Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Dexter, Lily, and Madison.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Past Mpreg, Storyline Fanfic, etc.
The first thing that Hunter felt upon waking was a painful throbbing at the base of his spine. It would ease marginally when he squeezed the device in his hand - he'd later discover that he'd been connected to a morphine pump.
"It's good to see you awake, Mr. Helmsley-Calloway. You gave us quite a scare there." The nurse, who was currently checking his vitals, smiled fondly.
"What happened?" His voice was hoarse and his throat dry. Swallowing felt like glass shards were embedded in his throat.
Reaching for a Styrofoam cup on the nearby table, she asked, "Would you like some ice chips? You must be awfully thirsty."
He took the proffered cup with little to no resistance. Taking a spoonful of chips, he placed them on his tongue and let them melt, savoring the cool relief to his achy throat. The nurse went back to checking his vitals, seemingly ignoring Hunter's earlier question. Why was he in the hospital? The last thing he remembered was looking down in the shower at the gym and finding his legs soaked in blood. Everything after that melted into a black abyss...
"You have company, if you think you're up for it. The gentleman who brought you here. He's been here the whole time." She paused, tapping her chin as if trying to remember something important. "I think his name was Shawn."
Without any hesitation, "Send him in."
Once she finished her analysis, she did just that. Walking over to the curtain, she drew it aside just enough to wave someone to the other side. A few seconds later, a rather haggard-looking Shawn appeared. His eyes lit up when he realized that the other man was awake, but that look of relief was quickly replaced by one of anger. Hunter reluctantly met his gaze, offering his friend a sheepish grin. Gathering another spoonful of chips, he stuffed them into his mouth.
"I'll leave you to it, then." The nurse nodded, before taking her leave.
As soon as the nurse was out the door, Shawn was on him. "What the hell were you thinking? I told you to stop pushing yourself so hard, and look where it got you."
"What happened?" Hunter asked again, hoping to receive an actual answer this time.
Shawn frowned. He looked Hunter over once, trying to call his bluff. Was it possible that the big man really didn't remember? "You don't remember?" Hunter shook his head. "You pushed yourself too hard at the gym trying to lose the extra baby weight before WrestleMania. You're bleeding internally."
Hunter let out a violent barrage of curses under his breath. "This can't be happening. This can't be happening. I can't afford to be in the hospital this close to the show!" Pain flooded his body, and angrily, he slammed his thumb down on the morphine pump. The medication was released, but it brought him no relief.
"You did this to yourself, Hunter." Shawn mumbled softly. "You alienated everyone that cared about you, you exercised until you caused serious abdominal hemorrhaging - and I can read that look in your eye, Hunter. Just like before, you'll ignore the advice of the doctor and fight anyhow."
But Hunter wasn't listening to him any longer. "There's no way that I'll be able to contest two matches in one night now... that little prick is going to beat me."
Shawn was absolutely right. Hunter fully intended to do everything in his power to ensure that he would be competing on the grandest stage of them all. And if that meant that he needed to lie to the doctor so that he would be medically cleared to compete, so be it. He had worked too hard for too long to just throw it all away because of a minor setback. Just like everything else, soon this too would be a distant memory.
He might no longer have a decent shot at being able to compete for the World Heavyweight Title. While not necessarily okay with this fact, it was one that he was going to have to stomach, regardless. His body was not in prime condition, that much was obvious. And there was more shame in pride than in ignorance. He could admit that he wasn't in any condition to contest two matches in one night, no matter how spread out they were. But he would fight Daniel Bryan.
It wasn't that he had a beef with Daniel, not really. He could respect how hard it had been for Daniel to reach the point he was at now. His blood, sweat, and tears had paved the road to his match against Hunter to earn his place in this World Heavyweight Title match. And he could respect a man that had fought so hard to achieve his dreams. But what he had trouble respecting was Phil - and as long as Daniel stayed with the Punk, there would be issues between them.
"I can't believe that you're still so worried about that damn match. It's disgusting, how much you're obsessing over it." Shawn said darkly. "Do you want Lily and Madison to grow up without a mother? Because that is the direction you're headed. You're going to kill yourself like this."
Hunter narrowed his eyes at the blond. Wasn't he supposed to be his best friend? "That's none of your concern, first of all. Second, I'm not about to kill myself. I know exactly what I'm doing."
But Shawn wasn't buying it. "You know exactly what you're doing?" He laughed wryly. "You're running your body into the ground, that's what you're doing."
