I couldn't sleep so I figured I'd just spend all night writing. I'm actually really happy with the way this chapter turned out despite the lack of sleep so I hope you guys enjoy it too.

Saturday, May 3, 2014
Syracuse, New York

With only a day left until Extreme Rules, Jet really had to get it together.

The texts she had received all week had thrown her. She knew exactly who they were from as soon as the first was sent; he had been the only one to ever call her cupcake. It had never had any basis as a cutesy pet name but rather as just another way to belittle her. She had no idea why he'd decided on now of all times to get in contact with her again since she hadn't seen hide nor hair of him since that brief appearance in Glens Falls back in January. He must have had radar for her happiness because he had always picked the best times to drag her back down again. Unfortunately for him, his texts were nothing close to threatening as Jet had quickly come to a realisation after receiving the text: she wasn't scared of Kurt anymore.

She hated him with a burning passion, but there wasn't a shred of fear in her. She didn't know if it had just died with time or if her new love had assured her that she would never be in that situation again, but she knew that she enjoyed the feeling of freedom. The only thing that continued to eat at her was her silence on the matter. A few of them had come through during her days off in Chicago but she'd said nothing to Punk about it. He hadn't asked why her phone kept on buzzing, assuming it was AJ, so Jet didn't want to open that can of worms. While it was a conscious decision to keep it from him, Jet did it only because she knew it would make him angry with no outlet. She had no idea where Kurt was and even Punk, with all his resources and determination, wouldn't likely be able to find him. She figured the best thing to do was to keep to herself unless the situation escalated.

The problem with that, however, was that her relationship with Punk was rapidly making Jet more aware of how 'normal' couples shared problems. She really should have told him the second she read that first text but her old ingrained belief of going it alone were still holding her back. She convinced herself to do it over the phone. That way she wouldn't be able to see his face and get put off, and if he tried to interrogate her too much she could just hang up. It would make it easier if she told him now rather than waiting until she flew in to Chicago. She imagined he'd be annoyed enough at her waiting a week anyway. There was no need to exacerbate matters. She had to woman up and do it.

When AJ left the hotel room to get lunch with Emma, Jet collapsed down on her bed to make the phone call she was just a little bit dreading. Before she could talk herself out of it, she hit the call button and waited for him to answer. It barely took five seconds.

"Hey!"

Jet almost groaned. He sounded like he was in a great mood and she was going to ruin it. "Hey, are you busy?"

"Nope, just hanging out. You okay?"

She almost laughed at how easily he could tell something was bothering her. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

"Why does that sound like a lie to me?"

She sighed, considering the best way to put this without him going completely berserk. "I need to talk to you about something…"

"You make me nervous when you say things like that. What's going on?"

"I, er, I've been getting some texts."

There was a beat of silence on the other end of the call. "Right…"

"From him."

The silence extended again until Jet was half convinced that he had hung up or their connection had broken. She worried immediately that she'd done the wrong thing; she should have kept this to herself unless something else happened. She held her breath waiting for any kind of response from Punk.

"You still there?"

"Yeah… Colt's here," he explained and Jet understood his silence on the matter. He couldn't lose it or his best friend would want to know what was up. She knew he wouldn't betray her trust to tell Colt, regardless of how long they had been friends.

"It's nothing to worry about," she insisted quickly. "I just thought you should know."

"Nothing to worry about?" Punk repeated with an incredulous laugh. Nothing in his tone sounded amused. "That you can even think that is beyond belief. I'm coming out there."

"Don't," Jet warned. She remembered all too well the bullshit that had come of his last excursion out to a WWE show. She didn't need that on her plate when things were going so well with Steph's plans. "Everything's fine, I promise."

"I still want to come out there."

"Phil," Jet stated clearly, "it is fine. We can talk when I'm home on Wednesday."

Wednesday seemed too long away but it was better than having this conversation around all of her co-workers. AJ especially would want to know why Punk had made a special trip to New York and she was in no mood to divulge the secrets of her past to anyone else.

"Are you travelling with AJ?" he asked suddenly.

"Stupid question." When didn't she travel with AJ?

"I'd feel a lot better if you had Claudio with you or something."

If that would keep him from jumping on a plane, Jet had no problem tagging along with Claudio. "Alright, I promise I'll get him to drive with us. I will be his shadow for the next few days until I land at O'Hare, okay?"

