[PROLOGUE 3:MORE THAN A MEMORY ]

People say she's only in my head
It's gonna take time but I'll forget
They say I need to get on with my life
What they don't realize

Is when you're dialing six numbers just to hang up the phone
Driving cross town just to see if she's home
Waking a friend in the dead of night
Just to hear him say "it's gonna be all right"
When you're finding things to do not to fall asleep
Cause you know she'll be there in your dreams
That's when she's
More Than a Memory

Took a match to everything she ever wrote
Watched her words go up in smoke
Tore all her pictures off the wall
But that ain't helping me at all

More Than A Memory, Garth Brooks

He woke up in the middle of the flight. The music had stopped, his phone had died. And he growled when he read the only messages that Mandy sent to him, getting frustrated. Deep down, he knew that he deserved everything she threw at him and then some, but he couldn't help but be angered by it, feel betrayed by it.

She'd fucking promised him. She'd never leave him, she'd wait for him, always, no matter how long it took. Of course, that'd been before he left her, but..

A promise was a fucking promise, was it not?

But the more he sat there, thought about it, the more he came back to the conclusion, deep within what was left of his sane and rational mind, that he'd left her high and dry more than once. And what they'd been through back then, together, well, it'd been hell. So when he'd left, he thought he was doing her a favor, getting away from her.

But it still hurt like hell that all they had, everything they'd been to one another, it all came down to this. Rude tweets and ignored texts.

"I'm fuckin kiddin myself if I think this is gonna go well." he said as the pilot announced that they were about to land in Ohio. He looked at his watch, impatiently. Parts of him wanted to go back, but parts of him were compelled by this new obsession, fixing this with her, with Mandy. Or at least trying to.

Surely, she fell in love with the real man, she could love him like this, couldn't she? He grabbed his bags, stepped off the plane, flexing his shoulders, his neck tense from the flight. His eyes scanned the airport, hoping he'd catch a glimpse of her, but he found noone waiting on him.

He sighed, grabbed his luggage from baggage claim and hailed a cab, looking at the address that he'd gotten on her, from google the night before.

"If she won't come to me, then I'll just go to her, god damn it. But she's not gonna fucking get by with ignorin me." Dean said calmly, a smirk filling his face as he raked his hands over his hair, got into the cab.

O.o.O

Mandy stretched, growled when she heard knocking and yelling from her porch. Then a few moments later, the front door opened and he stepped in, dangling her spare key, raising his brow at her. She leaned in the doorway of her den, wearing a t shirt, some panties, a lit cigarette dangling between her fingertips, eyeing him with a hardened scowl.

"Get the fuck out of my house, Jonathan Good. I don't fuckin want ya here." Mandy said as she shoved past him, shut the front door, turned on the radio in the corner.

Dean looked around the room, noticed all the alcohol bottles, noticed all the paintings she'd done since he'd been gone. "Now that's not a way to talk to the man who was almost ya husband." he said quietly, as he gripped her wrist, turning her, making her look at him, holding her gaze before asking, "What the fuck did ya do that shit to ya hair for?"

"Blondes have more fun, Jonathan. And I like to have fun." Mandy said dryly, as she flicked her ashes into an almost full ash tray, and looked at him. The knot in her throat grew. Yeah, nothing like your ex fiance walking back into your life to make you tense, unsure, angry and hurt, all at the same time.

"Looks good." Dean said after a few moments, reluctantly releasing the grip on her wrist. "Ya ain't eatin." he said as his eyes danced over her body.

" I am so. What the fuck are ya even doin here, Jonathan?" Mandy asked, her temper getting short for a moment, as she uncapped a bottle of tequila, took a long sip and wiped her lips, wincing at the burn.

"Came to see ya." Dean said casually before adding, "I go by Dean Ambrose now."

"I don't give a shit if you go by E.T. Ya name is Jonathan Good." Mandy said with a disinterested sneer as she leaned in and said "Aww. Someone gettin mad because I ain't afraid of him like those other little weak ass bitches he's known for tormentin? Gotta hand it to ya, Jonathan.. Ya definitely got a type. Trashy, blonde and mouthy."

"Maybe it's because I never could control or replace ya." Dean said as his hand went to her cheek, only to be swatted away a second later with her saying, "Don't fuckin dare touch me again, Jonathan Good. Ya gave up any and all rights to touch me when ya walked out on me two hours before our god damn wedding."

"We were fuckin kids, Mandy. Ya had to know it wasn't gonna last." Dean explained impatiently, as he sighed and sat down before continuing, "Besides.. There was too much shit gone wrong.. And I am not a good guy."

"There was.. But we coulda worked on it, faced it together, but guess what? Ya fucking ran. I needed ya, and ya fucking bitched out on me. So look.. Memory lane and my legs are closed, Good, Ambrose, whatever the fuck ya call yaself these days.. Just fucking leave. Now."

Dean looked at her, biting his lip, trying to keep from exploding in rage. But when she got up and opened the door, pointed him out, he glared and stood, calmly walked over to the door, slammed it shut. "I ain't leaving."

"The fuck ya won't. I'll call the cops, Jonathan." Mandy said, rising to tiptoe so she'd be mid chest, almost eye level with him, exhaling smoke in his face.

He grabbed the cigarette and threw it down on the floor, stomping it, as he grabbed her throat calmly, as he sneered and said quietly, "Do it, Mandy. But first, I want ya to tell me one god damn thing.. Ya still want me, don't ya?"

The fact that she refused to meet his eyes was a sure sign that it wasn't too late. She grabbed his hand, pulled it down from her throat before slapping him and saying, "Fuck you, Jonathan." and walking down the hallway to her bedroom, slamming the door shut, locking it.