"And that's my decision to make." Hunter said stiffly. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this. "It's my body, my life. Not yours."
Shawn let out an exasperated sigh. "I don't even know why I bothered to stay with your sorry ass while you were unconscious. It's not like I actually thought that you would have some amazing revelation upon waking up or anything like that. And clearly I was right."
Hunter jammed his finger down on the morphine pump again, growing increasingly more frustrated as the pain increased and the relief died out. Had he really been so foolish to think that Shawn was his friend? Were friends really supposed to be this way? He was just waiting for Shawn's final jab to the jugular, the final blow that would officially take him out. What all was he holding inside, just waiting to unleash on his so-called 'friend' in a moment of weakness?
"I want you to leave." Hunter said firmly, no longer attempting to meet Shawn's eyes.
"If I leave now, I can honestly tell you that I won't be coming back." Shawn said. He looked off into the distance, his eyes hazed over as he thought of something that he didn't care to share. "This is it for us, Hunter. I can't be your scapegoat any longer. I tried to help you, but you wouldn't listen."
Hunter turned to look out the window. Even if he'd expected it, the pain was still unimaginable. "Do I look like I care?" He shrugged nonchalantly. "Good riddance."
Shawn had nothing to say to that. A painful, tense silence hung in the air between them, before Shawn turned around and walked out. The door to the room slammed closed behind him. Hunter flinched, and while this aggravated the internal wounds in his abdomen, the pain in his chest hurt much worse. He realized then that he'd never really wanted Shawn to walk out that door... and now, there was absolutely no way to fix the damage that he'd caused.
The last place that he expected to find himself was sitting on a bench in an abandoned hallway of a nameless arena with the one and only AJ Lee. He couldn't really claim that he and the Diva were particularly close - their storyline romance was perhaps the most that they'd ever talked to each other, and most of the words they'd exchanged had been less than pleasant - but right now, he was rather thankful for the company.
Daniel had just finished making the final preparations for his match against Triple H at WrestleMania. The ink was dry on the contract, his life signed away, but he couldn't help but feel as if something had been irrevocably broken inside of him. He felt as if he'd just signed away everything that had once been so important to him - including his life with Phil - and for what? A chance at glory that he might never achieve?
He hadn't made contact with Phil, and he was ashamed to admit that the thought had barely crossed his mind. He found himself constantly checking his phone to ensure that he hadn't missed a text message or phone call from Phil, but he simply hadn't felt inclined to make contact with his fiance himself. Did that make him a horrible person? A horrible father-to-be? Because he certainly felt like the worst human being on the planet as he recounted this all to AJ.
"It doesn't make you an awful person, Daniel." But it was certainly questionable to be taking advice from the girl who was 'four quarters short of a dollar', wasn't it? "This is your dream. This is what you've worked for your entire career. If Phil can't see that, well -,"
Here, Daniel cut her off. "But, you see, that's not the problem. I know that he sees that. He sees how much this means to me, and I honestly think that he wants to be happy for me." Daniel sighed. "I think it has more to do with the baby."
"What about the baby? Is everything okay?" She cocked her head to the side, slowly interlacing her fingers and placing her hands upon her lap.
Daniel nodded. "Everything is fine, that I know of. We've been having so many fights lately, I'm sure that I've missed out on so much. I haven't even seen the latest ultrasound, but he told me that it's a little boy."
"Congratulations!" AJ broke out in a wide grin. "Have you thought of any names yet?"
Daniel shrugged. "Not really. Creativity was always Phil's department. But I kind of like the idea of a little junior running around, you know?"
How was it that he'd never realized how easy it was to talk to AJ before? She was a sweet girl, despite being a bit on the unstable side. And she was genuinely interested in what it was that he had to say. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't remember the last time that he and Phil had sat down and had a conversation where both parties were equally invested in one another. Lately, all they'd done was fight.
"Phil is worried about our family, about our future." Daniel said. "And I can understand that. Really, I can. But from my point-of-view, there is no future if I don't settle this mess with the Authority now. Phil doesn't understand that this might be my only chance."
AJ nodded, seemingly taking all of this in. Then, she offered, "But think of how much you'll be sacrificing in order to prove to the world that you're better than the Authority."
"Sacrificing?" Daniel asked, confused.
"There is a lot more at stake here than you might realize, Daniel." She said. "Think about it. Say you do beat Triple H -,"
Daniel cut her off again. "I will beat Triple H."