"Okay," Punk agreed, sounding anything but okay. She hated to have put this worry on his shoulders. "Promise me you'll be safe."

"I'm always safe. Love you, Hunkasaurus."

Punk groaned. "What did I tell you about that nickname?"

"That you love it?"

"Think again, woman. You're lucky I love you too."

Jet smiled to herself just as the hotel room door opened, a loudly chatting AJ and Emma strolling in. "The girls are back so I should go. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"See you Wednesday. Remember your promise!"

"Yeah, yeah, I will."

Sunday, May 4, 2014
Extreme Rules
Izod Center – East Rutherford, New Jersey

Claudio rolled his eyes as Jet sat down beside him in the monitor bay. He loved the kid but she hadn't been out of his sight since they'd set off for New Jersey that morning. Jet had asked Claudio to ride with them under the innocent guise of "because you're my friend!" and now was just enjoying shadowing the man. Besides a brief moment of being side tracked by Dave, she had literally been attached to him since they got to the Izod Center.

"Is there any real reason you're following me around like a lost puppy?"

"Because I love you."

Claudio's eyebrow quirked up. "You're up to something."

"I resent that accusation. Is it so wrong to want to hang out with you?"

"When you're being that sweet, yes."

Jet huffed as she crossed her arms. "You're not being very nice today. Maybe I'll go hang with Dave instead."

Claudio's hand shot out, grabbing Jet gently around the wrist to keep her where she was. Regardless of how much Jet insisted she was comfortable with Dave since the Hall of Fame, there was something about the bigger man that rubbed Claudio the wrong way. He couldn't quite place his finger on what it was, but there was definitely something. Jet smirked and sat back down.

"I knew you loved me too," she declared victoriously, settling back to watch the pre-show.

Claudio disappeared not long after that since he was first up on the pay-per-view, wrestling Jack Swagger and Rob Van Dam. She wished him luck as he headed out and game him a victory hug on his way back to the locker room. She watched with some resentment as Seth Rollins stole the show with his dive off the balcony, and Bray Wyatt got a creepy kid involved in his planned destruction of John Cena. It sucked to have her moment after two pretty stellar matches because the crowd was never as into it as they should have been.

Jet sighed as she got to her feet and pumped herself up for the start of her new storyline. She watched with raptured interest as Paige defended the Diva's Championship against Tamina, getting a thumbs up from Joey Mercury a few minutes into the match. She nodded her understanding and made her way through to the curtain, waiting patiently. The one monitor there was being crowded around so Jet could only hear the noise of the match until she heard the bell. Paige was declared the winner and Jet got the final nod.

She burst through the curtain, pretty much sprinting down to the ring. The crowd began to mutter in surprise and, just as Paige raised her title in victory, she felt a clubbing blow across the back of her head. She hit the canvas, lifting her arms to protect herself. Jet laid into her, stamping her boots into any part of Paige's body that she could reach. The crowd didn't cheer, they didn't boo, they just stared at the scene as if they couldn't quite understand it. Finally the referee grabbed Jet around the waist, hauling her away from the fallen champion. Jet held up her hands to prompt the ref to let go. As soon as she was free she kicked Paige once more and the crowd finally started booing.

Jet smirked as she made her way back up the ramp but being on the fans' bad side was an experience she'd never had. Usually the foreigners – especially Europeans – were penciled in as heels just because it was so easy for them to pull the cultural superiority card on the American audiences. When Jet had arrived in the States, however, they'd decided she was way too adorable (their words, not hers) to try playing heel. Ever since then she'd just naturally been a face. Admittedly, she'd been sitting on the line between the two for a fair portion of her NXT career but this was the first time she'd ever fully crossed over to being the bad guy. Stephanie had insisted she could pull it off and if the boss believed in her Jet would put all her effort into proving her right. Besides, how hard could it be to piss people off?

Monday, May 5, 2014
Monday Night Raw
Times Union Center – Albany, New York

Two hours into Raw, Jet's phone finally rang. She'd tried to call Punk the night before but his phone had been off – an exceptionally rare occurrence for him – and all her attempted phone calls that morning had failed. She had started to worry that he had taken the news of Kurt's texts so badly that he had actually gone out to find him. She wouldn't put it past him. When she saw his name flashing up on her iPhone screen, she scrambled to answer it.

