Warnings: AU/Bottom!Orton/Mild Violence

A/N: We thank anyone who read this and will possibly review.

Chapter: 1

"Randyyyy!" the other slurred, slinging an arm around the slender man's shoulder. It was pointless to say that he had too much liquor for the night, because it was too obvious. O sighed, wrapping his arm around the other's mid section to hold him up. The other leaned heavily against him, putting more than half of his weight on the one holding him upright. He grunted in uncomfort. "You so silent, dude…. You're no fun…"

"Whatever," The younger one muttered, dragging Ambrose with him. It was eerily quiet in the streets, being midnight and all, but the streets in Middle Hampton were always like this since the day Randy remembered. Apart from the sound of our sauntering footsteps, Dean's heavy breaths and the tune he was murmuring quietly echoed through the empty valley. Just ten more blocks, until Randy dumped him at his house. He didn't even know why he decided to put up with this shit, knowing that they only wanted him in the bar were to be their navigator after they got drunk.

Randy's body went rigid, as he heard someone laughing loud. And it wasn't a happy one either, as 'happy' was a word that none of the residents here used. It was sultry, drunken, dry and maniacal.

"Randy?" Ambrose mumbled, half asleep on his feet but still a bit alert on what was happening.

"Shut up," the other hushed him, throwing a glare at his direction before he strained his ears to listen what was going on. Again the laugh was heard, but this time, it was not only one person. Maybe three… or four. Narrowing his eyes, Randy roamed his eyes over the houses. The lights were switched off in every house, everyone was asleep. The road in front of him was dark, and empty. He couldn't see where those people were, and he minded his own business. A drunk Dean Ambrose was not a helping hand, so the better he kept silence to himself, the better they will survive tonight. "Let's get out of here."

"What's goin' on?" He leaned away from Randy, looking around with his hazy eyes.

"Nothing. Let's just go," Randy grabbed his upper arm, dragging Ambrose behind him as he speeded his walk towards his rented house. Ambrose stumbled behind him, but Randy kept his eyes and ears on alert, watching their surroundings carefully. His guts twisted, a nausea feeling taking over him. Something was going to happen, Randy's instincts were screaming with caution.

"Wait up, man… slow down," Dean tried to tug his arm out of Randy's grasp, but the other held on tighter, not letting him out of my sight.

"Hurry up. I don't feel good," cursing inwardly, Randy gritted his teeth in annoyance when Dean mumbled asking if he was sick. He had no fucking idea what Randy was talking about.

The sound of glass shattering rang through the quiet road. Randy fastened his pace, practically running towards Dean's house. Those people were drunk. Wherever they were, they were closing in on the isolated two. Letting Dean go when approached his door step, Randy lifted the corner of the carpet that was spread out in front of the front door and picked up the hidden key. His hands were trembling, partially because of the cold and partially because the knotting feeling in his stomach worsened. He fumbled with the key, trying to unlock the door.

Arms snaked around his waist, wet, sloppy lips gliding on the skin of the side of his neck. "Why in a hurry, Randy? You didn't even drink with us tonight…. At least let's have some fun now…" Grimacing, Randy pulled away.

"Not now, Ambrose. Not now," opening the door, he blindly let his hand roam over the wall, to find a switch. Moments later the living room was lit up. Randy froze, booming laughter reaching his ears again.

"Shut the fuck up, you sorry sons of bitches!" Dean shouted, flipping his middle finger to nowhere in particular. Randy hissed in anger, yanking the other's pointed hand down.

"Ambrose! Shut up!" his heart was racing, as he ran his eyes over the darkened place. He did not want trouble, not now when he was alone. And Ambrose was ruining that for him. He turned around, to see Ambrose leaning against the door frame, half asleep. Pursing his lips Randy went to Ambrose, his eyes scanning the yard once in alert before wrapping an arm around Ambrose's waist and taking his weight on himself again. Dragging him across the room, Randy let his body fall limp on the couch. Taking off his shoes, Randy tossed them to the side. Flashing a final glance at Ambrose, he made his way to the door.

