Triple H and Punk waited around the corner for Miz and Truth to enter the arena. Once their music cued up they took their places at the arena entrance. Punk came out first. He took a seat indian style in the corner and waited while Triple H made his way to the ring. Triple H did his usual shtick with spitting the water and Punk quickly realized that his choice of waiting area was a bad one when he was sprayed with water and spit. They had better win the match to make being spit on by Triple H worth it.
Punk started off the match against Miz. Punk and Triple H both slapped Miz and the humiliation was enough to drive Miz to tag out. Punk went for the tag and got slapped across the chest instead of his extended hand. Oh yeah, that motion boded so well for the success of their alliance.
As the match progressed he and Triple H began working better as a team. In the early goings they seemed to be owning their opponents pretty decisively. They even took a page from Miz and Truth's book and took every opportunity to double team them. Eventually both sides settled into the match and Miz and Truth were doing everything possible to keep Triple H in their side of the ring making a tag impossible.
Eventually Triple H made the tag and Punk took out his frustrations about having to sit on the sidelines for so long. He flew into the ring, taking on both Miz and Truth at the same time, eventually Truth bailed out of the ring only to find himself being beat down around ringside by Triple H.
He was owning Miz in the ring when he heard the boo's start to catch around the arena. He had heard that sound so often these days that he knew it only meant one thing, outside interference was imminent. He turned his back on Miz. He looked to the outside only to see Kevin Nash punch Triple H in the head. He hated to make Triple H the sacrificial lamb but while Nash was busy he had the chance to end this match. He set Miz up for the GTS, only to have Truth interfere. He looked for the official but he was caught up in the action outside the ring and not what was going on inside the ring like he should be.
Miz and Truth took advantage of the official's distraction and Miz and Truth performed their finishing maneuvers on him. He was stunned and before he could even register it, he had been pinned. He rolled outside the ring, and while he wasn't able to offer the assist he could hear the action in the ring. By the reaction he could hear from the crowd he knew that Triple H was on the receiving end of whatever Nash was dishing out.
Punk made his way backstage and waited for Triple H by the arena entrance. He looked at the monitor to see the replay of what had taken place in the ring while he was recovering on the floor. Either Nash was trying to break Triple H's neck or he no longer had the ability to perform the Jackknife Power bomb correctly.
Triple H eventually made his way backstage holding his neck.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm going to be fine. It's Nash that's going to find himself in a world of pain," Triple H said sadistically. With one look from his tag team partner he knew that making Nash pay for his interference was going to be the sole business of The Game.
Punk went to the locker room and showered, changing into his street clothes and taking his place next to Melina and Morrison in the monitor bay. They had obviously returned from their little interlude. He looked at the monitor to find Big Show vs. Mark Henry already in progress. He was shocked to hell along with the rest of the roster when the two big men performed a superplex that collapsed the ring. Laurinaitis made his way to the ring with Teddy Long. It took quite some time to get the two obviously injured men out of the ring.
He was shocked when Laurinaitis announced that the Last Man Standing match was going to take place even though the ring was in shambles. Del Rio looked angry that they were being made to wrestle in such a situation. John seemed like he couldn't care less. That was quite an indication of John's mental state.
Punk could barely watch as del Rio moved John under one of the collapsed ring posts and then jumped on it, driving it into John's sternum. John recovered around the count of 7, only to be charged by Rodriguez trying to interfere in the match once again.
The action spilled out of the ring into the ringside area. Punk knew from experience that the ringside is where the most damage could be done. Punk tried to avert his eyes as they made their way into the backstage area that was filled with things that could be used as weapons. They moved toward a set for backstage interviews and del Rio pulled the entire set down on top of John. There was no way that John was going to recover from that.
John was back on his feet at 8 but del Rio was all over him. They made their way back into the arena with del Rio throwing John through one of the V's that made up the arena entrance area set. They fought their way down the ramp back to ringside. John performed the AA on del Rio putting him through the Spanish announce table while standing on top of the steel ring stairs.
It looked like it was the end of del Rio until Miz and Truth came running into the ring, starting to beat John down. The official's attention was on the interference and not del Rio unconscious outside of the ring. The official could have counted to 15 he took so long to actually do his job.
Both men recovered before the count of ten, only for del Rio to hit John in the head with his Championship belt. John was counted down. Del Rio had won the match.
John finally recovered at looked at del Rio backing up the ramp with the Championship in his hands. All Punk could say was that John looked completely lost. Not so long ago Punk would have met John at the arena entrance and they would have left together, Punk trying his damndest to make John smile again. It killed him that this wasn't his job anymore. He looked around the monitor bay to see if Hardy was the one rushing off to take care of John now but Hardy was nowhere to be seen.
