Someone in the World
Summary:What happens when you have nobody left? When there's nobody to look out for you except yourself? Harlan hits the road and finds the one thing she thought she'd never have again: Hope. A story of a broken family and discovering that family doesn't need to be connected by blood. Rated T for now but later chapters will be M with the introduction of a romantic angle.
Warnings: Strong language and violence throughout. Later chapters will most likely contain scenes of a sexual nature (when the rating changes to M)
Disclaimer: This is all fiction! It all came from my crummy brain. Any songs, cars, movies, TV shows, celebrities, known wrestlers, or even brands mentioned all belong to their respective owners. The only people I "own" are the obviously fictional ones, such as Harlan Grace Matheson, her family, Ray and any other fake characters that pop into this. As wrestling fans, I trust we all know who I made up and who is real...That reminds me, if anyone happens to have that exact name combination (Harlan Grace Matheson), sorry...It's pure coincidence and chance. I spent several days coming up with that name. Please don't take it away from me.
Harlan applied the finishing touches to her makeup and hair; it was all very low key as she didn't like to emulate the girls with the layers upon layers of crap on their faces and wildly over-teased hair.
Still, even for her it was more than usual. She used liquid liner this time, for crying out loud. And a smidge of hair product; some cream she found in Peyton's stash which claimed to smooth down the fly-aways while creating an "edgy" look.
Whatever that means…
Surveying herself in the mirror, she sighed and shrugged her shoulders hopelessly.
I don't even know if he'll be there… Besides, even if I knew for sure… Isn't it kind of lame to put this much effort into it?
She walked out of the bathroom, patting the pockets of her skinny jeans to make sure she had everything. Wallet, check. Tube of matte lip cream, check. Keys, check.
Ray wandered out of the kitchen and caught sight of her as he meandered towards the living room holding a sandwich and a glass of milk. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Who's the lucky guy?" he asked her around a bite of his sandwich.
"Why does there need to be a guy?" she replied, visibly prickling at his jab.
"Oh, well, I don't know. Maybe because you're all dolled up" he said as he plopped down onto the couch. He placed his food on the coffee table and reached for the remote.
"Dolled up? By the way, you're not supposed to speak with your mouth full" she shot back as she walked over to her room to grab her coveted gray Converse sneakers. As she walked away, she heard Ray cracking up with laughter.
As she sat on her bed, lacing up her sneakers, Peyton walked in.
Harlan's mouth dropped at the form fitting, short skirted, cap sleeved bandage style dress. The deep purple color perfectly complimented Peyton's long brown hair and hazel eyes.
"Whoa, umm… I think I'm under-dressed" Harlan said dryly.
Peyton looked her over critically, taking in every aspect of Harlan's ensemble.
"I like the loose fitting tank you've got going on right now. Even if it has a freaking skull on it, the navy blue color agrees with you. But I'm seriously not feeling the jeans and sneakers, sorry babe" she said honestly.
Harlan grumbled under her breath and stalked over to her closet. She hated dressing up in any way. It all just felt so stuffy, like she couldn't even breathe. The last thing she wanted to do was put on some glamorous dress.
"Let's see what's in here" Peyton said, sidling up to Harlan and ruffling through her closet.
"What about this?" Peyton asked, holding up a black leather mini skirt with a zipper detail straight down the middle.
"Umm, how about we don't go there?" Harlan said as she tried to pry the skirt away from Peyton's death grip.
"Why not? Give me one good reason" Peyton said, holding the skirt up in the air and stretching up on the tips of her toes.
"I bought that thing on a whim; it's not really something I wear" Harlan tried to explain. She felt like she'd attract the wrong kind of attention wearing black leather to a Miami nightclub. She didn't mind being looked at, or taking part in a little flirting, but a whole club full of hormonal men?
"You've gotta live a little sometimes. Give it a try. If you don't like how it looks with your tank, we'll ditch the idea. I promise" Peyton said, thrusting the skirt into Harlan's arms.
Grudgingly, Harlan took the skirt and changed into it. They'd changed in front of each other countless times in the locker rooms; this was no different.
"Fuck, yeah. Red, you have to wear this tonight" Peyton said, whistling at her.
Harlan moved over to stand in front of the mirror she'd hung on the inside of the closet door. She looked herself over and had to admit that it looked pretty good. The loose fitting graphic tank helped to offset the sex kitten factor of the leather skirt.
"Fine, but I'm wearing my combat boots" Harlan said in a stern voice.
After Harlan had dug out a small, studded, charcoal colored purse with a long strap, she threw everything she needed into it and slung it across her body messenger style.
"Alright, let's get the hell out of here. We need to leave, it's kind of a long drive" Harlan said.
