(AN: I know that it's been way too long since I've updated my fic and trust me, it wasn't done willingly. I just didn't have the time or energy or ability to write anymore with all of the stress and shit going on in my life. I'm done with school and enjoying summer, which means more time to write stress-free. I hope you enjoy this (very) long awaited chapter...consider it Christmas in the summer!)
Chapter Thirty-Seven: A Very Punkish X-mas
Hannah's POV
December was starting off as a crazy month, and it was only the first week! Punk was in the middle of getting ready for his feud at this year's Tables, Ladders and Chairs match he would have against the Shield. He was off in Oklahoma City, and he had the opening segment on RAW that night. Matthew and I were back home in Chicago—I had a few work commitments that I couldn't get out of, and our soon-to-be five month old was very active and full of energy, meaning that we had to keep a watchful eye on him at all times. And between Punk's high-profile feud at the upcoming pay-per-view, and me being in the final stages of negotiating a huge book deal, we decided it was best if I waited until work died down a little and it was closer to the PPV for us to travel.
Punk wasn't that excited about leaving us for over two weeks, clearly having gotten used to traveling with his two favorite companions. Even though I reminded him that he wouldn't have to endure Matthew's crying during his flight, or one of us having to constantly change him, he still pouted when it was time for him to leave. Clearly my husband was a big softie and it was sweet to see that he didn't want to leave us.
"Babe, go before you miss your flight. I promise we'll call you every night, okay? Now go" I told him, playfully shoving him as I expertly balanced our squirming baby on my hip.
He chuckle and gave me one of his signature lopsided smiles before relenting. Punk took the baby from me momentarily, and after covering his tiny face with kisses, he replaced our son in my arms. With a wave he was gone, and it was just me and my little guy.
"So Matthew, what are we going to do now that Daddy's gone? Have a party?" I joked.
Matthew didn't seem to like that suggestion, and instead let out a yawn.
"Okay, maybe not then. How about a bottle and a little nap? Mommy could use one too."
Punk had called after Matthew was down for his nap and told me that he gotten to the arena on time and had just finished opening the show. Unfortunately, I was fast asleep before he even finished explaining the first half hour. I woke up around three am, to hear the dial tone on the phone go off. I realized that Punk must have hung up and I made a mental note to call him back later. Matthew was currently screaming at the top of his little lungs and I trudged to his room, not without first tripping on a basket of clothes in the hallway. I muttered a few curses under my breath before quietly making my way to the nursery, rocking my infant son in my arms within seconds. I continued to hold him, swaying from side to side, hoping that he would soon fall back asleep. It was going to be hard without Punk for the next two weeks, I thought, stifling a yawn as I cradled a still crying Matthew.
Punk's POV
After my flight landed and I made my way to the arena, I called Hannah to let her know about how the first part of the show went. I soon realized that my wife must have fallen asleep on the other end, so I hung up the phone, chuckling to myself. These next two weeks away from the both of them was going to be difficult, and honestly, kind of lonely. As great as it would was to be with the guys all the time, and have a great feud going into the next PPV, I couldn't help but wish that the time would go by quickly and I would be back with my wife and son.
As the days passed, the guys noticed my lack of interest in their usual canteen conversations, and while they would usually mock me for missing my family, they told me to go and call them. I didn't have to be told twice and it wasn't long before I was in my bus, texting my wife. Usually I would just call her, but I missed seeing her and our son, so we decided on the next best thing, a Skype chat.
"Hey babe, hi buddy. Do you miss me? Do you miss Daddy?" I asked, psyched at seeing Matthew's cute, little chubby face over my computer screen.
He lit up when he heard my voice, causing pride to swell within me.
"Hi honey, how are you? How are the guys? We watched most of RAW and you were great. We missed the ending though, because we fell asleep" Hannah said with a small smile.
"I'm fine, the guys are good. I was pretty tired by the end of too" I replied with a chuckle.
We continued to chat for a little while longer before Matthew began to grow fussy and Hannah decided to put him to bed for the night. My wife and I were both wiped out from our busy days, and agreed to talk again the following day. The rest of the days went by in a very similar fashion—I would train and do press with the guys during the day, wrestle at night and then make sure to call my wife and son before they went to bed. Before any of us knew it, a week had passed and the company was in Seattle, Washington and tonight was the annual Slammy Awards.
The awards were being given out during the show, and after winning a one-on-one match against Dean Ambrose of the Shield, it was announced that I had actually won an award. Mick Foley presented me with a Slammy for "Extreme Moment of the Year" for basically half-killing Paul Heyman. Unfortunately for me, I wasn't wearing much—just my wrestling trunks and it definitely was weird accepting an award pant-less. Nevertheless, I thanked my fans for their support and Paul Heyman for being a fun target. I held the gold statute above my head, clutching my sore post-match ribs, and lastly thanked Seattle. This city had been quite good to me over the years and gave me the best gift of all—a cup of coffee to accidently spill on my future wife.
I couldn't wait to video-call Hannah and Matthew tonight, and I rushed through the motions of cleaning up so I could catch them before the baby went to bed.
"Babe, I have good news" I told my wife excitedly, waiting for her to stop burping Matthew so they could both see me.
"That's great honey, what's up?"
"I won an award tonight. Daddy won a Slammy buddy" I announced, proudly holding up my gold statuette.
Hannah's face broke out into a wide smile, and it was evident that she was proud of me.
"Congrats babe, we're so happy for you. Your son also had a successful day too. He was able to sit up by himself for a few seconds today, without being held up by a pillow or anything. He also tried to roll over from his back to his tummy. Clearly he has his father's athleticism" she informed me, laughing as she bounced him in her arms.
