"Rotate your arm forward, try not to tense any muscles." Kit had a hand on the back of Ryback's shoulder blade as his rotator cuff spasmed forward.

"Kit! Yo, Kit!" Dean swung open the door.

"Wait your turn Mr. Ambrose. There are chairs outside." There was a heavy tone of annoyance in Kit's voice as she brushed him off, not even turning to look at Dean, focusing on her task at hand.

"Mr. Ambrose? Are we back on that shit again?" Dean was rubbing a sore jaw as he spoke, raking his free hand through his damp hair. It had been two weeks or more since she had addressed him as Mr. Ambrose. 'Am I in trouble?' He tried to think of what he could have done to piss Kit off, the more he thought about it the more it annoyed him.

"I can take a look at you." With a finger in the air Kit's constantly overlooked coworker Jon pointed out the abundance of free time on his hands.

"Shut it turd!" Dean blew him off without hesitation.

"Stop calling him a turd, his name is Jon and if you're too good to be checked out by him let me remind you there are chairs outside and you are more than welcome to take a seat Mr. Ambrose." Her teeth ground together slightly as she finished her sentence.

"What crawled up your snatch and died?" Dean didn't understand why Kit was giving him such a cold shoulder.

"Watch your mouth!" Ryback stood up, holding his injured shoulder he planted himself firmly between Dean and Kit.

"Or what you lumbering oaf?" Dean stepped up to the big guy feeling no sense of intimidation, or self preservation for that matter.

"Guys cool-" Kit tried to speak but was quickly cut off.

"Or I'll stick that waiting room chair straight up-" Ryback was also unable to finish his statement as Dean began throwing melee punches, he had already been agitated it only took that childish comment to ignite that spark. Having no problem with cheap shots he targeted Ryback's shoulder. "You weasly little punk!" Ryback slammed Dean into the wall with force.

"Break it up you two!" Kit tried to pull Ryback off Dean but it had no effect in the slightest. " A little help Jon?" Kit called out as she continued her futile tugging.

"I'll go get security!" Jon ran for the door.

"Oh for the love of Cusak!" Kit rolled her eyes.

"I told you-" Dean paused to catch his breath as he continued to thrash and punch at the man pinning him to the wall. "Told you he was a turd!" He grunted in pain as Ryback pulled back only to slam Dean against the wall a second time.

"Hey! Ryback? Ryback if you don't let him go-" Kit let go and rummaged through her tool cabinet. Another thud behind her made the wall shake. "If you don't let him go then as a counter measure, for the health and safety of AHH!" A large palm had taken her face and shoved her into the ground, Ryback had swatted her away, and with no gauge on his strength he had used far more than was necessary.

"Stay out of it!"

"You tell me to watch my fucking mouth and then you push her to the ground? You're a messed up guy!" Dean began to head-butt the behemoth, finally sending the man reeling back wards.

" I'm not the one to mess with street dog!" And Ryback began to charge at him agin but Dean was faster than the lumbering body builder and skidded out of the Rybacks weight against him he pushed the off balance man into the very wall he himself had been pinned again, a dent was created with the oversized head of the giant.

"Get up!" Dean waited as patiently as he could for Ryback to get to his feet. "I'll show you why it's not smart to corner a rabid dog!" Dean's eyes were filled with a spite filled determination to prove himself.

"Dean stop it!" Kit cried out as she finally stood.

"Oh now you remember my name!" Dean's head whipped around to shout back at her. For a minute he forgot about Ryback, looking over Kit to see if she had been hurt in the scuffle. His concern was a weakness Ryback exploited he only needed a minute to get to his feet and tackle Dean now for a fourth time. Dean seemed only slightly fazed, his eyes still seeing red he swung another punch, a sickening sound echoed through the room, he had broken Ryback's nose. Noticing he no longer had the upper hand Ryabck stumbled over, blood trickling from his face, and picked up Kit's medical cart, before he smashed it over Dean's bruised but still willful body he fell to one knee. Kit had slammed a reflex hammer into the back of his neck.

"I said get out! Get out right now!" Kit demanded this time her tone seemed final. "Both of you lunatics get out!" She continued to repeat the sentiment hoping to get her point through their thick testosterone filled heads.

"Who…" With a slight wobble in his step Dean began to regain his bearings. "Who are you calling a lunatic?" He panted as he approached Kit staggering uncomfortably close to her, but Kit did not back down.

"Crazy and deaf?! I said get out." She jabbed a finger into Dean's heaving chest. "You too!" She had not forgotten about Ryback as she snapped at the man lurched over in the corner. Dean chuckled for a minute just staring at her baffled. "I swear I'll call HR on both of you if you don't get out!" At those words Ryback grew wide eyed. Dean continued to snicker, now at the scared and scolded look on Ryback's face, his tongue rolled over his teeth as his smile grew.