The girls walked out and made their way to the apartment door. Ray watched them, this time keeping his comments about Harlan's appearance to himself, and called out to them from the couch.
"Be careful, you two. I mean it! Watch out for each other!" he said.
"Yes, Brother Ray!" the girls said in unison as they walked out of the apartment.
The atmosphere was dark and hazy. There seemed to be a sort of fog to the place; Harlan could only guess there were a few strategically placed smoke machines hiding around the club. The neon lights and dimmed pot lights only furthered the surrealist and dreamy feel of the place.
"Why do I feel like I just walked into some sort of disco spaceship…?" Harlan whispered in Peyton's ear. The brunette winked at her and took her by the hand, leading her towards the bar area.
The closer they got to the bar, the louder the music thumped in their heads and against their chests. Although it wasn't her music of choice, Harlan had to admit the bass reverberating in the enclosed space was making her want to bob her head in time to the beat.
As they approached the bar, they caught sight of a guy in tight white jeans and a tight black button up shirt, open down to his chest, dancing his way towards them. The guy made a dramatic stop involving some sort of flourish. He caught Harlan's hand in his, but she yanked her hand away quickly. Shrugging, he moved closer to the girls and introduced himself.
"My name is FAHN – DAHN – GOHHH!" he announced proudly.
Harlan took a step back, "Oookay, then… That's nice" she said, completely unimpressed and more on the bewildered side.
Peyton tried not to laugh, but failed. Fandango winked at her and turned back to Harlan. He held out his hand, his demeanor completely changing from cheesy sitcom character to normal human being.
"Seriously, my name is Curtis. Randy told me to keep an eye out for you guys" he explained, as Harlan tentatively shook his hand.
"We've got a VIP room, follow me" he said, turning around.
Going up a staircase, they reached the VIP room; it had a balcony overlooking the dance floor. From the look of things, they had bottle service and an assigned waitress.
Harlan hung back behind Peyton; she looked around at the faces and recognized none. She pulled on her leather skirt, wishing it were longer.
Curtis waved his arms out and raised his voice, "Everyone, these lovely ladies are friends of Randy. Peyton and Harlan, this is everyone" then he proceeded to walk away to join a group of giggling women.
A few people looked up and raised their drinks at them; Peyton winked back at them and smiled; a confident smile. Harlan avoided their eyes and made her way to the balcony.
"Promise me you won't stand here all night" Peyton told her, nudging her in the ribs.
"I promise I'll try not to. Listen, don't worry about me. Get out there and have fun; this is for you, Peyton. Dance and chat the night away" Harlan told her, urging her friend to have fun.
Peyton gave her an undecided look. She opened her mouth to speak but Harlan stopped her.
"I mean it. Go!" Harlan said, pushing Peyton away. The brunette leaned forward quickly and planted a kiss on Harlan's cheek.
"Thanks, Red" she whispered, before walking off.
Harlan watched the people dancing below. Eventually, her foot started to tap in time to the music. The waitress came by and asked her if she'd like anything to drink, returning a few minutes later with the scotch on the rocks Harlan had asked for.
This is going to be a long night… Ugh, I suck at small talk.
She turned as someone approached and leaned against the balcony railing next to her. A solid man with short brown hair, well trimmed brown beard and mustache and somewhat of a "Gladiator" look to him stood next to her.
"You doing okay?" he asked her, his deep voice showing genuine interest. He sort of sounded like Randy in a weird way.
"I'm fine. I'm just not the clubbing kind of girl" Harlan answered him honestly, sipping on her drink.
"Gotcha. I'm Joseph, by the way" he said, grinning at her widely.
"I'm Harlan" she replied. She noticed he wore a wedding ring and she relaxed a bit. Not that a wedding ring ever stopped anyone, but she liked to assume that it would at least delay any unwanted advances.
"Oh, trust me; I know your name already. The locker rooms at RAW have been buzzing with your name" he said, still grinning.
She frowned, "What do you mean?"
He took a swig of beer before answering her, "If you plan on sticking around in this business, you better get used to the rumors and the constant gossiping. We've all heard about the scuffle between Dean and Randy"
Harlan rolled her eyes before turning back to watch the people below them.
"So basically I'm now infamous for creating drama" she said, sounding pretty irate.
"No – don't get me wrong, a lot of us also know you from the hardcore scene. It's just that most people can't stop speculating as to why Dean Ambrose of all guys would bother defending a woman" he said, his tone all business and matter-of-fact.
Before she could ask him more, two men appeared behind Joseph, laughing loudly. They clapped him on the back and jostled him around; it reminded her of the stereotypical frat boys you would see in movies.
