Colt hovered outside the door to his and Punk's shared apartment. He took a deep breath; he had to do this he couldn't put if off any longer. He walked through the door to find Punk sleeping on the sofa as per the usual when Punk waited for Colt to get back. Colt bit his lip nervously and wondered over, standing there not say anything yet, just watching as Punk's chest rose up and down, steady and soothing. He couldn't do this; he could wait a little longer. Punk didn't have to know yet. He got ready to turn away and continue on to the kitchen, but then his most recent doctors' visit popped into his head, that was where he had just come from. He frowned the visit replaying in his head.

Colt by now had gotten over how much he hated doctor offices; he had grown so used to them. His doctor looked at him concerned "Colt...have you actually told anyone yet?" his doctor already figured out the answer, but he was wrong, Colt had told people just not the person that mattered the most. His parents knew, he had long since told them, a few friends knew although not many, but he had yet to tell Punk. He shook his head "No..." he said quietly, his doctor sighed at him "I know that its hard Colt, but you have to tell him." Colt scowled at him "it can wait for a little longer" he insisted. The doctor shook his head and looked at him sadly "results came back Colt, we knew before, but now...it can't wait, you don't" he paused "you don't have long" Colt froze, how long was not long? But he wouldn't ask. It was better not to know.

He had to tell him, it couldn't wait or it would be too late. Even though waking him would bring dire consequences, Colt couldn't wait or he would chicken out, again. He gently shook Punk and slowly but surely Punk opened his eyes and gave him a bit of a glare, Punk didn't sleep much, and so when he did sleep no one dared disturb him or they would face his wrath, Colt hoped Punk would understand why he had had to wake him. "The fuck Cabana?!" he snapped as soon as sleep completely cleared from his head. Colt chewed his lip and Punk instantly knew something was up, but of course his irritation didn't clear at all. "I need to talk to you." At those words Punk looked at him in forbidding, he expected Colt to finally realise he wasn't good enough for him "About me going out all the time, not telling you were I've been going, not wrestling as much" Colt looked down at the ground, scared, he didn't know how Punk was going to react, he didn't even know how to say it, he couldn't, and before he could even try Punk interrupted him. "Who?" Punk asked his voice sounding strained, hurt. Colt just looked at him puzzled; he didn't understand why Punk had just asked him that. "What...?" he started sounding as confused as he looked. "Who have you been fucking?" Punk snapped, and Colt realised what he meant, he thought Colt had been cheating on him and with Punk's past relationships it's no wonder why his mind would instantly go to that, but the allegation still hurt. "No one Punk listen to me..." but Colt was cut off, Punk beginning to get frantic, Colt had saved him, he was his everything, his rock, he couldn't have done this, and he couldn't have lied to him about this. He had trusted him. "How could you do this?" he wailed "I trusted you Colt" Punk was upset, over nothing, Punk wasn't letting Colt explain. "Who is it? What can I do to make it better? I can change. Please Colt don't leave me" he pleaded; the words made Colt's heart clench, but his words were starting to piss him off, "Shut the fuck up Punkers!" Colt yelled. "I'm not fucking cheating on you! I'm dying! I have a fucking brain tumour" that shut Punk up. Both men remained where they were, completely silent and completely still apart from hot angry tears that had started to fall down Colt's face. Punk stared at him in disbelief. It took a while before Punk composed himself "What? You're kidding right?" he asked in desperation, Colt crossed his arms over his chest; he couldn't let himself break down "I wish..." Colt said quietly. Both men relapsed into silence. Neither knowing what to say or do. Punk's thoughts were racing, weird things Colt had been doing made sense now, disappearing without a word of where he had been going, not training and wrestling as much, suspicious phone calls Colt wouldn't talk to him about, how much Colt had been distancing himself. A dry taste came into Punk's mouth and he shut his eyes rubbing his temples, breaking the stillness. This couldn't be true, it couldn't be happening, he couldn't lose Colt, he just couldn't. He couldn't die. He felt something happening that hardly happened, tears started to form in his eyes. He shoved his face in his hand's his finger tips applying pressure to his eyes, trying to stop the tears, he was hiding his face, he didn't want Colt to see him like this. Colt couldn't stand to see Punk breaking down like this, because of him. He quickly slid onto the sofa next to Punk and wrapped his arms around the other, Punk repositioned himself so that he could curl into Colt, his own arms wrapping around Colt, he curled into Colt's chest his fingers clutching at Colt's shirt. He felt safe in Colt's arms and he didn't know for how much longer he would be able to feel that way. "How long until..." Punk trailed off unable to continue his sentence, turning his face to look up at Colts, his hazel eyes meeting Colt's brown. Colt looked back into Punk's for a few minutes before turning his head away unable to look at Punk when he spoke. "Not long" Colt's heart broke at the sound Punk made at hearing that his best friend and lover wasn't going to be there for much longer. Fate was cruel, it had taken so long for both men to admit their feelings to each other, Colt not dating anyone because it was only Punk he wanted, and Punk going through countless people that constantly broke his heart thinking he'd never stand a chance with Colt and now that all that had finally been resolved, it was going to be torn apart by some dumb brain tumour. "You can't leave me Colt; I love you" Punk muttered sounding broken. If Colt's heart was already broken, it was shattered now, all he could do was pull him in closer.

(A/N this was inspired by an Imagine your OTP which is Imagine one half of your OTP coming home to tell the other half that they have a terminal illness)