The suspicious looks chased Renee the whole day. And the next one, too. They didn't come talk to her and they didn't ask; it wasn't necessary. They got their information. If they wanted to know more, she wasn't the person to approach. But wherever she went, whatever she was doing, when she found herself in the room with Roman or Seth, she could feel their eyes on her back. They knew. There was no other explanation. It bothered her that they kept staring at her even when she turned away; it made her wonder what exactly Dean told them. Everything or did he kept some details secret? Or did he say even what didn't happen. It wouldn't surprise her if Dean exaggerated what actually happened.
It was strange though, unfair. Dean had always asked her not talk to them, or anybody else, about their relationship. He said it was their life, so it should be private. Yet, and this made Renee laugh, he evidently kept gossiping. Sometimes girls are better at keeping secrets, especially when it suits them. But oh those double measures. Did Dean actually believe that although he sort of forbid Renee to tell people about them, it was okay for him to do so? Either way, it seemed apparent that Renee had become a target for the Shield, and she did not like it.
On the other hand, she kind of understood. She didn't want to take a revenge on her boyfriend because she knew he didn't do it to hurt her or to embarrass her. No, he simply did it to make himself look better in the eyes of his friends. That's why he was willing to reveal their secret adventures to them. Renee thought that it was probably a pride thing. She would never do it, but she accepted Dean's point view, which differed from hers. When she looked at it the way she believed Dean did, she could see what was so attractive about it and why Dean wanted to tell his mates. It was fun, it was new, it was unexpected of her to agree on doing it, so one could understand why Dean wanted to brag about it. He made it his achievement.
Yet Renee would prefer if it stayed between her and Dean only. But the damage had been done, and there was no point in arguing over it or even blaming him for not keeping his mouth shut.
After the show she waited for him. She was long done so she had the possibility to leave earlier but she chose not to. Instead, she decided to wait for him to finish. He didn't know about her waiting for him, though; they hadn't made any plans together. He was quite surprised to see her standing by the wall, seemingly ready to leave. But he found it convenient that he saw her. "Have you seen Seth and Roman?" Dean called at her through the hallway when he noticed her. He seemed to have been looking for those two, unsuccessfully. Renee knew why he wasn't able to find them.
"They already left," she explained.
"Jerks. We were gonna go grab a beer. Why would they leave?" He spoke more quietly now since he was standing almost in front of her and she could easily hear him. "They were supposed to wait for me." Dean was confused and not very happy about them gone.
"I told them to go without you."
"Oh. Oh! Damn! You know," he guessed the reason behind her decision to not let him go to the bar.
"I do know," she replied, referring to finding out about Dean telling Seth and Roman about their little adventure under the ring.
"I should have seen it coming. I guess I totally ignored the possibility, the probability," he corrected himself, "of you getting mad about it. So this is my punishment? You forbidding me from hanging out with the guys?"
Renee let him speak. After he was done, she disagreed, "I'm not mad. I'm not too happy, but I'm certainly not mad. Look, I know I'm dating Dean Ambrose, so you can be sure, I've worked on my patience and raised the bar for getting angry." As a result of noticing Dean's I-don't-know-what-to-think-about-this reaction, she said, "That's a good thing."
"So why are you scrapping my plans?"
Renee sighed. "I'm not scrapping your plans. You can go to the pub any other time."
"Not tonight."
"Not tonight," Renee made it clear. "I know that we didn't set on spending the evening together, but hey, why not? Moreover, you're always the one making plans."
"But I'm good at it."
Renee had to admit she liked Dean's date ideas, in the end, but for once she wanted to be the one coming up with something. "Tonight I planned something for us to do."
"As far as I'm concerned, you don't need to plan anything. I don't need any romance. Just take your clothes off and I'll be happy."
Renee laughed. There may have been something about it, however, she decided to stick to her original plan.
"So what are we going to do today?" Dean asked when he saw there was no chance Renee would change her mind and go with his idea instead.
