Like I said in the previous chapter: this was meant to be a large one, now split into a few parts, so you already get the next night. Thanks for the new reviews already. Really spurned me on to get this one done and dusted. Hope you enjoy as well!


William Regal didn't really know how he survived the rest of the day when he finally made it to his bed again. He felt terrible because the only living and breathing creatures that got some food today had been his pets. Actually his lizards and snakes probably felt really good today quite in contrast to Mr Regal. He didn't show it to them and they might have had the best day of their entire lives so far. He actually treated them like he would have treated Dean if this knowledge about his betrayal would have ignored to make its presence known to him.

Christmas was just one month away. So Mr Regal had already made plans for the festive season – where he would go to with Dean; what he would show to him in the near surrounding because by this time around Christmas he would have probably felt content with going outside together with Dean and don't make this castle his prison any more.

Why hadn't Dean fight for himself? Why hadn't he fight against him being thrown out of the castle? Why hadn't he fight for his job? Why hadn't he fight for this little blossoming flower that was their relationship? Why hadn't he fight for them?

All these questions went through Mr Regal's mind the whole day. And they were still there at night when he was in his own bed again and tried to get some sleep. They were still there because there was only one answer to all of these questions, Mr Regal could think of: Dean hadn't fight because he was glad enough to go back to his real master, Mr Livingston. No other answer came to his mind because it was the only logical one. The only one.

Mr Regal was hungry. His headaches were basically killing him. And he wasn't able to sleep. He knew that he had to do something in the morning. Breakfast first, of course. But then he would go to Mr Livingston. He would confront him verbally with no witnesses, so he wouldn't be able to file a charge against him this time. Or he would demand from Mr Livingston to get Dean out so he could confront them both. He needed to do something and that seemed like the only possible thing to close this little chapter of his life. Confronting them was actually confronting himself. So, in facing the roots of his hurt feelings he was probably able to feel healthy again to move on. Never in his life William Regal had been the victim to anyone and he certainly wouldn't start with being the victim right now. And certainly not to Mr Livingston of all people.

– – – –

When Mr Regal went up from his bed again, he hadn't slept at all. But at least he had rested a bit while his feelings turned from grief to anger. And right now this was a much healthier feeling for him. He was able to eat something but he avoided to make an omelette because he only would have been reminded about watching Dean in his maid costume preparing his food that had been usually an omelette in various forms.

And as long as anger was boiling through his veins, Mr Regal had to use it to his advantage. Being angry would help him in being not too overwhelmed by other feelings when he would confront Mr Livingston. Everything was still fresh but it had to be. If Mr Regal would wait just a few days, these hurt feelings would settle deep inside of him. And he wouldn't get rid of them completely. So he wouldn't let them crawl their path into his heart. He would spit them out when he was still able to do so. And he would do it now.

William Regal could feel the already cold winter air that would soon culminate into the first snow of the year. Maybe he could get in some Christmas spirit by then. Because right now he tried to forget that Christmas was just around the corner. It would just be another lonely Christmas, not completely because he would still have his pets but that was something different. As of right now the cold breeze was something good to get some warmth from his black and burgundy cashmere scarf, to feel just a little comfortable on his way from the castle to his car.

He only had a few miles to drive to the in comparison to his own residence much less impressive house of Mr Livingston. There was just a little shabby garden and the big wall around it wasn't really needed, Mr Regal always thought when he saw his now arch rival's estate. Of course Mr Livingston had seen him coming. But he took his time to open the door long after Mr Regal had made his presence known.

"Regal, what a pleasant surprise," was his snobby greeting, adding a smug face to the irony. "I guess you want to slap me again because you like it too much sharing a court room with me. Am I right?"

"Surprisingly you are not," was Mr Regal's equally deeply sarcastic response. "In fact the devil led me to you because he was searching for his home. Anyway, I didn't came here for the meaningless small talk. Just get your servant out here, so I'm able to address both of you."

"My servant? I don't know what my servant might have to do with anything you'd like to address to me. So, please enlighten me." Mr Livingston answered and his face this time mirrored his actual ignorance.

"Come on, Livingston, don't play stupid. You know exactly that I mean no other servant than your boy Dean Ambrose," Mr Regal said in a sharper voice than before. And he had to swallow down the growing pain that appeared from saying his name.

Mr Livingston had a long, almost perplexed look upon his face until he burst out into laughter.

