Disclaimer: See chapter 1.

AN: Thanks again to Annalore (who tried the whole pizza thing again – she's actually more dedicated to the deep dish subplot in this story than I am, and I love it), InYourHonour, and stellamarie27 for reviews on the last chapter! And to everyone who followed and favorited. As the Bellas would say, besos!

I warn you in advance, this chapter gave me quite the fight. I hope it doesn't reflect here, but if it does, I apologize.

Chapter Warnings: Big old Dolph/AJ/Big E reunion. What's the Word. Ribbing on Dolph for hanging out with Punk. Hand smut. Amy and Punk watch television. Sushi stealing. Wolverine. Jittery Dolph. Sassy AJ. Suave Big E. Galaga. Snowballing…but not that kind of snowballing. Toucan Sam. John hates Punk, he really does, that asshole.

A house show in Tennessee wasn't exactly where Nick wanted to make his not-so-triumphant return, but at least he's getting a taped segment for his television return on SmackDown the same night, so he's kind of all right with it.

His flight arrives before April and E's, so he sits in the airport waiting for them so they can drive three hours from Charlotte to Johnson City because heaven forbid they go anywhere with an actual airport.

Okay, so he's not in the greatest mood, but he's really trying to turn it around before they get there so he isn't mean to the two people in his life who constantly mean well.

He chills at arrivals, hat pulled low over his eyes, Chuck Palahniuk novel in hand, but he's not focusing as he scans pages, constantly checking the arrivals board for their flight from Tampa. And when it flips over to landed, he feels like he's about to fly out of his seat (though on the outside, he still looks totally unaffected by everything around him because that's what he does).

If he knows April, she's going to wait for old ladies with walkers to get off that plane before her, smile on her face encouraging them up the aisle. E could sleep through a twenty-one gun salute, so he's still probably snoring next to her, and April will get all angry that he isn't immediately a ball of sunshine when she shakes him back to consciousness once a flight attendant says they absolutely have to get off the plane. E will give her one of those looks that says he's only tolerating her because she's adorable and stumble off the plane somewhere just shy of two-thirds awake.

He's witnessed occurrences like these so many times that he knows without a shadow of a doubt it's going to happen again, and he loves both of them for it.

A full half hour later, April and E come into view and he does fly out of his chair.

"Can I never get concussed again?"

April's face lights up like she's spotted Wonder Woman and she scurries over and hugs him and she's totally pressed against his front and his face is in her hair and Jesus and he lifts her off the tile without trying.

"Well, I'm going to make you promise not to because keeping this woman on the straight and narrow on the road has been impossible without you."

Nick smiles at E from over April's shoulder and she groans and pulls away when Nick sets her back down. "Shut up, E. I was in bed earlier than you every night, don't even start."

Nick's chest swells with fondness. "Awe see, you guys needed me. I'm the glue that holds this group together."

"Well, actually we got a lot accomplished without you." April looks smug as she says it and Nick wants to…he isn't going to finish that thought in the middle of an airport.

"I'm sure you did. Except not."

"We did," E assured him. "We finally figured out that What's the Word we've been stuck on for months."

"You didn't!"

April nodded proudly. "We did. It was stalk."

Nick sort of regrets missing the reveal. "That makes total sense. Now, of course. Five weeks ago that never would have crossed my mind."

"It took three six packs to crack it."

He shrugged. "Figures."

April smiled and hugged him again. He wound his arm around her waist to squeeze her close. E clapped his shoulder – ow – and that was enough between them.

"Let's go, I need to get out of this airport." He had to take a second to consider how to untangle himself from April, but he managed.

They joined him at his previous camp-out spot, where he gathered up all his things. They got their rental car and got out on the road, E insisting on taking the back so he could stretch out to pass out again, and April in shotgun because "Oh, hell no, little lady, you drive us and we're going to end up in the ocean!"

The drive from Charlotte to Johnson City was the same three hours whether or not they took the 40-mile shortcut on state routes. E immediately told them he didn't give two fucks if it saved a gallon of gas going that way, they better take the interstate: "I'm a luscious black man and this is the south. If we break down somewhere…"

April screamed for him to stop and Nick took the interstate.

