Time for Lauren to try again with Mama Ambrose! Happy Extreme Rules Eve by the way. Still optimistically hoping for a mega surprise Dean return but it is a distant hope at this point. Hope it's a good one though!
Skovko, Yep, the earring was always going to pop back up at some point because it was way too tantalizing to leave it hanging in the open! Haha, I think punching is too much work for Mama Ambrose especially if she doesn't get a drink at the end of it (but there is a punch though!)
Mandy, Aww, glad you liked it. Dean was totally going for fiancé of the year in that one but of course he knew how much it meant to Lauren so didn't hesitate for a second. He is too good! Lauren is finding her feet with Mama Ambrose too…more of that here!
Wolfgirl2013, Oooh nice guess, but nope, it's not Hunter and Randy (can you imagine what they would think about Dean's hometown in their swanky suits? Lol!) But it is someone we've met before if only briefly. Read on to find out who!
xXBalorBabeXx, I know, the guy saw a chance to make some money and went for it even though Lauren's earring wasn't his. Still there's always someone who's willing to try and make a buck. Guess he's lucky Dean paid up and didn't hit him lol!
Minnie1015, Lauren is going to do even more sticking up for herself in this one (against various people to be honest). But yeah, when she has to the girl can speak her mind even if it does sometimes turn into mindless babble! Ballsy Lauren coming right up!
Labinnacslove, I think the earring got there by fate. Someone found it and sold it to an antiques shop then it got sold on and again until it ended up right where it needed to be! See, more proof that going to Dean's hometown wasn't the worst idea in the world (until this chapter maybe!)
Moxley Gal, Aww, happy birthday for yesterday! Sorry I didn't update but I've got two stories on the go being posted on the same day and if I skip one or change one up I'll get myself all confused! Hope you had a lovely day though with loads of cake!
ShieldGirlBecky, If you liked Lauren being badass in the last one, I think you'll like this chapter too. Also Mama Ambrose is in it so expect some sparks! Dean was pretty amazing in the last chapter but there's still time in this story for him to be even more brilliant *hints at things to come*
Rebel8954, Mama Ambrose sure is something else! Bit more of her in this chapter too but hopefully she's not totally beyond saving...okay, she totally is but Lauren can at least try and build some bridges! Hope the move and new job are working out!
Here comes Mama Ambrose...
Fighting With Fire
Perhaps predictably when we returned from the market with both of my mom's earrings newly and happily in tow, my soon to be in-law had been notably missing and so therefore – I assumed – had trotted back out for more booze. I looked towards Dean a little tentatively in response to it,
"Do you want to go out looking again? Because it's fine if you do. I can stay here maybe, or get into the footwell whenever you go into a bar?"
I wasn't even making false platitudes either since it was absolutely my role to help however I could, besides which he had just shelled his hard earned cash out for me in order that I could bring my own mother back close and so therefore the least I could do was return the favor. Even if it meant being hunkered and feeling terrified in the shadowy bowels of our old rental car, trying to dodge the inhabitants of the city who preferred to be out under the cover of dark.
Eep.
Dean however blew a heavy sounding breath out and then shook his head, looking both weary and hugely pissed, which I figured was probably from a lifetime of such antics and which his following huffed out statement then proved right,
"You know what? Not this time. Done this fuckin' dance plenty an' I'm all outta patience."
He ran his hand through his hair and then swiped it over his face pretty roughly as he rubbed at his features like he was trying to smudge them off. I tiptoed up and trapped it between my fingers,
"How can I make this better?"
"Don't think you can, I mean you just – like – bein' here makes it fuckin' better but you can't change the way she is y' know? My mom is just my mom."
I looked up sadly,
"So then what's the plan handsome?"
Having learned from the previous evening we had taken the opportunity to have dinner out, besides which the both of us were still loaded up on samples and had a whole bag of goodies I had bought throughout as well. Dean sighed again but then pulled me towards him and grumbled into the long brown tangle of my hair, obviously feeling emotionally battered in a way that I hated,
"Let's just fuckin' go to bed."
