Disclaimer: I do not own any recognizable character in this story. All rights go to the WWE, with the exception of the characters Neah and Hayley. All original ideas, plots, ect. belong to me.
Hayley Drew walked through the large arena, a backstage pass on both her and her three year old daughter's neck. Everyone was giving them odd looks, mainly baby Neah. Hayley knew it would happen before she ever came; Neah looked so much like her father it was startling. She kept her head high though, the small baby bag with all of Neah's things hanging from her shoulder while the little girl herself kept her wide blue eyes on the ground, her fingers in her mouth.
She'd only been walking through the arena for a few moments before she came to an area full of superstars and divas. They were all signing autographs and taking pictures with fans, the lucky ones that made it backstage. A determined look crossed Hayley's features as she looked at her ex, knowing he most likely would not take the news all too well. A tug on the shoulder of her dark blue t-shirt caught her attention, making her look down.
Hayley had began teaching Neah sign language to communicate with people since she was a baby. It was easier for little children to express themselves with motions, rather than words. Neah signed 'tired' to her mommy, a sleepy look in her dark blue eyes. Hayley sighed in annoyance and pushed the little girls head onto her shoulder, making Neah close her eyes and grab fist fulls of her mommy's shirt. One problem with the sign language though, was that while Neah knew how to talk, she almost never did and stuck to signing what she needed to say. Hayley rarely heard her daughter's voice.
"John Cena," She stated, catching the man's attention as he signed an autograph.
The familiar voice had his head wrenching up in a second, his eyes going wide when he saw Hayley in front of him, with a baby in her arms. She watched as he stuttered, his best friend Randy Orton looking on in amusement. John very rarely fumbled over his words and very rarely found himself so shocked he couldn't speak.
"I think we should talk," Hayley gave him a bored look, her green eyes boring into his, "Privately."
Without another word, John quickly led Hayley back into his private dressing room, completely confused. Not only had she turned up out of the blue nearly three years after their very bad break up, but she was holding a little girl in her arms that resembled him to a T. John opened the door for Hayley, motioning for her to step in, before he walked in after and closed the door. Before he could open his mouth, Hayley had turned and pushed the little girl into his arms.
"This is Neah, she's two years old. She's your daughter. This is all her shit," Hayley dropped the bag at his feet, "She barely talks, she uses sign language to communicate. There's a paper with her stuff so you can know what she's saying. Everything you need to know about her is in a folder in that bag. Along with that is the legal papers saying I sign over all rights as a parent to you. I'm tired of her, I don't want her, you can have her. Have a good life."
Without another word, Hayley turned and walked out of the room. John was left stunned, standing in his dressing room with baby Neah in his arms. The little girl's eyes grew wide and frantic as her mommy walked away without her, a choked noise falling from her throat. She opened her hand in the "five" shape and pressed her thumb against her chin, wiggling her fingers slightly. When John only furrowed his brow at her, she pulled her hand back and poked her thumb at her chin repeatedly, tears swelling in her eyes.
"Oh, shit," John gasped, "Shh, don't cry. Just hold on one minute, just one minute."
He quickly scooped up the bag from the ground and dropped it onto the couch in his dressing room, yanking out the folder Hayley had been talking about. He ignored all of the papers, except for the one labeled 'sign'. He flipped through it frantically, seeing that the sign she was performing wasn't in the packet. A slur of curses slipped from his lips as he stood and quickly left the room to hunt down Randy. His best friend's wife had taken to teaching their daughter sign language after she was born.
"Randy! Man!" John caught his shoulder roughly, turning him and motioning to Neah who was wailing by now, "She was just doing this," John quickly repeated the sign to his best friend, "What does it mean."
"Mommy," Randy's gruff voice rolled over Neah's small body, making her cry harder, "What's going on dude?"
John ignored his question, instead asking one of his own, "What's daddy?"
"The same, except press your thumb to your forehead," Randy frowned.
"Neah, Neah, baby," John hefted her up in his arms so she was looking at his face, "Do you know what daddy is?"
Neah sniffled, big wet tears still falling from her blue eyes as she lifted her hand in the five shape again and pressed her thumb to her forehead, wiggling her fingers slightly. John nodded his head, using the hand that wasn't holding her up to wipe some of the moisture from her cheeks.
"That's me, baby," He said softly, "I'm daddy. Mommy wants you to spend some time with me, is that okay? Can you be with daddy for a while?"
John and Randy watched as the tears slowly began to slow and the former frowned when she did another sign. He looked at Randy with pleading eyes. The taller man sighed slightly, rubbing a hand over his face. He was lost and wanted to know what was going on with his best friend, but figured he wouldn't be getting any answers until the little girl was happy.
"That's tired," He stated, repeating the sign for John as she did another, "She wants to go to sleep. And that's blanket. She probably sleeps with her baby blanket."
"Thanks Randy, let me get her to sleep and I'll explain," John stated, sending his friend a thankful look before walking back to his locker room.
