A/N: Okay here it is, Chapter 1 of our first chaptered fic. It's Punkena, it was an RP (Role Play), I (Cal), was Phil and Krystle was John.

Chapter 2 will be up as soon as we can get it.

We do have a trailer for this fic actually. Look on our profile, there should be a link.

We really hope that you all will enjoy it!

Disclaimer: We don't own any of the wrestlers, they all belong to WWE and TNA. Trust me, if I owned Phil and AJ Lee and Krystle owned Cena and Kofi Kingston, you would never hear from either of us again.

Beyond Repair

"Where the hell does he get off on hitting me in the fucking stomach with a lead pipe!" CM Punk Aka Phil Brooks seethed while his manager Paul Heyman stood there silently, listening to Phil drone on.

"This is bullshit! Then you!" Phil turns and jabs Heyman in the shoulder roughly. "Take off, and leave ME to fend for myself! Against an armed man!" Phil continued his face turning red in his anger. Paul shied away in fear of what the furious WWE Champion would do to him.

"Then AFTER ALL OF THAT! Cena fucking rips on me for paying tribute to the late great Macho Man, saying I'M stealing his elbow drop, and I STOLE the colors from Bret Hart, yet He BLANTANTLY rips ME off!" Phil screamed starting to pace wildly as Paul simply watched, glancing around to make sure the General Manager AJ Lee didn't hear the commotion and decide to drop by to see what was going on inside Phil's locker room.

"Now that's what 'I' call a Pipe Bomb!" Phil mocked Cena's words after he had been attacked by the injured Boston native.

"Fucking hypocrisy at its finest!" Phil hissed crossing his arms, glancing over to see Paul simply nodding along with whatever he said. He reached over and snatched the WWE title out of Paul's hands, grabbing a handful of his suit, opening the door with one hand and shoving him out with the other.

"Get the fuck out of my sight!" He screamed through gritted teeth, slamming the door shut behind him. If Paul Heyman was as smart as he thought he was, he'd simply walk away and not protest being thrown out, or else Phil knew it would get physical.

He seethed in raged as he replayed the events in his head. Cena, someone he used to consider his love- no... his boy-... almost a friend... actually they weren't really close friends. More like fuck buddies to be honest.

Cena treated him that way... at least his Ex-boyfriend Jeff Hardy had been romantic towards him. Even when Phil didn't consider himself to be into any of the candle light dinners, long walks on the beach, watching the sunset together, the small simplest things that seems to count.

Hell even the Raw General Manager AJ Lee's crazy ass wanted to take him to the movies at one point in time... She would've done about anything for Phil to just hang out with her... John is the opposite of that. He always made Phil feel like a whore. He'd sneak him into his hotel room, locker room, janitor's closet, backseat of his car; Fuck even the bathroom on an airplane! Yes... he'd joined the mile high club with John Cena... watch all the kids and teenage girls cry.

The thing was... even though Phil prided himself on not getting attached... he as reluctant as he was to admit it... had gotten attached to John. Even when John treated him like a whore... he'd fuck him, and then was quick to throw him out so his wife wouldn't know.

Even as he went through his divorce with that bitch he still treated Phil as if he were ashamed of him. It made Phil start to hate his life, because every time John called, he'd go. They'd fuck until Phil could barely walk the next day, and John would throw him out, and act like it never even happened. He'd gone through depression because of it, and John and everyone else wondered why "he changed."

John had tried to talk to him, but Phil wanted nothing more to do with him. He was so sick and tired of Cena... Phil sneered and started throwing all his shit in his bag, wanting to get the fuck out of the arena so he didn't have to risk seeing Cena again tonight.

John had been trying to get a hold of him, but Phil ignored his calls and texts, deleted the voicemails without listening to them. He was done. "Fuck you John" Phil mumbled under his breath as he finished packing. He grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

He sneered, grabbing the WWE title and gave the locker room a quick once over, seeing it was clean, and that he had everything. He walked over to the door, twisting the knob, intending to get the fuck out of dodge.

