Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Lily, Madison, and Dexter.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Past Mpreg, Storyline Fanfic, etc.
Mark didn't get more than a half hours' worth of sleep that night. Lily was plagued by frequent nightmares that had her violently pitching back and forth in the bed. He bore several marks from when he'd tried to console her, including one particularly nasty scratch down the side of his face. There was an almost identical bloodstain on the pillow. He'd flipped it over so she wouldn't see it when she woke up. It wasn't her fault, and he didn't want to scare her.
Around five o' clock in the morning, he quit his feeble attempt to fall asleep, slid out of bed, and went to make himself some coffee. By the time he'd returned, Lily had made herself comfortable in the center of the bed, effectively making it impossible for Mark to return. So instead, he took a seat at the foot of the bed and turned on the television. A muted rerun of the previous night's news filled the screen, and he focused on it just enough to keep from falling asleep.
About a half-hour later, a tired little girl crawled over to him, before dropping unceremoniously into his lap. "Daddy?" He ran his fingers through her loose blonde curls. "I'm hungry."
"Oh yeah?" She nodded slowly. "What're you hungry for, princess?"
"Waffles!" She declared excitedly. "Waffles and ice cream!"
Under normal circumstances, he would've never let the little girl have so much ice cream in the span of twenty-four hours. But these weren't normal circumstances. "Alright, waffles and ice cream it is."
"Yay!" And with the energy only a small child could possess, she clambered to her feet and began to jump on the bed, laughing maniacally as she did so. "Waffles and ice cream! Waffles and ice cream!" She chanted.
"Hey, hey, hey – no jumping on the bed." She stopped immediately, plopping down on the soft mattress with a thump.
"Sorry Daddy." Lily pouted, suddenly looking every bit as tired as Mark knew she was.
Hating to see the way she absolutely crumbled at what she viewed as a rebuke, Mark scooped her into his arms and pulled her in for a tight bear hug. The little girl hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure, before hugging her father back with all the force she could squeeze out of her tiny little body. He ruffled her hair, placing a kiss on her clammy forehead, before swinging her off the edge of the bed and setting her down on the ground.
"I have a very important mission for you, princess. Think you can handle it?" Mark asked seriously.
Lily's eyes lit up immediately. Her Daddy only entrusted important missions to big girls. "I can do it! I can do it!"
"You know what Maddie's formula looks like, right?" She scrunched up her nose in displeasure. Of course she knew what it looked like - she'd accidentally drunk it once, thinking it was regular milk. "Can you get a bottle of it for me from the fridge?"
She mock saluted him. "You can count on me, Daddy!" And then she ran off to complete her mission.
As soon as she rounded the corner, Mark put the order in with room service. He heard the door of the mini-fridge open with a low whine, followed by the tell-tale clatter of bottles being knocked together as she searched for the formula. He never thought he'd be doing it on his own, raising his two girls. When Hunter had said he wanted to hang up his boots, he'd thought that he'd meant to walk into a life of stability. No more close calls. No more unnecessary risks.
And then came Daniel Bryan. Daniel Bryan, who got under his husband's skin in a way that Mark had previously thought impossible. Under normal circumstances, Hunter had a vast appreciation for underdogs – those who poured their all into the company who weren't necessarily cut from the same mold as The Rock, or the Ultimate Warrior, or even John Cena. But there was something about Daniel Bryan that just messed with Hunter's head, and he was going to kill himself finding out what it was.
Mark wasn't about to just stand by and watch Hunter kill himself over something so insignificant. That wasn't the man he'd married. That wasn't the man that he loved. "You find the bottle, princess?"
"Yep!" She held it up triumphantly, and Mark gave his nod of approval. Rising up off the bed, he joined her in the mini-kitchen.
"Thank you, princess." Taking the bottle from her, he prepped a bottle for Madison, before sticking it in the microwave.
"Mommy never puts it in the microwave. Mommy uses a bottle warmer." Lily said, her tone matter-of-fact.
