The moment the doctor told us the news, I felt like I couldn't breathe. Like the world was crumbling down and now nothing would make sense without her. Hope was my best friend; God she was like my sister. Now she's gone. Her fiancé, Phil, or Punk as he preferred to be called, was sitting beside her bed, still holding on to her cold hand. I could hear his wretched sobs, as my heart broke further.

"Taylor, you ready to go see Emma-Lynn?" Arms wrapped around my waist, as John whispered into my ear. Shaking my head, I turned around in John's arms and he pulled me closer to him; if possible. I never before realized how hard it is to talk when you're sobbing.

"Johnny, she's gone. My best friend is gone! Emma-Lynn doesn't have a mom, and Punk doesn't have a fiancée. Why the hell did this have to happen?"

As John ran his fingers through my brunette hair, I felt him choke back a sob. John Cena, my boyfriend of three years, crying. Then again, none of us thought we'd ever be here.

"Um, I'm sorry to interrupt," the nurse whose name tag read Lucy interrupted, "but I was wondering if Mr. Brooks would like to hold his daughter?"

I couldn't answer her, so John replied,

"Sure. Just be careful; he's a wreck." The young nurse solemnly nodded and headed into the room. We looked to see Punk hesitantly holding their daughter. A memory of Hope flashed through my head:

"Tay, I need you to promise me something," Hope said through the contractions. We both knew how vital her breathing was at this point. Punk was holding her other hand, in his own world and not listening. I nodded as she continued, "I need you to be there for Punk and the baby-"

"No, I won't need to be there for them. They'll have you!"

"Hon, we both know only one of us are going to make it-"

"Dammit, Hope don't…do NOT say things like that. You're gonna make it." I began sobbing, and so did Hope.

"Please Taylor. She's your god-daughter after all. Please be there for them, they're going to need you like I always have. Punk is going to need you; more than he's ever needed anyone." I was sobbing too hard to correct her or even comment. Soon, there was a cry of a baby, and the monitor flat-lining. Above all that, the only sound Punk and I could hear, were our own hearts breaking.

"Baby girl, do you want to go back in there with them?" John asked me.

"No, I'd rather give them time right now, especially since I'm staying with them for a while." I looked up at John and he was seemingly in awe; and confused.

"Staying with them? What are you talking about Tay?"

Pulling away, we sat down in the waiting room; not wanting to interrupt whatever was going on with Punk in the hospital room.

"John, before Hope," choking back a sob, he rubbed my back and I continued, "I promised her I'd be there for Emma and Phil. I can't really do that if I'm not there. I mean yeah, there's going back and forth but-"

John interrupted,

"But how stable is Punk right now in order to raise a kid. I understand Taylor. You don't have to explain it to me, really. Although, I don't know what I'm gonna do if I get lonely at night..."

He trailed off, raising his eyebrows suggestively. I managed a laugh and looked at him. Leaning in, we kissed passionately. John tried pulling me into his lap from my seat, but I pulled away, breathless and stunned.

"Johnny, this is a hospital."

"They have closets babe."

He gave me a shit eating grin; and I knew he was joking, but still. It's not the right time. Something inside me snapped.

"You're hilarious. Glad to see you're ready to fuck in the same building where my best friend's dead body is; smooth move John."

"Hey, Taylor, c'mon, you know I was joking."

I simply walked away from him and went to check on Punk and Emma-Lynn. The two were still in the same position; him holding her and sitting in the chair by Hope's bed. Although by now, the people have come in and moved her body to the morgue. I stood there and watched Punk's movements.

Getting up, slowly and then walking. The Straight-Edge Superstar placed his daughter in the little cradle and looked towards the door; at me. Without a word, I quietly walked over to the baby; I haven't seen her since she was first born. Looking at the clock it was nearly midnight; therefore making her merely hours old. Be strong, I kept saying to myself.

Peaking down, Emma was a spitting image of Punk; his black hair, bone structure and skin tone. The one thing that was undeniably Hope's, was her eyes. The lightest shade of blue you'd ever see. Touching her stomach, she let out a small giggle, and with that, the flood gates opened. The tears wouldn't stop; no matter how hard I tried to hold them back.

All of a sudden, a hand was on my shoulder. Slightly I jumped, then turned around to the owner of the hand; Punk. Looking up into his hazel eyes didn't help. As a sob escaped, he pulled me into his arms.

