: CHAPTER 08: I POUR KEROSENE ON EVERYTHING I LOVE AND WATCH IT BURN :

Dean glared at Olivia as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed. Lately, she'd been in a real bitch of a mood, and he just had this feeling.. She was getting ready to walk away.

This pissed him off. He didn't want her to walk away. Even if it was the very last thing he could or would willingly admit to, he wasn't about to give her up without one hell of a fight first hand. Not after the shit they'd managed to make it through so far.

The girl approached him, all giggly, and twisting her hair around her finger, and she said shyly, "Are you Dean Ambrose?"

He rolled his eyes, but nodded, his eyes roaming vacantly over the girls body as she said with a little giggle that was supposed to be cute but personally, he found extremely annoying, "Cool."

"Did ya want somethin?" he asked as he shifted his gaze back to Olivia, watching her carefully, making sure that none of these other bastards lingering backstage got any cute ideas, to try and take what belonged to him.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd autograph something for me?" she asked, biting her lower lip. Normally, he'd be flirting back, but currently, he was staring a hole through Olivia, who was being awfully chatty with Daniel Bryan, the little goatfaced fuck.

"Sure. Ya got a pen?" Dean asked, taking the pen he was handed, all while still watching Olivia. "What's the name?"

"Julie." she giggled, again. He waited, expecting to be handed a piece of paper or something else, but instead, she giggled and raised her shirt, pointed to her hip or somewhere. Dean raked his hand through his hair, excited by the flash of skin, the thrill of being flirted with.

Lately, all he and Olivia did was fight and make up. The making up was the best part, because just as much as he enjoyed wild and very rough sex, so did she. Just this thought bought a smirk to his face, with the images that filled his mind following the thought.

He probably shouldn't have signed the girl's body, but hey, she did ask him to. It wasn't like he was taking the girl back to his hotel room to fuck her, right?

Well, he thought Olivia might see it that way, but apparently, not today. Apparently, whatever horomones were surging to make her a raging bitch on wheels chose that exact moment to kick in.

Olivia scowled as she caught Dean signing a female fan's body. She bit her lip, kept her calm for the moment. When the girl left, she stormed over and stood there, glaring at him angrily.

"The fuck was that? You bitch at me about breathing the same air as another man, but you sign a girl's fucking body? How the fuck is that even close to fucking fair?" she practically yelled, getting angry, but trying to stay calm, her stomach churning queasily.

She'd been sick over half the damn day, she was not in the mood for this. Not in the slightest. He grabbed her wrists as she raised her hand and then said calmly, "At least I'm not making fuck me eyes at a fucking goat faced son of a bitch.. I bet you're soaked right now, thinking about fucking that little fuck.."

Her hand, the free one, met with his face and he growled, grabbing her up over his shoulder roughly as he carried her down the hallway, to someplace more privately.

Gritting his teeth, he sat her down, then paced, swearing. "If ya ever fuckin hit me again, Livvie. I'm gonna make sure I slap ya so fuckin hard that ya feel it into next week."

"Fuck you, Dean."

" You do.. Every single god damn night, princess, and don't ya forget that shit, either. You... are mine." he growled as he pulled her against him, prevented her from running out on this like she had been lately.

"You keep reminding me, yet you keep trying to make sure you push me just enough to make me fucking want to either run or fucking murder you. I'm getting sick of it, Dean. I'm constantly sick or upset, the stress is getting so damn much that sometimes I just cry." she said calmly as she tore herself free, stormed off.

Dean stormed after her, grabbing her to hold her. "Calm down, damn it." he muttered as he looked at her and then pointed out, " Ya knew what you were gettin into before this ever got started."

"I did. But.."

He held his fingers to her lips, to make her be quiet. He was just sick of fighting for a while. Sick of the stress and tension building, sick of worrying about her being sick all the time, sick of wondering if she'd finally have enough of his shit and walk away like the other people in his life had.

In some ways, if he just let her go, he'd be doing himself a favor, because then, he wouldn't have to sit around and wait on her to finally have enough and leave. But he also knew that deep down inside him, it'd kill him to do it, he'd never be able to do it.

Her phone rang, and she growled, throwing it as if it were made of snakes. Dean grabbed the phone and picked it up, growling and swearing.

'This fucking fuck.. he really thinks he's gonna get ya.. I'm not gonna let anything happen to ya, Livvie.' Dean muttered as he stared at her a moment watching her facial expressions. Things were right on that edge, if he lost her or something happened..

She sighed and then said quietly, almost in defeat, "Dean, I don't know how much more of this I can actually take.. I mean.. I love you.. Just the way you are.. But you just keep trying to shove me away, and I'm sick of fighting if you're only going to fight me on it, on how I really feel, that much harder."

He went to touch her, something, as the shock settled in, hearing her say what she had, but she shrugged his hand away and walked down the hallway, her legs shaking, her breathing erratic. He stood there a moment, his hand in his hair, grumbling to himself.

He'd done it again. He'd taken something good, twisted it, made it something bad, something painful, something that killed him to admit that he never wanted to mess up.

He went to look for her, and he couldn't find her in the building.. But AJ found him in the hallway, her hand on her hip as she said "Olivia left. She was sick."

"I know that.. Wait, what the fuck? She left? When?" Dean asked, for some reason not getting a good feeling, not at all, not in the slightest.

And Dean Ambrose always went with his gut.

AJ looked at her watch, then said warily, "About 10 minutes ago. She did my hair and makeup, then told Vickie she wasn't feeling so good, and Vickie told her to go get rest.. She also said that if she'd leave YOU alone, Ambrose, she'd feel a lot better."

He growled, but for the moment, held his temper. She knew something he wanted to know, so common sense predicated that at least until he was done finding out where Olivia went off to, alone he needed to hold his temper.

"Where'd she go?"

AJ pointed and then said calmly, "She's probably already gone by now, Ambrose." as she skipped off, gleeful to be the tormentor, not the tormented.

He growled and took off towards the door of the parking garage, swearing to himself. If he hadn't done that stupid shit just now, signing that girl right in fucking front of her..

And her ex was lurking, waiting on a chance like this one.

Out in the garage, he took out his cell phone, started dialing her number, thinking he'd see if she'd cooled off any, he knew just how bad her temper was, because it equalled his own and he knew that if he tried to just find her, she'd fight him and make a scene, and he had a bitching headache from the fight they'd just been in.

And when he heard Unforgiven II playing right by his feet, he got a sick feeling in his stomach.

Punching a wall, he bent, picked up the phone and shoved it in his pockets, pacing, angry.

If he found this motherfucker, the man was dead. He'd kill him where he stood.

But deep down, what little conscience that he had was screaming at him, 'All your fault.' over and over. He growled and then ran back inside.

Finding Seth and Roman, he explained what just happened, or what he was afraid just happened.

"You have no proof, Ambrose. What if she just dropped it?"

"Don't fuckin tell me I don't fuckin know.. I fuckin know that's not it, Rollins." Dean growled, about a second away from punching him, even though he was only angry at himself right now really.

Dean never really dealt well with rational thought. And his hair trigger temper only made this so much worse.

Roman seperated them and then said calmly but firmly, "Just give it a few minutes. She'll cool off, come back. She always does, Ambrose.. for some fucking reason, she loves you, no matter what you throw at her."

He paced, biting his thumb.

Where the fuck was she?