Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: You find it amazing that, throughout all the ups and downs and inbetweens, he remains by your side. PunkAJ, requested by BlackWidow101, oneshot

Alrighty. Another request. This time it's for the pair of CM Punk and AJ Lee, as requested by the awesome BlackWidow101. I am so sorry it has taken so long. School has been crazy, but I do hope that you enjoy this! I haven't written for these two in a long time, but hopefully this will be okay! It's a completely different tone and POV than what I wrote for Punklee last time and I'm taking a few liberties with past storylines and whatnot, but I hope that everyone enjoys this little fic of mine!

Dauntless

Loneliness is not a foreign concept to you.

You've been left more times than you can count. Loved too fiercely, only to be deserted. Time after time after time, they have all left you alone, left you to be victim to your own thoughts, wild and chaotic as they are. Left you to be a laughing stock, left you to be called crazy.

You hate them for it.

Dwelling on these things has never been good for you, you know this, but every now and then you find your mind lingering on these facts for a bit too long, filled with a bit more vindictiveness than you should have after the wound had long since scarred over.

But, of course, the scars were still there.

You remember Daniel and Kane and Cena and Dolph. Sometimes you remember the good things about them, other times you can only focus on the bad, especially the men with which you had had longer relationships. In your eyes, they were the worst, since they had led you along for so long, led you to believe that they truly loved you...when in reality it must have been the opposite.

Because if they had loved you, why would they leave you like they did?

And then, there's him.

CM Punk is completely different from those other guys, of this you are absolutely certain. You know your confidence in others has gotten you into trouble, especially when it comes to men, but you feel this deeply - even deeper than the things you felt with all those other men.

Because, while the men you've dated previously have said they'd always be there for you, Punk has shown it in his actions, remaining by your side through all the ups and downs and inbetweens.

And it is remarkable.

Every time someone has stomped on your heart, he has been there, a hand on your back and a snarky comment for the "miserable douche who dumped you," he'd always say. Of course, he'd vary his insults. The Best in the World was also best in at insults. You'd tell him that and he'd laugh, say something like, "My razor sharp wit has no bounds," and you'd laugh again and smile and he would look at you as if he felt better just by seeing it.

You tried to not remember what he had done to you, though his crimes hadn't been as bad as the rest. It was almost...easy to overlook what he did, especially when he made up for it with every smile and kind gesture - genuine kindness. Something that you are still not accustomed to.

It's an odd thing to focus on, the way that he makes you feel. After all this time, you'd had a moment where you couldn't feel anything at all. A moment where you didn't want to feel anything. A moment where you shoved all emotion aside and focused only on yourself and the shining Divas Championship around your waist and the thrum of victory in your veins.

You supposed times have changed.

Sure, you are still champion. You plan on being champion for a long, long while - not just a person to be dismissed like so many former holders of the belt. But, while you are still champion, you are also more than that.

You sigh as you adjust the belt around your waist. Your Pay-Per-View title match is in a few minutes, defending against Brie Bella. You smirk to yourself as you think about the logistics of the match ahead. Brie is talented, sure, but you are champ for a reason. She will not beat you. You know that much.

You watch as the participants of the match before you return backstage. You hardly see them as you rise from your seated position, ready to make your way to the ring.

"Kick ass tonight." The voice that calls out to you is familiar; it makes you turn around, goosebumps prickling their way across your arms.

You give him a smile, one that you feel lights up your entire face. His eyes are soft as he looks at you, something that you can never get used to seeing. It fills your stomach with nervous butterflies. Funny, you thought yourself incapable of that feeling anymore.

"Like I could do anything else," you respond.

Punk grins at you. "That's the spirit."

"If I am anything, it's spirited."

"Tell me about it."

It is your turn to grin. It's funny, how you are able to do this so easily around him. It should make your stomach turn, that a guy has this much power over you again, but you try not to dwell on it for long. A part of you has missed this, the simplicity of liking a guy and not worrying about him betraying you. Which has always happened. Again and again and again.

Punk gives you a smile, his fingers darting out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Unused to his touch, you nearly flinch, but hold it back and decide to relish the feel of his fingers as they lightly brush your cheek.

You're an idiot, you decide then and there.

"Go get 'em," he says.

You turn from him. "Don't have to tell me twice."

You feel his smile follow you as you step out and face the crowd, your entrance music blaring around you as the cheers of the audience assault your ears.

You'll give them a show.

Them. And him.

Always, always him.

End.