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Night of Champions had finally rolled on, Phoebe had noticed how everyone in the locker room was on the edge of their seats for the pay-per-view. She and the creative team had been working for weeks on the drafts, careful directions of what was going to happen and who was going to win, but she wasn't born yesterday. To them, it was just a piece of paper with words on – the superstars were going to keep selling and do what they do best until the victor was scheduled to win. The last two pay-per-views had been out of control and this was Phoebe's first time officially working on one – so far, everything was going to plan. But she knew that everyone was not happy, she had heard rumours around the locker room that because of her some of the matches were fixed, due to favouritism, for example, Kofi and Evan's win over Miz and R-Truth, Dolph's win during the fatal four way and Triple H's win over Punk. Not to mention Beth was losing in her home town.

She had very little say in who was to win during each match, her main focus was Punk's storyline, but to her surprise he hadn't uttered a word. She knew he was unhappy, nevertheless she had plans for him. She was keeping things professional, she had reason not to and she had every intention to seek revenge, but chose not to. He would soon get his championship match and soon get a storyline that would have audiences wanting more. Regardless, she hated how unhappy everyone was, it upset her even more that they thought it was her fault. She hadn't uttered a word to anyone backstage, she had decided to keep her distance from Nick, he had gotten awfully smitten with Amy and had seen them together backstage. Phoebe wasn't looking for a relationship per se but she couldn't help the crush developing inside of her, similarly to when she was Punk's assistant.

Phoebe's place was now in the gorilla area, running through any final demands from the creative team and running through any changes or just simply reminding them what was going to happen. It amazed her to see the wrestlers so confident and poised, not a single shaken body in the place, they were pumped and ready to get out there. The energy was ecstatic, only hours ago had she sat beside the ring watching fans flock into the arena, now it was packed and they were chanting, booing, screaming names. The matches tonight had gone smoothly, she only hoped that the last match, Triple H vs Punk would go just as smoothly as the others.

"How're you feeling Paul? You ready?" Paul's large frame appeared behind Phoebe's, she knew when he was around, it had was a kind of instinct that she had become accustomed to now. She turned around to see him in his trunks, game face on. It was nothing like she had ever seen before, sure she had seen him wrestle on TV and even live in an arena, but seeing him stand there she knew he was the real deal. Every dollar the fans had spent to see Night of Champions live was not going to waste and he was going to make sure of it.

"Don't know about you but I'm ready to wrestle," Paul's voice was low and husky, no sense of friendliness, Stephanie is one lucky bitch.

"Have fun out there," Phoebe motioned the music technicians to hit Triple H's music, The Game started to play blasting throughout the entire arena, as expected there were more boo's than there were cheers, Paul did play the heel very well. Phoebe hated to admit it, but she knew someone who could play it even better.

Punk arrived standing behind Phoebe just like Paul had just done, bouncing on the balls of his feet, Phoebe had seen this countless amount of times, it always fascinated her – she just couldn't wait to get away from him.

"Didn't think you'd be around here, I was wondering where you were," Punk spoke, his tone surprised Phoebe. It wasn't steady or confident like she remembered, something to do with him losing tonight perhaps.

"Why would you be wondering that?" Phoebe meant the question to be rhetorical but somehow Punk managed to answer.

"I've been meaning to tell you something Phoebe, for a while and – "

"Guys, cue Punk's music," Phoebe called out not wanting to hear any bullshit Punk was about to spew. Triple H's cut and Cult of Personality hit before Punk could get a word in, Punk closed his mouth disappointed but his face quickly rearranged back to his game face, scowling and ready to fight. The straight edge superstar turned his back away from the petite woman and headed out to the cheers of the crowd, the Punk chants were deafening but backstage everything was quiet. Punk's match was always a match to watch silently, awe struck and admiration on everyone's face. Phoebe couldn't help but roll her eyes, he's a great wrestler, but goddamn is he a fucking asshole.

CM Punk and Triple H had been booked for a clean win for Triple H, and the team of Miz and R-Truth, The Awesome Truth were also set to attack them during the match. What no one in the locker room knew, apart from Punk, Triple H, Stephanie and the Creative Team was that Kevin Nash was making his way through the crowd to attack the two wrestlers. As Punk and Paul Levesque made their way backstage, the entire locker room of the Superstars and Divas awaited them in the backstage area.

"Holy shit, we weren't expecting that!" Matt spoke as he sprinted behind Punk, having lost his spirits were still pretty high, he still had that buzz and could probably still do with wrestling for another 15 minutes until he was worn out.

"Thank the new addition to the WWE Creative Team, Phoebe! She's got loads more in store for you guys. Great job everybody, this pay-per-view was fantastic, and I'll see you tomorrow bright and early for Raw tomorrow," Stephanie smiled as she stood proudly next to her husband.

