Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, other than Brielle, Bradley, and Cassie.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Violence, Domestic Violence, Self-Harm, etc.

Jay clutched the tiny child's hand in his own as he led her up the front stairs of what was to be their home for the next little while. A mix of many different emotions were visible on her conflicted face as he unlocked the door and quickly ushered her inside. Her confusion was understandable. After all, everything was happening so quickly and nobody was taking the time to explain any of it to her. Not that they even could. The more information that she knew, the more danger she was in. The less she knew about the mysterious man with the gun, the better.

Once the door was shut behind him, he paused, taking a minute to simply absorb everything that had happened. Shortly after leaving the precinct, he'd been granted emergency custody of Brielle and had left with her to an undisclosed location. It was there that they had met Officer Cole, who had driven them to their new home. It wasn't much – but what could they expect, having been given such short notice? – in the way of extravagance, but it was livable. A two-bedroom, one-bathroom abode in the middle of nowhere, it was probably safe to assume that this was the last place Wade would look for them.

Brielle, setting what little she had been allowed to bring with her down on the ground, began to look over their new home with childish scrutiny. Her primary concerns were the number of toys, how bouncy her bed was, and if there was any room for monsters to hide in her closet. She seemed relatively pleased by the end of her inspection, but still a little down. She undoubtedly missed her Mommy, and was probably worried for him. After all, she had seen him get shot defending her, and she knew about the little secret inside Mommy's belly. Her concern was well-warranted.

"Mr. Jay." Brielle said, coming up to the blond attorney and pulling on his hand. "There are only two beds. Where's Mommy gonna sleep?" Brielle asked, worry shining in her cute blue eyes.

Jay smiled sadly. He knew that it would be only a matter of time before he had to tell her about Adam. "Sweetie, there's only two beds because Mommy has to stay at the hospital. It's just you and me now." Brielle didn't seem to take too kindly to that, "I'm really sorry, but Mommy has to stay there and heal."

"This is because of the bad man, isn't it? The bad man that hurt Mommy." Jay said nothing, only ruffled the child's pretty blonde curls. He silently cursed her for being wise beyond her years. "Why does he want to hurt Mommy?"

The older man shook his head. "I don't know, honey. But try not to let it worry you, okay?"

She nodded, undoubtedly worrying about it anyhow. After a beat, she continued, "Is Mommy gonna be lonely in the hospital?" And then, a brilliant idea came to her. "We should call him!"

Jay's heart sank as he was forced to deny her again. "We can't, honey. I'm sorry."

Her smile slowly melted into a frown and tears started to blossom in her pretty blue eyes. "Why not?"

Sighing, he knew that he couldn't hide it from her any longer. Kneeling down to her level, he gently took hold of her shoulders and informed her, "This new home that we're in… its top-secret stuff. Nobody can know about it, so the bad man can't hurt you."

"Not even Mommy?" Brielle sniffled weakly.

"Not even Mommy." Jay affirmed. "I promise you, nothing's gonna happen to him. And I promised him that nothing will happen to you. This is me keeping that promise."

"But what happens if the bad man comes and hurts you, like he did Randy?" The little girl continued.

His smile was slightly forced now, but he didn't think that the little girl truly noticed. "I want to show you something, okay, princess? It's a secret, just between you and me. Think you can keep it?"

Brielle, anxious to please, nodded enthusiastically. "Yes!"

Jay smiled, before taking hold of her hand. He led her through the small living room and down the hallway, pausing before a door that she hadn't been able to see earlier. Even though the house was small, it still had a basement. That was where Jay intended to take the child now. Opening the door, he flipped on the light switch and ushered her carefully down the old wooden steps. The room was thick with the stench of mildew and mold, and the fresh scent of the newly fallen rain and damp earth seemed to cling to the walls. The entirety of it was oddly comforting.

There wasn't much in the way of furniture down in the basement. Some old couches and tables, all covered in cloth covers, were scattered here and there. Jay had no interest in them. Instead, he led her over to the small closet beneath the stairs, and, after unlocking the door, he slipped the lanyard and key over Brielle's head and let it fall around her neck. He pushed open the door and turned on the light, revealing a small trunk that looked just a tiny bit larger than Brielle herself. Huge holes had been drilled into it to allow air into the trunk, but not large enough to allow one to see inside of it.

"We're gonna have a code word, okay?" Jay told her. "One word that I want you to remember. If I say it, it means run. I want you to come down here and hide. This storage closet locks from the inside, so lock yourself in. The light can't be seen, so you can leave it on. Hide here. You'll be safe."

Brielle seemed slow to be taking all of this in, but after a moment, she motioned to the trunk. "You want me to hide in there?" She asked.

"If it comes to it, yes." Jay said. "You can hear if someone is on the stairs. If you hear the bad man come downstairs, hide in the trunk. It doesn't lock, but he won't be able to see you and you'll still be able to breathe."

Brielle nodded, slowly fingering the key around her neck. "And what if it isn't the bad man?"

