Warning: Before you proceed, just keep in mind that English is NOT my mother language. So there will certainly be mistakes in this text. Yet, I'm eager to improve, so if you see some corrections to make, don't hesitate to contact me :-)

Background Music: As the atmosphere from a music can influence our mood and the way we write, here's the songs that were playing in loops while I was writing this: Submersed: "We all make mistakes"; Ryan Star: "Start a Fire" (just in case you want to immerse yourself in the same atmosphere while reading ;) )

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NEVER GOT A CHANCE

Chapter 7 - There's no Smoke without a Fire.

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'Oh God… What have I done to offend Thee?'

Cena felt his world spinning and paled considerably. Out of every single person in the WWE who called the hospital for Wade and heard that his 'boyfriend' was by his side, it had to be Vince! The big boss was going to have a fit when he would hear Wade's boyfriend voice! Cena secretly hoped it would be a stiiiriiiking fit, leading to a massive heart attack.

He saw that the nurse became alarmed and decided to do what he was best at: total improvisation. He didn't even have to think of an explanation, the words came out of his throat naturally.

"He didn't know...", he whispered with a worried and sad look on his face. "That's our boss. We could both lose our job if he found out". He looked mortified, but he was dancing inside when he saw her eyes widening. She was going where he wanted. Living in a state not exactly tolerant to fags could make her think that she had made a big mistake by giving away this boyfriend information. A very big mistake. She looked despaired and guilty. She obviously didn't have the slightest idea how to correct her mistake. "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean-".

He interrupted her with an unease smile and a slight frown. "It's okay. I'm going to try something... I just hope it'll work...". And he took the phone she was extremely relieved to give him. Cena never liked to be such a manipulative bastard, but in times like these, unearthing this talent of him could be a matter of life and death. Literally.

"Vinny, heeey!", he started directly. A large smile appeared on his face when he heard his boss almost choking when the old man realized who was the owner of that male voice.

"CENA?", he managed to shout. "What the hell is-"

"No, don't worry about this boyfriend stuff", John interrupted him with an amused tone. "It's just a confusion. The nurse wrongly understood something I said earlier". Oddly, it was the total truth. The absolute truth. But the nurse was persuaded otherwise, and smiled to him in an encouraging way. "C'mon, Vinny. Me and Barrett? Naaaaaah...". He had managed to add some specific 'color' to his phrase. The same disdain tone a republican would have once said 'What? A black president for the United State of America? Naaaaaah...!'

"Look Cena", Vince started a little bit more composed. "As long as the fans know nothing, I don't care - and I don't want to know - who's fucking who in the company". Cena's complexion went from deadly pale to bright red as he briefly pictured he and Wade together in a quite non-PG situation, and it took all he had not to violently throw the phone and running away, screaming insanely until he had no voice left from his throat (but plenty in his head).

"What I do care about, is two things", Vince went on in a low and growling voice. "One, we didn't know where you were. You left the arena abruptly, and warned no one of your destination. Plus your cell-phone has been off for hours! Do you realize everybody was freaking out here? We even called the Police!".

John had to fight a bubble of acidity in his stomach. He didn't know what information or instructions the cops had received, but they would be looking in hospitals in first place. And Vinny had probably given them the description and license plate of his rental car.

John tried to calm his own voice. "I had to, Vince. I had to switch off my phone once I was in the hospital. Call back the cops! I was going to call you as soon as I had news from Wade! I swear!"

"... Which leads me to the second thing that annoys me", Vince went on. "Among any wrestler... no, any WWE workers, you are the last person to be expected around Barrett! Are you a FUCKING IDIOT?". He was screaming now. Cena could easily imagine his purple face complexion and the pulsing veins on his neck and forehead. With a bit of chance maybe that beloved heart attack wasn't very far. "The place where you should be, is home! You should get some rest, and wait for Wade's news while our lawyers are preparing everything. Actually, you do not talk to anybody, you shut that big mouth of yours, and you LEAVE that place!"

Cena understood why Vince was both angry and scared. His mind was probably reliving the Owen Hart incident, and he knew that the Press wouldn't be long before suspecting that the whole beating-with-a-chair thing was not scripted. Soon or later, someone in the company would let some words slip by, and people from the media would spread in the whole city like a cockroach invasion.

