Hi all, hope you're keeping safe with all the weirdness going on at the moment and I hope Dean and Lauren (or okay, not so much Dean) can help take your minds off everything for a bit.

Mandy, I'm so sorry to hear you're struggling at the moment. Remember, the rain doesn't last forever and it WILL get better for you. Hope Lauren can cheer you up a bit until then. Big hugs.

xXBalorBabeXx, Me too, but the thing with Steph is that you can never really trust her to play fair!

Rebel8954, Haha, I love that visual of Dean sitting sharing food with his new gator buddies! One would have to be named Seth of course and another one would be Tiny!

AngelsDestiny22, Aww, I'm glad that you're happy to see them back and yep, I figured it was about time for a role reversal after everything I've put Lauren through (not that this is a picnic for her!)

Samcoo 12, Steph needs a whole volley of bitch slaps, but with The Authority all around her, Lauren is kind of outnumbered. For now she'll have to bide her time with the bitch slap!

Skovko, Yep, Roman is the big brother/best friend we all need and deserve.

Moxley Gal1, Hmmm, well, I wouldn't want to give too much away, so you'll have to wait and see…

Wolfgirl2013, Aww, thank you!

XwwecoyoteX, Haha, well, Dean riding in at the head of an alligator army would be quite the visual, but I'm not sure I'm going to be able to go in quite that direction! To make up for that though, please accept more of Roman being an absolute gem!

Minnie1015, My lips are sealed on who the help is going to be from. Well, at least until midway through this chapter. But hey, that still counts as suspense right?!

HannonsPen, *bows* thank you, I'm glad my Stephanie is the most despicable out there. But then again, she writes herself since she's so wonderfully awful! You're right though, Operation Save Dean is on!

Phoenix lord of rebirth, Well, you know what they say, love me, love !y cliffhangers (lol!) Plenty more coming up, although I'm giving you a bit of break this week (only a little one though!)

Time to step up the search for Dean!

My Favorite Enemy

"So now let me get this straight here," the cop sighed heavily, pointing accusingly with the tip of his pen as he leaned his hefty bulk in over the desktop of the eighteenth police precinct in Cleveland, Ohio, "You think your husband — ,"

"Dean Ambrose," I interrupted, which earned me a flicker of unimpressed policeman eye,

"You think your husband, Dean Ambrose," he emphasized. Insincerely to my ears, but I could have been wrong, "Was kidnapped by a — ," he peered down at his notes, "Hillbilly, in front of fifteen thousand people?"

I nodded,

"That's right. Although, um," I bit my lip, "Uh maybe you should change the fifteen thousand to fifty thousand instead. You know, because of the people watching at home."

"Oh of course."

Sat somewhere behind me in the waiting area of the eighteenth precinct, which was the only one open at — I checked my watch — half past four in the morning, were two teenage boys who, based on their expressions were drunk and waiting for their parents to show up, a small Asian woman with a large snapping turtle that I could only assume she had either stolen or found and a drag queen in white fishnets with one knee hooked over the other and with a green stiletto heel bobbing around below that. So if that was a regular night in Ohio, then I could almost see why the bulky looking officer seemed so mad.

He blinked at me,

"Wait here."

"Are you going to get sniffer dogs?" I speculated hopefully, "Or call in the FBI? Because Bray is crazy you know."

"Yeah and he ain't the only one."

"I'm sorry?" I replied, figuring I must have misheard him,

"Nothing miss," he chirped, "Now you stay right here and I'll go find someone who can, uh, assist you."

"Thank you so much," I saluted him, "Over and out."

"Right," he nodded, shooting me some serious side eye and then scuttling for the back office. To call a SWAT team in I guessed.

I blew out a sigh,

Good. Something was happening and with the Cleveland police behind me we were to bound find Dean.

Crossing over the doorway I poked my head around it and then looked for our rental, pulled up beside the curb. Roman had stayed behind the wheel making phone calls and ringing the roster to see if they had any news. He looked up when he saw me and so I gave him a thumbs up before ducking back into the precinct again, so I could be there when Officer Grumpy came back with the cavalry and —

"He's calling for a psych evaluation you know," the drag queen drawled laconically from behind me.