Punk grabbed his things and returned to his hotel. Walking through the lobby he glanced at the bar and saw Jeff Hardy. He saw red. John was in serious need of some help and his boyfriend was in the bar. The closer Punk got to Hardy he could tell that Hardy had been drinking for some time. It was amazing that he was still able to sit up; he was swaying quite a bit.
"What the fuck Hardy! John has a last man standing match and you cut out on the pay-per-view early so you could come drink your ass off. What kind of fucked up boyfriend are you?"
"I'm actually no one's boyfriend at the moment but you don't have to be committed to someone to get the things you want from them," Hardy said with a sickening smile. "And anyway, as I'm sure you joyfully noticed, I lost my match too."
"You tapped after 20 minutes in the ring. John got thrown through multiple parts of the set. I think his match and health is much more important than yours."
"I don't consider anything more important than me."
"I guess it was too much to hope for that in the time you were gone you would have become less of a jerk but you're still the same junkie asshole that you were before you left. I'm going to throw one hell of a party when you get suspended for a wellness violation."
"You can take your self-righteous straight edge lifestyle and shove it up your ass, but that's your problem isn't it. Are you missing your precious John? You should have seen the look on your face when you walked into that hotel room. No amount of physical pain I could inflict could equal that fucking devastated look on your face. I took everything away from you and I can assure you that it felt so fucking good."
"Shut your fucking mouth before I slap the taste out of it."
"I'd love for you to try. We're not in WWE territory anymore. You lay a hand on me in public and I'll have you in cuffs for assault so fast it would make your head spin, and that's not even counting what Laurinaitis would do to you. You took away my career and I would love to see him end yours just as quickly."
"At some point in the near future we are going to end up in the ring together and I can guarantee you that I'm going to fucking end you," with that Punk turned on his heel and headed towards the elevators.
Once Punk had returned to his hotel room, he flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling. His little talk with Hardy was enough to make him want to tear his hotel room apart stick by stick. He had to think of something else, anything else, that would prevent him from going back down to that bar and kicking the shit out of Hardy, damn the consequences. He turned his mind to the state of his career in the WWE. There were more than enough fucking problems there to keep his mind off Hardy.
This was his third loss in a row as far as pay-per-views were concerned. While with John the prospect of winning the Championship seemed secondary in his life behind his relationship with John. Now that John was gone and moved onto someone else it left a huge hole in his life. Like most people he needed to fill that hole with something else, mainly work. Although these losses seemed to place him as far away from a Championship as possible, he knew that there had to be a way back in. He had never gotten his one-on-one rematch after being cashed in on. With Laurinaitis in charge getting that rematch seemed extremely remote. There was only one way to recapture the elation he felt at Money in the Bank, he was going to have to talk his way into a title shot with the WWE Universe at his back.
It took a long time but Punk finally nodded off. He was awoken by his cell phone going off. It was a call from Randy and it was 3AM.
"This better be fucking important," Punk answered, barely awake.
"I need you to come to my room, there's a problem," Punk got Randy's room number and pulled on some clothes hurriedly.
He knocked on Randy's door and Randy answered the door looking very haggard. Punk stepped into the room and he could hear the sound of retching coming from the bathroom.
"It's John. I couldn't sleep so I went down to the bar for a drink. When I got there Hardy was pouring shots down John's throat. John fell off his chair; he was too drunk to even hold himself up. I wasn't going to leave him with that jerk off Hardy so I picked him up and brought him back here. He's been throwing up for the last two hours, crying on and off. He's been saying some things that worry me, particularly about you. Whatever is going on with Hardy I don't think it's what it appears to be."
"So you called me so I could make it worse…"
"I called you because I know you're the only one that can talk him down enough so that he can just pass out."
"I haven't had much experience lately in dealing with drunk people. I'll probably end up going on some straight edge rant about the evils of alcohol."
"This is about John, I'm pretty positive that you'll be able to keep your messiah like speeches in check."
Punk walked into the bathroom and John had his hands folded over the toilet seat with his head resting on them facing away from the door.
"Randy, I think I'm dying."
"You're not dying. You're just paying the price for trying to drink yourself to death."
John's head popped up and he was up on his knees, with his arms wrapped around Punk's middle burying his head in Punk's stomach. He had moved with far more speed than an injured, drunken man should possess.
"Phil, please, you've got to love me again, if you don't I think I'll die," and with that John started crying again.
