Lost and Found

"S-Sir, I'm too sick to dance tonight." John said, pleading with his boss to let him out of dancing tonight. He was felt so sick, he shouldn't even be in work. But he could not afford to miss any work. His heater already broken and his hot water was shut off.

He needed every cent he could get to at least fix his furnace. He was sick enough and with no heat... well he could no longer afford health insurance so he couldn't go to the hospital.

Dave just looked at him. "Go to your apartment, grab your stuff, and get back here to dance. Your going on that stage tonight. I don't care if you have swine flu, your going to perform." He growled.

John sniffled and nodded. "Y-Yes sir." He murmured and grabbed his jacket. He rode the subway back to his apartment building, and hurried inside to grab his dancing cloths. But before he went up the stairs, he stood by the heater in the hall, trying to warm himself up a little as he was freezing.

He rubbed his shivering hands together, trying to get warm. He sniffled, his nose stuffed to the point where he could only breath through his mouth. He let out a breath, which could see before he slowly walked up the creaky stairs t his apartment door. His hands were almost frozen as he fumbled to get the key in the lock. He felt so sick, he could pass out right then and there.

It didn't take John long to find his room but before he opted to go inside, he decided to go up another floor. The stairs were just as creaky and he was sure he'd fall through if he wasn't careful. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't care because he could sue the building manager but hell, he knew he wouldn't be able to bring himself to sue such a old woman. From the sounds of it, the only thing she had to lose was this building, which he could just buy from her anyway but he had no intention of living in New York or Manhattan ever. He was a country boy through and through and preferred the quiet life of solitude.

He didn't go no higher than the third floor. It seemed like the higher up one went, the worse the stairs got. He poked around the halls, running his fingers along the dingy looking paint which easily peeled off. He looked up at the ceiling, most of the corners dark with mold. He shook his head. It was pretty sad. After poking around the hall a bit, he slowly went back down to the second floor. He fumbled around with his key a bit but he ended up pushing the door open without the key. The door seemed to be falling off the hinges which meant anybody who looked hard enough could tell the door would open without a key which wasn't safe at.

"This whole building should have a big fat condemned sign," he mumbled as he walked inside his room, leaving the door ajar. He was hit with the foul stench of God knows what ad mold that he could hardly shut the door. "Oh fuck..." he covered his nose as he proceeded to explore the room.

John finally got control of his shivering self and went into his apartment, hurrying to get all his dancing things together. He puked in his toilet for a couple minutes but he knew he still had to go back to work. Dave knew where he lived..

So John grabbed his stuff, locked his door though he know that somone could get in with a half hearted kick to the door. He sluggishly went downstairs and headed for the door. But at the door, he felt so sick and light headed.

He groaned and slid down the wall, sitting on the filthy ground. He was shivering, his teeth chattering. The thin coat he had on couldn't keep him warm. He cosed his eyes though a few tears excaped anyway.

Hell, he hoped he would pass out right here in the floor. Then he'd have an actual excuse not to work. 'Dave, I almost died on the main floor of my apartment bulding.' He thought. 'Nah, he'd still think that wasn't a good enough excuse.' He scoffed mentally. He sighed and pulled his knees to his chest. The only thing he wanted right now was to get warm.

John looked around the room though briefly as there wasn't much to see. Small restroom (the sink leaked to the point where the drip, drip, dripping was unbearable), the carpet smelled of mold, mold was on the ceiling from where at some point, the ceiling may have leaked, and it was freezing. Even in his sweater he could not help but feel the chill of the dank room. "This is ridiculous. And people actually pay to live here."

John shook his head and unable to stand much more he exited the apartment. He headed back out front where the front desk was located. He spotted the old woman behind the counter but she was sound asleep. He left the key on the desk then turned for the door. He paused for a moment, noticing John sitting on the floor by the exit. He frowned. Why the hell did he keep running into this kid? A part of him was starting to get annoyed because for one thing, he couldn't stand weaklings. However, unlike Dave, he'd never treat anyone that cruelly...at least not anymore.