"I wouldn't sell yourself short, babe. I mean you've been known to be quite athletic at times" I replied, winking at her, causing a blush to stain her cheeks.
"Punk, your son is right here, in case you didn't realize that!"
I couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction.
"Uhh, Han? He has absolutely no idea what we're saying. He only knows baby gibberish—don't worry, soon enough he'll be as talkative as his chatty mom."
She narrowed her chocolate irises at me, before conceding with a smile.
"It's not exactly like you're the silent type" she countered.
I had to nod my head in agreement; she was right—I wasn't exactly known for being quiet or timid when it came to speaking my mind.
We continued to chat for a little while longer, and unfortunately there were still a few more days until they joined me in Texas for the TLC pay-per-view. I obviously loved having my wife by my side, but I especially enjoyed having Matthew being able to experience his father fighting and always trying to put on a good show. I was exhausted from the two weeks of intense training and preparation and I was severely sleep and family deprived—but I was really looking forward to having my wife and son join me on the road. Hannah and Matthew couldn't fly out soon enough.
Hannah's POV
"Thank gosh that is over" I exclaimed exhaustedly as I finally stepped foot in the Houston airport after a long and dreadful flight.
It wasn't my first time traveling cross-country with a child under one and a rowdy pit bull; however it still hadn't been fun. The baby didn't get any sleep on the relatively short flight and he had cried through takeoff and landing, prompting me to have to try to soothe him. I had honestly never been happier to get off a flight in my entire life—my son had gotten sick in flight and threw up his last bottle all over me. And because I was alone, I couldn't exactly leave him with someone for a moment so I could fix myself up. Which meant two things—I was covered in the bottle Matthew should have eaten, and he was now hungry (and cranky).
I thanked my lucky stars when the plane landed and we finally got off the plane. Matthew was finally asleep in the baby carrier, now that the flying part of our trip was done, and Rocky was silent for the first time the entire trip, curled up in his dog carrier. Luckily some very nice airport attendants helped me load the luggage into the car I had called, lastly placing our pit bull's holder beside me. I was beyond thrilled to get to the arena, and even happier that Punk had come to meet us and more importantly help with all the bags and carriers.
"Hi honey, please take your dog and some of your son's many bags. I've just had one of the worst flights ever and I really can't carry any more of this stuff" I stated, unceremoniously dropping some luggage to the ground.
He furrowed his brow for a second at me, before taking Rocky's carrier and picking up a few of the bags. I could tell he wanted to take Matthew from me too, but he was finally comfortable and quiet and I didn't want to move or wake him.
"Let's just go backstage and I'll tell you all about it" I said, slightly less miserable now that I was with him.
"I missed you guys, if that's any consolation" he replied sweetly, smiling as he led me to the guys' locker room.
Most of the guys were at training, or simply hanging out before the big show tonight, meaning that the room was empty with the exception of a few familiar faces.
"You guys finally made it! We thought you guys were going to be late for the show. At least you're here now, I can't wait for Matthew to be held by his favorite uncle" Edge boasted excitedly.
I couldn't help but chuckle slightly at this, but no one would be holding the baby for a while.
"I want to hold him too—I even got him a mini 'Strike First' shirt. He's going to look as cute as I do in it" Randy stated happily, going to fish the clothing out of his training bag.
"I'm pretty sure the godfather has dibs on playing with the baby first, am I right? And Randal, you guys already look kind of alike—you're both fond of baby oil and constantly in your underwear" Jeff supplied with a smirk.
"Two things actually—one: no dibs on the baby, ever. And two: he's finally asleep, and I don't want any of you knuckleheads waking him up, okay?" I told the guys; I wasn't exactly in the mood to calm down a tired baby just because they decided to wake him up to play.
"Relax babe, they're just excited you guys are finally here" Punk said, pulling me tighter into his embrace.
He placed a kiss on the top of my head, settling me slightly.
"I know, I'm just worn out from the trip, and he's finally resting. I promise everyone can have a turn holding the baby once he wakes up from his nap" I reasoned, the guys agreeing with nods.
My husband was less enthused and scrunched his nose in disgust as he pulled away from me.
"No offense, but you stink Han. It's like a mixture of sick baby and pitbull" my husband informed me with a laugh.
My face lit up in realization, "Oh shit, I forgot he threw up on me during the flight. Here take him so I can go get cleaned up."
I carefully lifted a snoozing Matthew out of his carrier and placed him in Punk's waiting arms.
"If any of you wake him up while I'm gone, I will slap all of you—and you guys will have to rock him back to sleep" I threatened on my way out of the locker room.
I made my way to Punk's bus easily and took a quick shower, before heading back to the locker room, where I hoped the guys weren't fighting over who would get to play with the baby first. I walked back and saw that Rocky was no longer in his carrier, but curled up by Edge's feet, a shocking sight.
"When the hell did that happen?" I asked with a chuckle as I took a seat next to Punk.
He looked up for a second, having been wrapped up in feeding Matthew his post-flight bottle.
"Three words: peanut butter bagel—well just the peanut butter. Rocky didn't really care for Edge's bagel that much, so when he was done licking the topping off; he tossed it onto his lap. It was hilarious."
"I'm so sorry I missed that" I dead-panned.
"Well I'm sorry that I've been gone so long. I missed you guys" he told me sweetly, shifting a now awake Matthew to his colorful forearms.
"We missed you too. I'm sorry I was cranky when we first got here. It was just a long flight and Matthew was fussy the whole time and I had to schlep all the luggage and Rocky and…" I began before I was cut off by a kiss from my husband.
"It's fine babe. I know you had a difficult time getting here, but it doesn't matter because you guys are here now."
