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*Two Days Later*
Amy was drawn and silent almost all throughout the trip back home. The redhead was so worn out and achy, both physically and emotionally alike. And the way she was feeling these past two horrifying, agonizing days, she couldn't imagine smiling ever again.
She was spent from so much crying. She couldn't recall a time when she'd wept as much as she had upon the loss of her unborn baby. It was incredible, how one could feel so empty and hopeless, and grieve so very much for someone who had never even been born to breathe the air of planet earth.
And empty was exactly how she felt... She'd carried that baby inside of her for nearly five and a half months. Hell, how could she *not* feel empty?
Wearily and defeated, she looked up and studied Adam's profile. Her husband was currently driving, as they were now mere miles from their home. He appeared stoic. No longer was he complaining about the pain of his groin injury. It seemed that, ever since her miscarriage, he'd all but forgotten about that. Ever since he'd arrived at her bedside at that hospital, he couldn't seem to care less about his own physical pain.
She knew Adam was grieving as well... It was tearing him up inside that he would never hold his son in his arms, or play ball with him, or teach him to ride a bike or tie his shoes. Her heart lurched at the tragedy of it... She'd always known how badly the blond man wanted to become a father. He'd wanted to be everything his own father, whom he'd never even *met*, had never been.
The redhead felt tears threaten behind her eyelids as she recalled him breaking down that first time in the hospital. He'd run into the doctor who'd tended to her, and he'd gotten the news from him. And Adam had appeared to be trying to stay strong for her - for *her* - until he'd finally broken down himself and wept as he'd gathered her in his arms, holding her tight. They were no longer that small family they'd been expecting - but at that very moment, they'd felt more like a family to Amy than she could have ever imagined.
Their cell phones had started ringing almost non-stop. Finally, the tall blond man had gotten so fed up, he'd shut his off and tossed it haphazardly into the backseat of the car. Amy had turned hers off sometime earlier. She knew their friends, family and co-workers had been the ones trying to call, to express their sympathy for their loss - but she couldn't handle any of that... At least not right now.
They finally reached the house. The redhead felt a strange, brief sort of elation - she was home. It went as quickly as it came, however, as she gingerly exited the vehicle and walked almost unseeingly up the drive to the front door. All she wanted to do was go inside and to her bedroom, crawl into bed and pull the covers up over her head. It was undoubtedly the blackest mood she had ever experienced in her life.
Branny and Luger were barking on the other side of the door as she pulled her key from her purse. Her initial instincts told her not to even bother with them, but she loved the dogs - Adam's and her boys... She only wished their other boy were still here with them, could have lived to play with Luger and Branny.
"Hi." Amy bent over very slightly to pet Luger for the briefest moment, as she was still in enough pain from the miscarriage to manage anything more. Afterward, and although she felt bad for not giving Branny the same affectionate, albeit cursory, attention, she straightened and headed down the hallway.
Adam sighed tiredly as he hobbled around on his crutches. He muttered a quick hello to the boys before also continuing to the master bedroom. Once there, he discovered his wife frustratedly pressing buttons on the answering machine.
There were *tons* of messages, and most of them were from people expressing their shock, sorrow and sympathy over the accident. Very few people really knew yet that Amy had suffered a miscarriage. The only ones they'd actually spoken to and told were Trish and Chris, Jay and Nora, and of course, both their mothers. Mr. McMahon and even their oh-so-lovely boss Eric Bischoff didn't even know yet.
"Damn it!" It was the first time in what had to be more than two hours that Amy had spoken. For some inexplicable reason, she felt the overwhelming need to erase all those messages. If she had to hear one more apology from someone who wasn't even a friend of theirs, she thought she just might lose it.
Adam propped his crutches up against the wall, his eyes filled with concern as he fixed them on his wife. She seemed on the verge of completely cracking, and how could anything else possibly be the case? He would never know what it was like for a woman, to go from carrying a new life inside of her, loving it, nourishing it, protecting it... Actually feeling it move around inside of her - only to have it tragically and cruelly ripped away, destroyed and dead. How could one ever recover from such horror? He was a *man* and didn't know any of those things women experienced, but he sure as hell felt empty inside, just as he knew Amy literally felt. It choked him up.
Limping over to the bed, up to her, the blond man called to his wife.
"Amy... Baby, forget that. You need to rest."
"No," she denied, shaking her head vehemently. "I need to erase these stupid messages. I need-" Her speech was abruptly cut short as she felt his warm, solid body directly behind her, his large hands going to her waist. She broke down, unable to hold back the tears. "Adam..."
The tall blond man held her tightly, and she turned around in his embrace. Burrowing her face into his chest, she
sobbed for what seemed like an eternity.