Chapter 2.
When most people would be just waking up at seven, Punk was wide awake. He couldn't sleep, even though his mind was drained. Insomnia, he'd decided years ago, was the gift that kept on giving. At least he wasn't late for his flight. That was a plus, he supposed. But spending several hours on a plane after not sleeping, after spending all night fuming about Jericho was not the highlight of his week. Also, he hadn't been able to keep his mind off AJ either. He'd refrained from texting her just yet but he didn't know how long that was going to last.
Colt, of course, was waiting for him in the airport with a smile on his face and looking as if he'd, at least, gotten some sleep. Punk stopped in front of him. "I hate you," he said first, without any heat whatsoever.
"I love you, too," Colt replied with a smile.
"Morning person," Punk grumbled, putting up a token protest when Colt reached for one of his bags.
"Morning," he replied taking one of the bags from him.
Colt started out and Punk automatically stepped in beside him. "I hate airports," he stated after a moment when he was almost shoulder checked by some guy trying to make it to his gate.
"They hate you too," he replied.
"People generally hate me." For a moment, he smiled like he was proud of that fact. "I can't figure out why."
"Me either, you're such a social person."
They made it out to Colt's car, keeping the conversation light between them. Thankfully. Punk seriously did not want to be talking about his issues in a crowded airport. After putting his bags into the back seat, both men got into the car and they began to drive the long way back to their neighborhood.
Resting his head against the back of the seat, Punk stared off into space a moment. He wondered idly what AJ was doing. He'd been thinking about her pretty much nonstop since he'd left the arena last night and what that bruise meant. He'd known Bryan for ten years and couldn't believe that the same man he'd known all those years would be the one to put a bruise on that girl.
"I'm so tired," Punk spoke softly, closing his eyes.
Colt glanced over to him, studying him a moment. "Figured." He paused. He'd seen the rage dancing in Punk's eyes earlier. "You're not going to break anything when we get there, are you?"
"No," Punk answered a little wryly. He'd been appropriately angry before but the mess with AJ had redirected that anger from Jericho to Bryan. And he really, really wanted to go find Bryan and beat the shit out of the guy.
Punk appreciated the fact that Colt wasn't pressing him about what had happened on RAW yet but he figured that might only last until they made it to his House.
Punk rubbed a hand over his face. The conversation with AJ had brought up plenty of memories all on its own. Things that he hadn't even told Colt before.
He'd never been one to overanalyze himself or his past. He'd tried to be the one to only look forward, to not let his past weigh him down...
"I can stay at your house with you if you want," Colt spoke, with a smile.
Punk shrugged and brought a knee up in his seat, "Yeah...sure," he answered, distractedly, his mind still other places. They sat in silence for a while.
Punk couldn't focus on anything with the memories of his childhood running through his mind.
It wasn't until Colt pulled up in Punk's drive and killed the engine that he turned to his friend fully. "You going to be alright?"