"Okay, enough with the mushy crap. Who wants to go get some food? I'm starving" Randy declared, standing up to leave the locker room.
"Han? Do you wanna go?" Punk asked, standing up and placing Matthew in his carrier.
"Only if Edge holds Rocky's leash for a little bit. They seem to be getting along now, anyway. And plus, it lets me hold the baby and your hand at the same time" I stated, slipping my hand in his, carrying the baby carrier in the other.
We made our way to the canteen and got reacquainted with the whole roster, everyone wanting to hold and play with Matthew. With the exception of Edge though—after holding Matthew for less than a minute, Rocky was tugging on the bottom of his jeans. Clearly our pitbull had made a friend in the Rated 'R' Superstar. It was nice for Punk and me, because it meant that we didn't have to take him out for a walk (the dog not Edge), and we could spend more time with our friends. It was all going well until Kane threw open the doors to the canteen, and he didn't exactly look happy.
"WHY? All I wanted was to go to Wal-Mart to buy some more pringles and you messed up our GPS! You had one job—to just put in the location of the store. But what did you do? You changed the settings and now it's all in Japanese!" Kane exclaimed, throwing up his arms in anger.
Daniel Bryan was hot on Kane's heels, toting an equally irritated expression.
"Well you said to put in the address! That's what I did! It's not my fault that you don't understand Japanese!"
"No, no. Don't put this on me, this is your fault" Kane huffed.
"Uhh, no it's not mine. It's yours!" Bryan replied angrily.
"No, it is all your fault! Gosh Daniel, how can you be such an idiot?" Kane questioned, glowering at a very pissed of Bryan.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Daniel said with a downcast glance.
"Apology not accepted…where am I supposed to get my snacks now?" Kane muttered as he stomped out of the canteen.
The rest of the roster simply rolled their eyes at Bryan and Kane's behaviors, considering it was nothing out of the ordinary for the pair to be arguing. Daniel decided to let Kane simmer down a bit and made his way over to our table.
"Hi guys, hi Matthew. Aww, he's so big and so cute. Isn't that right, buddy? You're a cutie, and you know, you don't even have your dad's scowl!" he explained, making funny faces at the baby.
Punk wasn't exactly beaming from Daniel's remark, but Matthew was giggling and smiling, so his father let it slide. It was all going well until Matthew grabbed Daniel's beard. At first, it was funny, and Bryan played along; but he didn't know that Matthew was very into grabbing things these days and for a small baby, he had a pretty good grip.
"Okay, you can let go now" Daniel began, before soon realizing that Matthew was not letting go.
He didn't even have time to look over to Punk and me for help, before Matthew started to pull on his shaggy hair. Unfortunately, the very strong five months old pulled hard enough for Daniel to hit his head on the baby carrier's handle. Daniel began to yell in pain, and the entire canteen erupted in a chorus of laughter, everyone mocking Bryan.
"Ow, ow, ow! Punk, Hannah, a little help please?"
Punk and I decided Bryan had endured enough and helped release his mane from our little guy.
"I am so sorry Daniel, he's not usually so forceful. I mean he's only a little baby, it's actually kind of impressive he has that kind of strength" I half-rambled as I smiled at my son in Punk's arms.
"Was that an apology?" Bryan wondered, arms folded over his chest.
"It's the best you're going to get" my husband retorted with a smirk, bouncing Matthew on his knee.
We decided after the hair-pulling incident that it was probably a good time for us to go back to the locker room or the bus and we said our goodbyes to everyone. Rocky and Edge were still going strong surprisingly, and it seemed that our pitbull had learned how to stay on the Canadian's good side. Every time he would see Edge leave or enter a room, he would immediately follow the tall man and get a small reward. It was entertaining to watch for a bit; until Edge walked into the arena an hour or so later and Rocky charged at him full-force. He then proceeded to chase Edge around the length of the men's locker room.
Edge was screaming his head off, and it was one of the funniest things we had all seen. It wasn't everyday where a six foot plus wrestler for Pete's sake was being chased by a relatively small dog. Edge was still being chased around until Randy was kind enough to throw him a dog treat across the room. Rocky finally was thrown a treat (from an impressive distance, considering Edge had climbed on top of something out of fear) and made his way over to where Punk was sitting with the baby. Rocky then simply laid down to enjoy his treat, leaving the entire room laughing at his antics.
"I knew their 'friendship' wouldn't last long" I reminded my husband, who could only nod through his laughter.
The pay-per-view began a few hours later and Punk started off the show in a three-on-one handicap match against the shield. Fortunate for him, Roman Reigns accidently speared Dean Ambrose, allowing Punk to pick up the win. My Straightedge husband then ran up the ramp fast as hell, not wanting to endure any more from the dangerous trio. We spent the next few days in Texas, for RAW the next night and to tape a Christmas version of Friday Night Smackdown. Both shows involved Punk having matches against the Shield. He claimed on the show that he didn't believe in Christmas, but it was some sort of miracle that he was able to defeat the Shield the night before.
Punk was amazing on RAW despite his loss and was spared a triple-power bomb on Smackdown, which made both of us happy. Next week's RAW was also pre-taped in order to allow everyone to celebrate the holidays, and Punk came out to an energetic crowd, yelling "It's Christmas time!", a play on his signature catchphrase. He was able to secure a win with his team mate's Big E Langston and John Cena, finishing our week in Texas on a high-note.
After a fun-filled week with the roster in Texas, it was time for us to back to my home state of New York. To say that I was excited would be a vast understatement—I was practically bouncing with excitement and joy at the thought of us spending our first Christmas as a new family in my hometown. As much as I loved Chicago, and while that was our home for most of the year—nothing—not even Chicago could compare to Christmas in New York. Why else would it be the setting of numerous romantic comedies or great love songs?
