Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle and Lilly.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Het, Stripping, Exotic Dancing, Non-Con, Domestic Violence, Child Abuse, etc.

"I don't think that I understand. We need to talk about Phil? What about him? I hardly even know him!" The look of absolute and utter confusion on John's face was adorable. Jeff smiled.

"There's no reason to get your knickers in a twist, JoMo. It's not anything bad. I just need… advice." Jeff rolled the word around in his mouth for a few seconds before he decided that yes, it would do the job just fine.

John raised a delicate eyebrow. "Advice? On what?" He rose out of his chair and retrieved a water bottle.

"A few days ago, Phil found out that he was pregnant." Jeff said. Had it only been a few days? It felt like a few months. "His hormones are already out of control and he's a lot… moodier, you could say. And he's about to murder my brother."

"Aren't we all?" John drank some of the water as he reclined in his rocking chair.

"What is it about my brother that makes everyone want to kill him? I seemed to have missed that meeting." Jeff sighed.

John smirked. "It's just that he's so annoyingly aloof, Jeffy. Gets under your skin without really realizing he's doing it, y'know? And once he's there, he's kinda like a tick. He digs in his roots and starts to suck the life out of you."

"So, my brother is a bothersome parasite?" Jeff asked. His look of confusion mirrored John's from earlier.

"To a pregnant and hormonal… well, moody… Phil? Yes. Yes, he is." John nodded sympathetically.

Jeff reflected back on their little hate-fest from earlier. He couldn't even remember the names that they had called each other, but he could see that with each insult thrown, Phil was only getting angrier. It was like he felt out of place in his own home and therefore he felt obligated to leave. And, technically, it was Jeff's fault that his brother was there in the first place. So, in a sense, it was Jeff's fault that Phil felt this way.

But what could he do about it? It wasn't like he could just take back all that he said about Phil. He had said it in the heat of the moment, after he feared that Phil had given up on their relationship because he was now 'damaged goods'. And isn't it true that the most honest words to ever come out of your mouth are in the heat of the moment? That, or bold-faced lies. And he knew that some (not all) of what he had said had been truthful. He couldn't conceal them with lies.

John watched all of these emotions flicker across Jeff's face, each one followed by a new level of realization. John smiled. In the end, Jeff would always be the parental figure of their little trio and John and Adam would be his wayward children. But sometimes, those roles needed to be reversed. Sometimes, the children could see the light where the parents couldn't. And, in this case, Jeff had been blind to the obvious truth. Phil needed someone to let him know he was still in control.

"Where is Phil now?" John asked as he took another swig of his water.

Jeff's face went blank as he tried to think. "He went to the store. He's been spending a lot of time there lately, even when we don't need food. He just comes back with new stuff for the baby. Unisex, because we don't know the gender yet."

John nodded. "You should head home." He leaned forward and set the water bottle on the coffee table. "Surprise him. Does he normally cook?" Jeff nodded. "Maybe make him a romantic dinner and give him a massage?"

Jeff nodded as he took all of this advice to heart. "But what should I do about my brother?"

John took out his phone, scrolled down his list of contacts, and found Amy's number. "Oh, don't worry, that's covered."

"Thanks so much, man. I don't know what I would do without you." Jeff said. He rose and ruffled the other man's dense black locks affectionately. John mewled and tried to move away.

"Don't mess with the hair, man!" John cried. He dropped the phone onto his lap and frantically tried to fix his hair to no avail. "And don't worry. You so owe me for this one."

"I kinda figured. Whatever you need, whenever, I'll be there." Jeff promised, before he walked out the door. "Thanks again, John!" And then, the door closed softly behind him.

John leaned back into his chair and closed his eyes. Now that that crisis was averted, maybe there was time for a little nap before Mike came home from work. His feet slowly worked the chair back and forth, back and forth, lulling him into a sense of security. The baby kicked and he gently soothed him, whispering sweet nothings to the baby until he finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell away into dreamland.

Mark leaned back in his wheelchair as he watched Hunter sleep. It was still too much physical exertion for him to walk from his room to Hunter's, or so the doctor had said, so he borrowed a wheelchair twice a week and had one of the nurses wheel him down so he could spend an hour or two with his husband. Nobody knew exactly what had happened to him, but they did realize that he had experienced an extreme surge in his pain levels and had upped his medication.

Lilly stood a few inches in front of him, her elbows pressing into the soft, white mattress as she examined her Mommy's body. This was the first time that she had been allowed to see him in who knew how many months, so it was understandable that she wanted to examine him closely to ensure that nothing had changed. And, for the most part, he looked absolutely normal. Other than the oxygen mask and all of the wires and the bloody gauze, that is.