"Where the hell have you been, asshole?" she demanded.

She expected him to chuckle at her greeting but he sounded exhausted as soon as he spoke. "Sorry."

"That's not an answer."

"I know."

"Are you going to give me one?"

"I've been busy."

Jet actually bit down on her tongue to stop herself yelling things at him. She didn't want her colleagues hearing one side of an argument. "Busy, I wonder what that feels like," she muttered.

He of all people understood how busy she was on the road but she always made time for checking in with him. It was the best part of her day, in fact. Him going AWOL for two days was not good for her stress levels. She could understand that he was feeling all kinds of things after she'd told him the news but that didn't excuse him just blocking her out. She heard him sigh heavily over the line.

"Look I'm sorry, okay?"

"Okay." A half-hearted sounding apology was better than no apology at all. She tried to steer the conversation to easier ground. "Did you see me on the pay-per-view yesterday?"

"Sorry, I was watching hockey stuff. I'll turn Raw on now; when will you be on?"

Jet narrowed her eyes as his dismissal of Extreme Rules. He hadn't missed watching a single thing she'd been on, even with his animosity towards the company since he'd left. What the hell had he been doing? She started to understand that maybe this had hit him more than it had her. She pulled her phone away from her ear to check the time. "In about half an hour."

"I'm sure you'll be awesome." Even that sounded like he was just trying to appease her.

"Phil, are you okay? Like, really?"

"I'm fine."

"I'll be home soon. Do you want to talk then?"

Jet really didn't want to talk about it at all but it sounded as if Punk did. "No," he replied, surprising her. "There's nothing to talk about. Just get home safe, okay?"

To say she was confused with the conversation was an understatement. "Okay," she agreed reluctantly. "I should head around to gorilla now, in case they bump me up. See you soon."

"Okay. Hey Juliette, I love you."

That was the first sincere thing he'd said so far. "I love you too."

Jet shook her wrists as she waited for the final nod that she was about to be on. This next moment was an exciting one for her with all sorts of surprises coming the WWE Universe's way. The first one began just as Jet finished her mental warm up.

Sweat dripping down your neck
Thinking 'bout your tattooed knuckles on my thigh, boy
Cold shower, you've got no power to control how I make you my toy

Jet watched the monitor for a second, enjoying the confusion evident on the announce team's face.

"Er, we're not sure what this is, ladies and gentleman," Michael Cole said.

It had been Stephanie's idea to change her theme music, thinking she needed something new for her new character. Jet hadn't ever been particularly attached to her first music so she didn't take much convincing, and Steph's choice of new song was a pretty solid one. Jet gave it a little longer, waiting for Pat to give her the thumbs up.

I'm your dream girl
This is real love
But you know what they say about me
That girl is a problem
Girl is a problem
Girl is a problem, problem

Pat slapped his hand down on Jet's shoulder, pushing her towards the curtain. When she appeared to the crowd, she wasn't surprised to still hear them cheering for her. She knew one act of villainy wasn't usually enough to turn the fans against someone but she would definitely enjoy herself trying to get the crowd as riled as possible. Punk always said he loved playing heel so she was sure he'd give her some tips. She climbed into the ring, taking the microphone that had been left on the steel steps for her. As her new music died down, she turned to address the cameras and crowd.

"Ya know, all I've heard since last night is 'why Jet? Why did you attack poor Paige when her back was turned?' You all want to know why? Because I finally realised how unjustly I've been treated around here. Just in case you all forgot, just four weeks ago at Wrestlemania 30 I was in the match of my career. I came out of that match broken. I could barely walk to the back, I couldn't move without pain, and I've got a charming scar on my chin that'll stick with me forever. Then, the very next night, I came out here for a little victory moment. No one could begrudge me that, right? So there I was when someone I know quite well popped up. Me and Paige have history. She used that history to manipulate me into giving her a title shot, knowing I wasn't even close to being match-fit. And not a single person looked out for me. Not a single person said 'hey, we shouldn't let this go ahead'. Nope, a referee was sent down there and I was thrown to the metaphorical wolves."

Jet paused, letting the crowd murmur among themselves at the new accusatory tone to her.