I turned myself towards her, frowning heavily,

"Huh?"

"For you," he carried on. Or she carried on I should say, "Because he thinks you're coo coo,"

She twiddled her finger beside her head and I blinked at her, feeling just a little bit outraged,

"No he doesn't. He's gone to get help and — ,"

"A straitjacket?" the drag queen sneered. But not in a cruel sort of way. Not like Stephanie who only knew bitchiness. Instead it was more like the cool kid at school, "Honey, listen, I know how these cops work and that one doesn't believe you. Go take a look."

She waved a manicured hand towards the office, so I slid along the counter and peered through the door.

Officer Grumpbox was perched on a desk edge, whispering into a handset,

"The woman's outta her mind. I mean she thinks her husband got kidnapped by some redneck in front of thousands of people. You better come right away, I get the feeling this broad could turn violent."

I gaped, I could not. Well, except for earlier on, when I had possibly tried to scratch Stephanie's eyes out. But then again everybody wanted to try and do that.

I turned back to the drag queen with a wince,

"Um, thank you?"

"Run sweetie, run," she flapped her hand across the room and I nodded and then made a break for the exit, only narrowly avoiding the huge snapping turtle and with the cop yelling after me,

"Hey lady — lady wait."

Roman seemed surprised by my launch into the rental, but having driven for years with Dean he took the urgency pretty well and so simply clicked the big SUV out of neutral and then pulled away from the curb as I yelled wildly,

"Drive, drive, drive."

"So I take it things didn't go as well as you hoped in there?" he offered eventually as we pulled up to our hotel.

Dean's bag was bobbing around on the backseat, full of his clothes and his things and his smell. His rugged manly smell, which was nothing like what Vince McMahon wore.

I clamped my bottom lip to stop it from wobbling,

"Um, no. Because I think I might have said the wrong thing at some point and made him think I had a mental problem,"

Roman quirked an eyebrow,

"Oh? Is that all, huh?"

Having backed into a space and then shut off the engine, he was already halfway out of the car and loading up his bags, Dean's bag and my bag as I flapped and tried to help,

"Nah. I got this baby girl."

So instead therefore I tried to make myself useful by scuttling ahead and opening the doors and by making sure the elevator didn't close on him and making plans to save Dean. Because I had a lot of those. Some of them good and some of them, uh, not so.

"Okay, So how about we put out a reward? Because somebody must have seen Bray pulling up at a gas station, or driving past. Or we hire a private investigator. Like Remington Steele or Magnum PI."

There was a couple in the elevator car who had clearly been smooching, but who had broken apart hastily as we had stumbled in, with Roman taking up most of the floor space with our eight tonnes of luggage. Oh and Dean's little bag. They shuffled aside to make more room as I rambled,

"Well we've got to do something,"

"I know baby girl."

"Because the thought of Dean being alone and helpless is killing me. God. Is this what he was like the time that Bray kidnapped me?"

The making out couple gaped across at us in astonishment, which I barely even noticed as Roman blew out a breath,

"Actually no, because uce was tearing the place up. Not even Seth could work his magic and calm him back down."

He was going for humor but it didn't work out for him. My bottom lip trembled

"Roman — ,"

"Easy. Easy now, because as much as I hate it, we might just have to face it that we got nothing until Wyatt decides to make his next move and in the meantime trust uce to hold it together."

The elevator pinged way too brightly above us and we shuffled back out to the relief of our smooching friends, who began to make out before the doors were even closed again.

Dean and I liked making out.

Ouch.

I spluttered,

"But what if Bray doesn't come to Raw tomorrow? What if it's like when he kidnapped Kane that time and had him trapped at the compound forever and forever. I can't let that happen to Dean. I just can't."

I was trailing behind him as we headed for our hotel room. Or by which I meant as we headed for our hotel room. As in mine and Dean's. Or what had been mine and Dean's once, but was mine now I guessed. I sucked in a sob and then probably would have broken down and bawled my poor lungs out had the Big Dog not stopped suddenly.

I walked straight into him,

"What the hell?"

