holes in the plasterboard and these paint splattered windows…oh and these tattered curtains are really amazing!" he replied sarcastically as he inspected the dilapidated room.

Trish pouted and placed a hand on her hip. "Honey, it's fine," she assured him. "Of course it looks not-so-glamorous now, since we don't have furniture or haven't even started fixing it up!" she giggled. "Give it some time and some much need TLC and it will be beyond amazing!"

"Yeah," he sighed. "I would have much rather just invested in a nice studio apartment that had decent flooring, walls and windows…" he manoeuvred into the bedroom and bent over placinng his forehead against the wall. "And did not have a fucking peep hole that peeks right into our next door neighbours bathroom!" he said in a disgusted tone.

"What!?" Trish shrieked as she joined him and peered through the wall. "What the hell, you have a full view of the bloody toilet from here!"

"Sick previous tenants," John muttered. "Could have been living in an upscale place, but no, we have to stay in the Pee-Pee Perv's apartment," he whinged.

Trish pulled away from the wall and rolled her eyes at John. "Well we said we would do this whole move thing by ourselves, with what money would be buy an 'upscale apartment', John?" she said, placing her hands on her hips. "We are on student funds, remember?"

John sighed. She was right; they could never afford it on their own. At least not right now with their current financials. He put his hands up in defence. "Hey all's I'm saying is that we could have maybe avoided the Pedo Palace if Trishy had accepted Mommy and Daddy's generous donation," he said cautiously, knowing he was touching on a sensitive topic.

"John!" Trish groaned in frustration. "I thought—"

Knowing where this was going he quickly interjected, "Whoa okay, chill!" he moved closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him. "Okay, I'm sorry." He muttered into her hair. "As long as I'm with you I don't care where I live."

"Thank you," she smiled up at him before placing a quick kiss on his lips. "I love you," she grinned.

John huffed. "Yeah, i guess i love you too," he grinned.

--

It took the couple a fair few months to settle into their apartment. With careful spending they managed to turn their previously rundown home into a not so much of an eye sore. It still wasn't anything pretty, John was still conviced a new apartment was in order, but Trish was not ready to give up on her little work of art as long as it was decent, and allowed them to live their lives.

Being in New York, John and Trish constantly felt home sick. During the three years since they left, they had visited home in Boston a few times for Thanksgiving and John's parent's twenty fifth anniversary, but with travel expenses taking its toll on their already tight budget they had to limit their visits.

To help, they had kept in constant touch with Randy and Stacy—who now had a beautiful two year old daughter, Abigail. They have travelled to New York once to see John and Trish, but it too was difficult to always leave home and travel with a young child so they used phone an email more often. Being busy with school and adjusting with John and Trish's new lifestyle had limited their time to make friends in their new home, however they did become close to a young couple that lived downstairs in their apartment building. They were a few years older than John and Trish themselves, but very relatable and they offered a good influence, support and friendship to the younger pair.

Over the years they had all become close friends, much to John and Trish's relief. Most people in their building were very reserved and anti social, most living on their own and not keen enough to bother to even say 'hi'. John and Trish were grateful they had met Paul and Stephanie.

Paul Levesque was employed by Stephanie's father, Vince McMahon who owned a stream of small businesses that didn't earn a lot of money. The two were in a similar situation to John and Trish where Paul was bringing in whatever money he could, whilst Stephanie was back at school to get a degree in Communications. With comparable lifestyles, both couples assisted each other in any way they could, which helped build their friendship.

--

"Trish, you have no idea how much school is killing me!" Stephanie groaned as she slumped down on the couch, wine glass in hand.

Trish arched an eyebrow at her friend. "I have no idea?"

John scoffed and flopped down next to Trish. "Pfft, more like Paul has no idea," he laughed.

The three students turned at glared at Paul with envy. He shrugged as he took a seat next to Stephanie. "Hey now, I go to work, I know what it's like to be dead tired and still be worked to the bone!" he reassured.

"Sounds like you're talking about mine and Trish's sex life—OW!" John winced in pain after Trish elbowed him hard in the ribs. She glared at him as he mouthed, "It's true" to Paul as Stephanie giggled.

"Anyway," Paul continued through chuckles. "Steph, you gotta tell your dad to lay off a bit, I mean he's got me managing a thousand different things, it's like he doesn't think I have a personal life!" he whined.

