A/N: Okay, back with another chapter way sooner than I should, simply because I love you. Plus I had a burst of creative energy today, and typed a lot. So, this is the chapter that explains the 24hours between Amy outing them, and them going to Vince's office. Enjoy!

Recap:

"I don't care what Randy did! That does not me—" And then Punk cuts in, "RANDY RAPED JOHN!" Punk screams, and all goes silent. "Ohh…I'm so sorry." Vince sighs. [...] Are you okay? You're not yourself, John." Vince tries reaching out for John. "He's a fighter. He'll get better." Punk answers. "Would you quit answering for him!" Vince yells. "He's not talking!" Punk explains. "Whataya mean he's not talking?" Vince asks. "He's not fucking talking! He stopped speaking! No words come from his mouth! He hasn't barely said a thing since Amy out-ed us." Punk sighs, [...] Philip, you're suspended for 30 days. John, you take 30 days off to heal and get yourself together, alright?" Vince says. [...] "Goodnight, John. Love you." There's hope in Punk's voice. Dead hope. John hasn't said he loves him since Vince's blow-up after Amy's outing. Punk always wonders if it's because John blames him for everything that's been happening. Punk sure knows he blames himself. Everything bad that's happened is all his own fault. [...] He gets pulled out of his thoughts when John lifts a hand and lays it to Punk's face. Punk smiles, and lays his own hand on top of John's. "You okay?" He asks John, who simply nods. "I've got a surprise for you tomorrow, okay?" Punk states, and John smiles a bit and nods. "Night, gorgeous." He gives John's hand a little squeeze, before falling asleep.

Sunday Night; Punk & John's Bedroom:

As Punk sleeps soundly, arms wrapped tightly around John, he dreams about everything that's happened in the last 24 hours.

Flashback

Sunday Morning; John's Tampa Home:

"Alright, Vince. We'll see you tomorrow." Punk sighed, finally hanging up with Vince. He shoved the phone in his pocket, then turned to John. John just stood there staring at his reflection in the car window. He was turning pale, and becoming light headed.

"Well, at least we still have a job." Punk sighed, not noticing John's condition. "John?" No response, "John? You okay? John?" Still no reply, "Babe, are you okay?"

Before John, or Punk, could do anything about it, John collapsed. Punk dropped down and caught John, before he could bang his head against the concrete. "Oh fuck! OH FUCK! John? John, wake up! John! Baby, wake up! Shit." Punk reached behind him, grabbed his luggage, and slammed it on the ground, putting John's head on it to rest. He ran in the house, got a glass of water, and ran back outside. "John? John, can you hear me?" He wasn't waking up, so Punk had no other choice. He slowly poured water over the top of John's head, and after a second, John jumped up, flinching away from the water. Punk dropped to his knees, "Oh, thank God I didn't have to call an ambulance! Are you okay, baby?" Punk asked, cupping John's face. John recoiled though. He backed away and put his hands over his face. "John? Talk to me. Are you okay?" John gave no reply. "John, speak to me!" Punk yelled, but John just shook his head. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" Punk asked, and John shook his head again. "Come on. Let's get off the ground and get into the car. Okay?" Punk said, squatting in front of John and trying to take his hand. John flinched away from him a bit, but eventually let Punk get him off the ground.

Punk immediately realized he was back in the mode he was in when Punk found him in the shower.

After getting John situated in the car, Punk took a minute to take some deep breaths. He's got to deal with this situation more carefully this time. After getting the house locked up, the rest of the luggage in the car, and making sure John's all fastened in and content, Punk headed off for the airport.

The entire car ride to the airport was silent. Punk tried asking questions occasionally, but John refused to reply. The entire ride, John just sat with his hands clasped in his lap, staring at the glove compartment area, with wide eyes, and a pained look on his face. He flinched every time Punk touched him. Punk hated seeing him back like this.

