Hello, lovely readers!
Things got a little hot and little sexual last chapter. These two can't keep their hands off each other! But we saw the return on Randy right at the end. Major cliff-hanger, sorry, guys. But now we get our answers…
Debwood-1999 – It's two sides of the coin. It's great to see Holly and Dean taking their relationship forward, but now she has to deal with whatever Randy has to say. She wants her answers
Raquel the writer – Thank you!
Guest – Sorry for the cliff-hanger. And that's so sweet of you to say
Seth Rollins babe – Well you're about to find out what happens. It won't be straight forward.
Guest – I agree. Dean is just so sweet and lovely and always knows the best things to say. As for the confrontation, its about to happen.
Tantoune – Thank you! I always have such little faith in my smut scenes so to hear you praise it means a lot.
Beautifultragedyxxx – Ooh, I'm glad you liked it. and I always like to give the unexpected.
Dutchangel1979 – Haha! Damn is a good word to use. I wanted it to be saucy and steamy so I'm happy you enjoyed it
DeeMarie426 – Haha! I agree. It was good to see Holly get some Ambrose lovin'. She deserves it
Ambrose-kohli-girl - Thank you! It was certainly a steamy scene. And yes! Randy is back!
This chapter is named after 'Fair-weather Friends' by Queens Of The Stone Age
Holly Helmsley's Point Of View
I stood there in the entrance of the bar, still as a statue, unsure of whether to move or not. My heart sank to my stomach as I watched Randy. He'd yet to see me but I'd seen him as clear as day. His face seemed a little pale, his body hunched over as he sat on his bar stool, a glass of whiskey seated on the bar, his hand tightly around it.
I took a tentative step forward but then quickly stepped back again, my body torn over what to do.
I was so relieved I'd found him and that he hadn't gone too far. I could clearly see he wasn't hurt either. He seemed a little worse for wear but he hadn't done anything too stupid and that was the main thing. I couldn't help it, but after 12 years of friendship, I just wanted to run to him and hug him and see if he was alright.
But whilst I was relieved I was so so angry, more angry than I'd ever been in my life. His reaction to the truth had been totally unacceptable and too below the belt for my liking. Dean had done nothing wrong yet he'd been the one to feel the full brunt of Randy's frustration and annoyance.
He had been totally out of order, not only for hurting my innocent friend but also for hurting the man I was falling for. He had been so wrong and what he'd done was unforgivable. And I was still mad beyond belief.
I was torn over what to do, but I knew this could not go on the way it had. I needed to talk to him, I needed to ask him why. The longer we brushed this under the carpet, the worse it would get. Besides, I finally had him here. If I left and let him go, I wasn't sure when the next time I would see him would be. This could be my only chance. So for Dean's sake and for my own piece of mind, I found the courage to walk towards him, taking a seat two bar stools down.
He didn't look up as I sat down, clearly lost in his own little world, his sole focus on the glass of alcohol in front of him. I was unsure of how many he'd had, but I knew it couldn't be many. It was only lunch time and Murphy's could not have been open that long.
The bartender walked over to me.
"What can I get you?" he asked me.
"I'll just take a small glass of white wine please," I answered.
Randy's body stiffened immediately at the sound of my voice, like a deer caught in the headlights.
The bartender went to prepare my drink, my vision noticing Randy's head slowly turning to look at me from the corner of my eye. Without hesitation I turned to look at him, giving him my full attention. I could see his face properly now, light purple bags under his eyes as if he hadn't slept all night. The stubble around his face seemed a little longer and I could see the last 24 hours had taken its toll on him.
He quickly looked away, downing his whiskey in one gulp before setting his glass down again. My attention was torn from him as the bartender returned with my drink. He put the glass down in front of me as I messed around in my bag for money to pay.
"Here," came Randy's voice from beside me. "I'll get it."
"You sure?" the bartender asked.
"I'm sure," Randy replied as he handed over the cash. "Get me another whiskey out of it too."
"Coming right up," said the bartender as he took the money and went to make Randy's drink.
"Thank you," I mumbled, taking a sip of my wine.
"Anytime," he shrugged, his body and head still not facing me. "You here by yourself?"
"Yes," I replied.
"That's not safe with Sheamus still out and about."
"I'm alright," I said, the Irishman the last thing on my mind. "I'm safe enough."
I watched him closely for a few moments after the bartender returned with his whiskey, a heavy and tense silence hanging between us that lasted for ages. We could have been there for a good ten minutes for all I guessed. I knew this would be as awkward for him as it would be for me, but even though he was the one in the wrong I knew I'd eventually have to be the first to speak.
Whether he was ashamed, embarrassed or just downright stubborn, I knew for a fact Randy wasn't starting this conversation. So I took the first step.
"I never had you down as a lunchtime drinker," I finally said to him.
A light smirk appeared on his lips. "I find it's good to try new things from time to time. It's good to be different."
"I don't know…" I said. "I liked you as you were."
"No you didn't," he said, his hands playing with his glass. "The last thing you liked was me as I was."
My shoulders dropped but I was determined to sort this and not feel guilty or sorry for myself. So I grabbed my glass of wine and took the bold step of moving seats until I sat on the stool right beside him.