April quickly caught Nick up on all the locker room gossip, and despite his eyes being closed every time Nick peeked at him in the rearview mirror, E threw in an anecdote or two of elaboration every couple of minutes.

Once they were all caught up, April broke the ice. "Soooooooo…."

Nick glanced at her from the corner of his vision and could see she was nearly bursting with whatever she wanted to ask him. "So?"

"Are you and Punk secret lovers? I could totally see that happening. Punkler. Or like…Donk."

"I vote for Donk," E threw in.

"Ew. You wish, April." Nick kind of knew she really did. She was odd like that.

"I kind of do. I could be all over that."

Nick shook his head. "Well, first, thank you for objectifying my non-existent same sex love affair. I will cherish this memory forever. Second, if I was in an existent same sex love affair, you would not be included."

"Ah. So you admit it's a love affair and not just strings free sex?"

"Have you been on tumblr again?"

"Duh," April blurted. "I got that picture of you two at the store from there, genius!"

E groaned. "She spends pretty much all her time on there. She runs a Shield blog now. It's called Believe in the Hair. It's dedicated to their hair, in case you couldn't deduce that from the wonderfully clever title."

April glared over her shoulder. "Thanks for selling me out!" She turned back to Nick. "I showed them and they approved."

"She texted them links and Colby's response was 'Who is this?'"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "You're both lying."

"We are. We came up with this story on the plane. But it sounds like me, doesn't it?" April's smile could have made Nick agree to sell his liver as long as she kept looking at him like that.

"Sure does, babe." He ruffled her hair and she squealed while batting his hand away.

One particularly good strike left Nick yelping in pain, shaking his forearm out to relieve the sting.

April smirked. "No, but really. I bet Punk sleeps hanging from the rafters like a bat."

"Well, my house doesn't have any rafters, so he just stuck to the bed like a normal person."

"Did you have fun though?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah. As much fun as I could have with a concussion, it wasn't like we went to Castles 'n Coasters and rode upside down or anything."

"I didn't think that. He can be grumpy though."

"I know."

"He means well."

"I know that too."

"I kissed him."

"Are you going to brag about that forever?"

"Yup."

"Figures, ya fan girl."

"Best in the world!"

Nick rolled his eyes, but April looked satisfied with herself and that was enough.

They rode in silence for a while, E's initial grunt of a snore startling both wrestlers in the front. They shared a quiet laugh over it once Nick got the car back in their lane.

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye again and she was staring now. "What?"

"I missed you," she told him, all humor gone from her voice.

"I missed you too."

"Please don't get hurt again."

He looked away from the road to meet her eye for a moment and the look there – the earnestness, the care – made him feel leaden, like he was too heavy, too full to ever find the will to look away. "I won't."

"Promise?"

He nearly had to force his lids to blink. He nodded.

She nodded in return, dropping her eyes. He looked back at the road, and felt her small hand wrapped around his on his lap.

And as he glanced down at their joined hands, she squeezed, her delicate knuckles going white. All his blood pooled low in his belly.

Punk sat on his couch, impatiently awaiting the landing text from Amy that meant he could come pick her up at O'Hare.

She hadn't wanted to cut his fun with Nick short when she got back from the Middle East, instead making headway on a backlog of work. She'd had to record radio shows in advance so she could go do a few gigs with Luchagore, and now she finally had 60 hours free to come see him. He felt like a dick taking her 60 hours when she could be resting. But he was a selfish prick, and he would take them anyway.

She'd already wasted 2 of them flying up to see him. May as well waste the other 58.

His phone vibrated as he retied his shoe for the third time.

Amy
The eagle has landed

He grabbed his keys and headed out, arriving there after almost mowing down a flash mob that broke out in Logan Square. People and their fucking Black Eyed Peas.

Amy was already outside, earbuds still firmly in place when he pulled up.

