Random one shot that came to mind when I was watching an old DVD. R&R pleasms :)

He sighed staring at the crib before him. Empty. She was gone. And so was his little boy. She had left. With him. That fucking bastard. Who did he think he was anyway, parading round the arenas backstage, holding her hand, the belt thrown over his shoulder. Smirking, almost goading him. He had long since come to the terms that he wouldn't be a father. Well, not anytime soon. But that was another thing that hadn't been his fault. It had been hers. She was the one who'd had an abortion and asked the scriptwriters to write a miscarriage into the storyline. She was the one who'd purposely chased him for months on end, until he'd finally given in and gone out with her. She was the one who'd practically written the whole "stalker" storyline. She liked the drama. But when it came down to it, she was nothing more than a mere megalomaniac.

She left him for the guy with the biggest. Biggest storyline that is. To say he was crushed was to put it lightly. All he ever wanted was a family. A wife and a child. He didn't ask for much. He would have given her the world. And she would have been happy. He'd have made sure of it. He took a deep breath before beginning to dismantle the crib before him. It had been sitting there, fully built for roughly thirteen or fourteen months. Even when she had left him, he couldn't bring himself to redecorate the room. The pale blue walls remained, the teddy bears, the tiny furniture, the crib, the huge rocking chair in the corner. But now he had to. She wanted it all. For the new baby.

His baby. That arrogant rat bastards baby, he thought, unscrewing the first screw with an old screwdriver. It's amazing he can even have kids. A whore like that, surely he'd have had the brains to have a vasectomy. After all, a son of a bitch like him couldn't possibly want children. With this thought, came tears. He would never have a child, never be called daddy, never hold his son, never move on. He still loved her and he knew that if she was to ask him to take her back, baby and all, he would say yes without even having to think twice.

It was strange to say the least that, she should "lose" the baby in Autumn, leave him in June and by the following October, be at least six months pregnant. She had purposely try to make it look as though she had fallen in love with him afterwards. No, she had been having a full-blown, illicit affair for goodness know how long. It wasn't the first time she'd done it. Everyone knew about what she'd done to Hunter. And with his own best friend at the time. It had just taken Hunter until July 2004, long after she had broken up with him, to work it out. And as for that other one, the nobody, his own brother? It confused many with this one. Considering her boyfriend's brother was rumored to be gay. But she had sunk her claws into both of them. And kicked them out of her bed faster than they could say orgasm.

But that was her all over. People tend to think men are the whores in the company. Truth be told most men, like me, he thought. Are only looking for love. Occasionally you'll get one of those whores, like him or Cena, but no most were decent. It was the girls who slept around. Using their bodies to manipulate the storylines, to put men off of their work. To leave them so heartbroken that they had contemplated suicide.

As he heard a small tap at the door, he placed the screwdriver on the bed, quite sure it was her. She had called the night before to ask for the baby's furniture. She knew fine well that he wouldn't say no to her. He took a deep breath walking down the stairs, running a hand over his face. He got to the bottom of the staircase and stared at the glass panel on the door. It was her all right. He could see her hair through the glass. Placing a hand on the handle of the door, he noticed how badly it was shaking. God, even the sight of her made him nervous now. He slowly pushed the door handle down and opened the door.

And there she was.

His eyes working from the bottom upwards, he stared at her beat up converses, her thin legs, her stretched tummy, covered by a baggy top and finally up to her eyes, hidden behind large sunglasses. "Glen," she whispered, removing the sunglasses to show a deep purple bruise around her eye, tears glistening on her cheek. "I needed a reason to come round. I left Adam. Take me back?"

Glen sighed. He hadn't been expecting that one. But then again, you never know what to expect with Amy Dumas.