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

Adam awoke the next morning to find himself alone in bed, the sheets and blankets pressed neatly where Randy had once lain. Adam felt an unfamiliar twist in his stomach, like a tight knot that refused to loosen, and he didn't know what was causing it. It didn't help that he was incredibly nauseous at the same time. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. Blindly, he reached for the note Randy had left behind.

Adam –

I'm sorry that I had to leave so suddenly, but the babysitter called and Alannah has come down with the stomach bug. I've been away from her for a long time and she needs me now. I'll call once she's settled.

Love, Randy

Adam crumpled the note into a ball and tossed it onto the floor, rubbing at his throbbing temples to try and soothe the pain. It didn't work. Nothing worked. In his business, you treated a hangover with a bender. But he didn't much care for alcohol at the moment. It made his head spin just thinking about the vile substance. He chewed on his bottom lip, before gathering the courage to roll over. The room started to spin and he had to stop halfway.

Finally, he was able to roll over entirely, and he reached into the bedside table, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol. He read the instructions on the back of the bottle, not wanting to worsen his condition, before taking two ovular pills and swallowing them dry. He tossed it back into the bedside table and rolled onto his back, closing his eyes again. Why did he feel like someone had run a tractor-trailer over his body? Everything just hurt.

"Brielle!" He called. His voice was weak, but it sounded like rapid gunfire in his ears. "Brielle, sweetie!"

After a few minutes, the tiny girl shuffled into the room, rubbing at her tired eyes with little fists. "Yes, Mommy?"

Adam forced a smile for her, watching as she struggled to climb on the big bed. "Could you do Mommy a big favor?" A nod. "I need some water. My throat is really dry. Can you bring me a glass from downstairs?"

Brielle tilted her head to the side, blonde curls tumbling over her shoulder. "But, Mommy… you said that I wasn't supposed to go in any of the cabinets because there is bad stuff in there."

Adam remembered. That had been when he had hidden away a pack of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey – just in case. "This is a special occasion, sweetie. And you know where the glasses are."

Brielle nodded, already trying to slide back off the bed. But then, she asked, "Are you sick, Mommy?"

Adam looked her directly in the eye and lied. "No, sweetie. Mommy is just fine."

Brielle smiled. "Okay. I'll be right back!"

Normally, Adam wouldn't trust the six-year-old to carry herself up the stairs, let alone a glass of water. But he doubted that he could even move, let alone fetch one by himself. He closed his eyes, gently massaging his temples again. Adam didn't like to lie to his daughter. He didn't make it a regular habit, either. But he was scared, scared of the unknown, scared of what he did know. And he couldn't let Brielle know that he was scared.

He knew that Randy loved him, and while he couldn't say it out loud, he knew that he loved him as well. Sometimes, though, he had trouble believing what he was being beaten over the head with. Randy loved him. That wouldn't change any time soon. But, at one point, Wade had said that he loved him as well. Love always ended. The only love that remained was his love for Brielle, and he knew that that would never falter.

His phone buzzed on the bedside table. He didn't remember putting it there. He sighed, black dots dancing before his eyes as he rolled over, reaching out to answer it. "Hello?"

"Adam?" It was Vince. Of course, it was Vince. "Where the hell are you? Do you know what time it is? We had an agreement, Adam. The day your back on American soil, your ass is back on my stage. It's been three days."

Adam swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, sir. It's just… It's been hard getting -,"

Vince cut him off. "Do I sound like I care about how hard life has been since you got back?"

Adam rolled his eyes. Where was Brielle with his water? "No, sir. You don't." He rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand, feeling the sweat pour off of him in waves. "Listen, sir… I'm not feeling too well."

"Can you stand?" Vince asked.

Adam didn't know. But, like he had been doing a lot recently, he lied. "Yes."

"If you can stand, then you're fit to come in to work. Just take some Advil and put on your big-boy pants, kid. I don't pay you to lay at home, do I?" He snapped rudely.

Adam swallowed hard. "I already took some Tylenol, sir. I can't take anything else for four hours." He clenched at the bed sheets, holding back another wave of nausea. "And please, don't speak so loudly."

"I expect you to be here within the hour." Vince said, before he ended the call.

Adam bit back the urge to call him back, chew his head off, make him hurt. Adam threw his phone down onto the bed, cursing as the room span around in violent circles. He couldn't move fast enough. Stumbling off the bed, he barely made it to the trashcan before he violently revisited the contents of his stomach. The taste of bile was thick in his mouth and throat, and once the violent attack was over, he slid onto his butt, leaning against the dresser.

"Mommy, I have your water!" Brielle exclaimed happily, proud that she hadn't spilled a single drop.

"Thank you so much, baby girl." He rasped, his throat raw from the attack. He took it in shaky hands, spilling more onto himself than he swallowed. Brielle watched him, frightened.

"Are you sure that you're okay, Mommy? You don't look too good." Brielle said worriedly.

"I'm fine, sweetie. I'm fine."

Adam did his best to put on the show that these men had come to see, but it was hard to have the focus he needed when the room was just… so… hot. He moved around, thrusting his body against Jeff's as they stripped each other of their outfits. Jeff made a show of sensually sliding his hands down Adam's sides, careful not to set off any more violent reactions. They had rehearsed backstage and he had gotten sick. The attack had lasted five minutes.

Jeff had given Adam some anti-nausea medication, which had helped to settle his stomach somewhat. However, it did little to quell the burning, dizzying heat that he felt in his core. He pumped his body this way and that, ignoring it until he just couldn't ignore it any longer. Halfway into their routine, Adam desperately clutched at Jeff's forearms, using the slightly shorter man's body for balance as his feet went out from underneath him.

The crowd gasped, suddenly realizing what was going on. Jeff, realizing that this could very well cost the blond his career (and, with it, take his only source of income), made quite the show of making it seem like this was all part of the act. He carried the semi-conscious Adam through the last bits of their routine, holding him close and allowing the blond to inhale his comforting, familiar scent. Jeff would always take care of his boy.

When the show was over, Jeff waited until the curtain closed, before he picked Adam up and carried him bridal-style to their dressing room. Carefully, he set the blond down on the couch. He got a water bottle and slid the nipple between the taller man's lips, squeezing the cool, refreshing liquid into his mouth. Adam gulped it down greedily, obviously not as far gone as Jeff had originally thought. When he was finished, Jeff pulled the nipple back.

"What the hell happened out there, Adam? I thought that you had died on me or something!" Jeff exclaimed, concerned. "Why would you come back if you weren't one-hundred percent?"

"Because Vince said that I had to." Adam said. He didn't meet Jeff's eyes, knowing that he would see the disapproval there. "And I can't tell him no, now, can I?"

Jeff waved it off. "Tell me, what do you think you have? The stomach bug? Some sort of virus? Vince wouldn't want you back if it was contagious, you know. You could infect the whole club."

Adam looked down sullenly. "I know that. And… it's not contagious." Adam swallowed hard. "I think that I'm pregnant."