Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Storyline Fanfic, Past Mpreg, etc.

Meanwhile

Things were still rather icy between Phil and Daniel after RAW. The two men sat on the couch in the small living-area of the hotel room, close enough to touch and far enough apart that the Grand Canyon could have fit between them. Daniel didn't dare to try and break the silence that stretched out between them. Phil was staring at his book, eyes rapidly flickering over the grayish pages - a Stephen King novel, rather thick by the looks of it, but the title on the cover eluded him. For the first time, the tension had left his shoulders and he seemed oddly at ease. How could he disturb that?

Things had gone from great to horrific in a matter of hours. They'd gone from making love to barely speaking in less than two days. Phil had become testy and agitated, his entire body aching as his blood pressure rose and the baby became more and more restless. The mood swings had also returned. One moment, he was all smiles. The next, he was ready to slit Daniel's throat. And if Daniel couldn't anticipate the mood swings and the reason for their occurrence, everything derailed into an all-out fight. They'd had more fights in the last few hours than Daniel could remember in his entire relationship.

Several minutes passed in this manner, with the uncomfortable silence between them and their relationship slowly cracking at the seams. It was this that finally caused Daniel to break the silence, offering, "So, I was thinking about hiring a contactor to paint and refurbish the hardwood floor in the nursery..."

Phil slowly lowered the book. A wide-array of emotions played out in his dark, olivine eyes. Daniel reconsidered his plan to break the silence. "I thought that you were going to paint the baby's nursery." Not a question, but a statement. A cold, calculated statement.

"I am! I mean, I will, if that's what you still want me to do." He sighed, realizing that he was making absolutely no sense, and confusing Phil was only liable to piss him off more. "I just... with being on the road and all... and being in the title hunt... I'm not sure that there will be... you know... time."

"You're making excuses. If you don't want to do it, just say it." Phil hissed, his voice dropping yet another octave.

Daniel pinched the bridge of his nose, silently counting backward from ten. It wouldn't do if both of them lost it. "I want to do it."

Phil raised an eyebrow. "Oh? So then, please, enlighten me as to why you would bring it up in the first place?" He bit back.

Another sigh, this one bearing the connotation of a parent dealing with a troublesome child. "I just wanted to talk to you, that's all. To get a decent conversation going between the two of us that didn't end in a screaming match." He turned away, squeezing his eyes closed, "God, I wish I knew why you were so pissed off."

Phil's eye twitched and, all of a sudden, the book slammed down onto the coffee table. "It doesn't take a genius to know."

"I know that me not standing up for you back there pissed you off, but really, Phil, it's been almost two days. I can't sleep on the couch much longer!"

Cold eyes looked him over once, before his plea was met with scathing denial, "Then sleep on the floor."

Before Daniel could reply, Phil was on his feet and storming down the hall to the bedroom. The door slammed, and Daniel slowly resigned himself to yet another cold, miserable night alone on the couch. But then, the door swung open. He opened his mouth, a small glimmer of hope evident in his eyes, before something came flying at his chest. Seconds later, the door slammed closed again. This time, the small sliver of light visible underneath the door vanished, and Daniel knew that Phil had gone to bed. Which brought him to the object Phil had assaulted him with seconds earlier.

A ring. A simple, gold ring. Phil's engagement ring, to be exact. One little incident was all that it took, apparently, to break a promise of eternal love and commitment. To break up their son's parents before he was even born. His hand started to shake as he held that ring up, staring at it in disbelief. Shock settled into his system, taking icy hold of his bones and simultaneously speeding up and slowing down his heart. His mind was running at a mile a minute, trying to comprehend the unthinkable truth. Phil wanted to break up. Phil was leaving him.

He started to cry.

It was around one o' clock in the morning when the storm hit. At first, Daniel wasn't even bothered by it. Phil had often commented on how heavy a sleeper he was - Daniel believed that his exact words were "if the bed were smoldering, you'd still be knocked out cold" - and that morning was no exception. It wasn't until a clap of thunder, which was so close that it seemed to be in the room with him at that very moment, roared overhead, that he awoke with a start. A low, keening sound could be heard from the bedroom, swallowed almost instantaneously by the enormity of the thunderclap. Phil.

Phil would never admit that he was afraid of thunderstorms. Someone of his age, in his line of work, shouldn't have such a petty, inconsequential fear. After all, it wasn't as if the thunder could actually harm him in any way. Daniel was certain that the fear must have deeper roots, but so far, Phil had never confided in him the exact cause of his distress. That didn't matter. What mattered now was the fact that Phil was alone and afraid, and Daniel could not simply sit back and ignore this knowledge. Regardless of whether Phil wanted him or not... now, he needed him.

