"Vivian!" Randy singsonged.

She froze on the spot. He did this a lot, but it never got any easier. He stalked her in catering whenever no one was there. It didn't matter how fast she tried to shut down the kitchen every night. He would always find nights where she was alone out there.

"Vivian, oh Vivian, wherefore art thou Vivian?" He chuckled.

Her mind screamed at her to run, but her legs wouldn't move. She shivered in fear when she felt his hands on her hips, and his erection poke against her backside.

"Are you cold, baby? I can warm you right up," he said.
"Stop," she whispered.
"When are you gonna stop playing hard to get? We both know I'll get you eventually, one way or another," he said.

He grinded his crotch against her ass, and her legs finally started moving again.

"No!" She barked.

She pushed backwards as hard as she could, and she actually managed to make him take a step back. He laughed though, that mocking laughter that she hated so much. She tried to get away, but he grabbed her left wrist to hold her back, his nails pressing down into her delicate skin to hurt her on purpose.

"Not so fast, baby," he said. "I want my dick sucked. Tonight. And you're the woman for the job, whether you like it or not."

She reached blindly with her right hand on the table next to her. Her fingers closed around a handle just as he spun her around. She swung wildly and hit him in the head. He went straight down on the floor. She looked at the object in her hand which turned out to be a frying pan.

"Randy?" She asked.

She poked him with her foot, but he wasn't responding. She started sweating and shaking. A loud thump sounded when she dropped the frying pan. Panic started to set in. She had to get out before anyone saw her. She turned around and ran as fast as she could. Out of the kitchen, out of the arena, out in the parking lot, until she collided with a huge body that didn't go down. Instead hands touched her arms, and she flinched back as a reflex.

"Wow, Vivian, relax," it was Dean's voice. "Are you okay?"

He tried with a hand on her arm again, and this time she didn't move back. Dean was a good man. Dean was safety. And right now she needed to feel safe.

"I think... I think..." She stuttered.
"What's going on?" Seth came out of the bus.
"I'm not sure," Dean said.
"Shit, is she alright?" Roman came out too.
"I think I might have killed someone," she said.
"Get on the bus!" Dean quickly said.

He guided her inside, and sat her down on his bunk bed.

"Breathe!" He demanded. "Why do you think you've killed someone?"
"And who?" Roman asked.
"Randy was in the kitchen," she said.
"That fucker!" Dean snarled.
"He wasn't moving when I left. I hit him with a frying pan," she said. "He was trying to... Oh god, I killed him. I should have done what he wanted. I killed someone. I killed him, Dean, I killed him."

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight.

"No, you shouldn't. I know he's been going after you for a while now. Whatever you did tonight, he had it coming," he said.
"We need to go check," Seth said.
"Don't leave me!" She begged.

She clenched her fingers around the fabric of his shirt. He had to pry them free in order to get up.

"I have to," he said.
"Please!" She begged.
"We'll be right back," he said.
"We'll lock the door so no one will find you here," Roman said.

It felt like a lifetime, but they were only gone for ten minutes. The air felt heavy, and she could hardly breathe. They finally made it back, and Dean hurried over to her.

"He wasn't there," he said.
"What does that mean?" She asked.
"That he got up and left," Seth answered.
"Or someone found him," she said.
"Then we would all have heard about it now. No one was there. There was no panic anywhere," Roman said. "We found your bag though."

He held up her bag so she could see it.

"Find the car keys," Dean said while looking at her. "Which car is yours?"
"It's a rental. A light blue Honda," she said.
"Go get whatever stuff is in it," he looked over his shoulder at his friends. "Both of you."

They walked out of the bus, and he turned his focus to her again. He pulled her sneakers off, and patted the bed.

"Lie down, Vivian," he said. "And make room for me."
"Why?" She asked.
"Because it's my bed," he chuckled.
"I don't wanna..." She started.
"Hey, I'm not Randy!" He interrupted. "I'm not gonna try anything funny. We're gonna sleep, and that's all."

She nodded and lied down. She turned her back against him, and moved as close to the wall as she could. He crawled down behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. She felt safe again. Somewhere she heard the sound of the door to the bus, but she fell asleep before she registered their voices.

"You're sleeping with your clothes on?" Seth chuckled.
"Do you think it would be smart to try and get her out of her pants tonight?" Dean asked.
"Probably not," Seth answered.
"About Randy," Roman said.
"Fucker's dead!" Dean growled. "She didn't kill him tonight, but I'll make damn sure to get the job done if he ever goes near her again."