Since when was the kid on the Mommy bandwagon? One minute she loved him, the next, she didn't even want to hear his name! Mark could barely keep up! "Yes, well, Mommy doesn't test it, either. If you test it first, it's fine."
When the timer went off, Mark removed the bottle and shook it to make it hot throughout. Then, he handed it to Lily. "Why're you giving it to me?"
"Big sister duty. Go ahead, test the bottle." He already knew it wasn't too hot and wouldn't burn her.
The words 'big sister duty' worked like a charm. If there was a prize for 'best big sister ever', Lily probably would have won it hands down. From the minute they'd told her that Hunter was expecting, she'd made it her mission to be the biggest help she could be. And if that meant she accidentally drank formula once or twice, well… there were downsides to being a 'super sister'. She flipped the bottle over and dribbled some formula on her wrist.
"It's good!" She proclaimed. "Should I give it to Maddie?"
Mark nodded. "Yeah, you go do that." The knock on the door told them that their breakfast had arrived. "And I'll set up breakfast. Sound good?"
Lily smiled. "I love you, Daddy."
"I love you too, princess. Never forget that."
Randy didn't think he'd ever felt so alone. Against Hunter's advice, he'd gone back to the apartment alone. And now, as he stared into his little boy's bedroom, unable to step inside, he realized why Hunter had tried so very hard to get him to stay. The room was immaculate, and he realized with a sinking in his stomach that there would be nobody returning to it to make it messy again. The room would be just like this... forever.
He forced himself to take a step inside. Then another. Another. Until finally, he collapsed on the bed, grateful for the one thing that John had done right since giving him the greatest gift in the world, their son. The bed was sturdy as a rock. Hell, it could probably survive an avalanche. It still smelled like him. The Johnson & Johnson baby shampoo they used in his hair had long since overpowered the faint scent of lavender in the laundry detergent.
He could remember many a night when he'd crammed himself into the bed with his son, reading one of the many books in the end table that would now only serve to collect dust. But Randy wouldn't – couldn't – let them get dusty. He'd be in here every month, every week, every day if need be, to make sure that everything was perfectly preserved. This would always be Dexter's room, Dexter's bed…
He'd change the sheets to Dexter's favorite pair, and lay out a new pair of pajamas for the boy every night. Even though he'd never wear them, they'd go in the washer, along with his security blanket, his pre-school clothes, and the Hulk costume that Randy had bought him as an early birthday surprise. In six days, it would've been his little boy's birthday. He would've thrown him the most extravagant party ever. He would've found a way to force John to come.
His little boy would never have the chance to attend elementary school, never go to his first awkward middle school semi-formal, never have his first kiss, his first love, his first heart-break… Randy took hold of the picture that was sitting on the bedside table. It showed the three of them together, back when they were happy… or at least able to successfully fake that they were. Back when their little boy was safely in their arms, alive and well.
There were very few pictures in the apartment. Most were of the three of them together, feigning some sort of happiness so that when Dexter grew up, he could look back on them and say that his parents loved each other immensely and that they loved him twice as much. As time went on, however, there were more and more pictures of just Dexter and Randy... then of just Dexter, whose small body seemed to be swallowed by the enormity of the empty backdrop.
There were no pictures of Randy and John together. That was because Randy had gone through and broken them all on his way to Dexter's bedroom. There was no reason to keep up the facade of happiness any longer, no need to play games to please a nonexistent audience. John hadn't loved Randy in a very long time, and Randy loved John because John had given him the best gift in the world - a gift that had died on the operating table less than twenty-four hours ago.
Randy had no reason to pretend to be happy any longer, no reason to pretend to be satisfied with the hand he'd been dealt. He felt a twisted longing to be pregnant again, like another baby could fill the void left behind by his son. But it would never work. How could he ever hope to have another child when he'd be afraid of losing them, just like he'd lost Dexter? How could he bring another child into that sort of situation?
The answer? He couldn't.
And so he'd just lay here a little while longer, basking in the scent of his little boy. And dream of all the things that could have been, but would never be...
