codyrhodesfan

Title: Forever
Rated: +18 – language; themes
Summary: Finn has been missing since football practice. Kurt receives an envelope one night, with a naked picture of Finn and a note that says 'pay me what he's worth'. Kurt/Finn SLASH.
Genre: Tragedy

---

"That shade of blue is completely wrong!"

Kurt moved in to see the shade of blue that Finn had applied on the wall – cobalt blue when he had asked for Columbia blue. They were shades apart. Finn had moved slightly, daring not to laugh at the anger that resided onto Kurt's face. Kurt pulled up one of the containers onto the floor and pointed towards the colour. "This is Columbia blue! Cobalt will just greatly constant with the beige of this room."

Finn rolled his eyes, smiling to himself. This was kind of fun and Kurt's bitchiness was kind of cute. Finn had been having a good day. He woke up on his own, with the sunshine still fluttering against his face at 11PM, and their parents weren't home as they went to pick up some supplies they needed for the BBQ they were going to have that evening. Kurt had given him an amazing breakfast mix of eggs, sausage and bacon. He never knew Kurt knew how to cook like that yet it did go with his personality.

Kurt was redecorating the room as he found a sudden aspiration of art for some reason and everything seemed to not go in with the flow. He'd gotten dozens of canvases and was working on a piece as Finn had seen. The piece wasn't quite done as Kurt had only painted the background coating about twice but Kurt had insisted they needed another coating to even it all out.

Kurt had said this will also help his attributes to Glee as art would make him stretch his mind to wonders. Finn realised how desperate Kurt was for expression right then. Even being in the Cheerios wasn't enough to make Kurt feel like he was wanted and seen in the spotlight, but he could be the artist in the bedroom that wasn't entirely his. Finn and Kurt gave up after an hour as they reapplied its original coating on the area that Finn had painted. Then Finn was staring at the incomplete canvas as Kurt touched it. The coat wasn't too textured and was smooth, yet Kurt could still tell it wasn't even and that ticked him off greatly.

His eyes went back to Finn whom was moving towards it, and accidentally hitting the dresser. "Watch it! My Swarovksi figurines!"

"How much do those cost? Looks like glass."

Kurt rolled his eyes. "The swan figurines cost me about $300, the Alina figure cost $275, foals about $380, the rose $225, the rabbit only about $80 and the stallion for...about $400."

"For glass?"

Kurt looked taken back for a moment. "...my Mother loved the figurines. When I was a little kid, she used to move towards the store and say to me that he'd wish my Father would her her just one. Then I asked her why. She said they almost looked magical. Like...they reminded her of Cinderella's glass slipper. They made her believe in dreaming again because they were so pretty and elegant. She said she wanted to make an entire world made out of glass with these figurines, that she wanted to make this wonderful little glass land so she can escape and everything would be okay and she promised she'd take me with her...I guess...I thought that if I bought the figurines, it would just mean...that promise was still there...that she'll take me with her. I like imagining that she's there, somewhere trapped inside the see-through glass..."

Finn was speechless. "I get it. You saved up most of your money for this?"

"Yeah. My Father wouldn't get me them so I have to save up money to get the sets. I've saved up money for most of my life for them and here they are and I still feel her presence around me this way. It made me feel safe, you know?"

He was silent as he looked back at the coating of paint.

He finally went back to work on his painting and Finn stared. The background was coated once last final time in what took Finn only minutes to do. The background coating was an individualized shade of purple. Kurt moved towards him and then pointed towards him, causing little droplets of mulberry purple met with Finn's pale skin. Kurt burst into laughter. Finn was removing splatters of purple with the palm of his hand which did nothing but make the mess stain both his cheek and his hand. "Come on. You can look at yourself in the mirror and wash up. I'll make some sandwiches."

Finn nodded his head. "Yeah, sure."

"To be honest, Finn," Kurt finally began, "mulberry is a gorgeous shade on you."

Finn felt himself flush at Kurt's comment before laughing awkwardly. Kurt noticed the awkwardness as he allowed Finn to move towards the bathroom. He wasn't as hurt as he thought he would as he looked back at the blank mulberry-purple canvas of his. What he wanted to reconstruct collapsed and something entirely different formed in his head, something prettier and more original.

