Author's Note: This is a re-post of a story I transferred from another account. I was inspired by an original story I wrote ten years ago to re-write it with Dean as a main character. This is primarily a male/female relationship with additional male/female and male/male couples featured in later chapters. I packed this story with dozens of wrestlers so there should be something for everyone. It is a modern, alternate universe story that was originally based upon a 2-novel series. I will combine the 2 original novels to make a single, long-running story.

1:

There were so many moments that led up to this day. Some of them I've forgotten, some of them are still as fresh in my mind as if they happened a minute ago. I always play it out like a movie, watching the pictures and people and events in my imagination, sometimes changing the scenes so they fit better or changing what I said or did so it would have a different outcome. Doesn't matter what really happened or what was said or done, because it all happened the way it did.

Today was the day that I would leave my home, my parents, and everything I had behind because I made a mistake for the first time in my life and I was being punished for the rest of it.

I could go on and on about the the moments up until now, but it would probably just sound confusing. To sum it up in a simpler way, I was a seventeen-year-old high school student raised by overly religious and sexually repressed parents. I knew what they considered the ultimate sin and yet I couldn't stop myself when I met the first guy who paid attention to me.

Seth Rollins was a nice guy with amazingly soft blue eyes and a pocket protector. He said hi to me once, and I couldn't get over that damned perfect smile that seemed to magnify when he looked at me. My parents will tell you differently, but the fact of the matter is that I jumped Seth. He confessed that he had been with one girl before me, and I confessed I hadn't been with a guy and I needed someone to try things on. We shared a night together that was at least for me a painful, awkward, and mostly embarrassing experience.

I knew enough to understand the consequences of sex, besides that I would be damned for all eternity like my parents wanted me to believe. I told Seth to use a condom and he did. Turns out fate decided that my first and only act of rebellion would be met with the ultimate consequence, and after getting sick and missing my period, I hitched a ride to the next county to find a doctor who wouldn't tell my parents and he revealed the ugly truth: I was pregnant.

Sadly, even a doctor in another county has no meaning for privacy in small towns. My parents got wind of the tragedy. I told Seth what happened before anyone else did, and he was willing to help me and even marry me if it came to that. My father was just so irrationally angry and he turned everyone against Seth. He and his parents were driven out of town. I thought I would never see him again and it broke my heart.

Hefram Chapfield is my father. He's a buzz cut, brown eyed, straight-faced religious type complete with the dark clothing, the permanent stink eye and the tall looming figure. My mother Abbey has the same long brunette hair, sleek features and brown eyes that I do. I always thought she could've been a journalist or a photographer, not the quiet and innocent wife of a man that everyone in our religion feared, and everyone non-religious in our town despised. He always said pessimistic things about everything, and frankly I never got along with him, nor did I really see him as a father to me. The only time he ever said anything nice was when he told my mom, "That dress defines your figure as less plump than the other things you wear."

I had no other family, except for my uncle that came to visit when I was a kid. He was my father's brother, Trumbly, his name equally as odd as his personality. I always wondered what my grandparents were thinking when they picked their kid's names. Trumbly was pessimistic like my father, but not as religious and daunting. Trumbly had soft green eyes which I found to be more appealing and trustworthy than my dad's. They were brothers but Trumbly was the opposite of my father. Trumbly worked for the traveling Carnival.

Trumbly & Reinhearst was a Big Top Carnival. It was created by my uncle and a business partner in the early 1970s, and even though modern times don't speak to the Carnival world like it did back then, apparently my uncle made enough money to matter because my father's strict religious and personal views were minimized when my uncle visited, and I noticed that our money troubles always got better for several months after he left.

My uncle wasn't outwardly strange, if you didn't count his 6'5 stature an oddity, but he still gave himself the Carny Freak title because he had an extraordinary talent for imitating just about any sound known to man. He was also good at imitating voices, much to my amusement as a little girl, and he would tell me stories at bedtime about some of the wild adventures he got into and the amazing people he met. He never once brought those people to visit me, probably due to my father's insistence.

When I turned fourteen, my uncle stopped coming to visit, but whenever we struggled, the bills suddenly got paid. I don't know if my father talked to my uncle about what had happened to me, or if the decision was made spur of the moment, but five months into my pregnancy, my parents sat me down and my father explained that I was an abomination and I would be sent to live with Trumbly. My father hated follow-up questions so he usually answered before anything could be asked, but he made no mention of how long I would be gone, and that was a very obvious sign to me that my new location may be permanent.

