Disclaimer: I don't on the WWE.

A/N: I wasn't too pleased with the feedback for the last chapter. It was slacking. Thanks to those of you who did bother to review though.


Pour Over Me

Chapter 4: That Which I Have Lost


-Morgan's POV-

I sat on the couch and sighed, my knees bouncing in anticipation, hands busily pushing my hair out of my face. I was trying to distract myself with television but it wasn't working.

I feel like I'm going to be sick. Taylor is in his bedroom, talking to the social worker. Today will make me or break me. This snooty, stick-up-her-ass looking woman is going to decide whether or not I'm fit to raise a child.

Three weeks had flown by and I'd come home for the two days I had off of work to go to Taylor's little graduating from elementary ceremony yesterday. And then this atomic bomb had been dropped on me this morning when she came knocking at my door.

I jumped out of my seat as his bedroom door opened and the woman walked out, Taylor nowhere in sight. Clearing her throat, she shut the door behind her and approached me. Adjusting the clipboard in her hand, she shifted weight onto her other leg, looking her nose down at me.

"I've reached a final decision on this case. We've done some further investigations, and though you were proven clean of narcotics, I just don't feel this is the suitable environment for Taylor." The last part of that sentence just kept echoing through my mind. I could feel my heart thumping in my chest; hell, I could hear my heart! "Taylor needs a parent who is going to be around for him. Troubled children such as himself—"

"Troubled? He's not troubled!" I was freaking out; panicking!

The stuffy woman cleared her throat, fixing a glare on me. "As I was saying... children like Taylor need more nurturing. Your career does not allow that to be possible." What is she saying?! I love Taylor more than anything in the world! I know I'm not around as much as parents with normal jobs are, but I'm just getting broken into the busy WWE schedule! Once it's more stable, I'll have more time to come home!

"He will come with us and stay at the care center for three days before he is put in foster care. If you can find a suitable family member, or contact his father, to take him in, then he won't have to go to a home."

Over. My life is absolutely over.

"No! No, you can't take him! I will take you to court!" Hysterically, I was beginning to cry, pacing the floor angrily and almost pulling my hair out.

The social worker sighed and shook her head. "You can take this case to court if you so choose to. But I can guarantee with the evidence we have here that you will not win this case. Instead, maybe you should concentrate on improving these household conditions."

"What conditions?! What evidence?!" How can there be any grounds for him to be taken form me?!

"We've looked into Taylor's files at school. He is constantly in fights, uses inappropriate language, and despite getting passing marks on his report card, every teacher we spoke to insists he doesn't work to his capability, and all believe it is because there is a lack of supervision at home with you on the road."

"He has a nanny!"

"Which brings me to my next point. Vivica Miles has been arrested for possession of marijuana three times in the late eighties. Despite the long span of time, this is hardly a suitable candidate for a child's caretaker. You clearly did not have her background properly checked before you hired her."

This was news to me. I had no idea Vivica had that mark on her record, though I certainly disregarded it since it was so long ago. But just the fact that I'd not even bothered to look made me realize maybe I should have him taken away form me. Collapsing onto the floor, I pulled my knees to my chest and cried.

"Morgan, I know this is difficult, but until you decide to put your life on hold for your child, as all parents should be willing to do, and prove you can be a fit mother, he has to come with us. Many young mothers have this problem. There are parenting programs you can attend. If you put in the effort, everything will be fine." Her cold exterior was ever-present, but I could see the sympathy in her eyes when I looked up through my tears. "Please don't make this any harder."

Swallowing hard, I mustered up the courage to go over to Taylor's room, where I'm sure he had been listening in on the commotion from me. I knocked on his door after composing myself as well as I could.

"What?" I cracked the door open, peeking my head in and seeing my son sitting on the edge of his bed, glaring down at the floor. Taylor may be young, he may be small, but he isn't stupid.

"Hey baby," I said in a rasped voice from being so upset as I walked into the bedroom, going over to him and sitting down beside him.

Taylor wasn't a crier. He never has been. But the tear that was trickling down his cheek right now absolutely broke my heart. "They're taking me, aren't they?"

That broke my dam. Tears poured from my eyes as I nodded, the truth finally occurring to both of us. He jumped up from the bed, stomping his feet.

"Why!? Why can't you just quit your stupid job and get a normal job!?" I gasped and covered my mouth as he kicked over a box full of some action figures.

"Taylor, you know I can't do that! I can't afford anything for both of us on a normal salary," I pleaded with him. He knocked other things over in his room before standing perfectly still.

"Fine!" I flinched at the anger in his voice. He stormed over to his closet, pulling out his schoolbag and dumping the now unneeded contents onto the floor and pulling clothes from the laundry basket of his folded clothes and stuffing them into the bag before he became frustrated and threw it at my feet.