He went downstairs and then chuckled seeing the mulberry jam staring right at him. Just as he was spreading some on the bread, Finn walked in and noticed. "Isn't that the same shade that you coated my face in?"

"Yes," Kurt hummed. "See! You're getting better at telling which shade is which because of me. That hit on the face was beneficial—"

Before Kurt could finish his sentence, Finn had grabbed onto a bit of the mulberry with his fingers and then hit Kurt with his nose. "Hey! I don't do this moisturizing routine just for you to ruin my face! Take it off. Now."

Finn didn't regret it one bit.

He moved towards Kurt and then slowly brushed his finger against Kurt's nose where the jam was. Kurt nearly stopped breathing at the feel of his finger brushing so softly against his. They made strong eye contact for a while. Kurt could feel every breath of Finn against him. He broke the eye contact, feeling his heart beat faster afterwards, finally paying attention to his sweaty palms as he spread the jam against the toast. He cleared his throat. "Mind getting the peanut butter? The reduced fat one, not the other one."

Everything was awkward again.

"Gotcha." He got the can of peanut butter and Kurt made a thin spread of peanut butter against the other slice of toast.

"Dad says that he thinks there's a huge difference between the taste of reduced fat peanut butter and the normal one. He gets both just to shut me up." Kurt had made two good sandwiches and then gave one to Finn, watching him bite into it. "I mean, there isn't a difference at all—"

"Yeah, totally. Just that that one's tastier and much better."

"Finn." Kurt glared at him.

"...did I say something wrong?"

"You're an idiot." Kurt said, jokingly. Finn wasn't the brightest, but that didn't matter. He was Finn. He had his beautiful hair and that glint in his eyes that made every star in the sky envies his existence. He made everything seem a little less ugly around him. He had a smile that made the entire word stop to stare at it for a little while.

Kurt would never tell him that that was why he started off at thinking of art. Finn had this unmistakable, uncatchable beauty and if Kurt could just hold that beauty for a moment, pause, and then recreate something that just had to have a glimmer of that beauty – then that would be the best thing in the world, then he could say that he did something good in his life. They thought he had Glee to leave that mark, but no, this would be much more permanent, much more challenging and much more beautiful. It would be like taking all the songs he'd ever listened to in his life, mold them into colours, and then allow them to glitter with the soft faint touch of Finn on Kurt's bleeding, aching heart.

-------

Kurt had told Finn that he was going to go back to painting soon, the pretty little Columbia blue walls that he wanted to give him that calm atmosphere he hoped to create. But then, Mercedes called Kurt and told him that there was a huge 75% sale and Kurt was gone like the wind, disappearing as fast as lightning. Later on, when he'd gotten home, he realised he had a lot of work to do. He walked inside of the house, flashed a grin at both Carole and Burt, before walking upstairs to work on colouring the walls of the room.

He felt happy and giddy with the glossy bags into his hand. He felt like he made amazing purchases and he couldn't wait to wear a certain adorable cozy-looking sweater. He finally opened the doorway, and stared at the walls. They were already painted a fresh coat of Columbia blue. He saw Finn onto the bed, shades of blue paint splattered against his shirt, eyes half-open as he was tired. Kurt felt weak in the knees, and the bags in his hands suddenly felt heavy. He allowed them to fall, and a smile gleamed across his face.

To Finn, that was the most beautiful thing that Kurt could ever create.

Finn wasn't sure if the feelings were brotherly or if they were something else but he'd never had a brother so he allowed the warm feelings to tackle him on without a problem. "You did a splendid job with this," Kurt finally said breathlessly. He leaned down to pick one of the chocolate-brown bags and produced a pullover. "I got you this. I wasn't sure of your size so I got you a Large. It looks really good too."

Finn looked at it. "I can't put my finger on it but it looks..."

Finn stopped for a moment. "It's that jam purple, isn't it?"

"Yes," Kurt replied with a grin on his face. "You're getting better at this, Hudson."

Finn flashed him back another smile.

For some reason, the calm blue seemed to be vibrant and in life, the glow on Kurt's face made him feel amazing and enlightened. This day ended on a perfect note and he finally allowed himself to stumble onto his bed, saying a 'goodnight' to Finn. When he rolled over, he realised that Finn was already fast asleep. He smiled softly to himself, and closed his eyes – allowing sweet dreams of mulberry purple, cobalt and Columbia blue to overtake his dreams. Blue and purple – the combination of fluffy clouds...and fairytale sparkles, and dreams and Cinderella's glass slippers.