"Okay."
I turned to lead him into the bedroom like a mother shepherding her over-tired child but stopped as he pulled on my hand just a little and then grinned at me wearily,
"Maybe we'll watch that film."
"What film?"
"The porn one you said about earlier with the girls on the bar top."
I bit back a smile,
"It's not a porn film, it's a sweet romantic comedy."
He held up his hands,
"As long as there's strippin' involved then I'm in."
Rolling my eyes I tried my best to look reproachful but as he walked past and goosed me the censure tailed off as instead I let out a squeak of amusement then followed him in to get ready for bed.
"Dean – ,"
Naturally being a man it took him less than three minutes to shuck from his clothes and re-ruffle his hair which meant that by the time I had changed and headed into the tiny bathroom to take off my make-up he already had Netflix up and had tracked down the movie and about three replacement options that were very much of the band wagon full-on porno style and which I then had to convince him was likely not a better option before he offered up a grin and thankfully chose the proper film.
"Leann Rimes sang the soundtrack."
"You're not makin' this sound sexy."
I slapped his chest lightly as the titles rolled,
"Shush."
Being that we were once again crammed into his teenage single bed, we were forced to lie like a bizarre deck of cards, with him on his back propping the tablet on his midriff, with me squashed beside the wall with my head under his neck and using his abs like a glorious arm rest but which was hugely romantic and snuggly and close. I wasn't sure at what point he fell asleep on me, but when I looked across about a half an hour from the ending in response to his heavy breathing he was out for the count and I smiled at his beautiful contented little features before taking the tablet and turning it off, then finishing with a kiss that he barely even stirred at and a tiny little whisper,
"Goodnight Dean."
He slept pretty heavily from that point onwards and clearly needed to, since not even what I hoped was his mother stumbling in again at about half past three managed to properly wake him up, which was pretty impressive since she tripped over something and upended a saucepan with a veritable crash. I flinched and then waited, but after pausing very mildly he simply went back to his heavy breathing thing again, while I lay wide awake, listening to the sounds of grumpy mumbling and cursing and possible pain floating in from outside.
Crap.
I knew I had to go and check up on her, because what if she had fallen and maybe hurt herself or had possibly broken something either bone-based or culinary that she was then far too wasted and hammered to clean back up? Extracting myself from Dean wasn't easy because his arm had been braced protectively over my back, essentially pinning me to his chest like a teddy bear and so I had to reverse on my hands and knees out, inching like some sort of idiotic lizard in a desperate attempt not to accidentally wake him up and nearly tumbling clean off the mattress as I came across the bottom far sooner than I had thought.
"Whoops."
Luckily I thankfully managed to right myself before I tumbled over onto the floor, which would probably have woken up Dean in an instant since he had an inbuilt radar for whenever I was about to come to harm. Groping in the darkness for our carefully packed cases, I seized up then slid on my light summer robe, tying it tightly to hide my loose vest top before pausing for a second, taking a breath and then stepping out. His mother was on her hands and knees in the kitchen and I blinked –
Uh oh.
Not a positive start but in spite of that I kept on going, shivering a little as my bare feet hit the floor, then stopping to pull the bedroom door closed behind me and taking care not to let the lock or handle let out a click. I wasn't really sure what the hell I was doing and that became apparent as I moved tentatively in, folding my arms vulnerably over one another and then whispering a little,
"Um are you okay?"
Mama Ambrose whipped up much like I had shot her – or perhaps more possibly – like she might have shot me and then clutched her heart in outright panic before blowing an angry breath out,
"Holy crap girl."
I winced at her regretfully,
"I'm really sorry but I heard a sort of a crash and I wanted to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself out here or that you didn't need any help clearing up anything."
"I'm fine."
Her blunt tones left little room for discussion and at first glance nothing seemed to look too out of place and so I tried to brush off the continued resentment with a false little smile and then a throwaway shrug,
"Oh – um – okay, then I guess I'll see you in the morning."
I was halfway back across the space to the bedroom in a weirdly tiptoed walk when I heard her breathe out a sigh then clamber to her feet with no small amount of effort before grumbling at me,
"Lauren right?"
