Frousin

This fic is inspired by one of Jon Moxley/Dean Ambrose's early promos in which he talks about his little cousin.

Frousin: definition, (noun) a cousin who is also your best friend.

That's what Teensy was to Dean. They were frousins. She had been his only light at a time when he felt like the darkness was constantly trying to suffocate him from all sides. Her existence kept him from drugs, from getting into trouble with the law. While he made sure she ate and played with her at the park, his friends got busted for vandalism and got shipped off to juvie and while he's not a bad guy he's not certain that had it not been that he felt responsible for his little cousin and looked after her that he would have gone along with his friends and got busted along with them.

She had shot into his heart like an arrow the minute he met her. His mom's sister needed somewhere to crash after her latest 'boyfriend' had kicked her out. Although it was supposed to be temporary, Dean knew by now at the tender age of seven that when adults said 'temporary' they meant for the foreseeable future. Dean didn't care for his aunt. She smelled even worse than mom usually did and her shrill voice grated on his eardrums. However the tiny two year old that she tugged in after her with a head of frizzy hair and big brown eyes brought Dean rushing over immediately and staring curiously at her as his aunt and mom introduced them.

"Dean, this is your cousin, Irene, she's going to be living with us for a while so you'll have to share your room."

"Irene this is Dean. Say hi."

Dean softly said, "Hi," not being his usually crazy self because, for some reason, he didn't want Irene to be afraid of him. Perhaps it was because there were no children around his remote age in their apartment complex and he was craving a friend or he thought that perhaps he had found a kindred spirit in Irene. It was probably a combination of both.

Irene, for her part, cocked her head to the side and gave Dean a small smile.

"Wanna play?" asked Dean holding out his hand to his cousin and only after a few seconds of hesitation, Irene's smile grew wider and she put her hand in his as he pulled her into his room. From that moment on, the two of them were inseparable.

Dean, after a few days, dubbed Irene 'Teensy' because he couldn't help but be amazed at how tiny she was compared to him. He was also amused though that despite her size she was a stubborn little thing and would follow him anywhere on the jungle gym. She was convinced that if her big cousin could do it, so could she.

Dean would always endlessly tease her for her efforts but he also was proud of her for her resilience. Plus he was the only one who could tease her. If anyone else dared to say something nasty to her because of her size or another stupid reason, he wouldn't hesitate to knock them to the ground and make them eat dirt even when the wannabe bullies were sometimes double his own size.

For the next seven years, Dean took care of her and she of him. Dean taught her how to brush her teeth carefully so she wouldn't get painful cavities like he did. He read and told her bedtime stories, would let her sleep with him when she had a nightmare or was sick. He would stay home with her when she was sick because she knew her mom wouldn't take care of her properly.

Teensy would scold Dean if he didn't eat his vegetables or if he cursed. She loved to play doctor if he ever needed a Band-Aid from one of his scraps on the playground or a run in with one of the many bullies in town. She would scratch his back when it itched and she would let him play the prince when they played one of their favorite games 'Rescue the princess from the dragon' game even though she hated being the stupid princess who didn't get to do anything except just stay in the 'tower' and look scared. But she obliged because she loved Dean.

However, their world as they knew it came crashing down just a few days after Dean's fourteenth birthday. It hadn't been her fault. Dean would never fault her; she had no idea what would happen. She had been only nine for crying out loud.

Teensy had gotten really upset when one of Dean's mom druggie friends came over when both their moms were out 'working'. The guy had come to get a much needed fix but found just two kids instead. Dean protected her like he always did but after the guy left. Dean could barely crawl much less bring himself to a sitting position. That freaked Teensy out. She had never witnessed her best friend getting hurt so badly. They both cried themselves to sleep that night.

Dean always told her not to tell anyone what happened in their apartment because it was 'none of their business'. But the next day at school, when Irene couldn't stop crying the whole story came bursting out of her when her teacher asked what was wrong. Immediately, she was shepherded into one of the guidance counselor's office and the principal called CPS.

Dean was pressured into telling the truth when confronted with his little cousin and the douche CPS social worker that told him if he cared at all about Teensy that he would tell them everything. So he did. He thought they would understand that he could take care of her. He thought his actions alone proved that he fucking could! But the fuckers didn't see it that way.

They knew of a better place for her, they said. He denied, pleaded, and begged them to at least take him with her. They said it was impossible. He was too old. He would go someplace else.

