A/N: Don't own 'cept Tamara. Don't sue.

Hey, thanks for all the reviews! They mean so much to me! And thanks to everyone who has fav'd it, too. Heh. As for the pairings, you'll just have to see...HA! I love being evil like that. At any rate, the chapter after this is sure to be fluffy. Everyone deserves some fluffy in their life right? Tee-hee! I'm in a tad bit of a good mood, if you could tell.

And now, without further ado, I present to you chapter eight of...


Drag Me To Hell

Chapter Eight

"What the fuck are you even doing, Orton?" Phil demanded. The show had been over for quite some time, but Randy and Phil were still arguing about the Viper carrying the beaten Tamara to the medical room. The two WWE superstars were still staring each other down with the redhead laying unconscious on the exam table next to them. Much to Phil's relief, Tamara only suffered a very minor concussion. "Answer me, Randal."

The tanned superstar towered over the Straight Edge rebel. "I don't have to answer to you, Punk. I did it on my own accord."

"That is such bullshit and you know it." Phil spat, harshly. "Not that long ago, you and that Nemeth fucker took pleasure in beating her inside that ring. Now what?" Phil rubbed his brow in agitation. "I don't fucking get it, Orton."

"Like I said," Randy growled. "I don't have to answer to you, Punk."

"I swear to fucking god, if you don't get the f-"

"Would you two shut the fuck up?" Tamara groaned. She felt like shit, and the bruises on her body and the pain in her head didn't make her feel any jollier. "Christ, I have a headache."

Before Phil could open his mouth, Randy spoke first. "You suffered a minor concussion after Nat and Beth attacked you."

Tamara's eyes met his piercing blue ones. "Why the hell are you even here, Orton?" She asked, not exactly caring about his presence. "Come to rub it in, have you?"

Phil sighed heavily. "Randal carried you here, Tam-Tam." He shot the Viper a glare. "Although I don't know why."

Randy let out a breath through his nose. "I did it because..." he drifted off, and his eyes started searching the tiled floor for an answer. "Because I wanted to." He finished lamely.

Tamara snorted. "Gee, that sounds familiar." Her mind flashed back to the gym in the hotel the week before her match with him.

Randy smoothed a hand down his face. "Tam-"

"Get the fuck out of here, Randal." Phil demanded with a push to the chest of the Viper.

"If you two are gonna fuckin' argue, then the both of you get the fuck out of here!" Tamara said loudly. The redhead rolled onto her side, away from the two dunderheads. "Fuck me, I said I have a god damn headache..."

Randy and Phil acquiesced, closing the door behind them as they stood in the hall outside the room. "Well?" Phil asked with his tattooed arms across his chest as he glowered at the Viper.

Randy ran another hand down his smooth face and let out a frustrated growl, knowing that Punk was going to keep pestering him about it. "Fucking Christ...I did it because..." he drifted off again, not able to say it aloud.

Phil eyes grew wide in sudden realization. "You fucking like her, don't you?" It wasn't a question, it was an accusation. Randy didn't need to say anything more. The look in his eyes was as easy to read as a pregnancy test. Positive. "Jesus Christ, Randal." Phil chuckled with a shake of his head. "That's sad as hell. You don't have a chance in hell with Tamara."

"What, and you do, Punk?" Randy snapped.

Phil merely raised an eyebrow. "Uh, no? I don't have a raging boner for Tamara like you do, Randal. I'm her friend." He shrugged. "That's it."

Randy lifted the corner of his lip, revealing a canine. It was a Viper's sneer. "Somehow I doubt that, Punk. I've seen the way you look at her."

Phil couldn't believe the accusation this douche bag was laying on him. He just chuckled. "You're a sad individual, Randal."

The Viper rubbed his face harshly, not being able to salvage his accusation. "I just wanted to apologize to her, Punk!" He shouted. "Jesus..."

"After all the shit you've done to her, Randal; you think she'll forgive you?" Phil asked, clearly appalled at the Viper. "Newflash, Orton: Tamara doesn't forgive anyone. Before she woke up, Eve and Victoria came to check up on her and maybe get the chance to apologize to her. They only helped her because she saved Barb who followed them in, saying that Tamara didn't forgive her but was willing to save her ass anyway because she knew what it was like to be bullied. Now tell me; do you think Tamara's really gonna forgive you?"

Randy let Phil's words sink in. Deeply. After a moment, he slowly shook his head. "I...I guess not. But...could you tell her anyway?" The look in the Viper's eyes was almost pleading. Almost.

Phil raised an eyebrow, his lips turning into a slight frown. He sighed. "Christ...I fucking guess. But hear me now, Randal. From this point on, you don't talk about Tamara, you don't look at Tamara, you don't even think about Tamara. One friendly gesture of carrying her unconscious body to the trainers didn't win you brownie points."

Randy sighed knowing that Phil was right and turned on his heel. He still felt like an asshole, but at least he apologized even if CM Punk told him it was futile.


"What do you mean I can't compete for a two weeks!" Tamara yelled as she shot up from the exam table. Dean the trainer jumped at the outburst of the feisty redhead and Phil had to hide a smile.

"Well, given you only have a minor concussion, Ms. Owens, you can make it even worse if you compete." Dean reasoned. "Mr. McMahon is giving you two weeks off to rest under my recommendation."