"But thankfully, there is someone who is looking out for me now. There's someone who has been around this business a lot longer than I have, and knows every trick in the book to manipulate a person. I'm learning those tricks so that I'm not on the receiving end of them anymore. What I did to Paige last night was deserved. She manipulated me into losing my title. I don't need to manipulate her to get it back, I'll just beat her straight up. But, of course, none of this would be possible without the incredible tutelage of one very astute individual. So, I'm sure you'll all join me in welcoming him out here tonight."

There was barely a three second gap between Jet beginning a round of applause (which certainly didn't catch on with the audience) and the man himself stepping through the curtain to the raucous boos. Jet's applause picked up, beaming up as Paul Heyman began to make his way down the ramp, microphone in hand.

"Ladies and gentleman, my name is Paul Heyman," he began to the increased boos. He stepped into the ring and took up a position just a few feet from Jet. "Allow me to introduce you to the first and the most impressive Heyman Girl." He paused to glance over at her. "Girl okay?"

Jet nodded. "Fine by me." She didn't want to be a Heyman Guy. She didn't want to be lumped in with Brock Lesnar; she was infinitely cooler than him.

"Jet Madden has almost single-handedly revolutionized the Diva's division since her arrival less than a year ago. She has broken down doors and dragged you all along for the ride whether you wanted to go or not. And there is not a single one of you sitting here tonight, or any one of the millions at home who can make a genuine claim that they haven't enjoyed it. Despite this, my client has been on the receiving end of injustices, the most recent of which resulted in the loss of her hard earned and intensely defended Diva's Championship. I am here to make it clear that from now on Jet Madden has placed her trust in me to protect her best interests – "

Before Paul could finish, the screech at the beginning of Paige's music hit and the Brit stalked down to the ring, the title held over her shoulder. Jet pointed at it and muttered to Paul. He nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder to calm her. Paige climbed into the ring, her own microphone in hand.

"Jet, Jet, Jet, how long have we known each other? It's a good while now, right? In all that time I've never seen you go so far over the edge. I mean, Paul Heyman, are you kidding me? I didn't manipulate you into anything. You put the title up and I took an opportunity. You just don't want to admit that you made a mistake. You made a few of them, actually. Your first," Paige lifted up a finger, "was underestimating me the night after Wrestlemania. I've taken it to you more times than either of us can count so you really should have known better. Your second mistake was attacking me after my match last night. All that did was make me angry. Your third mistake was ever thinking you could trust a leech like Paul Heyman. You should learn from his reputation, Jet, because he will do to you what he's done to plenty of other people."

"What, lead them to history making accomplishments?" Jet cut in sarcastically. "That's kind of what I'm going for."

Paige rolled her eyes. "Losing this title has really thrown you, hasn't it? I used to think that even if we were each other's best competition we could still be civil because we understood each other. But you've lost me now. You're either bitter or crazy or some mixture of both."

"Actually Paige, you wanna know what I am?"

Not waiting for an answer, Jet swung with her microphone, crashing it into Paige's head. With her laid out on the canvas, Paul gave her a nod as a go-ahead, and Jet began to climb the turnbuckles. She balanced herself on the top rope and tried to remember the last time she'd tried to do the corkscrew shooting star press in a pair of jeans. She sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn't rip them down the seams as she threw herself into the air. The last time Paige had taken the Jetstream had been during Jet's convalescence in Florida after her hamstring injury. The surprised grunt from underneath her told Jet that Paige had forgotten how much the collision knocked the wind out of you.

Jet stood back up as Paul handed her the microphone back. "I'm a winner."

With equally devious smirks, Paul and his new Heyman Girl exited the ring, not sparing a look back at the downed Diva's Champion.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Chicago, Illinois

Jet had no idea what she was flying into when she landed in O'Hare. She had expected Punk to call her after Raw to tell her what he thought of her segment with Heyman but it seemed like they'd fallen back into radio silence. She contemplated trying to call him but she learned over the weekend that she just had to wait for him to do the reaching out. She was wishing more every day that she hadn't mentioned anything. The texts were still flying in and bothering Jet less and less each time, so telling Punk had only caused more problems. When he met her at the gate with his Cubs cap pulled low, he forced up a tight smile as he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

"I've missed you," she told him gently.

He nodded his concurrence but was still silent. She was inclined to bring up the obvious topic that was bothering him but he'd made it quite clear he didn't want to talk about it. The two of them walked out to his car in silence, Jet climbing into the passenger seat while Punk stowed her luggage in the trunk. She turned on the radio while she waited, smiling warmly when Punk got in. She was going to make this as normal as possible regardless of his mood. She was off until Monday and then she'd have a couple of US shows before a nearly two week long tour of Europe and she didn't want to go away with them in an awkward place. Punk pulled away from the curb with his face set into a harsh frown.

