A/N: *cough cough* Hi guys. Um so I'm a little new at this type of writing. I write Criminal Minds fanfiction, but I've been a wrestling fan as long as I can remember and I just really miss the nice CM Punk and I totally shipped him and AJ. Feedback and reviews would be much appreciated so I know whether to continue this or take it off. Happy Reading!


AJ


April Mendez, AJ, smiled brightly as two little girls, who couldn't be older than 10, approached her shyly in the airport. Most of the time, if she traveled alone, she could get away without being recognized, but, once in a while, a few of the young fans (or some really creepy older ones) could point out who she was. She had to sign autographs, of course, but she figured it was better than traveling with the rest of the roster since superstars like John and Randy and Punk usually didn't get away without being recognized.

"Ms. Lee?" the smaller girl asked timidly, ducking her head. April crouched down to her eye level and tilted her head slightly.

"Yes?" she answered gently, trying not to scare her. As a lifelong WWE fan herself, she knew how hard it was to go up and ask someone that larger-than-life for an autograph. For her, it had been Trish. Now, much to her embarrassment and disbelief, it was her. The little girl ducked behind her older sister. The older girl swallowed before bravely looking up at her.

"Can we have your autograph?" she asked in a small but strong voice, holding out a piece of paper and a pen. From around her shoulder appeared another piece of paper and a set of brown eyes watching her.

"Of course!" she beamed, taking the pen and both pieces of paper. "Who am I writing this to?"

"My name is Summer," the older one chirped, holding her little hands behind her back.

"Summer, keep on lightin' it up," AJ said out loud as she scribbled a message. She signed with a flourish and handed it back. The child's eyes lit up and she raced back to her parents, leaving the smaller, more frightened little girl behind. AJ smiled and softened her voice. "And you sweetheart?"

"I'm April," the little girl whispered shyly. AJ paused and took a moment to write a very special message.

"Here you go April. Can I let you in on a little secret?" she asked, handing back the paper. Little April nodded her head, eyes wide. "The A in AJ stands for April too." Little April squealed and wrapped her arms around AJ's neck.

"Thank you Miss Lee!" she squeaked as she too ran back to her parents. The little girl was talking excitedly and, as her parents looked up in gratitude, AJ simply smiled and waved as she stood back up. She grabbed her luggage and nestled into a chair, content on sitting in a waiting area. The other stars on the roster weren't as comfortable, but that was because they were bigger names recognized far more often. She pulled a book out of her carry on (she was far more intelligent than people gave her credit for), and was able to get a good chunk into her book before she heard her name again. Her real name.

"April Mendez?" Her muscles tensed slightly but she forced herself to remain calm. It was a man's voice calling her, one that she remembered very well from all the times it had screamed at her. She took a deep breath and raised her eyes over her book. Standing not two feet from her was the only thing that still made her wake up screaming for help in her sleep. She swallowed roughly.

"Derek," she greeted politely. She returned her eyes to her book but knew that he wouldn't let it go at that.

"After I spent two years in you all I get is a 'Derek'?" he demanded with the far too familiar edge to his voice. She weighed her options in her head. She could mention that those two years had been the most traumatic of her life and ask him if he was proud of himself because her scars hadn't faded yet and she still had trouble occasionally from the time he broke her elbow and wouldn't let her get it checked out. She could coldly ask how he recognized her with make up on and no bruises or cuts on her face. She also knew that if she said any of that out loud, he would cause a scene and probably drag her out to his car. So she closed her book and laid it carefully on her carry-on bag and smiled very politely up at him.

"What brings you to Dallas?" she asked carefully. When they had been together, they'd had a house in Charlotte. She couldn't think of anything that would bring him this far from North Carolina and fervently prayed that she wouldn't have to hire a bodyguard. The smile that had made her fall in love flashed on his face.

"Thanks for asking. I wish I could say I was here on better terms. Mom just passed," he said quietly. AJ felt a slight pang. As much as she hated her abusive ex, his mother had been a sweet woman who hadn't had the courage to leave when she had been put in the same spot.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, meaning it with all her heart. He nodded, taking a seat across the aisle, much to her discomfort. He reached over and laid a hand on her knee. She stiffened.

"What brings you out here? Do you have any time to catch up?" he questioned, rubbing circles on her knee.

"My flight leaves soon, I don't have much time," she replied, skillfully dodging the first half of his question. She truly didn't understand the stupidity it took to not know that she was a WWE Diva now but she appreciated the privacy that the constant traveling afforded her. His eyes hardened familiarly and she felt the old rush of wondering what she did wrong. He snatched his hand back and she felt a short lived measure of relief until he grabbed her arm and jerked her to her feet.

"We are going to go eat lunch. We are going to catch up. Then we are going to go back to my place," he growled, tightening his grip.

"Derek, let go of me," she asked calmly. He had never hurt her in public, but the only thing keeping her calm was knowing that he wouldn't get the chance to hurt her in private.

"No," he smirked, beginning to walk. She planted her heels but, to her horror, she began inching in his direction.

"Derek," she growled, her voice low and deadly in something she could only describe as her stage voice. He paused and looked at her, surprised at the venom in her voice. "Let go of me. Or I'll do what I didn't have the guts to do all those years ago and scream. I'll scream and scream and scream." The old smirk crawled across his face.

"No you won't," he laughed as he resumed walking. She sucked in a breath and let out a piercing scream. He froze and whirled around. She screamed again and again and people were turning and staring at her, but more importantly, him. Eyes ablaze, he whirled around. She stopped screaming and smiled.

