Author's note: I regret that this took so long, but I've been doing over 60 hour weeks at work leaving me with little time and exhausted. Hopefully things will calm down now. Thanks for the overwhelming response I got for the last two chapter. Humbled!
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Don't worry about a thing
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright
Singin' don't worry about a thing
'Cause every little thing is gonna be alright

Feed up, tired and sick of this bloody song here I am stuck in the back seat of Stu's rental whilst him and Nev sing along like idiots. I didn't even wanna go to Philly in the first place; all I wanna do is go back to Orlando and sulk until I'm allowed back at work. And all I want to do now is sleep.

'Come on, pet sing along!' Nev hollered from the front seat.

'I'm not in the mood.' I grumbled, staring out the window.

'Oh cheer up, love.' Stu chuckled as he drove.

'Yeah Georgie, how long is this sulking gonna last, pet?' Nev winked to my utter annoyance.

'Screw you, guys. I thought you were supposed to be supportive.' I pouted, folding my arms across my chest and resumed position of staring at the dreary weather out the window.

'We are!' Stu protested as he turned a corner.

'Yeah it's just that this misery routine is getting a bit stale, like.' Nev chuckled as I kicked the back of his seat in response.

'Well excuse me for having feelings.' I muttered.

'Relax, pet. Join us. Sing Bob Marley!' Nev sang as he turned up the radio on full blast.

'I'll pass thanks.'

Rise up this mornin'
Smile with the risin' sun,
Three little birds
Each by my doorstep

'Come on, Georgie!' Stu laughed as him and Nev carried on their singing.

Singin' sweet songs
Of melodies pure and true,
Sayin' this is my message to you-ou-ou

At that moment Nev turned round to face me wearing the most ridiculous expression on his face. He pointed in my direction whilst sticking his tongue out and wiggling his eyebrows. I couldn't resist the smirk that crept from my lips.

'Oh look, she's smiling.' Stu grinned at me through the rear view mirror

'Am not.' I huffed as my smile got wider.

'Come on pet, join us!' Nev ordered as I took a deep sigh and swallowed my pride, and sang along with the boys.

Don't worry about a thing
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright
Singin' don't worry about a thing
'Cause every little thing gonna be alright
Don't worry-


Georgie woke with a halt, jumping up from her laying position and looking around her surroundings frantically. The room was dark and clammy, and felt unfamiliar and foreign. She was still feeling groggy and confused by her dream of Nev, a memory of yesterday morning before all the horror began. Her eyes found a figure sitting on a chair beside her. She squinted as she made out the familiar dark hair and frown on his lips. Punk.

'Hi.' He murmured.

She sat back down, her back to the headboard as she looked straight ahead. She was breathing deeply, trying to regain composure as he spoke again.

'Were you having a nightmare?'

'No-no.' She stuttered as she looked down at her hands.

'Sorry, it's just that you were saying Nev's name in your sleep.' He frowned scratching his chin, his expression full of concern.

'It wasn't a nightmare.' She whispered quietly.

Punk sighed as he felt the pang in his chest tighten at her response and her tragic eyes. She sat up and glanced around the room. Although looking desperately sad she was far more responsive than earlier.

'What time is it?' She yawned.

'1.30 in the morning.'

'How long have I been out for?' She frowned as Punk let out a deep sigh.

'Like 10... 11 hours. They... the doctor gave you sedatives.' He muttered with downcast eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.

'Oh yeah. Where am I?' She croaked.

'My hotel room.' He answered, observing her carefully.

'I should probably get back to my room, let you rest.' She mumbled, pulling the duvet off her and making a move to leave.

'You're not going anywhere.' Punk spoke abruptly making Georgie stop her moments. She looked at him seated in the chair beside the bed, seeing him in the dark. He looked tense and the air around them felt thick enough to suffocate.

'I brought your suitcase.' He coughed, nodding his head towards her suitcase that was standing upright near the front door. She gulped at the gesture, swallowing a lump in her throat.

'You need to sleep. You're not going to get that sitting there watching me.' She spoke quietly, chewing on her bottom lip as he continued to stare at her with darkened eyes.

'I'm not going anywhere.' He insisted firmly, but offering her a croaked half smile.

She settled back in the bed, looking up for guidance. She was still slightly disorientated from her dream and felt groggy from the sedatives. A wave of fatigue hit her like a tonne of bricks making her unconsciously yawn loudly.