"Uh huh."
"Pull up a seat kid," Mama Ambrose gestured towards the table and I paused for a moment not sure I wanted to accept since I literally had no idea what she might say to me or if she might try to threaten me or upset me or cause more hurt, but which her hazy looking eyes were sharp enough to pick up on as she snorted a little wryly, "I promise not to bite this time."
Haha.
Instead of throwing that back at her however, I managed what I hoped was a pleasant little nod and then inched myself into a chair at the table like I expected to find it had been padded by grenades. Fortunately it was not. His mother slid in opposite then moved to hook a cigarette up, before remembering the earlier insistence and sneering,
"Do you mind?"
"Um, no."
But my hesitance meant everything and surprisingly she sighed but then let her shaking calloused hand drop back and instead began to idly pick at the table top in the same itchy-fingered way that her son frequently did and which I therefore assumed was an inherited sort of restlessness that all of the Ambrose kin must have shared but which also underlined with startlingly reality that I was trying to build a relationship with my fiancé's mother here.
My next words would be important.
"I bought you some taffy – um – there was a stall giving away samples and I tried a whole bunch and then bought you some of the – uh – the salted caramel because it tasted the nicest – or – I mean, at least I thought it did."
His mother blinked back at me randomly.
"You what now?"
In response I stood uncertainly and headed into the kitchen, where the multitude of bags from the shopping trip had been parked up and which I then began to clumsily sort through, pushing aside packs of candy and some salami before producing her present in a small cardboard box which had the label of the individual taffy-maker on it in a way that highlighted how home-made it was and which I then turned back to her holding out like a doctorate or maybe a trove of long lost Incan gold. Despite Dean insisting that his mother hadn't needed or deserved anything from our afternoon out, I had still been determined to buy a peace offering but had panicked and bought her the taffy instead. I wasn't even sure she even liked that kind of thing and – pretty unhelpfully – neither had he, so I had taken the chance and snaffled a box up in the hopes it would work to smooth our familial wrinkles out.
Instead it only seemed to confuse her.
"Why in the hell would you buy something for me girl?"
I shrugged,
"Because it's what I was taught. My mom always said that if you stayed in someone's house or were invited to a person's home then you needed to bring a gift and because this whole trip was kind of thrown at me I didn't have the time to get anything before now."
His mother raised a brow,
"Your mama taught you that huh? Guessing you must be pretty like her?"
"I – I hope so."
"The two of you were close then?"
My answer came out a little bit shaky but I forced it through regardless of that, not entirely sure why the woman was asking but all too happy to give her whatever she needed to know,
"She was my best friend."
Mama Ambrose blew a sigh out and for a second I couldn't tell if it was a sound of frustration or else a noise of sympathy or some complex mix of both and so I simply stood in silence holding out the box of taffy which she eventually swiped from my hesitant hand with a grunt. Pulling the folds open she unwrapped a candy and then wasted little time throwing it into her mouth, probably because it fought the need down for a cigarette and so I was pleased that my tasty treat had a positive use. Even if it possibly wasn't exactly to her liking –
"Too damn sweet."
"Oh."
"Not the taffy Princess. I mean you – buying me shit and thanking me for staying and making my kid fall over himself in love. 'Bout figure it will break him into a million pieces when it all falls apart."
I blinked at her,
"What?"
"When it all falls apart," she shot back idly as she stuffed some more taffy into her face and either ignored or else fully missed the outrage which flashed across my features as I goldfished back,
"It won't."
"Yeah sure it won't sweetheart."
My fists clenched up hotly at her lack of belief,
"It won't because I love your son more than I've ever loved anyone and he's given me everything that I could ever possibly want and he makes me feel like I'm actually worth something and – ,"
"But what about when you get tired of his crazy ass world? I mean this city isn't no place for a pretty little country girl and the way I see it is that one day you'll realize that and leave him in the dust and break his damn heart and when you do, that boy will hit self destruct mode and then no one will be able to drag him outta the hole. You're too damn fragile and helpless and innocent to make this last."
