Sorry for the wait on this one. I was having a bit of trouble with this fic.

Xxxxxxxx

A Decision Made

Randy paused at the entrance to the hotel bar when he spotted the blond sitting there, drink in front of him. Hesitating only briefly, Randy walked over to him. Ziggler did not speak to him and Randy waited until after he'd ordered his own drink until he turned to the man.

"So, I'm guessing things didn't work out for you either?"

Xxxxxxxx

John was still sitting on his bed when the knock came on his door and he cringed. He doubted it was Randy again, not after what he'd said. He'd surprised even himself with the outburst, with the harsh words he'd used. He was less surprised to see Punk standing there when he opened the door.

"Hey, so I think I screwed my own plan up," Punk said by way of greeting.

John shrugged. "Yeah, me too." He let Punk inside.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I don't get it." Ziggler was frowning as he said the words and Randy knew he'd had a fair amount to drink before Randy had found him. "I only do the casual thing. No commitments, no relationships…"

"Okay." Randy drained the rest of his beer. "But what don't you get?"

"He hates me," Ziggler stated and it looked as if he was pouting. "And I…"

Randy snorted. "Yeah, I figured that. You like him."

"I do not," Ziggler automatically protested.

Randy smirked. "Right. Sure you don't. That's why you're pouting at a hotel bar with me."

"I'm not pouting," Ziggler protested but Randy's smirk only widened. The look on his face definitely constituted a pout.

Xxxxxxxxx

"So you kicked his ass huh?" John asked distractedly. Punk had dropped down on his back on his bed and it didn't look like he'd be leaving anytime soon. John only sighed and sat near Punk's feet, leaning against the headboard.

"Yes," Punk answered shortly. "He's an asshole."

"An asshole that you really like," John pointed out. He'd seen it, seen the way that Punk had looked at Ziggler and he'd seen how Punk had reacted when Ziggler had bailed on him after they'd slept together.

"Liked," Punk corrected. John didn't argue but he doubted it was past tense just yet. Punk lifted himself up on his elbows. "You and Orton?"

"I kicked him out," John admitted.

"Right…good."

Oh, yeah. It was great, he thought as he caught the expression on Punk's face. They were both miserable.

Xxxxxxxxx

"I'm going to get him back," Randy said, a determined gleam in his eyes that was most likely brought on by the alcohol he had consumed since he had sat down at the bar.

"He hates you," Ziggler said, his words slurring a bit more than Randy's. He had, after all, been sitting there for quite a bit longer than Randy.

"He hated me before and got over it," Randy pointed out. "I'll get him back. What about you? You gonna get Punk back?"

"Told you before. I don't do relationships."

"But you're miserable and drunk in a bar. Which means that you like the guy more than you're saying and you probably want to get him back." Randy was pretty sure of that, confident that his words were facts.

Ziggler did pout then. "It doesn't matter. He'd never trust me." He pointed at Randy. "Cena's the forgiving one. He's a total sap who will probably take you back. Punk's a total cynic that doesn't like anybody."

"So, you'll have to work harder." Randy shrugged with a grin. "You gonna just give up?"

"I should."

"But you're not going to."

Xxxxxxxx

Dolph woke to a pounding headache and a fleeting memory of sitting at a bar with Randy Orton. He lay still for several minutes, trying to wait out the pain in his head. Still, he remembered the entire conversation he'd had with Orton.

He hated that Orton was right. He couldn't seem to let this thing with Punk go. It was beyond irritating. More so than that, though, he could swear that he actually felt a pain in his chest when Punk had blown him off.

Shaking his head, Dolph reached for his phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Yeah?" the voice was gruff with sleep but Dolph felt no guilt in waking his friend up.

"Jack, hey. I need you to do me a favor."

Xxxxxxxx

Randy paced the halls backstage, still debating with himself. His conversation with Ziggler from the night before had done nothing for him but put into greater focus what an idiot he'd been. He'd been called an asshole before, too many times to count but he'd never felt like such an asshole as he did when John had accused him of it.

He stopped, finally, in front of John's locker room. The show was winding down, coming to an end. John had already had his match and he might have already left but Randy knocked on the door anyway and let out a breath when John did answer it.

"What the hell do you want?" John glared at him but didn't immediately slam the door.

"I need to talk to you," Randy said, a note of pleading entering his voice. He had never been one to beg but right then, he thought he might just do that if it would mean John letting him inside.

"I don't need to talk to you," John answered, his glare not letting up. He started to close the door but Randy put his hand against it, stopping it.

"Please. I just need to explain. I promise, all I want to do is talk but please, you have to hear me out."

John frowned, studied him a moment. He must have seen something convincing in Randy's expression because after a few moments, he sighed and opened the door wider, stepping to the side to let Randy in.

Xxxxxxxxx

Dolph had decided, after explaining his plan to Jack, on the direct approach. He figured it might work best with Punk, who was always very direct himself. He had no doubt Punk was going to be severely pissed off about what he had planned but it was the only way he could think of to get Punk to listen to him.

So, he waited until after RAW, until after Punk's match. He waited until the man was heading towards the parking lot. The door was open to the room he was waiting in. He'd picked that room for a reason. The door was rather heavy and not completely wood. It would work. The room wasn't large but big enough to fit two people.

The room was in the hall that led directly towards the parking lot and he waited just inside to where no one would be able to see him until they were standing at the doorway until Punk passed it.

Aware that he was about to surprise the other man and that that could lead to a black eye or a broken nose, he executed his move swiftly. He stepped out of the room, reached for Punk and grabbed his arm, swinging towards the room automatically and shoving Punk inside.

Punk let out a noise of surprise but when Dolph closed the door and turned to him, he glared. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I needed to talk to you," Dolph explained calmly.

"Go talk to the fucking wall, Ziggler," Punk growled. Dolph only shook his head and, after hearing what he'd been waiting for, he allowed Punk to push him aside and try to open the door. As he'd expected, it didn't budge.

Punk turned his glare back to Dolph. "Ziggler…" There was a threat, a warning in his voice but Dolph ignored it. He could picture Jack guarding the outside of the doorway after blocking it off. Jack wouldn't let them out until Dolph gave the say so.

"Like I said, we need to talk."