I lived in Georgia, and my uncle lived in Tennessee, so the car ride up there was a long one filled with awkward silences and frequent bathroom trips on my part. I cried in the stall at one of the gas stations. That was all the emotion I could spare for leaving my parents, my school, and my life behind. I didn't have any real friends to write back to. I didn't have much to show for an education either, and I was actually kind of excited to be with my uncle. My father apparently saw this idea as the worst punishment he could possibly give to me, and I let him believe that because I didn't want to know where else he would plan to send me.

My uncle had a nice house at the end of a really long dirt road in the middle of nowhere. He used to tell me that he needed lots of rooms in his mansion because traveling Carnies stayed with him all the time. He never told me, but I learned from researching on the library computer that Carnies were usually made up of homeless people that were banished by or running away from their families, and I liked to think that my uncle took those people in and gave them a life where they were accepted. I wondered what they would think of me, being an outcast like them. Would they hate me for not being a talented show-person like they were? Would they banish me too? If there was anyplace I wanted to belong, it would be with my uncle, because he was all the hope I had left.

When my father pulled up to the big white house it was humid, quiet and drenched in shadows from the giant Willow trees around it. I kind of felt like I was on a farm, except that the house looked decent despite its old age and the yard was fairly well kept. When I got out of the car, I saw an elephant in the yard chained to a rusted iron pole, and I noticed a giant clown shoe was hanging out of one of the windowsills at the side of the house. There were a lot of trucks and old caravans off to one side, some of them looking like they didn't run anymore. I also noticed a portion of a Ferris Wheel sticking out of the ground a short way from the house. It looked broken and rusted but there were several tool boxes scattered around it like it was being repaired.

"Liz! Oh Liz, welcome!" Uncle Trumbly shouted from the front door.

I hadn't realized he was even standing there until he yelled. He looked like a tall and lanky alien as he rushed down the ten front steps and scooped me up into an awkward bear hug. I was only 5'5 and pregnant, so I felt like a fat puppy underneath his huge hands. He smelled like onions and engine oil that had been sitting in the sun too long. It was a nice breath to take in for me, not because it was particularly pleasant but because it was something different.

Trumbly put me down and shook hands with my father, then he shook hands with mother. I hadn't really thought about it until then that he never hugged my mother. She smiled and quickly took her hand away. Then, she looked down at the ground like she regretted that he hadn't hugged her. I wondered if my mother was as desperate to be touched as I was when I took my first kiss from Seth in exchange for letting him do whatever he wanted to me. It sounded dirty at the time, but Seth really didn't have a whole lot of ideas on what he wanted to do, and he was too worried about me to think of anything too wild.

My father leaned in and whispered something to Trumbly that I didn't hear. I was sure it was probably something along the lines of, "Take care of her. Don't let her sin. When she gives birth to the bastard child spawn of evil, make sure it goes to a barren but loving family and don't let her lay eyes on another male until she's married."

I was actually a little surprised when my father took my suitcases out of the trunk, placed them on the steps, and took my mom back to the car without talking to me or staying for a while. Trumbly didn't seem the least bit confused by it, so I assumed my father did have some underlying unease toward his own brother and kept him at arm's length. My father got into the car without looking at me or saying good-bye, but my mother stopped and turned to face me. She smiled warmly for a few lingering seconds before she got in the car, and I think I saw her wave to me before my father pulled away. I was suddenly aware that I was being left alone wearing nothing but a faded oversize pink dress and carrying two suitcases stuffed with old clothes and wrinkled underwear.

"Let's get you inside before it rains," Uncle Trumbly stated, grabbing my suitcases. I looked up at the sky, but there was barely a cloud. My uncle's pessimism was different from my dad's in that Trumbly was almost funny when he made unappreciative statements that normally didn't make any sense and weren't directed at anyone in particular.

I followed my uncle inside and found once I got through the door that the place was between a cluttered mess and middle class housing. I could smell some casserole from the kitchen to my left, but when I glanced through the open doorway, I could only see the dining room. It was complete with a huge wooden table and dozens of chairs. Some of the chairs were around the table and other chairs were lined up along the wall. Straight ahead was a large winding flight of stairs. To my right was a family room with a giant flat screen—the only thing in the room that looked new–and a huge brown couch covered in various cross-stitched and quilted blankets of all colors and sizes. I noticed the TV was on in the family room and there were three little people watching it. I thought they were children until I noticed the man in the center had a cane and the woman to his right was wearing a pair of white silk lady gloves.