Cena made his way to the back, fully intent on finding Phil. They hadn't talked in a while. John knew that Phil was ignoring him, but he didn't care. He needed to talk to him. John politely waved and nodded at everyone he saw backstage. Normally, he'd stop and have a conversation with everyone, but he didn't have time. He knew that Phil was going to be in more of a rush to leave than normal.

John passed a scurrying Paul Heyman and that made him think that maybe Phil hadn't left yet. He started walking faster and he sighed in relief when he saw a familiar hoodie and a Cubs hat heading toward the exit. Not wanting to startle Phil, Cena stealthily followed after him. John waited until Phil reached the parking lot to reveal himself. He used his good arm to tap Phil on the shoulder lightly. He wasn't surprised when the tattooed man angrily pushed his arm away.

Phil had his keys out and was putting them into the car door when John called out to him. "Phil, wait. I need to talk to you!" The glare that John received was almost enough to make him turn around and leave. However, giving up was not in John's nature. He took a deep breath and hoped that Phil would give him a chance to explain his actions as of late. Phil crossed his arms, but made no other sign that he was interested at all in whatever John had to say to him.

"I'm sorry. I know that I've been a dick to you and I'm really sorry, Phil. You were broken after Jeff left you and instead of trying to help you, I preyed on your vulnerability. I used you and treated you like shit. I should have stopped when I realized that you started having feelings for me, but I didn't. I didn't care about your feelings, but that all changed after the divorce. Liz didn't love me. She was just using me and I hated how that felt. I realized that I was doing the same to you and I hated myself for it. I've been trying to apologize to you all of this time, but you've been ignoring me. I know you probably hate me now and don't have any feelings for me anymore, but I do have feelings for you, Phil. I have a really shitty way of expressing it, but I do. I know that I don't deserve it, but could you find it in your heart to forgive me?"

Phil opened the trunk of his rental, tossing his bag and the WWE title inside, slamming it shut, releasing a heavy sigh. He kept his back to John when he felt the familiar burn behind his eyes, his vision going blurry as they filled with unshed tears.

He grit his teeth, mentally telling himself that he had cried enough tears over John Cena, and that he deserved no more. He did not deserve the second chance he was asking for. Part of Phil knew it was some sort of ploy to get closer to that WWE title that John coveted. He just knew it! Why else would he bother to apologize after he used him for sex, broke his heart, shattered the trust they had slowly started to build. When he had left him in the dust, when Phil's emotions got the best of him and he lost control and attacked John, he played it off as though he was the good guy and Phil was the one wearing the black hat!

Then above all that, hit him in the stomach moments ago with a fucking lead pipe, simply because Phil had something to say to the WWE universe and didn't want to be anywhere near the Cenation leader for obvious reasons; John had refused to leave the ring! So what would be the point of an apology, considering they were about to go head to head at Hell in a Cell for the title... John wanted to throw him off! Get him confused, attached again, so he could betray him again. That just had to be it!

Phil tried his damn hardest to keep his body's shaking under control and knew he was failing miserably and had to get the fuck out of there before Cena realized he was actually crying... he wouldn't put it past Cena to use his emotions against him... again. He bit his lip ring keeping his head low, facing away from John, and trying to swiftly move to the driver side door so he could make a quick escape. He knew John was waiting on answer, but Phil simply wouldn't give him the pleasure of getting one. He meant it when he said he was done.

"Move" He hissed under his breath, shoving past and shoulder checking John's good arm in the process. He hit the unlock button on the remote, his intentions to get away from the man who stabbed him in the back and turned him into what everyone now seemed to hate. It was all John's fault and even though his apology seemed sincere, Phil would never allow himself to be subjected to that treatment again; he'd never allow himself to fall back into John's trap. It took so long to try to rebuild the walls around his heart that Jeff had carefully removed when they were first dating. It took forever to TRY to patch the hole John had kicked through when they started whatever they were. He wasn't getting hurt again.

