Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Lily, Madison, and Dexter.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Past Mpreg, Storyline Fanfic, Self-Harm, etc.

Hunter frowned. "What the hell are you doing here, Mark?"

"You have two working eyes. Look and see for yourself." Mark bit back. Hunter flinched, not having expected such a painfully sharp retort from his husband. But he opened the folder and looked over the paperwork - sure enough, it was paperwork for temporary custody of their daughters during the divorce proceedings.

Hunter pushed the papers away, the look on his face a mixture of pain and disbelief. What the hell? Why was Mark suddenly interested in taking custody of their kids now? "Couldn't think of a better time to shoot the bullet through my chest, huh? Had to wait until I was already down and out?"

Mark shrugged, "The judge isn't too terribly convinced of your parenting skills, considering that you're more concerned with killing yourself than caring for our kids."

The corner of Hunter's mouth twitched. "You know that this isn't like that, and how dare you insinuate otherwise." He sucked in a deep breath, "I know that I've been a little off lately, but I've been taking care of myself and my children. I've been doing the best that I can, and that is all that anyone can do."

"Yes, well..." Mark rolled his eyes heavenward, "The judge found out about the little incident at the gym, and now he's not so sure about how much you care for our kids."

Hunter looked over the contents of the folder once more. As he did so, he couldn't help but think of Randy. Randy was in a similar situation, but was flailing under the threat of losing his child in a very different way. There was nothing he could do to help the one man that had been there for him through everything, just like there was nothing he could do to contest the court order that Mark had presented him. This entire situation left him feeling painfully vulnerable.

It felt like he was rolling over and showing his belly to a ravenous, rabies-infested beast. But he really had no choice, unless he wanted to give Mark more ammo to use against him in court. So he closed the folder and slid it back across the table. Mark grabbed it and tucked it back into the briefcase, before setting it on the floor beside the bed. Hunter watched uneasily as the big man then made his way over to take a seat across from the bed.

"So," he crossed his legs, leaning back in the chair. "How are you feeling, Hunter?"

If possible, Hunter's frown became impossibly deeper. "The fuck does that matter to you, asshole?"

Mark actually managed to look hurt. "And why shouldn't it matter to me, love? You are still my husband, after all. And you still gave me two beautiful children." Mark reasoned with an easy shrug. "Don't worry - it was just a little question. No reason to have a conniption."

"Well, excuse me for being more than a little skeptical - especially considering that you never showed any concern for my well-being until now." Hunter hissed. "In fact, if I didn't know any better, I would think that you've wanted this for a long time."

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Wanted you to get hurt?"

And if Mark wanted to hurt him, well, two could play at that game. "Do you know how much it hurt, to have you dismiss me the way that you did? My body image issues were eating away at me and all you could do was tell me that I should stop 'obsessing over it'."

Mark's eye twitched. "If you had been paying attention to anything that I said, you would know that I wasn't worried about my match at WrestleMania because I wanted to lose. I wanted to lose so that I could spend more time with you and the kids and fix our family. And all you heard was me telling you not to obsess over your body?"

Wait a minute - Mark had wanted to lose at WrestleMania? Mark wanted to lose so that he could fix their family? Until that incident at the airport, he hadn't thought that there was anything amiss between them. But maybe that was what Mark was trying to tell him. Maybe there was a lot that he was missing because he was too absorbed in his own problems, and others were just getting tired of dealing with his tunnel-vision.

Hunter felt his heart begin to stutter in his chest. Mark had wanted to try and fix everything with their relationship, and Hunter had thought that he was pushing his family away. It made him sick to his stomach to think that all of this could be avoided if he'd just listened a little harder, opened his eyes a little wider... and now, there was an envelope on his table filled with paperwork that had been filed for a perfectly legit reason.

Hunter knew that he needed help. He was exercising himself into an early grave (especially if the blood scare was anything to go by), and he was doing it because something was inherently wrong with the way he viewed his relationship with his husband, his kids, and his family. He wanted to be perfect for them, but for some reason, perfect in his mind was a fleeting image that was never quite obtainable. One minute it was there, the next it was gone.

"After WrestleMania, the kids and I are going far, far away. If you make this easy and just go and sign the divorce papers, then this is the last we'll ever have to see each other. But if you don't..." he trailed off.

Hunter sighed. He recognized defeat when he saw it. He just hoped the other man wouldn't rub it in. "If I don't?"

"Well, then," Mark smiled sweetly. "I will make your life a living hell."

