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A/N: I just have to take a quick moment to thank all of you loyal readers who were kind and wonderful enough to leave me reviews on the first part of this series. I'm so pleased that you enjoyed it, and I think I might be getting back into my Shield groove after all this time, so I'll try to update some of my other Shield stories later this week. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you like this next installment. I sure loved writing it. ;)

Look, I'm an odd guy, all right?

Yeah, really, I am; shocker, I know. I suffer from spontaneous, spastic ticks, and sometimes I gotta give my head a good slap to snap right outta 'em. I pace back and forth, forth and back, and yeah, I even carry on conversations with myself on occasion. Don't act like you don't do it, 'cause I'm sure you do. It's therapeutic and, usually, I'm the most intriguing person in the room anyways, so I'd much rather talk to myself than others. I'm a loner by nature, and maybe that's why I never should have gotten wrapped up in this whole Shield hoopla to begin with. I work best solo, and now that I'm placing focus back on my own plans, I've almost made a full return to normalcy.

Almost.

I have my eyes on the prize all the time, constantly working to climb my way to the top of the proverbial ladder that encompasses the makeup of the WWE, so I don't like to dwell. That may seem weird, but I'm weird, remember? When Seth did what he did, slammed that chair into our brother's back, I was more pissed and shocked than anyone. I mean, don't get me wrong, he had been pulling away from me and Roman for a while, but I never suspected he would take things to such a drastic level by actually turning on us. I didn't think our personal problems as a group were anything we couldn't handle with a good sit-down talk, so the fear of physical confrontation wasn't even on either of our radars, that being mine or Roman's.

I'm disappointed in Seth, actually, and not even only because he turned his back on the two people who cared most about him, again, that being me and Roman. Naw, man, lemme tell ya what really grinds my darn gears. This kid wanted to destroy me and Roman, wanted to take everything we held dear, and he came at us with a lame ass steel chair. A steel fricken chair, which would be fine, if not for the fact that he literally has access to some of the deadliest weapons in the world, and that's the one he chooses. Like, what's he gonna do next? Run us down in the arena parking lot inside a Fisher-Price Cozy Coupe, like a weak sauce version of what Rikishi did to Stone Cold back in the day? Maybe he'll even stand in the middle of the ring and claim he "did it for The Rock", y'think?

In all seriousness, though, I assumed Seth had a bigger set of brass balls. There were a million and one ways he could have gone in on us, and all he could use was a measly chair. Go ahead and slam it into my back a million times, 'cause I don't give a fuck. I'll still come back stronger than ever, and his biggest mistake was not knowing how fueled I am by pain. Each time that chair made contact with me, stinging my spine and causing my eyes to water, I crumbled on the outside, yeah, but on the inside, I was smiling, laughing maniacally even. This jackass was building me up without even realizing it, and ever since then, my focus has been to take him down, even if it doesn't appear that way all the time.

I may be gunning for other adversaries, searching for my rightful place within the WWE kingdom, but the bulk of my mind remains fixed on the task of knocking Seth down several hundred pegs, and I will someday. And when I do, it sure as hell won't be by kissing ass to The Authority. I'm not buyin' anything they're sellin', and they know that, which is why they've never propositioned me. Of course they went for Seth, because they saw he was the only crack in our group. I've always been strong-minded, and Roman is more of the same, but Seth was the easily swayed kid willing to do anything to make it to the top of a business he had been taken with since his teen years, back home in Iowa.

Pro wrestling is in his heart, but pro wrestling is in my blood, and blood is way thicker than heart...or something along those lines. Ever since what went down, I've had zero contact with Seth, and that's probably how our relationship will stay. I don't need him, and he's made it clear he doesn't need me, so the only contact I'll have with him in the future will be to carry out my long-awaited revenge. Ever since our stable imploded, I've been chillin', hangin' out with other friends outside of the business, and I've even got a little somethin' somethin' going with sweet Renee Young.

I've always thought she was cute, and we meshed really well. I noticed she would give me these sexy little looks whenever she would interview me, Seth, or Roman before our matches, and it turns out I was right on target. She's even admitted to me that she thought I was the cutest of us three (former) Shield members and that she never had the guts to approach me and ask for a date, so she waited in the wings, hoping I would come to her. And, eventually, I did find my way to her, and I haven't looked back since. You have no idea how amazing this woman is.

