Punk stared at the door he had just slammed in Ziggler's face. Punk knew he was rather myopic when it came to other people being attracted to him but coyness didn't seem to be a personality trait of Ziggler's. He would like to say that Ziggler was out of his mind but the last time flirting and fighting had been combined he ended up dating John. Punk pulled his clothes back off and climbed into bed. He lay awake for a while trying to figure out what to do next. He tried to stay up and wait for John but he kept nodding off. He decided that he would tell John about Ziggler in the morning.

Punk awoke the next morning pushed to the edge of the mattress so far that he was surprised he hadn't fallen off the bed. Punk sat up and couldn't believe his eyes. He pinched himself foolishly hoping that he was in the middle of a nightmare. No such luck. John was sleeping in the middle of the bed and on his other side was Ryder who was snuggled into John's side. Feeling particularly homicidal, Punk was tempted to grab the lamp next to him and bash Ryder over the head with it. Punk was so shocked that John had allowed this he felt like bashing him over the head as well.

Their flight didn't leave till later in the day so Punk quickly pulled on some workout clothes to head to the gym, he had to get out of the room. Maybe the combination of a few miles on the treadmill and some brutal heavy metal music would help curb his violent mood. Punk turned a few miles but it didn't seem to be helping. He was sure John had some well-meaning explanation but there was nothing that John could say to make the situation all right. All of a sudden the treadmill shut down and Punk jumped to the edges to keep from falling off the back of the conveyor belt. He looked around and realized he had company. Ziggler was standing by the wall with an electrical cord dangling from his hand.

"What the fuck! Are you stalking me or something?"

"Maybe just a little bit. I'm being forced to expend a lot more effort than I usually have to."

"Shouldn't you take that as a sign that you should stop whatever you're up to?"

"No. I see it as the exact opposite. I'm finding that the chase is much more satisfying than instant gratification."

"This isn't a game. I'm not some prize to be won."

"I think you're not giving yourself nearly enough credit."

"Keep this up and you're going to find yourself on the wrong side of John."

"If you were going to tell lover boy you would have long ago. Let's go get a coffee."

"Have you gone mental?"

"Come on, I'm charming and entertaining and eye candy. What does Cena have besides his looks? I bet you can't name the last time he even came close to engaging you mentally."

Punk was having trouble remembering the last time John had engaged him in anything; his focus was on Ryder which didn't leave much time for him. Punk felt jealous and betrayed and still slightly violent over what he had seen in their hotel room. He could use some time away from the hotel of horrors and Ziggler was at least entertaining. Punk knew that the words about to come out of his mouth were so very wrong but they came out anyway.

"Fine, let's go."

"Really?"

"I said yes didn't I? Let's go before my moral compass kicks in."

"Morality is never an emotion I've ever caused in anyone."

Punk and Ziggler walked down a couple of blocks until they came to a coffee shop and a brief shoving match broke out when Ziggler insisted on paying. The cashier must be a hopeless romantic because one smile from Ziggler and she completely ignored the money Punk was holding out.

"This is not a date."

"Says you. I just paid therefore this is officially a date. Considering we've already gotten to the groping level of physical relations I'd say that it's about time we went out on a date and you rendered yourself respectable. You wouldn't want me to think you're easy would you?"

"Exactly how have you come to this ludicrous theory?"

"We've been rolling around practically naked for weeks. I've had my hands all over your body and trust me when I say I enjoyed every minute of that."

"We were fighting for god's sake. Enough of this. What exactly is your angle here?"

"To get you naked and so turned on your eyes cross."

"I am so out of here," Punk made to stand up but Ziggler grabbed him by the wrist and wouldn't let go.

"What did you think that you could just come out and no one would care? Sure, no one is giving you hell about being gay because half of them think they've got a chance to get a piece of your sweet ass. Lucky for me I'm the most calculating of the bunch and got there first."

"You're not anywhere."

"Just keep thinking that. I know what my attractions are and I know I'm just your type. You want to cheat, you want to tell the fans to go fuck themselves, then do it. Cena might give you a sermon on the mount for behaving like that but I'll reward you for your dastardly behavior. I've never gotten a bad review; I've been told I'm quite talented with my mouth."