They arrived at the airport, and John just silently grabbed his things, and silently followed Punk inside. Punk got their luggage checked in, then pulled out their Club Passes and dragged John to the United Club area. Punk noticed how almost everyone in the airport was staring at them, and not one person came up and asked for an autograph. Not even the little children whose eyes widened when they saw CM Punk and John Cena walk past. Once in the United Club area, Punk took John over to a couch. John laid down on the couch, and Punk placed a blanket over him. After arguing with the lady at the desk for a few moments, and getting their seats upgraded to a United Economy Premium Service Cabin, Punk sat in a chair next to the couch John was on, and pulled out his phone to distract him from the leering eyes of the other United Club members.

It was on the plane that Punk realized he was going to have to start talking for John too. John refused to answer the hostess' questions when she asked about food. He also realized John wasn't going to eat. He ordered himself an Asian Noodle Salad, and an Angus Cheeseburger for John. John ate maybe two bites of his sandwich whole, picked it apart and ate the pickles and tomato, drank a few sips of his drink, and accepted only two bites of noodles off Punk's plate. After picking at his dinner, John laid down and went back to sleep again.

Their time at the hotel is what made Punk realize what he had to do the next time he sees Orton. He had to kill him.

After the plane ride, they caught a cab to their hotel. Punk checked in while John sat quietly in the lobby. Once to the room, Punk got the luggage in the closet, and made John get in the bed. He gave him the remote and told him to just watch TV as he showers. He needed time to himself to think about everything. He took a long, hot shower, trying to relax all the stress away that had built up since Amy out-ed them.

What the fuck was he supposed to do now? His relationship had gone public, and his boyfriend was now a shell of his former self because of it. At that point, all Punk wanted was a nice nap before they had to head to the arena.

He exited the shower and dressed in some shorts. John was still content watching TV. Before Punk got the chance to climb into bed himself, a commercial for the PPV came on. It was a Randy Orton commercial, and the moment it came on, John freaked out. He started screaming and yanked the blankets over his head. Punk quickly shut off the TV, then went to check on John.

John was in full-fledged break-down mode. It was the hardest Punk's ever seen John cry, and every time Punk tried to touch him, John swung at him...hard. It took 30 minutes for things to calm down. Punk eventually got John restrained, and John cried himself to sleep.

At that very moment, Punk realized what he had to do to Orton. Randy had turned John into this horrible, terrified, shell of his former self, and Punk wasn't going to stand for that. He wasn't going to just let that happen without any repercussions.

Punk waited till the last minute to get himself and John up. He wanted to give John enough time to calm down before the show. When he woke John up, and once John came to, John quickly scooted away from Punk's hold, and sort of cradled himself. "John, baby, it's going to be okay. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you anymore, alright?" Punk told him, and after staring for a moment, John nodded and cuddled back into Punk's hold.

Punk eventually got John and himself ready, and caught a cab to the arena. He took John into their private dressing room and got changed into his gear. "You can't wrestle tonight, huh?" Punk asked John, knowing he was in no condition to fight. John didn't reply though. He only stared at him. Just stared with an empty, blank look on his face. "Let me finish getting ready and we'll go to Vince about your match." Punk told John, then proceeded to get ready. Once donned in his trunks, boots, and t-shirt, Punk led John out of the locker room to the corridor.

"Fuck, forgot to put my phone away. Stay here, I'll be right back." Punk went back in the locker room to toss his phone. As John stood outside the door, he kept his head down, not wanting to see the looks on the faces of every WWE Superstar and Diva that passed him, judging him. That's all he could think about.

As he waited, he suddenly felt a hand on his ass. "Hey, faggot. So you made it. Where's your boyfriend? Did he leave you like I said he would?" John looked up and was met with the eyes of the Viper. He stilled. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. He couldn't even scream for Punk. He didn't need to though. Punk was already on his way out of the locker room when he heard Randy's voice.

He quickly threw the door open, and launched his body at Randy. His fists and kicks were going everywhere on Randy's body. There was no game plan, there was no attack plan. There was only rage. There was only a rage built up inside him, and at hearing those words that Randy said to John, and the fact that Randy even had the audacity to speak to John, the rage boiled over and Punk took it all out on Randy's face and body, as he rightfully should.