"Shh. It's okay. Just don't cry. T, it's going to be okay," Punk said.

We both knew after today things would never be the same, but just for now, we'd pretend that everything is okay. Nodding into his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist, and he pulled me closer. I felt his head look at the baby girl. Eventually I did too. Then on us both had to be strong. For each other….For John…For Emma-Lynn…For Hope.

Hours later, John was driving us home in his '89 Jeep Wrangler. The drive was completely silent. Neither of us spoke to eachother after I chewed him out at the hospital. I felt bad, but didn't feel like apologizing to him; so sue me. Thank God when we pulled into the driveway, and then headed inside. John went somewhere, and I changed into a shirt of his, and then headed upstairs. Walking up the steps to our bedroom, pictures hung on the walls. Stopping to look at them, one was of Hope and I, graduating from college. It seems like that was just yesterday, when in reality it was almost seven years ago.

"Taylor, hey," John said as he appeared and came up the stairs.

"Hi, is something up?" He gave me a dimpled smile and I knew what a bitch I was being to him. Those blue eyes and dimpled smile could make anyone give in, especially me.

"Well, you're pissed at me. Listen babe, I understand you're hurting. So am I. Hope was a good friend to me too. I'm sorry I have bad timing, but I'm not going to apologize for trying to cheer you up. So you figure out whatever and I'll be on the couch, okay?" He didn't even give me time to respond, before he was flipping off the lights and on the couch to sleep.

Huffing, I climbed down the stairs. He was already out, so I crawled in next to him. Fuck, I never realized how small this couch is. John turned out not to be asleep, and wrapped me into his arms, kissing my lips and forehead.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch Johnny. I just….I don't know how to act. I feel so guilty." I couldn't believe I was actually going to bring this up, especially now.

"Tay, Hope had placenta previa. They didn't catch it in time; No one could have prevented that. Not even you."

I sighed shaking my head,

"I did know. She threatened me and told me not to tell Punk! My hands were tied. I tried…so hard to convince her to tell him or something. She just wouldn't.

I've blamed myself-"

John rolled over so he was on top, interrupting me. A frown was on his face, but his blue eyes still sparkled. Blue eyes that I could spend forever looking into. If only he felt that way too, but that's another story.

"Tay, you did right by your friend. You tried, and we both know that nothing would change that girl's mind. Maybe not even Punk. So you need to stop blaming yourself, okay?" I could only nod, making him think I believed him. Not a day goes by that I won't blame myself; I think we both know it. John's finger was tracing my lips, as my heart starting beating faster. Taking his finger into my mouth, my tongue began sucking and licking it.

A low growl could be heard from The Cenation Leader,

"Taylor, don't tease me." I let his finger go, and shook my head lightly.

Pulling his head down, to feel his breath on my lips,

"Mmmm, never." With that he crashed his lips to mine, passionately.

As our tongues fought for dominance, I slowly began taking off his plaid blue boxers, and I felt him smirk into the kiss. In an instant, John was taking off my shirt, that was actually his, and my silky panties. He started trailing butterfly kisses from my neck all the way down to my navel; my hips bucked up at the contact.

"God, you're so beautiful," he whispered, kissing my stomach. I smiled at him, and knew I was blushing, but thankfully he couldn't see it. After all this time, he can still make me feel this way.

"John," I began and his head snapped up and our eyes met, "Will you make love to me already? I can't take the fucking teasing." With one last kiss to my lips, he thrusted into me slowly,

"You okay baby girl?" I kissed him in reassurance, and he slowly began moving. Then I wrapped my legs around him to get more and pull him closer. We moved in sync, my hips rising to meet his thrusts.

"Oh God, John! Th...there!"

"Mmm, Taylor...God!" His movements were slower and gentler compared to the other times. Soon the thrusts became more erotic.

"John? I'm gonna-"

"It's okay, I'm right here. Let it go." Soon, we were both reaching our climaxes and John pulled me into his arms.

"I love you Taylor." A total chick flick moment, but I snuggled into his chest and said,

"I love you too, meathead."

A chuckle bubbled in his muscular chest, and soon we both fell asleep. Tomorrow was the day no one wanted to happen. We were burying one of us.