In the middle of the night, Kurt had woken up. He went downstairs and make peanut butter and mulberry jam sandwiches and laughed with himself as if he was having a conversation and the taste was so exotic and dream-like, he felt like he was a fairy in the air and then just as he was about to go to sleep, he found Finn's phone onto the floor. He picked it up and opened it, staring at the notes part of the page. He raced through Finn's shocking collection of quotes before he stopped, eyes widening at one of them which was perfect and the image in his mind had a final colour. He went upstairs and with a brush of his hand – he painted, he painted with the ink of his soul and every brush and every stroke and every little splatter of paint on his clothing – the piece was complete in what five hours was but what he felt like half an hour. He finally realised he was standing for too long before he put the painting at the edge of the room, allowing it to dry and then collapsed in his bed, happy that tomorrow there was no school or he would've been extremely exhausted.

-------------
"Okay, promise me you'll pick me up after football practice," Kurt had told him at Glee.

Now it was three hours later, Mercedes, Tina and him were watching the movie they wanted and Tina got their opinion on that dress that she thought was pretty and Kurt had to admit – it didn't look that good but when he'd seen it on her, it was a must-have. The olive green colour complimented her skin so well that he thought it would be an insult to not encourage her to buy it. "Want a ride, Kurt?" Tina asked.

"Nah, told Finn to pick me up. He should be here soon. I texted him."

Tina had gone off, leaving Kurt alone in a coffee shop that made him feel calm and relaxed in. The aroma of coffee and cinnamon was an astonishing mix and though Kurt wasn't much of a coffee-drinker, just being in a café made him feel like he was in some other far away exotic place for some reason. He finally picked up his phone and called Finn. No answer. He just waited and waited until he felt like he was dead waiting there. He finally looked back at his cell, and called his Father who picked him up in ten minutes as opposed to the three hours that Kurt spent inhaling coffee fumes and looking at vanilla frappes.

"You look really tired," Burt began the conversation.

"Yeah, Finn was supposed to pick me up hours ago. I was alone in a coffee shop. They've got this new cinnamon drink and it smells good. I didn't have much money left on me though so I just sat there smelling it for a good three hours. It hurt my head."

"Three hours? He left you waiting for three hours?"

"Yeah...I guess," Kurt felt hurt at the realization of this. Burt would have to have a talk with Finn later on. But what Kurt and Burt wouldn't know that there wasn't 'later on' wasn't the equivalent of soon. First, he was met with Finn's cell phone on the table. Carole had explained that he came back home, then left off when he got a phone call, saying that he'd be back later since he had to pick up Kurt.

"What happened to picking me up then?" Kurt hated to think that the person that had called Finn was more important to Finn than his own brother. Even if they weren't blood-bound, they were still living with each other. Did that mean nothing to Finn? Should it mean anything to Kurt? They waited for him but when dinner came, Finn wasn't back yet. Kurt ate his tasteless mashed potatoes in silence, no amount of salt made it edible, and the butter made him feel slightly sick. He poked his peas and played with his meat before he actually ate his food.

He walked upstairs later and collapsed. That morning, when Finn wasn't around, he panicked. Carole and Burt were worried. Finn couldn't hide how worrisome he was as well. The blue paint was a constant reminder, making him anxious every time he walked into the room, which was ironic because he painted it to remain calm and serene.

He found an organizer that Rachael had given Finn so that he knew what to practice and when but Finn had used it for much more than so. On the day he disappeared, he simply wrote 'pick up Kurt from mall' and 'make sure Puck gets borrowed DVD back'.

He hadn't looked at his piece since that night. He feared if he looked at his painting now, he would sob and break down into tears. He tried to keep himself calm and reassured. Finn would be back, wouldn't he? Kurt felt his lips quiver and tremble. Lies. Promises broken. Lies. He wouldn't be back, would he? He just felt his heartache drag on endlessly. He thought it was just a crush but apparently, it was something more.

He kept on hearing "are you okay?" from everyone in Glee.

