A/N: So, one of the fics I've been reading came to a tragic end. So now I am pretty much in story hangover mode…you know, when you're still trying to recover from the other one…anyways, keep up on the follows, you guys are great. !

"Fuck!"

Chelsea slammed her foot into the side of the Coke machine, putting a hand up to her forehead in frustration. Not only did she now have no choice but to talk to Dean after giving her such a nice birthday gift, but the damned machine stole her last dollar.

She sighed, not sure what to do next. AJ and Tamina were staying at a different hotel tonight on the other side of town to do some sort of promo for a video game, so she couldn't very well hang out with them until things with Roman simmered down. She decided to hang out here, in the hallway, and scroll through her e-mail.

She'd gotten a notification from Twitter; something that Nattie had tweeted her way. A ridiculous quote about how in the long run, the chosen ones end up victorious, using the "paupers" as the stepping stones. She rolled her eyes, deleted the e-mail, trying to think of something shitty to say right back. She had 248 other notifications already from fans that either loved or hated the cupcake fiasco with AJ, and that made her feel awesome. Finally, the divas division was getting some kind of notice!

She cornered herself against the vending machine and a white concrete wall, the only lighting she had was the illumination from the glowing screen and soda dispenser. She was lost in her thoughts again, picking and choosing some re-tweets from her fans.

"Bad day?" she heard a voice drawing nearer, and she didn't even have to look up to know who, exactly, the slow drawl belonged to. She watched the man's jeans as he walked to the soda machine, put in a dollar of his own, pushed the Diet Coke button, and two rolled out.

Of course.

"Bad life," she said to Dean, not glancing up. She didn't want to meet his eyes. She couldn't handle this right now. He sure had a knack for showing up whenever she didn't wish to see him.

"Could be worse," he said, sliding down the wall opposite of her. She pretended to be overly interested in an e-mail from Lowe's hardware store. He held out one of his two sodas to the woman, offering it to her. She wanted so badly to ignore him, but she had severe cotton-mouth. And besides, that would've been her soda to begin with. She gave in, letting her hand wrap around the chilled plastic bottle.

"I've been trying to talk to you, Chelsea. I don't know why you're trying to ignore me. Did you get your tickets?"

Damn, she thought right away. That requires a response.

"Of course I did. Thank you so much."

"It's no problem. I wanted to do something nice."

"How unusual. Was that painful?" she didn't mean to come off as bitchy as she did, but whatever. She didn't want him to think that they were best buds again. They certainly were not.

"Where's Roman?" Dean continued the talk, unaffected by her sharp tongue.

Chelsea looked up, her darkened eyes meeting his. There was a loneliness she sensed in them, almost a tortured-soul look that he carried around. She had the sudden urge to push his shaggy hair out of his eyes, but before she reached over and did it, she thought twice. That would definitely be an awkward move, and would easily imply something totally false…

"He's kind of being an asshole," she said matter-of-factly, her eyes dropping to the linoleum tiles on the floor. She focused on Dean's scuffed sneaker for a moment, still avoiding his thoughtful gaze. She could feel her eyes watering, and only when Hell froze over would she allow herself to get emotional in front of her sworn enemy. She didn't really know why she was so emotional, really. Her relationship with Roman wasn't perfect, nor was it considered a rocky one. But, she supposed, it was her first true and honest one in her adult life, so this whole thing was an mental challenge in itself.

Dean broke the silence with a quick laugh. "He's under a lot of pressure right now, you know. We all are. Seth will be turning heel in the coming months to break apart the Shield, Roman is in the talks for the Money in the Bank briefcase winner, and myself…well, they don't really know what to do with me."

"I'm sure they will. You're such a versatile guy, they could put you with anyone. Shit, you would make Fandango look like a decent wrestler if you worked with him."

Dean smirked, his eyes locked on hers. "I don't know if anyone could do that."

Chelsea smiled back. "I mean...well…you did really well with me."

As soon as she said it, it felt uncomfortable between them.

"Chels, get real. You're a natural wrestler. You get it, and it makes sense to you You already knew what you were doing before they sent you to me. Shit, before you were sent to NXT! Everything you knew, you learned from Nat in the Dungeon. So, really, it's her and her family you should be thanking."

"Thanks, but no thanks," she buried her nose in her e-mails again. Fuck if she would ever be friendly with Natalie after all the pain that woman had put her through!

The silence between the pair was a long one. Dean, of course, was the first one to break the weirdness between them.

"I am heading to California," he said finally. "I've been thinking a lot lately about love, and Allison, and Marissa. And mostly about how I'll never have what I'm searching for again."

Chelsea reached out as Dean blinked back a tear. It tore at her heartstrings a little bit seeing this man still pained over the death of his ex. Of course, how could she expect him not to still hurt?

"Dean, of course you will," she said gently, "But just not with someone who only thinks about themselves, and how they can get ahead in life." As she said it, she instantly thought about Natalie's Tweet; and realized that Natalie and Marissa were pretty much grouped in the same category of women.

