A very short and very twisted little chapter here, although all being well the next one won't be too far behind. Thought I'd write it exclusively from Dean's perspective seeing as the last few have mostly been from Renee's. Thank you to everyone who has read, followed and favourited so far, and special thanks to everybody who has helped the review count pass the quarter-century mark :)

It was 4AM, but Dean remained wide awake; blasting music through his headphones while he read back through his text conversations with Renee and rifled through the pictures he'd taken of her, both with and without her knowledge. Any minute. Any minute she'd be here. He had no doubt. She was that predictable.

Finally, the phone buzzed in his hand.

'Outside your room. I really need you. Renee xx

Dean readied himself, messing up his hair, scrunching his eyes, stripping down to his underwear so she would have no trouble reminding herself of just what he had to offer physically.

He opened the door; it was even better than he could have hoped. The need in her eyes when they met his, the tear stains on her cheeks, the T-shirt barely covering her. He knew that all that she cared about in the world at this moment was being with him, and it gave him the most delirious of highs. She could not be any riper for the picking than this.

"I-I know I've probably woken you up, but I... I can't take this anymore and..."

Dean couldn't wait a second longer without touching her. He brought her flush against his chest as he allowed the door to shut behind her. The vibrations of her sobs against his heart were ecstasy to him. Her happiness and peace of mind were entirely his to control; this was what he'd spent the last two months working towards, and now the finish line was in sight.

"I meant what I said, darling... whenever and whatever you need," he breathed softly as he rocked her back and forth. As he had hoped, this reaffirmation of his loyalty to her caused her to sob yet harder, mumbling her thanks against his bare skin. Never mind a knight in shining armour, he felt like a God.

"Come on, let's take a seat," he implored softly, lifting her off her feet without protestation and placing her down onto his lap as he returned to the bed. He loved how much smaller than him she was, and she looked more diminutive than ever here, curling up toward the crook of his neck as he wrapped his right arm around her back, while his left rested chastely (for now) on her knee.

"What the hell's gonna happen to me?" Renee cried, her eyes darting frantically about .

"No job, no Sami, thousands of miles from you and Nattie and everyone else. If only I'd controlled myself, none of this would have happened. This is what it comes down to. I should've been grateful for what I had."

"You were grateful. You're about as down-to-Earth as you can get in an industry like this. Why do you think you're just about the only person here who I don't hate on some level?" Dean replied, slipping into his flawless facsimile of earnest concern and desire to lighten the mood.

"And anyway, this isn't over. You'll be back on WWE television by the end of this month, I guarantee it."

"Dean, it's done. I acted unprofessionally, I was given a chance to redeem myself, and I failed. WWE's better off without me and I'm better off without it. This business has killed two relationships I thought were gonna last forever and made me less sure of myself than I've been since high school. Maybe that's all I still was deep down; a stupid little teenager who thinks she's got what it takes to be a star regardless of being too plain, too weak and too naïve to deal with any of it."

"Maybe I should go back and live with mom in Ajax. I wonder if Starbucks will have me back? Serving coffee's the only job I've not completely crashed and burned at after all. Maybe Andy Donowitz is still in town. He's still the only guy I've willingly broken up with. It's been twelve years, but maybe he still carries a torch..."

"Stop!" Dean suddenly exclaimed, causing Renee's eyes to widen and her to jump back in surprise and intimidation. He liked that. He began to quiver and snarl as he prepared for the rapid-fire tirade he hoped would bring her well-and-truly onside. He figured that for this moment at least, unnerving and intimidating her was the best route to success. And boy did he know how to do that.

"You're gonna drive yourself completely insane, and I would know, I've been there. You're absolutely 0% at fault for anything that's brought you to this. The dice were loaded against you from the beginning. It's not supposed to happen for people like us, Renee. You and me, we're outsiders; I'm not the perma-grinning, crew-cutted quarterback who's never happier than when hugging sick kids and pal-ing around with some asinine talk show host. And you, you're not the bimbo fitness model who's happy to be 'just a girl', to serve no real purpose other than giving the boys' club something to gawk at..."

