A/N: I love this couple and I don't even know what inspired this, but it's here now. Enjoy! :)
Grasshoppers
Summer nights in Nevada were, in one simple word, hot.
Hot in the sun, hot in the dark. But, it was bearable enough for Renee. She could sit in that hot sun all day long if she had the time to because of one thing: the heat radiated from not only the sun, but from her heart as well.
Renee sat outside of the humble house in the middle of the desert and traced her fingertip through the dusty dirt beneath her legs. Growing up in Canada meant that her shift in location was anything but subtle. Her previous life was full of maple leafs, both the hockey team and the image, maple-scented everything, bacon that tastes of ham to the rest of the civilized world and relying on Tim Hortons for cramming in information for exams or interviews.
The one thing that her previous life didn't include was drama.
Drama between other women over clothes, job positions, publicity or men. Drama over whether or not she was a legitimate blonde. Drama over her personality and if it fit her persona within her job. But, most significantly, drama online over her relationship with Dean Ambrose.
Dean's name given at birth is Jonathan Good, but he went by Dean almost instantly after joining the WWE and receiving the character. Naturally, Renee's instinct was to call him by the name he was born into, but he had other requests. Dean grew up in public housing, dropping out of high school and beginning a wrestling career when he was barely old enough to live on his own, so he preferred not to be attached to his past life.
It was the biggest difference between them. Renee could move past her upbringing but always seemed to fall nostalgic when necessary, but Dean was a different story: his childhood and his life before wrestling was nonexistent. Calling himself Dean was the first step in living a normal life without feeling the burden of carrying a nametag with a history of pain written in black ink.
A deep breath escaped the blonde's thin lips as she gazed up at the horizon of the sunset, taking in the beautiful watercolor-like world above her. She would never feel used to the idea that she actually lived in the shadows of those sorts of views. It didn't compare to the fluffy snow that always skipped the States and hit Canada with a blow, but it was a wonder nonetheless. Perhaps one day she would stop feeling so amazed by the sight of the world falling asleep before her, but in that moment it didn't seem forthcoming. Renee just adored the natural beauty of that place.
"I never thought you'd beat me out here."
Renee turned her head, allowing the blonde bob on her head to cascade behind her neck. "It's gorgeous."
"The sky, or you?"
Her cheeks blushed but the setting sun sent shadows that filled her skin, so the redness was unnoticeable. She smiled and reached over, patting the empty space beside her. "Come sit with me. I don't like sitting alone."
Dean didn't hesitate to join her. Squatting down until he was planted on the gravely dirt, he peered his eyes over the sky until they settled on the imprint Renee's fingers had left on the ground. "You drew in the dirt?"
"It's a smiley face," she said with a cheeky smile of her own. "I don't know, I thought it was cute."
"You drew in the dirt," Dean repeated, this time in a definitive tone, forcing Renee to laugh. "I'm dating a five-year-old."
Renee's laugh continued but faded slightly. "Be careful, saying stuff like that. You never know when it'll get leaked and then you'll be facing charges." She, although meaning it to be a light-hearted joke, took it to heart herself. People were always finding things out about their private lives, even though they stretched every right they had to keep it all private.
"Hey," Dean began as he rested a hand on her shoulder, "something bothering you?"
"Nothing is bothering me. It's just...there was another comment. I had to delete two more tweets this morning."
Dean shook his head and dropped his hand down to his side. He shifted uncomfortably because it wasn't the first time he'd heard the stories. He, himself, refrained from using the accounts that the company forced him to create because he knew not only how cruel people could be but because he simply didn't see the temptation.
"You shouldn't pay attention to that stuff. It's all a bunch of crap."
"I know what it is," Renee replied and dropped her head. "It's not that I don't see that it's meaningless but it still sucks to see it all day, every day." She sighed and thought about some of the words people used to describe and insult her; some were crueler than others but they all hurt. "Repeated hate is dangerous."
"Renee..." Dean groaned into the night and paused to listen to the faint sound of grasshoppers in the distance. An idea sparked in his head and his groan turned into a sigh. "Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"That." He gestured to his right, where the sound was coming from. "The grasshoppers."
Renee's eyebrows raised in confusion. "You want me to listen to some grasshoppers?"
"Just shut up and listen to them, will you?"
The blonde's jaw dropped slightly at the harsh request, but she knew that he didn't mean it to sound as rough. He had his own way of making people comply with his directions but he wouldn't hurt a fly if it was defenseless, and Renee was aware of that.
Turning her head and looking past Dean's scruffy face, Renee opened her ears to the nearly silent chirping of insects. It was surprisingly soothing, to hear random noises that didn't mean much to people in literal terms, yet she couldn't help but lose the anxious feeling that had become abundantly present throughout her days working for the WWE and dating a wrestler as popular as Dean Ambrose.
"Feel better yet?"
Renee's eyes closed for a moment before opening again and scanning the horizon for the thousandth time. "Sort of, I guess." The sound did help, it really did, but then once she realized things were better her mind remembered the painful thoughts from before. "But, it isn't like I'm overreacting, right? You get hate all of the time, it's just that you choose not to dwell on it."
"Then stop dwelling on it," he comforted.
"I don't sit in a dark room with my phone lit up under by blankets reading mean comments all night long. But, whenever I feel like posting something online people are always there, waiting for me."
"Renee, calm down."
She sighed and shook her head. "Why do people hate me?"
Dean's heart, although not used to breaking as a result of sob stories, broke. "People don't hate you," he answered. Draping an arm around the blonde, Dean kissed her forehead, smelling the familiar shampoo that was weaved throughout her golden locks. "People just hate the idea of us being together."
"That's worse."
"How is that worse? People just think those things because they're jealous."
Renee chuckled and pulled away from him, allowing her eyes to look into his. "That doesn't make me feel any better than listening to those damn grasshoppers."
"Then listen to them again," he suggested.
"I don't need to listen to them in order to feel better."
Dean's eyebrows raised. "Renee, listen to the grasshoppers."
"Listening to them isn't going to make my problems go away, Dean. When they stop chirping I'm still going to feel the way I feel about us and about everything-"
Before she could finish the thought, Dean's hands wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her speaking mouth forward until their lips were attached. She resisted the urge to fight him because his mouth, when it wasn't talking, was undeniable. He could solve wars with that mouth if he tried to; not that he would ever kiss another woman on Renee's watch.
Without a moment's warning, Renee's repeated anxiety vanished in his arms. None of the comments existed any longer. None of the little whispers she heard as she walked down the street every happened. The only thing that mattered in that moment in time was the man before her, pressing his calming lips against her worried ones, taking away every ounce of pain and anger. It still shocked her that he had that power; the power to solve her problems with the touch of his skin to hers.
After a minute of problem-solving kissing, Dean pulled away but left his hands gripping her cheeks.
"Now," he began, "I want you to listen to the damn grasshoppers."
Renee looked into his piercing blue eyes and saw a reflection of her face. Lines were etched in her skin, reminding her of all the laughs she'd shared with that man. People were always going to treat her the same way as long as she was alive. They didn't care that she was smart and funny; she was Dean's girlfriend. She wouldn't live that down even if it killed her.
But, in that moment, she didn't care. She pressed her head onto Dean's comforting shoulder and reached her ears out to the distance where the insects sat calling.
"I love you," she whispered quietly.
He smiled and kissed the top of her head again, mumbling into her scalp, "I love you too."
There was no way for her to tell what the next few days would bring into her life, but if there was one thing she did know, it was that she loved Dean and he loved her. And, if that was all she knew then she was alright with that.
And so she listened to the grasshoppers sing away in their own language. Their own, beautifully complicated language.
