It was already late when Renee returned to the hotel. She expected to find it quiet, with most of its inhabitants asleep, especially her coworkers who had to wake up early. A surprise awaited her right there at the reception. Renee couldn't not notice Dean Ambrose talking to a hotel staff. Renee stopped to observe the situation from afar at first. It surely appeared strange. First thing Renee noticed was that Dean was barefoot. Actually not. The lack of clothing attracted her attention too, but she was kind of used to that sight. Even outside of the bedroom. He still had the underwear on, and some white T-shirt. He kept on asking for something or explaining something to the woman in a work uniform. She looked confused, maybe a bit worried. Dean was absolutely freaked out. Renee quietly approached Dean. He was so focused on the conversation – or whatever it was; the woman did not participate much in the talking – that he did not notice Renee suddenly standing just a few steps away from him. She kept listening.

"I don't know," Dean said in a panicking tone. "I just need the –"

He was interrupted by the woman. "Shouldn't I call someone?"

"No."

The woman nodded. Then she turned around and entered some space that was restricted to hotel staff only.

Dean, gripping tightly the edge of the counter now put his arms on the surface and lay his head down.

Renee made the last few steps to be right next to him. Then she stroked his back.

Dean almost jumped. He had no idea someone was near him. "Jesus!" After seeing Renee his breathing slowly returned to normal.

The concerned look on Renee's face pleaded for an explanation. "What's going on?"

Dean sighed. "Nothing. Nothing." His tone was not reassuring at all.

"Dean?"

That was when the woman returned, holding a first-aid kit that she handed to Dean.

"Thanks," he quickly said and was about to run away from there, but Renee stopped him.

"What happened?" Now she was worried too.

But Dean did not care about explaining, he was in a hurry. He hoped Renee would understand, seeing his terrified facial expression and nervousness of his body.

As the elevator was occupied, Dean took the stairs to his floor and ran into his room.

It didn't take much longer for Renee to follow him. She couldn't simply forget what she just witnessed. And even though Dean didn't specifically say anything, something was wrong, she knew that much. When she approached the door to Dean's room, she noticed it was open. Maybe he didn't care for closing it, but maybe he knew she would come. No matter the reason, she entered.

The first-aid kit was lying on the side of the bed. Right next to an almost naked girl. She seemed to be in pain. The blood on and around her knee would probably explain that. Dean was looking at the injury and then inside the kit, hopelessly trying to figure out what to do.

The blond girl's primary concern was the injury, but nevertheless she noticed Renee. "Who are you?" she asked, rather angrily.

"A friend," Renee said, and closed the door. She walked closer to be able to see better what the problem was. Or rather how serious it was.

She shortly shared a look with Dean. There could be apology and guilt seen in his eyes. Right behind him on the floor there was more blood. Renee sighed and Dean opened his mouth. Renee, however, shook her head and said, "I don't wanna know." Then she took the bandage that Dean was holding in his hand. As Renee sat down on the bed, Dean moved away. He wasn't sure what to do, now even less than before.

After short examination, Renee looked up at Dean. "Could you bring some water?"

He nodded and ran into the bathroom. He came back a few seconds later, holding a glass of water. In the meantime, Renee took out of the kit everything she considered useful, or whatever she thought could come in handy. Using the water Dean brought her, she cleaned the wound and its surroundings, and then she got some disinfecting liquid that brought even more pain to the girl. She asked for Dean to hold her hand, but although he hesitated, he sat down on the bed next to her and held her hand as Renee treated her. Renee was careful not to cause her more pain than necessary. The cut didn't seem deep or in any way serious and there was no active bleeding. The carpet probably got most of it. Finally Renee wrapped her knee in a bandage.

"Anything else?"

The girl shook her head.

Dean stood up and moved closer to Renee. "Should I take her to hospital?" he asked, still worried.

"No, I don't think that's necessary. She'll be fine."

Then Renee turned to the girl. "If there's anything wrong, go see a doctor, okay?"

She nodded. "Thanks." She turned to Dean. "Would you call me a cab?"

"Yeah."

Dean grabbed his phone but his eyes lingered on the girl who was not wearing more than her underwear. Renee caught him looking. "I'll help her get dressed. Go wait outside." And Dean obediently left the room. This time he closed the door.

When Renee let him in again, the girl was all dressed up. She had a little trouble walking, but other than the mental damage mirrored on her face she seemed alright. Renee was supporting her, holding the first-aid kit in the other hand. "I'll take this downstairs," she said as she let the girl under his protective wings.

Dean and the girl left first, Renee stayed a little longer for her own convenience. She didn't want to walk them downstairs, having to spend an awkward ride with them in the elevator. Therefore she headed a couple of minutes later, returned the first-aid kit, thanked and shortly explained the situation just so that it wouldn't create a problem for Dean. But they must have seen him walking the girl out so those few people that knew something happened on the fifth floor of their hotel got a good idea what the problem was.