"You'll see."
He saw what she was doing. She wanted it to be a secret. He, too, never told her his plan but preferred her to see and experience it instead. Now the situation was reversed. She was the one who knew and he had no idea how they would spend the rest of the day. He was curious, a little excited, but most of all he believed that she had planned something interesting for their date.
They quickly got out of an arena. A cab took them away from there but also away from the hotel. Dean wondered where they were going but didn't ask. He would find out eventually. In the cab they didn't act as lovers; the cabdriver probably had no idea who they were but they felt kind of strange acting amorously in public. They still didn't show affection in front of their colleagues, although most of them knew they were together. The only two people in whose presence they felt comfortable enough to act naturally were Roman and Seth. These two knew almost everything, either from Renee or from Dean. Mostly from Dean.
The cab stopped in front of some house. It had to be it, their final destination; Renee had given the driver the address where to go. Dean looked to the right. No, there was no restaurant or park or any place which he would consider usual for a date. It seemed to be a residential area.
"Are you sure this is the place?" asked Dean.
Renee nodded and got out of the car. Dean obediently followed. Then Renee started walking toward one of the houses; there was nothing special about it, it looked just like the other ones. All the houses in this area looked the same; that was kind of strange, but not as much as Renee who still kept her plan a secret.
"Aren't you gonna tell me what are we doing here?" Dean was confused. He stopped liking not knowing what was going to happen. Whatever it was, he wasn't ready for it. He needed some explanation. "Renee!" he called after her. She was almost at the door. If this was supposed to be funny, it wasn't.
There was no way she was getting him inside the house if she didn't say why. He still stood on the side of the road. She had to return to get him.
"Okay," she started, sounding more serious than usually, "I didn't want to tell you because I worried that you might not agree on coming here."
"What? What is this about? Who lives there?"
"Why don't you go see yourself?" she proposed.
He wondered if it would be really such a bad thing to knock on that door. He had no idea who lived inside or why Renee brought him here, but it seemed to him that Renee really cared about it and wanted him to go there. Did she know these people? And why was it risky to simply tell him?
"This is not a date, is it?" Dean suddenly realized.
Renee smiled and softly kissed Dean on the cheek. "Sure it is. You're just not a date with me tonight."
"I don't understand."
"Just come with me and you will." She offered him her hand. Dean hesitated but they came too far to not go along with it. And he couldn't disappoint Renee to whom this mattered a lot. He let her lead him until they reached the door. Renee rang the bell and patiently waited. She held Dean's hand firmly, and Dean wasn't sure if it was to support him or to make sure he wouldn't slip away. But when the door opened, she let go and acted as if they were only two random people who happened to stand beside each other.
A middle-aged woman asked them to go inside. She certainly expected them to come. But she didn't seem to know either Renee or Dean. Renee introduced herself and Dean, too.
"The dinner will be ready in about ten minutes," said the woman, who was wearing a Christmas apron. Rudolph was a little out of season but it was something that made Dean smile. Renee didn't notice. The woman, who introduced herself as Claire, then went back to the kitchen and called upon somebody to welcome the guests and lead them into the dining hall. It was a perhaps fifteen-year old boy. Dean guessed that he was not too excited about them coming into their home. He seemed to be one of those boys who would prefer playing video games instead of having a family dinner. But he was nice to Dean and Renee and did his best to hide his lack of enthusiasm. Dean didn't catch boy's name and didn't dare to ask again. He was busy getting familiar with the surroundings.
The furniture was old and wooden. The whole house was mostly dark due to brown furniture and small windows. One of the wall lights was dim and another one didn't work at all. They came into the dining hall and were told to sit down. The plates were ready and they could already smell the food from the kitchen, which was separated from the dining hall only by an arch.
When the boy was not looking, Dean leaned toward Renee and whispered, "You still won't tell me what's going on?"
"You'll see," she said again.