Randy was tempted to stay here the night, just because of that certain feeling inside him but he couldn't. Sheamus was away, and his apartment keys were with Randy. He had to take care of the place until Sheamus came back, meaning, that he had to spend another night alone. Locking the door behind him, Randy placed the key back under the carpet. Knowing that Ambrose owned a spare key in his wallet, he turned and faced the eerie darkness, that he was about to step his foot into. Forcing back a shiver, he moved back to the road. Cursing to himself for forgetting a jacket, he shoved his hands into his jean pockets, trying not to wince at the strong cold.

Only a few more blocks further, and he would reach the apartment complexion. That was if he got rid of the hyena's that were stalking behind him. The sound of footfalls rang in his ear shells. Shoulders stiffened, he was in alert of any of the movements that the little shits would make. Deep chuckles reached his ears. He halted, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Rolling his neck once, Randy turned to face his back.

Nothing.

"Oh, come on," he raised my voice, a shit eating grin spread across his lips at the surrounding darkness. "Stop playing hide and seek and come out."

Nothing.

"What, are you too afraid?" Randy cocked an eye brow.

Something hit the back of his head, hard. Randy stumbled forward, pain shooting through his scalp, one hand going back to touch the abused spot. But his arms were yanked back, folded and grips on them made sure not to let them escape. Still a bit dizzy Randy blinked, shaking his head to clear his vision up. His body went rigid, as his legs started to kick the air in front. His heart beats thudded loudly in his ears in both excitement and anger. A dangerous hiss escaped his lips.

"Calm down," someone cooed, lips grazing the crook of Randy's neck, hot breath fanning against his cold skin. Pausing only for a second, Randy squinted his eyes for a second, to see a few more figures emerging from the dark. Not the average size either, bulky. Gulping hard, Randy only wasted one second. His head threw back, head-butting the one who hold him from behind in his face. When the man grunted in pain the hold he had on Randy's arms loosened, just enough for him to swing his elbow backwards and strike the man's chest. Groaning, the man stumbled back and Randy's knee gutted him. Doubling over, the man lost his balance and fell to the ground.

Randy hissed again, when someone else grabbed him from behind and yanked him away from the man on the ground before he could aim another kick at him. "Get your fucking hands off me!" he struggled, shouting in rage. Then he froze, again, as that certain maniacal laugh was heard. Somehow in some way, the sound managed to get his mind disturbed. He was sure he had heard it somewhere before, but his mind couldn't link a place. His chin was grabbed, and his face was turned to the side, to face a man. His brown eyes were shiny, even in the dark. If one counted out how the man's body looked- muscled and bulky, with tattoos- the dark look his eyes held was intimidating enough for the one to not to look at the man twice.

"Let me remind you that you're the one scurried inside a house after your dear friend dared to insult us, little one," his index finger trailed up Randy's jaw, his hand reaching behind Randy's head. A fistful of Randy's dark brown hair was grabbed, and his head was yanked back. Randy hissed again, gritting his teeth at the man who seemed to be the leader of the crew, as the others stood silently around the two and the person who was holding Randy. "What is this?" The man's voice was curious, as his eyes casted towards a certain revealed spot behind Randy's left ear. "Oh-ho…."

Randy knew that his cover was blown. He would have hell to pay tomorrow, when he would have to face his own master.

"It's Callaway's little Viper," the man grinned widely, as one or two men behind him gasped. "I should've known, though… No one else owns these skulls inked arms," his finger brushed over the small coiled viper tattoo behind Randy's ear again, making a shiver erupt within him. This time, he couldn't hold it back. The other chuckled darkly, his finger repeating the action again just to see The Viper shiver once more. When he was about to do it again, the young one averted his head away from his touch. A flame burned inside him, bright and deadly. "Never thought that someone who was known to be untouchable and fierce could be so…. Pretty."

Randy didn't miss the way the man licked his lips, his eyes darkening as they roamed over his body. Randy's guts twisted to the point where he could handle no more. He had to get out of here, fast. In lightning speed, his leg shot up and kicked the large man in his shin. Ignoring the swear he gave, Randy head-butted again the man behind him. The next few seconds were a blur, Randy's arms and legs moving swiftly and crashing against flesh, he himself receiving a few blows as well. Then he found himself running, running as fast as his long legs could. Never once glancing back, he panted in-between the steps he took, his mind on frenzy. His lungs were screaming for air, and his ribs were aching, as his eyes wildly searched for a place to hide until the gang missed him.