"Now let me go," she demanded. He tightened his grip and she opened her mouth again.

"Ma'am is there a problem?" a security guard intervened, eyes zeroing in on Derek's hand on her arm.

"Yes actually. This man is abducting me. I have a flight to catch and he is dragging me away," she gasped, working her new found acting skills into her voice.

"I'm sorry sir. There's been a misunderstanding. My wife is confused," Derek said smoothly. The security guard looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not. I'm not your wife. I don't know you!" she panicked, struggling against his grip.

"You bitch!" he spat, shoving her away. She felt relief course through her until the back of his hand connected with her face. Her cheek exploded in pain and her eyes filled with tears. The security guard flat out tackled Derek, shouting for help. Three more rushed to the scene and one very worried woman rushed to her side.

"Miss, are you okay?" she questioned, placing hands on AJ's arms. One hand was clutching her burning cheek and she felt as if her eye was about to explode.

"Flight 147 to San Diego now boarding," came over the intercom.

"No, I'm alright. My plane is boarding," she pushed out, forcing a smile. The woman's worried eyes followed her back to her chair. AJ bent to scoop up her carry-on and grab her luggage. She could feel the eyes on her back, so different from the eyes that were usually on her every Monday, as she walked to the entrance. She handed over her first class ticket and struggled to disregard the flight attendant's worried eyes as she was escorted to her seat. She sighed as she was lead to her seat, noticing that first class was mostly empty.

"Can I get you anything?" asked the attendant politely.

"A bag of ice would be nice please," she requested as she dug around in her bag for her headphones and IPod.

"Right away," chirped the attendant as she scurried off. AJ kept her face neutral until after the attendant returned with ice and disappeared again. Only after she had the compressor pressed to her face did she allow the tears to leak over. She wasn't crying because her feelings were hurt. She had no doubt that Dallas security would handle Derek and he didn't know where she was going anyway. She wasn't particularly crying because of the pain, though it did hurt enough to make her eyes tear, but she had felt worse in the ring. She cried because of the memories that the slap had brought back. She closed her eyes and let the tears flow, dozing slightly as she tried to forget.

She awoke two hours late to the sounds of landing and she felt disgusting. Her cheek was swollen (she could feel the familiar tightening) and the skin under her eyes felt sticky from her dried tears. She grabbed her things and scuttled off the plane. A driver with her name on his sign drew her attention and she made her way to him. His eyes widened, but the look on her face kept him from asking. The drive to the stadium was a blur to her; she only knew that she was in San Diego and going to the stadium because Smackdown was being filmed tonight.

"Please take my things to the hotel" she requested, wincing at her voice. It was rusted and tired and she cleared her throat before repeating her request. The driver nodded and got back in the car. She carried only her bag with her gear in it as she made her way through the halls. She turned a corner and froze. At the end on the hall was her on-screen enemy but real life best friend CM Punk. She shuddered to think what he would do to see her now and, as she was debating what to do, he turned.

"April!" he called, a smile lighting up his face. Panicking, she located her dressing room and ducked in. She turned the lock and threw her bag on the couch. She rushed to a mirror and winced. The entire left side of her face was swollen and bruising and on her arm were bruises in the shape of Derek's fingers.

"April!" Punk called from the other side of the door. He knocked. "April!" he yelled, concern lacing his voice. "Open the door!" She made her way to the door and leaned her head against the cool wood, laying her small hand on the door knob.

"I can't," she whispered. There was no noise on the other side of the door.

"Why not?" he whispered back, worry clear in his voice.

"You don't want to see me right now."

"April, don't be stupid. I always want to see you. Come on, open up," he chuckled, jiggling the handle. She paused, about to tell him to go away when he spoke again. His voice was soft and gentle, so unlike his character whispered through the door. "April. Please." She felt the tears building again and a lump in her throat formed.

"Okay," she mumbled, unlocking the door. Before he opened the door, she turned around and reached up to hold her arm. "Come in," she whispered. She felt the cool air from the hallway flow in and heard the click on the door as it closed. He came up behind her and gently laid his hands on her arms.

"What's wrong precious?" he asked, trying to turn her around.

"Back up please. Then I'll show you." He sounded confused when he said okay and she felt his lips in her hair. The warmth from his tattooed hands left her and she took a deep breath. She turned slowly and watched his face carefully. He stared at her like he wasn't sure was he was looking at. She saw his trademark fury ignite in his eyes – they really do base your character loosely on your personality. His hands, covered with tape, clenched and he swore loudly before turning and ramming his fist into the wall. It broke where his hand connected and she flinched at the loud sound. When he refocused his gaze on her (he had to see the terror in her face), the fire immediately disappeared and his face softened. He slowly made his way towards her. His anger might make her jump but she was never afraid of him. He opened his arms and she walked into him, sobbing into his yellow "GTS" shirt. His hands stroked her hair and she clung to him.

"Shhh, sweetheart. I'm here," he soothed. When her tears subsided, she pulled back. He very carefully rubbed his thumb under her eyes and placed his hands on her shoulder. "Who did this?" he asked

"It's not a big deal. It won't happen again," she hiccupped. He may have been her best friend, and she knew he'd never lay a hand on her to cause her pain, but she knew when not to push him. Which is why she knew she was in trouble when he spoke again. There was venom in his words and no room for arguments as he asked her one more time.

"Who. Did. This?"