Dean felt strange; not belonging there. He didn't know these people and he had no idea what he was doing there. The only thing he knew was that dinner would be served in less than five minutes. He grabbed the glass in front of him and took a sip of the red wine. Then he noticed there were five glasses in total. Five sets of plates and cutlery. Dean and Renee were two; so far he had met two people, the woman and the young boy. There would be one more person joining them.
"Josh!" the woman shouted at the boy, that had to be his name, as she walked in holding a bowl of some food which she then placed in the middle of the table. She didn't like that he was on his phone. and took it away from him.
"I'm sorry," she apologized for him.
"That's okay," Renee replied.
The boy looked hatefully at Dean who hadn't spoken yet. He was too confused to say anything. Also, he had nothing to say.
"Josh," the woman called his name again a minute later, this time more calmly, "Why don't you go get Rebecca?" That had to be the last person at their table. Dean looked at the glasses one more time. There was wine poured in three of them. In the other two there was different liquid, probably juice. No alcohol for them. So Rebecca had to be a kid as well.
Finally, the food was ready. Claire set down at the head of the table. Renee and Dean were sitting next to each other. The children would sit opposite them.
They hadn't come yet. The boy went upstairs to get the girl, probably his sister, but after two minutes they were nowhere to be seen.
"I'm sorry," the woman apologized again and said she would go get them.
Renee and Dean were left alone. Dean hoped Renee would at last tell him what was going on. She didn't. There was no time. Moreover, she believed she wasn't the one with right to talk about it.
Dean's assumption was correct; Rebecca was a child. She could be no older than seven, probably younger than that. She did recognize him. Yet there was no smile on her face. She sat down to eat. The whole place fell silent.
"Hi, Rebecca," Renee was the first one to speak, "I'm Renee. It's nice to meet you. Oh," she pretended to forget about something. "And this is Dean. But you know Dean, don't you?" Renee was very sweet and kind, but this girl didn't seem to appreciate it. She didn't say "Of course I know him," or "Nice to meet you, Renee." No, this girl quietly took a piece of potato on her fork and ate it. She kept absently staring at her plate. If she was excited about meeting the WWE Superstar, she hid it well.
They all started eating. Dean observed the little girl and wondered what was wrong with her. There had to be something; she didn't seem to be quite all right.
"Rebecca is a big fan of yours, Mr. Ambrose," the mother said. It felt strange for Dean to be called that, but that was not important.
"Really?" he asked instead and waited for Rebecca's reaction. There was none.
"Rebecca," Renee called her directly, but she didn't even look at her. Dean found it odd, and also that the mother didn't do anything about it. Renee continued anyway, "I heard you want to be a wrestler, is that true?"
After another moment of silence, her mother replied, "It has been her dream for almost two years."
"It's not anymore," her brother unexpectedly joined the conversation. "She no longer even watches wrestling."
"Well," Claire said, "she used to."
"What happened?" Dean asked and everybody, covertly even the girl, looked at him. He wasn't supposed to ask that question. Now even Renee realized she should have told him and not keeping everything a secret until the very end.
Rebecca stood up and without excusing herself left. Now there was no reason not to tell him.
"Her father died a month ago," her mom explained. "Ever since then, Rebecca has been apathetic. She doesn't speak or interact with anyone. She spends most of time in her room, alone. She used to love WWE and watched it often. Too often." She smiled at that memory. "She shared that interest with her father."
"What happened to him?" Dean dared to ask.
"He was a soldier. He was shot in Afghanistan."
"I'm sorry about that," Dean said to the woman who was getting emotional thinking about her dead husband.
"Anyway, when he came home, he used to take her to a live event. They were going to go together to the one that was today."
"But without him she didn't want to go," Renee finished the explanation.