Mark had had to explain to Lilly that Hunter had had a lot of booboos, just like he did. Only Mommy wasn't recovering as quickly as he had – he left out the obvious, as quickly as he should be. Mark had been injured more severely than he had, so it was only logical that Hunter should be the one in the wheelchair coming to visit him. But it hadn't turned out that way and nobody knew why. That was what scared him the most. Not knowing why his husband might never wake up.

"Daddy?" Lilly turned to him, her pretty blonde ponytails swishing over her little shoulders. Her blue eyes shimmered with tears as she walked over to him and carefully climbed into his lap. "What's wrong with Mommy?"

Hunter sighed. He had known that she would have all of these questions – that's why he hadn't wanted her to see Hunter yet. But she had insisted and cried, and he hated it when she cried. "Mommy has a lot of booboos, sweetheart."

"But Mommy is really strong. You told me that he once tackled that really nasty man at the club with a broken arm. That was a booboo too, and that got better." Mark had left off the part where his arm got broken a second time because of it.

"Yes, flower. That was a booboo too and that got better." Mark nodded. Slowly, he stroked her silken hair.

"So this will get better soon too, right?" Lilly asked.

"It should." Mark agreed.

Suddenly, the little child blinked her tears away as a bright idea lit her damp blue eyes. Hurriedly, she climbed off of her Daddy's lap and walked back over to the bedside, where she had once stood. The mattress was still indented from where her little elbows had pushed into the material. She leaned over the side of the bed, her eyes frantically searching for what she needed. And then, she found it. His hand.

Carefully, she took the hand that wasn't attached to all of the wires – which, thankfully, was also the arm that wasn't affected by the bullet wound – and lifted it. Her tiny arms shook with the difficulty of it because she wasn't used to lifting that much dead weight. But finally, after all her hard work, his hand stretched out on the white sheets. And she bent down and kissed the skin there, before she held his hand and squeezed.

"What was that for, flower?" Mark asked confusion lacing his tone.

"Mommy and Daddy always kiss my booboos to make them better. I didn't want to kiss his actual booboo, 'cause it's all bloody and yucky. Do you think the kiss will make it anyway?" Lilly asked her eyes hopeful.

Unbidden, Mark felt tears start to blur his vision. "Yeah, flower. I think that the kiss will help him heal real fast." He could only hope that that was true.

Randy looked down at Adam, who was curled into his side, asleep. All of the stress of this horrific situation had finally caught up with him and he had just crashed. Tears streaked down his beautiful face, even in his unconscious state, and he mumbled about Brielle. Randy frowned as he stroked the blond's soft, silken hair. It took a Class A bastard to take a man's child away from him, especially with all that Adam had done to keep that angel as safe and healthy as she could be.

They had called and left a message for Jay, telling him to call back at his earliest convenience. Now, all that they could do was wait. Adam had worked himself into a frenzy, worrying over whether Brielle had been taking her medication, whether she had a bed to lay down in, whether Chris was feeding her properly… the list went on and on. Randy just shushed him softly and promised him that he would do all that was within his power to bring Brielle back to him.

Subconsciously, both men could feel this connection start to form between them. Neither man really realized it, but the stress of the situation had brought them undeniably closer. Randy cared for Adam and, even if he had never met Brielle, he cared about her too. But it was something deeper than that. He cared about the fact that Adam was breaking down without his baby and not just a friendly-concern kind of way. He wanted to be the one to make it better for Adam.

Adam stirred and started to mumble again in his sleep. "Chris? Chris! Get your hands off of me! Stop it! Stop it!" Adam screamed and started to thrash in Randy's arms. Randy only held him tighter.

"Shh… shh… it's not Chris, Adam. It's Randy. I'm not gonna hurt you. And I'm certainly not gonna let that bastard hurt you or Brielle. Shh… shh…" Randy wiped the tears away from Adam's eyes and tenderly kissed his reddened cheeks.

Eventually, Adam settled back down into his fitful slumber. Randy stared down into his face, trying to commit every line and curve to detail, fearing that he would never be able to look at it like this again. He hadn't felt this way since before Sam died, and after her death, he had sworn that he would never love again. Apparently, his promises were as good as Fool's Gold. Because he could feel himself falling in love with Adam and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Hush now, baby. It's okay. Soon, you'll have Brielle back in your arms. She'll be safe and sound and healthy. You won't have to work in that club anymore. I'll get you a job at the modeling agency. You'd make a beautiful model, you know?"

Adam finally relaxed in his arms and mewled, "Randy…"

"Yes, Adam. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere…"