She keeps me as sane as I'm capable of being, which isn't all that much, but that's still an accomplishment in itself. I had lunch with Roman at some ritzy, high-end place about a week ago, and it was nice catching up with him, but it made me realize a truth I had only been trying in vain to hide from: our bond had been irrevocably broken after what went down. Luckily, I had invited Renee to spend the weekend at my place, because I was going to need her expertise. She always had the right things to say whenever I needed to hear them, so I brought her out on my back patio, each of us equipped with a cold beer, dew drops clinging to the outside of the bottle and wetting our fingers.

Renee sipped from her beverage of choice and placed the bottle down on the tabletop, rubbing her hands together to unfreeze the digits that had fallen victim to the frigid bottle. I scooted my chair over without standing, and it made that obnoxious screech against the patio floor that's basically as atrocious as nails dragging on a chalkboard. Renee cringed and I sent her an apologetic look, slipping my right arm around both of her shoulders. This girl could never resist my charms, and her smile was proof of that. The heaviness of unspoken words hung in the air, so I started us off, because sooner or later, this would all have to rain down upon us.

"Nothing really came out of my lunch with Roman last week," I began. Surprisingly, I hadn't spoken of my encounter with Roman up until this point, and Renee hadn't asked. It was like she somehow knew not to enter that territory with me unless I brought it up first. She blinked rapidly and nodded while staring into the distance, lips pursed together as she wondered how to proceed.

Finally, she found her footing, glancing over at me as she tucked some blond hair back behind her ear. "Well, Roman's always been an important friend to you, and that shouldn't stop just because of what Seth did. It's pretty clear Seth is going through a lot of crazy stuff, so it's understandable that you're distancing yourself from him and not bothering to try and mend things on that side, but Roman shouldn't be punished for Seth's mistakes."

I understood her stance, but I still disagreed. With each row of my teeth unconsciously grinding together, I craned my neck from left to right and sniffed loudly. "Lots of things shouldn't happen. Seth never should have turned on us, we never should have had to suffer for his mistake, and my friendship with Roman shouldn't suffer, but it is, and that's reality. I can't explain why, but shit's just not the same anymore. The Shield is over, and the sooner we all come to terms with that, the better."

Renee nodded and returned to averting her eyes. I could tell by her mannerisms alone that she was uncomfortable with where this discussion was headed, but probably only because she figured she would be met with resistance from me. "Who you speak to is always going to be your choice, but I doubt you would be discussing Roman with me right now if you didn't feel some sort of guilt over pushing him away. He didn't really do anything wrong, and you must have gone to visit him last weekend for a reason. I know you, and you don't give up a pre-planned weekend of partying in Vegas for any old thing, and definitely not to just go have lunch with someone."

"Whatever," I shrugged, picking absently at my nails.

That simple action brought a smile to her face, because she could tell my pain was cause for my defensive attitude. Fine, yeah, I'm wrong about pushing Roman away, but I have to fend for myself. Nobody is going to help me attain all the goals I've been recording for myself ever since I was in high school, and even junior high school. I didn't have a supportive set of parents to push me toward my dreams like Roman and Seth did, but I made it anyway, despite everyone's doubts.

All I've ever had in life was myself, and I figured being alone was the best way to live, so the fact that I was double-crossed by someone who was supposed to be my best friend only reaffirms those beliefs. In the back of my mind, as loving and caring a girlfriend as she is, I sometimes imagine what it will be like when Renee goes away. When she meets someone better, and she will, she'll drift away and I'll be alone again, just like always. I never expect anyone to stick around, so when they don't, it can only hurt me so much, because I expected their departure all along anyways. But leave it to my girl to read my mind like an open book.

"This is how you protect yourself, Dean. You get all quiet and shut yourself off, but I know you're hearing me right now, so I'm going to say my piece and leave it at that. Take it or leave it, your choice," she paused, sucking in a deep breath and starting again. "You've had a lot of unfair things happen in life, and I hate that you had to deal with that stuff. You deserved to have a supportive family and a loyal group of friends who would back you no matter what, and I'm real sorry things didn't turn out that way. In your mind, you must expect Roman to turn on you soon, just like Seth did, and that's why you want to distance yourself, but enough is enough. Everyone in the world can't be held guilty just because of the things a select few did to hurt you."