"YO! Axel! Don't be selfish, man," the bleach blonde man said before turning towards her, "You're Harlan, right?" he asked her. His smile was like something out of toothpaste commercials.
"Yeah, and you are?" she asked him.
"Ouch! You're killing me. I'm Nicholas, though most of the ladies know me as Dolph" he said, winking at her.
"This young guy right here is our little Taylor!" Dolph said, teasing the younger man. The young man had long, long brown hair and almond shaped brown eyes.
Harlan squinted and realized she had seen him before.
"Wait a minute, I've seen you before. There's like a million posters of you down at the Performance Center" Harlan said.
Taylor looked embarrassed, "Yeaaahh… I'm sort of the current NXT Champion"
"Sort of?" Harlan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"What Taylor means to say is that he owns NXT and no man can touch him" Joseph said, laughing boisterously.
Harlan looked up at him in something close to awe.
"But you're so young!" she said, surprise in her voice.
The other two men laughed while Taylor immediately straightened up.
"You're not that much older than me" he protested, pointedly staring down at Harlan.
"I'm sorry; I didn't mean anything by it. I'm honestly impressed. I doubt I'll ever get to where you are" she said, shrugging.
Dolph squeezed in between her and Joseph and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
"You'll make it. Everyone I know speaks highly of you and the fact you're new to all this but still so talented is a GOOD thing. If you want, you could try asking to be my new valet. It might help you out" he said, smirking.
Harlan rolled her eyes and the guys laughed good-naturedly. She tuned them out as they gave Dolph a hard time for his lame attempt at flirting. She watched as Randy walked through the door. He frowned as he took in the sight of Harlan surrounded by the men, particularly at Dolph's arm around her shoulders.
He sauntered over; his body moved so fluidly. His jeans hugged him perfectly, as did the tight t-shirt. Harlan had to admit; the man was attractive, and despite her better judgment, she couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to sleep with him.
A girl can fantasize, and damn, the guy walks like sex on legs…
As he reached the group, his cold blue eyes stared at the men; his eyes lingered for a fraction of a second on each of them.
"Well, well. Is everyone having a good time?" he asked, his deep voice not matching the innocent question. Taylor and Joseph stayed completely quiet. Harlan's previous fantasies shattered as she felt the sudden chill permeate the atmosphere.
"For sure; it's a killer club" Dolph said, matching Randy's intense gaze with his own blue eyes.
Sighing, Joseph stepped between them, "I'm pretty sure Harlan doesn't need another one of these dick measuring contests, so why don't you two pretty boys cut it out" he said, swinging his head to look between the two men.
Dolph slowly removed his arm from Harlan's shoulders; Randy smirked, but took a step back as a sign of cooperation.
Aaaaand this is why I can't afford to be stupid…
"Excuse me" Harlan said. Joseph nodded and moved back to let her pass.
She walked quickly, not caring as she faintly heard Randy call out to her. She made her way out of the VIP room and nearly ran down the staircase. Bumping into him, she came face to face with the last person she expected to see at the club.
"Whoa, where are you going in such a rush?" Punk asked her, gently placing his hands on her shoulders to stabilize her as she stumbled.
Harlan felt relief spread over her, "What are you doing here?" she asked him.
"I heard you'd be here, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to check up on you" he said, his eyes searching her face, "What's wrong?" he asked her.
"Ugh, nothing… I just started to feel a bit trapped up there" she said vaguely.
"Red! What happened?" Peyton's voice trailed down the staircase as the brunette appeared behind her.
"Nothing, nothing" Harlan said, still trying to dodge the questions. Harlan pressed her back against the wall, giving Peyton room to join them.
The brunette nodded a greeting to Punk before turning to Harlan; concern etched on her face.
"Don't give me that crap, babe. I saw you with the guys; I also saw how everything took a dive when Randy got there" Peyton said.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Punk exclaimed as he rolled his eyes at the mention of The Viper.
"It wasn't like that!" Harlan groaned. Running her hands through her red hair, she explained what had happened.
"See; nothing happened. It was nothing" Harlan said.
Punk and Peyton locked gazes above Harlan's head; after a few seconds, Punk spoke up.
"If it was nothing, you wouldn't have nearly knocked me over as you flew down the stairs" he said pointedly.
"He's right. We can talk to Randy if you'd like" Peyton offered.
"No! I can handle it myself. For crying out loud, you're both over reacting, don't you think? What the hell is up with that?" Harlan asked angrily.
"Oh, well, fuck us for taking interest in your well-being" Punk said sarcastically.
Groaning, Harlan held her head in her hands.