Christmas is a big time for most people, and I was no exception; even though I would consider myself Jewish, I was raised celebrating Catholic holidays because my mother was raised as one. And while Punk didn't practice or even believe in religion, he was always very good and courteous about all of my family's many traditions. I certainly respected him for it too—and I never wanted to do anything that would make him uncomfortable or uneasy. For my family and me, most of the holidays were more about the customs than the religion, and revolved around simply the act of spending time together as a group, more than anything. That didn't mean we weren't having a classic New York Christmas though.
I fully intended on giving my tiny son the quintessential experience—all beginning with taking a family photo with Santa at the mall. And I knew I would have to deal with a cranky guy, I just never expected it would be my husband.
"Babe, can't we just take a regular holiday photo and like photo-shop Santa in the background? I bet Edge or one of the guys would volunteer to wear the belly and the beard for it too" he proposed hopefully.
I whipped my head around quickly so I was facing him and said, "Are you kidding me? Photo-shop Santa? Who the hell does that? That's unholy, even for you" I quipped before dramatically slamming our bedroom door in his face, all while cradling our sleeping son.
I could hear him call out to me on the other side of the door, but I momentarily ignored him. I knew I was making a bigger deal out of the whole photo thing than necessary, but I just wanted to do this one special thing as a family. And I just didn't understand why he couldn't just suck it up for our son.
"Hannah, I'm sorry, okay? I was stupid to even suggest that idea. We can do the photo at the mall—you're right, it would be cute and would make a nice holiday card" he stated apologetically.
After I explained my reasons for wanting the picture, he understood and agreed, both of us wanting our son's first Christmas to be special. We eventually made it to the mall, not without a lot of complaining from Punk though. He basically bitched during the entire (very long and loud) line at the photo station about the lengthy wait and how Christmas had become a "Hallmark Holiday"—meaning that the X-mas themed industries were simply profiting off of the celebration. I did my best to tune him out, knowing that he needed to just rant and I just let it slide, more intent on keeping Matthew awake and unfussy.
"We're next, are you ready baby? Are you ready to meet Santa?" I asked excitedly, balancing him on my hip as I inspected my husband's outfit for any imperfections.
"We just had to go the fancy route, huh?" he questioned, to which I simply nodded and smiled.
"Well, we could have gone as a family of reindeers. Or elves. Be happy that I'm a nice wife and I didn't make you don a pair of animal ears" I retorted as we finally made our way to have our family picture taken.
We got situated and right before the photo was captured, I half-reminded/half-threatened my husband, telling he better smile in the picture or he wouldn't be getting his Christmas present from me. He saw me narrow my eyes and knew I meant business and conceded; we ended up with a great family photo and I couldn't have been happier—Matthew didn't cry at all, and Punk gave into what I wanted, mission accomplished.
For the holidays, we were staying in Long Island with my parents in their newly renovated guest room, turning my old bedroom into a room for Matthew to stay in. After spending some very much needed time with my family, Punk and I were finally able to get our son's first X-mas presents, and we picked up a few things for Rocky and the whole family too.
The next day involved us stringing lighting all around the front of my parent's porch and by 'us'—I mean Punk, my father and my sister's fiancé. I was in charge of overseeing everything while my mother and sister watched Matthew inside.
"A little higher James, no lower. No higher. No, I think your side needs to be straighter Punk" I dictated from the base of the ladder.
"I don't think I can get any straighter than Straightedge" my husband said, earning a scoff and a playful smack on his leg (considering I was a bit far from his face).
"It's not nice to hit someone on a ladder honey" he sweetly reminded me as he listened to my earlier advice and straightened out his side.
"Yeah well it isn't good to mock your wife either" I replied smugly.
"She has a point there, kid" my father stated as he finished with his set of lights.
"Not helping, Mike" Punk replied with a chuckle.
Finally, we managed to finish decorating the outside of the house and it looked absolutely perfect, which meant only one thing—we all needed a picture in front of it. After a huge group shot, we got one just the three of us—Punk, the baby and me, and I knew it was going to accompany the Santa pic on our holiday card.
Post-family dinner, Punk and I decided to take Matthew on a small tour of my old neighborhood, all of the houses lit and decorated.
"Gosh, it really is beautiful here during this time of year. I mean I like coming back to New York any time, but it's something about this city during the holidays that makes it all that much more special. Like an even more tangible feeling that anything's possible" I exclaimed dreamily, before realizing I was rambling.
"I'm really glad we came back here to spend time with your folks. I know how happy it makes you and Matthew and your whole family too. And it makes me feel so damn…I don't know…merry—I guess for a lack of a better term—to see you this excited" he stated as he momentarily stopped pushing Matthew's carriage.
"Thanks babe, I know it's a bit annoying and all…" I trailed off before I was interrupted by a kiss.
"It's not too much at all. I was annoying and I'm sorry I was being a Scrooge" he said kindly, and I knew that he meant it.
"Do you wanna cut this walk short, considering he's already asleep and we have yet to see if the new guest room is sound proof or not?" I suggested with a mischievous smirk.
We made our way back to my parents' house and after putting the baby down for the night, we tested the sound quality of the guest room—turns out that it was in fact sound proof.
The next few days were spent trimming the tree in my family living room and spending loads of quality time relaxing with my parents and sister. We even watched classic Christmas movies—even though Punk and I both weren't the biggest fans of them—but we were all together as a family, so it was worth it. With Matthew cradled against my chest and Punk's arms around me, I could more than be in the Christmas spirit and watch the beloved holiday movies with my parents and sister.