Because I was staring at the back of his sweatshirt and trying to untangle myself from his hair, I couldn't see what he was actually proclaiming at, although I heard it. Or rather, I heard them.

"God damn it. There you are. Where have you been? I've been sitting here for hours."

It wasn't Dean — unluckily — it wasn't sexy or even husky enough for that and besides which, it was nasally and super accusing and made me spring around Roman with a baffled frown,

"Seth?"

Because yep, sure enough that was precisely who was sitting there. Or, well, make that clambering up off the floor, where he had clearly been parked with his back to our hotel room and with his long legs stretched out.

"Wh-what are you doing here?"

"You know baby girl, that's a damn good question," Roman rumbled darkly, before grunting, "Take the bags."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Seth scrambled to put his hands up as the Samoan stepped forwards, "I'm here to help you, alright? So spare me the Superman Punch, okay big guy?"

I blinked.

He wanted to help?

Wait, what?

"Have you found Dean?" I gasped in excitement.

Seth pulled a face,

"Uh, can we talk inside?"

"What's wrong?" Roman growled, "Afraid your bosses might see you out here talking to the enemy?"

I was holding the room key up in my hand and so rather than waiting for a formal invitation our former brother simply leaned over and snatched it with a huff, before slotting it easily into the doorway as I stood and gaped back at him in mild affront,

"Hey — ,"

"Will you just get in here," he snapped at us tersely, stomping across the threshold like a tantruming child and then flipping the lights on. Or rather flipping my lights on.

I looked up at Roman and the Big Dog sighed heavily and then shrugged his broad shoulders before letting me in first. Because even in the midst of a kidnapping crisis, Roman Reigns was nothing if not a true gentleman.

Seth was inside waiting to push the door behind us, which he did before hastily throwing across the extra bolt and then starting to wear a threadbare groove in the carpet as he paced backwards and forwards running his fingers through his hair.

Roman dropped the bags and then stood with his arms folded as I sank onto the bedspread.

Holy crap I missed Dean,

"Look," Seth started, from pretty much out of nowhere. Still pacing, "I could get into a whole mess of trouble for this."

"So then why do it?" Roman rumbled back icily, unmoved by the performance.

"Do what?" I squeaked. My heart was thumping in triple time under my blouse front. Because was he, in fact, saying what I thought he was saying? "Have you found Dean?"

Please. Pretty please.

Seth blinked back at me and then sighed heatedly,

"No. I don't know. Yes?"

Well that hadn't been the response I was expecting and so I paused for a second then wet my lips,

"Sooo – ,"

"It means I haven't found him but I might have," Seth snapped back at me, clearly knowing where I was headed.

He was a frustrated mess. Carding his hands through his hair so frantically that I felt there was a good chance his stupid bleached streak would snap off and then fall to the carpet like a pile of glass pieces. Because yikes that thing looked brittle.

"You might have found him?" Roman growled and – oh yes. Right. Missing husband. Focus Lauren, "What does might have found him mean?"

Seth sucked in a breath and I did too and then held it feeling dizzy and sick and barely even able to breathe. I needed to find Dean in order to function. I needed him to be me.

"I know where the compound is."

"What?"

Both Roman and I spoke together on that one. Or alright, so he spoke whereas I sort of squeaked.

"The compound?"

Because how could he know about the compound? No one knew about the compound. Well, I mean, apart from Bray since the compound was the base for all his super evil doings and his home and the centre of his weird cult as well. But there were stories of course though. About the things that went on there. Which was probably where I had dreamed up the crocodile stuff and why I had always imagined a tumbledown shack in a bayou with that weird Spanish moss stuff hanging down off all the trees and with no other neighbors, or people for miles and –

"It's out in New Jersey."

I blinked at him,

"Huh?"

Poof.

There went my fear of man eating reptiles. And fireflies come to think of it.

Roman grunted,

"It's where?"

Because clearly he was having the same problem as I was, except minus the crocodiles. Oops, sorry. Alligators.

Seth shrugged,

"New Jersey. I swear to god. It's in some warehouse that used to pack fish or dog food or something like that. I don't know, I wasn't really listening to that part."

Roman frowned at him,

"Who the hell even told you where it was?"

"Luke Harper."