"...Just cos they don't want us to succeed doesn't mean we can't, though. We fight, we scratch, we claw, we don't let them win. If I'd listened to every sharp-suited prick, every entitled little trust fund Tammy in a power suit who told me where to go I wouldn't be here, I wouldn't be anywhere. I'd be back in a rat-infested apartment in Cincinnati picking up my welfare cheques. I learnt a long time ago not to take no for an answer. You're coming to Raw with me next week, and we're getting you your job back. That's a promise. Just trust me."

"Why do you want to help me so much?" Renee asked in a tearful squeak.

Dean fixed her with a look of utmost sincerity, though of course in reality he was anything but sincere. He took her hands in his as they knelt opposite each other on the bed. He could see her silently praying for it. For him to be her hero, her saving grace. He was her only hope, her reason to believe and he never wanted it to be any other way from now on.

"That brings me onto my second gripe with your verbal disembowelling of yourself just then... You, plain? Stupid? Au contrare, my lovely. You're... well, you're where it's at. You're real, you're sweet, you're smart, you're beautiful, and I've barely stopped thinking about you since that afternoon in catering. I'm aware healing your heart will be no easy task. I know it'll take patience, and care, and that's just what I'm gonna give you."

Renee's tears began to fall again. Another wave of triumph swept across Dean, knowing he could affect her on such an emotional level, knowing he could deliver something so seemingly heartfelt whilst not meaning a single word. He waited while she shut her eyes and processed what she'd just heard. But really, what choice did she have?

"That's... I had no idea. I don't know what to say..." she breathed, shaking her head violently.

"Think about it. I can be your way out, your way back. I can save you, darling. It's all I want to do," Dean replied, twisting the knife as he gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

"...I can save you," he whispered once more.

He knew it would be the trigger. Next minute she was leaning in. Their lips were touching; he could feel her desperation, her relief, her lust for him. He was her sustenance, her life support. He eased her gently backward onto the bed, positioning himself astride her as she ran her hands across his sculpted chest. He loved how even at a time like this she was unable to contain her most primal urges toward him.

He reached up under her shirt, finding absolutely no protestation from Renee whatsoever. Of course not, his glowing appraisal of her was the only reason she still had any confidence in her sex appeal at all at this moment in time. What a privileged position to be in. He hoisted the fabric up and felt her arch her back and allow him to guide it over her head. There she was in all her glory; the bruises only adding to the spectacle as far as Dean was concerned. This was his now; all of it. His property, his prize his playground.

"Sami is a fucking idiot," he muttered under his breath as he surveyed her form, bringing a coy and somewhat guilty smile to Renee's face.

Soon she wasn't smiling, she was wailing in ecstasy as he expertly teased his tongue about her erect nipples, glancing across the tips, finding she screamed his name each time he did so. She was at his mercy, she was his little slut who lived for his touch. These were his wildest dreams coming true.

Once he'd gleaned all the elicitations he possibly could from pleasuring her chest, Dean kissed his way down across her toned midriff, admiring the curvature of her hips as he finally stopped to pause above her crotch. He wanted her to beg.

"Do you want this, Renee?" he asked rather demandingly.

"Yes," came the breathy, tremulous reply.

"Do you need me?" he continued, knowing he was being over-indulgent but now far too aroused to care.

"Yes."

"How badly?"

"Just... please Dean. Please."

It may have been the sexiest thing he had ever heard. He couldn't wait a moment longer. He buried his face within her folds, doing everything his years of practice had taught him, taking her wails of ecstasy to a whole new level; all the while knowing that this was now only his to taste. He let her juices coat his tongue, found her core and began to suck and release gratuitously, until finally she let go, and he lapped it up with relish and enthusiasm.

There was no greater thrill, the idea he could make a woman completely lose control, make her submit herself to him totally. Well, there was one greater, and that was to have her return the favour. Unfortunately, that would have to wait, but he knew now it would soon happen, and that thought alone turned him on no end.

"I guess we'll have to leave it there..." he sighed

"...You're too banged up for anything more and we've got a plane to catch tomorrow."

"We?" Renee questioned as she slowly returned to Earth.

"I'm coming to New York with you, Renee. It's my day off and that's what I want to do with it," he proclaimed.

"You're amazing, I just... thank you," she said, as yet more tears made their way down her cheeks.

"Pleasure's all mine, darling..." Dean replied as he nestled in behind her, arms enveloping her waist possessively.

"...Pleasure's all mine."