As he attacked him, he blacked out. He can't remember anything but the feel of his blows connecting, the sound of bones breaking, and the sound of Randy's cries and pleads.

The next thing he knew, he was being lifted in the air, and when he came to, he realized it's Paul who had him hoisted up over his shoulder, and John's arm in his other hand. Punk quickly kicked him till he's dropped, then went back on the attack on Randy's broken and bloodied body. Paul again snatched him up, and hoisted him over his shoulder.

It was then that he realized there was a big crowd of Superstars and Divas crowded around them. It was also then that he realized John's condition. He had wide, terrified eyes, and there was blood on him, along with a bruise on his arm. Was that Randy's blood? Or…did John get hit too? Was that where the bruise came from? Did Randy hit him?

Punk tried one last time to attack Randy yet again, but again, Paul picked him up, then proceeded to drag them both to Vince's office.

Before Punk's dream can continue, he's woken up by a sound. He raises up in the bed, and sees the light in the bathroom on. It was the sound of the toilet flushing that woke him up. The water faucet runs for a moment, then it's turned off along with the lights. The door opens, and John walks out.

"You okay, baby?" Punk asks. John nods, then crawls back into bed, cuddling close to Punk again. "You sure you okay?" Punk asks again, wrapping John tightly in his arms. John again nods.

"You know what I was just thinking about?" Punk asks, chuckling a bit. The laugh sparks John's curiousity, and instead of letting sleep take over him, he tilts his head to look at Punk. "Remember," He gives another laugh to himself, "Remember when we were on my bus? We were leaving the apartment and on the way to the PPV? We were talking about our relationship and," He chuckles again, and John's starting to wonder why he keeps laughing, because as far as he can recall, none of the conversation they had that night was amusing the least bit, "I said that you were something I could take in, and I fix and make better?" Punk asks, and John nods, remembering clearly.

Before Punk replies, the moment quickly flashes in his head: I saw you as this hurting, broken, goddamed beautiful, perfect disaster that I could take in and take care of, and maybe I could finally say I have something, or that I fixed something, and that I didn't fuck it up. You were finally something I could make better. I just, I figured I couldn't fuck this up!

"Yeah, well…look how that worked out," His hand caresses across John's face, "I didn't make you better the least bit. In fact, I've officially completely broken you. I've officially fucked this all up, haven't I?" Punk asks, the frustration and anger clear in his voice, and he slams his hand down on the bed in a rage, making John jump. He then takes his hands and rakes them over his face and head, trying to calm his frustrations. John quickly leans into him, grabbing his arm, "No. No! No! No. No." John just repeats the word over, and over.

He wants Punk to understand that Punk hasn't fucked up. He wants Punk to understand that he still loves him.

Punk sees John getting all worked up and frustrated at trying to reduce an entire speech path into one repeated word, so he quickly grabs John's arm with one hand, and lays a single finger to John's lips with the other. "Shh. I hear you. I understand. I understand. I do." Punk promises. He can see the tears building up in John's eyes. He's got himself all bent out of shape, and now he's got John all worked up and falling deeper into the hell hole he's pushed John into. "I didn't mean to get you all worked up. I'm sorry. You need to go to sleep, okay?" Punk begs, just wanting to just get away from John's burning, pleading stare. John nods and pushes his body tightly into Punk's arms. "Goodnight, babe. I love you." Punk whispers, and John nods yet again, trying to cuddle as close as possible to let Punk know that everything is okay, before they both drift off back to sleep.

A/N: Okay, so for those that haven't figured it out yet, I say it specifically in another chap, but I'll just stay it now too. The PTSD was brought on by the rape, Amy outing them, Vince calling, and a special surprise that's part of John's secret plans he has. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Leave your thoughts, predictions, and/or questions in a review please! My next update probably won't be till Monday, since I basically updated three days in a row almost. Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading :)