Sorry for not updating in a while. I've been really busy lol. Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far I appreciate it. I hope people like this chapter :-)
The world was splitting apart at the seams; the fuzzy blur smeared itself into reality as Shawn opened his eyes. He lay still waiting for the ceiling to stop whirling above him. With a groan he dragged his body into sitting position and cast his gaze about the room.
He blinked as the cream walls loomed around him, his brow furrowed in confusion.
How had he gotten from the bottom of the staircase to bed?
How do you get to bed every other time you pass out in drug induced stupor? She has to help you into bed like a child seven days a week.
He rubbed his hand against sleep shadowed eyes in an effort to dislodge the sands of slumber. He flexed his body, winced as his back contracted.
Really shouldn't do that.
He stretched his legs until he felt the limbs click. He was in bad shape. Three years of being inactive in the wrestling world combined with pills, beer and his mama's home made cookies had managed to turn his toned muscles into mush.
Yes because keeping fit is really on your top ten things to do list. It's right underneath 'Stop popping pills'
Shawn rolled onto his stomach, allowed his dusty mane to fall into his fatigued face. He pushed the niggling voice of criticism and scorn to the rear of his mind, chose instead to snuggle further beneath the blankets, not caring that the sun glaring through the chink in the curtains or the eerie quiet downstairs meant that it was well past noon.
He closed his eyes, rested his brow against the pillows and lay there soaking up the warmth smiling slightly as the blessed weight of sleep once again overpowered him.
It seemed as if mere seconds had passed when he was unceremoniously awoken by the crash of small limbs against his own. He buried his face against the fabric, emitted a groan of defeat and weariness.
He froze as the high pitched giggle split the air, dragged himself upwards and peeked through his golden brown bangs at the source of commotion.
"Hey kid" he whispered softly.
The toddler squealed at this acknowledgement, continued crawling over his father's idle form.
Shawn shot him a small grin as the youngster caressed his face with sticky fingers.
"What you doing?" he asked lightly as he peered into large grey eyes
"Wake"
"Waking me up?" translated Shawn. He faltered as his small son pulled at his face in an attempt to reinforce the message that playtime was well overdue.
"Ok, Cameron ok"
He picked the little boy up, brought the small body close to his own so he could inhale the essence of him. This child, this beautiful baby boy deserved better.
He sighed sharply as his stomach tightened. He really needed to stop the pills. Sleeping in until mid afternoon and neglecting your only son wasn't being a good parent. Leaving Rebecca to take care of Cameron all day unassisted was not being a good husband either.
"Play!" commanded Cameron tugging at his father's shirt.
He won't want you forever
Shawn tightened his grip on the child as if afraid the voice of paranoia was going to steal the child from his arms, he dotted his small head with tender kisses.
Once he figures out what a deadbeat he's got for a father he'll be out of here so fast your head'll spin.
Subconsciously Shawn shook his head, tried his best to counter the thought. Cameron was his baby, he didn't notice if he took pills every now and again. He just wanted daddy to play with him every once in a while. He understood that sometimes daddy got too tired to play.
Like you did?
Shawn brushed the criticism off, desperately tried to block the distant memory from view. He didn't want to take a walk down memory lane. Not right now.
"Daddy play!"
The impatient tone of his near two year old son jolted him back to the present.
"Play what?" he asked
"Bang"
"We gotta teach you some new words" said Shawn
Who's we? Since when were you sober long enough to teach the kid anything except how to drool all over yourself and ramble incoherent nothings?
"Go jump" muttered Shawn through clenched teeth. He faltered as Cameron gazed up at him in bewilderment, awaiting a logical response.
"Wanna play with G.I. Joe?" he asked
Cameron shook his head.
"Wanna watch TV?"
Again the toddler refuted Shawn's get out clause.
"Cam I don't wanna play shoot outs"
"BANG!"
Shawn chewed at his lip, exhaled sharply through his nose.
Go on; shout at him for wanting to play. Be a product of your own upbringing.
He sighed deeply as the conflict raged within him.
"Come on" he said softly. He clambered from the bed, left the blankets in a crumpled heap as he exited the room with the small boy in tow.
When Rebecca came to investigate Shawn had managed to turn the front room into a home made battlefield.
Clothes and sheets were strewn across the upturned sofa and their son stood crouched behind one, diaper sagging to his knees with what looked to be the fruit bowl on his head. In his tiny fists he held a water pistol.
Her husband was no better; he dived from behind the arm chair, his hair tousled and his clothes rumbled, clad in wrist guards and knee pads from years gone by with a baseball cap skewered sideways. He gave a cry of surprise at the sight of Cameron, threw his arms into the air and let out a wail of mock defeat that intermingled with the child's high pitched shriek of amusement.
With a rat-a-tat noise Shawn collapsed to the ground, lay writhing on the carpet on his side. He closed his eyes and lay still. Rebecca looked on, her lips curled upwards as she desperately tried to contain her giggles.
"Ow!" exclaimed Shawn; he opened his eyes as the plastic made contact with his face for the second time.
"Cameron don't hit daddy with the water pistol, that's not what it's for!" chastised Rebecca from the doorway.
"Yeah Cameron that's not what it's for" said Shawn tugging it gently from his small hands. He threw it behind him, far out of reach so that his son couldn't try bludgeoning him with the toy once more.
Cameron giggled, his eyes shimmering with laughter.
"I gave up; you're not supposed to hit me!" said Shawn with mock indignation
"Play"
"We just played!"
"Again" demanded Cameron staring down at his father.
"Daddy's tired" complained Shawn from his position on the floor, "Go pester Mommy"
Obediently the boy waddled to his mother, clutched at her skirt and demanded that she too crawl behind the makeshift trenches.
"Shawn" giggled Rebecca
"Hey if I'm roped into this war you're in it too" said Shawn with a sly smirk.
She kneeled up her hair flowing down her back as she stared after Cameron who was bent down scrabbling beneath the coffee table.
"What do you think he's found?" she whispered
"My bet's on either food or some sort of makeshift weapon to clobber me with"
Rebecca tutted good naturedly as her husband smiled.
"What've you got Cam?" she called as the toddler emerged
He stumbled on unsteady limbs over to his parents and held out the container.
Rebecca took it and glanced down, her face white.
Shawn felt his heart lurch into his mouth as he saw the familiar bottle of pills.
Shame you didn't put that bet on Soma.