"People are all the same," I argued, shaking my head. I wanted to send my fist through the core of the glass table, shattering it until it fell into a pile of shards at my feet, but I withheld my ire, allowing it to slowly build inside, just like always. One day, the volcano would erupt and all that frustration would pour out, but until then, I would manage my anger like a good little boy. "They use you for all you've got, and when they're done benefiting off your hard work, they toss you away. That makes me crazy. It honestly eats me alive."

Renee leaned in, lips pressed into a thin smile as she widened her eyes at me. She was trying in vain to make me laugh, and also to make me see the humor in my words, as she proved with what came out of her mouth next. Man, am I a lucky guy; I still have no clue what I did to deserve her. "You know that's not true. People are seriously complex and unique, and those differences are what makes the world go 'round. I know you know that, deep down."

"Roman's hurt real bad by all this stuff, and he wants to talk about his feelings and crap now," I said, shifting uncomfortably in my seat. Whenever emotion became the center of discussion, the end result for me was an allergic reaction, and I'm not making this up. I have an emotion allergy. I literally get itchy, blotchy skin and feel like I can barely breathe. I don't have time for emotion. It's not me. "Look, you know I like Roman and think of him as a brother, but every time we get together, all he wants to talk about is Seth, Seth, and more Seth and I can't take it anymore. Whatever happened is over, and everyone involved should move on. I have, and they should, too."

"Have you, really?"

"Yeah," I said, swatting a fly that decided on buzzing near my face, and generally being a pain in my ass. I could have punched the hell out of Seth for all the annoyance he was causing, forcing me to confront my insecurities and fears like this. "I'm cool as a cucumber, baby."

"Sure, you are," she responded, arching both eyebrows. When Renee began drumming her fingertips against her thigh, I knew she was thinking something, but hell if I could figure out exactly what it was. I felt like she had me under a microscope, examining each and every one of my faults, and I hated being watched like that. She was a scientist, and I, her lab rat.

"Fine, say it."

"Say what?" she asked.

"Whatever it is that you're thinking."

Renee tipped her cute little head and held her hands up in a defensive pose, biting the corner of her lip thoughtfully as she summoned the courage to be truthful. "I'll tell, but remember, you asked for it. I think you care about Seth just as much as Roman does, honestly. When you get hurt, you harden, and I've seen it with my own two eyes. You push people away and pretend to be unaffected, but you're not. Just admit that this hurts you, Dean. The only way you can heal is if you admit that it bothers you, just like it bothers Roman. You're allowed to feel betrayed. You were betrayed, after all."

My face fell, and I knew that without needing to see my reflection in a mirror, because I felt it drop like a hot chick's panties whenever I waltzed into a room. I may have taken that comparison a bit too far, but I'm only trying to get my point across. "I don't see a point in sitting around whining over people who don't give a crap about me. Like, why the hell should I be sitting around sobbing into a bunch of Kleenex while Seth is goin' out enjoying himself? If he can turn his back on us that easily, then fuck him. Who needs a guy like that in their life?"

Warmth enclosed my hand like a blanket fresh out of the dryer, and when I glanced down, I found Renee's hand covering mine. I closed my eyes and soaked in the sweet softness of her skin, wanting to drown in all the good feelings she brought my way. "I understand, but you don't forgive to benefit other people. You forgive to benefit yourself, because it's the only way you can move on from the hurt feelings. Also, and I can't make you do anything, but I really don't think it's a good idea for you to cut Roman out. It kinda seems like you're pushing him away, but just because you guys are headed down separate paths doesn't mean you have to ignore each other."

"I'm not ignoring. I told him we'd still see each other down the road."

"Why 'down the road'?" she asked, reminding me of Roman when he had questioned me similarly during our lunch the past weekend. I'm such a misfit, always so misunderstood. All this trouble I was trekking through was that slippery, slimy weasel's fault, and I wanted to grab onto his stupid, two-toned hair and yank it all out of his stupid head. What a bastard — I meant him, not me.

"Because I don't feel the need to open old wounds all the damn time."

"Ah, so you admit wounds exist," she smirked, giving my hand a more solid squeeze. "I think we're finally making some progress here."

"What the hell do you want from me, huh?" I demanded, certain she picked up on the agitation in my voice. The lovely thing about Renee, though, is that she never gets rattled. If she believes in something wholeheartedly, she will keep at it until her point registers with the other person. In that way, I can't imagine ever dating any other woman, because she's the only one who gets me well enough to deal with that. "You want me to talk about how bad it sucks to think someone has your back when they really don't? Or how about how bitter it can make a person to be screwed over for their whole life by people who should care about them? I may be wild, and I may be unhinged, but it's only because all the assholes in the world have made me that way."