That night after dinner and playing home videos from my childhood Christmases, and I was cuddled by the fireplace with my husband. Everyone else had gone to sleep already, my parents volunteering to put their grandson to bed. And while Punk and I were tired, we both just wanted to savor the few rare moments alone we had.
"Well this is cozy, isn't it? It seems we only have a thing for fireplaces and being all cuddly during Christmas" I wondered, moving slightly so I was looking up at my husband's face.
I felt his chest shudder against my back in a chuckle and I knew he agreed.
"It was how we spent our first one together as a married couple."
I turned around completely, still remaining in his embrace.
"You remember that? It was one hell of a good time, wasn't it?" I inquired, smiling at the memory.
"Of course I do…it wasn't exactly that long ago honey. Just a few years" he reminded me with a laugh.
I nodded in concession, "Yeah, so much has happened since then. It's crazy, really. Not bad-crazy, it's good crazy…" I rambled until he shut me up the only way he knew how.
"As much as I love it when you ramble—it's endearing and cute—I like it so much more when your mouth is busy against mine" he told me cheekily.
"What a sweet sentiment" I dead-panned, pecking him quickly.
"That's my specialty. You know what else I remember about our first Christmas? Besides your rambling—you did it then too" he asked me, causing me to smack him playfully on the arm.
"What's that babe?" I wondered with a raised brow.
"Kicking your butt in our snowball fight, the one we had on the front lawn. Now, that was a good time."
It may have been close to midnight on Christmas Eve, marking the official start of the holiday; however Punk and I were currently engaged in a far more important event. It was our first Christmas together considering we had gotten married earlier that year. It wasn't our first time spending the holiday as a couple, however he had to work most of the time during the holiday and I usually spent this time with my family at my childhood home. We decided that now that we were married, it was time for us to make traditions and memories of own. Starting with what the snowball fight we were presently having.
"Come on babe, it's probably Christmas by now and we've been at this for a while. Can we call a truce and go inside and get warm?" I wondered, peering behind a tree I was currently using for protection.
"Truce? There are no truces in snowball fights—this is a war babe, and there is only going to be one winner. If you want to forfeit and declare me the winner, we can go get toasty by the fire" he suggested, and I knew that there was a smirk engraved into his expression.
Punk and I were different in a lot of ways; however one of our common traits was our competitive natures. And while I was freezing and I knew he probably was too, I also knew there was no way he would just 'give up'. He thought that considering his overall athleticism and agile-ness, he would be able to have a clear victory. What he soon realized was that I had had my fair share of snow-fights and he wasn't going to win so easily.
"Han, this can all end if you just come out from wherever you're hiding and surrender" he all but gloated.
From my hiding place, I could see that he was currently leaning against the hood of our car in the driveway with a pile of snowballs a foot high. I knew that there was almost no way I would be able to run to the house unscathed or make enough snowballs to win cleanly. I would need another strategy—my husband may have been the brawn, but I had the brains.
"Punk, do you promise to go easy on me if I surrender? I don't want to step in front of a snow firing squad or anything" I conveyed, making sure to sound more defeated than I really was.
"I promise honey, cross my heart and hope to die."
I didn't buy that for two seconds and just as my chances at victory looked bleak, I was struck by inspiration. One of the lids for the garbage pails was on the ground to my right, and I decided to pile snow on the top. Rather than try to out-throw him, I decided I was going to simply just throw a huge amount of snow at him. Two could play hardball.
"Babe?" I asked, testing the waters.
"I'm ready for your surrender if you are honey and I promise I'll be nice. Just come out and this can all be over."
I circled to the other side of the tree, tray of snow in my hands. From this position, Punk's back was to me and I knew I had the advantage and I ran towards him. I unceremoniously dumped the snow pile down his back, causing him to jump out of his skin.
"Did you really think I was going to quit? Please babe, you should know me better than that" I gloated, smirking at his shocked expression.
I wasn't quite sure if it was the freezing ice that had made its way down his coat, or just the surprise of me outsmarting him, but his face was hysterical.
"Oh you're so going to get it now" he threatened, shaking the white powder off his coat and body.
I feigned worry, wanting to further annoy him.
"Oh I'm just shaking in my boots" I mocked, chuckling at my misfortune-stricken husband.
Before I could make another witty comment, he tackled me across the lawn, causing us to both land upon the snow-covered grass. We battled for dominance, however he did happen to have the upper-hand when it came to wrestling—both size and skill wise.
"There's no one here to count the pin babe. So you're not going to win that way" I stated, shooting him a mischievous grin, a bold move considering I was stuck underneath him.
"I don't need a ref or a bell to declare me the winner Han. I so won" he gloated, smiling pride fully.
And it was his pride that was ultimately his downfall, because I used that moment to flip us, so he was pinned on the bottom.
"Who's on top now?" I inquired, winking at him.
"Doesn't matter, I won via tackle."
I couldn't help but chuckle at my husband's inability to admit defeat.
"But I'm on top" I half-pouted, hoping he would be a sucker and fall for the puppy dog act.
"You can stay there if you want" Punk declared with a wink.
I scoffed, feigning disgust and un-straddled his waist. I began to make my way to the house with the intention of warming up when I was pulled back gently.
"Gosh, you're just as stubborn as I am. Fine, we both won, happy?" he conceded, but it wasn't enough.
I acted like I was pondering his words for a minute before launching myself into his arms, accidently causing him to fall backward into the snow. We landed with a soft thud and matching chuckles.
"It's funny how we keep finding ourselves in this precarious position" Punk stated with a smug smile.
I laughed once more before I climbed off him and helped my husband to his feet.