Renee took the lift upstairs. Dean arrived just as the door was closing. Maybe she wasn't quite aware of it, but she spent on the ground floor more time than necessary so that she would bump into Dean again. It'd be weird to just go to her room and it'd be awkward to wait in his.

"I'm so sorry," Dean said as the elevator door closed. "Thank you, Renee. . . . For helping her, for helping me, for not asking any questions."

"I have one question, though. How come a guy so used to being injured freaks out at such a minor accident?"

Dean chuckled. "I don't mind blood, broken nose, cuts, bleeding open wounds as long as I'm the one who's injured. When it's somebody else . . . a girl . . . Jeez, I don't know what to do. Even if it was just a broken nail."

Renee laughed. The beep sound announced the desired floor location.

"Your room looks like a crime scene, you can sleep in my room if you want."

Dean smiled and pressed her hand. "You've already done more than enough. And I don't even know why."

"You looked lost," said Renee.

"Yeah. Let me know how I can repay you."

"You still owe me that dinner," she reminded him.

"Yeah, okay. But you can't cancel on me this time."

"I'm sorry about that. I know it was . . . unprofessional."

"I get it, Renee. You felt guilty doing that. Going out with me, and behind his back."

"Hey," Renee stroked Dean's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "I'll find balance."

"Eventually," Dean added. "How about for now no dinners?"

Renee sighed. Then she looked at Dean again. "Dean? You've got some experience in befriending your exes. How do you make that work?"

"Cassie?"

"Of course."

Dean reflected, "We've been apart . . . more than ten times longer than we'd been together. But that pattern doesn't apply to us. But other than that, other than that there are no leftover feelings whatsoever, she takes interest in my love life, my problems, but she mocks me, points out to me my mistakes, makes fun of my job, my matches, always cheers for somebody else. I know that deep inside she respects me, but on the outside she gives me a hard time, as any other good friend that knows me too well would. You know, she's one of those friends that would kick me when I'm down." Dean chuckled.

"I don't think I could do that," Renee admitted.

"I know."

"Then what do we do, Dean?"

"We keep trying. Obviously not the way I did tonight . . ."

Renee broke the silence that emerged. "I know it's late but . . . wanna watch a movie?"

Dean thought about it. His mind was flooded with all the options, all the consequences his decision could have. The pros and cons. His was too tired for that internal struggle. And when he thought of what might happen, the options varied from actually having a good time, through awkwardly falling asleep to sleeping together. "Maybe some other time," Dean said. "I'm exhausted. And I'm not sure what might happen," he chose to be honest and admitted the truth.

"And you're sure you're okay sleeping in that bloody bed?"

"Nah, it's not that bad. Besides, it wouldn't be the first time," Dean joked. Then he turned serious. "I'll take off the sheets."

"Won't you be cold?"

Dean started to wonder whether, by any chance, it wasn't that Renee didn't want him to sleep in his room. Did she want him sleeping in her room? Did she just want to make sure he was okay or was there more to it? Dean couldn't tell what her real intentions were, but he was set on staying in his room for the rest of the night. Alone.

"I'll be fine. But thank you for caring. And . . . thank you for everything. I really appreciate it, Renee."

"No problem."

When she smiled, Dean kissed her on the cheek. "I hope that's okay."

She nodded. The smile stayed on.

"See you in the morning?"

"Yeah."

"Goodnight, darling. I mean, Renee. I'm sorry, I know you don't want me saying it."

"You know what? It's okay."

Dean was happy to hear that. Surprised, confused, but happy. His brain was working overtime to understand what was happening, but he couldn't. Nothing made sense. Maybe it'd be better to simply accept it. And he did. Still smiling, he waited for her to get back in the elevator. "Goodnight," Dean whispered. The door closed. She was gone.

Dean did not feel so light-hearted in a long time. Despite all the mistakes, he was happy. Everything seemed turning out right for some strange reason.

He walked through the hallway until he reached his room. He entered and stopped to look at the mess. It wasn't that bad. Not from the physical damage to the room point of view. The blood stain on the carpet was something he couldn't do anything about right now. The blood on the sheets was low in volume. It probably wouldn't even bother him, but he put the sheet aside. Eventually, it ended up on the dirty carpet.

Shower didn't seem necessary. Dean was too tired, too mentally devastated. He took his clothes off – or what was left of it – turned the lights off, and lay down in bed. He wondered what Renee was doing. It was strange how he did not care about the girl that got hurt because of him tonight. Sure, it was awful, but it simply did not matter to Dean. What he thought about was Renee. What he pictured was Renee. Even after his eyes closed, he still saw her. Even as his brain was shutting down, she remained in his thoughts. Dean hoped that he would dream about her. Maybe his imagination could offer him an idea of what could have happened if he decided to spend the night in her room instead. At least if he had done that, she would have been the first thing he would see in the morning. Now, he was destined to wake alone.