Hello, lovely readers.
So the last chapter was a little tense! But you all seemed to love it! It was very crazy and now we get to see the aftermath. This is sort of a continuation of the chapter, or part two. Enjoy!
KairiAnneYukari21 – Dean could easily handle it. He's nuts, after all.
Raquel the writer – Thank you!
Tantoune – Dean is a total boss. You don't want to get on his wrong side at all! He's so attractive when he's like that.
Haha95 – Go Dean indeed! So badass
Hollarious969 – You want another update? Well here it is! Enjoy!
Guest – That's fine. I understand that this story isn't to everyone's liking
Crazy-wild-and-free – Thank you! Your reviews are always so awesome and detailed. It's very motivating as a writer. I wanted the chapter to be nerve-wracking and intense so I'm glad it worked. I just try to write Holly's reaction in the same way as I would react to seeing such things. Its more realistic that way. And as for darker Dean, Holly is definitely breaking through his walls. He's starting to see her as a positive in his life and he's reacting accordingly and keeping her safe. Thank you for the constant support and I hope you enjoy part 2.
Beautifultragedyxxx – It was very tense and emotional. That's exactly what I wanted so I'm glad it kept you on the edge of your seat. This chapter is a little calmer thankfully. So your emotions are safe.
Dutchangel1979 – Aww that's so sweet of you to say. I notice you always review on both my stories, and I'm so grateful for the support. You're awesome!
Wolviegurl – Thank you!
This chapter is named after 'Talk' by Coldplay
Holly Helmsley's Point Of View
We were quick and we were silent as we made our way through the hotel foyer, rushing to the closest elevator and pressing the button to call it. I looked around nervously, Dean ignoring the passers-by who stared at the bloody cut on his face. He simply stood there, tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for the elevator to arrive.
My nerves were shot so I was highly relieved when it finally did. He grabbed my hand tighter and pulled me inside, the doors closing behind us.
"What floor is your room on?" he asked.
"Uh, six," I said.
"Did you notice whether you had a first aid kit in there?" he questioned.
"I dunno… maybe," I replied.
"I'll take the chance," he said, pressing the button for floor six. "I don't wanna have to go to my room and explain this to Seth and Roman."
The elevator gently began to move, the only noise filling the space being the hum of the motor moving us up.
I rested against the wall, watching him intently with focused eyes, honestly not knowing what to say to him in that moment. What can you say to a guy who has just gone through shit like that? I'd never seen anything like it before. The way he fought five of them off so easily, the way he barely broke a sweat, the way he struck the fear of death into them…
The way he knew exactly where you were and managed to swoop in at exactly the right time…
My eyebrows furrowed, so many questions running through my head. And since our elevator ride was currently filled with an uncomfortable silence, I figured now was the best time to get some of those questions answered.
"So how did you know where I was?" I asked him curiously.
"I saw you leave the bar," he replied, his eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of him. "That group of douche-bags was in there too. I saw them smirking and muttering to themselves as they followed you out. I didn't like the look of them so I chased after them to make sure they didn't cause any trouble. It's a good job I did."
"I see," I said in understanding, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. "I guess I was lucky you were in there tonight."
"Yeah. I guess you were," he responded.
We were awkwardly silent again, my eyes carefully scanning his face. It seemed blank and expressionless, his eyes giving nothing away as to what his mind was thinking. His body seemed stiff and tense, but his face gave me no clues to how he was feeling, what the entire encounter had done to him. Finally my eyes landed on the giant cut spread over his cheek. The trail of blood that had fallen down his skin had since dried, and I knew he'd have to get it cleaned up soon. I wasn't sure if it would scar, but the longer we left it, the more people would question it.
"Does it hurt?" I asked.
"Does what hurt?"
"The cut on your face."
He laughed lightly to himself. "Nah, it doesn't hurt. I used to get cuts like these all the time. It's nothing I'm not used to."
"Oh," I said quietly, wondering what he meant by that.
Dean was a bit of an enigma is some ways, his personal life closely guarded. He had this crazy split personality of which I'd seen both sides. I'd witnessed the happy, carefree, kind Dean, but I'd also seen the crazy, unstable, lunatic side to his character. I often wondered what had driven him to act like this, what had happened in his past to make him seem so insane and act so fucked up. If he'd experienced weapons, violence and knives before, where the fuck had he come from?
"What room you in?" he asked as the elevator eventually came to a halt.
