The worst part was that there was never anyone else to blame. Not the first time he did it and not the current time either. Other injuries could be chalked up to a mistake on another's part and, though he'd never outwardly blame another, it felt good to at least know he hadn't done anything wrong.

And though, truly, he hadn't this time either, it sure felt like it.

It was his first day home since the surgery and he wasn't much up for doing anything. Which was great, considering he wasn't able to anyways.

He'd already told Steph the only people that he even wanted to talk to for the time being was his parents, if they called or something, but considering he'd just seen them and already spoken with them, he figured they'd at least give him a day to mope. Hopefully more.

But anyone else, he just wasn't up for seeing or talking to. He just wanted to sit on his couch, leg propped up on a chair, in the living room, and glare at the TV.

The feeling of a pacifier falling against his good thigh reminded him that that wasn't all he was doing.

"Here you go, Rora." He managed to not sound so grumbly when he speaking to his five month old. "Did you drop your binky?"

Yes! And she wanted it back immediately. She was just sucking in a breath to begin crying when he gently plopped it back in her mouth. With it, she settled back against him once more.

Stephanie hadn't wanted him to let her sit in his lap, for fear it bothering his quad, but Paul kinda snapped at her about it. He wasn't in the best of moods and he just wanted to hold his damn kid. What the hell was wrong with that?

Well, mostly the fact that he'd kinda yelled at the person that was going to be helping nurse him back to health. And on the first day, no less.

Of course, she'd been expecting it. For all the fake grins and jokes he had when dealing with others, they were home finally; he didn't have to put on for her. And he wasn't going to. She knew that. Only told him to be careful and watched as, instead of letting Aurora sit on one of his thighs like usual, he let her sit more in between his opened legs. Stephanie still thought it wasn't a great idea, but knew there was no way he wasn't going to hold the baby at least once in the next few months that they'd be dealing with the injury; might as well get it out of the way early.

So she left him alone for an hour or so. Not that she went anywhere. Just steered clear of the living room and let him sulk. Eventually, of course, Aurora needed tending to (diaper) and she came to take her from him, but even then she only brought the baby right back. The two hardly even spoke to one another.

Eventually she found herself coming to bring him some lunch and sat down to watch him glare at the basketball game on the television and Aurora try desperately to wiggle out of her mother's lap, where she'd been shifted to, and get back to her father.

"Are you," he finally asked after that stoney silence got to be too much to take, "not eating?"

"I will later." Stephanie spared him a smile when he glanced at her before looking down at their daughter. "I still have to feed Aurora too."

The baby glanced up at her mother, hearing the sound of her name, but the woman only gently stroked her cheek. Paul went back to glaring at the television.

When Steph did leave the room with the baby again and was gone for some time, he kinda started to feel a bit like shit for getting angry at her. It wasn't her fault, after all, that he'd torn his quad. Rather, it was his.

It was only once the baby was down for her nap and the two found themselves without a buffer that they truly spoke.

"You don't have any work stuff to get done?" he asked, having to clear his throat a bit before, trying hard to not come off as still pissed. "Steph?"

She'd come back into the living room, but wasn't sitting with him. Rather, she'd taken to cleaning up around the place a bit, as Aurora had a few toys from when she played (loose use of the word as she more or less just enjoyed shaking and tossing things away from her) down on the floor that morning.

"Of course I do, but I have someone covering for me for the next few days. I have to take care of you."

He went back to staring at the television. "Do you think you could get me a drink?"

"Mmmhmm."

It was still rather tense between them, it was obvious, so when she did bring him that glass of water, he grabbed her arm and pulled her down onto the couch with him, nearly spilling the drink in the process. Steph fell into his side, but he just wrapped his arm around her shoulders and held her close.

"Paul-"

"I just wanted you to sit with me."

"You could have asked."

He took the cup of water from her hands, downed it, before setting it on the end table beside the couch, being sure, just for her, to set it on the coaster. "Didn't feel like it."

Which was probably the closest to an apology she was getting. She wanted to tell him that, for one, it honestly wasn't that big of a deal, she'd expected him to be rather despondent when they first got home, and for two, if that was the worst he did to her that day, they'd probably be having a pretty good day.

Still, she only rested against his side, though he knew her eyes kept drifting down to his leg. That was the thing; as pissed at himself as he was over the whole thing, he was angrier with himself that he'd upset her. Because oh, he had. They were having a hard enough time, balancing their never-ending workloads with the schedule of a very needy five month old. Now he'd just compiled the list of things his wife had to worry about.

Which, had Steph known he was even worrying about, she might have snapped at him. Because that was just idiotic. He wasn't at fault at all. The move was done correctly; the weight of it had just become too much for his knee. That was all there was to it. Just as she'd told him back in '01 with his first quad injury (though back then they were still feeling out their relationship in many ways, so it was probably in a lot less relaxed way that she got that across).

And she'd get work and Aurora taken care of all on her own. Without him even having to think about it. All he needed to focus on was resting.

She leaned up, after about twenty minutes of their silent conversation, and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Paul had zoned out then, on some sort of show about building a house, but that got his attention. Glancing down at her, she only grinned.