The next morning, Phil joined the young couple at the breakfast table. He'd woken late and from the looks of things, they'd held off on eating until he'd arrived. He offered them a sheepish smile, before Kofi's wife set a heaping plate of food in front of him. The plate was made up of a breakfast omelette - with eggs, cheese, tomatoes, mushrooms, and sausage - two pieces of buttered toast, and a mixture of fresh fruit. Phil couldn't remember the last time he'd had meat.

"How did you sleep, Phil?" She asked, that same kind, concerned smile gracing her gentle features. Phil found himself smiling right back - Kofi had found a good woman, and he was happy for his friend. "I know that you had a bit of a rough night."

Phil shrugged. Stabbing at the omelette with his fork, he ripped off an end piece and stuffed it into his mouth. "I had a pretty nasty bout of insomnia, but it's nothing I can't handle." He answered, "Hey, Kofi, could you pass me the ketchup?"

His friend passed the Heinz bottle as his wife fixed a breakfast bottle for their son. "Have you had problems with insomnia before?" She asked.

Phil's shoulders tensed, and Kofi immediately braced for the fall-out. "Honey, maybe now isn't the best time to be asking about -,"

But Phil cut him off. "It's fine, really." Dousing the omelette in ketchup, he continued, "It usually comes and goes with stress. But the medicine I've been taking for it isn't safe to take during the pregnancy, so I've just been pushing through."

She nodded, before saying, "Insomnia during pregnancy can cause a lot of unwanted complications, Phil. It can cause everything from longer delivery to high blood pressure, which will leave you bed-bound. And you don't seem like the type to handle being bed-bound well."

Phil remembered when Daniel had been painting their baby's room, just a few days ago. Just being stuck sitting on the floor, unable to help anyone except to stay out of their way, had nearly driven him out of his head. He understood why he couldn't go into the room - the fumes from the paint were just as hazardous to his health as the insomnia pills he was taking - but that didn't make it any easier.

Before he realized it, he'd finished the omelette. It had been delicious, even if the meat wasn't sitting too well with him. He supposed that that came from going without meat for so long, but the sensation would pass soon. Reaching forward, he grabbed the glass of orange juice and took a long sip. High blood pressure had been a concern ever since he had first started fighting with Daniel, and he knew that complications were bound to follow if he couldn't control the rapid downward spiral of their relationship.

"Have you talked to Daniel?" Kofi asked. He was feeling a little less tentative about the subject now that it had already been breached.

Phil nodded nonchalantly. "I talked to him last night." Another shrug, "And then I hung up on him."

Kofi frowned, "Maybe it's time you give him a chance, huh, Phil? He's doing this for his family. He's trying to do the right thing."

"The Authority is going to chew him up and spit him back out, forcing him onto the sidelines for who knows how long while he recovers. It's no longer a matter of if, but when. If it doesn't happen at WrestleMania, it'll happen soon after. He can't win in a numbers game." Phil replied softly.

"Now, because I know you, I know that you mean that from a loving standpoint. You're concerned about him." Kofi said. "But if I were Daniel, that would totally be misinterpreted as a lack of faith in my ability to take care of myself and provide for my family."

Phil scowled, before scooping up a spoonful of berries. "I never questioned his ability to care for our family."

Kofi nodded, "Not outwardly, no. But if you read between the lines, it's definitely there." He restated what Phil had said earlier, adding, "If a wrestler is unable to perform, they don't get paid. If he isn't getting paid, and you're out on maternity leave - unpaid, I might add - you two aren't making any money."

That caused Phil to pause. He hadn't really thought of it like that before. Daniel was so upset about the situation because he felt like Phil was questioning his ability to care for his family. Of course, while that was the exact opposite of what Phil had intended... it made sense. Finishing up his meal, he pushed the plate aside. Kofi's wife took it and rinsed it off, before sticking it in the dishwasher and wiping her hands on her apron.

Deciding that she would change the subject, she said, "Well, now that that is all settled, how about Phil and I take a walk? I've heard that walking is great for insomnia - thirty minutes a day can help you sleep better at night."

Phil nodded, temporarily side-lining all thoughts of Daniel. It felt like forever since he'd last hit the gym... a walk could do him some good. "Fine by me." He could worry about his lover later.