I may have frowned at her a bit –
Possibly even a lot as I gaped irately and began to feel myself getting slowly churned up, because how in the world could she suddenly claim to know me when she had spent the past day trying to pretend I wasn't there or from watching a television show for a couple of hours? She simply had no right to try and tell me who I was.
I scowled at her passionately,
"Look, I know you don't know me and that maybe you're upset someone has stolen your baby boy, because someone told me that there's this thing with sons and mothers and – well, anyway, that isn't important now – but what is important is that since starting with the company and first meeting Dean I've become someone else and okay, so maybe that person isn't the smartest and is totally not the bravest a lot of the time but I have still been through not one, but two separate kidnappings, full on murder attempts and being hit in the head. I have been grabbed and groped and leered at and threatened but I'm still here and no one is going to scare me away. Randy Orton tried to and failed hopelessly at it and that's how I know you're going to fail too, so to summarize then, I suggest you eat your taffy, maybe thank me for it a little and accept that I love your son."
Phew.
I finished with an actual bodily inhale as I remembered that at no point had I actually paused for breath and so therefore was starting to blink little spots of blackness that I was keen to get rid of since passing out in front of her would have been a bad look. In fact maybe the whole thing had been bad in general because she blinked coolly back at me and it made me gulp.
Not good.
Eventually however she blew another snort out and although it was derisive it was mildly impressed too and either way devoid of the right hook I had been warned about and which I had momentarily totally been expecting to arrive.
"Well would you look at that," she spat out in mild amusement, "Maybe you do have some balls after all."
"Um – ,"
I was opening my mouth to respond to that somehow when the bedroom door creeped open and a figure stumbled slowly out, with copper hair mussed and utterly adorably as his gorgeous baby blues blinked into the light.
"Princess? What in the hell is goin' on out here – fuck – you alright?"
Evidently he had woken to the sound of low voices and on finding the bed empty had then feared the worst and staggered through assuming that his mother was trying to kill me or was packing my bags for me and trying to force me onto the street. Instead she was sitting stress eating balls of homemade taffy in the clothes from the day before while I stood awkwardly by the stove.
His mother snorted,
"I told the girl before, I don't bite people."
"Yeah? Because there's about three or four boyfriends who I'm pretty sure would disagree and then there was that fucker that you tried to stab with the screwdriver – ,"
Wow.
Had I known that before I would have never talked back, especially since the new remembering of the shanking made the older woman in front of us smile and then chuckle a little like she had forgotten all about it but appreciated the trip down memory lane. Dean looked up and let his hazy blues burn through me, searching for any signs of obvious harm and it warmed me to the point that I flashed a smile back at him and bit a quick bubble of adoration down,
"I'm fine."
"You sure about that?"
"Uh huh, we're all peachy."
He snorted a little like he thought that was a lie and perhaps it both was and wasn't simultaneously because while I still wasn't best buddies with his mother, it felt like some sort of equilibrium had tipped and which she further enhanced by looking up briefly and eyeing me shrewdly,
"We were having a little girl chat is all."
Dean lifted an eyebrow but then beckoned me towards him as he stifled a yawn, clearly hoping to hustle us back off into bed again before the mood could crumble or something else could go wrong but which had probably been doomed to failure from the outset since that had never really been how our lives had worked out and so was therefore the reason there was a sudden loud banging and then angry sounding shouting that bled in through the front door,
"Hey, you in there? I know you are. I want my stuff back."
Dean blinked in startled confusion,
"The hell?"
I even flinched a little at the pounding since I was the one stood closest to the sound and then realized that looking frightened undermined my earlier ballsiness and so instead tried to look like it hadn't bothered me at all.
His mother seemed not to notice,
"Damn."
"Mom, who is it?"
In response she clambered to her feet like they were lead and then rolled her eyes which served as a refusal, before moving towards the door like she was going to open it up but in the end only pressing her thin lips to it and bellowed back through testily,
"Go home Eric, I ain't talking until you've sobered the fuck up."