"Fuck you."

"Is that a request because I'm sure there's a lock on the bathroom door?"

Punk finally jerked his hand out of Ziggler's grasp and quickly walked back to the hotel. He was feeling guilty as hell for even agreeing to go anywhere with Ziggler, never mind the conversation that they had, but when Punk opened the hotel room door, every guilty feeling faded to nothing. John was walking around in nothing but a towel and Ryder was flipping through the stations on the TV. It looked so easy and familiar that Punk thought he might throw up. He was losing John piece by piece and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Punk jerked his head toward the bathroom and John followed him in. He locked the door behind him and turned on the faucet. The last thing he wanted was delighting Ryder with him and John having a domestic.

"Is there any explanation you can give me to explain what I woke up to this morning?"

"Zack had a panic attack at the hospital last night. I didn't want to leave him in his room all alone."

"And when you woke up did you notice that Ryder was all over you?"

"He was just so scared. It's not surprising that he latched on. He was really embarrassed by it this morning."

"Either you're seriously gullible or he deserves an Oscar. How long is this situation expected to last for?"

"Until he…"

"Until he what…gets you balls deep in his ass!"

"Phil!"

"I'd rather be staying in a hotel in a different zip code but infidelity won't be so easy with your boyfriend on one side and your new piece of ass on the other."

"Phil, I would never…"

"But he would in a heartbeat."

"I don't know what I've done to make you lose trust in me."

"Then you haven't been paying attention at all. I need to take a shower. If you want a quickie try to finish up before I get out."

January 15, 2012

Punk's current living conditions were downright unbearable. Ryder had yet to vacate their room during the stretch of house shows and Punk's suspicious mind made it impossible for him to even consider leaving John and Ryder alone. Ryder must really be turning in a tour de force performance because he wasn't even scheduled for the house shows due to his so-called injury. He was just tagging along and making his life a living hell.

John obviously wasn't paying the same attention to him because Punk could not understand how John had not caught on to what was happening around him. Everyone else booked for the house shows seemed more than aware that something was going on between him and Ziggler. Ziggler had started to pick the alcove next to him to change, feeling Ziggler's eyes on him while he was changing. Ziggler was so busy using their matches as a way to put his hands on Punk in a manner that was definitely not the way of an opponent that Ziggler was clearly forgetting about the winning part. House shows didn't exactly figure into one's win-loss ratio and Ziggler had obviously adopted that philosophy. Apparently the GTS was now considered a come on.

Punk had never shirked off of work in his life but he was seriously considering faking an injury and absenting himself from his current hell, John and the Championship be damned.

January 16, 2012

Monday Night Raw

Punk walked into the arena in Anaheim and it wasn't the usual ego killing situation he had been facing the past couple of weeks. He was surprised to find out that he had made a return to main event status. He would be tagging with Daniel and of course his opponents were Ziggler and Henry. Punk just hoped that Ziggler's antics from the house shows would not carry over to Raw.

Punk was sitting next to John in the monitor bay but they might as well be sitting on opposite sides of the room. Communication between them had completely broken down. It was as if they had already been broken in half and no amount of effort could put them back together. Punk had gone from pissed to sullen to despondent in a week. Mick Foley walked out to the ring and Punk settled in for something that would at least lift his spirits. Foley was always good for a laugh.

Foley proposed himself as an entrant into the Royal Rumble but was interrupted by Vickie and Ziggler. Ziggler was dressed in a horrendous hot pink shirt and the most pathetic attempt at a ponytail that he had ever seen. Ziggler was obviously a person who made questionable choices, his pursuit of himself included. It finally occurred to Punk that beating Ziggler up didn't deter him but perhaps a debilitating verbal beat down would work better. Punk got up and made his way to the ring entrance, entering at the conclusion of Ziggler's tirade. He got in a few shots at Ziggler but somehow found himself in a bitch fight with Vickie. Thankfully, before Punk could demean himself any more, Laurinaitis' grating voice sounded through the arena. After prevaricating for a few minutes Laurinaitis finally refused Foley's request to be in the Royal Rumble. Vicky walked up to Foley and started cackling in his face.