And the first place they would be looking at, would be hospitals. Perhaps some paparazzi had written down the license plates of the WWE crews and superstars and would start comparing with what they'd find in the different hospital parking lots.

Cena tried to push his paranoia away. He was living and breathing WWE, so it was normal that after awhile he could think that everybody knew about WWE as well. But the way this nurse, Carla, was reacting, was teaching him something new: not everyone was interested in wrestling. So maybe there wouldn't be a lot of people from the media searching for Wade's whereabouts. But by morning, when the words would spread that - perhaps - an athlete from a world wrestling show had been almost killed in a televised match, there the whole media would jump on the case, and people who didn't know the slightest thing about wrestling, would suddenly pretend to be an expert and would be quick to judge.

"I won't leave, Vince", Cena softly replied. "I need to know, do you understand? I need to know if he's gonna make it. I owe him that, and-".

"You owe him shit! I don't care about your stupid code of honor!", Vince interrupted him. "This goes beyond you and him. The whole WWE could suffer from this. So I'm not asking, Cena. I'm ORDERING YOU to leave that place and go home RIGHT NOW! And you don't talk to ANYBODY. The Company lawyers will contact you later tomorrow to discuss about our next moves."

"Vince, I'm STAYING!", Cena's voice echoed in the corridor, accentuating the dramatic effect, and making the nurse startle on her chair. He lowered his voice a little, "At least, until the operation is done and I know more about his state. Plus let me remind you that I've taken a severe beating as well!". Much to remind Vince of the dangers his Golden Boy was facing, not only on a reputation level, but also on health level.

"As soon as I know more about him, I'll ask for a personal check-up myself", he went on. "You don't want me traveling with a broken rib, or a potential aneurysm, heh?".

He mentally counted the seconds of silence on the other line, collecting them like so many champion belts. He also saw the concern look on the nurse's face who was now examining him from behind her desk, searching for some injury signs she hadn't tried to see earlier. He lifted his hand in a reassuring gesture. On the other side of the phone conversation, he heard Vince's exasperate sigh, and knew he was closer to victory.

"You do that", Vince started. "Then you take the first flight to Florida, you speak to no one, you go home and stay there until further notice. I don't want to see the company and everything I worked for all these past decades, going into ashes because of some relationship problem between two of my employees. You may be our #1, but no one is more important than the WWE, AM I CLEAR?"

"Yes…", John simply replied, too happy to have earned a few more minutes, or hours, to truly realize what Vince had really meant.

"And as soon as you get news from Barrett, you call me or Paul, ok?"

"Yes", John's voice was firmer now, even though he was dreading which kind of news he would have to bring to the old man. After some long seconds of silence, he finally realized that his boss had hung up without a word. This didn't bode well. But as long as he was allowed to stay here a little longer, he wouldn't complain. It would have been impossible for him to find rest at home, not knowing Wade's whereabouts.

Not knowing if he was a murderer, or just a particularly tensed wrestler.

John just handed the phone back to Carla. She took it with care and put it back on the receiver. Only then, she spoke: "Did he buy it?". John frowned, having momentarily forgotten what she was speaking about, before it clicked in his mind.

"Uh… yeah…", he started, unsure. "I mean, I hope. I don't know actually…", he added, more for himself, but realizing quickly that the guilt Carla would feel was a guarantee she'd be there in case he needed help in a near future… in order to redeem herself.

'Did Vince really buy it?', Cena wondered, before he suddenly remembered that 'relationship problem between two of my employees'. Something he hadn't denied or fought against. If Vince had some suspicions, his lack of reaction had probably fed them to a whole new level.

Cena started walking towards the operating room again, not paying attention to Carla's intense gaze as the nurse was still trying to check the extension of his injuries from behind her desk. He knew that his morose attitude would probably add some more guilt to the Latino woman, but something else was nudging his mind. Vince obviously had some suspicions about Wade and him in a 'relationship'. The simple mention of that word in his head was automatically bringing some quite graphic images in his mind, making him feel a bit nauseous, unless it was from a slight concussion he may have gotten in their previous match. But what had originally created these suspicions? As he and Wade had apparently been fighting verbally or physically against each other from beginning to end, where did Vince see anything that would make him imagine otherwise?

And as he came into view with the nightmarish red light above the surgery door, a color so close to RAW spotlights, some details popped up into his mind. Through their "game", they had displayed some kind of weird chemistry, but a chemistry anyway. Their sometimes physical closeness and innuendos on the ring or during their video segments had probably been unnoticed by most of the WWE Universe, especially for the younger ones. But for someone like Vince, professional paranoid, all these details had probably set off so many alarms in his mind.

And as Cena sat one more time on his uncomfortable bench in front of the operation room, other memories came back. When the NEXUS had invaded RAW, Barrett had been most of the time particularly brutal with him. But the moment John had joined the group, the Brit had considerably softened with him. Cena focused on what could have triggered Vince's mind and came out with a few crystal clear memories: Wade patting on his shoulders, or passing a comforting arm around him, sometimes brushing his neck absentmindedly with his thumb; Wade pushing the referee shirt against John's chest and keeping his hand in place even after John had inadvertently interlaced some fingers with his while trying to keep the shirt from falling on the floor; Wade passing a hand in the back of John's neck and pulling him almost against him on the ring in order to whisper in his ear a few instructions for the next match.

Those were incidents you could quickly forget, or natural behavior you never gave a second thought to. But Vince had probably stored each and every one of them in specific areas of his brain, taking them all out to make some kind of ugly puzzle.

Cena shuddered. And he wasn't sure it was because of the returning cold - something he had completely forgotten to tell Carla. His mind went back to Vince. Perhaps the COO wasn't the only one who got the wrong idea while observing them. Maybe other WWE talents had perceived differently their game and chemistry. Only God knew how many people inside WWE would shout "Of course! We KNEW it!", if that crazy rumor was going to spread. And for Vince, the coup de grace was Carla. Cena had probably let something too specific slip by for the nurse to think of them as lovers. Vince would think that there's no smoke without a fire. Cena's only asset was that he had actually never said out loud that he was Wade Barrett's boyfriend. He could always cross back the bridge and withdraw when charged.

But John knew also how fast a rumor could grow, and how difficult it was to remove it later from people's mind. By the time he would have the occasion to deny anything regarding a relationship with Barrett, another rumor would have come to life: some of his colleagues would start wondering if the beating-to-death with a chair was due to some problem in their private relationship. Soon, they would start wondering if this or that bruise on Wade earlier was really due to some minor incident during a house show fight, or due to some domestic abuses from Cena.

John passed a trembling hand on his face. In his exhaustion state, his paranoia was kicking in. But you couldn't remain the WWE #1 for so many years without becoming too perfectionist and a bit paranoid. Anyway, after tonight, maybe he wouldn't remain #1 much longer. Part of Vince's actual plan probably involved to keep him away for awhile and claim to the WWE Universe that he had been injured in his match against Barrett, and if the Brit didn't make it: that the leader of the Cenation was undergoing an anger management therapy. And while he was away, somebody else would become WWE's new top face. Vince and Creative had certainly a plan B up their sleeves. Probably since the very moment he had become WWE's Golden Boy. John wondered who his replacement would be. Rey? JoMo? Randy?

Randy's mention in his mind automatically brought back the voice in his head.

'Bravo, Johnny! Splendid. Wade is probably breathing his last ones on the other side of the door, but don't bother. Keep worrying about your career, and about how people will look at you. But whoever comes #1, you can still go to him with a chair for a … nice talk. Of course, if you killed Wade, getting your throne back will be the least of your concerns: maybe WWE security will receive the instruction to keep you out of the building, at any cost'.

John tried to kick that voice away. He hated when he didn't look like the nice guy everybody expected him to be. Even in his own head. That little pernicious voice kept pointing to every dark and ugly sides of him. He didn't know how Randy was dealing with his own inner voices, but clearly himself was not enjoying it.

But then, he remembered Wade's empty eyes as the Brit was staring at him from the floor of the ramp, totally inert, blood running from his nose. Oh, he had already stopped reacting almost a minute earlier, but that hadn't stopped Cena from going on with the chair-beating. He realized now that had he had a knife instead of a chair at that moment, he would have probably reacted no differently, and would have stabbed Wade repetitively, exploding the PG label, and sending a whole generation of kids through intense therapy.

No, his inners voices were pointing out the truth he kept denying: "Mister nice guy has gone on holiday. Please live a message after Wade Barrett's flat-line Beeeeeeeeeeep."

Cena passed a hand on his face and closed his eyes, breathing deeply, trying to push away all those dark thoughts and focus on here and now. But when he opened his eyes again and looked at his hand, he saw it shaking, but couldn't decide if it was due to the adrenalin from the memory of the beating, or his nerves breaking down in front of the atrocity he had accomplished.

What horrified him the most was not the memory of Wade lying lifelessly on the ramp, but the mixture of joy coursing through his veins at the memory of the chair-beating, and the regret for all the other death-scenarios he could have applied. It was like part of him was sad he hadn't taken one of his Top 3 scenarios to finish the Brit.

'Sure, Johnny', the voice in his head started with a amused tone, 'let's face it: an STF mixed to an Open Window is perhaps not as spectacular as a chair beating, but had you applied these on Wade while on the ramp, all the kids around would have been able to admire how a human skin can magically change color from flesh to ashen blue. And I'm sure the kids who'd have been close to you - those who would usually extend their hands in hope to touch their hero - would have perfectly heard the particular breaking sound coming from Wade's neck at apotheosis. But don't worry, they wouldn't start imitating that at school - according to the fact that their therapists would ever let them return to school. You always tell them with that charming smile of yours that they shouldn't imitate your moves, because you are a pro. Because you control yourself…'

"Shut up!", John moaned in displeasure, trying to push that voice away. But as the air temperature suddenly dropped again, now other images invaded his mind. He saw himself immobilizing Wade with his classical STF move while the arm he had passed around Wade's throat was tightening, and tightening. He could almost feel the heat radiating from Wade's body underneath him as the man was struggling to free himself. He could almost feel Wade's pulse from the vein of his neck against the skin of his arms. A pulse that was becoming erratic as the youth's struggles were reducing. He could almost feel the pain provoked by Wade's nails digging into the flesh of his arms, in an attempt to free himself or at least to gain some air. He could almost feel the moisture from Wade's hair against his cheek as he applied the maximum strength on his STF in order to put Wade's body through the maximum tension, feeling a scream building into Wade's lungs but never managing to be released more than as a weak whimper.

And he felt great…!

When he realized with horror where his mind was taking him again, he forced himself to remember that fatal day of May. The memory of Wade's smile, his radiant face and shining eyes, came in his thoughts with the same impact as a stone thrown in a quite lake, and destroyed the perfect reflection of rage on its surface.

"I… I need help…"

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TO BE CONTINUED.

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Here it is! A new chapter! ;) I know, it took me a lot of time, but the worst is that it was 97% done one month ago. I just couldn't find the time to make the last adjustments/corrections :/

Thank you all for your patience, for not sending a hired killer after me (because, to be perfectly quite honest, this would make updates a bit more difficult, naw mean? ;) ). And thanks to WWE-Slash-Luvee, Rebelwilla, Your End Of Days, Nefra, Roronoa Minamino and WebbiTheBroski12 for taking the time to leave a review, comment, questions, etc… :) As much as you love reading my stories, I love reading your point of view and your questions :) Thank you all for your nice comments ^_^

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And now, the answers:

Wade's ears turning red: I can't leave a direct link with fanfiction . net, but if you go to wade-barrett . com website and go into the forum, search for the "A physical sign from Wade to "read" ;-)" topic. Everything is explained there with pictures ;)

Nefra: Merci pour les corrections. J'ai fais les changements nécessaires. Miciiiii ;)

Old Nexus / Wade fanfics: I receive the same kind of questions about the comics I do. I don't have a lot of time to write and draw, so I prefer to write about the period of time and WWE characters which inspire me. And as you could already see in the comics: Heath Slater is going to take more and more importance (he'll have his part in this one, but he'll be more present in other fics).

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That's all for now, I know that you must be biting your keyboard with rage as you know nothing more about Wade's whereabouts from what you already knew (not) in preview chapters. Be patient, Cena must make his own journey before facing the consequences of his actions. Good, or bad consequences? Stay tuned to this story to find out! ;)

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Almost 2am, I'm going to sleep now, I have an intense training tomorrow morning.

Good night you all! ;)

*hugs*

::Roselyne::