"I'm not going to be at Hell in a Cell, Phil. You've seen my elbow out of this sling; I'm not going to be ready. I needed this surgery before Summer Slam, but I kept putting it off. I know how much you hate fighting me now. Vince was never going to allow me request a change in story line. So, I decided to get the surgery. Don't end it like this. Please. At least let me say goodbye to you properly." John suddenly got so close to Phil that he could smell his cologne.

John inhaled the familiar scent and pressed his large body into Phil's, essentially trapping him against the car. Cena wrapped his good arm around Phil's waist and pressed his mouth against the tattoo behind his ear.

"I don't want to let you go, but I will if you honestly want me to. Just give me one more night with you. Let me make love to you, Phil. Will you at least allow me that, baby?" John whispered, the pet name slipping out almost automatically.

Phil relaxed against John's muscular body, pressing his forehead hard against the car so John couldn't see the tears now making their way down his face. His body started to shake, the familiarity of the embrace forcing the tears to spill. His instinct kicked in and he started to struggle against John's body.

"Get the fuck off me now!" He hissed through gritted teeth, feeling the much larger male easily over power him, keeping him pressed against his car. Phil shivered and tried to throw a back elbow into Cena's face but the older male saw it coming and pressed Phil more firmly against the car. When Phil realized he couldn't defend himself physically, he tried verbally.

"Why the fuck should I?!" He growled, seething in anger, continuing in a softer tone, hissing "So you can treat me like your dirty little secret? Your personal whore? The one you can call when you want to fuck... but not the one to take home to the family... not the one to be seen in public with... unless we're promoting the next bullshit charity event that Vince thinks is a great idea... am I on the right track John?" He asked feeling the tears sliding down his face, dripping onto the metal roof of his rental, he didn't bother trying to hide the fact that he was crying anymore, because he knew John could tell by his voice.

"You think I care that you're not going to be at Hell in a Cell? Cena the doctor said you'd be good to go! Don't you sit here and fucking lie to me and tell me you won't be!" He hissed feeling his body jerk slightly, starting to sob.

"You know it makes it bad enough that the man that..." He stopped and grits his teeth, taking a deep breath. "The man I started to love... the one that used me... is going to be the one to end... to take away the only thing I have left... to end my dreams... Irony has always been cruel to me... so you really didn't have to be too..." He muttered brokenly as more tears slid down his face with no signs of stopping anytime soon.

John gently grabbed Phil's arm, turning him around so that they were face to face. He wiped the cascading tears from Phil's face and just stared at him. This beautiful, sweet, and strong man was barely standing and crying all because of him. Cena felt low. He'd broken Phil Brooks and wasn't sure if he could put him back together. John wasn't sure what to say or do.

He didn't blame Phil for being pissed at him and not trusting him. He just wanted to make it all better. Cena knew that he was supposed to take the belt from Phil. He loved being champ and it was one of the best feelings in the world. But to win it after already breaking Phil's heart and crushing his spirit just didn't seem right.

Cena tenderly grabbed Phil's face and held it in place so that he could gaze into those pain filled green eyes. "I'm not that cruel, Phil. I won't take that from you too. I've done enough to hurt you. Creative will just have to come up with something else." John couldn't believe he was saying those words and a small part of him almost wanted to take the words back.

John kissed the tear stained cheeks and he didn't even mind the salty taste. He moved his mouth toward Phil's lips and he couldn't resist leaning in. He licked at Phil's bottom lip, silently asking for access. He had a feeling this was their final goodbye. He had to have one last taste.

Phil turned his head away, his instinct telling him those words were nothing more than just pretty lies... more pretty lies just to get him back in John's bed. John didn't care about him, 'cause if he did, he wouldn't have dug his grave for him. If he cared, he wouldn't have lied about Hell in a Cell like he just did, proving to Phil that he hadn't changed a bit. He was the same guy who shattered him.

He was the same guy. He pushed John's hands off him, his brain screaming at him to get out of there, trying to tell him he was in the danger zone. John kept trying to "help" him, but Phil's pride, and already broken spirit made him refuse any of John's "help".