'Go back to sleep. It's gonna be a long day tomorrow.' Punk warned, with his eyes never leaving her.

She sighed, closing her eyes as her head hit the pillow. Punk visibly relaxed in his chair, almost missing the last pained words she spoke before falling asleep.

'I wanna sleep. In my dreams he's still alive.'


11 hours earlier

'I got you.'

Punk whispered reassurances in Georgie's ear as he carefully carried her to his room bridal style. He effortlessly unlocked his door whilst holding a crying Georgie in his arms before carefully lowering her shaking body on the bed.

'We need to get you out of these clothes.' He murmured eying up her blood stained white dress. The blood had not only splattered her dress, but there were marks on her arms and up her neck. It looked like she'd been stabbed, but she was physically unharmed.

'I need to keep them. The police want them for evidence. For the b-blood.' She stammered, her hands shaking.

He squeezed his eyes shut, finding the sight before him unbearably painful. He swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking in a broken voice.

'Ok. I'm gonna run you a bath, alright?'

He waited for a response, but didn't get one. The sounds of her soft broken cries broke his heart just as hard as her piercing wailing. He sighed, heading towards the bathroom and proceeded to run her a bath. As he ran his hand through the water, testing the temperature when the sound of sniffing stopped him in his tracks. He turned to find Georgie standing in the doorway, trembling furiously. He immediately leapt up to face her, gently taking her elbows with his steady hands and guiding her to sit on the lid of the toilet seat.

'Just take a seat right here.'

With shaky knees she lowered herself on to the seat, sitting on her hands to stop herself from shaking. He felt helpless watching her suffer, and forced himself to turn away from the heartbreaking sight.

Satisfied that the bath was the correct temperature, he turned off the taps and bowed his head letting out a huge sigh. He could hear the cries of Georgie getting louder and he immediately rushed towards her, kneeling before her shaking body.

'I'm right here. Shhhhhh. I'm here.' He cooed, pulling her in for a tight embrace. He held her securely as she trembled violently in his arms.

'He-he's dead, Phil.' She cried in his chest.

'I know, sweetheart.' He sighed in her hair.

'He died right in front of me.' She spluttered as he felt his shirt becoming damp with her tears. He stroked her hair before pulling away and giving her a sot kiss on her forehead.

'Come on, hold on to me.' He whispered as he took her arms and wrapped them around his neck. He carefully picked her up again as he carried her to the tub and gently lowered her to the edge.

'I'm gonna take care of you.' He promised as he caressed her cheek.

With trembling hands she struggled with the hem of her dress, trying to pull it away from her clammy skin.

'Here.' Punk offered as he took the dress in his hand and gently lifted it over her head, undressing her like a child and leaving her in her underwear.

'I'm gonna take this and put it in a bag outside.' He spoke referring to the dress as he carefully folded it in his hands as she remained silent.

'I'll be just out there.' He pointed in the direction of the hallway before giving her a once over and leaving the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He waited for several moments and let out a sigh of relief as he heard the faint sound of water splashing.

He contemplated what to do next, when the sound of his door knocking broke his thoughts. He groaned in annoyance as stormed towards the door, swinging it open and frowning at the sight of Hunter and a man he vaguely recognised standing before him.

'Yeah?'

'How is she?' Hunter asked with genuine concern.

'How'd you think, man? She's full on traumatised. Can you hear that? I don't know what to do?' Punk pulled his hair in despair as Georgie's cries got louder. Punk clenched his fists, as the unknown man coughed making the wrestler jerk his head up and narrow his eyes.

'Who are you?'

'Phil, this is Doctor Reece. He's got something that might help Georgie.' Hunter explained passively, although mentally preparing herself so confrontation.

'What?'

'Tranquilisers. Specifically to be treated for those suffering from trauma and anxiety. Here's two to be taken orally.' Doctor Reece spoke stoically, handing out two small tablets for Punk.

'No.'

'Phil...'

'Hell no, Hunter! The last thing she needs is to be drugged up like a friggin' zombie!' Punk exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air and knocking the doctor's hand away in the process.

'I know this goes against your Straight Edge lifestyle-' Hunter appeased with open palms, using the most passive body language he was capable of.

'It's got nothing to do with that...' Punk growled.

