John was not having a good week. First, the stuff with Jericho, then Kane had put Zack on the injured list, then Eve had blamed him for it…He had entirely too much crap on his mind and the only good thing about his week was the moments when he could get Punk alone and forget about all of it.

Punk was not having the best week either. The crap with Jericho, combined with the crap with Laurinaitis and Ziggler had put him into a bit of a bad mood as well.

The both of them had made a sort of silent vow not to speak about work when they found time to be alone together. Both of them wanted at least part of their week to be good, to be worry free. But after the pay-per-view. After Kane had gone after Eve again, after Kane had attacked Zack again, John had reached an all time low.

"You're leaving?" Punk asked him. They were in the hallway of the arena. John had his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I need to get out of here." He didn't glance over his shoulder to where the Royal Rumble match was about to take place.

"Well…you want me to come with you?" Punk asked with a worried frown. "We could go back to the hotel…"

"No, it's fine. Look, I think I just need to be alone for a bit," John admitted.

"Alright…" The worry didn't leave Punk's eyes and John pulled him close, kissing him briefly.

"I'll be fine. I just need to work some things out. Meet you back at the hotel?"

"Yeah, sure."

Xxxxxxxxxx

Punk couldn't say he was unhappy with the results of the rumble. At least, it seemed like someone else was going to have a bad week, he thought when he watched Sheamus eliminate Chris. He had yet to get his own revenge on Chris but watching the expression on Chris' face after that elimination had been satisfying even if he hadn't been the one doing it.

He was still worried about John though and as much as he did want to find Chris, he needed to make sure John was alright after that mess with Kane. He did not, however, make it to the hotel as quickly as he would have liked.

He was heading towards the parking lot, passing through a deserted hallway when the lights went out. He had a moment of surprise before there was blinding pain that took him to the floor as something slammed into the small of his back.

The agony of it took his breath and his mouth opened in a scream that never made it past his lips. Before he could even think past that pain, a kick had him on his back and then a knee was pressed into his throat. He was vaguely aware of something metal being dropped on the floor near his head as the lights came back on and he heard Chris speaking.

"You know, I had this all planned out. You know me, Phillip. I always did like those slow building ones…mind games and all that. Unfortunately, Kane is not nearly as patient as I am."

Punk gripped weakly at Chris, at the knee pressed firmly against his throat but the pain in his back had not abated at all and he had to remain still as Chris continued.

"Are you listening to me?" Chris finally removed his knee, only to grip Punk's chin tightly. "You see, Kane's very adamant about all this. He really wants to hurt Cena, really wants to break the guy down and he really wants to use you to do it. You should really be thanking me. If I hadn't stepped in, you'd probably be in worse shape than Ryder is at the moment."

Recovering somewhat from the blow to his back, Punk tried to shove Chris away, tried to get himself up but Chris only stood again. He pushed Punk back down and, grabbing Punk's legs, he turned him over into the Walls of Jericho before he could do anything about it. Punk let out a strangled cry at the action.

Chris held the hold for a minute before releasing it and Punk immediately curled up on the floor. Chris knelt again, put a hand on the side of his neck.

"Alright, I suppose that I do have your attention, don't I?" He paused. "Listen to me, Phillip. You're going to do something for me and if you don't, your new boyfriend is going to be the one to pay the price."

Chris leaned even closer to him and spoke quickly, in a low voice. When he was finished, he stood again, a smirk on his face and then he walked away, left Punk on the floor.

For a minute, Punk didn't move. He lay on his side with the pain in his back, Chris' words sinking in. Finally he rolled onto his knees and, gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet, groaning when he tried to straighten up fully.

He nearly fell against the wall. Putting a hand against it, he forced himself to begin walking towards the exit again.

Xxxxxxxxx

By the time John made it back to the hotel, all he really wanted to do was curl up in bed with Punk and sleep, forget about Kane and all his problems. Forget about how he was sure Eve was right, that it was his fault Zack was in the hospital again.

He felt a bit bad for ditching Punk too. Punk had won his match, after all and that was a bright spot in what had been a pretty abysmal work week for the both of them but he hadn't wanted to bring Punk down with him and he really had needed to be alone for a bit.

He expected to find Punk still awake when he made it back to their hotel room. Most time, Punk was awake and this was the night of a pay-per-view, which usually was a guarantee that Punk would not be sleeping at all.

But, when he got inside the room, he didn't find his boyfriend sitting up and reading his comics, or watching one of his DVDs. Instead, Punk was curled up near the edge of the bed on his side, eyes closed. And, although John doubted he was actually sleeping, his brow creased in worry when he recognized the lines of pain on Punk's face.

"What the hell happened?" John asked when he knelt beside the bed. Guilt formed in his gut again. He had left the arena early and obviously someone had attacked Punk. Considering the past few weeks, John had a pretty good idea of who it must have been.

Punk cracked his eyes open. "John…feeling any better?" He asked.

John's frown deepened and he shook his head. He could hear the pain in Punk's voice. "Yeah, great. You look like you don't feel so hot, though."

"Mmm." He grabbed John's arm, closed his eyes again. "You should get in bed."

"I will as soon as you tell me what happened," John said. His first thought was to refuse any stalling on Punk's part this time, that this was the third time Punk had been caught off guard and that something needed to be done about it. But, when Punk opened his eyes fully, John was startled by the sadness he saw shining in them.

"Later…please?" And the defeated tone of his voice, added with the almost begging quality had John's resolve crumbling. He found he couldn't say no, couldn't press Punk, not when he was looking at John that way, not with that tone of voice.

With a sigh, John stood and got into bed as well, wrapping his arms around Punk and pulling his back to John's chest. John's worry only increased when Punk practically clung to him. He'd never heard Punk beg for anything before…and clingy was never a word he would have used to describe the man.

John wrapped his arms tighter around Punk with a bad feeling that something worse than a simple physical attack had happened after he'd left the arena.