A Couple of Confrontations

Dolph was not happy. He was standing in one corner of the ring, alone this time, and staring across to where Punk knelt in the opposite corner. The expression on Punk's face worried him.

Being scheduled in a match against Punk just after he had ditched the man wasn't exactly ideal. There was a fierce look in Punk's eyes when he finally stood from the corner and Dolph was pretty sure that he was in trouble.

The rumors that had started backstage were distracting him as well. Rumors that were accompanied by evidence this time that made them not so much just rumors any longer. Dolph did not want to believe them.

When the bell rang and Punk immediately threw a hard kick to his gut, he doubled over, caught the rage dancing in Punk's eyes and knew he was in trouble.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy found John in the hotel. If he was honest, John had been expecting the confrontation much earlier. Like just after the rumors had started. He and Punk had perpetuated those rumors, made them solid.

The last time John had spoken to them they'd been fine. Great even. John hadn't been able to force himself to face Randy just yet. The confrontation was sure to be a messy one and John hadn't yet wanted to deal with it. But he didn't have a choice when he'd made it to his hotel room and Randy stopped him just as he was unlocking his door.

"Can we talk?" Randy asked as John opened the door. John simply nodded and stepped into the room, creating space between the two of them when Randy tried to step closer to him.

"What's up?" He asked, trying to keep his tone calm, even.

"Is there something wrong?" Randy asked first, finally giving up when John moved away from him again.

"Why would there be something wrong?" The hint of anger mixed with sarcasm in John's tone caused a frown to form on Randy's face.

"You've been…" Randy trailed off, paused a moment. "There's this rumor…"

"You mean the one about me and Punk?" John asked. "Maybe that's not a rumor," he suggested with a shrug.

"What?"

"Maybe it's not a rumor," John repeated slowly, all his anger coming back, building. "Maybe I decided you weren't good enough."

"But-"

"But what?" John cut him off, his tone turning mocking and he spoke without thinking, the uncharacteristic words coming out of his mouth due to the rage boiling over. For a moment, he really did hate Randy. Randy had played him, lied to him.

"Maybe I should thank you. I mean, we had a good time, sure, but that's it, right? Maybe it just wasn't good enough. What did you think? That we'd be together after that?"

Randy actually flinched at his words before his eyes narrowed and John saw anger in them. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Oh, no. Don't you dare get angry with me," John growled, taking a few steps closer to him. "You don't have the right. You don't get to act innocent here. Not after what you did."

"What exactly did I do, John?" Randy asked, closing the remaining distance between them.

"You know." He paused a moment, considered what he should say next but in the end, he had to be straight forward. He had to get it all out and in the open. "You and Ziggler? Your little bet?"

Randy paled, his eyes widened. "John-"

"I really do need to thank you, Randy," John interrupted. "If you weren't stupid enough to talk about it with Ziggler where someone could overhear, I might not have known. I might have made the massive mistake of thinking that you actually had changed from the complete asshole you've always been."

"John, I-"

"I really don't want to hear what you have to say. You can go now."

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph groaned as he made it back to the hotel. It was late, later than usual. Punk had drawn their match out. Dolph had been so distracted, had been put so off balance that he had lost easier than normal. Plus, Punk had been rather vicious. More so than normal.

Dolph figured he'd be feeling the effects from the match for a couple of days. It seemed that Punk still wasn't happy with him after what had gone down. Dolph wanted to be angry at the bruises he knew he'd acquired but he couldn't be.

He only felt guilty. A new emotion for him, one he hadn't felt in a long time anyway. But the anger and even hatred that he'd seen flash in Punk's eyes had surprised him. After the rumors that he'd heard about, he had been dreading the indifference he'd expected to see.

But it seemed he had had an effect on Punk. A strong one, too, if the ache in his joints was any indication. Dolph paused in the lobby when he spotted Punk a moment later, waiting on the elevator. He waited until the elevator doors opened and then ran to catch up with the man, making it inside just as the doors closed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Punk asked right away.

Dolph shook his head. "What does it look like?"

"What do you want?" Punk asked with a sigh, leaning against the wall of the elevator, watching him with an unreadable look.

"I want…" He trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. He'd made the decision to leave. He'd convinced himself that it was the right one.

But ever since he'd heard those rumors about Punk and Cena all he'd been able to think about was Punk. He'd been thinking about it so much that he hadn't brought his best during their match and he knew it.

Reaching over, he pressed the button to stop the elevator and he spoke without thinking. "I heard the rumors about you and Cena."

"And?" Punk raised an eyebrow, arms crossed and waiting.

"Figured they weren't true. You and Cena…"

"What? They couldn't possibly be true? What the hell do you care, Ziggler?" He grinned without humor. "Maybe you were just so bad in bed that I needed to erase that memory with someone else."

"I am not bad in bed," Dolph protested, with a frown. "I get your pissed at me."

"I'm not pissed, Ziggler," Punk said, although the look in his eyes suggested otherwise. "You can go back to playing your games with someone else." He pushed Dolph aside, and pressed the button. The elevator began to move again.

"You're not pissed? Right. Look, I'm sorry," he blurted the words out before he could stop himself. He hadn't spoken those words in years.

Punk turned to him, and rage once again flashed in his eyes. "Sorry? You're sorry? For what, exactly?" He took a step closer to Dolph, until they were almost in each other's personal space.

"I-"

"This was all some game to you, wasn't it? Why would you be sorry? You and Orton planned it out, didn't you?" He put his hand flat on Dolph's chest and pushed him backwards just as the elevator doors opened. "Fuck off, Ziggler, and leave me the fuck alone or next time the EMT's will have to carry you from ringside."

He walked out the door then and Dolph stared after him, remaining still long after the doors closed and he was left alone in the elevator.