'Hey, I get it. I'm not a believer in the whole prescription drugs either. But it sounds like she could really use this right now.' Hunter urged, attempting to place a hand on Punk's tense shoulder.

'I'll take care of her.' Punk insisted, clenching his fists.

'Listen. Tomorrow is going to be just as gruelling if not worse than today. She has to endure an extensive interview with the police. The press are all over this. Then there's the issue with her family who no doubt know about this and can't get hold of her. I'm afraid the nightmare isn't over for her, and she's going to need plenty of sleep if she's going to get through this. Our support won't be enough.' Hunter insisted.

Punk could feel the resistance slowly leaving his body as Hunter's words sunk in. He knew deep down that Hunter had a point and hated to admit it.

'I swear I wouldn't prescribe her with anything that would cause her any harm.' Doctor Reece promised softly.

Punk inwardly sighed as he sucked in his bottom lip and paced the area around him. Hunter and Doctor Reece looked on as he battled in his head, before Punk came to an abrupt halt and turned back towards the two.

'Fine. But I'll give it to her.' Punk muttered as he sighed in defeat.

'Phil...'

'I don't like this, Hunter. But I understand, alright?' He sighed.

Hunter frowned as he looked into Punk's pained and haunted olive eyes. He knew the man was telling the truth.

'Yeah. Listen man, if you need anything...' Hunter offered.

'I know.' Punk nodded.

The two had a moment, giving each other a knowing look before Doctor Reece offered the pills to Punk. He sighed as he took them, whilst Hunter cleared his throat.

'Ok. I'll leave you to it.'

The two walked away as Punk gently shut the door. He stared down at the two tiny white pills in the palm of his hand and gulped. He walked to the kitchen counter, placing the pills on the side next to a glass of water. He made his way to the bathroom, knocking gently on the door.

'Georgie.'

He waited several moments, but there was no response. He inhaled deeply before slowly opening the door. The sight before him saddened him deeply. She was in the tub, crying and furiously scrubbing her skin with a sponge.

'I can't get clean. The blood won't come off.' She whimpered as she scrubbed her neck so ferociously it was looking red raw.

'Hey, hey it's off. Here.' Punk soothed as he took the sponge from her shaking hands and softly caressed her sore skin. The traces of blood were long gone, but it was evident that she was deeply traumatised.

'Can you stand?' Punk asked gently as he lifted her chin with his finger. She silently nodded in response. Punk tenderly lifted her from under her arms as she helped him, using her own weight to life herself from the bath which was a good indicator that she wasn't completely catatonic despite being unresponsive earlier.

'There we go.' He spoke almost to himself as he gently guided her out the bath until she stood nude and shivering on the bathroom floor.

'I'm gonna dry you off so you don't catch a cold ok?' He spoke as he helped her into a soft hotel robe, covering her modesty. He grabbed the nearest towel and proceeded to dry her dripping hair. He gently dried her hair between the towels, so that her hair was slightly damp but not dripping. When finished with her hair he took another towel and knelt door before her. He softly lifted her ankle from the bath math and dried her foot, working her way up her leg as she stood wordlessly letting him dry her. When her leg was dry he proceeded to do the same with the other, with only the sound of her sniffing filling the air.

Satisfied that she was dry he effortlessly picked her up in his arms and made his way towards the bedroom, gently placing her on the bed before walking to the kitchen to fetch the pills and water. He held the pills in his hand again before storming into the bedroom before he had a chance to change his mind.

'I know it's still day time, but I think you should go to bed and try and get some sleep.' He suggested as he walked into the room noting that she hadn't moved position since he put her on the bed.

'I can't.' She croaked.

'I-I got these for you. They'll make you go to sleep and feel better. The doctor gave them to me so they're legit. I got two here, you wanna take them?' He asked offering out his hand.

She nodded numbly before taking a trembling hand and picking up the pills from his palm. Without a second thought she popped them in her mouth and accepted the glass of water Punk offered to her. After swallowing the pills she handed back the water to him which he placed on the bedside table.

'You need your rest, sweetheart.' Punk cooed as he stoked the hair out her forehead. Although she'd stopped crying, her eyes were red and swollen and her cheeks were tear stained.

'You're staying here with me, ok?' Punk asked softly yet firmly as he walked towards his case, pulling out his Ramones t-shirt.

