I probably should have combined this chapter and the last…

Back pressed against the turnbuckle, crouched down a bit, John waited for Punk's music to hit with equal parts dread and impatience. At first, he had been happy to be back at work. Now, he just wanted the night to be over. He wanted to skip past these house shows to RAW, where he knew that he and Punk would not be in any sort of tag match together.

When Punk's music did play through the arena, John ignored the uproar from the crowd and trained his gaze on the man as he made his entrance. To his surprise, Punk did not make his normal entrance. No kneeling at the top of the ramp, no yell of the Thing's catchphrase.

Punk walked straight down to the ring. His arms were hanging at his side, the title gripped in the fingers of his right hand. John straightened when Punk stepped into the ring and he frowned at the sight of the man.

Punk was refusing to meet his gaze and John stared at him. John had been around Punk long enough to recognize that he looked like shit. The baggage under his eyes was more pronounced than ever. He looked pale and, while he'd never been clean shaven, his beard had never been as long, at least not since the Straight Edge Society had disbanded. And, when he took his shirt off, John swore that he looked skinnier than he had the last time he'd seen Punk.

Despite what had happened between them, John felt worry invade his chest at the sight. He kind of hated himself for it and maybe he was just too nice of a guy but at the same time he couldn't help it. It was, he supposed, ingrained in him. And however angry he was at Punk for the way things had ended between them, it still didn't erase the growing feelings he'd developed for the man.

John tried his best to suppress that worry when Miz's music hit and put his mind to the match they were having.

Xxxxxxxxx

By the time he made it backstage after the match, Punk was convinced that someone was trying to punish him. Because being put in a tag match with John was surely punishment. Well, it felt like it anyway.

He sat on the bench in his locker room for a while after he'd made it back there and, once again, tried to think of what he was going to do about the situation. He'd promised himself that he'd get back at both Kane and Chris but he wasn't sure how to do that without hurting John in the process.

Colt had been asking him if he could call someone else, if he could ask someone else for help and the suggestion had made Punk grimace. There was one person he could call. One person that had the clout to help him out of this mess.

But he still really hated the idea of calling that man and he wasn't entirely sure if it would do any good, if he would help anyway. He was pretty much viewing making that phone call a last resort.

So, he didn't call…at least not that night.

Xxxxxxxx

It was the RAW before Elimination Chamber that John was convinced that the mess with Punk, combined with the mess with Kane, had finally driven him crazy. Letting Eve kiss him, and kissing her back, was probably the dumbest thing he'd ever done.

He was well aware of that when he saw Zack's horrified face and John was faced with another disappointment. He lost Zack as a friend because of it. He knew it as soon as he'd pulled away from Eve.

For a second, before he walked away, he wondered if Punk was watching. He wondered how Punk would feel about it but he pushed those thoughts away. He hadn't spoken to Punk at all in the weeks since they'd broken up and he'd tried not to think about the man.

When he got back to his locker room, he knew he was in trouble. He already had one missed call from his mom and he knew he was going to have to explain that kiss to her as well. For the moment, however, he dropped his phone in his bag and sat down. He really needed to work that out himself first.

Xxxxxxxxx

The weeks following his break up with John passed in a blur of exhaustion. His insomnia had been bad, but manageable, before. But after, it had gone into overdrive and he was barely sleeping at all.

It was the RAW before Elimination Chamber that finally brought him to his breaking point, that finally made him make that call that he had been putting off.

Watching John kiss Eve had, quite possibly, been one of the most painful things he'd had to watch. Watching that and realizing that Chris had gotten what he wanted. That he had most likely lost John for good…

He'd torn his gaze from the monitors with both anger and pain raging in his chest. He'd done that. And dialing that number had been easier than ever. When he brought the phone to his ear, he was squeezing it so hard he was surprised that it didn't crack. It rang twice before the man picked up.

"Hello?"

Punk squeezed his eyes shut, pinched the bridge of his nose and didn't hesitate. "I need your help."