Aftermath

"I gotta piss!" He blurted, griping the stirring wheel, ready to run everybody over.

"Man, traffic is stopped. Hop out of the car and go in the woods." Heath shrugs, wondering why this is such a big deal. Practically living on the road, it wasn't the most unheard of thing in the world.

"I don't like going in the woods. And there's a cop right next us. I'll get arrested." He said, gesturing to the cop literally right next to them.

Heath glances around the car, finally spotting an empty bottle. He fumbles for it, handing it over. "There."

John looked at the bottle then looked at Heath. "Your kidding me, right?" he asked, not willing to say he had a shy bladder.

"Listen, there really isn't much I can do about it otherwise. Traffic is still stuck cold, I can take a walk if you need me to." Heath is still stressed out about this meeting. He rolls his eyes when his phone starts chiming with a slightly ominous ring tone. "Hell," he mutters. "Look, I'll go outside and take this call. You do whatever you need to."

Heath fishes his phone out, opening the door and stepping out. The last thing John would hear before the door closes is "Hey, Pops--"

John looked at heath as he turned his back against the window. He let out a breath and fumbled with bottle and his pants, letting out a sigh as he finally relieved himself. When he finished, he put the bottle in the back and buttoned up his pants, waiting for Heath to finish his phone call.

Heath snaps the phone shut and comes back into the car. His face is flushed and his eyes are narrowed. He runs both hands through his hair and throws the phone back into his bag a hell of a lot rougher than he needs to. "You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine now. Are you okay?" He asked, resting his hand on Heath's thigh, stroking it gently in a comforting manor.

"Not really, Pops can rile me up like nobody's business just with a five minute phone call." He sighs harshly, fussing with his hair again, tying it back into a very tight ponytail. "I'll be fine."

John sighed but let it go. The traffic cleared and John drove to his parents house. When they arrived, John turned to Heath. "Remember... re-lax." He said, and got out of the car.

"Easy for you to say." Part of him wonders how John would react to his father. Though after the last person he'd tried to bring over, Heath had sworn he'd never do it again. Hell, even the fire fighters had been laughing at him.

Heath gets the coffee, making sure the bag is in pristine condition. "Let's do this," he says, taking a deep breath.

John smiled, and knocks on the door, his mother answers. "Hi Mom!" He greeted, hugging her. "Oh Johnny, it's beens so long! Who's this?" She asks, looking at Heath. John smiled. "This is my boyfriend, Heath. Heath, meet my mother, Jaime." John said, pulling the redhead into the house.

"Jamie, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Heath, Heath Slater." He switches the coffee to his left hand, dusts off the right on his jeans and holds it out to her with his usual warm smile.

"Its a plesure to meet you Heath." Jaime says warmly. "Make yourself at home." She says before going back into the kitchen to cook. That's when John feels a presence behind him. He turns around. "Daddy!!!" He squeals happily, jumping up and hugging his father.

Heath swallows hard and turns his head, still trying to maintain the same smile. "Hi," he says, holding out his hand again. "Heath Slater."

When his father lets go of John, he firmly shakes Heath; hand. "Jack Hennigan." He said in a scruffy voice. Jack was huge, as in, Triple H or Undertaker huge. He looked down suspiciously at Heath. "Daddy, this is my boyfriend." He said with a smile. Jack nodded and moved forward. "You don't hurt my son, and we won't have any problems, is that understood?" Jack growled, towering over Heath.

"Believe me, sir, I have no intentions of doing so." Heath smiles. He's used to intimidating father figures; after all, his own was a doozy, but it is weird to be on the receiving end. He holds out the coffee.

Jack raises a brow and takes the coffee. "Grazie." He murmurs and goes into the kitchen with Jaime. John turned to Heath. "He likes you!" He said happily.

Heath stares at him. "How can you tell?"

"He said 'Grazie', instead of 'Thank You'. If he uses italian around you, it means he's comfortable with you and doesn't mind you." John said, pulling him to the couch and sitting down, draping his legs over Heath's lap.

"If you say so, then that's great." Heath winces when his cell rings with that ominous tone again. "I should get that..."

John laid his back against the arm of the couch, legs still in Heath's lap, trying not to eavesdrop.

Heath stands up. He holds the phone close with one hand and he's pinching the bridge of his nose with the other, trying to ward off a headache. "Dad, look, I'm a grown ass man, it's none of your business where I am right now. Yeah, I'm sick, there was something off with the hotel food and I'm not clear for a wee- of course I tried to fight it. I talked to the trainers and they-- you what?!" He takes a deep breath, trying to control his temper. "So I need to be in Jersey tomorrow? Fine, I'll catch the late Red Eye tonight and be there in the morning. Oh so you bully the staff into clearing me to wrestle and now you're worried about how I am? I'm peachy, I'm just freaking peachy. See you tomorrow."

Heath hangs up the phone and sits back down next to Johnny.

John raised a brow. "Everything okay?" He asked softly, putting his legs back in Heath's lap.