"As anyone actually seen Phoebe?"

Phoebe finished loading her suitcase into the trunk of the rental car, the pay-per-view was over and she was knackered. Tomorrow was going to be the start of yet another gruelling travel week, Monday Night Raw's were always exceptional after the PPV'S and ever better than them, in her opinion. However, tomorrow's Raw was taking place on the other side of the country, heading west – she had no luck finding plane tickets having only found out tonight where Raw was taking place, so Phoebe decided on starting her 15 hour drive now, alone. Sighing after everything was neatly packed away, she closed the lid of the boot and gasped when the open space revealed CM Punk standing there.

"Fucking hell!" Phoebe rolled her eyes and shook her head.

He didn't say anything. She looked around and noted that there was no one else standing in the dark parking lot except for the two of them. A chill ran through her body as she felt fear consume her.

"Phoebe."

"What do you want, Punk? Why are you here? Because let me tell you something, I don't have time for this and I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit."

"No," he said quietly. "I just want to talk to you."

"Dammnit," she shot back.

"Please."

"I don't have anything to say to you," she turned to walk away but stopped when a firm hand placed a grip on her much smaller arm.

He held her in place until he walked in front of her, blocking her path. He towered over her, his green eyes boring a hole right through her as Phoebe tried to keep her calm.

"Just for a minute, please Phoebe."

"Get – your - hands – off - me," she spoke through gritted teeth.

Punk noticed that this wasn't the same Phoebe he had met months ago, she had become defiant, she was standing up for herself, but there was something deeper Punk saw as he studied her. He saw fear. She was afraid of him and it made him feel sick, his stomach turning as he saw the look of terror in her eyes. Instantly he flinched.

"Sorry, look…I didn't mean to scare you. I just…I just need to talk to you, I promise you it won't take long."

She gave him a icy glare. His face looked worried, embarrassed, he wasn't smirking, sneering or hurling insults at her. He looked like a different CM Punk altogether but Phoebe wasn't stupid. She just needed to get away from him.

She still held her heavy stare as his shoulders sagged miserably, "What more do you want Punk? What more can you do to hurt me?"

"Nothing! I don't want to hurt you Phoebe, this is what I'm trying to say. I really fucked up. The wedding, the way I treated you, It really opened my eyes, godamnit I haven't slept or eaten properly in weeks, I - ."

"You're upset because of what happened with Amy, this wouldn't be happening if Amy hadn't cheated on you. You couldn't realise on your own what you did was wrong, that's really fucked up, you know that right?" she raised an eyebrow.

" I shouldn't have done it, any of it. I know everything I have said and done was really shitty and horrible, yes what happened with Amy opened my eyes, but I – I don't know what happened Phoebe. I'm just sorry, alright? I'm so sorry, I don't know why I said any of those things."

She still wasn't convinced.

"Then why did you?"

He could only shrug his shoulders. It was a question he had asked himself a million times over and a million times later, he still had no definitive answer.

"I don't know. I was an jerk."

"You are a jerk."

He chuckled in spite of the situation.

"You're right."

"What are you doing?"

"What?"

"What is this? Why are you being like this?"

"Phoebe I'm trying to apologize, I was wrong and I wanted to let you know how sorry I was. I know it's not enough but it's something. It is what it is."

"And you were expecting me to forgive you, right? You thought I'd fall for this nice Punk act and drop down to my knees and show my admiration for you all over again?"

"I …"

"Punk you're doing this because you've lost everything, the only thing you have left is your job, you'e lost the love of your life, you've lost the respect of your fellow companions, they just feel sorry for you. I don't know what you want me to do, but I'm not accepting your weak ass apology."

"Phoebe, don't - " The truth was, that didn't mean anything to him, he already knew what she was saying was true. He could feel it whenever he walked into the locker room and he could feel it whenever he got back to his bus or hotel room, alone. His life was spiralling out of control and he was slowly growing distant from his friends and family. Punk knew he deserved it, he paying the price and was feeling emptier as each day passed. Wrestling was his only motivation, it was the only thing keeping him going.

"Phoebe, I've said a lot of bad things," Punk began. "I can't make excuses for that stuff, it was disgusting and I'm fucking ashamed of everything,. Pretty much since I've been back, I'm alone, and …"

You fucking deserve it, "And?"

"I just needed to make things right, I don't know. I've not been able to concentrate knowing I did those things to you."

"Yeah, well sorry Punk but I'm not buying it."

"You don't have to and I don't blame you? Not many people like me and I said some pretty messed up stuff to get your attention, to get you to break. I don't know why. Maybe because you were so vulnerable and an easy target, I guess I didn't know what I was doing and I took it too far.