"606," I replied as the doors opened.
"Cool. Get your key ready," he said as he grabbed my hand again and marched us to my room. We wandered the corridors of the hotel quickly to avoid being seen before he came to a halt in front of the door saying 606. I quickly pulled my room key from my bag and unlocked the door, switching on the lights as we stepped inside.
"I think there was a first aid kit in the bathroom," I said as I walked over to it. "I'll just get it."
"Good," he said, taking a seat on my bed. "Fetch a glass of water too. My mouth is as dry as a nun's vagina after all that."
I did as I was told, filling the glass and retrieving the first aid kit from the cupboard under the sink. I quickly returned to Dean, handing him the first aid kit and drink. He downed the water in one before he took the kit from me, opening it up and spilling the contents of it onto the bed beside him. He searched through the many things within, grabbing something in a paper wrapper, tearing it open with his teeth. He pulled out an alcohol covered wipe, and I knew this was to remove the blood safely and cleanly from his face.
I could only sit there and watch him as he tended to his wounds. He looked like he'd done this before, quickly finding a few other things from the pile on the bed before wiping the wipe harshly over his skin. He winced, taking a sharp intake of breath.
"Shit. Mother-fucker stings," he muttered.
"That's because you're pressing too hard," I said. "You need to be softer. Here, give it to me."
He sighed, handing me the wipe. I shuffled closer to him, kneeling on the bed and leaning over. I held his head in my hand, tilting it and gently pressing the thin cloth to his wound, softly wiping the blood away.
"That feels a little better, I guess," he admitted.
"You're too heavy handed," I said. "You can't be so rough."
"You know a lot about this," he commented.
"Hunter wrestled for years, don't forget," I said. "He was constantly getting cuts and bruises. Steph and I were always patching him up."
"Fair enough," he said as I continued to clear the rest of the blood away.
"That guy really did a number on you," I commented as the cut became clearer to see now it was cleaner. "It runs pretty deep."
"I've had worse," he said. "Had one right across my stomach once."
I looked into his eyes, mine narrowed. "Considering you often swoop in like the good guy and save me, you aren't exactly a squeaky clean guy like Cena for example, are you?"
He looked at me, the smirk on his face crystal clear. "Believe me, sweetheart, I'm nowhere near as clean as John Cena. Far from it."
"So talk to me about it," I said as I continued to clean his wound, hinting for him to open up to me a little more. "What kind of stuff did you do before WWE?"
I genuinely wanted to know. Considering they worked for us, I knew very little about who The Shield actually were as people. I knew nothing of their pasts, their personal lives, their likes and dislikes. They intrigued me, I was curious as to who they were. And after all the little hints Dean had dropped about his past, he was the one who intrigued me the most.
"You wouldn't want to know, kid," he replied.
"Try me," I challenged him.
This seemed to amuse him greatly, his blue eyes enticed by my dare.
"Fine… I used to wrestle before I came to WWE," he began. "But it wasn't your average, every day, PG era wrestling. This shit was bloody, it was violent and it was harsh. I rarely left a match without a cut, gash or broken bone."
I blinked. "You used to hurt yourself?"
"All the time. We used all sorts of shit. Barbed wire, weed whackers, I even used a chain-saw once."
My eyes widened as I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Y-You did?"
No wonder he was a fucking insane lunatic!
He watched me closely. "Does that kind of shit scare you, kid?"
"Well it's… different," I said. "It's not exactly what I'm used to."
I'd finally cleaned the cut and began sorting out a plaster for him to wear overnight.
"It was pretty fucked up," he continued. "But it was a hell of a lot of fun. And I didn't mind the blood, the gore or getting cut up."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because the only person I had to give a shit about was me so I could be as insane and crazy as I liked. I didn't have many friends and I barely kept in contact with any of my family. I was a pretty lonely guy, and the violence was a way to make me actually feel something. I often went into matches with the intention of getting fucked up."
I stopped and looked up at him. "That's pretty sad."
He shrugged. "Maybe."
"So what made you stop?" I asked, continuing me search through the pile of items on the bed.
"I met Roman and Seth," he said. "They were good guys, I bonded with them and actually found friends I gave a shit about. I didn't need the violence and the bullshit anymore, I had them."
I found a bandage and looked up at him, unable to keep the grin from my face. "That's rather sweet. They really mean a lot to you, don't they?"