" Same old story Ambrose. Always need someone to save your ass in the end." Ryback sneered as he finally relented and left, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Mr. Ambrose you-" Kit's voice was shaky as the adrenalin began to leave her body.

"Really again?" Dean's smile had withered and died instead he bit at his lip hard, his words directed at her but his eyes glued to the door. He wanted nothing more than to chase after Ryback, to prove him wrong, but he was too stubborn to leave with his tail between his legs.

"You need to leave." Her words were now short and quiet.

"Can I get a fucking ice pack!" Dean was irritated, livid. His mind was racing with thoughts of Ryback's accusation, of continuously being called Mr. and his now completely aching body. He grabbed a fist full of his hair, tugging violently trying to release some of his anger. 'Just came her for a fucking ice pack.' His wild eyes looked curiously at Kit, he had wanted an icepack and to shoot the breeze with Kit but it had all fallen to pieces. Dean had been visiting her fairly frequently lately, partially because he always found a new way to get hurt and partially because she usually calmed his nerves giving him a breath of fresh air, but today the complete opposite had transpired, throwing him for a loop.

"D . . . Mr. Ambrose." Before she could tell him to leave she let out a gasp as Dean's fist rose. Looking up at the battered and visibly angry man she was shocked, scared of what the unstable Dean would do next. Dean's fists clenched harder and harder before he slammed his fist into the wall.

"Kit I don't know what I . . ." He grunted the words out in pain before trailing off. 'What'd I do? You too? You're going to cast me away too?' Instead of inquiring he took another route. In an attempt to suppress those thoughts and concerns he pulled his now raw knuckles from the plaster and socked himself forcefully in the face. 'Probably on the rag.' He tried to rationalize Kit's sudden change in demeanor. 'Or she's been listen to all the backstage talk, bastards think they got me all figured out.' He sneered knowing the locker room saw him as trash, as a crazy good for nothing freak, it made his stomach turn, more so at the thought of Kit lapping it all up as fact. First he glanced down at his knuckled which were now red and beginning to swell. As he looked up from his mangled hand he locked eyes with Kit, expected to see her face chiseled in anger, disapproval maybe even disgust, but instead he saw scared sad doe eyes. "What?" He didn't know what else to say, he was caught off guard, for a moment he just stood there moving his throbbing jaw from left to right. To shake the cobwebs loose he rose his fist again.

"Please!" Kit pleaded as she grabbed Dean's fist her her hands, trying to hold him back. 'Why do you keep doing that? Why do you keep hitting yourself? Hurting yourself.' That's why she had been mad at him in the first place. 'Idiot!' Images of Dean's match earlier in the night flashed within her mind. Dean had outright begged his opponent to strike him, then took it a step further and punched himself. "Just stop it ok?" She clenched his fist harder. She knew Dean didn't understand what is was like to have no friends on the road. 'He's got his brothers in the shield.' She tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy. She assumed Dean didn't understand what it felt like to be be ignored and out of place in the workplace. 'He's a superstar.' But despite those differences he had been the only one to really give her the time of day, even if it was in a lecherous way. He didn't understand that it pained her to watch the only person who she was even the slightest bit attached to continue to beat himself down. And despite all her contemplation she couldn't understand why he would do those things to himself.

"Alright, alright-" Her sappy eyes were making Dean uncomfortable. 'Don't look at me like that. Honestly it was better when I thought she hated me. What the fuck is all this? This is too much sisterhood of the traveling pants for me.' He scoffed as if he was too cool for school and finally relented, letting his arm go lax at his side, watching as Kit gave a heavy relaxed sigh, letting his hand go. "Don't start cryin I'm going." He gave a haphazard wave before leaving the destroyed room.

"And I'm the lunatic, talk about mood swings." He muttered to himself as he walked down the hall, trying to analyze what had just happened, it made his head hurt.

"There he is!" Looking up from the floor Dean saw Jon sprinting towards him, two out of shape security guards following behind.

"What's up turd?" He gave an uninterested wave to Jon.

"Sir this man informed me of a violent disturbance is everything Ok?" One guard looked from left to right to see if anyone else was in the area.

"Hunky Dorey." Dean gave an over exaggerated and glaringly sarcastic double thumbs up. The man's partner seemed less than convinced as he looked over the bruised and disheveled Dean.

"Look tweedledee and tweedledum, I'm a wrestler I beat people up for a living. This ain't nothing to write home about." Dean cracked his neck as he spoke. "Everything's under control." Just then something hit him in the back of the head, looking over his shoulder and down at the floor, he saw an icepack laying on the ground behind him. "Bitches be crazy right?" He gave Jon a joking punch in the shoulder and began to walk off.

"What?" Jon was too far out of the loop by now. Dean simply chuckled to himself as he walked.

'Finally throwing me a break Kit Kat, made me work for it though.'Nothin comes easy does it?' In the end he had gotten what he had come for, an ice pack and as the exit doors opened to the he received a breath of fresh air.