This chapter takes place before, during, and after the Elimination Chamber pay-per-view.
He was the first one there. Punk had gotten to the arena for the pay-per-view very early. Early enough that he hadn't run into any of the other members of the roster on his way inside. He sat in his locker room, already dressed in his ring attire and waited, still halfway convinced that the phone call he'd made last night had been a mistake.
He ran a hand over his smooth, for the first time in ten years, jaw line. He'd shaved it all off after the last house show, when he'd looked at himself in the mirror and realized that he was starting to look disturbingly like the way he had when he'd formed the Straight Edge Society.
"You know, shaving doesn't make any less of an asshole," a voice called from the doorway.
Punk looked over and couldn't help the smirk that formed on his face. "No but being less of an asshole does. I think I'm getting soft." He stood, turned to face the man, who had crossed his arms. His suit jacket stretched over his massive shoulders and biceps.
"Maybe you are. You did call me and ask for help." There was a fair amount of amusement in Hunter's voice as he said these words.
"But you came here," Punk pointed out and he was a bit surprised about that. Punk had buried his grudge against Triple H the night the man had come down to the ring and saved his ass from Miz and Truth months ago but he had, before that, taken every opportunity to ridicule him.
"Yeah? Well, don't make the mistake of thinking I'm getting soft." But his eyebrows drew together in a frown then. "I've seen what's been happening between Cena and Kane. But Kane's a vet now. He wouldn't dare pull the kind of shit you're accusing him of."
Punk raised an eyebrow. He noted that Hunter was offering no such assurances about Chris and he was sure Hunter was wrong about Kane. Maybe a year ago, that could be said about Kane, but now….
"Really? You sure about that? Kane seems even more obsessed with going back to being the guy he was in the nineties than he is with anything else. That guy wouldn't have cared. That guy tried his best to put Undertaker out of action on more than one occasion."
Hunter rubbed a hand over his chin. "If anyone takes Cena out before Wrestlemania, before he can face Rock…they know how pissed Vince and the board will be. They've already started billing that match as "once in a lifetime". Kane knows that. Jericho knows that."
Punk grimaced. "Chris has already left twice. He doesn't give a shit what they do to him." He paused. "You've said before that I've never lied to you. So, I'm not lying now. Chris is great a bluffing but I know him. He's not this time. And I kind of think Kane is a little desperate to get back to that 'monster' he was in 97."
Hunter seemed to consider this a moment and Punk waited him out. He hoped Hunter helped him because his only other option was to try and take both Chris and Kane out himself. Which was doable, if he planned it right, but still a lot more dangerous. It wasn't as if Chris couldn't find a way to hurt John afterwards. Punk was sure that Chris could be a vindictive bastard even from a hospital bed.
"I think about it," Hunter finally answered and Punk sighed.
"Fine, alright. Thanks," he offered reluctantly.
Xxxxxxxxx
Rage simmered slowly in John's chest as he made his way into the arena. The ambulance match he'd been scheduled in wouldn't be until the end of the night but he had gotten there before the first match, which would be the WWE title match.
He wouldn't admit to himself the reason behind his early arrival. Couldn't admit that he knew how dangerous the Elimination Chamber could be, that he might be a bit worried about the injuries he knew Punk could obtain during that match.
This was sure to be a bad night, no matter if he won or not.
Xxxxxxxxx
Finding Kane was a bit harder than expected. Hunter had known Kane for nearly fifteen years and, the more he walked, the more convinced he was that Punk had been right. Hunter had been there for Kane's debut and the following years of his career.
Kane had come into the company as the monster that his nickname suggested but it had been Undertaker and Paul Bearer that had turned him into that monster. Over the years, that hatred had died down and Kane had begun to resemble a person.
He had also watched what Kane had been doing to Cena and Kane's obsession with getting Cena to accept hate had seemed a little strange to him. Maybe it wasn't about Cena at all, though. Maybe it was about being that monster that had made his debut at Bad Blood again.