"You know that's not true," I said. "I don't like the Randy I've seen these past 24 hours. But the Randy I've known for 12 years, well he was the best."
"But clearly I wasn't good enough," he sighed. "You made that quite clear last night."
"You made your feelings quite clear too," I replied, my voice a little harsh. "You made them clear to the whole fucking world."
He let out a frustrated sigh and knocked back his glass of whiskey. "I'm not doing this," he said as he stood up, ready to leave.
No way in hell are you fucking leaving now!
I quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him from walking away. I pulled at him, causing him to sit back down again. It didn't take a genius to know Randy was far stronger than me, so for me to get him to sit down so easily meant I knew he wasn't putting up much of a fight with me.
"Yes you are," I said. "Because neither of us are leaving this bar until we've spoken about this."
He glared at me, his nostrils flaring in annoyance, but he quickly relaxed and settled into his seat. He didn't seem happy about it, but he knew me well enough to know I wasn't backing down. This was getting fucking sorted whether he liked it or not. I'd follow him round for the rest of life if I had to! Thankfully he seemed to agree to talk so it made life a lot easier.
"Fine," he said. "Fucking talk then."
"I'm only here with questions," I said. "You're the one who needs to do the talking."
"I have nothing to say," he argued.
"You had plenty to say last night," I said. "So I'm sure there are enough words left over to talk now."
"I'm not in the mood for this, Holly," he said, his head resting on his hand.
"Nor am I," I said. "But it's so damn hard to track you down that I have no fucking idea when I'm going to get to talk to you again. So we either talk now, or we leave it and this situation gets a hell of a lot worse."
He looked at me or a few moments before rubbing his hands over his face, lifting his glass to indicate to the bartender that he wanted another drink. "Fine. Ask away."
"Well I think you can guess what my first question is," I said.
"Why did I do it?" Randy asked.
"Yes," I said. "There was no need to attack Dean like that."
"There was every need," he said with a shrug, the bartender returning with his drink.
I shook my head in annoyance. "If you were pissed off by our conversation in your locker room, then it's me you should have hurt, it's me you should have picked on. Not him. Dean did nothing wrong."
"Well I wasn't exactly gonna RKO you in the middle of the ring, was I?" he said. "You know I'd never lay a finger on you."
"So you just thought you could lay a finger on Dean instead?" I asked incredulously.
"It was the next best thing," he said, taking only a small sip of whiskey this time.
"How?!" I exclaimed. "How is attacking an innocent man on world wide fucking television the next best thing?"
"Well it made me feel a hell of a lot better about myself," he mumbled.
"Yes, because attacking someone then drinking whiskey in a bar until you're drunk is obviously something to feel good about."
"I was frustrated," he continued. "I was angry and pissed off and frustrated. So I lashed out. There was no way in hell I was going to hurt you, so I went straight to the thing that caused all this, I went straight to the catalyst and let him know I wasn't happy about it all."
"Dean had nothing to do with my decision, Randy," I argued.
"Yes he did," Randy said. "You just don't realise it. You're so blinded by Ambrose that you don't realise how much he actually had to do with it all."
"And you think RKOing him was the best means of retribution?" I asked.
"Like I said, it made me feel better about myself."
I sipped on my wine, my hands trembling with anger as I held the glass to my lips. This was pathetic, childish, and so so wrong. His reasons weren't justified, his actions could not be explained, and I definitely could not believe how he was talking right now.
"It made you feel good but what about the rest of us? Me? Hunter? Steph? Your fucking career? It didn't feel good from where we were standing."
"It was selfish but it was necessary," he suggested.
"How? Why?" I asked, my mind in total confusion and bewilderment.
"I hate him, Holly," he said to me in earnest, finally looking up at me. "I fucking hate him."
"But why?" I asked. "You've been like this since you met him, not just yesterday."
"Because he has what I can't have."
"Do you mean me? Randy, this hatred for him has gone on since the beginning," I said in confusion. "Whatever is happening between Dean and I, it's literally been in the last few days."
"I feel like it has been going on since the beginning," he admitted. "You may not have realised it but I've been losing you since the day you met him. I waited for you and liked you for four long years and you didn't look at me once. Yet he just turns up and gets your attention within moments."
"So you attacked him because of jealousy," I stated.
"If that's how you want to put it, then yeah, it was out of jealousy. Dean took what I wanted and I took revenge. I wanted him to hurt the way I have. I've done it once and I wouldn't hesitate to do it again."
He finished his whiskey, putting the glass down, not wanting anymore.
All I could do was stare at him, honestly not knowing who he was anymore. This wasn't the kind and sweet Randy I once knew. This wasn't the guy who used to look after me and make me smile and act like my second brother. He could be mean in the ring but in everyday life he was a teddy bear. This wasn't the man who would never hurt me or harm me or do anything to make me sad. This was a different man altogether. The Randy I knew would not hurt someone innocent, he wouldn't lash out in anger to someone who didn't deserve it, he would never do something so vile because of something as pathetic as jealousy.
And now that he'd done what he'd done and said what he'd said, a part of me knew I'd never get the old Randy back again.