He had been showing Tina, Mercedes, Quinn, Rachael, Brittney and Santana his ideas for the next Glee rehearsal's costumes. He stopped for a minute when he felt something warm and familiar touch his hand and he pulled it out to realise it was the mulberry purple pull-over that Kurt had bought for him. And that was it. He broke down. Got down to his knees and tears ran down his eyes as he brought the thing close to him and this was the closest he'd ever been to Finn in what felt like so long – the smell of the pullover took over Finn's personal scent and cologne. He felt so alone and desperate. The girls collected towards him, wrapping their arms around him, trying to make him stop feeling so tiny but that didn't help. It only made him feel claustrophobic. He wanted to feel Finn's large arms around him instead of their small and delicate ones.

Then he stood up, holding the pullover towards his chest. "I just think it needs a wash." He said, laughing at his own stupidity. They knew that it was Finn's; just from the minute he started crying.

That night, he'd taken it upstairs into the laundry machine and was just about to dunk it but felt like he was giving a part of Finn away, erasing him forever. He finally decided against it and instead, had worn the sweater himself. He looked like he was wearing a dress. He never felt less unfashionable in his life as he curled up towards his bed, smelling the unique scent of Finn, and curling up to it, wanting it to never go away. He slept thinking that Finn would be back soon. He slept on hope.

That morning, the scent faded away – crushing the little hope that Kurt had acquired that morning. All he knew was...

Breakfast probably wouldn't be a mulberry jam and peanut butter sandwich.

That night made him feel extra uncomfortable when he'd walked into the kitchen and seen the bottle of mulberry jam open and in front of him. It took him all the courage not to cry and scream a huge FUCK YOU to the world and he wouldn't really care if his parents were home or not. He picked up the jar with trembling hands and shut it tightly. He felt like he'd accomplished something big, something extraordinary. He could let go, couldn't he? But just as he was moving to put the jam in the fridge, he noticed his foot stuck to something. He looked down and saw little paws of mulberry jam onto the floor.

There was a trail of them in fact. He moved towards the trail which lead to the mailbox. He felt confused for a moment, but then noticed the cream-coloured envelope inside. He reached in slowly with a trembling hand and took it out, staring at it for what felt like hours. He kicked off his shoes and went upstairs. Ran and shut the door towards the bathroom. He slid down the bathroom floor, unable to look at the blue-coloured nightmare that was his room as he tore the envelope.

A photograph fell.

Kurt took it and then bit back an ear-shattering scream. There was not just a picture of Finn but he was naked. Finn was inside the water. His body floating and his face only sticking out from below the water. He looked tormented. His forehead had three deep little red cuts. He looked half-awake, trying not to sleep and drown himself. Struggling to breathe, looking aloof and lost, and begging for mercy with those liquid brown eyes.

Then a note that stated only a few words that made Kurt's heart start beating faster than usual 'pay me what he's worth.'

------

'Pay me what he's worth.'

Kurt hated to be the cliche but Finn was priceless. He'd give Finn everything he had and as much as he could and right now, all he had were a few solid coins from his piggy bank, a leftover $30 from all that shopping and a fast, beating heart. He could as well rip out his heart and give it to the man and it wouldn't have been enough. He thought of all of the things that Finn would be feeling right now, the pain, the suffocation, underwater - trying to breathe before getting surrounded by water again and choking. He felt shaky. Kurt did the only thing he knew how to, he put the $30 bill, tears running down his eyes as he shoved it back to the mailbox, sobbing softly. He had nothing else to give. Then he stopped for a minute. He did have something to give. He wrote a note asking for location first and put it in the envelope. Later at that night, the address was written in a smudgy blue ball pen.

Kurt knew he was stupid for going alone but he didn't want to take anyone with him. He shuffled through towards the dark, murky hallways and then stopped to see hazel eyes staring back. "What do you got for me, kid?"

"Show me Finn first," Kurt demanded.

The man chuckled and told Kurt to follow him. He was led towards another hall that made Kurt's stomach churn. It was so disgusting and messy around here and everything looked and smelled of grease. His eyes were wide in shock when he noticed Finn's silhouette. The naked Finn had cried himself to sleep. He looked exhausted and the marks on his skin made Kurt's stomach churn. There were various burns on his body and blood between his knees that made Kurt's stomach lurch even more greatly. The little cuts onto his face and neck were small but deep. Brown eyes were shut away from the world. His wrists were bloodied but that was probably because he was trying so hard to get out of the cuffs. It suggested that Finn was fighting back at some point.