Dean felt like he should do something; they all seemed to be expecting from him to try to cheer her up because they believed he was the one that was most likely to succeed. But what was there to do? She didn't seem to be very psyched to see him, although, as her mother claimed, she admired him and looked up to him. That seemed out of place to Dean; if she was older maybe it would make sense. But as a little girl she certainly didn't look at him the way teenage girls did. How long has she been watching him wrestle? How much did she know? Dean wondered what the odds of her knowing him as Jon Moxley were. He hoped she had no idea of the person he used to be. But if she liked the Dean Ambrose of these days, was it just him or was she a fan of The Shield, too?
"Would it be okay if I went to her room?" Dean asked after thinking whether that was what he wanted to do.
"That would nice of you," said the mother. "It's the second room to the left."
Renee watched him as he stood up, and it was clear that she appreciated what he was about to do. She smiled at him to show her support of his decision.
He walked up the stairs and knocked on her room. He let himself in. Rebecca was sitting on the floor playing with her dolls. The room was dark; darker than the rest of the house. The curtains were closed and only a small light was on. Dean turned the main light on the ceiling on to stop feeling as if he was in a cave. He didn't feel comfortable there and the silence didn't help either. Rebecca didn't react to his presence; she kept focusing on her toys. Dean took a look around. The walls were covered with posters. One wall was full of WWE Superstars and Divas. He was on more than one picture. And there were also other Shield guys. Majority of the current roster appeared on collective posters. Dean got a spontaneous idea. He picked a black marker lying on the table and signed the poster of him. Afterwards he questioned if it was a good idea; some people don't like having anything written on their pictures, no matter if the person signing it is the same as the on the picture. He looked at the girl to find out if he hadn't ruined it. She didn't seem to care.
Then he looked at the other wall. That one was full of pictures of soldiers. Maybe some of them portrayed her father. Close shots at faces were not rare and Dean could see that a certain face appeared there more than once. That had to be her dad. Dean didn't want to look at it. He kneeled next to the girl; finally she acknowledged his presence. But that didn't make it easier for him. And almost immediately she went back to playing. She firmly held one doll; it wasn't a Barbie doll, it wasn't a princess or any other girl figure. It was a soldier. The doll was wearing a uniform and its hand was placed as if saluting. This girl had no interest in wrestling anymore. Dean was no longer her role model; her father was. Dean left without a word; he doubted there was something he could do.
By the look on Dean's face they could tell he hadn't succeeded in bringing her back. The young boy didn't seem surprised. "What did you expect to happen?"
"Josh!"
But Dean was asking the same question. According to him, that girl needed a professional help, a psychologist or psychiatrist, not a wrestler.
"I'll make some coffee. Do you take milk or sugar?"
"Just black, please," Renee replied for both of them.
"Can I leave now?" asked the son.
"No." Then the mother left to the kitchen.
Josh was enraged; he didn't like the guests and saw no point in them staying. "You think that just because you're famous you can make miracles?"
Dean wanted to shout at him, he didn't like his tone, but secretly he agreed with him. He may have been good in the ring, he may have been good at getting adolescent girls like him; he had no superpowers though. And he didn't know how to deal with young kids, especially when they had no interest in him. Therefore, he said nothing when Josh stood up and left, without his mother's permission.
"Renee, what are we doing here?" There was another question hidden behind this one; why are we still here?
She didn't answer him. Instead she stood up and left too. Dean didn't need to be a genius to know where she went.
The coffee was ready but there was nobody at the table other than Dean. And he would sacrifice the coffee for being able to leave to a more pleasant place. This depressive temple was too much even for him. He understood that Renee cared about it and wanted to make that little girl happy again but Dean knew it wasn't in their power.
Now Dean could sense the proximity of an awkward conversation with Claire. He wished he could avoid it. He prayed Renee would come back. She had been gone for more than five minutes now. Did she have a goal of not returning until she made Rebecca talk? Would she not be happy until the girl was happy? In that case, it would take really long for Renee to return.