"Hey." She was pulling her earbuds out, opening the back passenger door to throw her bags in. He made his way around to her side and gave her a long overdue hug, squeezing her just enough to get a soft laugh out of her. "Thanks for the welcome."

"Missed you."

"I missed you too."

"You smell weird."

"A small child thought it would be cute to spill juice down my back and reaffirmed my want of a childless life."

"They tend to do that."

She pulled back and smiled and kissed him quickly before getting into the passenger's seat. Punk got back in and soon they were idling in midday Saturday traffic, catching up on things they hadn't already. Amy showed him a few pictures from her trip, and he showed her a few from Phoenix.

It was good and comfortable and Punk was once again pleased that they were back together.

At home, Amy changed out of her juice-stickied top and then joined him on the couch so they could finally start watching The Bates Motel after Punk had DVR'd the entire season. He pulled her in close, and she lay against his side, head on his chest. He wrapped one hand around her back and ran the other through her tangles, working them out with gentle pulls. By the time he was finished, his shirt bore several long red hairs, but he liked them there. Their presence felt routine.

They got through five episodes before calling out for sushi.

Despite opting to order vegetable rolls, Punk kept trying to steal pieces of Amy's rainbow roll and earned several stabs in the palm with chopsticks for his trouble.

"You're really failing at getting back on track, you know that?"

"I know! But I've had so much dairy at this point, fish is the next logical step."

She laughed and moved her plate closer to him. "There's always tomorrow, right?"

He scooped half his food onto her plate as penance before going to work on her rolls.

"When were you eating dairy? You don't even have any here…"

"In Phoenix. I had pizza and cheesy potatoes far too often. I don't know how you people do it. I've already gained 4 pounds."

"Can't keep up with the young guns anymore, huh?"

He threw a rogue grain of rice at her. "Shut up."

"Being perpetually grumpy and depressed about how you can't eat my won tons will prematurely age you."

"Hey, I've never gotten depressed over that. Just a little mopey."

She scoffed. "You just willingly described yourself as mopey. What's happened to you, Grumpelstilskin?"

"Grumpelstilskin? Seriously?" Punk polished off what was left on their plates and brought them to the sink. He made his way to Amy's side of the counter and smirked. "I can show you grumpy if you want, lady. I'm not sure you're going to think it's as cute as you're making it out to be."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'm quaking in my boots over here, trust me."

His tickles had her off her stool and laughing across the living room before he even had time to respond. He chased her through the house, occasionally catching her and receiving shots to the back whenever she could squirm away quick enough for him to miss pinning her arms to her sides.

The assault finally ended in his bed when she wrapped her teeth around his earlobe and tugged and he gave up on touching her for laughs. Her teeth grazed down his jaw and his hands slipped up her shirt, across her stomach, his thumbs pressing into her skin when her bite sent a little shiver down his neck.

"Miss me?" She kissed him quick and ran her fingertips over freshly trimmed mutton chops.

"I did."

"This Wolverine thing is far sexier than it should be."

"Wolverine is a sexy motherfucker."

"You're a sexy motherfucker."

"Oh, Amy. Don't make me blush."

"Can't make you blush if I can't talk."

"Good point." He kissed her and was happy she'd come to see him.

Nick sat backstage at Raw and wanted to bum rush the stage in the middle of any of these segments and just do cartwheels or flips or something down the ramp. He was jazzed enough to rediscover Nicky and whip him out just for this occasion. Fuck, if Vince McMahon had some golf clubs stashed in his office, he'd carry those out too as long as he got to beat someone with them.

He'd already held it together long enough to go out there with E and April and get hit in the head by Alberto, so he figured he could manage to wait until that week's SmackDown taping tomorrow night to get in the ring. He wished he could fast forward to that point right now, but this wasn't a terrible Adam Sandler movie, so he would have to handle the anticipation as best he could.

Plus he didn't really want to deal with the fine he would get if he went out and broke script.

The house shows that weekend had gone well. He hadn't fought, but he'd been out at ringside with April for E's matches and that had felt nice. He'd gotten bigger pops than he normally did, especially in non-smarky crowds. People acted like that was some big surprise, but all Nick had to do was look on tumblr for half a second to know it should be expected.