"Stop running before I fucking shoot you," he recognized the voice, it belonging to the one who identified him. The dude wasn't playing around, Randy knew by his tone but if either he stopped or not, it would be the death of him either way. He turned to the nearest alley he could reach for, disappearing from the sight of the hyenas that were chasing him. The little he saw from the faint moonlight was no help. He blindly stretched out his hands, reaching for God knows what and searched for something to grab on to. He could hear the others' voices and curses, the sound becoming louder and louder by the passing second.

For the briefest moment, a thought of getting caught flashed across his mind. Suddenly, he was grabbed, again. Did what he thinks become a reality?

"Shh," someone whispered in his ear, pulling him flush against a hard, muscled body. Gasping, Randy tried to move away, but the arms around him tightened, locking around him in vice holds. "I'm not going to hurt you." For some reason, Randy believed those words. There was something coating those words that made him believe that whoever the person was did not mean any harm. That did not mean Randy trusted him.

Not for one second letting his guard down, Randy statued himself. The man's chest was pressing against his back, the heat radiating off his body being a littlest comfort for Randy in the coldness he felt surrounding him. He tensed, when he heard multiple footfalls. They were nearing him. He pressed back, pressing harder against the other. His breaths became shallow, ragged, coming out faster than before. The one behind him clasped a hand over Randy's mouth, trying to silence the man. He dragged Randy backwards, wishing the slender man would for once stop struggling and pushed themselves into the bypath.

And apparently, they were faced with a dead-end. "We're stuck!" Randy hissed, pulling away from the man and hissing in anger. He couldn't see who it was, but the he could figure that the man was about an inch or two shorter than him, with a muscled built that would consider, over-powering. Again the man's hand clasped over his mouth, pushing him back and with a dull thud, Randy felt his back crashing against the wall behind him. He bit back a groan, clawing at the man's hand. Not that the man was phased even the tiniest bit, no.

"Shut up," he whispered in a harsh tone. And then a moment of silence passed between them, the only thing that reached Randy's ear being the sound of retreating footfalls. It was when a good fifteen minutes later when nothing was heard Randy breathed out in relief. He slumped his shoulders; feeling exhausted all of a sudden. Then he stiffened again. He had almost forgotten there was a man with him there.

"Mmmf fmmff, mm," he tried to pry the man's hand away.

"What?" The man asked. It was as if he had been in another world. "Oh. Sorry," and then the hand was off him, and Randy could breath freely again.

"Why?" was the first thing that slipped out of Randy's lips.

"Why what?"

"Why did you…" he thought of a better word to say, and settled on with "helped me?" he could see the man gently shrugging his shoulders. He squinted his eyes to get a better look at the man, but the darkness was preventing him from it. "You shouldn't have."

"Why?" it was the man's turn.

"Because now I owe you," Randy hissed, bowing his head the slightest bit.

"You don't even know me," Randy could imagine the man cocking an eye brow, giving him an incredulous look.

"I could say the same thing to you."

A moment of silence. "Why were they chasing you?"

"None of your business," Randy's words came out harsher than he expected, but he regretted none. He meant it. Then he turned his back to the man, taking steps towards the entrance of the bypath and slipping out of it to the main alley.

"Wait," he heard the man shout, but he ignored it. "Hey, stop."

"I will pay back when a chance comes." Then he felt fingers wrapping around his arm, yanking him back. Randy faced him, stopping his face away inches from the man. "What?"

"You said you owe me," the man said, and a hint of a smirk could be heard in his voice. Randy prepared for the worst, giving a stiff nod. "I need a place to stay for a few days. Just until I find one to myself."

"And what do you want me to do?"

"Find one… Right now," the man let go of his arm, after giving a squeeze. Randy cocked his head, giving a calculating look at the man for the longest few seconds. The only good thing that comes out of this that he would owe nothing to anyone. But, what this man was asking nearly impossible. It's probably past midnight. No place was available at this time of the night. No one would take in an outsider. Even the office in his apartment complex was supposedly shut down and he would have to wait until morning to contact him.

Except…

For Sheamus' apartment. No. That was not going to happen. Sheamus would be outrageous if he found out about keeping another man inside his apartment. He barely acknowledged Randy, when he was first put under Sheamus' wing by Callaway.

But, what Sheamus didn't know wouldn't hurt him, right?