"Finn!" Kurt bellowed. "Oh my God...you sick bastard!"

"Give me the box, cookie, and we'll let him go."

Kurt's shoulders were shaking. "Why him?"

"He looked pretty," the man offered. "In that purple pullover of his. He made sure he took that off before he came with us. He wore some old sweater and came back down to us. We threatened raping you and he just went insane and said that 'please, let me take his place' and he wanted to text you something too but Jay here kicked him over the head. He's out of his mind. You're his weak spot. It was fun for a while and he's a fighter too but that's what makes raping him so fun, cookie. Seeing him cringe and cry and oh, making him drown, swimming for his life. It was loads of laughter."

Kurt felt his face flush in red from the rage but he wouldn't hit the man. He would just cause them to hit him back and he'd get into this mess again.

"We're relocating so don't bother calling the police or Finny-boy here gets it. Ain't that right, Finn?" Finn showed no sign of movement. Kurt thought he was unconscious.

"We got him to take so much heroin it nearly made him go insane. Isn't that fun? He was so worried about leaving you in the mall that raping him was just an added bonus. He tried to struggle out but couldn't."

Kurt knew he was just making him feel guilty but he could see it all happening before his eyes. He wasn't lying. He was making him feel guilty with the truth of Finn's actions. Kurt had finally given the man the box as tears collecting down his eyes. Finn was starting to stir now and he moaned softly as he felt the other man, which Kurt presumed was Jay, hit him on the shoulder, causing Finn to flinch and groan out in pain.

"Please," Finn said, with shut eyes.

"Your boyfriend is here for you, Finny doll. Cookie here wants to bargain for your release."

Finn's tortured brown eyes met with Kurt's guilt-ridden blue ones. Finn let out a shocked gasp as he tried to regulate his breathing. Kurt gave the man the box, and Kurt suspected him to go on his word but the shackles were removed. "This is what cookie here thinks you're worth, Finny doll," the man said, opening the box. Finn's eyes were full of tears.

"Kurt...your figurines...you...can't!"

Kurt looked down at his feet.

"Those things are damn expensive, aren't they?"

Kurt's eyes were full of tears. "Don't hurt him. Just let him go."

"Jay, escort cookie and Finny doll here out the door."

Finn was speechless as Kurt and him were escorted out towards the doorway by Jay's hands. He wore fingerless gloves and smelled of beer and nicotine. Finn seemed to be in full shock and Kurt wasn't taking it well either. The minute they smelled fresh air seemed to be a miracle. When Jay let go of Finn's form, it seemed impossible for Finn to stand up and Kurt made him hold him as support. Kurt slowly helped Finn get into his car. The first trip they took was to the hospital, where Finn was bandaged up and then stabilized. Kurt could only watch as Finn's face went from tired to completely exhausted but he refused to sleep on that hospital bed. It took him a good two hours to get all the blood-tests running and they told him they'll tell him his results soon. He looked so pale sitting there, and he didn't look like he was fed properly - that or he'd been throwing up a lot of his foods. After they left the hospital and got into the car again, that was when Kurt broke down the second time - crying into his chest, whimpering with tears running down his face. "You look so hurt...I can't stop it...it kills..." Kurt whispered.

"Kurt," Finn said. "You didn't have to give them those figurines."

"They told me to pay them what your worth..." Kurt's voice was soft. "And you're worth so much more than you think, Finn Hudson. You're worth the world to me. My little glass imaginary world. She wants me to be happy and she's in every happy note I sing. She's here right now and I don't want to let go anymore. I can't lose you, Finn...you don't understand...I won't be able to handle it if you were gone. I can't...I won't...I...I..."

Kurt hiccuped back a sob. "I'm crying. These tears. For you..."

Kurt wrapped his arms around Finn's shoulders, burying his head into his neck. Finn did nothing but embrace him as well. Their bodies felt warm against each other, like a silent comfort. "Take the pain away, Kurt...please take the pain away..."

------
Explaining to them would be hard.