"You guess? Okay I'm sure this isn't the first time you've tried to hurt someone and I'm pretty sure it isn't going to be your last. Punk what you did was unforgiveable."

"I know Phoebe, but that look on your face, every time I hurt you or said anything, I always remember it. And, I just, something unexplainable happens inside of me, I can't believe it was me that did those things."

"Good. Because it was you that did those things. And please, don't expect me to feel sorry for you. You deserve everything that's coming at you. Whatever you're trying to pull here isn't working, don't think for a minute that I forgive you, you're a vile, disgusting human being."

"I know you think that and you have every right to think that. There's nothing I can do to prove you wrong. I just wanted to tell you that the past few months I've treated you badly. I was a real jerk. I was an asshole and there is nothing I can say to make you feel better. I'm fucking ashamed of what I've done. I don't do apologies Phoebe, you've probably guess that by now."

"And I still haven't heard one. All I've heard is a lot of bullshit and you trying to make excuses for your bad behavior and in the process ease your guilty conscience."

"I'm sorry, okay. I know it's what you deserve so there it is. I said it. I'm sorry for everything that I've done to you."

"I deserve an apology and a lot more but you're not gonna get off that easy, you don't just get to walk away. I'm not gonna do that Punk You've said and done too much. And you just don't care. You made my life here hell, I worshipped you and this company and you saw me as vulnerable and got off by fucking with my life. Now because fucking Amy cheated and dumped you on your ass you actually feel bad about it. I guess I'm supposed to just shake your hand, give you a pat on the back and accept your "apology" and go about our own ways pretending like nothing ever happened?"

He ran his tattooed hand through his hair.

"No, I didn't expect that at all."

"Then what did you expect?"

He looked in her eyes. She was fucking angry. Of course she was. She wasn't letting him off the hook and Punk could feel himself choking up. This was who Phoebe really was. Standing there in sneakers, skinny jeans and a blouse, made up with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail, she was so young yet so grown up at the same time.

"I don't know what I expected. I don't deserve anything. I just wanted apologize and let you know how I'm feeling. It never should have treated you like this. You should be able to come to work and do your job and not have to worry or feel scared."

Phoebe took one step back.

"From the first day I came to this company, you made my life here hell, I would cry knowing I would have to come here every day and work for you. I never did anything to you except serve you and be you assistant but you, you kept coming at me trying to break me, hurt me. Well mission accomplished Punk. You can apologize all you want because your words mean nothing to me. You mean nothing to me."

"They say actions speak louder than words."

"Fuck your actions. I don't give a shit. All these weak ass apologies mean nothing and they will never change how I feel. If you really want to do me a favour, you'd stay the fuck away from me. You won't even talk to me, you leave me and Nick alone."

"Yeah, he made that clear the other night."

"What?"

"I ran into him in the hotel. Threatened to kill me if I ever hurt you again.

Phoebe grinned, Nick always looking out for her, "You're not even worth it you prick."

Her words were slow and deliberate and for the life of him, Punk couldn't figure out why they stung him so much.

"I get that you're mad and you're probably gonna be mad for a long time. That's okay. I, I guess I just want you to know I'm for real. Look, we're never gonna be buddies for life but maybe we can at least squash all the bad blood. I'm just trying to be the good guy."

Reluctantly he extended his hand. Phoebe looked at it with utter disgust.

"Get away from me, Punk. Just go to hell."

He watched her brush past him, get in the car and drive out of the parking lot. Phoebe left him standing there until he disappeared from the view in her rear mirror. Without any sense of direction she drove for a few miles but the tightness in her chest and the sweat on her palms was so overwhelming that she was forced to pull over at the next exit. She forced out a deep breath.

What the hell had just happened? The humility, the sincerity, the genuineness? It made her mad as hell. How dare he? From their very first encounter he had been nothing short of a monster who had made it his mission to make her life a living hell. He had managed to succeed and after repeatedly humiliating her and breaking her spirit, now she was just supposed to believe he was sorry? She was supposed to accept that and be fine and forgive and forget? That was never going to happen.

But something inside her was bubbling, the way he had grabbed her arm had sent shivers of fear throughout her small frame. God, she hated him. And hate was such a strong word. Phoebe Walker had never hated anyone in her life but CM Punk had managed to bring out the worst in her. Unfortunately, she had the greatest pleasure of being his assistant. She knew she would see him again, every day until she stopped working here. The very thought made her want to vomit and she had no idea what she was going to do. As she struggled to breath, salty tears rolled down her cheeks, as memories of Punk's words came flooding back to her. Fuck CM Punk.