"Okay, when you beat Triple H, think of the consequences. You'll then head into a triple threat for the World Heavyweight Title." AJ said. "Say you win that match -," here, she cut herself off, correcting her error immediately, "when you win that match, you'll be number one on the Authority's hit list."
As much as he didn't want to admit to it, she was one-hundred percent right. Walking out of both matches the winner meant that he would have a humongous target on his back, one that would only be satisfied by blood. He hadn't expected that this battle would be easy, but he'd at least hoped to be able to walk away from all of this in one piece. Had this been what Phil was worried about? Potential fall-out after all was said and done?
And then, just as sweet and innocent as ever, she asked, "When was the last time that you talked to Phil?" Daniel flushed, embarrassed to admit the truth. AJ sighed, nodding. "Call him tonight, okay? And if he doesn't answer, leave a message. Just... show him that he still matters. It'll go a long way."
And in return, Daniel said something to the young woman that he never thought he would. "Thank you, AJ. I... I think I will."
"Mr. Orton?" The doctor looked at the distraught father, who was staring down at the motionless boy on the hospital bed. They'd sedated him, if only to ease his pain for a little while. But now, she had a diagnosis. "Can I speak to you in the hallway for a moment?"
Randy looked down at the children - his son was out cold; Lily was staring into oblivion, practically catatonic; and Madison was falling asleep, strapped to his chest. "Yes, of course."
He really didn't want to follow her out into the hallway. He didn't want to leave his little boy's side. After all, it wasn't every day that his son drooled blood (thank God), and he didn't want to leave him for a second in case he woke while he was gone. What if he was scared and he was in that unfamiliar room all alone? What could Randy do for him out in the hallway?
Once out in the hallway, the doctor reviewed Dexter's chart one last time. Randy shifted nervously in front of her. What the hell was taking so long? Why couldn't she just come out and tell him why his son was so violently ill? With the rest of his world crashing in around him, that little boy was all that he had left. He didn't know (and didn't hope to find out) what he would do without Dexter in his life.
"After running multiple tests, we've come to the conclusion that your son has a Mallory-Weiss tear. Basically, this is a tear in the esophagus wall caused by excessive coughing or vomiting. Considering your son is on the brink of bronchitis, I would wager that it was caused by excessive coughing." The doctor said.
Randy's eyes widened. Yes, Dexter had been sick lately, but they'd taken him to the doctor and he'd been on antibiotics. How had things gotten this bad? "What does that mean, doctor? How do we fix it?"
She offered him a soft, reassuring smile. "Dexter will need to have minor surgery to repair the tear. After, he should be good as new."
"Surgery?" Randy croaked out. God, he wished that John was here with him right now. He needed him now like never before.
"Mr. Orton, I assure you that this operation is one-hundred percent routine. It has been performed countless times." She placed a hand on his shoulder, attempting to comfort him. "Our pediatric surgeons are the best in the country. Your son will receive the best possible care."
"When will he go in for surgery?" Randy forced out, his voice barely a whisper. He still couldn't believe it - his precious baby boy was about to go under the knife.
"He will be prepped for surgery in two hours." She said. "Go and be with him now. He needs his parent, whether he's conscious or not."
Randy didn't need to be told twice. Heading back into the hospital room, he wasn't surprised to find that everything was exactly the way that he'd left it. Heading over to the chair beside Dexter's bed, he picked up Lily and placed her upon his laugh. She didn't so much as flinch. He wished that he knew what she was looking at, but then again, perhaps it was better that he didn't know. Gently, he stroked her soft blonde hair, before looking at his little boy.
With his other hand, he took Dexter's tiny hand in his own and stroked the soft, baby smooth skin. How had he ended up in this position? He was about to lose his boyfriend, John, and there was nothing he could do to stop the downward spiral that their relationship had taken. And now, there was a possibility that he could lose his little boy. Sure, she said it was routine surgery, but there was always that small sliver of a chance that something could go wrong...
Dexter's eyes fluttered open lazily, and he pulled his oxygen mask away long enough to gurgle, "Mommy? I'm scared..." And then he was coughing again, and Randy quickly replaced the mask, instructing him to breathe slowly and evenly.
"I know baby, I know. But I'm right here, and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, okay?" He smiled, trying to be reassuring. "Everything's gonna be okay, I promise. Just go back to sleep, okay? Go back to sleep." And soon enough, Dexter did.
A/N: All info regarding a Mallory-Weiss tear was taken off of Web MD.