"Why would this whore be with me? Isn't he at your rotten castle, spreading his legs for you every night?" Mr Livingston then asked between laughter.

Mr Regal couldn't hide his disgust towards him but he knew that Mr Livingston clearly wanted the physical exchange. It was all too obvious that he wanted Mr Regal behind metal bars – at least for a few days. He wanted to humiliate him for his behaviour in the past. He wanted to be as cunning as his rival. But he wouldn't get this satisfaction.

Mr Regal took a deep breath of clear air that he only got with stepping back just a little. He closed his eyes for a moment and he had already clenched his hands inside of the pockets of his soft coat of dark green coloured cashmere. It helped to maintain his composure.

"Just get the boy out," he then instructed his counterpart. "I know that he went back to you."

Now it was for Mr Livingston to change his mood. He took his time to look the man in front of him directly into his eyes. He seemed telling the truth. Dean apparently really wasn't at his home any more. And with the knowledge he got from the hearing he must have thought that he was here again. But instead of showing just one glimpse of sympathy, Mr Livingston now smiled a sneering smile.

"So, either did he fled from you or you threw him out. Either way both possibilities amuse me. But he isn't here. Again: why would he? I didn't treat him very well, you know? I mean I had quite some fun with him. But he probably not with me. But he certainly must have told you, haven't he?" Mr Livingston now asked, still smiling until he realized something. His eyes widened and he grinned even more.

"Now I understand: he didn't tell you. That's why you're here. You really think that this whore is here with me. As my servant. Now you really make me laugh, you old fool. What else do you have left in your pocket to amuse me?" Mr Livingston now clearly had found his modest language to taunt Mr Regal even more.

But the man in front of him had finally enough. He stepped forward, grabbed the collar of Mr Livingston's cheap looking shirt and whispered his words through gritted teeth.

"You can really call yourself lucky that I refuse to believe going to prison because of something I do to you could be some kind of service to humanity. I'm not sure why I believe you about Dean really isn't here. But if I was to find out that he actually is, I may reconsider my previous beliefs. So, I'm giving you one last chance to tell me where he is."

"You already hurt me, Regal! I can already accuse you for that," Mr Livingston said and tried to wrestle away from the other man but without success.

"Don't make a fool of yourself when you're already one, Livingston. Just tell me what I want to know," Mr Regal now told the other man in a rather calm voice, knowing very well that Mr Livingston couldn't do anything without actual wounds or witnesses.

And that also seemed to dawn on Mr Livingston when he finally gave in to answer the question.

"I really have no idea where your boy is right now. He's not here; that's for sure. And I don't even want him back. He was..." he said and tried to add some further insults but Mr Regal cut his word short.

"Alright, I already know what you want to say. Keep it for yourself. That spares us further time together."

And with these words he let go of the collar, turned and went back to his car. Of course Mr Livingston still had some slurs to blast out towards him. But Mr Regal couldn't care less at this moment. His thoughts were already back with Dean. For some reason he couldn't be angry with him any more. In fact he was worried about him. And he got the feeling that he shouldn't wait to search for him.

Mr Regal basically knew nothing from Dean's past and he wished right now that he'd have asked him. But from the little pieces he somehow got in the past couple of days he knew that Dean didn't have a home where he could go to. And he didn't have people where he could go to. His past wasn't bright and he didn't have anything. So, he could be everywhere basically. And Mr Regal just didn't know where to start searching.

Somehow he hoped that Dean would have trusted him enough to leave him any message, any little hint where he could be. So, he didn't start searching but went back to his castle.

– – – –

William Regal went back to life when he saw one drop of his own tears on the words that he just read. He was standing in front of the window of his servant's bedroom, looking into the dark of the night and holding the notebook that the boy used as some kind of diary. Mr Regal carefully shut the book and put it down on the desk where it had been lying before. Dean clearly wanted for him to find it and right now Mr Regal just felt that his pain had increased.

Dean wasn't with Mr Livingston. And he didn't even mention him in his diary. All his words were about his new master and his time here. He had written about the best time of his life; he had written about his wretched past; he had written about all the love he felt for this place and his master.

Before William Regal felt another tear drop down, he wiped his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew what he had to do. And he wouldn't stop until he'd found him.

Then Mr Regal laid down in his servant's bed, turned off the light and tried to sleep at least for a few hours.


Yes, I know, even more torture for William. Hope you liked the chapter nevertheless. But if you feel the need to moan about something: just go ahead. I really like any kind of reviews. Thanksss!