"Stop being such a baby, Daddy doesn't work you that hard, and plus he lets you get plenty of time to rest at home," she replied casually.

"Rest? Don't you mean, lets me be hassled and nagged by his daughter 24/7?" he muttered, but clear enough for Stephanie to hear.

"Excuse me?" she arched a disapproving eyebrow at him. "Hassle and nag?"

Paul opened his mouth to defend himself, but John interjected. "Dude, I know exactly what you mean—John stop watching football and help with this, John do that, John you haven't fixed the ceiling fan yet…" he mimicked Trish's voice and Paul laughed.

Trish turned and glared at her boyfriend, as Stephanie did with hers just as the phone began to ring. John laughed as he began to get up. "As much as I'd love to hang around for this up and coming discussion, I'm gonna go answer that," he chuckled and left Paul to deal with the two pissed off women.

"Ladies…" Paul put his hands up as his laughter subsided. "Let's not get too feisty or we'll have to get a mud match going on!"

The two women frowned, unamused at his humour. Paul took this as a cue to stop laughing and stared back at them, slightly frightened at what they were going to do.

John sighed into the phone. "Are you sure?" he said sadly. "Okay, thanks for letting us know, really appreciate it." He breathed out deeply before hanging up the phone. He re-entered the living room only to find Trish and Stephanie attacking Paul with cushions. He chuckled slightly before interrupting.

"Hey Trish," he said softly.

"John, can't you see we are in the middle of beating the shit out this man that calls himself my boyfriend!?" Stephanie yelled as she smacked Paul in the face with the cushion.

"Yea John, and don't think you're not next!" Trish warned as she looked up at him with an evil grin. However noticing his expression she stopped and looked back at him with confusion. "What's wrong? Who was that on the phone?"

Stephanie and Paul stopped fighting when seriousness filled the air. John sighed and lowered his head. "It was Sgt. Hornswoggle from Boston...it's about Chris, he's out of jail."

Trish gasped. Stephanie and Paul's faces dropped as they shook their heads. They had been informed of Chris and his past doings when they had first met Trish and John.

"No, no way," Trish shook her head. "He has to be there for 7 years, it's only been three!" she shrieked.

John quickly approached her and wrapped her in his arms. "He got parole, good behaviour or some shit," he kissed her head and hugged her tighter. "Sgt. Hornswoggle just thought he'd tell us, but he said it's nothing to worry about, he won't know where we are."

"Yeah Trish," Paul assured her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You're here in New York, that bastard can't get to you."

She nodded and buried her face into John's chest.

--

That's when the nightmares started. She began having them every couple of weeks. She would dream of the day, but only in her dreams she had died. He had tried to talk to her and snap her out of it, but it didn't seem to help. Chris was still haunting her dreams and it made him so mad that he wasn't able to do anything to stop it. He hated how that son of a bitch had ruined Trish's life.

"I died John, I died!" She cried into John's shoulder. He hated hearing her say those words. Thinking that he could have lost her that day made him shudder.

John cradled her in his arms and kissed her hair. "It's okay, it wasn't real, it was just a dream, Babe." He pulled her in closer and felt her clutch onto him tighter. "You are safe now."

Well, well, well.

About time huh? One thousand sorry's that it took so darn long! But hey, I got it done. In my attempt to bore you all to death, i have a few things to say:

It really is ME, author of "Make You Smile". Different pen name, yes. I was TrishxCena, then Charismatic Peep and now finally, Team Novak. It will probably change again in the near future :P

Yes, this is the sequel to "Make You Smile". For those that haven't/ aren't going to read it...I tried a little bit to sum up what happened at the end. Don't know how helpful it is though. This story is going to be a bit/alot different to my other one. It's more crime/drama, but there is some romance don't get me wrong. Oh and M. It may also become a rated M...be cautious kiddies. But nothing OTT, i'll warn you anyway when it comes up though.

Please bear with me, i don't have experience with drama/crime stories...so i'm sorry if it's suckish when it comes to police jargon and the like.

Okay and finally, i like suggestions, so tell me what you think or what you want to see. Anything to make the story better for you guys! :D

Ps. Stephanie is my new "Omg I'm obsessed" person at the moment (we all get that don't lie)...so i might go overboard with her in the story by accident. Only coz she is so amazingly cool :P Sorry in advance. But it is still a John/Trish focus.

x Peace