Punk had just made The Miz tap out to the anaconda vice and was currently celebrating his victory when he heard clapping coming from the Titantron. He turned around to see Chris Jericho's face, and thought it was just another 'I'm the best in the world at what I do' promo. "Yeah! Congratulations! Way to go, Punk, way to go! Congratulations on your big win." By now Chris had stopped clapping and CM Punk jumped off of the turnbuckle. "You need to enjoy them while you can, Punk, you see…you can smirk if you want to but I see straight through you. When I look at you I see a fraud, and I'm not talking about the fact that you call yourself the best in the world, I'm talking about you as a person." Punk looked confusedly up at the giant screen and the face on it. "Because I did a little research this week, Punk, and I found a little something, a little deep, dirty, dark secret about you." Punk smirked as Jericho continued on with his tirade. Chris had nothing on him, and it made him laugh. "You've been straightedge ever since you came to the WWE but you've never explained the reasons why. I wanna tell all of these wannabe's why you're a straightedge. I wanna tell then that you're straight-edge…because your father is an alcoholic." By now Punk had stopped laughing. He stopped smirking and frowned at Jericho, processing the words, wondering how he found out and, more importantly, why he would announce it on worldwide television. "Yeah, that's right. Your father was an alcoholic who let you down every step of the way when you were growing up and it terrifies you, you don't wanna end up like him. But it's inevitable that you will, because alcohol is in your blood, Punk, it's in your genes, it's part of who you are. And that tortures you. I know you've built this wall that you're a sarcastic anti-hero with not a care in the world. But I think I found something that you care about. I found something that gives you nightmares, something that terrifies you." Punk looked down, his brow knit together in a hurt expression. He looked back up at the screen, wishing that Chris would just stop. But of course, wishes just don't come true. "But isn't it ironic that the very alcohol that you crave, is the same thing that ruined your childhood? Oh, the nightmares you must have about your father, I almost feel bad for you, Punk." Punk couldn't look at the cruel and sympathetic face any longer. He turned away and closed his eyes with his head down as he rubbed forehead. There were just too many memories all coming back to him at once. "Is that the reason why you have all those tattoos? Was the pain of wanting to drink so bad that you needed the pain of a tattoo needle to take it out of your mind? Was it your only solace? Doesn't matter if it is, Punk, because you are going to drink eventually…and I am the one who's going to make you drink. At Wrestlemania 28 I'm going to take away your title, I'm going to take away your claims of being the best in the world, I'm going to take away your bravado, and I'm going to leave you a broken man. You're going to hit bottom, Punk, and when you do you're going to embrace your destiny and you're going to take a drink." Punk was breathing heavily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and listened as Chris told him of his "future". "And it's going to taste so good, that you're going to want to take another one, and another one, and another one. After April 1st I'm going to be recognized for who I am…the undisputed best in the world and the new WWE champion. And you're going to be recognized for who you are…who your father was…a pathetic, damn, drunk!" Punk was still breathing heavily and now began to feel sick and a little dizzy. He closed his eyes and felt like hurt that Chris would go as far as to bring up his past just to cut a good promo. "No I'm not…" He quietly told himself. He looked down at the WWE championship that had been dropped sometime during the beginning of the tirade. He bent down to pick it up, reeling back a little before actually picking it up. Punk then climbed out of the ring and down the steel steps, everything still a blur. One minute he was winning his match against Mike and the next Chris was telling the world about his past and how he would soon become a drunk just like him. He pushed the camera out of his face and slowly walked back up the ramp.
The minute Punk made it backstage, a camera was shoved in him face and stupid questions were being asked. He just stared at the cameraman and didn't answer any questions that were being thrown at him. Eventually Punk just walked away, not caring that the cameraman was in the middle of his sentence. Once Punk turned the corner and walked through the empty hallway and towards the locker room, he was falling apart. As he got closer to the door and farther away from the crowd and cameras, he was becoming more and more undone. Suddenly the locker room door opened and out walked Randy Orton. 'Great, just what I need.' Punk thought sarcastically. He kept his head down and stayed close to the wall, trying his best to not be seen by The Viper. But tonight the odds weren't in his favor and Randy looked up from adjusting his black wrist tape. "Punk." Punk froze at the mention of his name. He ran a shaky hand through his unruly hair and replied in an even shakier voice, "Now's not the time, Randall." Randy ignored the statement and walked up to Punk, blocking him from getting into the locker room. "Hey, are you okay? I saw what happened out there with Jericho." Punk was on the verge of having a breakdown and really preferred not to have an audience. All he wanted to do was go back into the locker room, shower, and get the hell out of there. "I'm fine, Randall. Now please let me past." Just at that time Punk let out an accusing sniffle that signaled he was far from fine. After a second or two of silence, Punk was going to ask Randy again to step aside when he felt arms wrap around him in an almost protective way. At first Punk struggled, hitting Randy's chest with his fists and trying to rip away, but the more he struggled and fought the more tears fell down his face and the tighter Randy hugged him. After a while, Punk stopped fighting and sniffled. "I'm fine…" He whispered, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that he indeed was. "Having a breakdown doesn't seem fine to me, Punk." Randy let go off Punk, who looked down at the floor once again. "I have my match now but I'll meet you back in the locker room." Randy stated. Punk nodded, not really having anything else to do anyway and though he'd never admit it, he felt a lot safer when the larger man had hugged him. Randy smiled one last time at Punk before walking down the empty hallway and to the gorilla. Punk turned around and slipped into the locker room. Surprisingly, no one was in there and Punk couldn't be happier. He put his Championship belt into his bag, took out some clothes and went in the showers.