"I know something we can both agree on. Hot chocolate by the fire" he suggested, pulling me in for a hug.
"Sounds good to me babe. And you know what they say about warming up by a fire, right?"
"No, what do they say?" he asked, a dirty look in his emerald eyes.
"It's faster when you take all your clothes off" I announced, before racing him back to the house so we could warm up together.
"Even though we're not post-snow fight and cuddling naked by the fire, this is nice too" I told him, smiling fondly at the memory.
Punk chuckled and nodded his head in agreement.
"Yeah it is. Let's get to bed; we have a big day ahead of us soon."
We spent most of the next day at my parents' house for their annual pre-Christmas Eve party with all of our other family and close friends and it was some people's first times meeting Matthew. He was excellent the entire party, making it easier for us. Punk and I decided that we should spend tonight at our own house, wanting to have our first holiday as a family back in our apartment. After the holiday party, we made our way to the Brooklyn apartment and put the baby to bed. We had a long night ahead of us—wrapping all of our son's first X-mas presents. Tomorrow was going to be such a special day and we both couldn't wait to celebrate Christmas with our baby.
Punk's POV
Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house, not a creature was stirring except for Matthew Brooks of course. Hannah and I had been trying to get him to go down for bed for hours, to no avail. We had tried everything and while he thankfully wasn't screaming his head off now, he just would not fall asleep. Anytime I tried to put him in his crib, he would immediately start to bawl, prompting me to continue to walk up and down the length of the room with him. At least I was the only one awake with him at this ungodly hour; I had sent my wife to bed over an hour ago. She looked beyond exhausted and I figured at least one of us should get some sleep, especially the night before Christmas. The clock had struck twelve over an hour ago, signaling that it was Christmas Eve, and apparently Matthew didn't want to mess a second of it. We were back in New York for the holidays, because there really wasn't anything like Christmas in the city—it was breathtaking every year. And it was Matthew's first Christmas, making it even more special.
We were staying at the Brooklyn apartment for a little while, and the plan was to head over to Hannah's parents' house to celebrate later in the day and I really wanted to show up without massive bags under my eyes, induced by my son.
"Come on Matthew, I've been walking with you for over two hours buddy, cut your Daddy a break? Please" I asked the awake child in my arms, hoping I could will him to sleep.
He said nothing back obviously, but stared back at me with a look that told me I better get back to walking. I had a feeling this was going to go on for a while, so I figured it would help to pass time if I told him a story.
"Last year about this time, your Mommy and I were home, waiting for Christmas, just like you are now. I found her staying up late in the living room of the Chicago house, and she was upset. I didn't know why at the time, but I think it may have to do with the fact that she had you in her tummy, buddy."
I smiled at the memory and shifted him so he was more comfortable. Matthew as wrapped in a plush blanket, his hand in his mouth, content as could be. I chuckled softly and continued with the story.
"You see, I wasn't in the room when she was upset. I just found her that way."
I had just come downstairs for a quick drink when I heard my wife bawling on the couch. I was confused as to why she was upset, and determined to find out the cause.
"Babe, what happened? Are you and the baby okay?"
She blinked back tears and nodded her head.
"I'm fine, we're fine. Sorry honey."
I gave her a look, knowing damn well she wasn't fine.
"Bullshit, just tell me why you're upset. I'll fix it the best I can."
She sniffled for a few more moments and moved slightly out of my embrace to mute the television that I didn't even know was playing in the background.
"I was just watching a stupid Christmas movie, and that plus all the hormones from the baby are making me crazy. I mean I cried at Wheel of Fortune the other night" she said with a sad chuckle.
I smiled and moved so I could wipe the tear tracks from her beautiful face.
"Are you sure that's all it is?"
"It's just a silly movie on Lifetime—'A Dad for Christmas' I think. This young guy goes to the hospital to see his newborn son, and he finds out that the mother of the baby has already made arrangements for the baby to be adopted."
"You know that's not going to happen with our baby, right?" I asked her with a playful expression, placing a hand on her small growing bump.
She nodded and laughed. "Of course not babe, but it's just so sad that he has to practically steal the baby from the girl in order to be his father. This kid has no one—no parents and he has to struggle all on his own. I know it's stupid and all, but I don't want our baby to have to go through that."
"I will not let our kid steal a baby from a hospital and struggle to raise it, okay? Even if it's his or her own kid—also our kids are not having children while they're teenagers."
She laughed softly and nodded.
"I just don't want our baby to ever feel unloved or have to go through any hurt, which is ridiculous I know but—"
"It's not ridiculous at all, it's really sweet actually. You just want to protect our baby, and I want to protect both of you. I promise that we will work as hard as possible to make our family happy and safe, alright? I never want anything bad to happen to either of you" I told her, pulling her into my arms and draping one across her middle.
"You want to know why our baby will never be unhappy or suffer like the people in the movie?"
Hannah looked up at me with her sad brown eyes, and it broke my heart to see her that upset.
"Because our kid's parents want them so badly, and we will always keep them safe. So don't worry babe, I promise it will all work out."
I could feel her body relax in my arms, and I let out a breath of relief at the contact.
"How do you always know exactly what to say?" she wondered with a smile, clearly perking up a little bit.
"Because I love you and I don't want you to freak out over a silly movie. Now let's try to get some rest, before Santa gets here" I teased her, both of us snuggling deeper into the couch and one another.
"Merry Christmas babe" was the last thing I heard from her before I was fast asleep.
I smiled at the memory, as I finished telling it to Matthew. He was finally asleep and I figured it would be good to put him in his crib. I was barely out of the room when I heard him wailing again. I let out a small sigh and made my way back over to him, the baby in my arms within seconds.