"They're my brothers," he said as I pulled the bandage from the wrapper. "The best guys I know. And soon after I they got me out of that shit hole, we got a call from Hunter and ended up here."
"I'm glad you can have people in your life that can have such a calming influence over you and do such good for you," I said. "You can tell how close you guys are."
"I'd do anything for them," he said. "And even though the crazier side of me comes out every now and then, I try to keep calm for their sake. They hate it when my crazy side comes out, they hate trying to calm me down."
I found some medical tape and slowly applied the bandage to his face. "I was a little startled when I saw that crazy side of you," I admitted. "I wasn't exactly expecting it."
"I usually only get like that when I'm pissed or protective," he explained. "It just sorta… happens. Sometimes I can't control it… Sometimes I don't want to control it."
"Like tonight," I said.
"Yeah," he said, looking into my eyes. "Just like tonight." He quickly looked away. "Shit, I've never opened up like this before."
"Opening up is a good thing," I explained. "It's not good to keep things in side and locked up. Besides, I want to get to know you guys better anyway."
"Your brother would go insane if he knew about my past," he said.
"He doesn't know?" I asked.
"We sort of skirted around the truth," he said. "We told him only what he needed to know."
"Well you've kept my problems from him in the past, I'm more than happy to return the favour now," I smiled.
He smiled up at me a lopsided smile filled with boyish charm and warmth. "Thanks, Holly."
His eyes were no longer cold, harsh and blank like they had been previously. They had softened and come to life since he'd decided to open up to me, and I was grateful for this. Being alone in his company meant I wanted the nicer Dean, not the lunatic. So the quicker I could get him back to normal, the better.
His story was an interesting one. He had seemed so lonely and isolated before, turning to the violence in order to have feeling, meaning and purpose. Thank god he had found Seth and Roman when he had. They were good for him, and I was glad he'd managed to find such positive people to fill his life with.
Yet as he constantly mentioned his darker and crazier side to me, one question sprung to mind.
"Can I ask you something?" I said.
"Sure," he replied as I finished securing the bandage to his face.
"You talk about lack of control," I began. "Yet when you fought Sheamus in the ring tonight, you completely stopped everything with the mention of your name and one touch from my hand. Why was that…?"
He looked into his lap and I moved off of my knees, moving to sit beside him.
"It's weird," he said. "And I don't know if I can properly explain it. You just… calm me, you ease me, and I fucking hate seeing you get hurt. That's what got me so mad in the first place. I guess I just stopped in order to protect you and not keep that frightened look on your face… especially when I know I'm the one who put it there."
I listened to him closely, taking in every word he said, my stomach tingling at his words.
"I guess…" he continued. "I guess after everything I've been through with you in the weeks since we met, I've realised you're the first person who's given a shit about me since I met Seth and Roman. And that means a lot to me."
Damn, I hadn't realised my kindness had meant so much to him or that he'd taken so much of it on board. I always tried to welcome new talent, and I supposed I welcomed these guys more due to Randy's clear hatred of them. I believed in giving them a chance and giving a shit about them. I just hadn't known how much this had affected Dean because of his lonely past.
It made me smile, and I was more than happy to have helped him. And it helped to know that, if the time came, I could stop the lunatic if needs be. I'm sure he would be handy in some instances like with the muggers tonight. But he wasn't always welcome, especially in a WWE ring. So it was comforting to know I had some form of power over him and could lock the lunatic up if it came to it.
"Really?" I asked, placing a piece if hair behind my ear. "That's kind of cool. I'm glad you can trust me like that enough to stop the lunatic and calm down."
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Just don't tell anyone that, okay? I have a reputation to keep, you know." He offered me a wink.
I laughed. "Your secret is safe with me."
"Good," he smiled. "And thanks for sorting this out too." He pointed at the bandage on his face.
"Anytime," I said as he got to his feet.
"I should get going," he said. "I'm spent, I need some sleep."
I watched him, biting my lip anxiously. "You're leaving?"
"Yeah, why?"
I looked at the door then back to Dean. "What if those men come back?"
"The muggers? They won't," he said. "I think they understood my warning."
"H-How do you know they didn't call for back-up?" I asked. "How do you know they didn't follow us?"
I was genuinely nervous, not nice thoughts running through my head. It had been five on one and Dean had won, sure. But that would have made any normal person pissed. He'd simply let them go, who was to say they wouldn't return twice as strong? Who was to say they hadn't followed us to the hotel?