Dean imagined how Seth and Roman were spending their evening. He wished he were able to join them. Oh, such a wishful thinking, so distant from reality. In front of him was a hot coffee, not a cold beer. And there was an unknown woman he shared no interests with sitting beside him, not his buddies with whom he shared almost everything. But he was doing this for Renee, he reminded himself.
More minutes passed before she finally returned. "Could you come with me?" she turned to Dean. He didn't want to go back, but he stood up and left the room to get a chance to talk to his girlfriend in private.
"Did she say anything?"
"No."
"Then why don't you just give up?"
"Dean," she sighed as if that could suffice as an answer.
"I don't know how to talk to her. I don't know how to act around her."
They were alone. Nobody was watching them and nobody could hear them; despite this Renee spoke quietly. "I know she's happy that you are here."
"I'm not the one she's looking up to anymore."
"Maybe not, but your opinion still matters to her."
"My opinion? Opinion on what exactly?"
"On why she shouldn't give up on life. Why she shouldn't seclude herself from the world, from her family, and people who care about her."
"I can't change how she feels. I don't have that influence on her."
"I believe you do," Renee said, and she meant it.
"What happened there?"
"I talked to her." To avoid the question that would follow, she continued, "I told her about you, how amazing you are."
Dean shook his head.
"You are," she persistently repeated. "And I know that you can make this girl interested in wrestling again. You do have that power."
"I really don't think so," he disagreed. He sounded like he had already given up; and he felt that way too.
"Just be yourself, you'll be surprised what you can achieve."
"How can I be myself around six-year old girl?"
Renee smiled. "Don't look at her as at a little girl. You don't need to pretend you're something that you're not. Sure, maybe you could scale down your typical behavior; but I'm not asking for some children-friendly version of Dean Ambrose. So what if she's only six? You can still joke around her. You don't have to be serious."
"I don't know, Renee," he still wasn't convinced.
"I do. Maybe for once you could trust me." She firmly pressed his hand and held it as she asked him to walk upstairs with her. He couldn't say no to her. He couldn't let her down, even when he didn't believe in himself in this particular situation.
"Rebecca," Renee called before entering her room. After letting Rebecca know of their coming inside, she slowly opened the door. She still held Dean's hand and didn't let go even after they joined the girl on the carpet.
Dean noticed something different. Rebecca was once again playing with her dolls, but it was not the soldier that she held in her hand anymore; it was a well-known figure of himself. Where did she get it? Then he looked at Renee, who was smiling; she was probably the happiest out of the three.
"Did you . . .?" he wanted to ask her but wasn't sure if it was okay in the girl's presence.
Noticing Dean looking at the doll, Renee quickly realized what was Dean wondering. "I brought Rebecca a gift. Do you like it?" now she was directing the question to the girl.
She did, even though she didn't say it.
It seemed to Dean as a big step, although he didn't know to which direction, that she put aside the soldier doll and exchanged it for her own Dean Ambrose.
Dean watched it for a while, then said, "It looks nothing like me."
"Well, you know, the original is only one," Renee commented. "But the advantage of Dean the doll is that he's very obedient; he always does what you tell him to do," she joked.
"Walk!" Dean commanded. Of course the figure didn't move. "See, he's not much better than the original." But then Rebecca moved his legs so that he made a step forward. And then one more. Dean smiled. "Okay, you win; he's better than me." It seemed than Rebecca joined the game Dean and Renee were playing; and she was on Renee's side.
Dean wasn't surprised that she preferred Renee; she was nice and caring, sweet, and tried really hard to make Rebecca participate. She didn't know this girl but it was clear she liked her and cared about her. Dean still wondered what she had told her when she came into her room for the first time. It certainly made the girl less depressed and active.
But even Renee's kind behavior didn't help her win over that girl's heart. "Why don't you come down with us and have some ice cream?" Rebecca looked down again and all the enthusiasm was suddenly gone. Happiness from Renee's face disappeared as well.
