Friends fights and first aids
Pair: Cm Punk X AJ Lee X Cody Rhodes
Plot: After a chaotic SmackDown brawl leaves Cody Rhodes limping and CM Punk bruised, the two men retreat to their hotel to regroup before Saturday Night’s Main Event, where their SummerSlam match hangs in the balance. Waiting for them is AJ Lee, armed with a first‑aid kit and zero patience, determined to patch them up and chew them out for their reckless night. When Brandi Rhodes arrives, the scolding doubles — and so does the chaos. Between injuries, lectures, and a joke that nearly sends Punk and Cody into cardiac arrest, the four of them end the night in a rare moment of calm: two couples, two bruised wrestlers, and one massive match looming over tomorrow. No matter what happens at the Garden, they’re facing it together.
Song: Brother — Kodaline
This fic follows the aftermath of a chaotic night on SmackDown, where Cody Rhodes and CM Punk find themselves bruised, limping, and barely holding it together. Back at the hotel, AJ Lee steps in with tough love, a first‑aid kit, and the kind of honesty only she can deliver. What unfolds is a mix of scolding, humor, patch‑ups, and the quiet comfort that comes from people who care enough to keep you grounded.
Inspired by the emotional weight of Brother, this story focuses on loyalty, support, and the softer moments that happen when the cameras are off — the ones that remind you that even the strongest need someone to lean on.🥺💕😊
PS: I hope my boys win tonight I really do I know it would be more interesting to people in a fatal four way but I want it to be a one on one match. 💕
Cody was backstage lacing up his boots, jaw set, eyes sharp — the kind of look he got when he’d already made up his mind. The match with Gunther was minutes away, and everyone knew it wasn’t smart. Not with the stipulation for tomorrow. Not with Gunther’s reputation. Not with everything on the line.
Punk found him anyway.
He didn’t storm in.
He didn’t yell.
He didn’t cut a promo.
He just stepped into the room, hands on his hips, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what Cody was about to do.
“You really gonna do this?” Punk asked, voice low.
Cody didn’t look up.
“Yeah. I have to.”
Punk moved closer, dropping the attitude, dropping the bravado — just speaking like a friend who cared way too much.
“Cody… Gunther’s not going out there to wrestle you. He’s going out there to hurt you. And if he does? Tomorrow’s done. Saturday Night’s Main Event is done. Our match is done.”
Cody paused, fingers tightening around his wrist tape.
Punk softened even more.
“I don’t want you getting hurt. Not like that. Not tonight.”
Cody finally looked up at him — stubborn, determined, but touched.
“Punk… I can’t back down. Not from him.”
Punk sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Then I’m gonna be out there. I’m not letting you walk into Gunther alone. I’ve got your back tonight. Whether you want me to or not.”
Cody blinked, surprised.
Punk shrugged.
“I’m not losing my SummerSlam match because you’re too damn brave for your own good.”
Cody huffed a laugh — small, grateful he says.
“ Fine okay but stay back here until I need you,”
Saturday Night’s Main Event was less than twenty‑four hours away, and Cody Rhodes knew exactly what was at stake. Gunther hadn’t even stepped into the ring yet when Cody charged him from behind, fueled by adrenaline and stubborn determination.
He slammed Gunther into the barricade.
Then into the steel steps.
Then across the apron.
Punch after punch landed with sharp, echoing cracks.
Finally, Cody grabbed Gunther by the head and bounced his skull off the announce table, sending the crowd into a frenzy.
But once Cody dragged Gunther into the ring, everything went south.
Gunther dropped him hard.
Cody’s knee buckled.
Pain shot through him like fire.
Gunther smelled blood.
He grabbed Cody’s injured leg, yanked him toward the corner, and slammed Cody’s knee into the ring post. Cody screamed, clutching at the ropes, agony ripping through him.
That’s when CM Punk’s music hit.
The crowd erupted as Punk walked down the ramp, not showboating, not posing — just heading straight to ringside, eyes locked on Cody, trying to give him encouragement.