"Baby you're a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruise…" Jet sang along, nodding her head in time with the radio, staring out the window at the passing scenery.

"Turn it off."

She smirked, knowing how badly he hated country music. With a cheeky grin she leaned forward and turned the volume up. Just as she settled back into her chair to keep up her karaoke version, Punk's hand slammed onto the radio button to silence it. Jet jumped at the sudden movement, turning to look at his furious face.

"What the hell?"

"I told you to turn it off."

"You're getting pissed off at me because I didn't turn some music off? Are you serious?" She tried to keep her calm voice, knowing that both of them blowing up while they were driving would only end exceptionally badly.

"I'm not pissed off at you."

"Your tone definitely says otherwise."

Punk ground his teeth together, trying desperately to keep his cool. He really wasn't pissed off at her, he was pissed off in general. Livid was probably a more apt description. He closed his hands tightly around the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, He breathed out heavily and turned his head away from the road for a moment to look at her.

"I'm not," he assured Jet, his voice somewhat softer than it had been. "But surely you can understand why these last few days have been tough for me with the knowledge that a guy I would gladly remove from existence has been texting you."

Somehow that very threatening description sounded adorable to Jet. "This is exactly why I didn't want to tell you, I knew you'd have to deal with all this pent up frustration. You don't need to be angry, it's nothing. With our history, threatening texts are actually borderline sweet to be honest."

Jet's joke didn't seem to ease Punk's mood. The frown deepened, if anything. She supposed joking about a situation like that wasn't particularly appreciated. She let her smile drop into an awkward grimace.

"Look, we don't even know where he is, so there's nothing you could do anyway."

"You're sure you don't know where he is?"

Jet didn't like the slight disbelief in Punk's eyes. "What, you think I'm just keeping that tidbit to myself? He was living in Indiana when we were together but who knows what he's doing now? This is a big country, he could be anywhere."

"Yeah…" Punk stared at the road with nothing but fury on his face. He sighed and heard a similar sound from Jet's seat. Their reunions weren't supposed to be spent getting angry at each other. "Your heel turn was good," he murmured and Jet knew that was his way of apologising.

"Thanks. It was pretty much all Steph and Heyman."

"Don't kid yourself, you have to hold up your end."

"I was hoping you'd have some tips for me. I want all the little old grannies to hate my guts."

"Well, I'm the expert on that," he replied, a real smirk gracing his face for the first time since Jet had landed.

"I'm gonna make dinner," Jet announced as soon as Punk set her suitcases down inside the door. They'd had to employ some pretty intense special ops moves to avoid the absolute nutcases camped out around the house, but now that they were inside they could both relax. She hoped, anyway. She'd been thinking about it for a while and she had decided that she wanted to get some kind of real domestic life going with Punk. Whenever she was home they tended to just hang out on the couch on in bed, simply because they didn't have a lot of time to spend together. If they were both serious about having a proper future ahead of them, she wanted to get into it now.

Punk lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "You're going to cook? You never cook. You can't cook."

Jet looked affronted immediately. "I can! Okay, I'm no Gordon Ramsay but I can put something together. Whenever I'm home we either order in or I leave you to do everything; it's about time I pulled some kitchen weight."

Punk actually smiled and Jet was relieved to see that they were falling back into a normal routine. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck. "I don't mind. You work hard, I don't expect you to come here and run around after me."

Jet tapped his noise, twisting her head to catch his lips in a kiss. "You're going to make a wonder stay-at-home husband," she teased, drawing another grin out of him. "But really, it's hardly like I'm gonna put together a Michelin star meal. It will come as no surprise to you that my kitchen skills suck but I can make a mean pasta bake so sit your butt down and let me do it."

Punk held his hands up in surrender, moving to collapse onto the couch while Jet pulled her phone from her pocket, dropping it on the coffee table, before she strolled into the kitchen to get her ingredients together. He watched her curiously for a few moments, hoping she wouldn't burn down his house.

"You're sure you know what you're doing?"

Jet rolled her eyes at him. "It's a damn pasta bake Phillip, I am not that inept."