The last time he saw his Teensy. They had been clutching each other in a fierce embrace, told by the social workers to say good-bye. When they wouldn't let go, they ripped her from his arms. She began screaming and crying for Dean reaching out to touch him one more time. He shouted and cursed, screaming her name in turn and had to be held by four police officers so that he couldn't run to her.

The last image of her, in his mind, was a terrified nine-year-old girl with tears streaming down her face looking at him to save her. But he couldn't save her. They had taken her away. The only good thing he had ever been granted in this life.

Dean sighed as he put his head in his hands as he sat on the edge of his bed. Without fail, during this time of the year, he would always be plagued by those memories of Teensy and sleep would always elude him.

It was now 15 years to the day when they had been cruelly torn apart. Dean always wondered. Where did they take her? Was it a nice place? Was it a horrible place? Where is she now? Is she even alive? That last question, if he was being honest, haunted him the most. Dean didn't know what he would do if he found out that she was dead.

No, he told himself fiercely, she was alive she had to be. Teensy was always a fighter, a survivor like him. She was fine. One of these days they would see each other again. That slim hope kept him going. That and wrestling which he couldn't deny that he loved.

Since he had made it in the WWE, he had hired a private investigator to try and find out what happened to her but so far the search had proved fruitless. But he wouldn't give up looking for her. He would never give up on her.

Dean turned his head as the girl he fucked that night shifted in the bed. Thankfully for him she didn't wake up. He didn't really want to entertain a woman right now and besides he had picked her up for her looks not her conversation skills. He had hoped that a good fuck session would have left him too worn out to think and let him get some rest instead of dwelling on the past. But that just wasn't in the cards for him tonight.

Dean looked at the clock. It was now four in the morning. At this point he knew he wasn't getting any sleep. Deciding to go for a run, Dean silently changed into workout clothes, grabbed his music, some water and keys. Yes, he thought, a nice long run in the desert would do him good.


Irene quickly shut the alarm off and groggily pulled herself out of bed. She always had this struggle in the morning. She initially would hate waking up so early but after she got some coffee in her, she loved it.

Pulling on a jacket and shoes, Irene forced herself out of her warm sleeping bag and tent into the chilly morning air. Jack was already lighting up the campfire for coffee and breakfast. Irene gave him a slight nod as she went into the woods to do her business.

Irene was a rock climber and a pretty hard-core one at that. Right now she lived with her friends as they went from place to place around the country, completing first climbs, exploring and generally loving life. They all had special skill sets that earned them the bare minimum they needed for food, gear, gas, clothes and any other expense that came up.

It was a hard life with few comforts but it was incredibly freeing. For Irene that was what was important: her freedom to go wherever she wanted to go with nothing or no one tying her down.

She made her way back to camp after she finished with Mother Nature's call. A curious sight awaited her. A man was standing around the campfire with Jack who obviously wasn't a climber and stood out like a sore thumb. He was wearing clothes that one would wear to an office and his silver Toyota Camry completed the picture of a guy who was maybe mid-level management of some company or other.

For a moment, Irene wondered if this was a potential sponsor. That would be wonderful! While they were all great rock climbers none of them had gotten much notice and sponsors for rock climbers were not as plentiful as they were in other sports.

Jack waved her over to the campfire as soon as he spotted her. Irene put on a smile instead of her usual morning scowl and walked up to them.

"This is Irene," said Jack as he introduced her to the stranger who was looking at her with a curious expression on his face.

"Hey," Irene greeted as she held out a hand and the stranger took it.

"Hello, are you Irene Moxley?" asked the man getting straight down to business.

Irene glanced at Jack for a second with raised eyebrows, who was this guy?

"Yeah…" she said hesitatingly, "and you are?"

"Oh yes, please forgive my manners," said the man looking a little flustered, "my name is Brian Tarey, private investigator," Brian explained as he handed Irene his card.

Immediately, Irene was on edge. Who the hell was this guy? What did he want with her?

"I've been looking for you for a long time," said Brian smiling at her, "although certainly not as long as my client has."

"What do you mean? Whose been looking for me?" asked Irene now generally confused.

"Your cousin, Dean Ambrose."

Author's Notes: So, this is my first attempt at a story with an O/C character. I would really like your honest opinion about this fic, especially the character of Irene(Teensy). Let me know if you would like me to continue this story. I always appreciate feedback whether it's good or bad.

Please review :)