The next morning, John was up first. Pulling on clothes that were strewn across the floor, I headed to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.

"Hey, you're up?" Dropping the coffee cup at the voice, I felt like an idiot. John sighed and helped pick up the pieces while I wiped up the coffee. Arms wrapped around me and I too sighed.

"Why so jumpy baby?" Turning around in his arms, I tried to find a real reason why.

"Scared me is all. Did you shower yet? We have to be at the funeral home at," I glanced at the clock, 10:30 then continued, "11:30. The f...funeral starts at noon." I pulled out of his arms and headed up the stairs to take a shower, John didn't even ask to join me. Thoughts swirled through my head while in that shower.

Life is a funny thing. Right when you think you have it figured out, there's always that game changer. You can make plans, always think what's ahead, or just live in the moment. Either way, at any given moment the rug can be ripped out from under you and question everything you know. What really sucks is that there's nothing you can do to stop it. When someone you love dies, the world continues to spin on, as much as you wish it would just slow down or even stop. Soon the water ran cold and I took that as a cue to hop out and finally get motivated. Not like anyone really wants to do what's about to be done. All I could think of as John and I drove there was how Phil and Emma-Lynn were.

As if he could hear my thoughts, John spoke up,

"Tay, don't worry about them right now. You'll have time for that. Just worry about getting through the day; for you. You're strong. One of the reasons I fell in love with you." In an instant I felt slightly relieved, but just as quickly, it disappeared. I grabbed his hand and squeezed.

"I love you too Johnny. I'm sorry that I'm going to be an emotional wreck. You don't deserve it. I just...Hope was the one who I've always had in my life," I started to choke up, and again he squeezed my hand. "I'm just gonna stop. Save my tears for later."

It was all a blur, up to now; standing at her casket. It's hard to believe that they put people in those things, and then bury them. It's sickening to think about. The preacher droned on as people cried, but to me and most likely Punk, maybe John, the silence was deafening. John had an arm around me, being strong, expecting me to fall apart. I felt like crying, but I just couldn't. This feels all too much like a dream, or at least an episode of some TV show.

Punk stood closest to the casket, just looking down at it. Punk was a hard-ass, tough as nails and rarely cried. I pulled away from John's soft embrace, and moved through a couple people until Punk was right next to me, on the right. Hesitantly, I went to grab his hand, but slightly did. All of a sudden, he grabbed my hand all the way. Then he looked down at me as a lone tear fell from his hazel eyes. Offering a slight smile, Punk merely nodded. Then, he began crying like he had the night before. The night before, he was there to comfort me; today I'm here to do the same for him.

As people began to leave, Punk and I just stood there. Then John came and stood to my left, and grabbed my other hand. This was a total chick flick moment, and I'm sure the two WWE Superstars knew it too. The so-called, "Best In the World," was first to pull away. One last look at Hope's coffin, and he turned on his heel, leaving us. Until John stopped him,

"Hey Punk!" John jogged up to him and rubbed the back of his neck. Smiling at his mannerism, I continued listening. Yes, basically eavesdropping. "If you want Tay and I to watch Emma for you, just let us know. Or if ya know, need something." CM Punk rolled his eyes, and I clenched a fist.

"Thanks Mr. Boy scout, I'll let you know. Now go back to your perfect little world, why you still have your girl and take her for granted. Alright dude? Then both of you just leave me alone, because I don't need anyone's help. Especially you, because we both know you don't care." Punk gave a smirk and then said, "Pipe bomb." Before John could reply, Phil left. I was alone looking at the newly covered hole.

"God Hope, did you ever pick a winner. Why did you make me promise you to look out for them? Emma-Lynn of course, but him? Why did you have to leave? Why couldn't you just stay-?"

"Hey, you okay?" Hearing John's voice made me suck in all the tears; time to be strong. Turning around, the Cenation leader looked half-sad, and half-pissed off. Throw in a little concern.

"Yeah, just ready to go. You okay?" Solemnly, John nodded and I wondered how much lying we would be doing on if we were "okay," or not. Deep down, it worried me how easy it is for us to lie to eachother. So with that, the two of us walked back to his jeep. One last glance backward, I looked at where the girl I considered my sister, was buried. I felt like I was leaving her; again, and letting her down for not being able to save her.

Yet as John fell asleep and I lay awake, still in his arms, I could only think of Punk and how tonight was his first night alone with Emma-Lynn. One could only hope he doesn't do something stupid. Carefully pulling out of his arms, I pulled on his green "Cenation" shirt, and grabbed my cell phone. Tip toeing downstairs, my footfalls continued until I was sitting by the pool; feet dangling in the water. Taking a deep breath and opening the phone, hit the first speed dial. Soon, a gruff voice answered,

"Taylor, princess are you okay? It's two in the morning." I couldn't help but smile at the nickname I know so well.