He returned to watching the television, glancing over every now and then to make sure everything was going well. He couldn't help smiling at the look of concentration on Jet's face as she measured out the milk for the sauce and added it to the butter. She took the pasta off the boil to mix it together, then began rooting through cupboards.

"Looking for something?"

"Where's the damn tuna?"

"Pantry. You're really not good at this stuff, are you?"

"Do you have to keep reminding me? You're not being nice right now Mister Brooks."

He winked at her but remained silent, letting her finish her work. After a brief fight with the can opener, she mixed the tuna in with her pasta and sauce then shifted it all to a baking dish and sprinkled some cheese on top. With a grin on her face she turned to face him, holding up the fruits of her labour.

"Look, see! I can do it!"

The pride on her face was adorable. "Congratulations. I'm sure it'll taste wonderful."

"It better. If it doesn't, you have to lie to me."

Like he'd tell her the truth. "It'll be delicious," he assured her.

Jet slid it into the oven and all but skipped over to the couch to drop next to him. She wrapped an arm around her waist and leaned in to nuzzle his neck. "You owe me a Disney movie later for being mean."

He chuckled softly. "Sure babe. Any one you want."

She turned her attention to the television. "How are the Hawks doing?"

The proud grin that Jet had been sporting just a few moments ago was now on Punk's face. He had been desperately trying to get her into his teams – especially since she made him watch her soccer team whenever they were on – and so far his efforts on the Cubs were going to waste. Jet had taken something of an interest in the Blackhawks, always making a point to check with him how they were getting on.

"Beat Minnesota Wild 4-1 on Sunday."

"That's good. Who do they play next?"

"Minnesota Wild."

Jet blinked. "After that?"

"Minnesota Wild," Punk repeated, enjoying the increasing frustration evident in his girlfriend. "I'll make it easier for you, we play them four more times."

"Wow, hockey is stupid sometimes."

He couldn't argue with that. He laughed, hugging her closer into his side just as her phone buzzed on the table. Jet leaned forward to look at the screen then rolled her eyes and sat back.

"Not getting that?"

"Nope."

Punk was immediately suspicious and wanted to grab the phone to see for himself. He knew she slap him upside the head for invading her privacy like that so managed to refrain from acting on it. Her phone buzzed twice more in quick succession but she didn't even move. Punk was itching to read the texts. The phone remained silent for fifteen more minutes while the couple watched the TV, letting Punk push it to the back of his mind. Jet glanced at the clock then untangled herself from him, heading for the kitchen. Just as she was turning off the oven, her phone buzzed again and Punk couldn't resist. He picked it up while her back was turned, her lock screen showing a whole list on unopened texts, some of them from three hours ago. He slid his thumb across the screen and tapped in the code he'd spied Jet using, ignoring the part of his brain telling him to stop.

Jet lifted the baking dish out of the oven with the mitts and breathed in deeply to inhale the smell. Just as she was about to turn around and present it to Punk, she heard an almost animal roar that made her jump out of her skin. The dish flew out of her hands, smashing all over the hardwood floor. The hot pasta sauce splashed over Jet's feet, making her jump away when she felt the burn. Her heart was thundering in her chest as she looked up and saw Punk staring at her with his fist closed so tightly around her phone that it was shaking. She could see her texts open on the screen and the burning on her feet was suddenly ignored.

"What are you doing?"

"This is sick," Punk replied, shaking the phone harder. "I'm gonna find him and I swear to God – "

"What are you doing looking through my phone?" Jet cut him off with more authority in her voice.

"That's your concern right now? This guy is sending you pictures of yourself from years ago and you want to know why I'm looking through your phone? Are you serious?"

Jet stalked over to him, snatching the phone from his hands and closing the texts. "You have no right to do that."

Punk's eyes almost bulged out of his head. He couldn't wrap his mind around how she could just stand there in front of him and not be repulsed by what was being sent to her. It had been hard enough for him to hear about what had happened to her, but now he had seen photographic evidence of it and he knew he'd never get that out of his mind.

