I didn't expect to sleep, but I did. I don't think I so much as twitched in the next six hours.
I woke up as the sun was setting. I stumbled to the bathroom and drank straight from the faucet, swishing the water around my dry mouth and throat. I finally glanced into the mirror and wasn't surprised to see that I looked like hell – my face had settled into grim lines, and when I forced a smile on my face it looked utterly terrifying.
I wandered back out towards the bed, debating on going back to sleep or putting the battery back in my phone and calling Aaron to let him know I was still all right and find out what the plan was from here.
I glanced longingly back at the bed before I made the adult decision and picked up my phone. I had six text messages and one voicemail. The texts were surprisingly mundane – Paul had apparently boarded a flight to Vegas some hours ago and had already landed. I wondered where he was now. The other messages were flight information, including one from Aaron about a flight leaving tomorrow for New York. I guessed that was the one that I would be on.
The voicemail was from Dean. I wasn't sure if I wanted to listen to it, but I figured I'd rip the bandaid off now, quickly, and hope it didn't hurt too much.
I hit the play button and was greeted by silence. Complete and utter silence.
I checked to make sure that the message was actually playing. It was, the seconds ticking along normally – and yet, I couldn't hear anything.
Just as I was about to stop the message and start it again, thinking there was something wrong with my phone, I heard a sigh.
"Lizzy..."
The message ended there. That was all. Somehow, it unnerved me more than anything else he could've said.
I sat on the bed, unhappily contemplating just what happened now and wondering if Dean was any better than he had been earlier today, when I was startled out of my stupor by a gentle knock on the door.
"Liz?" A muffled voice called. "It's Aaron. I have your stuff."
I made my way to the door, stopping to make a token attempt at smoothing my hair down into a somewhat-acceptable shape before giving it up as useless.
I took a deep breath and opened the door, attempting to smile. That almost immediately fell off my face when I caught sight of him.
"What...?"
"I'm fine," he interrupted. "Really."
The puffed eye that was already starting to bruise told a different story. I felt my shoulders fall. "I'm sorry."
The corner of his mouth turned up. "You're not the one who punched me."
I wanted to say that I knew that I was the reason he'd gotten punched. Instead I sighed, moving away from the door. "Come on in. Thanks for bringing everything."
"No problem," he replied, placing my bags on the floor before turning back to me and looking at me intently. "Are you ok?"
I shrugged, attempting to smile. That was really all I could muster for an answer.
He gave me a small smile. "I'm sorry. That was a really dumb question."
I shook my head. "Don't worry. Physically, I'm fine," I repeated from our conversation earlier. "Otherwise, I'm a little on-edge." He nodded in reply and looked like he was about to say something, and I realized right then that I just didn't want to be around anyone.
"I'm going to go take a shower," I said before he could open his mouth. "I won't be long."
He smiled. "No rush. Take your time. I'll wait here and see what I can find for food."
So that's what we did. I retreated to the bathroom with one of my bags, amazed that everything was accounted for and still intact.
I took a very long shower, steaming up the entire bathroom. I could hear Aaron in the room beyond, obviously making different phone calls. I didn't care.
All I cared about was trying to figure out how my life had gone so far sidways in the past twenty-four hours now that I had a clear head.
Dean and I...we'd been good. I'd been settling in to him and his life in a way that, thinking about it now, made me bristle a little bit. It'd been so easy; it had happened without me even noticing.
I tried to figure out if I fucked it up or if he had. I decided, after a long mental debate, that it had been both of us – but it was more on him than it was on me. His reaction had been wholly disproportionate, and if he hadn't been a fucking headcase about it we could've worked through it. If he'd just listened to me, we could've worked through it.
But he hadn't.
And now I was here. Sharing a suite for the night with his bitter enemy.
He really didn't think things through sometimes.
I thought briefly about Aaron, about what he would do if I walked out there naked and jumped on him. I didn't entertain the thought for long; like it had been with Wade on a night that already felt like it was years ago, it would just be a revenge fuck. And, truth be told, I didn't have that much malice towards Dean. Not like I had back then.