It was one thing to do it once, but to find himself sitting next to the Queen of Crazy herself, AJ Lee, twice in one week? When was the lightening going to strike? He explained what had happened the night before - how Phil had told him that he would be returning to an empty home. He'd thought that they would be able to talk things over like two adults, but then Phil had just snapped and Daniel was beyond terrified that he'd lose his fiance and his unborn son.

And then he'd discovered that Triple H had been hospitalized. He wasn't extraordinarily close to the man (hell, if he were to be completely honest, he didn't like him at all), but when Shawn had intimated that he'd been hospitalized because of how hard he'd been pushing himself in the gym... Daniel couldn't believe it. He felt bad for the older man, who was battling his own demons while preparing for what could possibly be the most physically taxing test of his career.

It couldn't be healthy to just jump into the ring so soon after having a baby. That, and Hunter had put on additional weight during the pregnancy, which had done nothing for his overall health. He could remember sitting through one of those seminars with Phil (back when they were still talking) about healthy habits to establish during pregnancy to ensure a healthy delivery and a happy baby. One was that putting on anything over fifty pounds no longer went to the baby, but directly to the mother.

But right when he started to feel bad for Hunter, he remembered what happened in the airport. That little incident at the airport that had fucked everything up for everybody. If that had never happened, there was a reasonable chance that things between him and Phil would be okay right now. There was a reasonable chance that he wouldn't be afraid that he no longer had a home to return to. And he found himself confessing all of this to AJ.

The petite girl was silent for a moment, before asking, "Have you thought about talking to Hunter about it?"

Daniel looked like she had struck him across the face. "Are you crazy?" She flinched, hurriedly averting her gaze. Daniel felt a pang of guilt sting him in the chest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that." She waved him off, but he knew it wasn't really okay. "Why would I want to talk to him about it?"

"You said that this problem with Hunter and Phil has been going on forever, right?" She asked weakly. Daniel nodded. "Well, have you ever thought to ask why they can't stand each other? I mean... to say something like that to someone... you have to really hate them."

Daniel shrugged, "I guess I never really thought of it like that."

AJ continued on, gaining a little more confidence. "It would have to be behind closed doors so that you're not breaking kayfabe, but... Just think about it. Level with him, man-to-man. Be respectful, but forceful. Make sure he knows where you're coming from."

"I don't think he'll want to hear me out." Daniel confessed meekly. "I'm kind on his bad side after the occupy RAW movement..."

"Well, then maybe you just need to find a way to get on his good side." AJ said firmly.

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Yeah? That's a lot easier said than done."

But AJ was already off in her own little world, plotting away at all the different methods they could use to swing the mighty Triple H to their corner. She seemed to have convinced herself that if Daniel could only get Triple H to see reason, then perhaps everything would resolve itself. Daniel, on the other hand, saw a completely different scenario playing out. One where Phil's worst fantasies played out on live television with very, very real consequences...

It was all well and good to try and reason with a normal person under normal circumstances, but this was about as far from that scenario as one could possibly get. Daniel knew that it would only take about five minutes of being in the same room as Hunter for the big man to chew him up, spit him out, and plan his execution on the following week's RAW. Especially after how many times he'd cancelled main event engagements on Hunter because of Phil.

"I have it!" She suddenly exclaimed, causing Daniel to nearly jump out of his skin. "I wouldn't recommend going to him right now. He's probably rather irritable, considering the current circumstances. But when he's released, go to his hotel room and demand to talk -,"

"Demand?" Daniel nearly choked on the word. He didn't think that he was in any position to be demanding anything from Hunter, especially after occupy RAW.

"Respectfully, respectfully." AJ was quick to placate. "Regardless, you need to get in there and talk to him. Get him drunk if need be."

And suddenly, Daniel was wondering why he'd ever thought that it was a good idea to spill his heart out to the craziest Diva since Mickie James was Trish's biggest fan. "I think that this is liable to get me suspended... or worse."

AJ smiled darkly. "And that's why it's just edgy enough to work." She motioned him in closer. "Now, here's the plan -,"

Hunter stared down at the foot of the bed. The chair that Mark had once occupied was now being occupied by none other than Randy Orton. The Viper had not moved from his position in almost forty minutes - he simply continued to stare blankly at the cork board above Hunter's head. His expression was unreadable, and it was almost scary how vacant his eyes were. Hunter wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he was too far away.

"Randy..." he trailed, not sure of what to say. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"Three hours, Hunter." Randy sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. "My little boy died on the table three hours ago."

A/N: Information regarding insomnia during pregnancy was taken from WebMD.