"He didn't mean that" Peyton said quickly, glaring at Punk. He shrugged, crossing his arms across his chest.
"We're just trying to help you out, babe. You're usually the one holding everyone else together, so yeah, it's kind of concerning when you run out of a room" Peyton explained.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I suck at these things, I really do. Look, I'm going to sit at the bar for a bit, okay? You guys head on up and do your thing" Harlan said, attempting to squeeze past Punk.
Punk leaned towards her, placing a gentle hand around her wrist.
"Be careful; I'll be up here if you need me" he whispered to her.
Without a word, Harlan broke free from him and walked down the last few steps. She made her way to the bar and found an empty stool. She ordered another scotch on the rocks, sipping on it as she swiveled in the stool to watch the dancers. She ignored the interested stares from the men around her. Frowning, she did her best to avoid eye contact with anyone; never staring at one person more than a second.
He's not even going to show up, is he? Fuck it…
In one gulp, she finished off her drink, swiveling around to place the empty glass on the counter. She hopped down from the stool and made her way to the dance floor, finding a crowded area to mingle in.
The music washed over her and with eyes closed, she let her body find the rhythm. She normally wasn't the type to dance, but tonight she just wanted to get lost in the crowd; she just wanted to be another body in the sea of bodies.
Blow by blow
I didn't see it coming
Blow by blow
Sucker punched
Rushes in
Here to stay
Rushes in
You are here to stay…
Harlan lost herself to the music; her hips swaying and her hands caressing her sides and running through her hair.
What rushes into my heart and my skull
I can't control
Think about it
Feel it in my bones
What rushes into my heart and my skull
I can't control
I feel you in my bones
You're knocking at my window
You're slowly letting me go
And I know this feeling oh so
This feeling in my bones…
As she turned, revolving sensually on the spot, she felt strong arms wrap around her body. She opened her eyes to find his piercing blue eyes drinking her in. The dark look in his eyes thrilled her; it sent heat and electricity shooting out throughout her body.
He held her close to his body, his hands resting on her hips. She used his body as a prop; all the frustration from the scene in the VIP room and the staircase, the crap she'd been dealing with in developmental, all of it came out in her dance. She let him hold her as she rolled her hips, grinding against him. Her hands caressed his chest and his midsection as she swayed hypnotically around him; she circled him, her hand trailing down to his ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Reaching up, she wound her arms around his neck, letting her body fall against his.
Leaning down, he whispered into her ear, "What's gotten into you?"
"Make me forget…" she breathed out against his ear.
Dean wrapped an arm around her; his hand sitting low on her back, the tips of his fingers grazing the top of her leather covered ass. His other hand buried itself at the back of her head; his hand roughly grabbed a fistful of her long hair and angled her face up towards his. Dean brought his face down mere centimeters from hers. Slowly the distance between them closed; she could feel his breath on her lips; and he could feel hers on his. She closed her eyes, her heart beating fast and hard in her chest.
But before their lips touched, someone bumped into her from behind, hard, jolting her and shifting her off balance. Her lips brushed his cheek. Dean instinctively held her close to him as he looked past her, looking for whoever had bumped into her.
"What the fuck…" she heard him mumble. She looked up and around the dance floor. A few people were scrambling away, fear on their faces.
Then they heard it. A gun shot. The music stopped abruptly as chaos erupted all around them. Now, everyone on the dance floor ran in every direction; nobody knew where the shot had come from, but they knew they had to get out.
"Shit! Come on!" She yelled, pulling on Dean's hand. As she ran towards the VIP room staircase, with Dean behind her, they heard a second gun shot. Fighting their way through the crowds of people, it felt like forever until they finally reached the stairs.
Turning to her, he stopped.
"Let me go first" he said quietly. Harlan didn't argue; she kept close to him as they made their way up the stairs. Once at the top, he paused. Something in his body language froze her veins.
"Let me through" she demanded, but his arm shot out to block her path.
"No, no, wait" he said, insisting. He turned and held her back by the shoulders.
"Let go. Now" she said firmly. Her gray eyes bore into him; the piercing intensity promising him a fight if he didn't do as she asked.
"Whatever" he mumbled, raising his hands in a show of submission; he backed away into the room to give her space to pass.
She walked in to find the room in complete disarray. The divas cowered in a corner with many of the men creating a protective shield around them. In the center of the room she saw Joseph kneeling down, Randy beside him. Both were hovering over someone.
That dress…
As she approached, Randy turned to look at her. Getting to his feet, he grimaced in pain. Harlan realized he'd been shot in the shoulder. With one hand he applied pressure to his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Harlan. I tried to stop them. I really did. I'm so sorry" he rambled incoherently.