I wasn't angry. I was just...deflated.
I stepped out of the shower and wiped a hand over the moisture condensed on the mirror. My thoughtful, miserable face stared back at me.
I had no idea what happened now. I had no idea what I wanted to have happen, or what would've happened if things had gone differently this morning. I just knew that it all made me feel sick, and I wanted more than anything to go home and be alone.
Of course, that's when Aaron knocked on the door.
"Liz? Paul wants to speak with you."
I closed my eyes, feeling the brief twitch in my jaw. Well I didn't want to speak to him. Did anybody give a fuck about what I wanted?
"Be out in a minute," I said instead.
I took my time getting dressed, but Aaron was still waiting with the phone when I walked out. I tried to smile as I took it from him.
"Hello, Paul," I said, my voice surprisingly even.
"Liz," he replied, the relief hidden in his voice but still present. "I'm glad to hear your voice."
"Likewise," I lied. "Thank you. For everything."
"It's no trouble at all. We're sending you home tomorrow. I'd like to meet with you later in the week. Obviously, this contract cannot stand."
I heard a ruckus in the background at that, and Dean began cursing at Paul.
"Dean, SHUT. UP." Paul snapped. I'd never heard him speak to one of his boys like that. "You have no say after how badly you fucked up today."
Silence fell in the background. I had an idea that it wouldn't last.
"Let me just reiterate how...sorry I am for this whole situation," Paul continued. "I can assure you that it will be dealt with swiftly and with the appropriate severity."
"Don't you look at me like that," I heard Dean growl in the background. "I don't even know why you're here; this is between me and –"
"It stopped being between you and Liz the minute you dragged my attorney into it."
"Well if he just –"
"NO. NO. You're not turning this around on anybody else. This is all you, Dean. You fucked this up for yourself."
There was silence for a minute. Then, "Let me talk to her."
"No."
"Goddamnit Paul, let me talk to her. I can fix this."
"What are you having trouble grasping? There is nothing. To. Fix. It's done."
"Paul," I broke in. This was bothering me more than I cared to admit. "I gotta go."
"Of course," he said, but then there was a small scuffle on the other end. Knowing what was coming, I waited it out.
"Lizzy," Dean said in my ear.
"What?"
"Come on. Let's stop this...goddamnit Paul, knock it off. She would've hung up on me by now." I heard Paul threatening all manner of punishment in the background. "You fucked up. I fucked up...I fucked up a lot more than you did. Just come back here. We'll send everyone else away and work this out."
I closed my eyes and shook my head. "Why did you punch him, Dean?"
He fell silent. "He got mouthy," he finally said. "I warned him before I hit him."
"How noble of you," I replied dryly.
"That guy has been trying like hell to pull you away from me since the day you met. And he comes knocking on my fucking door tonight after he rides into town like some white knight? Of course I was gonna fucking hit him. He's lucky I only hit him once."
I blinked back tears. Here it was. Here was Dean, in all his glory. Here was the reason I could never go back.
"Are you listening to yourself? You want me to come back when you're talking about how people deserve this kind of abuse from you? Let me guess; I deserved what you did today."
"No," he said after a minute. "All right? You didn't deserve...that."
"But I deserved some kind of punishment, right? How dare I embarrass the great Dean Ambrose?"
"That's not..."
"I don't care," I cut him off. "I don't care what twisted little logic puzzle you're going to present to me. I'm done. I'm going home. And if you come near my house...if you call me...if you text me...if you so much as think my name, I'm getting the police involved. Stay away from me, you goddamn psychopath."
That's when I finally hung up and handed a stunned Aaron Delaney his phone.
"I wouldn't answer if he calls right back," I advised. "He probably won't like hearing your voice after that."
I didn't wait for a response. I went right back into the bathroom to finish combing my hair, my spine stiff with anger and my heart breaking in my chest.