Tamara frowned, but knew that Vince and Dean were only looking out for her safety. She let out a groan. "Fine." She stood up slowly from the table, not wanting to make herself dizzy. "I need a smoke."

Phil chuckled. "You and your cigarettes, Tam-Tam." He walked over to her and picked her bridal style, much to the amusement of Dean and to the protest of Tamara. "C'mon, I'll take you back to your locker room."

Tamara let out a sigh in defeat. "Fine, Punk. But no funny shit, got it?"

Phil couldn't hide his smile as they walked down the hall. "Yes, ma'am."

As he continued down the hall, Tamara subconsciously laid her head against his shoulder. "Guess this means I'm going home for a while, huh?"

"Seems that way, Tamara." Phil spoke. "Where's home?"

Tamara let out a deep sigh and a small shrug. "Nowhere special."

"Nah, home's gotta be special. Chicago's special to me."

"I never really thought of anything as special, Punk." Tamara replied, flatly. "The only thing that means shit to me is my job." It was true. Her place in the WWE was her entire life, much like a certain leader of the Cenation...

"Tamara, I understand that you have a personal vendetta against the entire locker room, but you know that you can turn off the bitch mode when you're talking to me."

Tamara was silent the rest of the way to her locker room, not really knowing how to respond to that.


Phil ran a hand through his disheveled black hair as he sat in his apartment. He had an autograph signing in his hometown, so that's why he was home. Home for the week until Sunday. Life was good right now, he figured. Phil stretched his arms above his head before going to the kitchen and grabbing a sugar-free Red Bull out of the fridge. The Straight Edger didn't normally lounge around, but he had just gotten home so watching an hour or so of television wouldn't kill him.

Flipping on his flat screen and not finding anything particularly interesting, Phil decided on a music station. Tunes were always a good thing to have. His phone vibrated in his pocket, signally that he received a text. Phil took it out to see that it was from his sister. He smiled widely as he read the message.

I miss you, bro. When are you coming home? :(

Phil decided to play with his sister. Just a little. Sorry, squirt. I'm booked solid for a while. Signings and shit. He felt bad for telling her this, but he was going to surprise her sometime this week.

{insert sad face] I hate sharing you with the rest of the world. You're my brother, damn it! DX

Phil laughed out loud before responding. Lol, I know, kid. I know that your life must be miserable without me.

_ You have no idea. I'M DYING OVER HERE IN MY LONELY ABODE!

Phil chuckled at her response. Does Ma still think I'm getting weird?

What do you think, Punkers?

Phil laughed. I shoulda known. But hey, I've gotta go. I have a signing tomorrow. Love you, kid.

Grrr. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE FAMOUS? Anyways, I love you too, bro. Later.

Phil smiled before putting his phone away and settled back onto his couch with his Red Bull. He took a sip. Suddenly, he wondered what Tamara was up to right now. Phil shrugged and turned up the music on his flat screen.


The next morning, Phil was sitting at a table with many people lined up in front of him. Given that he loved his fans very, very much, he could tell that this was going to be one hell of a long day...no...week; and that he was going to have to have lots of patience with pushy fans and people who would want to gab with him for a minute or two.

Phil was wearing a Cubs baseball cap with one of his Aftershock tees under a zip-up hoodie, a pair of jeans and his sneakers. It made things a little sweeter that the Ramones were currently playing in the background. Guess the hosts of this little party wanted to keep the rebel of the WWE happy. A little smirk fought it's way to his lips at the thought.

"Oh my god, CM Punk!" A 20-something redhead breathed with a smile plastered on her face as she calmly walked up to the table. He had to admit that he was impressed with the way she was garbed out in his attire. Even her arms were taped with the 'X' on the back of each hand. Phil could tell that she was really trying to control herself as she shakily handed him what she wanted signed. "I hope you don't mind me saying that you're very handsome."

Phil couldn't help but chuckle as he scribbled his autograph on the small poster. He looked back up and handed it back to her with a smile. "I don't mind at all, sweetheart. Thank you." The girl took the poster with a fan-girl giggle and a 'thank you' and walked off. Thank Christ she had self control, he thought with slight amusement. The rest of the day seemed to go by pretty smoothly except for some guy who wanted Phil to yell 'You have a vagina!' at him. The Straight Edger had found it a tad amusing, but he shook his head with a smile and told him no.

It was after nine at night and Phil decided to take a walk under the stars. It was a pretty nice night as he threw up his hood and strolled casually down the sidewalk. He was so preoccupied at the familiar sights around him that he bumped into someone who seemed to have the same idea as him, only this person had their head down with their nose in their phone.

"Watch it!" The person snapped as she threw off her hood. Both persons eyes grew wide at the sight of each other.

"Tamara?" Phil asked, clearly gob-smacked. "What...What are you doing here? I thought you were resting at home?"

Tamara gave an awkward shrug. "This is home, Punk. I live here."


A/N: Heheheh. Don't you just love it when I do that? By the way, if you don't know the 'you have a vagina' bit, look it up on Youtube under 'Punk calls fan a homo'. Basically, it's him yelling at some guy about having a vagina or something. It was at a house show I guess. I'm thinking it was when he was still in The New Nexus..? I'm not sure. But I AM pretty sure that the fan was a plant. Anyways...Love youse!