"You should really look on the bright side of things."

"What do you mean?"

Smiling still, she said, "You'll be home so much now that you'll definitely become Aurora's favorite parent."

That got her a poke on the nose. Face still rather blank, as he wasn't up much for fake smiling, never was really, around her, he said simply, "Oh, Steph. Tell me you didn't think even for a second that you ever were?"

But she wasn't wholly wrong. He did get to spend a lot more time with the baby than he would have otherwise. He tried to see this as a positive. He was able to, in retrospect, do much the same with his injury back in '01, seeing it in many ways as solidifying his relationship with Stephanie. He knew in about two years, when he looked back at it, he would most definitely see it that way, as a chance to get special time in with his first born, but there was no way he could at the moment.

He was still far too depressed.

Steph told him that she didn't have to be at the RAW that following week, but he sent her off with a grumble about how one of them had to be working, else they'd be at one another's throats before too long.

Which left him with the baby. Not alone, of course, as though he had his crutches, if something happened, there'd certainly need to be someone else around to help with the baby.

So his mother came to stay with him. That was probably another plus he should have considered and maybe would, one day, as it was rare that he could to spend so much time with her either. He put on for her, however, in the way that he didn't have to with Steph and refused to act as if anything at all was wrong.

And she enjoyed being around Aurora too, so there was that. The only really big decision that Paul had that night was whether he was going to watch RAW or not.

It had been a bit for him, since he actually watched it when he was at home and therefore not on. It wasn't something that he enjoyed either. He more or less hate-watched it, glaring rather heavily at the television the entire time, only lightening up when his mother would come in the room and remind him that he didn't have to watch it. Then she'd make the mistake of reminding him (as if he needed a reminder) that nothing going on would affect him anyways; he'd be out for a long while.

He turned it off before it finished and, after thanking his mom for staying the night, went to check on Aurora once before going to bed.

Useless felt like his main function then. Restless felt like his only emotion.

Steph, however, was always looking for ways to make him feel better. And after three weeks of having few visitors and mostly just becoming Aurora's main source of entertainment, she figured she should at least give him something to look forward to, rather than the very distant future when he'd finally be able to begin rehab.

"You wanna what?" he asked with a slight frown when she brought it up.

"You know," she said with that grin of hers that was typically infectious. He was better at fighting it off that night. "I wanna give you a sponge bath."

"Uh, Steph, I don't- Rora, stop it."

No. She was having far too much fun reaching up at and pulling at his hair to ever stop.

At the moment, they were lying in he and Stephanie's bed, him playing with (read being tortured by) the baby while Stephanie was in the bathroom, door open, taking off her makeup.

"You have to grab her hand and tell her no," Stephanie told him, knowing without even peaking in there just what was going on. Staring instead into the mirror as she ran the makeup wipe down her face, the woman said, "Besides, Paul, that doesn't sound like fun to you?"

"It sounds like what old men get from hot young nurses in po- No, Aurora. I mean it."

But he didn't. He had a far too hard time using any tone with her other than his normal one. It was too hard to scold her. Which is why she just reached up and tugged at it some more. When he fell back on the bed, she was not discouraged in the slightest. Just took to sitting beside him and patting on his stomach, giggling at the sound.

This was more tolerable than hair pulling though, so Paul let it go without complaint.

"I think you're missing what I'm trying to convey here, babe," Steph called out to him.

"I really don't wanna talk about it right now," he told her simply as Aurora, though rather good at sitting up all on her own, like the big girl she was becoming, started to fall backwards. He only reached a hand down to steady her though, getting some more giggles out of the by then six month old girl. As he gently pulled the baby around so that she was resting against his side rather than facing him, he added, "It's not an easy thing to think about when I have the Goddess of Destruction in here trying hard to vie for my attention."

And she was dang good at getting it.

"Close," he heard Steph remark from the bathroom. "But I think there was a Titan of Destruction, not a goddess."

"Well, whatever she is," he griped lightly as Aurora whined about not being able to face him any longer, forcing him to lift her up and sit her on his chest, "it's kinda hard to concentrate on...that with her bothering me."

But he was certainly glad that he allowed himself to be talked into it later that night as he sat in the bathroom on a chair with Steph in front of him, washcloth in hand and that rather devious glint in her eyes.

"I will admit," he mumbled as she leaned down to rub the cool cloth against his abdomen, "that this is much better than when I do it alone."

"Isn't everything we do together?"

Grinning as he shut his eyes, he only said, "I feel bad for who ever's going to have to sit in a chair that my bare ass has been in."

"Well, they eat at a table that you fucked my bare ass on, so-"

"It was cleaned afterward, thank you."

Because that was her specification for such an action. It was the only time that she could actually get him to clean anything anyways.

She giggled as she finally just got on her knees, apparently finding that easier than bending over him. Taking a bar of soap then to his abs, she said, "For someone so resistant, you seem to be enjoying it."

"Yes, well," he said, peeking his eyes open though he didn't take stock of the bathroom at all, only kept his eyes train down, focused on his wife, "I pictured it being more clinical than this."