"Dean..."

"No!" I snapped, snatching my hand away. "Enough! I'm done here!"

I caught a final glimpse of Renee's expression before I stalked away, and she was chillin'. Seriously, I could tell she wasn't affected by anything I said, and that's why she's my girl. It's because she understands that even when I act out or lash out, whatever you wanna call it, she knows it's only because I'm damaged. I'm not a bad guy, and I got a heart that beats and feels and shit, but after being screwed over so many times, I don't like to feel. Whenever someone comes too close to stumbling over the truth about me, it sends me scrambling, because if I stick around, I'll eventually have to admit that I'm in pain all the time, or in this case, that Renee is absolutely right in her conclusion.

Fine, I'll even fuckin' admit it for good measure: Seth Rollins bruised my ego and made me feel bad. He hurt my feelings and made me go back on all the good I had thought I finally found in the world when we first became friends. 'Cause that's how it seemed. Here I was, this lanky, eccentric kid who hadn't ever really clicked well with anyone, and I get paired up in developmental with these two guys who get me right away. I've never fallen in line with any two people that way before, but, for a moment in time, I was normal. I was finally normal as hell and could actually stand to look myself in the mirror, because I had friends to call my own and a life worth living.

I mean, shit, man, I'm not sayin' I shouldn't be here to live my life, but after a while, a person gets sick of this bullcrap. As much as I don't want it to, pain starts to turn inward, and I begin blaming myself and thinking that the reason heartache and catastrophe follow me everywhere I go is because I'm causing it. What is it that makes me so unlovable that people can do this shit and not even care? But then, I realize I have to stop throwing myself such a gigantic pity party, because nobody in life wants to be around a downer, and so maybe that's why I'm so wacky and off-the-wall; it's my unique way of coping with the messes that have been made, or at least trying to.

Being different is a standout, and it makes people like me, and it also helps me to forget all that has gone wrong. As I stomped inside my house and slammed the door behind me, I knew Renee didn't deserve that treatment, but in that moment, I was too frustrated to really sit down and apologize. I would get to her later, and she'd forgive me, not because I deserved to be forgiven, but because that's who Renee was. Have I mentioned yet how much I fuckin' love her? Because I do, more than I can express during this brief stroll through my mind. She always sees through the mirages I create to the heart of me, and that's probably why I got scared and ran from her, covering my fear with anger.

It's because she figured out the one thing I never wanted to admit. She knew how deeply I felt for my friends and how hurt I had been by Seth's disloyalty. She knew I was pushing Roman to the wayside, not because I didn't want to be his friend anymore, but because I was terrified he would eventually inflict more of the same damage on me Seth had done, and I didn't want anyone to see that truth. I liked when I had it under wraps, well hidden beneath the odd ticks, inappropriate sense of humor, and borderline psychosis. My insecurities had always been my own, but now they were Renee's cross to bear as well, and it was time to put on the big boy pants and deal.

No sooner had I plopped down on the couch than I heard the back door shut, signaling Renee's eagerness to come to my aid. I spread my arms out on the back of the couch, and the cushions dipped when she lowered onto the space beside me. My eyes fluttered closed when her left hand came down on the back of my neck, massaging all the kinks and stress and everything else built up in there. Words weren't necessary, but she spoke them anyways, maybe because she thought I needed to hear them.

"One of these days, you're going to understand how important it is to let yourself heal from the inside out."

"I'm trying."

"I know you are," Renee answered. "You're not a mystery to me, Dean. I know you."

I have no doubts that she truly does know the very essence of my soul, and she'll wait patiently while I work toward that bigger goal of taking ownership of my true feelings. I wish I were capable of the raw eloquence I should exhibit right now while explaining myself, in making people understand exactly why I am who I am. I don't know if there's enough time in a day, or even a year, to make known why I am the unstable Dean Ambrose who stands before you today. I guess the only point I have left to make is that I hope everyone remembers that beneath every deranged man lies a lost, hurt little boy, desperate to be understood.

In that aspect, I did right by Roman in telling him we would see each other down the road later on. There's plenty of crap I gotta work out on my own before I can be an integral part of any group again, friendship or otherwise.

Perhaps this Lunatic Fringe isn't such a lunatic after all — simply a hurt soul, wishing he could have his two brothers back.

End Part II