Eric thumped louder, not pleased by the reception,
"You god damn bitch, you gimme my pills back."
"Mom?" Dean growled the word out fiercely and then furnished it further by raising his brow and tensing his jaw the way he did when he was angry and walking a fine line between staying calm and throwing a punch, "Did he say just say pills? What the fuck did you do this time?"
His mother waved a hand at him,
"Please, it's something and nothing that's all."
"Not to him it's not," Dean emphasized hotly as our new friend Eric began to shoulder charge the front door, or tried it once anyway and then reeled off swearing before banging his fists again,
"You got 'bout ten seconds before I bust my way in there."
Realistically it was probably more like ten years except thankfully no one chose to correct him since he seemed to be having a hard enough time as it was. Mama Ambrose rolled her eyes however and from that I deduced that Eric possibly wasn't all there or frequently trampled round to swear through the woodwork like it was maybe some crazy little ritual they had.
"Mom – ,"
"Look I may have taken a bag from him, but it was only because I know what the man is like and I knew if he had them he would probably get caught with them and end up getting his ass thrown in jail."
Dean snorted,
"Sure, because you're a real good Samaritan."
Eric tried to ram his heated way in again but failed and evidently thinking the whole thing was pitiful or keen to not wake the neighbors, my nearly-mother-in-law sighed and then reluctantly crossed the room before unbolting the catches and throwing the door wide sounding frustrated,
"What you idiot?"
Oh god.
Looking back at her was the same guy from earlier who had tried his best to slash Dean with his knife before turning tail and running like he had been physically scalded but who was suddenly right in front of me. How in the world was he there and how in the world did Mama Ambrose know him? Dean expressed those thoughts a bit more audibly,
"Holy fuck – ,"
In response to the bark the eponymous Eric blinked up and then squinted through the orange kitchen lights and I could almost see the cogs in his brain vibrating and grinding through the rust layers before clicking into place. It took perhaps a couple of seconds, but when recognition came, it hit him like a bolt and he breathed out a noise that was a mix of several cuss words then let his eyes fall open like he had spotted a ghost,
"You guys?"
Dean's mother blinked,
"How in the hell do you know each other?"
Dean snorted wryly,
"We met the fucker yesterday when he was threatenin' Lauren and then he tried to slash me when I told him to move on, he thought he got me too, that's why he's over there all fuckin' nervous – ,"
His mother turned with fury towards her friend,
"You knifed my kid?"
In many ways I briefly felt sorry for Eric because he genuinely looked like a rabbit in headlights, since not only was he facing down his formerly-thought murder victim but also the testy mother as well, which I had to assume was the worst part of that equation.
Eric shook his head,
"I didn't – give me my fuckin' pills."
"If you're gonna hurt my son then you don't even deserve them."
It was actually quite nice to see her rallying for her boy and filled me at once with a warmth for the family that I hadn't been able to conjure until that point, but which then rapidly died as Eric reached his crescendo and then essentially toppled clean over the edge. Blowing out a hot cuss he suddenly burst forwards, pushing the older woman roughly aside and then launching for me with such a total lack of warning that I barely even had enough time to scream or breathe.
Dean barked sharply,
"Lauren – ,"
But it didn't make a difference because Eric already had his arm around my neck, pulling me towards him so that I bounced against his sweatshirt and then holding me firm as he pulled out the knife. Instantly my stomach flipped over in situ and I shut my eyes and let a tiny squeak out because even though he hadn't extended the blade part he could have done in a heartbeat with a flick of his wrist.
Oh no, oh no.
Both Dean and his mother froze in uncertainty in the middle of the room, although for my part I only had eyes for my fiancé and his look of pure fury which helped keep me calm –
Mildly.
Behind me and right beside my earlobe, Eric suddenly bellowed and the volume made me jump and then let loose a shudder because his arm was wrapped so tightly that I could smell his body odour and the liquor on his breath.
"Give me my pills, give them to me now, or I swear to god – ,"
Dean barked sharply,
"Hey, take it easy man – mom?"
