Realize

Home : Stories by Mick : Love in Losses : Realize

Summary: Carl deals with the backlash of causing the Big One at Talladega.

AUTHOR: Mick
EMAIL: mick@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG-13
SERIES: Love in Losses
CHARACTER: John Cena/Carl Edwards, alternating POV
COMPLETED: October 13, 2008
WORD COUNT: 2,014
DISCLAIMER: If I owned them I’d be too busy to write this stuff. Just fiction, folks. I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
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Charlotte, NC

It's been years since I've felt this deeply for anyone; so in love and content. The last time I felt this way seems like an eternity ago. I've never been so happy to just curl up on the couch and watch TV with someone's arms around me. It puts me at ease knowing that he's here and he's mine and he's not going to go away. This is it for us…we've found each other and now no one else in the world exists. Even in the middle of a crowd I can only see him and his eyes fall only on me. We're soulmates, two halves of the same coin. We're every disgustingly sappy metaphor out there. I don't know what I’d do without John in my life. It's just not the same without him here with me. I feel empty when we're not together; like there's a part of me missing that I desperately need back in order to survive. To be honest, it scares the crap out of me sometimes. I've fallen so hard and so deep that I don't know if I'll ever come up for air again. My heart and soul are in his big, strong hands to do whatever he wants with and all he has to do is get bored or find someone new and they'll be crushed, crumbled into sand. I don't know if I'd ever recover from such a fatal blow. I don't know that I'd want to go on living without him in my life. How pathetically high school drama is that? How pathetic am I that my life suddenly revolves around another human being like he's my sun? I could kick myself sometimes for acting this way. I'm turning into a woman and it's annoying as it is weird. I've never been like this before. Never put so much of myself into a relationship. I know it's love, but am I IN love?

“Carl? Carl you’re doing it again! Wake UP!” I roll over and jab my boyfriend--what a strange concept that is--in the ribs, urging him to wake up. This has been going on for at least three weeks now, him talking in his sleep. At first it was cute, but much like my snoring, it quickly became annoying. It might be hard for him to sleep when I’m sawing wood, but it’s impossible for me to sleep when he’s babbling on in soliloquies that would put Willy Shakespeare to shame. Even though he’s rambling about me, I don’t want to hear it when I’m trying to get some much-needed shut eye.

“CARL!” Elbow him this time, and he jolts awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed we’ve been sharing since I went on disability again. I can’t help feeling satisfied knowing he’s now as awake as I am, probably for good. If I can’t sleep, no one can.

“John what the hell? What’s the big idea, you big bully?!” He rubs his ribs where I hit him, pouting at me with all his might, “I was SLEEPING, you big jerk!”

“Yeah and I was forced to listen to you putter on and on about the intricate web of our relationship while you did! Dude take some drugs for that or something. It’s getting old!” I roll over so my back’s to him and tug the covers up to my chin. I love Carl to death, but the lack of sleep has turned me into a cranky old man.

“Why don’t you stick cotton in your ears and deal with the fact that I can’t help it?!” His point finger jabs me in the back with each word. Apparently he’s as grumpy as I am. Great, now we’ll have a sleep deprived argument and get even less sleep!

With a groan I roll back over and grab his hand before he can stab me in the eye, “Carl, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have elbowed you. Seriously, though, can’t you do something about the talking? It’s getting old, man. I’m never gonna get better if I can’t sleep at night.”

“Whatever,” he sighs and lays back down, curling up on his side with some distance between us. Apparently, he’s really upset with me.

When I wake up in the morning, there’s a throbbing in my ribs and it takes me a few minutes to remember why. I’d been talking in my sleep again, according to John, and elbowing me was the only way to wake me up. Talk about a rude awakening. I thought for sure I’d been shot in my sleep. Roll onto my side and smile softly when I see him already awake, stretched on his back with his hands tucked under his head while he stares out the sunroof. I scoot over and rest my head on his chest, slipping an arm around his massive waist.

“Morning sunshine…” his eyes never leave the clear blue sky as one of his arms comes down around me, fingers tracing light circles on my bicep. He looks deep in thought and I don’t want to disturb him anymore than I already have so I kiss his chest in response, curling up tighter against him. The steady rhythm of his heart beating, the soothing rise and fall of his chest, the gentle circles his fingers trace on my skin; they all lull me into a feeling of peace. I’ve never been so content in my life.

“I’m starting to think you have no inner monologue,” there’s laughter in his voice and I blink, looking up at him. He pulls his gaze from the window and meets my obviously confused eyed, “You were talking out loud again, Sparky.”

