Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Christabel.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Mpreg, Violence, Domestic Violence, Murder, etc.

It was rather fortunate for John and Randy that one of the other wrestlers, who had suffered from a touch of insomnia because of a brutal match that they had lost at the house show earlier that day, had heard the shots and had come to their room to investigate. When he found the door open, he allowed himself inside. But once he saw the mess, he almost wished that he hadn't been so curious. Evan Bourne was already dead. Randy was not far behind.

He chanced turning on the lights, but that only made it worse. His stomach turned when he saw the instrument that had caused Evan's demise. The bloody umbrella sat a few feet away from his body. The crown of his head had been cracked and blood had splattered a good foot around where his body had actually fallen. His once bright blue eyes now stared blankly ahead, seeing everything and nothing at the same time. He was smiling.

Randy lay on the bed. He had been shot three times, it looked like. One had only clipped his shoulder. The second bullet had fully impaled his shoulder blade and made a bloody mess of it. He would be lucky if he ever regained full use of it. And the final shot had come at the base of his spine. He hoped that it hadn't severed his spinal cord. He could tell Randy was still alive because the occasional, stuttering breath caused blood to ooze from his spinal injury.

And then there was John. John had been shot in the knee. He could still see the bullet where it had impaled the bone. He lay on the floor, breathing heavily. The room was rank and it was obvious that someone had been sick, because Evan's body was not so far decomposed as to smell so awfully. There was blood all over him and he had to wonder if John was even conscious. He was too far away to see if he was breathing or not.

Quickly, he took out his phone, not wanting to waste another minute. He dialed 911. "Hello. My name is Justin Gabriel." He offered up the name of the hotel. "There is one man dead and two have been seriously wounded." A pause. "Yes, both were shot." Pause. "One was hit in the head with the handle of an umbrella."

There was more debate from the dispatcher. "Both victims that were shot are still alive." Another pause. "Okay, I can stay with them until then."

Chris' idea had sounded absolutely brilliant. That was, of course, until he found himself outside the door to their hotel room (or should he call it Ricardo's hotel room) and could hear the sound of Ricardo's sobs on the other side of the door. It almost destroyed him to think that the smaller man had been in front of the door for hours, unable to collect himself and move on from the fact that Alberto had walked out. What if he hadn't come back?

And then, for one dreadful moment, he allowed his mind to dwell on that idea. What if he hadn't come back? What if he hadn't taken Chris' advice and had just walked away from it all? A horrific vision of Ricardo, unable to cope with this entire situation and deciding that ending it all was his only solution, filled his brain. Without further hesitation, he unlocked the door and stormed inside. Momentarily startled, the tears on his cheeks froze.

"A-Alberto? What a-are you…" Ricardo trailed off as he tried to control his emotional stutter. He scrubbed at his swollen, red-rimmed eyes with the back of his hand. "Why did you come back?"

Alberto swallowed hard as Ricardo's eyes filled with distrust and hate. He knew that he deserved all of it. "I came back because I love you, mi hermosa. All of this…" he motioned around the room, "was foolish. I was foolish."

"You were more than foolish. You were an idiot." The words summoned a little smile, but it soon died away.

"Call me whatever names you want. I deserve all of them, because all of them are true." Alberto said.

"What's gotten into you?" Ricardo stared at him skeptically. "Are you drunk?"

"Drunk on my love for you, mi hermosa."

Ricardo rolled his eyes. "Be serious, Alberto."

"I am being serious, Ricardo. I realize what an ass I've been and I want to make it up to you."

For a minute, Ricardo looked as if he didn't want to believe him. But finally, with a shuddering sigh, he nodded meekly and allowed a few more tears to leak from the corners of his eyes. "How?"

"Well, first off, I'm going to get you and Christabel out of his hell-hole. The two of you deserve to be safe and sound and I wouldn't risk that for the world. You know that, don't you?" Ricardo nodded. "And then, we're going to see my father. I've made arrangements with Vince and he's allowed us two weeks off.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. I know that I said that I wanted to wait until the baby is a little older, and truth be told, that would be the ideal. But given the current circumstances, it's not safe to do that. On the flight home, I plan to call my father and deliver an ultimatum. If he can't accept us, fine. Then he is free to disown me.

"If that happens, then we'll stay with my uncle. Unlike my father, my uncle is a little more laid-back when it comes to tradition. If I assure him of how much you mean to me and let him know that there is a child involved, he'll let us stay with him until this entire mess has blown over and we can come home. What do you say?"

After a moment of sniffling, Ricardo threw himself into Alberto's arms and started to sob into his chest. Finally, all of the emotions that he felt over the last few months could be released. "I say… thank you. I love you, Alberto."

Alberto smiled, tenderly brushing the hair away from Ricardo's face. "I love you too, mi hermosa. I love you too."

Once Ricardo had calmed, Alberto broke the embrace and handed the keys to the car over to his announcer. Ricardo looked at them fearfully for a moment, remembering when the tow truck had totaled one of Alberto's favorite cars. But Alberto insisted and Ricardo had no choice but to accept. Besides, he had an unfamiliar look in his eyes. It was a look that Ricardo had never been graced with before. He… He liked it.

This man… he had come so far from the days when he used to throw Ricardo around as if he were some kind of rag doll. It was unfortunate that it took something as drastic as rape to make such a change occur, but sometimes it takes drastic measures to see someone's disposition change. And Ricardo had to admit, this change was for the better. If Alberto hadn't changed… Well, Ricardo would still be in Mexico with his mother, father, and sister.

He rushed off to do as he had been told and Alberto walked over to the crib where Christabel lay, sound asleep. Carefully, he reached down and stroked the dark tendrils away from her sweet little face. And then, removing her from the crib, he set her in her car seat and balanced the handle over his right arm. In the other, he collected all of her carry-on items. The rest would be taken down to the car by one of the bellhops.

When he arrived down at the car, he carefully buckled her in. "You don't know how much this means to me, Alberto. I just wanted to say thank you again." Ricardo leaned forward and kissed his husband softly.

"You don't have to thank me, mi hermosa. Just seeing you smile for the first time in so long… that is enough of a thank you. I want this little trip to be a chance for rejuvenation. I want you to be able to finally heal."

Ricardo smiled. It was the first honest smile he had seen on the boy's face in a long time. "I'd like that."

After the bellhop loaded all of their items into the car, Alberto slid into the driver's seat and Ricardo, after checking on their baby one last time, climbed in beside him. He turned the classical music on low, not wanting to disturb the baby. Once everyone was settled, Alberto pulled out of the parking lot and started to make his way toward the airport. They weren't sure what awaited them at Alberto's father's house, but they did know one thing for certain. Right now, anywhere was better than here.