The Memory Remains

Chris knew going into the segment that using real alcohol was a bad idea. He'd argued with creative for two days straight, pointing out all the reasons why exposing a hardcore Straight Edge believer like Punk to hard liquor was an extremely wrong thing to do, but in the end, they wouldn't listen and the stunt bottles were filled with tequila accordingly.

Bottoms up! It took every bit of control Chris had not to flinch when he saw the look of shocked surprise on Punk's face when some of the alcohol got into his mouth. For a brief second they locked eyes and all the blonde could see was a look of unbelievable pain.

I'm sorry!! Chris wanted to scream They made me do it, forgive me! But the words remained unspoken and the segment continued, as both men knew it had to. Then came the final blow, Chris had to go back, retrieve the second bottle, and pretend to smash it against Punk's head. Of course, being made of the brittle material that it was, it wouldn't hurt the younger man in the slightest, but he would still be completely drenched in pure alcohol as a result, and Chris was terrified of what might happen.

...it all goes straight to your head The bottle fell apart a split second too soon but the desired effect was achieved regardless. Bending down over Punk's body, Chris could've sworn he heard a faint whimper before he had to pose for the crowd and walk to the back.

During the commercial break, Chris watched anxiously as the medics helped Punk to the back, alcohol dripping everywhere as he limped backstage.

"Punk..." Chris started to speak and stopped when Punk's head snapped up, his flashing eyes full of pain, daring him to continue. Chris bit back the words and let Punk go by, wishing more than anything that he could undo what he'd been ordered to do.

To be continued

(Punk's POV)

Philip Jack Brooks, known to the world as C.M Punk, managed to stagger as far as the couch in his locker room before his legs finally gave out and he curled into the fetal position as the shock of what had happened finally caught up with him. His senses took in everything: the throbbing pain in his back, the nearly unbearable pain in his head, but most overwhelming of all was the stinking reek of alcohol covering most of his body.

Tequila Punk mentally groaned, Of all the liquors they could've chosen... He knew there was no way anybody could know, but it seemed bitterly ironic that their liquor of choice had also been his father's favorite in dark days gone by...

Philip!!!" Small for his age, eight year old Phil ran for his life, scurrying as fast as he could to get away from the drunken man otherwise known as his father

Leave me alone!" the little boy screamed as his father caught him by the leg "Please daddy, don't hurt me!!!"

Shut up! The drunk snarled "You're going to pay boy, you hear me???"

Punk shot up straight as the flashback continued, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. Just then the smell of tequila seemed to rise up and overwhelm him, searing his senses and sending his stomach into complete turmoil. Staggering up, he scrambled for the bathroom, making it just in time as he retched into the porcelain bowl, gasping at the pain that seemed to be growing all over his body. Even though his stomach still felt ready to turn on him at any moment, Punk couldn't wait any longer and he moved on to the shower area, not even bothering to remove his gear before he turned the water on as hot as he could stand it. He NEEDED to get rid of the horrible smell that was invading his body, it was unclean, it was pure poison and he'd been infected by it in the worst way, by one of his best friends.

"Why Chris?" Punk moaned softly as he continued to scrub at his head and body "Why did you hurt me like this?" To his broken mind, it seemed like the smell was only getting worse and worse, when in reality it had all been washed away long ago. He scrubbed harder and harder, not even noticing when he began to rub patches of his skin raw...so absorbed was he in his "cleansing" that he didn't hear the door open and footsteps approach the shower door...

"Punk?.....Phil?"

To be continued

(Jericho POV)

"Punk?....Phil?" Chris' heart broke as he watched Punk frantically scrubbing at his body, his black hair dripping down into his face. He seemed oblivious to everything around him, and Chris noted with concern that the steaming water was turning Punk's skin lobster red. He needed to get his friend out of there before he made himself incredibly sick.

"Phil..." he whispered gently, not wanting to spook the now shaking man "Phil?" he gently moved closer when the younger man didn't answer, slowly crawling forward into the steaming hot spray. Punk was still scrubbing himself, though not nearly as vigorously, and he appeared to be close to passing out. Chris crawled up until he was right behind the Chicagoan, then he slowly reached up and shut the water off. To his horror, Punk continued to scrub, revealing how detached from reality he actually was.

"Gotta get it off....." he was murmuring "It's everywhere, why won't it go away..."

"Philip?" Chris called a little more firmly, hoping the sound of his full name might bring Punk back to reality "Philip it's Chris, can you hear me?" As he spoke, he took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Phil's shoulder. Instantly the younger man stiffened, and it wasn't clear if he recognized who was with him

"It's me" Chris whispered softly, slowly beginning to massage Phil's back "It's only Chris, you know I'm not going to hurt you."

"You already have..." a hoarse voice whispered, and for the first time Punk turned to look at him, glazed eyes staring at him through dripping hair.

"Phil I'm so sorry about that" Chris continued his massage, relieved that if nothing else, Punk wasn't pulling away from him "I didn't want to do it, you have to believe me, they didn't give me a choice!" Punk didn't answer, nor did he object when Chris slowly moved closer, gently shifting the younger man around so he could wrap his arms around his chest. Even though the water had been turned off, Punk was still trembling, his skin dangerously hot to the touch.
"You should get cooled off" Chris murmured, feeling worried when Punk didn't react "Phil?" he leaned back so he could prop Punk's head against his chest and gasped when he saw that the younger man had passed out completely, his face completely drained of all color!

To be continued

"Phil....Phil!!" Chris shook the young man gently "Phil you need to wake up, come on..." There was no response and Chris knew what he needed to do. He gently picked Punk up bridal style and took him out of the steamy atmosphere of the wet shower stall, setting him down gently on the cool tile floor, propping up his head with a pile of dry towels he found on a bench.

"Just hang in there" Chris murmured, checking Punk's temperature and finding it much too hot "I'm gonna get you through this, I promise." He rummaged through the shower until he found what he was looking for: several large washcloths that he quickly doused with cold water in the sink. Sitting back down next to Punk's still body, he folded each cloth into a compress and began to gently wipe down the superheated skin, being careful to avoid the patches of raw skin.

"C'mon Phil..." Chris continued to whisper "Wake up...."

To be continued

(Punk's POV)

When Punk slowly came to, he didn't realize where he was at first. The last thing he clearly remembered was throwing up in the bathroom, after that...what happened? As he slowly turned and tried to open his eyes, he felt something cool rub his face,

"Phil?" a familiar voice murmured "Can you hear me?" Calloused fingers gently stroked his hair, and the sensation was enough to get him to open his eyes just enough to see a very worried Chris Jericho looking down at him.

"C-Chris?" Punk's voice was a hoarse croak "W-what are you doing here?"

Chris' eyes were full of sadness "You don't remember?"

Phil racked his mind as best as he could "I...I dont...oh..." he suddenly stiffened as memory came back to him "Oh god....you...and then....." even as Punk struggled to get the thought out, his eyes stung and he began to cry, shaking as released emotion began pouring out of him.

Chris gently pulled Punk close and held him while the younger man sobbed his heart out.

TBC