Trumbly was already halfway up the stairs and I attempted to follow him as quickly as possible without hurting myself. Trumbly turned abruptly to the right at the top of the stairs, and I had to glance around as fast as possible to take in everything. There were probably two dozen rooms on the first floor. Most of the doors were closed, but I could hear some muffled classical music coming from one and I was sure there was a hissing sound coming from another.

"Move fast, move fast! Don't want you to be late, now," Trumbly hurried me along by once again using his illogical pessimism as if we really were missing out on something.

I immediately smelled incense when he reached the end of the hall of doors on the right side and Trumbly turned sharply to the left. I suddenly found us entering yet another hallway. There were a dozen rooms on either side of this hall as well, but they were all much darker and quieter and I wondered if anyone even lived back here. Trumbly reached the end of the hall and started up what should have been a flight of stairs but the stairwell had been converted into a dark blue ramp with a sketchy wooden railing. It was sturdy but kept me at an angle when I walked up after my uncle. He reached the single dark blue door at the top of the ramp. There was an peep hole on the door. I found that odd since I hadn't noticed a peep hole in the other doors we passed.

Trumbly knocked twice and I noticed his hand was shaking a bit. I observed some gray hairs on the side of his short blond cut and it made me realize that time was catching up with him.

"Dean, my niece is here!" Trumbly shouted, then he opened the door without waiting for this Dean person to come and open it for him.

There was a strong rush of hot air when my uncle opened the door. I almost fell backward from the strength of the heat and humidity when I stepped inside. The room was musty even though there were three wide open windows to the left. I saw two beds on either side of the room, one framed with cheaper old metal that leaned a little to one side and one with more sturdy black iron. The beds were made with old quilts and two pillows each. Trumbly moved swiftly to the iron bed and put my suitcases down on it.

I noticed an open door across from the cheaply framed bed that led to a bathroom. I could see the shower curtain from where I was standing. I noticed the shower curtain was also blue, and I wondered if this Dean person really liked that color. There was an antique vanity dresser against the wall to my left with a huge mirror and an odd display of makeups and powders on one side. There were combs, razors, shaving cream, towels and two blow dryers on the other side.

I breathed in through the humidity and caught the scent of water. I also realized at that moment that some of the heat was coming from the open door of the bathroom, like someone had just taken a shower. My uncle breezed past me and stated before he left me alone, "Got paperwork to do and no time to do it! Supper is at eight!"

He slammed the door shut before I could ask him what time it was now. Judging from the hot summer sun still perched high in the sky out the window, it would be hours before I saw a meal. I clutched my stomach and wondered if I should've told Trumbly I hadn't eaten anything. I sat down on the side of the iron bed and a male voice from the bathroom called out to me, "You Liz?"

The voice sounded thick and handsome. I couldn't help but find it humorous that my uncle would choose to leave me with a male when my father probably proclaimed that I should be isolated and away from all human contact. I answered the voice, "Yes, I am."

A man did step out from the bathroom, and at first, I thought he was in costume.

He was completely covered from head to toe in long, thick brown hair, except for the outline of his lips and his pair of big blue eyes. I knew he was completely covered because he was totally naked, but I couldn't see anything indecent under all that hair as he walked over to the vanity and grabbed a brush. His hair was mostly dry except for the top of his head and he used the brush to settle the stray mess. He proceeded to brush his chest and shoulders, and I knew for sure he wasn't wearing a costume.

I watched him while I moved my feet in circular motions so they wouldn't swell. In certain parts of the room, when the light was hitting him just right, the man my uncle called Dean could actually be seen underneath his body of hair. He was very well built in front and from what I could see of his backside. He caught me looking and turned to face me, asking, "Does it bother you? I could put something on."

He sounded like I had every right to be agitated with him. Like people told him all the time he was an anomaly of nature and he shouldn't expose himself. His concern seemed more appropriate to the massive amounts of body hair than to the fact that he was by all technical terms naked. I shook my head and asked, "You have that condition, right? Where the hair grows all over the body?"

He didn't seem upset that I was asking the obvious, but answered kindly, "Yeah. Don't call me names like Wolf-Man or Animal or any of that crap, 'cause I get enough of that from the general public."

I nodded that I understood and Dean opened a drawer from the vanity. He pulled out a pair of jeans to put on and asked, "Want me to show you around?"

"Yes!" I answered excitedly.

