Title: Tiny Dancer

World: AU

Rated: M (Mature)

Genre(s): Romance/Drama

Pair(s): Randy/Adam, Jeff/Phil, Mike/JoMo, etc.

Summary: Adam is a dancer with a secret. Randy is a widower with a four-year-old child. When they meet, will love blossom? Or will someone be heartbroken?

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone. I also don't own the lyrics used.

Warning: Slash, Exotic Dancing, Stripping, Violence, Mpreg, Slight Dub-Con, etc.

Part: 11/? – Healing Love

OOOO

Jeff went to the bathroom and stood in front of the full-body mirror. A dark shadow stained his otherwise handsome face. Phil hesitated in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. He wanted to be of assistance, but he also didn't want to make Jeff feel as if he had been backed into a corner. Finally, he left the room, only to come back a few minutes later with a fluffy white towel in hand. Jeff looked at it blankly. Obviously, he didn't want his blood to soil the clean, white fabric. Phil shook it off and handed it over to him.

Jeff looked at him sadly. "Could you… could you wait outside? I just… I don't want to…" It was obvious that he had difficulty with the words that he wanted to say.

Phil nodded. He had a look of sullen realization on his face. "Actually, I'll wait downstairs. I'll leave some fresh clothes outside of the bathroom door, okay? Just leave those in the bathroom."

Jeff was thankful that Phil had acquiesced to his wishes, even if it was obvious that they hurt him. "Thank you."

Phil didn't answer. He left the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Shakily, Jeff set the towel onto the marble counter and started to lift his shirt over his head. As he did so, he revealed several bruises and cuts that would soon form scars. Gently, he brushed his hand over a small cut over his abdomen that still bled freely. What the hell had that bastard done to him? Hesitantly, he looked down at his belt and his jeans. He could still feel the dried blood that was caked onto his skin. It made him feel soiled and nauseated.

Carefully, Jeff took off the rest of his clothes and tossed them into the hamper. He knew that Phil would come by later and wash them, most likely while Jeff was otherwise occupied. Now, Jeff turned around and started the water. He turned it on as hot as it would come and slid under the spray, allowing it to wash off the reminders of that horrific experience. Is that what Adam felt when he was attacked by Chris? Jeff shuddered just to think about it. He reached down and took hold of a fresh washcloth, which he lathered with scentless soap and started to scrub himself.

If it was possible, he most likely removed several layers of skin as he tried to remove that bastard's scent from all over his body. A thin stream of pink water swirled down the drain as the blood that was caked onto his skin slid off and all that was left was the burning, painful reminder of what had occurred in that room. Jeff turned off the water. He stepped out of the shower and dried himself off with the towel, careful to avoid some still-sore areas. True to his word, Phil had left him some fresh track pants and a loose white t-shirt to put on after his shower.

When Jeff came back downstairs, Phil sat on the couch with the television turned on low. "Hey." He said weakly.

Phil barely even turned to face him. "Hey."

Jeff looked down at the floor and tucked his still-wet hair behind his ear. "Can I… can I ask a question, Phil? And I don't mean to upset you; I really don't… but… please?"

Finally, Phil turned the television off and turned around so that he could look at Jeff. He tucked one leg under his body to make himself a little bit more comfortable. "Sure. Ask away."

"Would you be really mad if I moved into the spare bedroom?" Jeff forced out after several minutes of silence.

Phil bit down on the inside of his mouth. Jeff could see that he was clearly hurt by the idea. "No. Go ahead."

Jeff watched as Phil slid off the couch and started to lace his sneakers. "Phil? Where are you going?" Jeff didn't receive an answer, so he decided to ask again. "Where are you going, Phil?"

Phil looked back at him hesitantly. "I just need a breath of fresh air. Go ahead and move your stuff into the spare bedroom." Phil walked toward the door, but made sure to toss over his shoulder. "Don't worry. I'll be back."

Jeff seemed a little slow to believe that, but he finally nodded. "Okay."

A few minutes after Phil left, Jeff went back upstairs and walked into the bedroom that he used to share with Phil. He was terrified to allow Phil to see how truly broken he was. Once he entered inside, he was immediately assaulted by the comforting scent of his lover. Quickly, he took a few outfits out of his closet and threw them onto the bed. He also took his cologne and nail polishes off of the dresser. With his other hand, he took hold of the laces of two sets of his shoes. He carried all of this into the spare bedroom.

The spare bedroom was small, but it seemed incredibly spacious and it was all his own. He hung the clothes in the closet and set the shoes inside of the closet on a small shelf. And then, Jeff sat down on the bed and buried his face in his hands. His body had started to ache incredibly. Maybe Phil had a bottle of Tylenol in his medicine cabinet. Jeff slid off of the bed and walked into the bathroom down the hall. He took some Tylenol and swallowed it down with a mouthful of water. And then he went back to the bedroom and went to bed to try and sleep the pain away.

OOOO

"John." Mike looked at his boyfriend honestly. "I think that we need to talk."