And the crowds had been more than happy to pop for him tonight – or technically E, but he was included in that – and he saw a handful more teal and pink shirts than before he'd gone. They were all good signs. Good, making him antsy, signs.

And now he was fidgeting around in a hallway while April watched him, smiling like he was a toddler riding the family cat around for YouTube.

"Don't look at me like that."

"You're being adorable. I can't look away. It's like that duckling swimming in the sink."

"No it isn't. I'm just…ugh! I want to be out there."

She laughed. "You're ridiculous." She patted the crate next to her. "Come sit."

He did, but kept kicking his legs.

"Jesus, you're a wreck."

"I'm bored."

April tutted. "Wow, thanks for complimenting my companionship. Super appreciative right here."

"Hey, you aren't entertaining me. Any and all insults to your ability to keep me company are totally valid."

"If you want to be entertained, head back to the hotel."

Nick smirked at her. "Babe, don't make promises like that when you've still got entertaining to do out there."

She shook her head, not quite ready to slip into AJ yet. "Me kicking your ass would be pretty entertaining too."

"Oh God, yes. It would be."

She smacked him in the chest. "Perv."

"Oh, come on. You love it."

"Do not."

"You do. It's your favorite thing. You love riling me up."

She laughed at his insistence, smacking him again, but when he caught her eye he could see the admittance there, so he quickly killed that line of badgering. She looked away, but side hugged him, and he tucked her in under his chin. God, she was tiny and she fit right in there and…

His phone vibrated.

Punk
April told me to tell you to stop fidgeting.
Punk (2)
So stop fidgeting.

He lightly shoved her away. "You texted Punk? Traitor."

She laughed and shoved him back. "Hey, you weren't listening to me! It seemed like a logical decision."

"He isn't my mom."

"He might as well be. I swear he texted you yesterday to ask if you had eaten, and don't even deny it. No matter how quickly you grabbed the phone away, that's what it said!"

"Because he was recommending a gross vegan place for me to go to. Taking everything out of context like usual, April."

"Oh, but see! He's worried about your animal product consumption. That's cute!"

"You're getting out of hand. I'm going to have to start putting you on blast."

"On blast? Really? Who are you? Where did you come from?"

"Hollywood, Florida. Duh."

"Incorrigible."

"That sums me up. Can't get enough of my swaggle muffin!"

April gagged. "I feel like that's what Justin Bieber calls Selena Gomez."

"It fits. We're the Jelena of the WWE."

"Ugh, so not in the mood to deal with you."

"Awe, babe. Why can't we play?"

"Nick, quit being weird."

He pouted. "But, babe. You like it weird. Remember that time with the air horn and the shoelace-"

She laughed. "I can't even make up something creepy enough for that description to fit."

"Exactly." Riling April up calmed his nerves and he relaxed against the wall. He texted Punk: not fidgeting, just moving

Punk
Just stay still

Nick rolled his eyes: shut up.

E came round the corner in his dress clothes and Nick wolf whistled. "Looking good!"

April fanned herself. "Jesus, I might just have to dump this one!"

E smiled proudly and spun for them. "I know I look good. You don't have to tell me."

He Tyra Banks-walked down the hall and April and Nick had to lean against each other while they laughed to keep from falling from their perches.

April eventually calmed down and hopped off her crate. "We'll be back soon. Don't reinjure yourself with your fidgeting."

"Ugh, fuck off. I'm perfectly capable of remaining unconcussed."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"I'm all right so far, aren't I?"

"Whatever, Zigglypuff!"

They made their way down the hall and Nick opened his Galaga app.

He shot at little buggy spaceshippy things (he was never entirely sure what they were) like it was his life's purpose, when he heard laughter and people walking closer to him. He vaguely registered a couple of the production crew hurrying by him, ignoring them in the fight to keep his starfighter alive.

The scuff of sneakers halting startled him, and when he looked up and met Cena's eyes, his sinking stomach and suddenly rigid hands were punctuated by the sound of his starfighter getting hit and losing its last life.