"What's the matter baby? Did you have a bad dream buddy?"
I began rocking him gently, wanting to calm him down.
"You know if you don't go to sleep tonight, Santa won't be able to bring you all your presents. And you're the best baby in the world so there will be a lot of gifts under the tree tomorrow."
"Well if you're not going to go back to sleep, I guess I'm going to keep on talking then. Remember that movie I told you your mother was watching last year when she was pregnant with you? Well the guy in the movie became a dad for Christmas and even though we knew we were going to have you last year, I wasn't a real dad then. I didn't know what it felt like to hold you in my arms, to see and kiss your cute little face—I didn't know what it meant to love someone so much. I guess this year, I'm a dad for Christmas too. Gosh, I swear your mother has turned me into a mushball" I finished with a smile and a soft chuckle.
By some miracle, that last little "speech" had put him to sleep and I took this as my cue to lay him down in his crib before he woke up screaming for me to walk the length of the nursery until I wore holes into the carpet. I gingerly placed his sleeping form in the wooden bed and grinned softly at his body before quietly leaving the room. I managed to make it to the master bedroom without waking him up, and I sent a silent thank-you to the universe as I climbed into bed, where my wife was still fast asleep. We managed to get a few hours before we were woken up at the crack of dawn, our son needing to be changed and fed.
We figured that we might as well get Christmas started early, and while I played with Rocky and Matthew, Hannah was in the kitchen, working on the cookies. My wife was quite the avid baker and our kitchen counters were covered in various baking supplies. I decided to pay her a little visit and see what she was up to. I scooped up Matthew from his place by Rocky on the floor and walked the short distance to the kitchen.
"How are the cookies going honey?"
She glanced up from the large mixing bowl and gave me a smile.
"Good, I'm making a few holiday themed ones for when we go to my parents' house, and then a few for Santa tonight and I figured I should make some for the holiday party."
We were having our annual WWE holiday party in a few days and almost the entire roster was going to be there. My wife seemed to have taken on slightly more than she could handle by herself, so I decided to give her a hand.
"How about I help you with some of this and then we hang out with the baby before we go over to see your family?" I suggested with a grin.
She nodded her head and continued to mix her dough while I placed Matthew in his high chair, giving him a good view of his parents.
"A little tag team action never hurt anyone, right?" she quipped as she handed me an apron and a bowl of chocolate chip goodness to mix.
"I beg to differ" I replied with a laugh, and together we were able to get all the baked goods done and set away.
That night we headed over to Hannah's parents' house and had Christmas Eve dinner with her family, and it was times like these when I really wished that I had a family as well. Even though her family welcomed me with open arms, I couldn't help but feel saddened by the fact that I couldn't give Matthew more family. Now that I was a father, I didn't long for a real family the way I had when I was growing up alone—but now that I had a son and saw how important being present in my child's life was, I was wishing that he had more grandparents and aunts and uncles to spoil and love him. Hannah must have noticed me brooding, and discretely grabbed my hand under the dinner table and gave me a small reassuring smile.
The rest of the meal went off without a hitch and it was soon time for dessert. Between my wife, sister-in-law and their mother, there was easily an entire table full of sweets, and damn was I happy about it.
"I just wanted to let everyone know that Punk helped with the cookies—so if they're delicious that was the batch I made. If they aren't tasty, he made them" my wife announced to the room, earning chuckles all around.
I found my way across the room to her and raised a brow in her direction.
"You couldn't resist, huh?" I asked with a playful expression.
She shrugged her shoulders and chuckled.
"If I've learned anything from you, it's to always make a witty comment if given the opportunity."
"Well I guess I've taught you well over the years—you're still not at pipe-bomb dropping level, but you'll get there" I stated with a laugh, placing a kiss on her temple.
Matthew was passed around the entire night between his two grandparents, both of them filled with joy at spending time with him. At the end of the night, we were saying our goodbyes with the promise of coming over for a low-key Christmas breakfast in the morning.
"Hannah, Punk. Before you guys go, we have a small early present for Matthew" Rose stated, disappearing momentarily.
"Mom, Dad, you guys really didn't have to" Hannah tried, only to be brushed off by her father.
"Don't worry we have a load more presents for him to open tomorrow, this is just something small for tonight."
Rose handed me the gift considering my wife's arms were occupied by a sleeping Matthew; I carefully untied the ribbon on the box and tore off the wrapping paper, and I smiled at the gift.
I took the small silver trinket out of the box, holding up so Hannah could see it. Her parents had gotten us a silver cradle ornament engraved with Matthew's full name and birth facts on it. We thanked her parents for their sentimental gift and I couldn't wait to hang it on our tree when we got home.
We got Matthew down for bed, placed all the gifts for him under the tree and proceeded to pass out for a few hours. A few hours later, I felt someone jump on the bed, and considering our son couldn't walk, let alone jump, I knew it had to be my wife.
"Wake up honey, it's Christmas" she chirped happily.
I lazily opened my eyes and was met with her dark orbs, filled with eagerness.
"Well, why don't we go and get our baby, then?" I suggested, letting her take my hand and lead me to the nursery.
We were all settled in the living room, our five month old rivaling his mother for most excited for opening presents. We decided that it was only fair that Matthew got to open some of his first; naturally my wife decided to make this a photo-op and took a dozen pictures. Little Matthew was outfitted in a pair of onesie pajamas, emblazoned with a reindeer on them, and a tiny red and white stripped knit hat—looking every bit festive.
He was more interested in the wrapping paper and ribbon and the tape (oh gosh all the tape) than the actual gifts, but between Hannah and I, we helped him unwrap all of his presents.