All of the color seemed to drain out of John's handsome face. He frowned and allowed Mike to haul him down the hall and into their den. "What do we need to talk about?"

Mike smiled sweetly at him and all of the tension seemed to flow out of John's body. "I have something that I wanted to ask you for awhile, John. And I think that now is the perfect time."

John blinked slowly. He watched as Mike reached into his back pocket and took out a black velvet box from his back pocket. "Mike…"

"John – you're perfect. You're so beautiful that I can't define it with words. And this baby will be beautiful as well. I want us to be together forever and raise this baby together. So John, will you marry me?" Mike asked.

Tears bubbled in John's eyes. "Mike…"

Mike's smile fell. "What's the matter, baby?"

"I have a confession to make and I'm not sure how you're gonna take it." John said lowly.

Mike rose off of his knee and set the box on the table. He took both of John's hands and locked eyes with his boyfriend. "What's the matter, baby? You know that you can tell me anything."

John smiled a weak, watery smile. "I didn't want to tell you this, but I have to. I used to work the extra shift at the club, which is basically a fast track to sell your body for money. I was with twenty men before Jeff finally saved me."

Mike was silent for a moment and John was sure that this would be the deal breaker. But then, Mike leaned forward and kissed him. "I'm so sorry about that, baby. You deserved better. And I swear that I won't let anyone hurt you."

John smiled and felt a few tears start to leak from his eyes. Carefully, Mike leaned forward and swiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb. And then, he bent down and scooped John into his arms, cradling the smaller brunette close to his chest and carrying him over to their couch. With an ease that rivaled even the most fluid of dancers, Mike slid John onto the black leather couch and turned him around so that he was stretched out over the cushions. He then knelt down by the side of the couch and tapped their foreheads together.

John was sure that this was love. How could it not be? If Mike could see past the fact that so many other men had touched him, been inside of him, had soiled him… where would he find someone else like Mike? Slowly, Mike leaned forward and toyed with John's curly brown hair. John's smile never faltered. He loved to feel Mike's hands all over him, from his head to his actual body. It just felt so perfect and made him feel so safe, it was difficult to put into words. Mike took the blanket off of the back of the couch and put it on John's lithe body.

John locked his eyes with Mike's. "Yes."

Mike seemed to be broken out of a silent reverie by this one word. "What?"

John looked at the ring that still sat on the table behind them. Suddenly, it all seemed to fall into place. Mike could barely contain his beaming smile. "Yes, I'll marry you."

Quickly, Mike walked over and retrieved the ring. He took it out of the box and walked over to the chocolate-haired man who was still stretched out on the couch. He took John by the hand and slid the ring onto his finger. It glistened and gleamed and it fit him perfectly. And then, Mike carefully climbed over John and snuggled down beside the exotic dancer. John slowly turned over and Mike took a bit of the blanket to cover himself. The two stared into each other's eyes, content to just be together.

"So beautiful." Mike took John's left hand and kissed it before he kissed the ring as well. And then he touched a hand to the small swell of John's stomach. "So, so beautiful."

A dark blush spread over John's cheeks as Mike lavished his face in soft, subtle kisses. "You really think so?" He asked hesitantly.

Mike drew back, a small smile on his face. "I know so."

John put his free hand over Mike's on his stomach. "I went to the doctor earlier. She gave me the gender of the baby." John said calmly, looking down at his stomach with love.

Mike looked into John's eyes. "What did she say that it was?"

John's hand moved up and brushed over the stubble on Mike's cheek softly. "She said that it's a little boy. And I even have a name in mind for him." Mike looked at him expectantly. "I want to name him Doan Michael Mizanin."

Mike's smile broadened. "I like that name."

Mike could see the rush of relief that washed over John know that he confessed to his history. He was a little hurt that John thought he wouldn't love him as much because he had been with other men, but he didn't let it show. They could talk about that later. Right now, he cradled his brunette to his chest and softly stroked his delicate chocolate curls. Within minutes, John was fast asleep. The subtle rise and fall of his chest was like a lullaby to Mike, and soon, the other man was fast asleep as well.

OOOO

"Hey, sweetheart." Adam looked down at Brielle, who blinked at him slowly. She had an oxygen mask on, so she couldn't talk back, but he knew that she liked it when he talked to her. "Mommy promised that he would come visit."

Weakly, Brielle reached out and took his hand. Her eyes were wide and scared.

"Shh… it's okay, baby. Don't be scared. Mommy's here now. I promised that I would be here and I'm here now. There's no reason to be scared. Mommy will always be there for you." Adam said softly and watched as she calmed.

Just then, the door opened and a tall, muscular brunette walked in. "Is this Brielle Copeland's room?"

"Yes." Adam nodded. "Who are you?"

"I'm John Cena. I have a present here on behalf of All World Productions." John set the flowers on the windowsill. "You're Adam Copeland?" Adam nodded. "We need to talk."

OOOO

A/N: Please Review!