Oh my god. I slapped my own forehead. Or, okay fine, didn't but really really wanted to, because – Harper. Of course. Why hadn't I thought of Harper. The former Bray Wyatt redneck hillbilly minion who had turned from the dark side a few months before and was one of only three living people on the roster who had been to the Wyatt compound. Well, voluntarily that was. In my excitement I could almost have hugged him. And our former brother too.

"That's genius Seth. Oh my god, thank you. Thank you, thank you so much."

In response he blew a huff out. He was good at doing that. As if everything we did – or I did to be specific – was a drain on his limited patience. But he seemed weirdly awkward too, gesturing from over the room with a head scratch.

Hmm. I wonder if he had picked up that habit from Dean?

"Uh, sure I mean it wasn't exactly rocket science given he used to be a Wyatt, you know? And besides, it kinda wasn't my idea totally. It was Hunter's."

"Hunter's?" I repeated in dog whistle tones of shock and then nearly sliding off the king size in horror as my sweaty palms faltered, "As in – Hunter my dad. As in Hunter Hearst Helmsley? Chief of Operations? That Hunter?"

In return Seth shot me a frustrated look. Two parts withering to one part duh dumbass.

"No Lauren, the other Hunter we have on the staff," he sneered back and okay so his version was like Stephanie. Roman stepped closer in an unspoken warning and Seth dropped it instantly and then took a step back, his hands held up as he bumped into the doorway and rammed one of his kidneys into the door handle.

Good.

"Uh, I mean he was the one who mentioned Harper knowing. But uh, I went and found him and asked and that part. So, you know, that does kinda still make me the hero."

He was trying to get Roman not to scramble his brains out and really it was kind of nice seeing him afraid, since for once he didn't have J and J security or Kane to come along and help uneven up the odds, like he had done every time he and Dean had faced off.

Dean.

"Well then," I chirped, bouncing up, "What are waiting for?"

I had never been part of a rescue mission before, but I had certainly been the object of a kidnapping. Three times in fact, so I felt like I knew what I was letting myself in for. And besides, it was Dean and so even if there were man eating reptiles and croc – um, alligators – then I was ready and prepared. Just so long as it meant getting him back safely.

I had to.

I had nothing else. He was literally all I had.

Which was probably why I was trying to pull some boots on – my thick hiking boots, because they seemed more kickass – when Roman came across the room and pushed them back down again, rumbling gently at me,

"Easy baby girl. Not tonight,"

I frowned at him,

"Huh? But we need to get Dean back. We need to go and save him and – ,"

"And what if we do? What if we drive ourselves out to New Jersey and then get there and find he's been in Cleveland this whole time and we miss Bray showing up on Raw. What then, huh?"

"Oh," I mumbled. I hadn't thought of that. Although if we weren't going riding to the rescue, then that meant – that meant –

Oh no.

I let out a sob,

"Roman please. We can't just leave him. Wh-what if he thinks we're not coming after him? Or what if Bray hurts him, or is already hurting him or – ,"

Oh god, oh god.

Yep, that was it. I was beginning to hyperventilate, which Dean usually handled by kissing me calm. Like the first time the two of us had gone swimming together, or the time I had freaked about meeting his mom. But which obviously wasn't an option for Roman. My vision started spotting – goodbye cruel world – then Seth stomped over with a sigh of frustration and shoved my head between my legs.

"God damn it Lauren, breathe."

Possibly through the shock of having Seth Rollins touch me in a way that implied he was actually concerned, or else because of his bark of instruction, I sucked in a breath through bewilderment alone, then blew it out as Seth pushed me down harder and as my knees crushed my lungs.

"Do it again," he snapped, like the world's most irritable and nasally psychotherapist, but I did what he said and sucked in another breath "Again."

He kept on barking through the next several cycles, right up until I started to feel normal again. Or as normal as I could given my husband had been kidnapped and besides which, he was squashing my boobs into my thighs, which was definitely not a super comfortable position.

"Again,"

"Okay, okay Stalin," I flapped him off and then slowly popped back up with my hair all staticked and sticking up in big clumps like a crazy secretary bird. Roman was knelt by my side looking worried and he helped as I tried to smooth it down,

"Hey, you okay?"