Jet stood her ground, staring hard at him. She had stopped even opening Kurt's texts barely a day after he started sending them. She had briefly considered having her number changed but it would have caused so much hassle. She resorted to just mass deleting them at the end of the day and carrying on with her life, but she hadn't got around to deleting the ones she'd received today yet. She had only seen one of the pictures that he'd been sending since Monday, but it had been enough to make her feel ill. Seeing her younger self with bruises and blood over her face was horrifying, regardless of what Punk seemed to think of her reaction. Regardless of how it had made her feel, she wasn't going to let some old pictures ruin how well she was dealing with everything. She had deliberately not shared it with Punk to save him from having to see that.

"I have no right? I have no damn right to know what he's doing? You are unbelievable sometimes."

Jet dropped the phone onto the chair behind her and ran her hands over her face. "I really don't want to discuss this." She turned on her heel before he could stop her, heading back to the kitchen to deal with the mess.

Punk sighed as he fell back onto the couch, the photos still playing on his mind. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of anyone ever wanting to cause Jet deliberate harm. She was sweet and funny and so innocent. He looked over at her, watching her pick up the biggest pieces of glass to drop them in the trash, and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. Instead of trying to support her, he'd completely lost his rag and starting attacking the wrong person. He took a few deep breaths to cool himself down before making his way into the kitchen. He crouched down beside her and stilled her hands. Jet looked up at him, the tears in her eyes making his guilt double.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take that out on you but… it just made me so mad. I can't… the idea of you being hurt…" He couldn't articulate what he was thinking but Jet understood. It was the same feeling she got when she thought of something happening to him.

"I know. I only didn't tell you because I knew this would happen. Please just stop worrying. The photos aren't going to do anything to me. He's a desperate man looking for any way to hurt me and he's failing. Just… you can't go through my phone like that. You wouldn't like it if I did the same to you."

"No, I wouldn't. I'm sorry and I promise I won't do it again."

Jet nodded, accepting his apology. The two of them began cleaning their spoiled food but Punk's guilt was still eating at him. She had been so proud of this simple thing, so proud of her first time cooking for him, and he'd ruined that too.

"Hey, I'll finish cleaning this. You go pick a Disney movie and curl up in bed, I'll be there in a minute."

Her smile was enough to alleviate some of his guilt. "Are you sure?"

"Course I am. Go on."

Jet nodded, all too happy to stop picking up glass and pasta, and hurried to the bedroom to dig through the pile of Blu Rays she had left there. She grabbed one and put it in, stripping down to just her underwear and a vest as she pounced onto the bed. Punk appeared twenty minutes later, leaning on the doorframe to watch her. She was wrapped in the blanket she carried in her luggage everywhere, the one that was white and ridiculously fluffy, and she stared at the menu screen of Beauty and the Beast with childlike eagerness. When she caught sight of him she grinned and it seemed like everything else didn't matter, just for a moment. He made his way over, kicking off his jeans and shirt and tugging some of the blanket away from her.

Punk actually watched most of the film for the first time. Sure it wasn't his thing but it was kinda cute. Besides, if she could sit through UFC fights with him, he could stomach some Disney. Jet snuggled in closer to rest her head on his chest as she watched, gripping him tighter during a scene with wolves. He stroked her back lightly, reminding himself how perfectly fine she was right next to him. No matter what go sent over texts, she was fine.

"I'm that guy," Punk murmured as the tavern began to sing Gaston's song.

Jet snorted. "Yeah, okay. You're the Beast buddy."

She got more comfortable as the movie went on but Punk couldn't help from glancing at her now and then. He didn't know if she was being honest about the photos doing nothing to her, but her carefree smile as she watched told him that she was holding up okay. On one such check, Punk was surprised to see Jet's eyes closed. She was biting her bottom lip into her mouth and smiling gently, swaying softly to the music as the teapot started to sing. Her smile grew as the song went on and Punk couldn't help staring. When it finished and she opened her eyes, she caught him. He didn't bother looking away.

"Why are you watching me?"

"Because you're cute."

She took that as a decent enough answer, smirking to herself as she snuggled even closer. Both of them were silent as the movie drew to a close but Punk couldn't stop his brain whirring. The images were still playing on him and he knew they wouldn't stop until he could make sure that this guy never had another chance of communicating with Jet. If it was the last thing he did, he'd make sure she was safe.

So, plenty happening this chapter. Yeah, yeah, I know you guys saw the Heyman thing coming but we've all got some room for cliche plotlines, right? Punk's not taking the Kurt deal too well (not that anyone can blame him), and just what was he up to while not answering calls?

I'd love to hear your feedback, it makes me smile.