:-:

I was thinking Dean would introduce me to everybody and we'd venture into every room of the mansion, which sounded more fun than sitting upstairs until dinner, but Dean's idea of "showing around" wasn't all that exciting. He started with the floor just before our room where I thought very few people were staying.

He took me into one of the rooms with a broken and rusted letter B hanging off to one side of the dark green door. When we entered, I saw a small bed in the corner and an end table with a basin and a broken mirror on the right side. An ancient looking man sitting in a rocking chair by the slim open window to the left was almost unnoticeable. The man didn't turn to face us, nor did he even seem to be aware that he was alive.

"This is Paul Bearer. He was like, some legend with burying himself alive and coming back in the thirties. He accidentally blinded himself in an accident on stage and set fire to his tent, killing three people and his own wife. He went into this trance like state and hasn't been out since."

I gasped and thought of how awful it would be to kill somebody you love, when Dean snickered at me and said, "I'm just kidding. He's blind because of cataracts and I think his wife died of pneumonia or something."

Dean received a spiteful glare from me, which only made him laugh again, but Paul didn't look our way, so I asked, "Is he really in a trance?"

Coming to sit on Paul's bedside so he could get a better look, Dean answered, "Yeah, from what anyone can tell. Trumbly thinks he had a stroke or something, because Paul just woke up one day and he was like this. I heard he really was a legend with getting out of coffins, but I never got to see his show. Trumbly swears Paul really could beat death, like he had made a deal with the devil or something."

I observed Paul from the opposite side of Dean, and I could see the old man was completely unaware of our presence by all outside appearances. I mentioned, "Maybe he needs to get some."

Dean snorted and asked me, "What?!"

"This girl at school, her mother worked in a nursing home, and her mother would say that the old men were either really raunchy or totally catatonic because they didn't get any," I explained.

"You do know what any is, right?" Dean asked, leaning forward.

I scoffed and pointed at my belly while shouting, "Of course I do!"

Dean observed my point and went on, "Well, I'd get him a lady, but the ladies don't really like me."

He glanced down at his long haired body. I thought he looked like a handsome werewolf, but I didn't say it out loud.

Trying to make Dean feel better, I sighed and replied, "I would do it with Paul, but getting any is the whole reason I'm here."

Dean forgot about his self-esteem for a minute and gawked at me, asking, "You would do it with a thousand-year-old man?"

I shrugged, saying, "He's not that old! Besides, I don't want to be one of those choosy snobs."

Dean smiled at me, and I got a sense that he was really warming up to me. The moment was about to turn cheesy so I blurted out, "Oh my God! I have an idea!"

I stepped in front of Paul's line of vision. Dean watched me intently while I explained, "Maybe Paul just needs a look and he'll be fine. I'm like, huge right now because my top is growing with the baby!"

Dean made a confused expression and I pulled down the straps of my dress and my bra to reveal my overly developed upper half. I had noticed the drastic change in top size as the baby was growing. With not much to show before and now having what the guys at school referred to as a "decent rack" made me want to show it off to someone, even if it were a catatonic old man.

There was a long minute of silence where Dean's eyes nearly popped out of his head and his mouth dropped open almost to the floor, but Paul didn't make a move.

"Damn it! He's not doing anything," I stomped my foot and frowned.

"Sweet," Dean sighed, smiling broadly while he checked me out.

I saw Dean's big blue eyes consume me like a steak dinner and I covered up, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Dean cleared his throat and composed himself, saying, "Sorry, I shouldn't have been staring at you like that."

I was about to tell him it was no big deal when Paul burst into a fit of dusty laughter. Dean and I forgot about our awkward moment and starting laughing with Paul. He didn't get up and move but just kept laughing, and after over a minute of constant guffaws, Dean and I looked at each other like maybe we had made a mistake.

Dean stood up and took me by the arm, leading me out of the room. I asked when we were safely in the hallway again, "Is he going to be okay?"

"I think so," Dean said as he closed the door, but we could still hear Paul's muffled laughter as we walked away.

"I want you to meet Naomi," Dean said, and he led me down to the end of the hall.

He knocked on another blue door that was heavily damaged. It looked like someone had tried to expand the frame from the sides and built a handmade version of a door to put in the rounded out frame. When a woman's voice said, "Come in," and Dean opened the door, I saw the reason for the expansion.

This room had no obvious furniture, just an open window to my left. The reason was that most of the room was filled with person. A person, to be exact. The dark skinned woman with a lovely smile and even lovelier eyes was larger than any person I had ever encountered before. There were signs of a bed underneath her and she was wearing a beautiful floral dress that covered most of her body except for her face and arms.