He knew he was too upset to drive, he could barely stand, could barely see anything as it was, and the parking garage was pretty well lit compared to the pitch black streets he knew he was going to brave. He wasn't okay, he wasn't safe to drive but he didn't care; his instinct told him that he was more unsafe standing next to John than what he was about to do.

"I thought you weren't going to be at Hell in a Cell John? More pretty words... Pretty lies... to achieve your goal of completely breaking and humiliating me, don't touch me..." He whispered as he reached behind him, and opened the door, swiftly sliding inside the car. He shoved the keys in the ignition, struggling to start the car because through his tears, he could barely see. He was beyond the point of caring now, he was the beyond rational thought. He didn't realize the danger he was putting himself in. He sloppily put the car in drive and slammed his foot down on the gas, peeling out of the garage, leaving Cena in the review mirror.

Cena sighed. This was far from over. He knew what hotel Phil was staying at; he just didn't know the room number. He'd find out though because he couldn't let things end like this. He needed to give Phil a little bit of space though. Phil was practically irrational when he was upset and nothing that John said would get through to him.

After what felt like days, but was in reality only an hour, John was on his way to Phil's hotel room. He'd gotten the number from Kofi and thanked him. John knew there was a good chance that Phil wouldn't open the door, but he had to try.

"I completely understand that you don't want to talk to me anymore, but could you please open the door and let me in? I know I don't deserve it, but I want to try to make things right. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Just please, let me in," John begged.

Phil blinked hard, trying desperately to clear his vision enough to see. He was starting to regret leaving the arena without calming down first. He didn't regret getting himself away from the leech that was John Cena, but the tears still wouldn't give him a break. They hadn't stopped flowing since they started, and Phil knew it was because he was prone to bottling shit up all the time, and now it was coming back to bite him in the ass.

He hadn't gone back to the room, partially because he couldn't see and was surprised he hadn't wrecked yet, though he would welcome it gladly. Then everybody could fucking be happy… The other reason was because he knew John wouldn't give up when he wanted something. His hotel room would be the first place John would go; no doubt whatever "friends" he had left would tell Cena his room number. He wasn't going to chance it.

His instinct told him to pull the car over and get himself together but he ignored it. Sitting at the red light on an almost abandoned City street, Phil roughly wiped at his face, trying to force the thoughts of Cena far from his mind so he could at least focus on getting to a safe destination, where? He honestly didn't care, as long as John wasn't there, it was fine by him.

He glanced down at his iPhone, seeing he had 13 missed calls. Three of which were from his "Boss", AJ Lee, four from Kofi, and the rest were from John. He sneered and set the phone back down in the center console when he saw the screen turn green and start vibrating in his hand, the words "John Cena Calling" flashing across the screen, two options below it, "Answer" or "Ignore", he chose neither.

He glanced up seeing the light had turned green, and gave the car some gas, entering the intersection. The little voice in the back of his mind tried to tell him that he was going to get himself killed, but once again Phil ignored it and now he wished he would have listened to it. He never saw the car speeding towards him, blowing the red light until it collided with the driver side, Phil's head cracking the steering wheel. Everything went silent after his car had flipped; his vision was blurry, as he glanced to see his phone lying on the roof, next to his head, vibrating again.

This time it read "Kofi calling", he could barely hit answer, mumbling out "Help..." before he blacked out, the phone falling from his hand as his body went limp. The last thing he heard before he fully lost consciousness was Kofi's frantic, concerned cries wanting to know where he was. Saying that he was going to call John, and then he completely blacked out into nothingness, comfortably numb, far from the pain he felt before, unaware of what had just transpired. He faintly heard sirens and that was it before he hit complete silence. There was no sense of time, no sense of anything wherever he was. There was no John, no heartache, and no more pain.

A/N: Okay! The end of Chapter 1 and everyone just loves cliff hangers, am I right? :)

So Phil was involved in a car accident, I wonder how John and Kofi are going to feel about this.

We're having a lot of fun RPing this, hope the Punkena ships like it. Please leave a review and let us know! Thanks guys!

~ Cal & Krys (StraightEdgeEnigma)