Looking down, she confirmed her suspicions. Her stomach dropped to her feet and her mouth became dry. A lump formed in her throat.
Peyton was lying on the ground, on her back. A bullet wound could be seen in her midsection; the material of her dress completely wrecked from all the blood, despite Joseph's hands applying pressure. Peyton looked pale and pasty. Upon a second glance, Harlan noticed her chest rising.
She's still here…
Harlan stood motionless, frozen to the spot. She stared at Peyton's chest; she was afraid to look away for fear that her friend would stop breathing.
"Did anyone call for an ambulance?" Harlan heard someone say. Clearing her throat, she realized she'd been the one speaking.
"She needs an ambulance" she said again, her voice thick with repressed tears. She felt a presence behind her and knew without checking it was Dean. Sure enough, she heard his voice behind her as he wrapped his hand around one of hers.
One of the divas in the corner assured her they had called for help; the others murmuring in agreement.
"What the hell happened?" Dean asked loudly as his thumb caressed Harlan's hand. She focused on the motion of his thumb; it soothed her and gave her something else to think about, something else to feel.
"I wish I knew" Joseph said without looking up. He was completely intent on minimizing Peyton's blood loss.
"A Latino looking guy burst into the room, some girl behind him. She was crying and begging him to stop. Peyton stepped forward, it looked like she knew the girl" Joseph continued. He took his own shirt off; with muscles rippling, he tore the shirt in half. He balled up one half of the shirt and pressed it against the bullet wound in Peyton's midsection. With the other half of the shirt, he created a make-shift bandage; he wrapped it around her and tied it over the balled up shirt, hard and tight.
Without getting to his feet, Joseph pivoted on his knees and turned to look up at Harlan. There was sincere sympathy in his eyes.
"The guy was going off in Spanish, and the only thing the girl kept saying was "stop" and "leave her alone". Peyton never even got a word in. He just aimed the gun at her. That's when Randy stepped in front of her" Joseph explained.
Punk rushed into the room, paramedics following him. Seeing Harlan, Punk paled.
"You shouldn't be seeing this" he said as the paramedics reached Peyton and attended to her. Everyone backed up and gave them space to work.
For a moment, Punk frowned. He glanced down at Harlan's hand; he watched Dean's thumb playing across her skin. He shook his head to clear his mind.
"Are you okay?" he asked her as his eyes scanned her quickly for any injuries.
"She's fine; we didn't bump into any gunmen or anything like that" Dean answered for her. Punk looked mildly annoyed at the fact the younger man had answered him, but he shrugged it off. He was more interested in the fact that Harlan was safe and sound.
As the paramedics cautiously moved Peyton onto a stretcher, Randy dropped to his knees. He stared down at his bloody hands before looking up at Harlan.
"I'm so sorry…" he mumbled; his eyes held an unfocused look.
A nagging feeling in the back of her mind snapped her out of the numb shock she had fallen into. Harlan looked down at Randy curiously. She cleared her throat once again.
"Why do you keep saying sorry?" she asked him, watching him intently.
"I didn't think I'd see her again, especially not like this. I told her to step away, to leave, but she wouldn't listen. I was going to try and take the gun from him, but… but I didn't want to risk hurting her…" Randy said, rambling.
"See her again? Who?" Harlan asked. Suddenly, something slid into place in her mind. It clicked, and a wrenching feeling took root in the pit of her stomach.
"My sister… My little sister was here. He shot us and she was here" Randy answered in a hoarse and ragged voice.
The paramedics came up behind him and handed him a wad of gauze for him to press against his shoulder. Slowly, Randy made it back to his feet with help from a paramedic; the paramedics instructed him to follow along closely.
"Becky… my little Becky" he mumbled; a lone tear squeezed out of one eye as he turned and walked behind Peyton's stretcher. The paramedics announced the name of the hospital they'd be going to, but Harlan caught none of it. The last thing she heard echoed in her mind. Becky.
A/N: HUGE Thank You to every new follower and to everyone who has added me/this story into their Favorites list. Also, MANY happy tears and one giant bear hug to everyone who has left me a comment. You guys rock, really. The kind words really pulled me through a funk I was in, and even the criticisms helped. But who am I kidding, the kind words are what tipped me over the edge. I truthfully wasn't expecting such a response! I hope this update is enough of a gift. Some notes: Joseph is Curtis Axel. Taylor is Bo Dallas. Nicholas is, as he himself explained, Dolph Ziggler. The song Harlan danced to is a remix: DJ Tiesto ft. Tegan and Sara - Feel it in My Bones. THANK YOU again, guys. You guys make my day with all the favorites, follows, and comments. See you at the next update :)