He received a ton of books, clothes and toys from all of our family and friends, but one of his favorite presents was a kid sized WWE championship belt from all of the guys. I couldn't help but chuckle as I sent out a mass-text of his cute face, little hands clutching the title. It was adorable, and I had a feeling my wife was going to use that picture as his first birthday invite.
Some of his other memorable gifts included onesies with the likeness of the Misfits, Ramones, Beatles, The Smiths and even a Morrissey one. My wife and I may be big nerds when it came to music, but all I knew was that our kid was going be well-dressed and well-versed in the best bands.
Hannah and I finally exchanged presents and the first one I opened from her was actually one for Matthew and me. She had gotten him an official 'Best Kid in the World' onesie and shirt (for when he got a little bigger) so he could match with me. Hannah also gave me the entire box set for the TV show 'The Walking Dead', as well as a monopoly game of the show for the tour bus. I chuckled at her gifts and thanked her before handing my wife her gifts to open.
We had decided not to go overboard on getting each other gifts, and instead focus on spoiling our son on his first holiday. There was a strict two gift maximum, and it seemed that we both held up our ends of the bargain. What did we really need when we had such a great life together anyway?
She opened the first present to reveal a huge photo album chronicling our first year as a family. Hannah flipped through the pages, the joy evident on her face at seeing all of our memories unfold before her eyes. When she got to the last page, she saw the inscription and read it out loud with a wide smile.
"To my beautiful wife and son, thank you both for being the best gifts I could ever receive. Merry Christmas, I love you. Love Punk/Daddy" she read, dropping the book to her lap so she could thank me with a kiss.
"I love it, thanks so much honey."
I handed her the last present under the tree and watched as her face lit up with shock. Underneath the small ribbon covered package was a black jewelry box containing a pair of rose gold arrow shaped diamond earrings.
"You didn't" she said, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I tried to act like I was engrossed with bouncing Matthew on my knee, before she placed a hand on my arm, causing me to look up at her.
"Babe, you really didn't have to get these for me. I thought we agreed to not go overboard this year?"
"Yeah well I never really agreed to that. And plus, I wanted you to have a reminder of how you captured my heart so long ago. You two are the best things to ever happen to me" I stated, glancing up from our son and back to my wife.
Hannah broke out into a grin and threw her arms around our son and me.
"Thank you, I love them. I'm glad you broke our whole not going crazy on the presents deal, because I may have gotten you something else" she announced, pulling a small gift from behind her back.
I unwrapped the present to reveal a set of season tickets to the Chicago Cub baseball games, and to say that I was surprised was a huge understatement.
"Han, you can't be serious. This may have cost a fortune" I exclaimed.
She shook her head at me and flashed me a grin.
"They really weren't actually, and if you look at the dates, they can't be used for a few years. I figured that we could all go when Matthew was a little older so he could watch the games too. And because they are for the whole family, it totally counts" she explained cutely, and I couldn't help but kiss my wife for her generosity.
After spending a few more hours at home, we headed over for a lazy Christmas morning with Hannah's parents and sister. Matthew received even more presents from his grandparents and aunt, and it was clear as day that he was one loved child.
"Hey Rose, are there any more of our cookies from last night?" I wondered, thinking they would make a great companion to my coffee.
"There are some on the counter in a container. They were really good Punk" she complimented, and considering she was nothing short of a pro at cooking, I appreciated her comment.
"I think you meant to include me in that, Mom" Hannah stated, feigning hurt.
"We all know you have a knack for making Christmas cookies, but I thought we should let Punk have some of the credit this year."
"Your cookies last year were amazing though—it had to be the cutest way to tell us you guys were going to have a baby" Mike said with a smile.
Only my wife would think to make baby themed cookies—all rattles and onesies to announce that we were expecting, for everyone to have after Christmas dinner. We spent the rest of the day lounging around the house and it had to be the best Christmas ever, and Matthew was wiped out from all of the attention.
"Punk, Hannah. We don't mind watching our grandson for the night if you guys want to spend the rest of the night together. It's not exactly like we won't have everything he needs" Rose suggested, gesturing to the huge pile of presents and baby supplies we had received for our son.
"Are you guys sure?" I wondered, my wife nodding beside me.
"Yes of course, we love taking care of him. Now go and enjoy the rest of your evening" Mike replied, happily picking his grandson out of his carrier.
We didn't need to be told twice and after wishing our baby a Merry Christmas, we were on our way to the Brooklyn apartment.
"Babe, I know I said that we were all done with presents for the day, but I have one more thing for you" she told me with a smirk.
I looked back at her with a bemused expression, "Oh? And what did you get me?"
"You're just going to have to wait and see, go get in bed, I'll be right there."
I had a strong inkling on what the present was, and damn was I gonna be in for a treat.
My wife walked out of her closet dressed in a festive outfit—well if you could even call it an outfit. She was wearing a crimson colored bow-shaped bra and a very small pair of bottoms.
"Do you not know how hard it is to find Christmas lingerie that isn't completely trashy" she divulged, earning a laugh from me.
"I bet. You look fantastic and not the least bit trashy" I responded from my place on the bed.
"As easy as it would be to make a bunch of holiday-themed sex jokes, let's just skip that part and get to the opening of your gift" she suggested, making her way over to me.
Her eyes were dark with lust and I knew that my expression had to be mirroring hers.
"You know something? I think I really like Christmas now" I told her, a smirk etched into my face.
She let out the laugh that I so dearly loved and practically sat in my lap.
"I thought you might say that. Now be good and unwrap you present" she directed, to which I eagerly obliged.
I only had one thought as I slipped the bow top off my wife, Merry Christmas to all and to all a very good night.