That night, Phil dreamt. That, in and of itself, was a dangerous occurrence, considering that there was no telling where his imagination would take him when his guard was down. But this dream, while not one that he would've asked for at his current stage of recovery, was not entirely unwelcome either. It was Christmas Eve, and he was spending it with his family. The much-welcome sound of the pitter-patter of little feet filled the halls, the delectable scent of freshly prepared food was in the air, and everyone was happy.

And there, in the midst of it all, was the son that he had never known. From tiny sound-bites that came in and out of focus, Phil was able to decipher that the little boy's name was Christopher Jackson Irvine - CJ, for short. He had Phil's short, dark hair, and Chris' electric blue eyes. He was running around in a pair of Thomas the Tank Engine footie-pajamas, playing with a truck that Santa had brought him last year. Phil couldn't help but get a little teary-eyed watching him, reveling in how beautiful he was. Would they ever be able to have children?

Phil had then awoken with a start, startled to find that he actually was crying. The tears streamed down his face in endless rivers, and he was powerless to stop them. "Are you alright there, man? Do you want me to call for Dr. Jamison?"

But Phil hurriedly shook his head, waving off his roommate. "No, I... I'm fine. I just had a dream... that's all." He said, practically breathless.

"A nightmare?" The man pressed, clearly still worried for the Straight-Edge Superstar.

"No." Phil shook his head. A sad smile started to appear on his face, despite the tears. "It was a... good dream." He wiped at his eyes, falling back onto his pillow with a huff. "No need to call the doc, okay? I'm fine."

"If you say so, man." His roommate said, and then the lights went out again.

"I just don't know about this..." Hunter said, even as he continued to draw up the official paperwork for the Chris Jericho vs. CM Punk match at the Payback pay-per-view. "I honestly don't think he's ready, and we're all making matters worse by encouraging him."

Shawn lazily rubbed at his eyes, clearly not fully awake and in no mood to deal with one of his husband's late-night talks. He always waited until two in the morning to get down to the nitty-gritty things that weighed on his mind. "He's a big boy. He can make the decision on his own."

"I know. I just... I can't help but think, what if it were you, and the baby was Hera?"

Shawn clenched his jaw tight and shut his eyes. "Hunter, don't make me smack you."

"I'm just saying!" Hunter said whilst trying to defend himself from any surprise attacks from his husband. "If you had miscarried and became depressed, would you want to go straight from therapy to a huge match at a pay-per-view?"

"No, I'd want to go home and sob into a pint of Ben and Jerry's, but that's just me," Shawn told him. "Phil and I are two entirely different people. His escape from reality isn't crying, it's wrestling. If I weren't mistaken, I'd say it's almost damn therapeutic to him."

"I'm still not so sure if I'm doing the right thing in billing this match," Hunter said, worrying his lip.

"Why don't you run it over with Chris again? He knows Phil better than we do," Shawn suggested with a yawn escaping his lips. "If Phil weren't ready, though, you know he'd speak up. You worry too much."

"My, how the tables have turned," Hunter said, a smirk cracking across his face. Shawn offered him a sleepy smile in return.

"Get some rest, talk to Chris in the morning," Shawn told him again.

"Fine, fine, I will," Hunter agreed.

Chris woke up to his phone ringing. He looked at who it was, but the bright screen burned his eyes. He answered without looking back at the screen.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Hey, Chris, it's Hunter. I have a question for you."

"Shoot," Chris said, his eyes shutting again.

"Do you think if Phil weren't ready for the match, that he'd say so?" Hunter asked.

Chris let out a small yawn. "I've known that man for quite a few years now, and if he has a problem, you can bet your ass that he'll make his opinion known. If he's not ready, he will speak up. I promise you that."

"So do you think booking this match is okay?"

"Yes," Chris answered confidently. "He told you he's ready. If you don't book that match, he'll find you and strangle you. Just a warning."

"Thanks for the heads up," Hunter offered sarcastically. "In all serious, though, thank you. CM Punk vs. Chris Jericho is set for Payback."

"I can't wait," Chris said, smiling despite himself. "I'll talk to you later, Hunter. I'm about to fall asleep again."

"It's half past noon," Hunter informed him.

"It's midnight somewhere," Chris said before hanging up.

In his private session that evening, he told Dr. Jamison about his dream in as much detail as he could remember. She let him say everything before she looked down at her clipboard thoughtfully for a few moments.

"Would you consider that a nightmare?" she asked him.

"Honestly, no," Phil said, exhaling quickly. "It was – a really nice dream, actually. Everything … we were so happy, all of us. Seeing CJ running around, full of life, made me feel better, like he's somehow getting a chance at life. To see him from the ultrasound picture to what I saw last night, it makes me feel a lot less broken inside. Whenever I think of the baby now, I don't see the fuzzy gray picture anymore. I see the black-haired boy with shockingly blue eyes in fleece pajamas playing with toys and giggling up a storm. I know he's happy wherever he is and he's loved dearly by me and Chris. I can't see him in real life, but if for some reason he wants to see me, he can see me in my dreams. I know that all probably sounds so confusing and stupid, but I kind of feel at peace now, like I had some sort of closure."

"It's not stupid at all, Phil," Dr. Jamison assured him softly. "You never truly got to say hello or goodbye to your son, and now it's like you got to say both all at once. I can't imagine the peace you must feel now."

"The only thing is, I want to be able to try to have a baby again. I know I can't get CJ back, but maybe I can get another baby. I'm just worried my body isn't able to carry a baby. I've never had any sort of testing done on me for any of that."

"Would you like me to send you to a specialist? They'll be able to assess your body to see if your body is equipped for childbearing."

"That would be great," Phil admitted quietly.

"Alright, well I will call the specialist tonight and hopefully they'll be able to see you tomorrow. Does that sound okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, that sounds great," Phil said.

"Perfect. I think we're all set here for tonight, Phil. I'll tell you as soon as I know when your appointment is."

"Thank you," he said, a real smile flashing across his face for the first time to the woman.