"Naomi, this is Trumbly's niece Liz," Dean said, motioning to me.

I glanced back at him, and Dean stepped off to one side to let Naomi get a better look at me. I noticed that he was still acting a little awkward since I had caught him staring at me in Paul's room.

"Hello, child! Come and give Naomi a hug," she said.

I happily stepped forward and Naomi enveloped me in a warm hug. Being up close to her, I could smell the scent of daffodils, and I noticed that she was wearing some lipstick and blue eye shadow. She let me go and observed me up and down, saying, "Aw, you look very beautiful, girl!"

My cheeks grew hot as I admitted, "Actually, I just feel kind of fat."

Naomi and Dean both looked at me, and I realized my condescending words. I tried to correct myself, saying, "I mean, not that fat is bad...I just...I don't..."

"Don't try to correct yourself, I know what you mean! Such a shame your parents would abandon you over a miracle of life," Naomi said kindly.

I smiled and remarked sarcastically, "Yeah well, my dad believes that if that miracle of life is done out of wedlock, it's not a miracle at all."

Naomi shook her head and clicked her tongue, saying, "Well now, you won't find that kind of treatment around here, Liz. Anyone treats you any less than a miracle, and you come straight to me or Dean here, and we'll set 'em straight."

Dean smiled at Naomi, then looked away when he caught me looking at him. I was imagining what it would be like to have him as a personal bodyguard. It felt nice.

"We should go now, I've got some more stuff to show Liz," Dean said, and he took me by the arm again, gently leading me out.

I waved good-bye to Naomi and she called to me, "Come back and see me now, 'lizabeth! I love hearing all the gossip going on around here!"

When we were out in the hallway again, I asked Dean, "What did she mean when she said you would set people straight? Would you like, kick someone's ass if they called me names or something? Are you some kind of a black belt fighter or a self-defense know-it-all?"

Dean laughed under his breath and answered mysteriously, "I guess you could say that."

I became more interesting, asking, "Really? You could beat someone up for me?"

Dean just started laughing and wouldn't answer me. He seemed to be more amused by my intrigue than anything. We reached the end of the second hallway and I looked over and noticed a young woman about my age standing at the top of the stairs. She was beautiful, with long curly blond locks, a set of piercing eyes and one unexpected thing: She had a long and braided beard.

Her beard stood out against the teal ballroom dress she was wearing. At first glance, I thought she was wearing a necklace of some kind, so I concentrated a little too closely. Her piercing eyes narrowed sharply. She shouted at me from where she was standing a few yards away, "What the hell are you looking at?!"

I was startled by her tenacity and I took a step back. Dean told the girl in a more irritated tone, "Charlotte, this is Trumbly's niece, Liz. He told us she was coming today and she's never been around people like us before, remember?"

Charlotte softened up a lot when Dean spoke, and I noticed that she had some feelings for him. I didn't get to look at Dean to see whether he shared those feelings or not before Charlotte started on me again, "She was staring at me like I'm some kind of a FREAK!"

Dean scoffed and replied, "Charlotte, we are freaks."

She pointed at me demonstratively and wailed like a true soap opera star, "I am NOT a FREAK when I'm NOT working, and I REFUSE to be looked at as such in MY OWN HOME!"

"I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to offend you. I just thought you were wearing a necklace," I tried to recover.

That only made Charlotte more upset, and she countered quickly, "Oh, so you are so put off by my beard that you would rather it be something else?! Is that it?!"

I shook my head, but couldn't come up with the words to stop Charlotte's onslaught. Dean sighed heavily and replied, "Charlotte, you're putting words into Liz's mouth. Miz told you to work on that in our last group session."

Charlotte ignored Dean and put her hands on her hips, shouting, "Oh great! Now she's going to think I'm an unstable freak because I go to therapy!"

"What? No! I..." was all that would come out of my mouth.

Dean took me by the arm and pulled me away with a little more strength than he had been using before. I followed him with no problem, not wanting to hear Charlotte continue her tirade against me. When we were safely back down the hallway, Dean said, "I think that's enough showing around for one day. You'll be meeting most of the folks here during supper anyway."

He didn't sound very excited when he said that, and I began to wonder what was in store for mealtime with a house full of such diverse and sometimes overly sensitive people. Maybe my father was right, and this place was the worst punishment he could've dealt.