Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Circe.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Mental Health Issues, Multiple Personality Disorder, Insensitivity Toward Mental Illness, Past Mpreg, etc.

Steam rose from the hot washcloth Corey pinched between his fingers, "Here. This should help with the pain."

He wrung some of the excess water from the cloth, before draping it over Finn's battered chest. His abdominal muscles clenched at the sudden heat, causing another white-hot bolt of pain to cut through him like a knife. "Fuck, that's hot!"

Corey pressed tattooed fingers firmly into his shoulder, pushing him back into the soft leather of the couch. "Shhh..." He knew that Finn was partial to ice, but heat was better for swelling. And there was no doubt that Finn's body was wrecked after his match with Braun Stroman. "Just relax. Let the heat do it's magic."

Finn drew in a deep, shaky breath, forcing himself to sink down into the sofa cushions. "I wish that this damned thing would just heal already." He glared at his stomach in disdain, "It's been six fucking months -,"

"More like it's only been six months, babe." Corey chuckled softly, running long fingers through Finn's sweat-slicked brown locks. "The doctor said it could take up to a year for the scar tissue to heal."

"It feels like someone took a pick-ax to my intestines." He grumbled. His eyes began to flutter, however, as the pain ebbed away.

Finn had been sidelined for almost a year and a half due to an unplanned pregnancy. Before then, they'd never really entertained the idea of children – Corey already had three with his ex-wife, and Finn had the demon. While it was certainly not a child, it was a not-always-welcome force that took up residence in his head… and sometimes, was not content with being a mere spectator in their shared life. There were times, which were becoming more and more frequent, where Finn would go to sleep and wake up several days later with no recollection of what had happened during that time. Corey was supportive, but he didn't really understand. How could he, when Finn himself didn't?

He'd been against bringing a child into a world of so many unknowns. Corey had been the one who was adamant about following through with the pregnancy, countering each of his fears with logic and reason. He'd insisted that, despite the nature of the demon, they had no reason to believe it would hurt the baby. And should there, for whatever reason, come a time where he did not trust himself with the child, Corey would be ready to intervene. And Finn had been weak to the way that Corey's eyes had lit up at the prospect of having a child that shared their blood, had snickered at the goofy, childish smile on his face as he started brainstorming names (and they were all for little girls).

So, he'd carried to term, despite various reservations. And they'd named their little one Circe, after the mythological Greek sorceress most famous for brutally exploiting man and then transforming them into a wide variety of animals. The demon had not shown his face for the duration of the pregnancy, but he had felt him there, always pressing at the corners of his psyche. It was only a matter of time until he carved his way to the forefront once more. And now, returning to the squared-circle after how many months on the sidelines, he realized just how out of sorts he still was. His body was not fully healed from the C-section, and Braun Stroman had taken advantage of that.

"How do you feel?" Corey inquired softly, those lovely fingers still massaging his scalp. It was a loaded question and Finn was not sure how to answer, and when his silence stretched on Corey elaborated, "Do you think you can make it to the rental?"

Hazy eyes opened halfway, and he weakly extended his arms toward the larger man. "Carry me?"

"You must really be out of it." Nonetheless, he came around the other side of the couch and pulled the slightly smaller man into his arms. He should probably insist on him taking a shower and changing back into his street clothes, but he also knew Finn well enough to know that being asked to carry him meant he legitimately couldn't stand.

"Nah," Finn denied, just as he expected that he would. Nonetheless, he buried his face in the soft silk of his dress shirt and allowed his eyes to slip closed once more, "You're just really comfy."

"Am I?" He didn't think that he'd ever been called comfy before. Even four years after retirement, he still took pride in keeping up appearances and as such, like most wrestlers, his body was a conglomeration of hard lines and angles. Hell, you could bounce a quarter off his abs.

"Mmm… Yeah." His breath evened out and he was out like a light.

Corey rifled through Finn's gym bag, finally coming across a thin, purple and white checkered blanket. It was worn to the point where it had about the same thickness as paper, but Finn brought it everywhere because it smelled like home and it made him feel safe. Carefully, he wrapped Finn up in the blanket, before slipping the strap over his shoulder. The walk to the car was fairly uneventful, considering that most of the roster had already cleared out. It was getting late, nearing 12:30, and the sun had been down long enough that it had cooled down considerably. And he didn't want Finn, still caked in sweat from his match, to catch a chill.

He hummed softly as he unlocked the car and carefully shimmied Finn onto the seat. It was almost like buckling their young daughter into her car seat, trying to worm the seat belt around her squirming, wiggling form. Finn flinched when the cool metal of the buckle touched his skin, causing Corey's hand to slip and to brush against his Cesarean scar with a bit too much force. Finn actually whined, curling up and away from Corey's touch. Corey offered an apologetic smile, before stooping to press his lips to the very tip of the scar. The new skin was likely still extremely sensitive after Stroman's earlier assault. The hot compress had helped a little with the swelling, but it still wasn't easy on the eyes.

"I'm sorry," he shushed him softly, before slipping the seatbelt into place. "We'll be home soon with our pretty baby and you can sleep for a week. Fifteen minutes and we'll be back at the hotel, okay?"

"I'm just gonna… close my eyes… 'till then." Finn said, his head lolling to the side and his eyes falling closed for the final time.

"Sleep well, babe."