Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Summary: Gazing at the bruises and cuts that adorned his back, as well as his vacant expression, Renee knew that no amount of kind words would ever make this right. ReignsRenee, set after 6/2/14 RAW, oneshot

I am still completely floored by what happened last night. I'm sure this is just one of the many, many fics that are going to be written in the aftermath of last night's RAW, but I just had to try my hand at it. How could I not? I'll give it to the WWE - I never would have expected that to happen. Now, excuse me while I go sob in the corner...


Amongst the Rubble


Renee Young pressed her foot on the gas as far as it would allow her and damned the consequences.

The images from the last few minutes of RAW were seemingly etched into her memory, so permanent that they might have always been there and she was just unawares. She swerved her little rental car around some old couple who were just taking too damn long and continued her mad, mad quest.

Really, she felt like a woman possessed at this point.

It was almost as if she had been the one who had been betrayed. Almost as if she had been the one who had taken those chair shots. But she knew that was just ridiculous - there was no way that she could ever know what Roman and Dean were going through now that...that...

She shook her head, unable to even comprehend what had just happened. And if she was in such a state of shock, she could only wonder how the other two members of the Shield were doing...

Renee could still remember the interview after RAW. Seth had said nothing, his eyes blank and cold, while Triple H just smirked at the camera and said, "I win."

However ludicrous the idea was, she wanted to Pedigree him for that.

The satisfaction of that thought was short-lived, however, when she realized she had already arrived at the hotel where the Superstars and Divas were currently housed. She parked her little car in her usual spot, noting with some smidge of joy that it was left open for her, before bailing as fast as she could manage.

Her heels click-clacked on the pavement as she hurried up the seemingly endless sidewalk to the front entrance of the hotel, her breath in her throat. The humid nighttime breeze swirled her hair around her face. Her fingers desperately wrapped around the front door and pulled and she spilled into the lobby, many other patrons of the hotel looking at her as if she had just grown a third head, considering her state of distress.

Without given anyone else more thought, Renee swiftly walked to the elevator, pressed the button to the correct floor, and was off.

Something about being in that confined space made it worse. She chalked it up to the fact that she couldn't move for, oh, two minutes or more. The elevator seemed to stop on each floor, picking up new people as it went. Renee chewed a fingernail as person after person either boarded or departed from the elevator, a constant fluctuation of people that did nothing to help her situation.

Ding!

The elevator finally opened to the floor she was seeking. Renee was beside herself with getting out of that confined space and to the place that she really, truly needed to be right now. She pushed her way through the cluster of people in front of her, ignoring their sighs and insulted looks, and spilled out into the hallway.

For a moment, she was disoriented, and looked from side to side as if to remind herself which direction to go. It came to her quickly, and she shot off to the left, her heels now muted on the carpet.

Doors passed her. None of which were the ones she was looking for. Renee's heart was floundering in her chest like a dying animal, desperate. After much too long, she found herself faced with the Shield's - Dean and Roman, just Dean and Roman now - hotel room door. Her shaky hand was raised to knock when the door opened of seemingly its own accord. Renee was shocked when she was faced with none other than Emma, the usually cheery Diva looking uncharacteristically downtrodden.

"Emma?" Renee asked, her voice betraying all of the shock she felt.

"Hey," she replied, offering a sad approximation of a smile. "You're here to see Roman?"

"Yeah..." Renee trailed off, her voice sounding oddly small. "You're..."

"Roman's in there," Emma offered. "Dean's...somewhere." She looked worried, but Renee wasn't going to pry. "It was difficult to get anything out of Roman about anything...but...he said Dean might be at some bars..."

"You're going to look for him?" Renee couldn't help herself; the question burst from her without her consent.

Emma gave her a genuine - albeit sad - smile. "Of course."

Then the other blonde was off, her stride confident, her shoulders set in determination, but not before saying, "Good luck."

That made Renee all the more paranoid, so instead of watching Emma as she made her way down the hall, she burst through the already open door and -

The first thing she laid her eyes on in that room was his back, bare and gleaming with sweat and blood. He was seated on the edge of the bed, just staring into space, his fists clenched in the black fabric of his pants. But Renee just couldn't take her eyes off of his back - the way it was bowed almost in defeat, the way the light from the hotel room beamed down on it and made it look almost sickly, the way his inky black hair was tangled in disarray around his shoulders...

And the endless array of bruises and cuts printed on his skin.

"Roman..." she breathed.

He didn't turn around at her voice, but his shoulders stiffened in recognition. She stepped forward, the door closing softly behind her. Renee had planned on being as restrained as she could, but she found herself walking forward with an odd emotion swelling in her chest - anger and sorrow and love and -

"I was going to wait for you at the arena...but you had already left when I got finished with what I was doing..."

Roman was silent.

Renee's hands moved to touch him - and she wanted to so, so badly - but they stopped short, suddenly unsure of herself. What if he didn't want to be touched? What if he jerked away and snarled at her, told her to leave? It looked as if that all-consuming insecurity would never leave her, not even when the one she cared most about was in such a state.

But apparently her mind would not listen to her. After a moment of hesitation, her hands just barely closing the distance between the two of them, she reached out and gently pressed her fingertips to his back, steering carefully away from the worst of what he did. Roman's bicep twitched as Renee examined his back, fingers gently moving over the expanse of skin that was exposed to her.

"Roman..." she said, her voice so small, her throat tight. It was as if she were breathing through a straw. "Oh, I'm so..."

She felt the brush of fingertips as a large hand enclosed around her wrist. Renee looked down and saw that Roman still hadn't broken his gaze from the space in front of him, but at least she garnered some kind of reaction from him, even though it was subtle.

"Hey, Renee," he said.

Renee was so startled by that - such a simple phrase that it should be criminal in such a situation - that she choked out a laugh, which was followed by a few tears as they finally made their escape. With her free hand, she stubbornly wiped them away.

"Hey, Roman," she replied, her voice pitched in an off-kilter manner.

He traced the soft skin of her wrist with his fingertips before threading them through her own. The grip was familiar and comforting to Renee - hopefully it was the same for him.

"I know you're not, but...are you okay?"

Roman chuckled.

"I felt it had to be asked," Renee commented, shrugging slightly.

"I'm glad you're here."

That simple sentence caused the breath to catch in her throat. Even though they had been together for a while, she still found herself taken aback by certain things - like when Roman was so earnest about his feelings.

"I wouldn't be much of a girlfriend if I wasn't."

Roman didn't say anything else, so Renee just stood there, trailing her fingers over the battlefield that was his back, every now and then eliciting a wince from The Powerhouse.

"Sorry."

Roman shook his head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

It was Renee's turn to shake her head, a sad smile on her face. "I'm sorry this happened. It's..."

She trailed off, feeling Roman's muscles tense beneath her careful fingertips.

Roman ran his thumb across the back of her hand, the soothing motion doing enough to soothe Renee's racing mind. Funny how he was the one calming her down, and he had been the one stabbed in the back by his best friend. By his brother.

Maybe it wasn't a time to speak about the wrongs done to him. Maybe this was just a time to stand by him and make sure he knew that she would be there for him, no matter what. No matter if he was a winner or a loser or beaten or bruised.

"Is there anything you need?" Renee asked quietly. And, self-consciously, she added, just to give him the option, "I can leave, if you want to be alone."

"No," Roman replied, his fingers found the pulse in her wrist. She knew it had to be racing.

"Then..."

"Just stay," he said. "That's all I want."

With a sad smile on her face, Renee leaned forward and pressed her lips to his temple, murmuring, "Always."


End.