Randy followed after, knowing that if the little girl made another sign, John would be lost. He leaned in the doorway as his best friend dug through her bag, holding up a few blankets until she nodded at one. Randy could see that John was mentally exhausted. Just a few minutes ago, he'd been excited and full of energy; which worried Randy.
"Alright, Neah," John said softly, placing her in the nook of the couch and placing the blanket over her, "Daddy's gonna be right outside the door. If you need me, can you call for me?"
He watched as Neah nodded in response, her dark blue eyes that matched his growing heavy. He couldn't help but smile when they slipped closed, and he pressed a kiss against her forehead before standing and turning to face Randy. John glanced back at Neah for a moment before motioning for Randy to step outside and he followed, leaving the door open a crack.
"Now are you going to tell me what's going on?" Randy demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.
"My ex girlfriend, Hayley "
"The one that slashed your tires?"
John rolled his eyes, "Yes, that one. Anyway, apparently she'd gotten pregnant before I broke up with her and didn't tell me. That, in there, is Neah, my daughter. Hayley shoved her into my arms, said she gave up all rights as a parent and left."
"Holy shit fuck," Randy's grey blue eyes got wide, "She just left?"
"Just walked out," John felt anger burning through his chest, "She said she was tired of her and didn't want her."
Randy, having a daughter a year or two older than Neah, felt his blood boil, "I need to punch something."
Without another word to his friend, Randy turned and began stalking off towards the work out room in the arena. John sighed and rubbed a hand over his face before stepping back into his dressing room. Neah was completely out, her little blonde hairs falling in her face and her mouth open. She looked like a little cherub, with chubby cheeks and curly hair.
John sat on the floor next to the couch, carefully nudging a pillow on the edge on the cushions to make sure she didn't roll off in her sleep before pulling her bag over. He found it hard to believe Hayley had given up all of her rights without them both going to court, but in the packet she'd given him was a completely legit document with her signature. He snorted in false amusement upon seeing she'd forged his signature quite well. Along with that were her birth records, doctor records, and a short summary of her life.
For a moment he wondered how many other illegitimate children he had running around. He'd been having sex since he was fifteen and it would be a totally obnoxious lie to say he'd used protection every time. He'd been a really unresponsive teen, and that was an understatement.
Looking through the rest of the bag, he found a small scrapbook of pictures from birth until now. None were professional, but he didn't expect Hayley to dish out that kind of money, especially after she'd just up and left her baby. There was also a few guides for infant sign language, so John could learn. There was a packet about allergies, food likes and dislikes, her regular bed and nap times, medical conditions Hayley suspected she might be slightly albino and the medical history about her family that could possibly effect Neah.
John sighed and stood up, walking around to gather his things before putting all of Neah's belongings back into her baby bag. Upon putting it all away, he realized Hayley had only given him the bare minimum of clothes for her; a few tiny shirts and pants, socks, and underwear. He knew she probably figured he had more than enough money to buy her new things, but would it have killed her to pack enough to last Neah a week? He groaned lowly, knowing he would have to take her to get some clothes first chance he got.
Slinging both his and little Neah's bag over his shoulder he stood and looked down at her, a wary look on his face. He needed to pick her up, but didn't want to wake her. He'd seen first hand what happened when you woke a sleeping two-year old. Namely Alanna, Randy's baby girl. Exhaling silently through his nose he gently scooped her up into his arms, holding her small form against his shoulder. He muttered a curse when she stirred, bouncing her carefully and murmuring in her ear. She continued to wriggle for a few seconds before settling against his shoulder, her head against his chest.
"Damn, Orton wasn't lying," Someone murmured from the door, causing John to look up.
His eyes landed on a good portion of the WWE RAW roster, making him roll his eyes. It had been Triple H, also known as Paul Levesque, who'd spoken, his eyes glinting with amusement.
"Yeah, well I hope he told you the story too, because I need to get her into a bed," John said softly, "I'm sure sleeping on a couch isn't good for a two year old."
"She's so adorable!" The entire locker room was quick to viciously shush Jillian, who'd squealed so loudly it echoed.
John's breath caught in his throat when Neah started to stir again, her dark blue eyes cracking open. She looked around her, glancing over all of the people in the room before looking back up at John. A panicky feeling filled his chest when she made a sign.
"Hold on just a second sweetie," He stated, digging into her bag and pulling out the sign language packet, "I promise, I'll learn this as as fast as I can."
"She said bed," Randy stated from the doorway, walking in and taking the papers from John before waving them in his face, "This is a piece of crap. I'll get Sam to email you the one I used with Alanna."
"Alright," John agreed as his friend tossed the packet of papers, "I need to get her to the hotel now. So if you could all move to one side of the door or the other..."
He looked down, feeling a tug on his shirt. Neah was pouting up at him, making a sign over her chest. Hearing Randy laugh had him looking up again, noticing the amused smirk on the younger man's face.
"She wants you to say please."