"Seriously, how do you put up with that? I think my eardrums are bleeding."

"Maybe, but you have no idea how effective it is. How about after the match tonight, you come back to my hotel room, loser has to…"

"What!"

Punk and Ziggler both looked at Vickie who was looking between them with a scandalized look on her face.

"That's all yours, see ya!" and Punk left the ring. What he didn't count on was how fast Vickie could move in a pair of heels. He felt her fake nails dig painfully into his arm and she practically threw him and Ziggler into an empty room. Punk made to leave and then reconsidered. Vickie was going to go all banshee on him at some point, better a deserted room than the monitor bay. He started cracking up when Vickie slapped Ziggler on the head.

"What are you doing! You're supposed to be hitting him, not hitting on him!"

"Vickie, listen…"

"No, I will not listen! And you! Do you think you can keep your Championship by prostituting yourself out to the competition!"

"Wait, are you prostituting yourself out, because if you are I'll promise to go easy on you," Ziggler said with a smirk in Punk's direction.

"Dolph, for crying out loud, John Cena…"

"John Cena won't do a damn thing."

"Did you two forget you're supposed to be fighting each other, not scheduling secret trysts."

"Vickie, I won't be trysting with anyone, least of all Dolph."

"You called me Dolph; does that mean I can call you Phil?"

"Jesus Christ Dolph, snap the hell out of it," Vickie said angrily, Ziggler not bending to her will as he usually did.

"Listen you harpy, I'm not going anywhere near you precious Dolph so don't worry about fitting him for a chastity belt. Feel free to continue on without me," and Punk walked back into the hallway just in time to see Swagger emerge from the arena, US Championship in hand.

"Did you just…"

"That's right Punk; I'm the new US Champion."

Punk walked up to Swagger and shook his hand, "Nice job Swagger, congratulations."

"You're a slut CM Punk," he heard Vickie screech at his back as he walked down the hallway. He just flipped her off and kept walking. Punk was perversely happy that Ryder had lost his Championship even though he would probably use it as an excuse to hang all over John in his misery.

He found Daniel waiting for him when he entered the monitor bay. He didn't even bother looking for John, knowing he was off somewhere consoling Ryder after his loss.

"We've got a problem."

"When is there ever not a problem?"

"Otunga has been added to our match," Daniel said, obviously not leading with the actual issue.

"It's a handicap match now?"

"No, we've picked up another partner."

"Who has Laurinaitis saddled us with?"

"Chris Jericho."

"Stop fucking with me Daniel."

"Punk! Language! He's a good wrestler."

"But has he wrestled since he's been back, better yet has he even spoken? The answer to both questions is no. I hope he gets electrocuted by his own sparkly jacket on the way to the ring."

John finally showed up on screen, storming into Laurinaitis' office irate that Ryder had defended his title without being medically cleared. Laurinaitis defended himself by saying he hadn't read the doctor's report until after the match was already over. He could tell Laurinaitis was lying through his teeth, but at the moment Punk just wanted to give the man a hug. Laurinaitis responded by scheduling a match for John against Swagger. Before Punk could start his mental tirade against Ryder in his head he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and slid his thumb across the bottom to retrieve the message.

Punk stared at his phone in shock and then in abject hatred. The message had come from an unknown number but Punk could give a fuck who had sent it. The message was a photo of John sitting next to Ryder in an empty room. John's hand was on Ryder's bare knee and Ryder was leaning into John, looking at him with a love-struck expression, their lips a breath or two away from kissing. Punk stared at the photo until his hand started to cramp at how tightly he was gripping his phone. Punk jumped up and hurled his phone at the wall, the phone breaking into pieces. Punk felt a hand on his shoulder and jerked at the contact. He whipped around to find John and Ryder.

"Phil…what…"

"Don't you fucking 'Phil' me," Punk pushed John and rocked the man back on his feet. "And you Ryder…" Punk cocked his arm back and blasted Ryder across the jaw, sending him sprawling to the floor. "You want him, you can have him," Punk spit out and stormed out of the monitor bay with the entire roster watching with slack jawed expressions.