"Hey kid? Why are you back here so early...and sitting on this dirty ass floor of all things?" John's eyes lingered on him a big more noting the small jacket. He shook his head mentally waiting on the kid's response.

John jumped slightly and looked up. "I-I... I have to dance to tonight. I need my stuff." He said, glancing at his bag. "And I'm sitting here because... I just... felt a little lightheaded and needed to sit." He said, coughing slightly a the end of his sentence.

John did not like being weak. He'd been through hell and back, and didn't want to show weakness. But this man seemed to keep popping in on his life when he was at his weakest. He sighed and slowly struggled to stand. He needed to get back tot he club as quickly as possible before Dave had a fit.

John raised his brows. "Son, in weather like this I strongly recommend you start haulin' your duffel bag to work. It's cost efficient and would save you the extra money you're dishin' out for a train or cab fare. I know it probably sucks having to stay two-three extra hours at work while ya wait to dance but hell, we all have to do shit we don't wanna to make it."

He makes like he's gonna take off his jacket but suddenly remembers he changed into civilian clothes. "Well come on son. Let's get you back to work. I suggest a doctor when ya get the chance. Pneumonia kills little fellas like you every year."

John nodded silently and followed Layfield. "I just... didn't think I'd be dancing tonight, is all." He murmured. "And my health insurance is... crappy." He muttered. coughing again. He really needed to invest in a bigger sweatshirt or something.

"And um... thank you. Again. I'm sorry you keep running into me." John said quietly, looking down. He knew this man didn't have to give him a ride and didn't have to act concerned. But he appreciated it. A lot.

John led them out of the dusty old building and to his car. The driver immediately got out, opening the door for them both. "It's no problem. If I'm around I'll give ya a ride. S'no big deal."

He climbed in the back behind John his mind on various things like calling a legit building inspector but mainly how not only John, but various others who probably had kids were living in a building that should have been condemned at the first sight of mold. John checked his watch. "How long ya got before Big Bad Dave's on your ass? I wanted to make a quick stop somewhere but if he's gonna give ya hell then I'll pass."

John thought for a moment. "I have about... 20 minutes before he'll get pissed." He sighed, sinking down in the seat. He hated living where he did. But he could not afford anything else. ANd he knew with him being as sick as he was, it would get worse staying in his apartment. But he didn't have anywhere to go.

He played with a strand of his hair, groaning inaudibly as a headache formed in his head. He was a sloppy, hot mess. He sighed. He'd just have to suck it up and dance tonight.

John nodded. "Well, this shouldn't take long. I got an important phone call to make here soon." They rode along in silence, John steady pecking at his smart phone. He had three important emails but they would have the wait. Ten minutes later the car came to a complete stop in front of nice looking street where the business savvy and rich could be seen flocking out of expensive department stores carrying big bags of no doubt designer clothing.

"Come on here son. Let's see if we can grab you a coat. We're going in Coaches. At least this way you can keep warm when coming out."

"O-Okay." John said, not arguing with the man and followed him. He felt very out of place here. He knew if he had nicer cloths, with his looks he'd put any Li-po-addicted snob to shame. But that wasn't the case and John felt intimidated. He sighed and silently followed Layfield.
He looked around at the people. John didn't wish to be rich. But he wished to have more than he did. An actual job and an apartment that followed health and safety codes would be fine with him.

When John entered Coaches, he was not greeted by any of the sales persons which in turn made him mad. He walked around the small store for several second, Johnny opting to stay back probably feeling intimidated. After a while he was finally greeted like he should have been ages ago.

"Sir? Can I help you? You look like you're lost."

John scowled. "Hell naw I ain't lost but if you don't hurry your ass up and find someone to fit my friend for a coat, I'll have all of you fired." John pulled out his wallet, handing the confused looking bald man his credit card.

"I--I--Mr. Layfield!" He grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it. "F-Forgive me! I've never know you to be seen in anything other than a designer suit. I--I'll get on this right away!"