But the woman in front of us seemed unfortunately reluctant to step in and help to save my ass and I could have sworn that she actually rolled her eyes a little before throwing her hands up like a sullen teen,
"Fine."
Plodding across the room she reached into the pocket of the beaten up coat hanging over a chair, then rummaged around before pulling a zip-lock bag out that was rattling with a good handful of tiny white pills. I had no idea what they were or what might have been in them considering that I had only seen illicit drugs at school and only then when the police had come around to give talks on them and had passed around pictures of the type of things we might find. Not that I actually had the time or the awareness to think about any of that part too hard, considering that a knife-wielding maniac was pinning me and by all accounts was mentally falling apart.
Dean's mother paused for a second,
"Ugh, take it – ,"
In watching the little bag get thrown suddenly towards us Eric peered up and the arm around my neck dropped away as he tried to figure out how he was going to catch his substances with both of his overly meaty hands already full. I bit my lip in response to the falter because it seemed like the moment to try and do something brave. Nine months earlier Dean had spent time lecturing me on the very basic premise of how to punch a man out and I had used it to a mixed bag of results one or two times, but only when I felt like I really needed to.
Like then?
My head was screaming –
Do it, do it.
Dean was looking over and his gaze made me shiver and want more than anything to make it back to his arms and which was probably why I then threw back my elbow and buried it right into the hostage taker's gut before curling up my fingers in a fist of vague fury which I spun and then launched into his ugly face.
Bam.
Instantly everything slowed down around us, including the pain which then blossomed across my hand and the expression of surprise which Eric suddenly started wearing as he toppled over backwards and hit the dirty hardwood floor which was then further compounded as the little zip-lock package of illegal substances hit his temple and then made him pass clean out.
"Princess," Dean swept in behind me pretty rapidly and encircled me breathlessly with his ever loving arms as he spun me towards him away from the carnage and hauled my trembling body with purpose against his own.
"Dean – ,"
"Easy, you're alright, it's okay now, I gotcha."
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have – ,"
"You're okay. Fuck."
Behind us his mother watched us briefly for a second and then simply began to drag poor hopeless Eric towards the door, sliding his drunken carcass over the floorboards and then using her foot to push him over the threshold. Having seemingly learnt her lesson, the bag of pills went out after him, but she picked up and then very wisely canned the offending knife before snorting at the grumbling form of the idiot and then very pointedly slamming the door. Brushing her hands off she crossed the living room beaming and with a lightness to her step that I hadn't seen from her before, which seemed totally parallel to what had just happened and the knife wielding loon laid outside her front door.
In fact she snorted at me,
"Looks like you might fit in here after all, thanks for the taffy by the way kid, it tastes real good. Oh, 'bout your mother and that whole side of this business? I – uh – I guess I'm real sorry for your loss."
"Um, thanks."
But then in the very next second she was gone again, leaving Dean to grumble in fury into my hairline and then turn for her bedroom like he was going to haul back her out and which I responded to by scrabbling wildly at his shirt folds because the adrenaline was rapidly beginning to tail off and the tears were setting in like a bank of cloud cover and I wanted and needed his arms to hold me close.
Dean resisted,
"Let me go Princess. She's the reason that asshole came round here and she's the reason he nearly fuckin' hurt you, so if she thinks that she can just walk off and forget this then – ,"
I buried my head into his chest and shivered,
"Please."
"Fuck," Dean carded his hand through my tresses and then kissed my crown, "You're alright now baby. He's gone an' there's no way I'm lettin' him near you again ever. If I see his face round here he's dead."
He pulled me closer and being wrapped in his aftershave and familiar aroma helped to quell the fierce hurt, even though my knuckles still stung a little and my heart felt like it might erupt into bits.
I shuddered a breath in and then whispered a sentence,
"Dean?"
"What's wrong baby?"
I felt it needed to be said, because in the moment it was the only real thing I could think of and so I tremored it out proudly.
"I – I think your mom likes me now."
Next chapter Lauren gets to look at some proper wedding dresses before a worrying call puts an end to that, see you there!