"I'll say the code word again." Jay answered immediately.

A pause, then, "What's the code word gonna be?"

"I think that you should be the one to come up with it." Jay said. "If you come up with it, you'll remember it better. So, what do you say, kiddo? What's the word?"

After several moments, Brielle responded with a soft, slightly trembling voice, "Baby."

Adam thanked the woman for wheeling him up to the NICU, where he would be meeting his son for the first time. However, upon arriving, he paused. Through the glass, he could see a man already inside, leaning over one of the cribs. "Who is that?"

The nurse peered in curiously, before responding, "Oh, him? That's Mr. Wyatt. He comes down here every night, says it helps him sleep. The doctors don't have the heart to turn him away… not after…"

When she stopped again, Adam prodded her further, "Not after what?"

"I'm really not supposed to say." She worried her bottom lip nervously. "But just between you and me, he's had a real bitch of a week."

"Really?" Adam asked, suddenly anxious to drown in someone else's misery.

"Mmhmm." She affirmed. "His thirteen-year-old daughter Abigail was diagnosed with Stage Four Leukemia two weeks ago. She died this morning, fifteen minutes before her sister was born. As it turns out, the baby has a seventy-five percent chance of developing the same strain of cancer."

"That's awful…" Adam trailed, feeling his heart go out for this stranger.

"What's worse is that, after giving birth, his wife had a nervous breakdown. All their money is going toward a private facility in Rio that claims to be able to help her. He's flat broke."

"All alone with a new baby…" he knew what that felt like, and it wasn't a comforting feeling. "He must feel so alone right now."

The nurse seemed indifferent to it all. "But you didn't hear that from me."

"Of course not." Adam brushed her off. "Will you wheel me inside? I want to see my baby." She was happy to oblige, hitting the handicapped accessible entrance button and wheeling him inside. The man, Mr. Wyatt, was so out of it he didn't even look up. "Call for me when you're ready to come back, hmm?"

Adam assured her that he would, before turning to look down at his precious son. The little boy had made considerable strides since his impromptu birth a few days before. His tiny body was tucked into a diaper that looked much too large for him, and various wires were attached to his chest – but from what he could see of his chart, they were slowly dwindling. He had a small oxygen mask over his little mouth and nose, and the doctor had explained that he was having some trouble breathing on his own. However, she had also been quick to assure him that his lungs were developing normally.

His little man was a fighter. It looked like he was going to make it, no matter how high the deck was stacked against him. Adam's heart clenched as he realized that part of that battle was his own fault. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he faced extreme problems with self-image and self-worth. One of the greatest issues he faced was eating regularly and properly, and Judy had wasted no time in bringing that to the forefront of his mind. The bullet wound to the shoulder might have triggered the beginning of the miscarriage, but his poor health habits would've caused one eventually. Or, something even worse.

"I guess that just leaves one thing up in the air, little man." Adam said with a small smile. He looked at the little name plate on the side of the crib, which simply read 'Baby Boy Copeland'. "You need a name."

But what to name him? He could always go classic and name him after Randy, but would that be too formal? When Brielle had been born, Adam had had absolutely no interest in naming her after Wade's mother or his own. It wasn't that he didn't think that they were each beautiful names, but rather, that he wanted to separate himself from everyone. His Ma didn't know about what had happened, and he had broken all connections with Wade's family after his 'death'. He truly felt alone – just like that man, Mr. Wyatt, must've felt right then. He looked so lost, confused, forsaken…

Adam wished that he could hold the little boy, but understood that he needed to stay in the crib for safety's sake. "I think that I'll call you Bradley… Bradley Douglas Copeland-Orton." Adam chuckled softly to himself. "God, that's a mouthful. You're gonna hate me when you get to kindergarten."

"It's a nice name." Mr. Wyatt nearly gave Adam a heart attack when he finally spoke up, "Sorry, didn't mean to scare you, kid." Taking a deep breath, he continued, "Naming them, I think, is the hardest part."

Adam, intrigued by this unique man, wheeled ever-so-slightly nearer to him. "What'd you name her?"

"Cassiopeia." He responded immediately. "Cassie, for short." And since such a unique name warranted an explanation, he continued, "My wife is an astronomer. She named both of our kids for constellations."

Adam didn't know much about the constellations, but found it strange that one would be called 'Abigail'. And so, he asked, "What's your other child's name?"

"Andromeda." Again, without missing a beat. "Her name was Andromeda Abigail Wyatt." Here, he sniffled. "She hated being called Andromeda, so we always called her Abby. She passed this morning."

"I'm so sorry." Adam offered his condolences.

"It's not your fault." Bray offered. "It isn't anyone's fault, other than one backstabbing pharmacist." Bray clenched his hands into fists, "If it weren't for that idiot Chris Jericho -,"

Here, Adam snapped out of his reverie. "What a minute. Did you say Chris Jericho?"

A/N: I'm going to be slowly introducing Cassie across multiple stories, until these stories are finished and Bray's story is published. Anyhow, please review!