Punk found himself in catering and slumped down into a seat, dropping his head down onto his folded arms. He was about ten seconds away from bursting into tears and wished he could just cut out early so he could go on a crying jag, but trust this Raw to be the first one in a while when he was in the main event.

He collected himself and returned to the monitor bay, ignoring the stares being sent his way. He caught the tail end of John going postal on Swagger. John was defending his new boyfriend's honor. He felt like throwing up...again. The sick feeling in his stomach started to give way to anger. By the time Daniel retrieved him from the monitor bay with a silent Jericho in tow Punk was ready to rip someone limb from limb. Their team found themselves in trouble and Punk made the hot tag to Jericho who got into the ring, pranced around as per usual, tagged Daniel back in and left the arena. It only got better when Daniel too left the arena with Henry hot on his heels. Punk knew he was done for until Foley showed up out of nowhere; telling Punk he had been approved as a replacement and Punk tagged him in.

Foley took Otunga down with Mr. Socko in hand for the Mandible Claw. Punk didn't even get the chance to celebrate the impossible win when Laurinaitis came down the ramp. Laurinaitis announced that Foley was not legal in the match. Foley assured Punk he was and Punk had no doubt he was telling the truth, Laurinaitis had found yet another way to screw him and reversed the decision. Punk had reached the end of his rope and Laurinaitis was going to get the full brunt of anger.

He ripped the mic out of Laurinaitis' hand and started yelling, yanking at Laurinaitis' tie and lapels. Punk tore into Laurinaitis more than he had ever done before. He was relentless, wanting someone to feel as small as he felt at the moment. He cocked his hand back to punch Laurinaitis who practically tripped over his own feet, he flinched so hard.

He was walking past the monitor bay when he picked up Laurinaitis' voice, "You want to know if I'm going to screw CM Punk? You're damn right I will!"

Let Laurinaitis screw him at the Royal Rumble; it would just be the last straw in a series of fucked up events that had befallen him. He went to the locker room, took a quick shower and grabbed his things and headed to the hotel. He had to get a new room because no way was he going back to the room he shared with John and Ryder, that snake in the grass. He entered his room, not even bothering to turn the light on, stripped out of his clothes and fell face forward on the bed. Finally alone, lying in the dark, Punk was surprised when the tears didn't come. Everything had fallen apart in the course of two hours and it left Punk emotionally cold. He felt his eyes getting heavy. Maybe if he went to sleep he would wake up the next morning and this would all be a nightmare.

Punk awoke slowly, the feeling of a warm body pressed to his back and an arm slung around his waist. He relaxed into the body behind him and then his eyes shot open. He had gotten a new room last night, abandoning the room he and John shared. Punk sat up and looked beside him.

"What the fuck!"

"Do you always wake up like that because it's sort of jarring first thing in the morning?"

Punk looked at Ziggler in shock, "How the hell did you get in my room!"

"You should have locked the connecting door before you fell asleep."

"And you just go into random people's rooms at night while they're sleeping?"

"Of course not. I knew it was your room. I knew you'd be looking for alternate accommodations last night and I paid the desk clerk to put you in the room connected to mine."

"And how did you know I'd need a new room?"

"Haven't you figured it out yet, I'm the one that sent you that photo."

"Out of the goodness of your heart I'm sure."

"Goodness had nothing to do with it. It was purely for my own benefit."

"Ziggler, get the fuck out of my room before I commit justifiable homicide."

"Fine, see if I ever do you any favors again," and Ziggler walked through the connecting door back into his own room.

Punk followed him to lock the door behind him when there was a knock on his door.

"What!"

It was John, eyes red-rimmed, looking like he hadn't slept at all.

"I finally convinced the manager to tell me what room you were in. Whatever I did I'll fix it. You want Ryder gone, he's gone. Please, just come back to…"

And John's words cut off, John looking over his shoulder in shock. Punk didn't need to turn around to know what John was seeing.