Dean contemplated that for a moment. "I know, Chels. It's just time for the end as far as my relationship goes with Marissa. But I'm not sure I'm totally ready for the single life, either."

"Maybe not, but you have great friends. You'll be able to get through it more quickly than you think. It's not Marissa that you're still aching over."

"I know…I know. I miss Allie so much, more every day. I see my friends, getting married. I see Roman, falling in love with you. And I hate it, but I am jealous. I'm unlucky in love, and I hate it. I want to be happy, too. I've been trying to force myself to be with Marissa for so long."

"But why?"

He averted her gaze. "Because I deserved to be unhappy. I felt guilty, and I couldn't live with myself. I don't know. I loved her, Chelsea. More than anything. But I was young, stupid, naïve, and I had my head up my ass."

"More like, up Marissa's ass."

Dean tried not to smile.

"Not anymore. She's a good woman for someone, I think. But not for me."

Chelsea shook her head. "Dean, I can't see that woman being a good match for anyone. She has her own agenda, and I could tell at the funeral—her nose was buried in her phone, she was wearing Louboutins, and her fake tits were pushed up to her chin. She is the absolute opposite of everything you are, Dean. What the fuck were you thinking?"

"I wasn't," he admitted. "If I could live it all over again, you bet your ass I would."

Chelsea felt bad for him now. For so long, she'd thought he was the scummiest of scum, but she was beginning to see him once again as the romantic that she'd used to know. Dean sighed loudly, his eyes beginning to cloud a bit. "I'm just afraid at this point. If ever I end up doing as well as the other two guys as a single's competitor, I'll be put under a magnifying glass. And once the whole thing with Allie gets out, it'll be public knowledge. And everyone will see me for who I really was…and that in the long run, the only person I gave a shit about was myself. My fans, the management, the other stars…will all see me for the exact same psychotic character that I play on screen."

"That's not true. I think if anything, they'd be sympathetic. Losing someone you love isn't easy, and most people know that."

"You think so?"

"I really do."

Silence overcame the pair again, but this time, it was comfortable, and both of them were deep in their own thoughts, letting the memories unfold in their minds. For once, they weren't forcing the old times to go away. Dean had a half-smile on his face, and Chelsea stared up at the fluorescents on the ceiling, each one of them turned off. The feeling in the hallway was eerie, but she was relaxed.

For whatever reason, just sitting there with Dean, in that moment, was exactly what she needed.

Roman was annoyed, to say the least. He'd really pissed off Chelsea, and he felt terrible. He was starting to hurt his shoulder more and more, every week. She'd told him before to check with the trainer, but he'd put it off. It was now bothering him more than ever, feeling like he'd pulled something, or perhaps, even separated something.

But with other headliners dropping like flies from injuries, or in CM Punk's case, because they were burned out, he couldn't give up a top-spot. He would not let this injury sideline his career, not while he was heading to Wrestlemania to take on the legendary Kane, or the dynamic duo of the New Age Outlaws. Sure, it wasn't the match that would make or break him...but it was a step in the right direction. They had been called into Hunter's office a few weeks back, receiving the news that the three's epic journey together would be coming to a screeching halt.

"You three are excellent together, don't get me wrong. But we are hurting right now for characters, for stories, for headliners. We've decided it was time to pull the plug on the Shield, and begin writing your stories in a new way," he had said. They hadn't expected the end to come so abruptly. Since then, it had put a storm cloud over their team, and the three all reacted weirdly to each other right now.

Seth was the most hurt over this; he would be turning his back on his brothers to join The Authority. Hunter explained that while Roman had the power and Dean had the mindset and mic skills, Seth could use the little extra push. Turning heel would help him greatly in the long run, Hunter had explained; though Seth couldn't hide the hostility in his voice after he had agreed.

Chelsea was in a whirlwind of her own storylines, and sometimes he worried that she'd get too caught up in them. Her real-life beef with Natalya still didn't make any sense to Roman, but Chelsea seemed to be in the dark, too. For whatever reason, Nat hated her former Dungeon-mate, and nobody really understood why.

Roman was pulled out of his thoughts when he got a ping on his phone. He worried for a moment that it was Chelsea, letting him know that she was thinking about staying with AJ again. But as he glanced at his phone, he was relieved to find that he'd just gotten a new e-mail.

From Toby.

He urgently opened up the mailbox icon on his phone, hoping to crack the code between Chelsea, Dean, and Allison. How did they all fit together? Why wasn't anyone talking? And mostly, why was Chelsea avoiding the whole thing altogether?

Roman,

Troubles with the sister already? No worries. I got your e-mail. Chelsea is a very secretive person. Well, maybe that's not really the word I'm looking for. She doesn't like people to feel badly for her, because many of the problems she's had comes from her own stupidity.

Anyways, I don't know a whole lot about the Allison situation. I know that it was something that changed Chelsea for a very long time, though she doesn't talk about it much. Even mom doesn't really know what happened, and mom had Chelsea watched like a hawk while she was getting treated. I think that you should just ask her, and hopefully get a straight answer.

