Title: Fix me
Author: Amaroqwolf
Synopsis: Punk is fine how he is, he doesn't need any help fixing himself, or does he?
Pairing: Punk/Ziggler

Author's notes: Been trying to figure out how to do this pairing for awhile, and then I was sitting here all by my lonesome and this idea popped into my head. This may end up longer then one chapter, will just have to wait and see.

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It's taken a life time to lose my way
A life time of yesterday
All the wasted time on my hands
Turns to sand, and fades in the wind
Crossing lines, small crimes
Taking back what is mine

Phillip Jack Brooks sat silenlty on the bench in the middle of the Police precint, he wasn't at this point in time really all that sure of where he was. The last place he had a clear memory of his life was about 3 maybe 4 years ago. But, that was the past and the past didn't matter to him right at the moment. No in fact right now mattered and he had no clue where he was right now. And that could be bad, his eyes drifted to his right hand which was handcuffed to the bench, he could see his knuckels which hurt they were busted open blood smeared on them. He wondered briefly if it was his blood or someone elses. A woman walked by, she was pretty but she hid it well under her uniform, her dark hair was pulled back in a bun, and her clothes while unflattering didn't completely hide her nice shape, good hips, nice breasts, but her face was what caught his eye.

"Excuse me," he croaked and oh man did his throat hurt, like amazingly painfully bad. He swallowed slowly testing the pain and figured someone must of either punched him or strangled him. "Excuse me," he tried again.

The woman paused and with a tired sounding sigh turned and looked at him, just like he expected she would, like he was dirt on her shoe. "What?" she asked her voice which should of dripped like honey was cold as ice.

"Uh...where am I?"

She let out a laugh which did have a hint of that honey he expected she reserved to those special to her. "you're back home in chicago Punk...we finally caught up with you," She snorted.

Chicago, oh no no no that was not good, Chicago was home to his mom, and his dad and his family and those were people he didn't want to see really. But what was worse Chicago was also home to a group of people he REALLY didn't want to see.

"Fuck fuck fuck,"

She smirked and let out yet another laugh still unable to hide the honey but Phil couldn't exactly find himself careing about the honey anymore, as he'd turned inside to the inner turmoil in his head now. Not even seeing when the officer walked away and left him alone again, he never even got to ask for a drink, or his one phone call, not that he knew anyone to call but hell what the fuck he could give it a try. Oh what did it fucking matter he was so screwed now anyways. Not screwed, fucked royally, anally and it wouldn't be pleasurable at all. He lowered his head ignoring his long black locks as they fell into his face, trying to think, trying to form a plan, trying to figure out a way to escape.

But his brain skipped a few million beats and suddenly he was staring across the table at a big man, with an even bigger nose. Who kept calling himself Detective Helmsley. Why on earth was that name so fucking farmiler he kept trying to work it out in his head, but the nose kept pushing and pushing and pushing.

"Will you shut up I'm trying to think!" He suddenly snapped at the guy.

"And that's always what gets you in trouble phillip, this time were doing the thinking for you," He said.

"I don't work for you anymore," He responded.

"No but you do still have a contract with some friends of ours," He smirked knowingly and Phil's heart if he still had one sank.

"No," He responded clenching his fists.

"You can't say no Phillip you don't have a choice,"

"I don't even remember how to do any of that!" He cried indignent.

"Well you better start remembering because once we get you presentable enough you're heading to see Mr. McMahon,"

"No," He repeated.

"You listen here you little shit! You fucked up! And you fucked up GOOD this time, you either do as you're told or will send you somewhere no one will ever find you ever!"

Phil was quite for a long time, a very very long time then he sighed his shoulders slumping he nodded. "Can I have a fucking Diet Pepsi please?" He asked softly giving in for the moment, eventually he'd get the chance to run. Eventually he'd run again and loose himself in the mess of his mind and forget this world and promises to people who were now dead because of him.

The Nose smirked knowing he'd won that battle, smirk all you want asshole, there's still a war to be won, and I'm gonna win it come hell or high fucking water. He slumped down on the seat crossing his arms over his thin chest not saying a word until a bottle of soda was put down in front of him. He opened it and sniffed it instinctively.

"We didn't drug it Phillip!" Helmsly snapped.

"Never know with you guys," He responded before taking a drink.

Helmsley let out a laugh and shook his head. "I am so glad I'm turning you over to McMahon." He snorted. "Maybe they can get yer damn paranoia under control."

"I like my Paranoia, its keeps me company on the cold nights," Phil smirked he wasn't paranoid he knew how the world worked. He always knew ever sense he was a little kid and his family had been like a volcano waiting to go off. Always go through life making no noise, no disturbance on the surface, keep everything under wraps. That was the best way to survive life.

Helmsley looked at him intently for a long time. "Is there anything else you want?" He asked. "its going to be a long night."

"No,"

"You're not hungry?"

"No,"

"Fine,"

And like that the nose was gone headed off to do whatever it was he did when he wasn't in Phil's face. He rubbed at his forehead and rested it on the table trying desperately to figure out exactly how he'd ended up here.

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"Hunter he's drugged out of his mind, he didn't even know where he is!" The woman who had spoken to Phil earlier said with a groan. "There's no way he can get past their guards,"

"Detective Torrez, he'll do just fine," He said calmly. "He's supposed to be on Medication for his memory issues, but when he goes off the grid its kinda hard for him to stay on them," He responded. "Were lucky we found him,"

She shook her head. "I don't think this is a good idea, he could endanger the whole program, and what about Nick?" She asked looking worried.

"Nick, knows how to handle himself, and Punk knows how to handle himself" He said. "Vince will get Punk back on his meds and will set him to work and soon enough Nick will be home with you every night."

She sighed softly. "I don't like this one bit Hunter," She said softly.

"Eve, I know you don't like this." He said.

"I hate that he's gone all the time," She responded. "I never see him anymore, and when I do, he's different he's not my Nick anymore," She sighed.

"Of course not he's playing his part, what if he gets dragged in here and starts acting all buddy buddy with us?" he asked. "He'll be dead before the day was over."

She sighed nodding. "I know, its just sucks," She said looking in the window again at the man who was slowly banging his head off the table and obviously talking to himself. "Are you sure he can fix this?" She asked.

"I know for 100% Sure he can fix this, he's one of them." He said with a grin. "Like I said, Vince will get him back on his meds and will send him in and everything will be fine," He said.

She sighed softly then nodded. "Alright, if you're sure."

"Positive," He responded.

She took a deep breath. "I'll go send the call to Vince then," She said and slipped out of the room with out another word. Hunter watched her go then looked back into the room where Punk was now ranting at the bottle of diet pepsi.

I hope I'm right," He mumbled. "I really really hope I'm right," He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest watching the younger man silently.

TBC...

A/N: Yep! This is more then one chapter! Woo hoo! LMAO! Read and Review folks.