"Hey. Uhh, I…I don't know if I am Daddy." I choked back a sob, and I could hear him sitting up in bed.

"Hunter?" I heard my mom, Stephanie's voice come over the phone. Dad mumbled something about going back to sleep, and that it was all okay. Clearly Mom had to be half asleep, because any other time she would have told him off and ranted on how I'm her daughter too; I was a grown woman, but mom could still be as over protective as ever. Dad was quiet as he made his way out and probably into his office that he spent countless hours in.

"I saw Hope's obituary in the paper," The Cerebral Assassin said with a yawn as he tried to be there for his only daughter. "I'm sorry your mom and I couldn't fly out there. We were going to, but something came up. It's a shitty excuse but….what happened to her?"

"She had placenta previa. When she was having Emma, she ruptured and bled to death," this all seems more surreal saying out loud, "and she was gone. I watched her die Daddy. Then I watched my best friend get put six feet under. Punk cried! He never does. I promised her I'd be there for him and Emma-Lynn, but I don't know if I can."

"Shh. Princess," I cried harder at the nickname given to me by The Game himself, "it'll be hard, especially knowing Punk. I know you and you'll keep your promise regardless. Had I known, I would've been there for you, today. That baby girl is going to need you; you'll be the closest thing she has to a mother." I nodded, not like he could see me, but you don't argue with Paul Levesque.

"Okay Daddy. I'm sorry I called you so late; especially crying like a little girl." Dad gave a hearty laugh and in an instant I honestly missed my father.

"It's fine. You'll always be my little girl Taylor. I don't care how old you get. Don't ever forget that, understood?"

"Understood. You should get back to bed old man," I laughed and he knew I was joking. He laughed too, as he does when I call him that. "I'll call you tomorrow whenever we get up. Tell Mom I said g'night. Love you Daddy."

"Love you too sweetheart. Remember, I will kick Cena's ass if he isn't there for you." With another laugh and goodnight, we hung up. I loved my mom, but I would forever be a daddy's little girl.

Glancing at the phone, I hesitantly hit speed dial three. After several rings, it went straight to voicemail, just like it always will.

"Hey, you've reached Hope, congratulations! Haha no, but sorry I can't come to my phone right now. I'm probably busy, or it's on silent and I didn't realize it. Please leave a message and I'll get back to you. Bye!" I re-dialed a couple more times, until it was picked up.

"Taylor, why the hell are you calling her phone?" Punk's gruff and angered voice said. Fuck my life, I didn't think this through. I hesitantly answered,

"I...uhh, yours is off and I wanted to…" I trailed off, knowing he'd hate to be checked on already.

"You wanted to what Taylor? Check on me, I'm assuming?" Anger flooded through me that he acted as if he knew me so well.

"First off, you don't know me, so don't be an asshole and assume you do. Second, I know you're an insomniac so I know I didn't wake you. Third, I just wanted someone to talk to, but excuse me; I didn't realize I dialed the number of the royal jackwagon. So I'm hanging up-"

"Wait!" Punk exclaimed, shocking the both of us.

"What?" Sighing, I felt bad for being such a bitch, believe me, I usually am not.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm sorry."

Smiling I merely said,

"Me too."

After a few moments of just hearing his breathing I felt calmer; as if I could actually sleep now. Maybe it's just knowing that he was okay, alive, and not doing anything stupid.

"So, for someone who wanted to talk, you're awfully silent."

"I'm not sure what to say, actually. The two of us haven't talked in a long time, honestly."

"We used to be friends," he sighed, "rather close actually."

Offering a small laugh, I smiled at the memories. We were once, but eventually he met my best friend and John finally divorced Liz. Things fell into place for us romantically, but we weren't close anymore. Like two different people.

"Yeah, I guess we were, huh. I'm sorry if I bugged you. I just-"

"You don't have to explain, like you said; I am an insomniac. Plus, Emma was crying so I was up anyway. Before you ask, she's fine. She just needed a diaper changed." Maybe he wouldn't need help so much after all.

"That's good, and thanks for telling me Punk. I should let you go, it's almost four. Watch the "Walking Dead," or something. It's your favorite show."

"Ha, you're a smart one, aren't you? Alright then, night Helmsley."

"Night Brooks." He hung up and eventually I did too.

Finally, I was back in bed, feeling as if I could sleep. John was still conked out, but rolled onto his back. Laying my head on his chest, his arm wrapped around me in his sleep. For the first time, it was peaceful. Soon the sun would rise. Even when things suck, the sun still manages to rise. As if it doesn't know how much darkness there really is in the world. Even with someone you love gone, the world still spins on, even if you feel as if yours is falling apart.