Joe Tessitore’s voice cut through commentary:
“Now the Undisputed Champion is making his presence felt on SmackDown.”
Wade Barrett added, tense and serious:
“Punk looks aggrieved right now, knowing full well the physical position Cody is in — and the consequences for tomorrow night.”
Cody clawed his way toward a vertical base. Gunther mocked Punk’s signature GTS, hoisting Cody up — but Cody slipped out and hit a lariat. Gunther answered with one of his own, both men crashing to the mat.
And then all hell broke loose.
Cody almost had the match won. Punk was cheering him on, urging him to finish it — when Sami Zayn came flying out of nowhere. He slammed Punk into the ring post, then hurled him over the announce table.
Cody dove out of the ring, crashing into Sami and sending him sprawling. But when Cody tried to climb back inside, Sami grabbed him and slammed him into the ring post, knocking him limp. The referee threw the match out.
Punk saw Cody in danger and launched himself off the announce table, crashing into Sami and Gunther as the fight spilled back into the ring.
Joe shouted:
“Oh! CM Punk from off the announce desk!”
Wade followed:
“We’re gonna need security — this one officially thrown out! Gunther going for the eyeballs of CM Punk…”
Joe’s voice rose with the chaos:
“This is wild — an all‑out brawl! Tomorrow at Madison Square Garden, they put it all on the line to determine what the championship match will look like at SummerSlam!”
Wade added:
“Thankfully reinforcements are on the way — but is the damage already done? Good luck separating these four.”
Joe closed the show:
“Absolute madness here on SmackDown!”
Wade echoed:
“Absolute mayhem, Joe — imagine how bad it’s gonna be tomorrow at the Garden… if we even make it that far.”
Joe delivered the final line as security swarmed:
“They cannot hold them back! Cody is all over Gunther, Punk and Sami are brawling — in twenty‑four hours they meet at Madison Square Garden, and the entire SummerSlam dynamic could shift in one single result on Saturday Night’s Main Event!”
SmackDown ended in pure, unstoppable chaos.
Security finally pulled the four men apart, but the damage was already done. Cody was limping, his knee screaming every time he put weight on it. Punk had a dark bruise forming around his eye — the kind that would look even worse in the morning.
They pushed through the curtain into gorilla, both breathing hard, both still buzzing from the fight.
Cody winced as he tried to straighten up.
Punk glanced at him, shaking his head.
“I told you Gunther was gonna try to take you out.”
Cody huffed a laugh — small, tired, grateful he wasn’t alone.
“Yeah, well… you were right.”
Punk raised an eyebrow.
“Say it again. Louder.”
Cody rolled his eyes.
“Don’t push it.”
They walked down the hallway together, trainers trying to flag them down, but Punk waved them off. Cody just wanted to get out of the arena. Punk wanted to make sure he didn’t collapse on the way.
Cody pressed a hand to his knee, grimacing.
“Brandi is gonna kill me.”
Punk snorted.
“Oh, absolutely. She’s gonna roast you alive.”
Cody shot him a look.
“You’re not helping.”
“I’m not trying to,” Punk said, smirking despite the bruise swelling under his eye. “I’m just telling the truth.”
They reached the exit, both moving slower than usual — Cody limping, Punk blinking through the sting in his eye. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving behind pain, exhaustion, and the reality of tomorrow’s match.
Punk unlocked the rental car.
Cody eased himself into the passenger seat with a hiss.
Punk glanced over at him.
“You good?”
Cody exhaled.
“Define good.”
Punk nodded.
“Fair enough.”
He started the car, pulling out of the arena parking lot. The city lights blurred past the windows as they drove toward the hotel, both men quiet, both replaying the chaos in their heads.
Cody finally broke the silence.
“Tomorrow… we have to win.”
Punk didn’t hesitate.
“Yeah. We do.”
They didn’t say anything else.
They didn’t need to.
They were bruised, battered, and barely holding it together — but they were in this together.
And waiting for them upstairs, in the hotel room, was AJ Lee…
with a first‑aid kit
and a look that said she already knew they’d done something stupid.