She sank down to the floor, her head in her hands, her body shaking in anger, in want, in fear. The look in his eyes now was almost scary.. He was so cold. He clearly needed help.

Dean flopped onto the couch when the phone rang. He picked it up, his brow raising in disgust when he heard a familiar voice on the line.

"What the fuck are ya doin' callin Mandy?" he snarled at the man on the other side of the phone. The man laughed and then said "Whoever the fuck this is.. Tell Mandy to get her ass in to work earlier tonight. We got VIP clientele comin in, and they asked for her." before hanging up.

Dean growled and in anger he pulled the phone out of the wall before storming down the hallway, trying to calm himself. But as he stood in front of her bedroom door, the anger had him shaking, he was blacked out on rage and he kicked in the door.

Mandy looked up from doing her makeup and then said calmly, "Hope to fuck ya know ya gonna fix that." before she finished putting on her lipgloss.

He grabbed her and spun her to face him, then looked at her, trying to find words, then he finally said quietly, "The fuck? I leave and ya start workin in that god damn strip club? Hell no."

"You.. Don't control me, Jonathan. Now fuckin move. I've got money to make." Mandy said calmly even as her legs turned to jello and she was so scared she couldn't stand.

"The hell ya do." he said as he stood in the broken doorway, arms out, blocking her. He grabbed her cell phone, and found the number in her contacts, held out the phone. "Call him. Or ya won't like what happens to ya."

"That so, Good? So we're movin up from rapin women to beatin 'em and threatenin em if ya don't get your way?" Mandy asked, smirking disdainfully at him.

"That isn't any of ya business. Now call him." Dean growled, right as his own cell phone rang. And then he heard Seth on the other end, and he walked downstairs.

"We decided to come with you." Roman said as Seth grabbed the phone and added, "Someone's gotta make sure you don't fuck this up for all three of us."

"Can't ya two fuck off? I'm busy." Dean growled in a low voice into the phone. Roman and Seth looked at one another then said "Nope. Actually, we're on the road to where you are, now."

"God damn it." he said as Mandy shoved past him, stopping long enough to say over her shoulder, "Don't wait up for me. And if ya leave, lock this fucking house. We'll finish this conversation later. If I'm not busy with something I'd rather be doing." as she went to get in her car.

Dean hung up quickly, ran to her car and grabbed her, picking her up over his shoulder. Then he walked back inot the house and locked the doors. "Ya ain't goin."

"There's not a damn thing you can do to stop me, Jonathan."

"Wanna bet?" Dean asked, leaning in, forcing her to kiss him. She glared, and was about to headbutt him, but he backed up and then said quietly, "Just let me talk to ya."

"Fine. Ya got ten minutes."

Mandy glared at him as she said this, her arms crossed, as her eyes flickered down to the tiny footprint tattoo on her inner wrist. Another casualty of their young love. Another thing that proved to be a big factor in their end as a couple.

Because there's some things you can bounce back from. Losing a kid isn't one. And them being so much alike, their grief turning to anger, things went downhill at a steady pace.

Dean paced in front of her as he muttered to himself, trying to find the perfect words to say what he thought he needed to say. But when he stopped, looked up at her, he couldn't. Instead, he sat down next to her and then said quietly, " Ya right. I left ya alone."

Mandy's eyes went wide, and her hand went to her long blonde hair as she bit her lower lip, studying him intently. Had he really just said that?

"Wow. That's an impressive new trick. Even for a liar like you." Mandy said as she scooted away, removed his arm from around her shoulder, sickened with herself at even considering hearing him out, after he'd just abandoned her back then, cut all ties to her, walked away like she meant nothing, like what they had meant nothing.

She settled back on the couch and then said "Wanna smoke?" as she held out her pack of cigarettes to him, and her lighter. He looked at her and then said "I fucked everything up. Just like I told ya I would.. And if I don't do this, come back here, deal with all the shit I did then, then I can't fight anymore."

Mandy began to laugh, then said "That's it.. Ya came back because ya had to? Classic fucking Jonathan. Ya can go. You're off the hook for anything ya ever did to me. And if it makes ya feel better? I didn't expect ya to be the guy ya kept tellin me you'd be."

Dean looked at her and then growled, wanting to slap her, but knowing that she was as tempermental and as unforgiving as he was. It'd been ingrained in both of them because of how they'd grown up long ago. "Just let me finish, would ya?"

"Fine. Finish."

"Something happened when I talked to my shrink before I left.. And I thought of ya.. And now, here I am.. And I'm stayin for a while." Dean said as he smirked at her.

"The hell ya are."

"Don't fight me, Mandy, because ya know I'll win." Dean said as he looked at her. Then he picked up her cell phone and called her boss, saying boldly, "She ain't comin in tonight. Because she fuckin quits, because I said so, that's why."

She glared at him and then said "You fuckin fuck. Now what the fuck am I gonna do?"

"Get a fuckin job where you're not getting naked for money. Disgusts me."

"Then get the fuck out." Mandy growled, glaring at him defiantly, before saying, "You made this. You made me this way. Now you're gonna come back and demand me to do shit? That's not how this is gonna work. My fucking house, my rules."

"We're not doing this."

"We are, Jonathan. Because you stopped factoring in to my life choices when you abandoned me, two hours before our god damn wedding, you son of a bitch, and without even a goodbye, fuck you, rot in hell, at that."

For an hour, the two of them sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts, their own personal memories of what they were, what they almost had, what they could have been.