Disclaimer: None of the characters mentioned are owned by us.
Rated: M (Mature)
Warning(s): Slash, Mpreg, etc.

It shouldn't have ended like this.

He was Phil Brooks, CM Punk, and the 'Best in the World'. He had held the WWE Title for over two-hundred days. But now, none of that mattered anymore. When Paul had thrown John into Phil and both had crashed down behind the announce table, it was like his entire world had crashed down around him. It didn't matter anymore. Pain had wracked his body when he made his way into the match and took out both John and Paul. Blinded by unbelievable pain and a hurricane of hormones, he ruined the Number One Contender's Match to determine his opponent at SummerSlam.

Of course, that had totally backfired on him. AJ, the new General Manager of Raw, decided to make his match at SummerSlam a Triple Threat. She taunted him with the fact that now, all of the spotlight was on him, exactly like he wanted it to be. Phil didn't understand what her problem was. He had told her exactly how he felt about her. He had been totally upfront and honest about it. If she should be mad at anyone, it should be Daniel Bryan. He was the one who had hurt and abused her. And sure, she embarrassed him... but now, she put him in the Triple Threat match? That didn't make sense.

"I'm sorry, baby." Phil mumbled softly. His stomach hurt. His whole body hurt. "I never meant for you to be hurt by this. It was only an accident, I swear. I shouldn't have even been out there..." Phil looked down at the blood on his thighs. He felt sick.

Phil walked into the bathroom and showered. He wanted to be clean and not be forced to remember the accident every time that he looked at his body. It made him feel weak and useless. He scrubbed at his skin until the tattooed flesh was raw and burned terribly. But he knew that that wouldn't make a difference. He had lost his baby. So he climbed out of the shower and walked back into the locker room with a towel around his waist. Chris was there waiting for him. The blond had a look of satisfaction on his face because of his recent victory over Dolph Ziggler and The Miz.

"Philly? What's the matter, baby? That outburts out there... it's not like you. Not at all." Chris said. He wore a look of concern on his face.

Phil didn't answer immediately. He dressed himself in loose jeans and a dark t-shirt. He was still incredibly uncomfortable. "I'm fine, Chris. I just want to head back to the hotel, okay? I'm kind of tired."

Chris looked at him uncertainly. "Of course, baby. Are you sure that you don't want to see the trainer first? You took a nasty fall out there." Chris asked. "I just want to make sure that you're okay."

Phil shook it off. He was in pain, sure, but if he didn't make it to a bed soon and take some Tylenol, it would hurt like a bitch in the morning. "Please... just take me back to the hotel room. I'm really tired."

Chris looked him over once more. "Sure, baby. Whatever you want."

Phil awoke in the early morning to find himself held gently against Chris' body. No matter how comforting the older man's touch was, nothing could make him feel better about the loss of his baby.

He gently unwrapped Chris' arms from around his torso and got out of bed. The dull achiness in his muscles was masked by the burning fire he felt in his abdomen. The instant the pain hit him he was doubled over with tears welling in his eyes. He managed to make his way to the bathroom, where he took some more Tylenol before he collapsed on the cool tile floor.

"I'm so sorry," Phil whispered to his stomach. The tears of pain he felt in his eyes were pushed down his face by the rush of sadness he received. He trailed his bony fingers over his flesh gently. That's when he noticed the dried and fresh blood coating his thighs.

Through the pain that was slowly subsiding thanks to the Tylenol, Phil pushed himself to his feet and turned the shower on. Once steam rose from the shower head, he got in and started scrubbing the blood from his skin. He knew he'd have to do something soon; for now, though, all he needed was to be rid of the crimson color staining his alabaster skin.

Once he deemed himself clean enough, he got out of the shower and wrapped a fluffy white towel around his waist. He headed out of the bathroom to find Chris in bed still, but with his iPhone held near his face.

"Good morning, baby," Chris said with a smile. He set his phone aside and rolled out of bed before he crossed the room and gave Phil a kiss. "Did you sleep well?"

Phil couldn't bring himself to look into Chris' eyes. He feared that somehow, he'd be able to see what he was feeling. He didn't want to worry him.

"Yeah," he finally murmured. Without even looking, he could feel the concern rolling off of the blond.

"Is something the matter?" Chris asked seriously.

Phil shook his head and forced himself to look into Chris' bright blue eyes. "I'm fine, Chris. I'm just really sore."

"You're not acting like yourself, Phil," Chris commented with a small sigh. "You were fine until last night…"

"I'm fine," Phil insisted somewhat loudly. He took a step back from the blond and ran his hand through his wet tresses. "I'm going to get dressed and maybe go to the gym later. I'll have my phone on me, so text or call if you want."

"I could go with you, Philly," Chris began quietly. When he realized that Phil wanted to be alone, he sighed again. "Or I could do something else for the day. That's okay. Have fun at the gym. I love you."

"Love you too," Phil said before he grabbed some clothes and headed towards the bathroom again. He wished he could spend a day at the gym, but he knew that his day needed to be spent at the doctor's.