A part of me knew too much had gone on, things had gone too far, and too many feelings had got in the way. Everything had changed, people had changed, and I genuinely wasn't sure how we could come back from this.
I stared at him and I couldn't help the tears that silently slid down my cheeks. I couldn't stop them and I supposed I didn't want them to stop. They were proof, they were physical evidence that all of this was really happening and it was killing me.
Why did it have to be so complicated? Why did it have to be so hard? This could have all been so ridiculously simple. I could have Dean as my boyfriend and Randy as my best friend. We'd all get on, have fun and live happily ever after.
But feelings had gotten in the way, everything was ruined, and I knew none of that would ever happen.
His shoulders dropped when he saw the tears on my face, a guilty expression crossing his face.
"Oh, Holly," he said sadly, standing up, stepping in front of me and embracing me in his arms. My head rested on his chest, my tears soaking his shirt as he held me close and rubbed my back. I was repulsed by him, I was disgusted by his behaviour, but I found I couldn't push him away. I wanted to be here in his arms, letting him comfort me, and it was for one very important reason…
This would be the last time it could ever happen.
After everything I'd heard, we would never be what we were and so he would never hug me again. We'd probably casually greet each other at work now, but that was it. Our close and long friendship would be over because I could not be this close with someone who was so destructive, so harmful and so hurtful.
I hated it because I'd always want Randy in my life, and if I could then I would. But to hurt Dean over jealousy, to attack an innocent man because I had pushed back his advances… That shit hurt and he had no remorse over it. I couldn't deal with that and I could not forgive it.
So I allowed him to hug and hold me because I'd never let him do it again.
He squeezed me tightly, his hands rubbing my back in a soothing fashion, comforting me as well as he could. He didn't loosen his grip on me, holding me closely against him as I sobbed into his chest. I knew this wasn't exactly the time or the place for an emotional breakdown, but after what I'd heard, I couldn't help it.
"When did all this get so fucked up?" I sobbed. "Why did all this have to twist so badly?"
"I know," he said softly. "I know."
"Why did it have to go this far?" I asked in bewilderment. "Why did all this have to be so hard? It's fucking crazy."
"I hate seeing you like this, I really do," he said as he rested his chin on top of my head. "And I apologise for hurting you and upsetting you. But I just can't apologise for what I did."
I squeezed my eyes tightly closed, a loud sob leaving my mouth. "I hate it when you say stuff like that. It's like you're twisting the knife in deeper and hurting me more."
"I don't mean to, Holly," he said. "I really don't. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you in any way."
"Then why is this hurting so much…?" My voice trailed off as I didn't have an answer. I knew this was the end of everything I'd once known, and nothing was ever going to ease the pain that brought.
I finally pulled back, my cheeks flushed and damp, my eyes red and puffy. Randy brushed the wet strands of hair from my face, wiping away any fallen tears with his thumb. He looked over my face carefully.
"I really do hate seeing you like this…" he said sadly.
"I just want everyone to get along," I whispered. "I just want everything to be okay."
"I know you do," he said.
"Why can't I have Dean and my best friend?" I asked, though I wasn't exactly asking Randy in particular. I was just speaking my thoughts aloud. "Why can't you just get along…?" A few more silent tears tumbled down my cheeks.
"Please don't cry," he begged. "I can't stand seeing you so hurt."
"But I do hurt, Randy," I said. "And I just want it to go away."
"I can make it go away," he said confidently.
"How?" I asked.
He looked down at my lips before looking back at my eyes, hesitating for a moment. Then the next thing I knew he leant down to kiss me.
What the actual fuck?!
"NO!" I exclaimed, pulling back in astonishment, disgust and shock. "Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell are you doing?!"
He quickly let me go before banging his fist on the bar in frustration, soon realising whatever he was trying to do had backfired. "GODDAMN IT!" he yelled, several of the customers looking at him.
All the sadness I'd previously felt had gone, quickly replaced with anger and also disappointment. He knew the situation, he knew where my feelings lay, he knew this was never going to happen. And yet after everything he was still trying anyway. I shook my head, the whole situation unbelievable.
"I think you need to leave," I said to him, not caring anymore. He'd gone a step too far now. Whether I ever saw him again or not, I honestly didn't care right now. After what he'd tried to do, I was done with him. He could leave and never return, I didn't give a shit.
His jaw was tense, his nostrils flared, his chest rising and falling quickly as he breathed heavily. His hands balled up into fists at his sides and I knew he wasn't going to leave. He refused to even look at me and he refused to move.
"Fine," I said, standing up from my stool and hoisting my bag onto my shoulder. "If you won't leave then I'll go instead. It was good seeing you."
He suddenly looked at me as I turned to leave, fear etched onto his features.
"Holly, don't-"
"Goodbye, Randy," I said with my head held high, walking out of the bar and straight home, not looking back once.
Again, a huge thanks to Debwood-1999, Raquel the writer, Seth Rollins babe, Tantoune, beautifultragedyxxx, dutchangel1979, DeeMarie426, Ambrose-kohli-girl and my 2 guest reviewers for their words about the last chapter