The minute they entered the household, Carole nearly broke the dishes she'd been carrying and Burt was staring with shocked eyes. "I got a letter in the mail," Kurt explained, ready to tell the story. "They sent me a picture of Finn and...he was naked...and...then they told me that I should pay them what he's worth to me. Then I asked them for an address so they gave it to me...and I went t-there and they were cooperative for some reason...and then I saw him...like this, and they raped him and it's so wrong...but...but he's here now. We're out of there. Oh thank God, I don't have to look at that disgusting, greasy place again...it...it smells like bad memories, Daddy." He said the last bit with a wobbly voice.

"They hurt me so bad," Finn's voice was strong. "I...I'm here now. I'm going to be okay though. Aren't I?"

They were like two children pleading for their parents to tell them they'd be fine.

Carole stared at them.

"Boy! You could've gotten killed! What didn't you tell me?" Burt asked then his gaze softened. "Kurt, what did you give them?"

Kurt curled his tongue in his lips. "M-my...figurines..."

"But Kurt, you love those!"

"I love my brother, Finn, more," Kurt replied, his voice cracked and Finn felt guilty again for letting him give away those crystal objects that meant the world to Finn. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done...we're here now and the past is behind us. Isn't it?"

Finn didn't reply.

----------

Weeks have passed by since the accident. Kurt had gotten up early one morning and decided to go make himself some coffee before finally showing Finn his masterpiece. He finally looked at it after so long and it was beautiful. It was still beautiful. He walked upstairs, full of eggs and toast. He was just drinking that cup of coffee when he'd heard something - sound of harsh breathing. His heart was accelerating as if he knew something bad was happening without even stopping by to see what. He put down the cup and then he ran towards the sound of the breathing.

"Finn...?"

Kurt walked towards him and then noticed the needle. "Did you...no, no, Finn...you can't be a drug addict...you can't have overdosed o-on heroin...n-n-no...Finn...Finn..."

Finn stared back at him with begging eyes. "I-I-I...they...got me...hooked...and..." Finn tried to take a deep breath. "I know it's not cool but...but..."Kurt wrapped his arms around Finn, desperate not to let go. Somehow it was like him trying to gather around disappearing little butterflies.

"I...it...takes the pain away...it takes the pain away..." he repeated softly.

"Finn...Finn...! You-I-I-I love...I love..."

Finn's eyes shut tightly. He was still trying to hold on to his breathing. Then the needle fell and his breathing stopped. Kurt felt as if his stopped as well at that same exact point. "N-n-no-no..." Kurt was stuttering, staring back down at Finn's body. He can't be dead. He just can't. He was too young and too scarred and he-he-he-he-

He was Finn. He can't die. He just can't.

Kurt kissed Finn's cheek. "I-I-I...love y-you.."

He finally kissed his lips softly. The kiss was cold and dead and unresponsive. Kurt could taste the faint taste of mulberry jam on Finn's lips. Tears collecting in his eyes and small little sad laughs escaped his lips. "This is so fucking wrong...it...no...n-n-no...Finn...F-Finn..."

He scattered Finn's clothing off him, the skin felt like cold art to the skin - he could feel every single emotion as a bitter taste into his mouth. Kurt was breathing heavily. He moved towards his piece of artwork, the one he worked so hard on, and tore it to shreds with razors and strong emotions. He allowed every piece of the beauty he'd created to be destroyed. His eyes staring down at Finn's exposed upper half. Kurt was breathing heavily. Art was lost. Music was lost. He was lost. There was just a dead mass of Kurt's body.

Kurt had turned to stare at Finn's bed and he only noticed one thing - on the top of the bed, he'd found a little canvas that Finn had created, scribbles of mulberry jam - bury me in that sweater you got me so I can have a piece of you with me forever. I don't want to die alone. I'm taking a part of you with me. And the other part's with your Mother... I love you too.

__

Trailer

__

 

Save all your prayers

I think we lost today

There’s no morning after

No one’s around to blame
I can’t pray for him because even God can’t help him now…I don’t think anyone can.

“How is he?” she asked, staring in concern at her sick son as he slept silently. The first silent sleep in months and all she could remember was him struggling to get to sleep and tossing around in his bed, twitching and shaking, and she tried to force the image out of her head.

“I gave him the shot but I’m not sure if this one might work. Has he had another psychotic episode?”

“Yeah. He brought the knife to Becky’s neck and threatened to kill her.”

Silence engulfed through the room as she ran her hand through her hair and she bit down her always been chewed on and bitten raw lower lip. “From what you know about Randy’s…condition…does he enjoy this?”

“The psychotic episodes?”

She nodded her head, her pressed lips turning into a weak, sad smile that matched her eyes and face.

“We make it so he doesn’t remember the episodes so we don’t know for sure. We’re convinced that this will be better for him.”

“What if it isn’t?!”

“…we’ll just have to wait and see.”

She saw as Randy’s shoulder twitched in his sleep and his body tensed and creased lines formed across his face from frustration but after a while, his face relaxed and his body glowed pale in the darkness of the scientist’s room…

I’m not afraid to bleed

But I won’t do it for you

A star among hypocrites

The melody of our time

Silent eyes, sad smiles, bleeding hearts, lifeless

No words come out of his mouth.

Confusion.

He stood there, trying to piece together what Randy had just told him and most people would’ve told him not to mess with Randy Orton but he won’t let this slip by as he ran towards Randy’s body, taking the smooth collar of his deeply dark green t-shirt and pushing him to the wall, letting his head hit the wall and he heard Randy’s harsh sneer as Randy’s eyes turned into dark solid eyes as he punched John’s chest and both of their hands went to the other’s shoulders, Randy pressing John towards the lockers, as John’s heart started to bleed, staring into Randy’s face.

“Leave me alone.” John suddenly said, tired of the fighting. “Get off me, Randy!”

“No! I won’t!”

“You faggot!”

“Watch your mouth, Cena.”

The nineteen year old boy pushed the sixteen year old Randy Orton away from him.

“You’ll pay,” Randy sneered darkly, his blue eyes stirring with ice, freezing ice. His eyes burning softly with desire, and lust as he stared at John Cena and John’s eyes were open, completely and utterly wide, at what Randy might’ve meant…

So say goodbye to the world

We are the dead that walk the earth
mornings are meant to start a day

No sound of his parents’ screaming.

No feel of the warm sunshine on his skin.

Nothing.

Eyes slowly opened to see the blackness of the room he was trapped in.

Slowly, soft baby blue eyes peered to look at solid cold blue eyes as fear erupted through John’s body.

“O-Orton?”

“I told you I’d make you pay…”

Scream your lungs out

Wait for laughter

You don’t have to wait for ever

Here’s the next disaster!

There’s no day…just an end to life as we know it.

A sound of laughter.

Randy’s hand covered John’s mouth to shuffle his screams as Randy’s hand went to a razor on the bathroom floor, and he felt John move from underneath him as Randy put the razor towards John’s shoulder, letting it glide down, the blood slowly seeping from his shoulder painfully…

“Why…?”

Randy bit down at his own lip as he felt John trying to move from underneath him but unable to. Completely unable to.

“Leave me alone.”

Randy’s hand moved towards John’s neck, wrapping his arm around his throat, restricting oxygen.

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, Cena…”

Another whip of the blade.

A scream.

Randy didn’t really care as he let John drop to the ground, shaking and shivering, watching the blood pour from his pores.

What decides when you’ve lost a war

When the first man falls

Or when they’ve erased it all

I don’t remember my childhood; I don’t remember yesterday…I don’t have a life…

“How’s my son?”

“Our patient?”

“Yes, yes. Your patient.”

“We don’t want John to remember the torturing—just like we don’t want Randy to remember this certain psychotic episode so we’re erasing both their memories.”

“What will they remember?”

“Nothing…”

We’re to numb to feel

The downfall starts right here

Hold your breath and swim

Swallowed by life’s tear

I can’t feel anything anymore…

A thirty two year old John Cena stared at a twenty nine year old Randy Orton as Randy made his way to the ring for another taping of the next RAW and all that John can do was stare…

What was pushing him away from Randy?

Better yet, why did he feel so very afraid when he looked at Randy?

He gave a simple smile. A fake smile.

He knew that when he went to his house, he can crawl under his bed and cry himself to sleep.

In times of make believe,

No one really seems to care

Maybe I should care less

Cause I will die too

I have to die…I don’t deserve to live.