With my trembling hands I took the bag and began packing it slowly, wanting to waste as much time as I possibly could. Even if he's mad, even if he's upset, I want him here with me as long as I can keep him.

"Don't forget your toothbrush," I whimpered, watching him storm into the bathroom and come back with it. I took it form him and added it to his backpack of essentials. Pulling at the zipper, I closed it and handed it to him, watching as he stomped into the living room and shortly following behind.

The social worker stood at the door, ready to leave as soon as she could and I wished it would get stuck or something... anything to keep him here. "Taylor, you should say bye to your mother before we leave."

I just wanted to hold him again; who knows what will happen and how long it will be until I see him!? Instead of coming up to me though, he pulled the doorknob, opening the door and throwing his backpack down the stairs. "Bye!" he growled before walking out and stomping down the steps.

I didn't think my heart could break again, but it did.

The woman from CPS looked at me apologetically. "He will calm down. I left you information on the coffee table. I sincerely hope things improve for you." And like that, she walked briskly out the door, snapping it shut behind her and disappearing after my son.

I rushed over to the window that faced the lot and saw the two of them headed over to the woman's car, breaking down simultaneously.

He didn't even tell me he loved me before he left.

-Punk's POV-

"Morgan," I said surprised as the blonde walked up to me backstage. I wasn't expecting to be approached by her. I mean, I had every intention of finding her today and seeing if I could somehow redeem myself after I apologized for the rest of infinity. But I was prepared to have to track her down and beg her not to give me the cold shoulder after the phone call a few weeks back. She'd been avoiding me since.

"I was gonna come looking for you..." I was a little taken aback when I really looked at her and saw she was about to start crying. Tears were starting to leak from the corners of her eyes onto her made up cheeks and I swallowed the lump in my throat.

Shit. Something bad happened, didn't it?

"They took him away form me." Everything came crashing down around me. She passed her drug tests! What grounds do they have to take him away from her?! How can this be happening?

I feel like the single most horrible, pathetic, worthless individual in the world right now.

"What?! How can they take him away? You passed all your drug tests! They have no case!" This has to be a nightmare! How am I supposed to live with myself when this is happening?

"Yeah, they have no proof I was on drugs. However, that only prompted CPS to send social workers to my house whenever they felt like it. They said I'm not around enough... an unfit mother because of my job." My jaw dropped as she started sobbing. What do I do? I should hug her, right? But she might slap me across the face.

"They can't take him away because of that!" I opted for keeping my hands to myself for now.

"No, but all the fights he's been in at school... his attitude doesn't help any. And of course, turns out my nanny's been busted for possession of pot a few times twenty fucking years ago! They have the nerve to bring that shit up! She was like sixteen!" Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

"Fuck Morgan... I don't know what to say. Everyone here will vouch for you. I mean, there has to be some way..."I trailed off as her head shook.

"It doesn't matter." Her breathing was shaky as she dug the heel of her palms into her eyes, wiping away some of the tears, leaving streaks of black down her cheeks.

"So there's nothing I can do?" Suddenly, her green eyes got hard and she seemed to lack all emotion as her mouth opened.

"Sign his birth certificate." I choked on my own spit.

Is she fucking kidding me?

"Morgan... I—I can't.... what?" I can't even form a complete sentence.

"You heard me. I'm serious. If you sign his birth certificate, you can take custody of him and bring him on the road with us."

"I'm not.... I mean..."

"Look, I'm not asking you to be his dad! You said whatever I needed. I need this Punk or they're going to put him in foster care!" There has to be some other way to get around this.

"What about your family? Don't you have parents or an aunt or something... what about his dad?"

"His dad left me alone and pregnant for some bimbo he was cheating on me with. He could be dead for all I know and care. And my family won't do shit. They kicked me out and disowned me as soon as they found out I was pregnant. I lived in a shelter for a year and a half." She pulled a folded sheet of paper from her pocket and unfolded it, showing the blank space next to where the father's signature would normally be.

Could I feel any more trapped right now? I know I owe her... but fuck, I did not think this was ever going to be an option.

"Please Punk. Please, please, please," she whispered, eyes glossed with her tears. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack or something. How can I say no? How do I tell this girl that I can't help her get her son back even though it's my fault she was under investigation in the first place? "I'm not an unfit mother. Things have just been hectic since I got hired and we were still easing in. It isn't fair..."

Slowly, I reached out and took the paper from her, my eyes glancing at that blank space, then at her hopeful green eyes, then back to the paper. I swallowed hard, knowing I must be insane for doing this.

"Give me a pen."