In the meantime, I found this link. Don't say I never gave you anything!

-T

Roman followed the link to a YouTube video. It was a music video, a girl with gross, knotty black hair, overdone makeup, sleazy, ripped fishnet tights, and a plaid skirt was screaming into her microphone. He was more annoyed almost immediately, reading the title briefly. Lennon, 5:30 Saturday Morning. He clicked out of the video almost immediately, because the voice was terrible. Why would Toby send him something so awful?

He had a few missed texts from Jey, and one more from Seth. He didn't really feel like talking to anyone, just Chelsea. He knew he had to apologize to her, and he knew he was out of line with the mere mention of Jeff Hardy's treatment towards her. She took a long time to open up to him, and even now, she wasn't fully prepared to have a no-holds-barred relationship with him, as much as he'd wanted that. He couldn't force her to be in one.

Using Jeff was just a cruel way for Roman to get her to leave him alone.

He quickly texted Chelsea, hoping she'd find her way back soon. She deserved an apology, and he was ready to make it a good one.

Chelsea was the first to speak this time, somewhat startling the man who sat opposite of her.

"Ro just texted me, I really ought to be going," she began to pull herself up, and for the first time, she felt exhausted. Laying in a bed, even a hotel bed, sounded heavenly at this point.

"Yeah, you really should…I don't want him to worry about you," Dean agreed, his eyes locked on her as she drew herself to her full height. She saw him checking her out a little bit, but he tore his eyes away quickly, as though he realized what he was doing, and who exactly he was looking at.

"I really want to come with you to California," she said quietly. "I would love to, actually. But I really don't want Ro to get the wrong idea."

"Well, we could tell him, and invite him along."

Chelsea shook her head quickly. Though she was surprised Dean was so quick to open up about his past with his buddies after so long, she couldn't help but feel it was a terrible time. With everything that was going on now, that seemed like a whole new bout of drama that wasn't entirely necessary right now. Plus, Roman already knew how messy her life was, and how messy it had been….she just wanted to go ahead, enjoy her birthday and her time with her man, and let the rest come to a head whenever it was ready.

"I don't know, Dean. Not right now. There's an awful lot going on, and I'm sure it's not the right time…"

"Excuses," he began to move in closer.

"No. Truths," she responded, feeling herself get shy. Her heart was picking up pace, as he was now toe-to-toe with her.

Jeff looked down his nose at Chelsea, his eyes burning holes into hers. She could only hold his gaze for so long before she broke it, positive he was going to spit on her, or worse.

"Where were you, then?" he drawled, his voice sharp.

"I just went out to dinner with Natalie and the Bellas. Nothing else. They went out, I came to see you…"

"Dressed like a whore, as usual," he scoffed, his eyes lingering on her plummeting neckline. She wore tight, indigo-washed jeans, a thick black belt, and a halter top that showed off the cleavage she had. She left her hair straight, and she looked good. Apparently, for Jeff, she looked too good.

When she didn't respond to the comment, he scoffed again, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "The Bella girls…now they can wear something like this. That is expected. And anyways, why would it take you three hours to come home from dinner? Get real."

"There was a problem with the reservation, and so we had to wait a half hour and…"

"And you smell like alcohol," he was in her face now, his own breath smelling like Jack.

"I had a glass of wine!" she was exasperated. All of these things were true, and he was just trying to get her to crack. Some kind of a power trip.

"Excuses," he said, pulling her by her shiny black hair closer to him, an evil grin spread across his face as she winced in pain.

"No, Jeff, truths."

The last thing she remembered from that night was him taking an empty Jack Daniels bottle and smashing it to the back of her head.

"Chelsea?" Dean tilted her chin up, and she hadn't realized that she'd began to cry until he wiped a stray from her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I've just been through so much, this is all a lot to take—all the shit with Jeff, and Lennon, and Roman…I just…"

But Dean hushed her, then brushed a hair from her face that was sticking to some of the tear-stains.

"Things will get better. They always do. And eventually, we'll both get over our awful pasts…but they brought us here," he said quietly, and his face was lined with shadows.

"They did. But I hate that people have to leave…and die…just for us to be here now."

"I know. I feel the same way every day. I wish it could've been me. But you know, I still see Allie in everything I do, every day. I see her in my dreams. I see her next tome in the car. I see her playing the guitar on the bed. And sometimes, Chels, I see her in you."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

And now, his lips were pressed against hers, and she wasn't sure what to think, or to feel. His mouth was warm, and she hated to admit…she kind of enjoyed it.

But she broke away quickly, as soon as his hands had found her hips. She didn't bother to look at him again, but instead, she turned on her heel and ran back to Roman.

She was so focused on getting away and getting her head straightened out that she'd missed the evil blonde bitch that had her cell phone out, snapping a photo at just the right time.

Or in Chelsea's case, the wrong time.