"What do you mean?" She cocked her head to the side, down there beside the chair, staring up at him from her knees. "How is this not clinical?"

"I can think of a few ways it's about to not be," he remarked. "When you'd finally realized I couldn't give a damn how clean my chest is and would like you to go ahead and start lower."

"You're pretty naughty, Mr. Patient."

"I could get naughtier if you, Ms. Nurse, would go ahead and slip outta what you're wearing too."

"That wouldn't be protocol," she whispered as she stared up at him with her mouth hanging open, just a tad. It was rather uncomfortable, honestly, with her knees resting on the tile of the bathroom floor, but she wouldn't let on. Not when she was making him feel better. Pushing up, she went to wring out the washcloth from some suds before coming right back to him and getting on her knees once more. "And if I did it for you, every patient would ask for it."

"Every other patient can go bite my ass."

"Turn around and I'll go get them."

He laughed too, at that, in a way that he hadn't recently. He'd felt rather down on himself and, really, the only thing that kept him in high spirits was when Aurora did something super cute and he had to laugh. At the moment, however, it was just Steph being her usually quick witted self and that was more than enough to brighten his day.

Of course, it helped that he knew he'd be getting head soon enough.

It helped a lot, actually.

"Can a nurse speak this way to a patient?" He held his head up higher as she leaned up on her knees, running the damp cloth over his neck and surrounding areas. "Feel like I should definitely report you to someone."

"Considering you basically just tried to proposition for me for sex-"

"The hell else did I pay for my own private room for?"

"-I really don't think you're in any- And hey, that's not funny." She'd dropped the dubious tone then and he glanced down at her pouting face. "That made me sound like a prostitute."

"And you're more offended by that than a naughty nurse that, apparently, goes around and let's random guys in a hospital give her the slip?"

"W-Well, I'd imagine I'd be pretty picky about which guys-"

"Besides." He reached a hand out to pat her on the head. "We can play prostitute and dirty john another time."

"I really hope we don't."

He let his hand fall from her head then and leaned back in the chair, just a bit. "Right now, I want to be ravished by my nurse."

"You have to wait."

"For wha'?" he complained, though he shut his eyes regardless, knowing it'd come soon enough.

"I still have to finish your bath. You don't expect me to sleep with unclean men, do you?"

"Considering you're having sex on the job," he mumbled, "I really don't know where your morals end and your nursing duties begin, so do whatever you see fit."

"I think as long as I don't let you die," she told him as she rubbed the washcloth down one of his arms, "that I'm fulfilling my job requirements."

"I just might though," he told her through a soft sigh. "You don't hurry this along."

"Patience is a virtue."

"I think I'm just about all dried up on that, thanks."

They felt closer to one another that night, as they laid down to go to bed. She went a bit later than him, as she had something to take care of for work, she said, but he was up and waiting for her when she finally did join him.

"You check on Rora?" he asked to which his wife, head resting against his side, gave his skin a gentle kiss. Taking that as a yes, he said, "Good. I thought she'd be harder to get down tonight than she was."

"Mmmm," Steph sighed. "I think she's getting used to her daddy being the one to put her there."

"She might as well," was his rather dry remark. "I ain't got nothin' to do for a year."

For a moment, Stephanie said nothing. Then, slowly, she pushed up so that she could stare down at him in the darkness of their bedroom.

"Paul," she said softly, blue eyes locking with his. "It won't be a year."

"You don't know that."

"I do know that. And even if it was, so what?" Reaching a hand out, she rested it against his cheek then and, even though he wanted to look off, he kept his eyes trained on hers. "You're the only man I know that can come back from this. Twice now. Nothing keeps you down."

"Yeah, well, maybe it should."

"Maybe," she agreed which, for the record, wasn't what he was wanting. He wanted her to tell him about how he had to get back to wrestling and it was his life and that how dare he feel depressed when people went through far worse with far less to fall back on. "If that's what you want. But right now, I don't care about wrestling. I care about you. And I want you to get better. Not Triple H. He could never wrestle again. But I want my husband to walk again and be himself and just remember that no matter what, he's accomplished more than most people ever will."

A beat passed, but once it had, he only nodded slightly and, grinning softly, she leaned down to press a kiss gently to his lips. Then, falling off to his side once more, she whispered, "But if anyone could come back from this, it's definitely Triple H."

He let out a soft breath before whispering, "You better hope so. Because something tells me he'd be a monster to deal with if he was retired."

"Compared to the monster he is on a daily basis?"

Paul rested a hand over the one she had thrown across his chest. "You know that you're the only one that could help me through this."

"Mmmm."

"But you're a pretty shitty nurse. Didn't even wash my hair."

She held down rolling her eyes and instead only closed them. "That greasy thing? You're on your own."

"Right. So you're a nurse who can't touch a man's hair, but could put his dick in your-"

"Paul."

"Going to sleep," he said, though it was with a smile tugging at his lips. Then, shutting his own eyes, he whispered, "See you in the morning, Steph."

"Yeah." His side got one last kiss. "The morning."

I'm still more or less feeling out their dynamic, but you guys seemed to think that I got their characters right in the last one-shot, so I hope this still rings true.