Hunter did find Kane, however. The room Kane was sitting in was dark and the door was open. Hunter sighed and flipped on the light switch to gain the man's attention. The dark glare he received did not faze him.
"Hey, Glen," Hunter said with a smirk.
"Don't call me that." Kane stood and his words had been measured, his tone harsh.
"Why not? It's your name isn't it?" Hunter studied him a moment. "Put the mask back on, I see. Feeling nostalgic?"
"What are you doing here?" Kane stepped closer to him but the extra inches he had on Hunter did nothing to faze him. He simply glared back.
"I came to talk about your new obsession with Cena. And I came with a warning."
"A warning?" Kane laughed then, the sound completely humorless. "You're here to protect Cena."
Hunter shrugged. "I'm still your boss, even if I'm not general manager," he pointed out. "I still have the power to fire you or," he grinned, "you could spend the rest of your career working dark matches and Superstars…"
Kane took a few more threatening steps towards him and Hunter's smile only widened. "Think about it before you do it, Kane." When Kane remained still, Hunter continued, "here's the deal. You're going to go out of your way to make sure Cena's not injured tonight and then, after that, you're going to leave him alone. And if you don't, it's going to be more than me wanting your ass out."
Xxxxxxxxx
Punk knelt at the open doorway of the chamber, yelling a question at the refs who were tending to Jericho. He had to suppress a smile at the sight of Chris lying unconscious on the floor. He hadn't actually meant for it to happen but it looked like he'd gotten some bit of revenge when one of them informed him that they were taking Chris to the back, that he couldn't continue.
Xxxxxxxxx
"You did it?" Punk asked, mildly surprised, into his phone as he made his way down the hallway of the hotel.
"Gave the same warning to both Jericho and Kane. You might want to watch your back, though. I don't think Jericho's too happy with you right now."
"I can take care of Jericho, as long as I don't have to worry about the both of them going after John." He fell silent a moment before asking something else. "Why did you do it by the way? I wasn't even sure you'd help me when I called."
"I have told you before that I do things for the good of the business," Hunter reminded him. "Cena injured just before Wrestlemania is not good for business."
"Right, sure." Punk smirked a little. He'd gotten the impression that Hunter had started liking him during and after their brief time as tag team partners. And he was sure that had something to do with Punk being one of the only three on the roster that hadn't walked out on Hunter when he'd been running RAW.
"I'm being serious about Jericho. I don't even think I can keep him from going after you."
"Aw, you almost sound worried there, Hunter," Punk said, his smirk widening.
"I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about the bottom line. And I'm hanging up now. This does not make us friends."
Punk made a face even though Hunter couldn't see it. "Why would I ever think that?" He asked just before Hunter hung up on him.
His good humor evaporated almost immediately after he'd pocketed his phone and he realized that he was close to the room he'd been looking for. This wasn't going to be pretty and there was probably a ninety nine percent chance that it wasn't going to go in his favor.
Xxxxxxxxxx
The night hadn't been as bad as he thought it would be. John had won his match against Kane and he did feel better about that. At the very least, he had gotten some retribution. It didn't make him happy…he was sure nothing would at the moment, but it at least lifted something off his shoulders.
As had Punk's retention, no matter how much he didn't want to admit it. He'd sat cringing all the way through the chamber match and his stomach had rolled when Jericho had slammed the pod door against Punk's shoulder.
And John had seen the satisfied light in Punk's eyes when Jericho had been knocked out of the match. He was pretty sure no one else would have seen it but he had. There was a part of him that wanted to be sick at Punk being happy that he might have seriously injured the man. The bigger part of him, however, was relieved that it obviously meant Punk and Jericho were not together.
As if it mattered. As if he hadn't already seen proof of that the past few weeks on RAW. And he wondered, again, why he was thinking about this stuff. It really didn't matter. Punk still wasn't with him.
A knock on his door brought him out of his thoughts and he heaved himself up off his bed with a sigh. When he opened his door, he froze. Standing, looking uncomfortable with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans was Punk.
"Hi."