"See that you do and make it snappy. I'll be in the car--and don't you dare forget to give him back my credit card." John brushed past Johnny at the door stopping only long enough to tell him to make sure he picks a leather coat that was slightly bigger for comfort and not necessarily high fashion. Of course, coming from Coaches, hell all the leather digs looked hot anyway.

John blinked, surprised but nodded nonetheless. When he woke up this morning, he definitely didn't expect to be taken to the Coach store and have a millionaire buy him a leather coat. John bit his lip, trying to ignore the stares the rich people gave him.

John found a leather coat that definitely kept him warm. Leather on the outside, sheepskin on the inside. He didn't really want to look at the price as he knew it was incredibly high. He brought it to the register, purchased and grabbed Layfield's credit card before going back to the car. "T-Thanks.. again." He said, handing the credit card back to John.

John took his card casually placing it back in his wallet. He took a good look at the coat and mentally applauding the kid for going with warmth over stand out. He didn't bother to look at the receipt either as most everything in Coaches started right at $900. "Its a nice fit." He nodded for the driver to pull off, checking his watch. They were pushing it. They would be lucky to make it in the next ten minutes or so since traffic was pretty bad.

"Kid, try not to lose the jacket. I'm sure someone's bound to notice since you and I both know you don't make enough to afford a $900 jacket. Also, tomorrow morning, I'm gonna show up to your building early--7am early--and take you to the doctor. That cough sounded nasty but if we catch it early, you'll beat the flu or whatever it is."

"Oh... well thank you." John said, a little stunned at all this man was doing for him. He wasn't used to it. Someone actually caring if he was warm or if he was sick. "And I won't loose it." He promised. He'd bite someone before anyone took the jacket. He needed to be warm, as he was seemingly always cold. Especially since he walked everywhere.

"I-I... I just have to ask... why are you doing this? I mean, I appreciate more than you could imagine but... you could of just left me on the ground to get sick. you could have let me get raped in a parking lot. You didn't have to waste your time with me. So... why are you doing it?" He asked quietly, praying the man didn't take it the long way.

"You know a wise man once said you should never question good fortune." He glanced over at John and sighed. "You ask way too many questions. You looked cold just now and ya have a slight cold. It would be pretty cruel of me to pretend like I didn't notice. What if you killed over by freezing to death? That would weigh heavily on my conscience John and that's the last thing I need on top of all the other shit already kickin' my ass every night. So just...accept the kindness and move on."

The car halted in front of the Cat N Mouse. "Don't forget. In the morning's ya doctor visit. You won't be working tomorrow. Good night."

John just nodded. "Night." He said quietly and walked into the the club. He ignored Dave and went straight to the back to get changed. He looked at his new coat for a minute. He still couldn't believe it. But he took Layfield's advice and decided to not question good fortune. He was grateful for what this man was doing for him and he knew he'd should just go with it.

He sighed and got changed and went out to dance. He tried to finish it early so he go home and get some rest. God knows he needed it.

John went back to his hotel room and did some business over the phone. Sticking around trying to help that kid a litte was putting a dent in his schedule. However, that Dave guy rubbed him the wrong way and he be damned if he wasn't gonna stick around just to throw his weight around. Hell, Dave was certainly good at bullying people but at least John, in his mind, was doing it for all the right reasons. No one deserved to be treated like trash and he hope he could lead by example when it came to putting your foot down. The kid was way too soft and if he'd only put his foot down and make Dave realize that he needed him, maybe things would go smoother for him. He couldn't be sure but it was just a hunch.

Hours passed then night turned to day. John actually went to bed a decent hour, having picked up a headache after worrying about his next business venture. He grabbed a quick shower then started towards Manhattan Island hoping Johnny would be ready to go. He needed to get that kid to a doctor so if anything, he could kick that nasty cold before it turned into something worse.

