I'm using Colt again for this…I thought about using one of Punk's sisters but I don't even know how old they are. Plus, I heard him say several times doesn't speak to his parents. And I like Colt.

"Okay, what the hell is up with you?"

The greeting did not cause Punk to raise his head from the cushions of his couch. He'd heard the door open, of course but hadn't had the energy to lift himself up to see who it was. There were only three people that had keys to his place. Two were his sisters and one was the man currently standing behind his couch.

"I'm fine," Punk mumbled automatically but he hadn't moved. He was more exhausted than he ever remembered being, which was saying something considering how many years he'd dealt with insomnia and he hadn't ate anything that day.

"Why aren't you answering your phone then?" Colt asked, his tone mildly angry.

Punk sighed and finally turned over so he could sit up. He dug his phone out of his pocket. "Huh. It's dead." He dropped it on the coffee table, not bothering to get up and find the charger.

"You look like shit," Colt commented before he went around the couch, and sat down near the end.

"Thanks," Punk grumbled, pulling his feet in until he was sitting cross-legged. He considered getting up and turning up the thermostat. Even with the hoodie he had on, it was still cold in his house.

"You know…I've been meaning to talk to you," Colt said, studying him a moment. "Haven't since Chris came back."

Groaning, Punk shook his head. "I'm not going to end up back with Chris," he stated, some of the anger and depression he'd been feeling in the three days since he had broken things off with John coming back.

His coping methods usually meant running or time in the gym and he had spent a lot of time doing both. But no matter how long he spent running the familiar routes he still couldn't get the look he'd seen in John's eyes out of his head and he couldn't get the rage at Chris to die.

He didn't want it to die, though, really. There had been several times during his relationship with Chris, after fights, that he'd thought he might hate the man but he really did hate Chris now. He couldn't think of anyone he had ever hated more.

"That's good to know." Colt brought him out of his thoughts. "What about Cena?"

Punk considered him a moment. "We broke up," he blurted out and then he finally did get up, headed towards his kitchen.

"You broke up," Colt repeated, following him, watching him as he got a bottle of water from his fridge.

"That's what I said." He shrugged, feigning indifference although he was sure that the luggage under his eyes and the disheveled appearance gave him away. Plus, he was a good liar when he wanted to be but Colt had known him for ten years.

"Why?" The surprise in Colt's voice was clear.

"Just…wasn't working out." Punk ran a hand over his burning eyes. He really had stayed up for too long this time.

"He broke up with you?" Colt asked, eyeing him.

"No. I did," Punk admitted. He could at least not lie about that part.

"You broke up with him," Colt repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Man…I know you do something stupid things sometimes but I thought you guys were doing well. Why would you break things off?"

"Told you," Punk answered, sitting down at his kitchen table. "Things weren't working out."

"That's not what you said the last time I talked to you," Colt pointed out. "And you look like you haven't slept in days."

"I never sleep," He interjected but Colt ignored him.

"You look pretty miserable to me. And you never turn off your phone. So, what's going on? Why did you actually break up with him?"

"I told you-"

"And I don't believe you," Colt cut him off. He waited, and then pulled out his phone when Punk didn't answer. "Maybe I should call your sisters…think they'd be able to get it out of you?"

Punk glared at him. "Blackmail, Cabana? Really?" He'd never really been able to lie to his sisters.

"If it takes that," Colt said with a shrug, completely unapologetic.

"Fine. Put your fucking phone away. I did it to keep John out of the hospital."

Colt paused, frowned. "What?"

"You've been watching the show, I'm sure. Kane's been going after him for a while now. Only he's never actually tried to injure John and it's not just because he's trying to get John to 'embrace hatred'." He rolled his eyes as he said the phrase. "He knows how pissed Vince and the higher ups would be if John got injured before Wrestlemania. But he's not completely against it either. Especially if he can't get John to do what he wants."

"What does that have to do with you?"

"The asshole came after me too. Only once," he clarified when he saw Colt stiffen and saw anger in his expression. "Chris claims he convinced Kane to switch his focus to Ryder."

"Chris?"

"The guy hates me. I don't think he cares if he gets himself fired either. I honestly think he just came back this time around to make my life hell."

Colt crossed his arms. "So, he threatened John?"

"He's got Kane on his side. And I'm pretty sure Laurinaitis is as well. He hates John almost as much as he hates me. I'm talking permanent injuries here, Colt. Something that would put John out of action for good. I can't risk it. I can't call Chris' bluff on this one. Especially not with Kane and Laurinitus involved as well."

"You really think they could pull it off?" Colt asked skeptically. "John can take care of himself."

"But he's not Superman, despite what people might think. Most of the roster wouldn't dare try it, no matter how big they talk. I remember the shit that rained down on Barrett last year when he botched his finisher and put John out. And that was only for a few weeks."

"But you think they'd still do it?"

"Kane's a fucking psycho. He only needs a little push and Chris can do that. Chris doesn't give a shit about the trouble he might get into for it either. He'll follow through on this and I can't risk John getting severely injured…at least, I can't if I can stop it."

Colt's eyes were wide, his expression incredulous. "You made a deal with him."

"Had to."

"And now you're both miserable." Colt paused again. He seemed to be debating with himself on what he should say next. "There had to be a better way to deal with this."

Punk shook his head. He supposed he could have told John about it, but he hadn't wanted to risk it. Calling Chris' bluff had always been dangerous. He wasn't the only one who knew Chris well enough to learn that.

He was still going to hurt Chris himself for it, though. He was still going to find a way to make Chris pay, and Kane if he could but until he did find a way, he did not want to risk John getting hurt because of it.

Xxxxxxxxxx

John walked into the arena for the house show with a sense of almost dread. He'd spent the last several days at his home. He'd made excuses to his parents and brothers about why he couldn't come visit and spent his days wallowing…just a bit.

He was actually glad to be back at work, to have something to do other than lay in bed and stare up at his ceiling. They had house shows every night until RAW. The only problem, of course, was that Punk would be there and, although he hadn't seen the schedule just yet, they did tend to like to stick he and Punk in tag matches together during the house shows.

And he groaned when he was finally informed of this, that that dread had come true.

He really hated that his instincts had been so off about Punk. Most people thought he was too nice, and he was a nice guy, but he wasn't as naïve as everyone believed he was. He didn't hold grudges but he also didn't believe that it was impossible for people to lie and cheat.

Punk had seemed so sincere when he'd told John he was over Jericho. He'd waited weeks before he'd allowed John to even kiss him because he'd said he wanted to be sure. John had believed him when he said he was.

Maybe it was because John did know him and he'd never known Punk to flat out lie. Punk had said during several of his promos, and when not in front of a camera, that he was sure he was born without that filter most people had between their brain and their mouth.

The more John got to know Punk, the more he was sure that that was one the honest truth. Anything that crossed his mind seemed to want to come out of his mouth. So, that meant Punk had been telling the truth in that hotel room several days ago. He had made a mistake…

There'd been an irrational part of him that had been hoping Punk had been lying. But that had really been stupid. And all John was left with was the fact that he had been falling in love with Punk. He had been sure of that as soon as he had seen that damned video.