Randy swaggered backstage after his match with a smirk on his face, proud that he defeated Jack Swagger (no pun intended). He opened the door to the locker room and all arrogance left him and was replaced by happiness once he saw Punk sitting on the bench listening to music and waiting for Randy like he said he would. In all honesty, Randy thought Punk would've ditched him. He walked into the showers without Punk even noticing and took a quick shower and got dressed. When Randy emerged from the showers fully dressed and clean, he saw Punk still listening to music but now he was staring into space. Randy smiled and tapped Punk on the shoulder after getting his bag ready. Punk jumped slightly, obviously startled, and turned around to see Randy smiling at him. He shut off his i-pod and put his headphones around his neck. "Hey, you ready?" Randy asked. Punk nodded, not in the mood to talk. "So I checked the rooming paper and it looks like we're gonna be rooming together." Randy said with another smile, trying to brighten the other man's mood and make small talk. "Cool." Punk said, keeping his gaze to the ground. Randy saw that Punk didn't feel like talking and didn't say anything else. Both men walked out into the parking lot and that's when Randy decided to speak up again. "Hey, do you need a ride?" "Yeah, thanks. Where are you parked?" Randy pointed to a white hummer. "That one's mine." Punk nodded but didn't say anything else. Randy and Punk climbed into the truck and pulled out of the lot. Once they were stopped at a light, Randy looked over at Punk.
"How are you holding up?" Randy asked with concern in his voice. Punk didn't look at Randy and instead kept his eyes glued to the window. "What are you talking about?" Randy sighed. He knew Punk would do this. Would pretend that nothing happened. "Cut the crap, Punk, you know exactly what I'm talking about." The light turned green and Randy turned his eyes back to the road. "I'm fine." Punk replied in a neutral tone. Randy, sensing that this wasn't going anywhere, kept quiet for the rest of the car ride.
They arrived at the hotel and checked in. They ended up staying on the 5th floor. Punk pressed the elevator button and it arrived rather quickly. Both men entered and Punk again pressed the button so they would go to their floor. They stood in silence until they arrived at their floor and when the doors opened, none other than Chris Jericho was standing there. He looked up from his phone and smirked arrogantly. "Hey guys, I didn't know you were on this floor too. I was just heading out to a club with the guys, you wanna come?" "We're busy." Randy growled, slightly stepping in front of Punk. "Really? What're you doing?" Chris asked, ignoring the obvious threat in Randy's tone. Randy narrowed his eyes. "We're just gonna chill out, maybe rent a movie. What's it to you, Christopher?" Chris now aimed his gaze at Punk. "Oh, you know me. Just wondering. But since we're all asking questions, since when'd you two become all buddy-buddy?" Chris still had an arrogant smirk on his face and it annoyed the hell out of Punk. "What, can't two co-workers hang out once in a while?" "They can, but it's just that I thought you two had kind of a bad history together. Never mind, I should get going anyways. I'll see you around." With that being said, Chris entered the elevator and left. "Now I see why you hate him so goddamn much." Randy commented before turning on his heel and walking down the hall. Punk caught up with him and waited for the door to be unlocked.
Punk slipped in behind Randy and went straight to the bed, falling face down on it. Randy just stood there awkwardly. "So…do you want the bathroom first or…?" After getting no answer, Randy just put his bag down, took some clothes out, and went into the bathroom. After he came out, Punk was still laying on the bed but this time his head was at the foot of the bed and he was laying face up. Randy stood close to the bed looking at the Straightedge Savior before quietly asking, "Phil, are you sure you're okay?" There was a minute or two of silence before he answered in a quiet voice that Randy thought sounded scared, an emotion uncommon to the Second City Saint. "I'm not gonna end up like him, right?" Randy sighed. "Chris was just trying to mess with your head, Phil. Alcohol is not in your blood or genes. So, no you're not gonna end up like your father." Randy sat down next to Punk's head. "If you say so." And with that being said, Punk jumped up off the bed and went into the bathroom before Randy could object.
Later that night after both Randy and Punk went to sleep, it started to rain with thunder and lightning. Though this didn't disturb Randy, Punk was a wreck. Not only did Chris's words still echo in his mind, but also the thunder made it even more impossible to sleep. He jumped as another thunderclap came out of nowhere. Punk turned his head to look at Randy sleeping peacefully. He was contemplating whether or not to wake him up, but that decision was made for him when there was another thunderclap that was louder than the rest. He jumped out of his bed and into Randy's. Randy yelled out in surprise and scrambled to turn on the light. His eyes squinted at the sudden brightness and he looked around wildly for the intruder. When his eyes finally landed on the quivering lump next to him, his gaze softened. Randy pulled back the covers and without saying a word, he pulled the small punk in close and buried his head in Punk's hair. Punk once again felt immense comfort in the Apex Predator's arms and soon fell asleep. Once Randy was positive that the small punk was fast asleep, he quickly followed with a smile on his face. Unknown to either man, the storm had calmed when they peacefully fell asleep in each other's arms with smiles on their faces.