I nodded and then bit my lip,

"Um, I think so. I mean, obviously except for the – ,"

I waved a loose hand and the Big Dog sighed, knowing what it meant exactly without me having to say it. Because what could I say?

Dean.

"I know baby girl. I know," he nodded standing up and giving me a pet on the head, "But if Bray brings uce to the show tomorrow, then I damn sure as hell want to make sure I'm there, so I can go down to the ring and drive by his ugly beard off and Superman Punch him too."

"But what if – ," I sniffed, "But what if he doesn't bring Dean to Raw tomorrow? What happens then?"

Roman's eyes glinted. He didn't do angry, or-punch-yourself-in-the-face mad like Dean often did. But he did do silently and stoically vengeful and it made me shiver. In a good way.

Ooh.

"Well then in that case baby girl, we head on over to New Jersey and teach Bray Wyatt a thing or two about taking our uce. That sound like a plan?"

I grinned keenly,

"Um, hell yeah it does. We'll show that big hillbilly a thing or two. Right Seth?"

Our turncoat former brother blinked back like a deer in headlights,

"Uh, what?"

I faltered,

"Bray. I was talking about Bray. Um, I was saying we're going to teach him a lesson when the three of us get down there to bust Dean out."

"Three?" Seth barked in horror, which I guessed was a maths thing, or possibly the fact that it had been a long day. What with his big PPV match with Cena and then Roman storming in and punching him –

Oops. No wonder he was antsy about being round the big dog and –

Wait. Was that a bruise?

"You me and Roman," I shrugged. Although in hindsight maybe Roman had hit him harder than I had figured. Because, I mean, he was a big guy after all.

Seth let out a laugh and then blinked,

"Are you serious? Do you really think I would go out there with you?"

He looked aghast and a little bit revolted like I had possibly suggested throwing up in his luggage, or skinny dipping together. Which I wouldn't have, because bleurgh.

"But," I spluttered, "But you told us about the compound and you sat outside the door, so that means you have to care."

Seth threw his hands up,

"God damn it, not this shit again. Listen Lauren and this time get it into that thick head of yours. I do not care about you or Dean Ambrose.I don't care about any of you, alright?" he stomped in closer and Roman moved in to match him, like he figured that Seth was maybe going to hurt me somehow. Which he was, but just not with his fists or a curb stomp, "I helped you out so I wouldn't have to see you crying or blubbering into the microphone on commentary forever more. Because that's what you do Lauren. Cry and cause trouble. I'm glad Bray took Ambrose."

I gasped at that – too far – then, oh god began to tear up right on cue again. So perhaps he had a point?

"Get out Seth," Roman growled, stepping in front of him so he couldn't look down at me and watch me snivelling. Seth blinked for a second or two, almost as if he was surprised by the whole thing, but then shrugged back like it meant nothing to him,

"Fine. As if I want to be stuck here with you two."

He turned on his heel and then stalked across the room, where he stood for a minute and fumbled the door handle, which probably wasn't quite the dramatic exit he'd had planned, but served him right for being an asshole.

Seeing him go I launched up from the bedsheets and darted towards him, pulling out of Roman's grasp. Because suddenly I was furious – furious – at him and I wanted him to know that,

"Baby girl, don't – ,"

"Oh yeah?" I yelled as I got to the doorway, completely ignoring Roman in a red blooded mist and also ignoring all the slumbering folks around us, since it was five in the morning, "Go on you coward. Run. We can save Dean without you and kick Bray's evil backside, so we don't need you and we don't want you around. Face it Seth, you're alone and you're always going to be alone because you're a – a dillweed."

Then I slammed shut the door, wondering why I had chosen to use dillweed for the first time in my life right there and right then. But mostly I was just really, really pumped up. I wish Dean could have seen me.

Roman chuckled at me,

"Wow."

"Look like it's just you and me now big man," I told him as he put his arms around me to try and calm me down, but which could never be as good as Dean and his kisses and his swearing and his smell and his arms,

"That's all uce needs."

Poor old Dean. What has Bray been doing to him? Answers on a postcard. Or maybe a hint next week?