AN: There is a suggestion of what was mentioned in the last chapter. If the mention of such is a problem, skip to the next chapter after "it will make sense now"
The next morning, The champion pulled Orton to the side for a moment.
" You are giving him his belt back." She whispered with a determined face.
"What? no! I worked hard for that belt. You can't just-"
"I can, and I will. There are things going on, that you can't know, yet. You can win it back in a few weeks, but you can't win it the way you did last night. Unless you want to give this up forever, Orton. Decide. Either lose the belt for a few weeks and get it back off of your own finisher, of keep the belt and lose us forever." She crossed her arms.
"How can you just speak for everyone like that? What about what I want, Huh? I want to be champion, I won fair and square, and I deserve this!" Orton spoke at a normal volume, but Punk came over, wondering what the fuss was about.
"What's going on. I heard yous guys all the way over there." Punk said quietly.
"She wants me to drop the belt or loose you guys forever."
"So drop it." Punk said, shrugging.
"What? I won! Why should I drop the belt?"
"I didn't say drop it for good, I said give it back and win it the right way, in a few weeks, without the Rock Bottom as your finisher."
Punk looked at Orton and crossed his arms. "Well, Orton, we went through a lot to bring you in to our little family. If you can't do this little thing for us, then I don't know how much I want you here anymore."
"Do I at least get to know why?"
"No, you don't. This is not about you, Orton."
"Yeah, damn right, it is about your husband, and how you and everyone else can't stand him losing." Orton pointed at John, who was intentionally not joining in.
"You can leave him out of your little ranting, Orton. You get to choose now. Us or the title. Later, when you find out why I asked this of you, you will know what the right choice was. What's it going to be?"
Orton stood for a moment, and then sighed. "You." He said, taking the belt off. "He is clearly the favorite."
"You don't know the whole story, orton and the belt is yours in a few weeks anyway, so hush, please. This will make sense someday."
"It will make sense now." Cena walked up, with a determined face. He stood there breathing deeply for a moment before he closed his eyes. 'Remember the night after WrestleMania when I called you crying but didn't remember it?"
"Yeah. You said you got drunk and kept changing the subject." Orton said with a concerned face.
"And how I was walking funnily for several days after?" his voice cracked slightly, and Punk's eyes widened as he realized what happened. Orton still didn't get it. "Yeah, I remember. You said something about pulling a glute or something."
"I, uh, I didn't get drunk, he- I didn't pull any muscles either."
Orton's realization dawned with anger. "What the fuck! The fuck! I was right there The fuck is wrong with me! Fuck!" and as soon as it arrived, the anger left, and Orton pulled Cena into his arms gently, shaking slightly. "Johnny-"
"don't feel bad, I lied to everyone." He said as his voice was slightly muffled.
Orton made a slight pained noise in his throat, then pulled away, with a dark sneer. He walked over and grabbed his bag, heading for the door.
"Where are you going, Ran?"
"Oh, just out, you know, and around."
"Ran."
"You don't need to know." And with that, he left.
"Why didn't you ask him where he was going?"
"Because I am pretty sure I already know."
"Where?"
"Out. And around."
"Seriously?"
"I think it's best left alone." The champion decided they should eat before they left, and Punk wrapped his arms around Cena, and then put his hands on each side of Cena's face.
"Look at you, huh? Just look at ya." He said an amusing tone. Cena chuckled slightly. "What did I do?" he asked with a puzzled grin.
"More about what you didn't do, really. Why don't you get over here and pound this ass, Handsome." Punk said it in an over animated tone, making Cena chuckle as he followed Punk to the couch. For the moment, all sadness was forgotten.