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

"Yes, I did. A man named Chris Jericho was responsible for handling my daughter's pain medication. Since she was diagnosed so late stage, they wouldn't even attempt radiation or any other treatment. They just claimed that they could make her 'comfortable' until her inevitable end." Bray informed him, his tone miserable.

"Let me guess," Adam helped him out by supplying part of the story. He didn't even have to hear what had happened, he just knew that Chris was that predictable. "He took your daughter's medicine and gave you a cheap placebo. The doctor increased the dosage, but she never received it. It all went to Jericho."

"How did you know that?" Bray snapped, seemingly uncomfortably suspicious now.

Waves of memories flooded Adam's brain, some too painful to recount. "I, unfortunately, have quite the history regarding Mr. Jericho. The fact that he would do something like this... well, it doesn't surprise me."

Bray no longer seemed concerned with the connection between them, and continued mournfully, "My precious Abby suffered excruciatingly for two weeks before her merciful end. What made it worse was the fact that the doctor blamed us for hoarding the medicine - he said it was our fault that our baby was hurting."

"I know how it feels to watch a child slowly die, and know that nobody is willing to help you. You feel betrayed by those that can, and pathetic that you cannot."

For some reason, he didn't exactly know why, he trusted this stranger. This man, who had also been wronged by the monster Chris Jericho, was being forced to watch as one daughter struggled for life, and to bear the knowledge that one was already dead. He felt, in a way, that he could commiserate with him. And so, he started to tell him about Brielle. Brielle, the light of his life, that had almost lost her life at the beginning of this entire ordeal because Adam didn't have the money to fund a surgery that was unapproved by their meager insurance plan. He could remember the panic that had seized him when Beth told him about the heart attack.

But for some reason, he couldn't stop there. Even if he had no intention of telling this man of his connection to Chris Jericho earlier, now, the words spilled from his lips before he could stop them. And why bother? Chris was dead - and he told him that, too. He told him of countless other lives that Chris had destroyed, including everyone from Shawn Michaels to Mark and Hunter Calloway. And deep down, he knew why he couldn't stop speaking. Because somewhere, deep down inside, he recognized that if he spread awareness for Chris' story and others like it... then deaths like Abby's wouldn't be in vain.

"He hurt countless people... stole livelihoods... tried to take lives... and even succeeded in some instances." Adam said, referencing the late Abigail Wyatt and Chris' own father, whom he had killed while on the run with Brielle. "There is absolutely no consolation in the death of a child, Mr. Wyatt. But I know one thing for certain."

Bray, who had been carefully listening to every word that fell from Adam's lips, was hooked. "What?"

"Chris Jericho is dead." Adam assured him, his tone deadly serious. "He can't hurt anyone anymore."

Bray, in a soft, but equally serious voice, countered, "There are certain men that are born into certain roles on this earth. Their actions, whether they continue to walk this earth or not, are seared into the minds of the survivors left behind. Today, and every day, will always be the day my Abigail died."

Adam could feel the pain radiating from Bray in waves, and could feel it budding within himself. "I don't..."

"Just like this..." Bray motioned around him. "None of this is real. All of this... is nothing more than a dream. Guilt brought about from being the sole survivor of a fire that ended the club. There is no Brielle... no Bradley... no Jeff and Phil... no Mike and John... and certainly no Randy. Everything you've told me... is a dream."

"I'm not sure that I understand." The confusion was clear in his eyes.

"You were six months pregnant when the fire happened. It was started by Chris Jericho, and Jericho died, as well as all the others. Your husband, Wade, was the one that saved you. You're on bed rest now, to save the baby..." Bray said. "All of this... it's just a bad dream, brought on by survivor's guilt."

"I don't -,"

Bray placed his hand on Adam's head, "All you have to do is wake up. Wake up... Wake up..."

Adam awoke with a start, chest heaving as he frantically gasped for air. His lungs were burning from the violent abuse, because they still hadn't recovered from the fire a few weeks earlier. Desperately feeling around, his hand landed on a flat, taut stomach. Frantically, he looked down, finding his husband stretched out on the bed beside him. He'd been woken by Adam's near panic-attack and was now watching the blond curiously, trying to assess the situation from afar. So, what Bray had said was true. All of it... everything... it had all been a dream. One hell of a vivid dream... but just a dream.

Looking around his bedroom, he saw various pictures... himself and Jeff... Jeff and JoMo... but neither of them were sporting wedding rings, and JoMo certainly wasn't pregnant. Wade, at this point, was worriedly fussing over him, slowly wrapping an arm around Adam's back and lowering him back to the bed. The out-of-it look on the blond's face wasn't helping his case, and Wade began to rub slow, soothing circles over his heavy baby bump. When Adam came back to the present, he offered Wade a shaky smile. Was it simply a dream, or a premonition? And why had he come to now... why didn't he know how it was supposed to end?

"You feeling alright, Addy?" Wade asked, his comforting British drawl washing over Adam. "You look like you had an unwelcome encounter with Death."

"I just had one hell of a dream, that's all." Adam said, kissing Wade on the cheek. Settling back in the bed, he placed a hand on his distended belly, "But I can tell you one thing. I have a good feeling that it's going to be a girl." A pause, "And I want to name her Brielle."

"Why Brielle?" Wade humored him, stroking his hair softly.

"Let's just say it came to me in a dream." Adam smiled, before closing his eyes.

Perhaps the reason he didn't know the ending... was because that would take the fun out of living.

A/N: There it is. The actual ending. Yes, I know it's sudden - but it's a happy ending, and the final ending. After I finish some of my other works, I might make a sequel. But that's all for now.