I do not own any of these characters, nor do I know anything of their sexual preferences. This is entirely a work of fiction.

I loved him. He was funny. He was smart. He was cool. I hated him. He was an ass. He was arrogant. He didn't even know I existed.

I guess I should've expected it. I mean, he's Raven, a legend in the industry. I'm nothing but a newb. A lowlife. CM Punk.

I guess this is something of a confession I never made. I mean, when we were in TNA, I adored him. I idolized him. Nothing compared to him when I was starting up. But I was straight-edge. That was probably the first thing that turned him away from me. And with everything he did... I couldn't have dealt with him. I know that now. I sure as hell didn't then.

I remember watching him with the other guys in the Gathering. They were his little pets. His slaves. They did everything for him. Everything. I couldn't do that. I couldn't degrade myself that much. I guess disobedience was another thing he never liked.

But when we were alone... man, the man could talk. He'd say things I'd never thought of, talk in a way that you'd never hear when he was on the microphone. The fans preferred him stupid, I guess. He'd make a joke, and you'd have to listen careful, or you'd miss it. It was like... like watching a good old comedy. You only catch it if he lets you. More than anything, when we were alone, he'd tell me stuff that I could tell he hadn't told anyone else. He'd let me into that little part of him that I swear no one else has seen. How do I know? He told me so himself.

Raven told me so much... How bad his depression really was. How often he'd sunk down so far he couldn't remember himself. How the crowd was saving him from leaving. How we were saving him from himself. He acted like he cared about me. He told me I was the one he liked most.

But when we were in front of everyone else... He'd act like I wasn't there. Or say things to embarrass me. Or bring up the option he had to get rid of me. He'd be so much nicer to everyone else. But me? I was the punching bag.

He'd take me back after matches, and in front of half the locker room, I'd get my ass kicked. For nothing. He'd just be pissed off, and take it out on me.

But when we got back to being alone, he'd apologise. He'd clean me up, ice me, and make me feel better again. So I'd forgive him.

And then he fired me. And the WWE offered me a contract. And he went downhill. I watched his downfall from the sidelines. Into the drugs, into his depression, he sunk when I left. I grew into a star, and he fell from his. He was the dying star in the sky, and I was the one that spawned from its explosion.

He called me up a little bit after I got my title. Said he was sorry for everything. Said he needed me. I hung up the phone on him. I'm never going back there again. The Gathering is over. Raven has taken his final flight in my eyes.

So, in a sense, I guess I was the important one. He didn't lie. But he didn't tell me the whole truth either. He didn't tell me that I was most important because I'd let him beat on me. He didn't tell me that I was his venting subject. He didn't tell me that I was saving him.

He died earlier this year. I went to the funeral. No one else was there. Not even his family. I felt so bad... I cried. Because, after all that, I still loved him.

His inscription on his headstone made me laugh a bit. He asked for, "The flightless bird has no reason to sing. But the one that does, has someone to free him. In the end, I flew." He'd sent me a message with that in it, and nothing else. Titled it, headstone. I didn't know why until I got the call.

Raven flew in the end. Supposedly, it was me that made him fly. But I know that's not true. As much of an ass as he was, he made me fly. He made me into CM Punk. But, I'll forever be a member of the Gathering. I'll forever call myself one of Raven's Flock.

Ah, and there's another. Just this cute little one-shot. Kinda sad. But it's based between TNA, for Raven, and the WWE and TNA for CM Punk.