Randy’s lips traced down Cody’s as Cody’s breath fell from his mouth as Randy hugged him, pressing their bodies together and in the middle of it, Randy felt a bang of guilt. As if he was cheating on someone…but who? He wasn’t with anyone for what felt like forever. He felt Cody’s breath on his ear—he couldn’t feel anything but the numbness as he moved away from Cody’s grasp.

“No,” he said bluntly.

“But—“

“Cody, stop! You know I can’t do anything with you.”

“But I thought you loved me…”

The softness of his voice made Randy twist his head to see Cody’s pale face and soft turquoise eyes and chapped pink lips.

So say goodbye to the world

We are the dead that walk the earth

Let’s say goodbye to this world.

Nineteen year old John took the razor from the table, the dull razor, the blood—he didn’t know why he had this urge for it. As he let the razor fell through his wrist and it felt so good…felt so good to release the nerves that had been raking through his body…felt so damn good.

He hit his head on the wall, knowing the feeling, so very familiar…

Seeing the blood…

And his heart was exploding his chest, leaning down onto the floor, feeling the wet floor from underneath him, as he let the razor fall from his hand, the blood ran from his wrist, oh so horribly…

Yet he was addicted.

So very addicted.

Scream your lungs out

Wait for laughter

You don’t have to wait for ever

Here’s the next disaster!

I can’t scream. I can’t laugh. My lips are sewed.

Just horrible.

The thirty two year old was moving through the sheets, horrible vivid visions in his head as his head pounded as his eyes slowly opened, sucking in and out, knowing that all those years, his parents had been keeping through this damn secret for years now and now that he knew, he wasn’t sure if he loved Randy anymore. Or even liked him. Anger boiled in his flesh. This was why he was so messed up? This was why he was ruptured so badly?

What will it take for us to realize

The more we provoke,

Winter will come TWICE

It’s like summer will never begin.

Little snowflakes fell from the sky, melted on Randy’s nose as he had gone through what had happened in his head.

He tried to touch John and John flinched as if he was going to hurt him.

Randy’s eyes were burning with horror. He hated himself. He’d kill anyone in a moment. His parents hated him. John’s parents hated him. Why can’t anyone like him? His lip quivered and shook as he ran his hand through his arm, sucking a deep breath.

Save all your prayers

I think we lost today

There’s no morning after

No one’s around to blame

We’re all lost in our own blood.

Randy took John in his arms and he tried to ignore that John was shaking in his arms, John’s eyes were squinting into the darkness of their room as his acid sloshed through his stomach and he can’t really breathe at all as Randy ran his hand through his John’s short hair.

“John, please…”

“Half of my life was screwed because of you. I couldn’t finish high school because of you.”

“It’s not my fault that you repeated the tenth grade three times.”

“I want my life back…”

Scream your lungs out

Wait for laughter

You don’t have to wait for ever

Here’s the next disaster!

Laughter burns in the air of our darkness.

“I’m going back to high school, Randy. I’m going to finish college.”

Randy’s head twisted towards John who already had his luggage close to him, and eyes that were horrified of him.

“If that’s okay with you.”

“I don’t control you, Cena. You don’t have to act like I’m going to hurt you because I’m not!”

“I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

John gave a weak smile and nodded his head. “Everyone just wants to hurt me and I don’t want to be hurt anymore. I’m leaving the WWE.”

“Your life. Not mine.”

John was ready to walk away but Randy stopped him.

“Remember why you’re leaving. You’re leaving because of something that happened. You’re leaving because you don’t know how to move on. You’re weak, Cena.”

No words come out of John’s mouth as he strode away.

“Maybe I don’t know how to be strong…”

Scream your lungs out

Wait for laughter

You don’t have to wait for ever

Here’s the next disaster!

We’re waiting and we can’t wait any longer.

John Cena

“Why do you like controlling me? I’m not your bitch, Orton!”

I’m so cut open I’m choking on my own blood.

Randy Orton

“I’ve spent my entire life hearing that I’m a jerk. It won’t be any different coming from you, Cena.”

Sometimes, you just want to be normal…

I’m not.

Cody Rhodes

“Don’t you love me, Randy?”

I’m just so confused…

Ted DiBiase

“Cody’s like my brother, Randy. If you hurt him, God help you…”

I’d never think Randy…the boy I grew up with…would do anything like this…

There’s no way out.

Just a dead end.