Punk swiped the keycard and pushed open the door. Cody limped behind him, both of them looking like they’d crawled out of a demolition site.
AJ Lee was already inside.
Arms crossed.
Foot tapping.
First‑aid kit open on the bed.
She didn’t even let Punk speak.
“No. Shut up. Sit down.”
Punk sat instantly.
Cody tried to back out.
“Uh… I’m just gonna go—”
AJ pointed at him like she was casting a spell.
“Oh, no. Brandi gave me permission to chew your ass out while she puts Liberty to sleep. Sit.”
Cody sat.
AJ grabbed the ice pack and pressed it gently to Punk’s cheekbone. He winced, but she held his chin steady with her thumb.
“Phil, you dove off the announce table. Why?”
Punk shrugged weakly.
“…I stuck the landing.”
AJ glared.
He shut up.
She cleaned the cut near his eye, dabbed antiseptic on the bruise, taped the swelling area, and muttered under her breath the entire time.
Then she moved to Cody.
She knelt in front of him, carefully unwrapping the trainer’s brace and re‑wrapping his knee properly. Cody hissed every time she tightened the bandage.
“Gunther tried to snap your leg like a breadstick,” AJ muttered. “I swear, you two have no survival instincts.”
Cody opened his mouth to defend himself—
The door swung open.
Brandi Rhodes walked in, looking like she had sprinted straight from Liberty’s bedtime to the hotel room.
She took one look at Cody’s knee.
One look at Punk’s eye.
One look at AJ’s first‑aid kit.
Her expression dropped into pure, righteous fury.
“Oh, absolutely not.”
Cody straightened like he’d been caught stealing cookies.
Brandi pointed at him.
“Cody Garrett Rhodes, what did I JUST tell you about fighting Gunther before Saturday Night’s Main Event?”
Cody swallowed.
“I—well—he—”
“No excuses.” Brandi marched right up to him. “You jumped him before the bell even rang! You’re lucky your knee isn’t in three pieces!”
Punk snorted.
Brandi turned on him instantly.
“And YOU! Why is your eye purple?! Why did Sami Zayn throw you into a ring post?! Why did you dive off the announce table like you were trying to impress my husband?!”
Punk blinked.
“I wasn’t trying to impress him.”
AJ raised an eyebrow.
Brandi and AJ exchanged a look.
A smirk.
A dangerous smirk.
Brandi crossed her arms.
“Oh, and what was that last week, babe? Trying to kiss Phil on national TV?”
Cody’s entire soul left his body.
“WHAT?!”
AJ whipped her head toward Punk.
“Phil… is there something you wanna tell me?”
Punk’s eyes went wide.
“What—NO—WHAT?! I wasn’t—CODY leaned in!”
Cody pointed at Punk.
“YOU leaned in!”
Punk pointed at Cody.
“YOU leaned in!”
They both looked horrified.
AJ and Brandi burst out laughing — loud, unfiltered, chaotic laughter that filled the room.
AJ wiped a tear from her eye.
“Oh my God, you two are so easy.”
Brandi nodded, still giggling.
“One little moment on TV and the internet thinks you’re running a romance storyline.”
Cody groaned.
Punk muttered something about never showing affection again.
AJ finally calmed down, stepping closer to Punk.
He reached out, grabbed her by the waist, and pulled her gently into his lap.
She settled against him, fingers brushing his jaw, checking the bruise again with softer eyes.
Cody watched them, then tugged Brandi into his lap too.
She let out a tiny laugh, curling an arm around his shoulders, careful of his knee.
For the first time all night, the room felt calm.
Two bruised idiots.
Two wives who loved them enough to yell first and patch them up second.
Four people tangled together in a quiet hotel room, the chaos of SmackDown finally fading.
AJ rested her head on Punk’s shoulder.
Brandi squeezed Cody’s hand.
Punk exhaled.
Cody leaned back.
Tomorrow would be war.
But tonight?
They had this.
The End
TAGLIST
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