Who was to say they wouldn't want a little payback for the embarrassment Dean had placed upon them?
"Holly, relax," he said. "They're gone."
I bit my lip, looking at him uncertainly. "You sure?"
He sighed, his hands on his hips. "What would reassure you?"
"I don't know," I said. "I just heard the crap they said. I don't want them to go through with their threats."
He looked over my shoulder before looking back at me. "There's a sofa there. I'll crash on it tonight if it makes you feel safer."
I looked at him skeptically, not sure if he needed to go to such an extreme. Yes, I had been freaked out by the events of tonight, but was having Dean over a tad over dramatic? I wasn't sure if I needed him here to protect me or if just his words would reassure me.
However I hardly had time to answer him or think about which option was better, because he was already kicking his shoes off, taking off his leather jacket and searching through the wardrobe for spare pillows and a duvet.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
He dropped the pillow and duvet on the sofa and looked at me. "Look, do you want me to stay or not? Only I'm exhausted so I'd kind of like to know where I'll be sleeping tonight."
He seemed in no place to argue, and having him here would calm me and ease me after everything I'd been through. "Fine. You can stay on the sofa."
"Good," he said, setting up a make-shift bed. "I need some serious shut eye."
"I'll just go change for bed then," I said, grabbing my pajamas and heading for the bathroom.
"Sure, take your time," he called after me. I entered the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
Well, this is a turn of events!
When I'd gone to the bar with the girls tonight, I did not expect my evening to end with a cut up Dean Ambrose asleep on my sofa! I approached the sink and began brushing my teeth, looking at myself, wondering if all this was genuinely happening.
So much had happened in such a short space of time that I knew sleep would come easily to me. I was mentally exhausted, everything that had happened and everything that I had been told totally tiring me out.
So I finished up with my teeth and quickly changed ready for bed, smoothly and quietly exiting the bathroom. I looked over to see Dean already out cold on the sofa, neatly tucked up as he slept. I couldn't help but smile. Ambrose had seriously bailed me out tonight. He deserved the rest.
So I quickly turned off the light and slid into my comfy double bed, staring up at the ceiling.
I heard Dean roll around a little but thought nothing of it as the night's events flashed sporadically through my mind. The stuff with Sheamus in the ring, drinks with the girls, the mugging, the fighting, the recovery period, the talking…
Fuck, tonight had been nuts.
I'd really been through the wars, one thing after another, every event as bad as the last.
Dean tossed around on the sofa again.
To think I'd almost been mugged, I'd almost been raped, I'd almost had the living daylights beat out of me. I'd had a lot of luck fall into my lap tonight. Lord knows where I'd be if Randy hadn't have shielded me from Sheamus, if the girls hadn't helped me talk through it all, if Dean hadn't stopped the muggers. It made me grateful for the people around me, for the people who cared for me.
"Fuck this shit!" yelled Dean suddenly, breaking me from my thoughts. I could see his silhouette in the darkness, his body sitting upright.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Move over, I'm getting in that bed," he said, his body standing up.
Uh… I beg your pardon?
"What?" I asked in surprise, my voice coming out as more of a squeak.
"Sleeping on that sofa is like sleeping on a pile of bricks. My back with be shot if I have to spend the whole night on it." He began to walk over to me.
"What bed? My bed?" I asked, watching him as he walked around to the empty side of the bed.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna touch you up or anything, kid," he said as he pulled the quilt cover back and slid inside, rolling so his back faced me. "I'd just like to get a decent night's sleep without the need for a chiropractor tomorrow."
"O-Okay," I said, my face flushed. I was grateful it was too dark for him to see. I was red from head to toe. "That's fine, I guess."
I felt the bed shake as he chuckled. "Relax," he said. "You don't need to sound so upset. Who knows, you might like having a lunatic lying beside you like this. I've never had a complaint from a woman yet."
"Dean!" I squealed, my face hot and embarrassed.
He laughed again. "Goodnight, Holly."
And with that I rolled away from him, trying to get some distance, wondering if I'd calm down enough to get any sleep tonight.
Again, a huge thanks to KairiAnneYukari21, Raquel the writer, Tantoune, haha95, Hollarious969, crazy-wild-and-free, beautifultragedyxxx, dutchangel1979, wolviegurl and my guest reviewer for their reviews of the last chapter.