'I got this you can sleep in. Want me to put it on for you?' He asked as she weakly nodded.

He sighed inwardly as he gently pulled the robe off her trembling body so she was sitting there naked and exposed before him.

'Ok, lift your arms.' He instructed gently which she obliged. He carefully lifted the baggy t-shirt over her head and pulled down to cover her exposed body. She didn't say a word throughout as he chucked her discarded robe on a nearby chair and gave her a tender kiss on the cheek.

'You ready for bed?' He asked, taking her hands in his.

'Don't leave me.' She pleaded, her bottom lip trembling, He sighed, squeezing her hands in reassurance before taking a seat on the bed next to her.

'I'm not going anywhere.'


A few of hours later Georgie was out for the count. She hadn't moved in some time, only the sound of her soft breathing giving any indication that she was still alive. Punk didn't want to leave her however she needed her luggage for the morning since she had to make a detailed statement with the police. Confident that she wasn't going to wake, he silently slipped out his room and headed downstairs to see if Stu was around.

Fortunately he didn't have to look far, as he spotted Stu walking through the lobby of the hotel. With a bottle of white wine in hand, he walked slowly with slumped shoulders and red swollen eyes. He looked up to see Punk approaching him and stopped to acknowledge him.

'Hey.' Punk greeted softly.

'How's she doing?' Stu cleared his throat and asked with concern.

'Not good. She's out for the count but she's pretty traumatised. I'm just wondering if I can pick up her case from your room so she has it when she wakes up.' Punk asked as he rubbed the sore spot on the back of his neck.

'Sure, I'll bring it to you. What's your room number?' Stu asked.

'49.'

An awkward silence descended upon them as Stu kept his eyes lowered whilst Punk's wondered around the lobby. The air around them was thick and filled with emotion as the two men struggled to comprehend the day's events.

'So... how are the others?' Punk asked quietly.

Stu looked over Punk's shoulder, avoiding his gaze. He let out a long sigh whilst shrugging his shoulders.

'Well...er... Barri is absolutely gutted. They've been best mates since NXT. He can't face anyone right now but Regal is on watch, looking after him.' Stu coughed as looked back at Punk, looking full of sorrow and sympathy.

'How's Saraya?'

'Not great. This is for her.' Stu mumbled holding up the bottle of wine. 'She hasn't stopped crying since she heard. I'm just hoping this sends her to sleep so she doesn't have to watch me packing all of Nev's stuff up.'

'Fuck. This is awful.' Punk croaked, rubbing his face with his hand.

'I know. Have you heard that they've named the shooters and why they did it?' Stu asked, Punk shaking his head in response.

'No, I've been with Georgie the whole time and I've kept the news off. Didn't wanna upset her even more if that's possible.' He gulped, thinking about the state she was in earlier.

'Well it was two kids that did this. One 15 and the other 16. They shot up the school because they were both being bullied, and what better day to do it on our Be a Star campaign?' Stu winced, feeling nauseous at the thought.

'Jesus...' Punk whispered in disbelief.

'Been planning it for weeks apparently. No-one knows if anyone specifically was a target or whether they were just shooting at random.' Stu spoke with his voice trailing off at the end.

'How many fatalities?' Punk asked warily.

'Including Nev? Two teachers and four kids. The youngest was only 12.' Stu sighed shaking his head.

'Shit.' Punk muttered. His thoughts went back to the shooters who caused all this grief and carnage, and his fist clenched by his sides.

'What about them? Did those two killers make it out alive?'

'No. The bodyguard shot them both. He took a bullet too, but I think he's gonna be ok.' Stu said as he forced a smile.

Punk ran both hands over his face better letting out a low exhale.

'I-I just can't get my head around this.' He croaked as Stu nodded in response.

'I know. I'll have more answers tomorrow when the police interview me. Nev... Nev's body needs formally identifying. They wanted Georgie to do it, but I said I would.' Stu coughed as the colour drained from his face. Punk swallowed, his throat feeling dry and his stomach unsettled.

'That er... That's gotta be difficult for anyone to do.' He stuttered, feeling enormous sympathy for the man in front of him.

'Yeah. But whatever I've been through today pales in comparison to Georgie. She watched him die. She doesn't need to endure anymore.' Stu croaked as his voice cracked.

'I know.' Punk whispered sadly.