I blink in confusion, “No I wasn’t! I didn’t say a word!” Surely I’d have heard myself talking, wouldn’t i? I’d like to think I would…

“Did it again,” he’s laughing now, looking at me with amusement in his bright blue eyes, “We really need to fix your brain, Carl.”

I blush and bury my face in his chest, “I can’t help it. I don’t even realize I’m doing it! God, this is SO embarrassing!”

He chuckles and rubs my arm, “I won’t hold it against you, Sparky. So when do you have to be at the track today? Soon, right?”

I frown, cringing at the idea of leaving the warm safety of John’s embrace. Especially after the horror of last weekend in Talladega. It’s been made painfully clear that several people are pissed at me for the Big One. I don’t blame them, but it sucks all the same. It’s not a nice feeling having your mistakes shoved in your face over and over. I wonder if Kevin got the note I left on his jet…not my smartest idea, but I was pretty pissed that night. I’ll have to talk to him during practice today…

While Carl showers, I slide out of bed and pad my way into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I can tell he’s not thrilled to be going to the track, but you have to put the past behind you and keep moving. I move through the kitchen with practiced ease, pulling out everything necessary to make waffles and eggs. The past few weeks have lulled us into a strange sense of domestic partnership. Carl cleans and does laundry, I cook and wash dishes. It’s a cool little system we’ve got going. I’ve been here so long some of my stuff’s moved in as well; clothes, shaving kit, toothbrush. My cars and stuff are still in Florida, but if things keep up like they are, Carl may need a bigger garage.

“What’s cooking, sexy?” Smile softly as Carl’s arms slide around my waist, his lips brushing along my shoulders. I lean against him a little, not taking my eyes off the over easy eggs frying on the stove while he rubs my sides. This has all become so comfortable; it seems weird to imagine not having it.

“Waffles and eggs, Mr. Edwards. Now go sit, you’re hindering my process,” I chuckle as he huffs at me and throws himself down in his usual chair, “Hey I could let these eggs burn, if that’s what you want…”

He grumbles a response and I fight to keep a frown off my face. Ever since last weekend, he’s been dreading today. His teammates haven’t stopped giving him hell and I’m sure the others are no different. “It’ll be fine, Carl…” I set a plate of steaming hot waffles and eggs in front of him, along with a syrup and a glass of OJ before joining him with an identical plate of my own. He gives me a grateful smile, but says nothing, just digs into his food. I watch him as I eat, easily reading the worried crease in his forehead and tension in his posture. Today’s going to be rough on him.

“Kevin, hey man. Can I talk to you?” I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with Harvick all day so we can discuss Talladega, but it’s been crazy. When rain finally cancelled track activity, I made the two stall walk to where he was hanging out with his Nationwide team. He gives me a suspicious look before sliding his shades off, asking me what I want. Not quite the reception I was hoping for, but I go into a rehearsed apology about the wreck. I can feel him rolling his eyes at me behind the shades he’s put back on, but before I can say anything about it, he turns and starts to walk away.

“Kevin! Hey, wait a minute!” Put my hand on his shoulder to stop him and, fast as lightning, he pivots on his heel and shoves me HARD. Caught off guard, I stumble back and before I can right myself he’s on me again, sending me flying back onto the hood of his Nationwide car. I can feel the metal give way under me, the momentum of my fall giving me enough force to leave a huge dent in the hood.

Something inside me snaps and I shove myself up, flying at him in full-blown fight mode. I can hear people shouting around us, can hear the commotion stirring in the garage as I go to choke him out, but it’s all muffled by my blood pounding in my ears. Go to dive at him again, but he’s being restrained by some crew members and I’m suddenly unable to move. It takes me a second to realize there are arms around my neck; someone’s got me in a headlock. This is ridiculous. All I wanted to do was apologize. Silently count to ten and let whoever’s holding me know I’m okay. The arms let me go and I straighten up, surprised to see it was Kevin’s driver holding me back. Without a word, I walk back to my garage stall, rubbing a now throbbing elbow. So much for taking the high road.

I can’t believe it when Carl comes home covered in bruises. My first thought is that he wrecked hard in the Nationwide race or something, but he would have called me if he had. No, something had to have happened out of the car. It takes me nearly half an hour to get it out of him, and when he finally explains, a strange protective feeling comes over me. Carl is more than capable of taking care of himself, but part of me doesn’t like the idea of someone pushing him around. I seethe in anger as I pack for Australia. I have to co-host the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards, but leaving him right now is less than appealing.

I never realized just how much I cared for this man until now. That might be the biggest revelation of my life. I stop midway through cramming a shirt in my bag and look over at Carl, where he’s curled up on the bed watching me. Our eyes meet and I don’t even have to say a word. He already knows exactly how I feel.

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Mick - mick@cryptoffic.com