Seeing that made Dean feel bad for Renee. But she didn't do anything wrong, so why such a change? He looked at the framed photograph Rebecca had on the table. He had seen it already, but he had to see it again. There were only two people in it; Rebecca and her dad. They both were wearing military uniforms, but the picture was clearly taken in a studio. No guns, no remainder of a war. But what caught Dean's attention was not the evident good relationship she had with her father but much colder relationship with her mom. Why otherwise wouldn't she be in the photo? There was another picture on the other side on the table, at the back. That one showed the rest of the family members. Claire and the boy, whose name Dean had forgotten again. Those two were separated. Could it be that Rebecca didn't consider them part of the family? Maybe, Dean thought, maybe Claire wasn't her real mother but a woman her father married, and therefore her step-mother. That would explain the hostility in Rebecca's attitude toward her. Or maybe Dean was wrong. He usually wasn't very good at these assumptions; moreover, he knew very little about this family. But if he was right, Rebecca had every right to feel the way she did. She lost the one person that was close to her and that she loved. Now she felt alienated in her own house because the people she shared it with were strangers to her. Her father, soldier, would no longer return at usual intervals to make her feel at home. Now there was no point in being a fan of wrestling because she knew that the person who supported her in this hobby was gone. She had nobody to go to wrestling events with. It was apparent to Dean that the two people downstairs had no knowledge of wrestling whatsoever; they didn't even recognize him. But the woman about whom Dean was more and more assured was not Rebecca's biological mother did care about Rebecca and was determined to do everything to see her smiling again, even invite her favorite superstar. Dean wondered if Renee knew about this. But he couldn't ask her in the little girl's presence.
"Rebecca," he spoke to her, "how would you like going to a wrestling live event with Renee and me?"
Rebecca looked up at him; Dean couldn't tell what was going on her mind. Then she looked at Renee, who certainly liked that idea. It was easy to see that the girl wanted to say yes but she stuck to her principle of not talking. She nodded though and showed both Dean and Renee her beautiful smile, which they hadn't had chance to see before.
Renee patted her on the top of her head and Rebecca let her. Then Renee whispered something into her ear; something that Rebecca had to like because afterwards she even hugged Renee.
"I won't get a hug?" Dean felt left out.
The girl was unsure. Finally she decided to give Dean a hug; but only to the small version of him.
"Oh, I could almost feel it," he joked. "But I would compare it to a stab in the back."
Renee intervened, "He looks scary, doesn't he?" Rebecca hesitantly nodded. "But he doesn't bite. And I'm pretty sure he's more afraid of you that you're of him."
"Thanks," Dean said sarcastically.
"Go ahead, hug him," she said to the girl. "He likes it, although he won't admit it."
That sufficed for Rebecca to find courage to approach the big guy who often looked scary and unpredictable on the screen. In reality he was different but he still spread a wave of respect around him. But Renee was there to show the real face of Dean Ambrose, guy who could be like a teddy bear sometimes, as right now.
"Here, sweety," Renee told Rebecca and handed her a card with her phone number, "you can call me anytime. Whenever there'll be a problem with your Dean, I can help; I know what works on him," she joked and looked at the life version of Dean Ambrose. She let him took her hand.
"Why do you make me look like a bad guy?" He wasn't really mad at Renee; he saw what she was doing and he knew it worked. She was good, and Dean was glad she was there with him. This could never happen without her.
It was late; Rebecca was usually asleep at this time. She yawned. It was time for them to go. But before leaving Renee gave Rebecca a kiss on her forehead. "Sweet dreams, my little angel." The girl waved at Dean. He waved back.
When they got out of the house, Renee turned to Dean. "It wasn't that bad, was it?"
"Actually, it was kinda nice," he replied. "So what about now? Hotel?"
"You know what? Why don't we go get that beer? I know I'm no Roman or Seth but . . ."
"Sure," he interrupted her. "I'd love that."