They both stood in silence, their hearts heavy as they thought about the day they just had. The atmosphere around was thick, becoming unbearable as they both stood with nothing left to say. Finally Stu broke the silence.

'Anyway, I gotta go check on Saraya. I'll pop round in 10 with Georgie's suitcase.'

'Thanks, man.' Punk spoke appreciatively.

'Sure.' Stu nodded before heading in the direction of his hotel room.

Punk proceeded to do the same, only pausing as he walked pass the hotel bar. He gave the bar a quick glance before stopping in his tracks at the sight of the lone figure sitting on a barstool with slump shoulders nursing a drink. It only took a moment for Punk to recognise the man in question. Dean Ambrose. Jon. Punk contemplated his actions for several moments before swallowing his prided and striding inside the bar, heading towards the Shield member.

Jon could sense his presence before he could see hi, glancing up briefly to acknowledge the older man before wordlessly turning his attention back to his drink. Punk let out a silence sigh, making a note not a roll his eyes.

'I don't want any trouble. Just a couple of minutes of your time. May I?' He asked, pulling up a chair next to Jon.

'Go ahead.' He mumbled before swallowing what was clearly whiskey. He held an ice cube in his mouth before loudly crunching it with his teeth, the sound breaking the uncomfortable silence. They didn't look at each other once.

'Wanna drink?' Jon asked as he finished his whiskey.

'No thanks, this won't take long.' Punk cleared his throat as he stared straight ahead, next to Jon but not looking at him once.

'How is she?' Jon asked so quietly Punk almost missed it.

'As bad as it gets.' Punk admitted with a deep sigh.

'Same again.' Jon asked the barmaid who walked past, picking up his empty glass. They both watched on in silence at she poured a double shot of whiskey in a fresh tumbler after filling it with ice. She wordlessly placed the drink in front of Jon before walking to her till to charge the drink to his room. He took a generous swig, enjoying the feeling of the liquid burning the back of his throat. He hissed at the initial taste before placing the drink down and finally taking a good look at Punk.

'What is this? Ya markin' your territory or something?' He asked waving his arm in between the two of them.

'That's not why I'm here.' Punk sighed as he folded his arms and leaned back on the stool.

'Then why are ya?' Jon eyed him suspiciously.

'I'm not blind, Ambrose. I saw the way you were back there in that room. I know you care about her. Way more than you've been letting on.' Punk spoke with accusation in his tone.

'So what? She ain't my girl.' Jon scoffed, turning away from Punk and taking another swig from his amber drink.

'After the last couple of weeks I'm not sure she's mine.' Punk admitted sadly, rubbing a hand over his face in desperation.

Jon's expression softened as he put his drink down and chuckled to himself, much to the confusion of Punk.

'Well, look at us. A couple of asshole wrestlers pining after the same woman.' He drawled, shaking his head to himself.

'Seems like. She cares about you too you know?' Punk hastily admitted making Jon smirk to himself, shaking his head at the Chicagoan's words.

'Is that so?'

'Alls I'm saying is we need to put aside our male pride bullshit. At least for the time being anyway. She's gonna need all the support she can get from the people that care about her. That includes you.' Punk cleared his throat, letting his words sit with Jon for a moment before scraping back his chair and standing up.

'I er... I gotta go back. Check on her.' Punk mumbled whilst Jon barely reacted, keeping his head bowed as he eyed his drink with fascination.

'Sure.'

Punk took this as a sign that their conversation was over and turned to leave. He didn't know what to make of Jon. Unlike himself he was a man of few words, but he meant what he said. He knew Jon cared about Georgie and wasn't going to carry on this love rivalry between them, not when so many more important things were circulating them right now. Just as he was heading out the door, Jon's voice stopped him in his tracks.

'Hey Punk.'

Punk turned to see Jon in the same seated position, but looking straight at him. His face was earnest and his blue eyes filled with sadness.

'Thanks.' He stated simply, but full of meaning before returning to his drink. Punk nodded his head at the man before walking out the bar and to his room where the woman in the middle of this slept restlessly.


Honestly, if you don't fall in love with Punk in this chapter you're either heartless or just after a Dean Ambrose smut story!

Coming up; Georgie visits Jack in hospital, she goes back to Orlando and the roster prepare to say goodbye to Nev.

Lyrics; Three Little Birds by Bob Marley.