They stared at each other for a while before John jutted his chin in recognition and Nick did the same. "Hey."

"Hey."

Nick felt like he should say something more. Like he should try and break the ice. Cena was standing there, unmoving, like he thought the same. Nick suddenly felt very pressured to do something, and found himself speechless for the first time.

So he laughed, but it was a choked, mangled sound and he was reminded of Andy Samberg as Shy Ronnie in those SNL skits with Rihanna.

To say he regretted it would be an understatement.

John gave him the most confused look Nick had ever seen from him – which was saying a lot, in his opinion – before his face went blank and then he looked angry. Nick stopped laughing with a sudden gasp and his eyes widened and wow he was a fucking loser.

John looked off down the hall and started like he might go, then didn't. Nick could read that body language: over it. He glanced back at Nick. "Head good?"

Of course he would ask after that noise. Cena probably thought he was brain damaged at this point. Or just really fucking stupid, which would have been correct.

Nick just nodded. "Yep. It's great."

"Take my advice?"

"Um…" Nick struggled to remember the exact content of their shopping cart conversation past memories of his headache and (possibly) irrational anger over insinuations that Nick might turn Punk into a junkie. Something about not exacerbating it? "Yeah. I did."

John nodded and kept nodding and Nick had to focus on a point on the man's chest to make it seem like he was still paying attention because this was just weird.

"Ankle good?"

Nick swore if Cena didn't stop nodding he was going to reach out and still his head himself.

"Yeah. It's been fine for weeks. Just needed some TLC."

"Well, TLC would have probably been worse for it…" There. That was so much better and more like himself than any of the ridiculous shit he'd done so far in this exchange.

John gave him a questioning look before the tension on his face broke and he chuckled. "Right."

Nick breathed a sigh of relief.

Suddenly, April and E came barreling down the hall laughing and when they saw Nick and John, they came to a silent halt and stared.

It was the tensest moment in Nick's recent memory.

"Hey John!" April smiled and sat back down in her previous spot, putting herself right between John and where Nick sat, and Nick decided then and there he needed to give this girl the world in appreciation.

Nick was pleased to see John had the same soft spot for his on-screen girlfriend that the rest of the world did. "Hey April. Title Sunday?"

April gave him her small scheming AJ smile. "We'll see."

"All right, I'll be watching." John started down the hall, giving E a nice bro-shake and complimenting his shirt ("It's a blouse, dude, but thanks for the love") before heading off to close out the show.

Once his knuckles relaxed, the sound of Nick's phone clattering to the ground broke the silence between the three.

April seemed to shake herself back to reality. "Well, that was…awkward."

"Jesus Fuck, thank God you two came. It was worse before that."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Oh, it was."

"Well, this is a problem I have no desire to listen to. I'll see you two at the car." E went off to strip out of his fine shirt from the Cosby Couture collection. Traitor.

April turned to him, suddenly serious and awestruck. "What the fuck happened?"

"I can't even explain. I insinuated his love of Punk's penis and…it just snowballed from there."

April stared. "I can't get past the mental image that hearing penis and snowballed in the same sentence caused…"

"Shut up, April."

She pouted and whipped out her phone, ignoring him. He felt bad. He knew she got a little uncomfortable after doing terrible AJ things, and she'd just been a bit roughed up by Celeste. He could have asked her how it went since he hadn't bothered to head to the monitor bay to catch the reveal. But he'd been too busy making zoo animal noises at John fucking Cena to do that much for his friend.

He let her ignore him.

He hadn't realized his heart rate had sped up until now, when it was coming back down. Confrontation was great when it was scripted, but he honestly hated it in real life situations. He avoided it as much as possible, even if he was a hot head at times. He wasn't a fan of the unpredictability. Not when you could get punched in the face. Or concussed. And even scripted confrontation sometimes lead to that.