"John, you're drunk. Get up and let's get you in bed."
"No! I'm not letting go until you say that you love me. I still love you; I'll never love anyone but you."
Punk tried to unwrap John's arms from around his middle, but even in John's inebriated state, his arms were impossible to pry off.
"It's all lies, all of it, I promise."
"John, please, get up so we can get you in bed."
"No! Not until you say that you still love me."
Punk was torn. It wouldn't be a lie to say that he still loved John, but it would kill him to say those words then have to see him at Raw tomorrow with Jeff Hardy glued to his side. John started crying harder and Punk could feel his heart break open.
"John, I still love you…"
John jumped to his feet and tried to kiss Punk but he turned his head away. He wasn't going to let John break his heart anymore tonight.
"Come on; let me help you to bed."
"Yes, Phil, yes, whatever you want."
Hearing those words come out of John's mouth after such a long time was devastating and Punk could feel a few tears slide down his cheek. Punk wiped off his face, helped John up, and guided him into the living room where Randy was sitting on the sofa. He had his head buried in his hands. He looked up at Punk with such a look of pain that Punk knew that Randy had heard every word said in the bathroom.
"Let me help you with him, he's damn lucky I have a suite tonight or I would have let him sleep on the bathroom floor," Randy looped John's other arm around his neck and helped guide John to the other bedroom. "Let me go get some water and aspirin. Get him to take them with all the water so he doesn't feel like death warmed over tomorrow. We have an early flight to Austin in the morning for Raw."
They laid John down and Randy left to get the water and aspirin. John grabbed Punk's hand and held it to his chest. Randy returned and looked at the situation Punk had found himself in. Randy looked Punk in the eye with a look that could only be described as empathy.
"I'll leave you two alone, yell if you need me," and Randy left, leaving the door open a crack.
"John, I need you to take these pills and drink all this water."
"Only if you say that you'll stay with me."
Punk realized that he had never really known true weakness until this moment.
"Okay, I'll stay, but water first."
John took the pills and drained the bottle of water, and then he looked up at Punk, his eyes still shiny with tears. Punk laid down on his side, his back to John. Hopefully in this position it would make the situation a little more bearable. John wasn't having it though. He spooned up behind Punk, throwing an arm and a leg over his side, burying his head in Punk's neck.
"I missed you so much Phil."
Punk started shaking with the effort to hold himself together. Punk knew John had finally fallen asleep when the grip John had on his body slackened. Punk unwound John's arm and leg from around his body and stood up, pulling the covers over John's sleeping form.
Punk left Randy's room and returned to his own, a complete emotional mess. Although Punk usually didn't take the ramblings of drunk people too much to heart, he couldn't help but hope that what John said that night was the truth.
There was no way that Punk was going to sleep tonight so he left his room and decided to walk the streets of San Antonio until the sun came up. After walking for a while he passed a bus bench and did a double take. Triple H was sitting on the bench. Punk took a seat beside him.
"If the McMahon's are forced to take the bus these days I better start looking for another job."
"It kills me to say this but I've never been happier than right now to hear your sarcastic quips."
"If I asked you if you wanted to talk about it would you Pedigree me on this bus bench?"
"It's Kevin. I just can't reconcile the Kevin tonight with the Kevin that has been my friend for over a decade."
"Not that I can know for sure but it's probably the job. I know I've lost and gained friends more than I can count because of this job. Are you okay; you looked like you broke your neck the way you landed after than power bomb."
"One of the doctors gave me a painkiller, I'm not really feeling the injury right now but I know it's there. By the way, after I talked Stephanie down from finding Kevin and beating him to death with a baseball bat I talked to Vince. He still pretty much hates your guts but he cares more about the success of the WWE than his personal feelings. Laurinaitis should be getting a call in the morning. Why are you out roaming the streets?"
"It was a trifecta of horrid events. First I had it out with Hardy, then I started thinking about the dead zone of my career, and then I had to deal with an emotional and drunken John."
"I know it doesn't make me much of a competitor but I could give a shit about losing that match tonight. There are much more important things going on besides Miz and Truth."
"Agreed. Though it looks like they've set their sights on John instead."
"Best of luck to Cena then. Let's get back to the hotel before we get mugged or something that would do wonders for both of our careers. Also, this conversation never happened."
AN: I'm going to have to think really hard about extending the angst or sparing us anymore pain over our boys. I'll probably have to write happy and sad on two sheets of paper and then pick one out of a hat. That probably says a lot about my creative process, none of it good. Thank you again for the great reviews.