John awoke early that morning, getting ready for his doctor's appointment. He threw up last night, then passed out curled up around his toilet incase he needed to puke again, as he didn't have the energy to make it from his bed to the bathroom. He slipped on his warmest sweat pants as he was freezing cold, especially with his furnace broken. He slipped on his new coat, wrapping it tight around himself, thankful for the warmth.

He had a rough night at work. A few truckers bothered him but John managed to take care of himself. Dave was a bully, but he was also a coward and didn't want to loose his best dancer. John hated dancing. He hated his apartment and hated his life. But he gave up a long time ago when realizing he had nothing to do with his life. Granted, he wanted to, but he just couldn't.

John got to Johnny's apartment a little bit early, glancing out of his window at the few shady people in the area. He noticed a few beggers sitting on a sidewalk and had the thought that he had no idea those still existed. Sure people begged him for money all the time but to see an actual person sitting on the sidewalk in freezing temperatures shaking a tin can left a bitter taste in his mouth.

It wasn't long before he spotted John coming out of the building, coat wrapped tightly around him. He pushed the door open so all he had to do was slide right in. "Good morning," he dawled. He slipped a cup of coffee in John's hand and a warm donut. It wasn't exactly the best breakfast but it was the breakfast of champions when one didn't have time to eat properly.

"Morning. And... thanks." John said, holding the coffee a minute to let it warm his hands before he took a sip and bit into the donut. "I... I really appreciate this. I wish there was a way I could repay you." He sighed.

He knew this man didn't have to do this for him. And he truly wished he could repay him. The only thing John could give was sex, and Layfield didn't see, like the type of guy to want to fuck a prostitute/stripper. He sighed and ate his makeshift breakfast, glad to have something in his stomach for once.

John sipped on his coffee too, shaking his head a little. "It's no big deal Ace and don't look at this as me using you as a charity case. When I help people, it's 99.9% of the time because I wanna. You seem like--well--you got it pretty rough. You're a nice guy just working hard trying to make a living. I may not like what you do, but it's an honest living. I respect it. You didn't ask for handouts and I like that. I admire a guy who'd rather work hard for their stuff than beg others for handouts."

They rode in silence the rest of the way, both enjoying their mini breakfast. Twenty minutes later they were pulling up to the doctor's office, John's driver letting them both out. "This guy's a very good doctor. I know you've probably only caught a cold but while you're here, he can give you a thorough checkup, run a few blood tests and make sure you're had your flu shot and all that good stuff. That mold in that apartment complex is dangerous to your health."

John nodded. "Okay." He said quietly and followed Layfield into the doctor's office. It's been a long time since he;d been to one. John's health insurance was pretty much nonexistent, so he didn't have any shots or checkups. John wasn't even sure of he was clean considering all the rapes he's been through in the past years. He was a little afraid to see if he was clean or not. He couldn't afford medication.

He coughed a little as he sat down in the waiting room next to JBL. He knew he probably had the flu. He didn't have any vaccinations, especially for Swine flu. He sighed, fidgeting with the hem of his coat nervously. It was times like these were he wished he could live, not just survive. But he couldn't.

John grabbed a Southern Living magazine off the little table next to him, flipping through it while they waited. They didn't have to wait long before Johnny's name was called. When John set up the appointment, he didn't know anything about the kid so he had his driver go to the club and ask about him. Turns out his name was John Morrison and that's about all he knew. He could, of course, use resources to dig into his personal background but hell, it's not like the kid was a menace to society so he held off on a background check. He only needed a name.

"Morrison, John?" the doctor called. "Follow me to the back please."

John raised a brow and glanced at Layfield. "My last name is Hennigan. I gave the club a false name." He said but nonetheless, got up and followed the Doctor into a room. He didn't really like Doctors. But they were goin to help him, so he just went along with it and sucked it up. He was afraid for his blood test. TO see if he was clean. he prayed he was. He let the Doctor do the usual physical, finding out John was 20 pounds underweight. He sighed.

"I... I don't eat regularly. Can't afford to." He told the doctor.