He was thankful they'd both been so weird just now. If Cena had been too friendly or even the slightest bit cocky, Nick probably would have lost it. He wouldn't have acted on it, but he probably would have suffered an aneurysm, and he was pretty sure that would set his concussion recovery back a week or two or something like that. No biggie. But he didn't feel like staying out of the ring that much longer. He had less than twenty-four hours to go now, and John Cena wasn't going to ruin that.

Even if John Cena had no clue he was ruining it. Fuck, Nick was turning into a creepy bastard with vendettas against people who didn't even know they were doing things to get him angry. Real fucking mature on his part, he was like a fucking sorority pledge hating on the vice president over here.

He needed to get to bed because this day had just been nothing but anxious need and weird fucking occurrences.

He hopped up and took April's phone despite her protests. "Let's go get E, I want to go back."

"You can't just take my phone."

"I can, and I did." He hugged her. "You're not mean," he reassured her.

She sighed and squeezed him back. "I know. It's fun and fake, but I still feel like it's me doing it."

"I know."

"It's not exactly a positive thing for kids to see, you know? Mixed messages and what not."

"I know. It's not like you're making some groundbreaking discovery about company hypocrisy. Besides, everyone loves you anyway so it doesn't matter if you're a bully."

April smiled and pulled away. "I'm getting a kids' shirt."

"See! Sell them shirts and body shaming. It's the WWE way."

"Isn't it though?" She slid off her crate and stole her phone back. "Let's go."

And they did.

John dialed Punk and only had to wait two rings before his friend answered.

"Hola, Juan."

"I think your boy Ziggler just squawked at me."

There was silence from Punk's end, and John thought the call had dropped. "Punk?"

"I'm still processing that. Give me a moment."

"Okay…"

"Is squawking some new slang I'm not aware of? I just got the hang of 'shade' and 'swerve' is still puzzling…"

"No. Like, legitimate bird noise. I don't know what the fuck his deal is…"

"He doesn't have a deal, John."

"He has a deal. I can tell. I think he might kill me in his sleep. He gets the crazy eyes."

"John, he wasn't trying to offend you or your ancestors or whatever you're implying. And I sincerely doubt he's trying to kill you. He scoops gnats up between cups and sheets of paper and releases them back into the wild. He's just…no I can't even come up with an excuse. He's a weird fuck, but a good guy." John wanted to protest but Punk continued. "Do me a favor?"

"Yeah, okay…"

"Can you make the noise for me? It'll help me figure out his intentions."

"Yeah. Something like that shit stands out. It was like a," John tried to make the noise. He put a little bit of a T-Rex arm movement into it just to force it out.

"Mhm…can you do it again? I feel like I recognize it."

"Yeah." He repeated the noise, a little louder this time, curving his upper back to push out his spine. He was pretty sure he looked like a chicken. A passing PA gave him a weird look, but he just smiled and she beamed back before tripping over a cord. John lunged to help her, but she quickly untangled herself and scurried off, red faced.

"Yeah, I'm not getting it. One more time?"

John made the noise…"Wait. Are you fucking with me?"

"No. I recognized it. It's the sound of you being a gullible tool."

"Ugh. You know what man, fuck you!"

Punk laughed. "You're such an easy target. I can't believe you made it this far in life without being swindled out of your fortune or something."

"Shut up. You're an asshole."

"Says the guy who just made Toucan Sam noises in public."

"I'm going now. I'm sure I can find people who appreciate me more than you do. Go have phone sex with your boy, Ziggler. Fucking douchebags."

"Oh, John. I love you too."

"I'll text you. Pain in my fucking ass." He hung up as Punk laughed once more, and stalked off, ready to head out to the ring.

Fucking Punk and his fucking stupid pranks and why was he friends with this asshole again?

John knew Punk would tell him, "It's because you love me and I'm the best friend you've ever had." And Punk would have been right.

AN: This chapter gave me so much trouble! I'm also actually pretty sure it's the shortest chapter since the first one too. I'm sorry if this let anyone down, but it's a bridge for the transition this story is about to go through. I'm so excited to write the next chapter! Because in the next chapter, it's Payback! And we all know what happens at Payback, don't we?

Any and all feedback is appreciated more than you know.