Throwing the blankets off of his makeshift bed, he stumbled to his feet and rushed as fast as possible to the bedroom. His legs were shaky as he sprinted, his vision blurry as the final vestiges of sleep left his being. He didn't even bother to knock on the door. Torrential downpour and thunder combined, you probably wouldn't have been able to hear much of anything anyhow. Rushing inside, he climbed on at the foot of the bed and laid down behind Phil, quickly pulling the cocoon of blankets and pillows into his arms and tucking him securely, safely in his warm embrace.

"Shh..." he stroked the slightly damp raven locks, wondering when Phil had taken the time to jump into the shower. "It's okay. I'm here now... I'm here... and I'm not going anywhere." The soft assurances were working wonders to soothe the trembling body in his arms.

"D-Daniel?" He hated the way Phil's voice trembled, perhaps with fear, perhaps with something else entirely.

"Yeah, baby, it's me. It's me." He rubbed Phil's arms, trying to work some heat back into his frigid skin.

"I thought that..." here, Phil looked down. Thunder cackled again and his entire body shook. Daniel only drew him closer, stroking and kissing and caressing every inch of skin that he could reach, "I t-thought that you h-had left."

Daniel couldn't deny the fact that the idea had crossed his mind, but that was another matter to bring up on another day. Right now, the priority concern was Phil. "How could I leave my favorite fiancé, especially when he needs me most?"

Phil smiled - it was small, but it was still there. "I'm your only fiancé."

Daniel smiled in return, realizing that, with a small flicker of hope forming in his chest, something was returning to them. "That's what you think."

Phil smacked him on the arm and Daniel drew him into a kiss, cupping his cheek in one hand, thumb soothing away the tears that trickled from his eyes. Phil, a tad surprised, did not pull away as Daniel had expected him too. Instead, he'd pressed back, albeit tentatively. When they drew away for air, both of their smiles had grown just that much bigger. And then, Daniel pulled away. Reaching into the bedside table, he pulled out his iPod and ear buds. Selecting Goodnight My Angel by Billy Joel from the song selection, he pressed play and popped the buds into Phil's ears. It wasn't long before he was dozing off into his dreamland.

Daniel's smile fell then, and he reasoned that he best head back out to the couch before Phil fully woke-up and became aware of what exactly had transpired. But the moment he tried to pull away, Phil's arms tightened around his middle and he keened. "Please... d-don't leave me."

Daniel stroked his hair softly, relaxing onto the bed. There was no going back now. "Didn't I promise that I wasn't going anywhere?" And then, they fell asleep together.

The following morning, Hunter had a packed schedule. He had a meeting with PR from eight to ten, but it was bound to run until at least eleven-thirty, considering that they were planning an advertisement campaign that would run off of their usual networks. Then, he had a scheduled interview slot of twelve to one, where he intended to head down to NXT to scout new talent. He already had an eye on newcomer, Paige, who was taking the Divas apart one by one. And then there was Rusev, the human puppet, controlled by the ever manipulative and equally beautiful Lana. They'd soon be joining the main roster if he had any say in it.

All this, combined with a meeting with Creative, the special-effects crew, and much more, meant that he literally had no time to deal with screaming children. Which is precisely why, on that very morning, Lily decided to pitch the biggest fit she'd ever had. "I want Daddy!"

Hunter rolled his eyes up to the sky, fingers clenching painfully tight around the outfit he had in his hand. "Daddy isn't here right now, love. But you'll see him tonight. Right now, you need to get dressed." Lily was crying, now. Fat, bubble tears rolled lazily down her chubby red cheeks. "It's even your favorite outfit."

Lily yanked it out of his hand, threw it down onto the floor, and started jumping up and down on it. "I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!"

"Lily, sweetheart, doll," Hunter bent to her level, holding her shoulders down so she'd stop that incessant jumping. "Normally, I wouldn't really mind. We'd pick out an outfit together. But right now, I'm already running late. So please, for once, can't you just wear the bloody outfit?"

"I want Daddy!" This was followed by such a shrill scream, the people in the room next door probably thought he was trying to kill her.

"I understand that, sweetie. Really, I do. You've only said it about sixteen thousand times." His head felt like it was about to explode. "And like I've been trying to tell you, he isn't here."

At this point, he made the mistake of trying to pick her up, in the hopes of forcibly dressing her - he really needed to get out the door. She started to struggle the second that she was in the air, and landed a surprisingly swift and painful kick to his groin. This was quickly followed by an equally damning blow to his midsection, right where he was recovering from a painful C-section. The pain was so sudden and so severe, he almost dropped her. He managed to make it over to the little cot, which acted as her make-shift bed, before setting her down (it was a little rough, because he couldn't bend very far, but nothing that would hurt her).

She scampered to her feet and took off for the door like a miniature rocket. It was clear that she didn't want to spend any more time in that room with Hunter then she had to. She'd seen quite enough the night before. Breathless, Hunter roared, "Lily-Ana Callaway, you get back here right now!"

She turned back to him, fear, disappointment, and rage evident in her fiery blue eyes. "I hate you! I want Daddy!" And then she took off down the hall.

And just like that, Hunter's heart was broken.