"Are you sure about this, Phil?" Kofi watched his friend meticulously pack his bags. He had to leave for the airport within the hour if he expected to make his flight.
"I've never been more sure about anything in my life." Phil said firmly, zipping his luggage closed. "Thanks for letting me crash here for a little while. Now, I've got a date with a goat." Both snickered at the innocent inside jab, knowing Phil didn't mean it maliciously.
After talking with Daniel on the phone, Phil had decided to fly out to spend WrestleMania week with his fiance. Their situation wasn't ideal, but he realized that his lover needed to head into his matches with a clear head if he hoped to best the Authority. Especially in his match with Triple H. The COO would undoubtedly pull some particularly nasty, underhanded tricks to try and get his way.
While Phil still held that he was on the right side of this argument, he wanted his fiance safe and healthy. And if that meant momentarily conceding for the good of the cause, then that's what he'd do. After their conversation had ended, he'd booked the first flight he could get and had managed to make arrangements for a hotel room until he could speak with Daniel. He didn't think he'd be needing it for long.
"I know that this is difficult for you. But you're doing the right thing - for the relationship, and for your baby." Looking down, Phil smoothed his hand over his considerable baby bump. It was getting closer to his due date... and, no matter what he might say to his face, Phil wanted Daniel to be there.
Phil looked at his friend out of the corner of his eye. "I think that I've finally decided on a name."
Kofi grinned. That particular topic had been a sensitive area as he and Daniel continued to fight, so knowing that he'd picked out a name was definitely a good sign. "Oh? Do tell."
"Bryan Jackson Brooks-Danielson." Phil said with a small nod. "We'll probably just call him BJ for short, though."
"We?" Kofi asked, barely daring to hope that perhaps Phil had finally started to forgive his fiance and figured out a way to move past this mess.
Phil nodded. "We." He almost sounded relieved to be able to say it. "No matter what happens during this week, I want him to be part of BJ's life. I honestly don't think I can handle it on my own."
"You're going to be a great parent, Phil." That earned Kofi a small, hesitant smile.
"Best in the world, remember?"
"Always." Kofi grabbed Phil's bags. "Let me carry these out to your car for you."
Under normal circumstances, Phil would've protested that he could've figured out how to get them to his car on his own. But, while he had some difficulty admitting to it, he was grateful for Kofi's help. As his baby bump continued to grow bigger, it was getting more and more difficult for him to do things on his own. Even something as trivial as getting his own luggage to the car had become a hassle.
Kofi loaded up the car, before opening the driver's side door for Phil. Phil slipped behind the wheel without comment. They both quickly went over the list of things that Phil would need at the airport, including his ID. Once they were sure he had everything, Phil thanked his friend for his hospitality, and Kofi assured him that he was welcome back anytime. That, and his wife would probably kill him if she didn't get to hold the baby at least once.
Phil laughed. "I'll remember that. Can't have the wife offing you when you're almost back from injury."
Kofi joined him, but then, putting a hand on his shoulder, became serious, "Listen, Phil. The two of you love each other. You've been through hell, but you're making the right call here. Use this week to feel each other out again. What's the worst that could happen?"
Phil turned his attention to the windshield, his olivine eyes becoming cold, "The Authority ends Bryan's career and he ends up with an injury that he can't come back from, an injury that leaves him paralyzed or threatens his health." Phil laughed wryly, "You know, this is the first time I've ever really hoped I was wrong."
Kofi squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "You will be. Everything will be fine, just watch."
"I hope you're right..."
Daniel stood out in the hallway uncertainly. He knew that this was a stupid plan. Why had he ever thought it would be a good idea to take advice from the Queen of Crazy herself, AJ Lee? Sure, he'd tweaked her plan a little. Instead of waiting for the COO to be released from the hospital, he'd chosen to confront him in his room. Where there were witnesses. You know, just in case.
Gathering his strength, and silently praying he'd make it out of this alive, he pushed open the door to Hunter's private hospital room, knocking while entering. "Hunter? It's Daniel. We need to talk."