CHAPTER THIRTY

KEITH

Molly and Keith had just finished breakfast when someone approached them. He was dressed in a very odd outfit. "Are you Keith Orton?" He asked.

"Um... Yes," Keith said with confusion.

"Yay! Come on, guys!" The man called. Five more men in identical outfits joined him out of nowhere. "Ready? Okay"

Suddenly, all six men started chanting, "Oh, Keithy, you're so fine! You're so fine, you blow my mind! Hey Keithy... Yeah, yeah, hey Keithy!" They were dancing and Keith realized this was an entirely male cheerleading squad.

"What the fuck?" He asked, shaking his head.

Molly was laughing hysterically. "They're pretty good," she teased him. Everyone was staring at them. People were laughing. Some were filming it on their phones.

"Gabe," Keith realized aloud. "Points for creativity, I'll admit..."

The cheer ended. Keith laughed good-naturedly and said, "Okay, guys, very funny. You can go now."

"No we can't," the leader said. "We were paid for twelve straight hours of service, and we always deliver! We have a reputation to uphold!"

"Twelve hours?" Keith demanded.

"Yes, Sir... We've been instructed to cheer for everything you do!"

"Everything?" Keith shook his head. "Time to walk away," he mumbled.

"Hit it, Boys!" The leader said.

"Walk this way! Talk this way!" They began singing and cheering to Aerosmith.

"I'm screwed, aren't I?" Keith asked Molly.

"Oh yeah. Totally screwed." She laughed as she added, "I'll see you in twelve hours." She kissed him and walked away.

"I'm gonna kill him for this," Keith mumbled.

The leader stopped their cheer and they switched to, "Be. Aggressive! Be-be aggressive!"

He might have just ignored them, but then Dolph Ziggler showed up. "Hey, you know, I used to be a cheeeleader!" He said. Without warning, he joined them in another rendition of Hey Keithy.

Afterward, Ziggler shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, Keith, but that Gabe kid is a comedic genius! I had to help him out. This one was just too good!"

Keith hated to admit it, but Ziggler was right. He might have met his match. Revenge is going to be a bitch, Gabe, he thought. As the cheerleaders continued cheering for everything he did, he began plotting his next prank.

CAYLA

Her days and nights were an endless blur. Nothing registered as she stared off into space. Sleep brought nightmares, but so did being awake. It was unending.

She heard a voice that briefly caught her attention. "Corri's good today," it said. "She's out with Randy and Alanna. Now it's Cayla's turn."

Nick, she realized. And if Nick was there, so was Matt. Why were they at her house? They were supposed to be in Japan.

"I told you all every day since you've been here, she doesn't want visitors," Saraya protested.

"But she needs visitors," Matt said, confirming Cayla's assumption that he was there, too.

"Corri is rising above her burdens on her own," a third voice said. "Cayla needs our help to do the same."

Cayla wanted to get up and go to them, but she couldn't remember how to move. It didn't matter. Moments later, they burst into her room. Kenny Omega, the owner of the third voice, scooped her up in his arms.

Cayla stared at him. "Kenny?" She asked. It hurt to speak. How many days had it been?

"Hello, Cayla," he said pleasantly.

"Cay, we're here for you," Nick said urgently. "I know it's bad, but you aren't alone."

"Nick... I..." Cayla shook her head. She couldn't form a sentence. Finally, she said, "It's good to see you guys."

Saraya looked stunned. "We brought hugs... And Kisses!" Matt said. He pulled out a bag of Hershey's Kisses. They were one of Cayla's favorite indulgences.

"I... I can't," she said.

"Cayla Casey, can't is not in your vocabulary!" Matt declared.

"And even if it takes all day, you're going to eat something," Nick added.

The Bucks and Kenny were determined. They sat with her and forced her to keep talking. She didn't say anything about the shooting or how screwed up she was in the head now, but she made small talk and tried to pretend she was alright.

Cayla tried not to eat. She wasn't hungry. Then she saw Nick's eyes pleading with her. She realized Trixie had given her the same look that morning. She was scaring the people she loved. She ate a chocolate Kiss and even tried to eat some salad. She only got down two forkfulls before she couldn't eat anymore.

She was exhausted. All she wanted to do was sleep and it was barely four in the afternoon. Her friends sensed this and apparently decided they'd gotten through to her enough for one day.

"You did good, Cayla," Nick told her. "Baby steps. Keep that up and you'll get better."

She wanted that to be true, but she wasn't sure how it could be. Nothing would ever be okay again.

DEAN

"I'm ready to come back," Dean told Shane.

"Your doctor said-" Shane began.

"Screw that. Our doctors will clear me. I'm fine."

"Dean, the psychological trauma-"

"I'm fine," Dean repeated. "Have the shrinks evaluate me."

"Dean, we can't just-"

"Shane... I need to go back to work. I'm gonna lose my mind sitting on the sidelines."

"You can be evaluated. If you pass, I will consider letting you come back."

Dean was relieved. "I'm ready when they are."

"Fine." Shane set things up quickly. Dean was physically evaluated right away.

"What's the verdict?" He asked the doctor afterward.

"You are healing well, but I would suggest a reduced level of risky behavior for a bit," the doctor said. Has he met me? Dean wondered. "You need to ease back into it until all of the bruising is gone. Promos only for at least a week, then enhancement matches-"

"They don't need to feed me fucking jobbers," Dean protested. "I wasn't gone that long."

"You need time to adjust. Your body suffered a physical shock. I'm only going to clear you if you do this my way."

Dean grumbled an impolite response. "Fine," he said louder. "If this is my only option, I'll take it."

"You still have to pass a psych eval, Dean," Shane reminded him.

"You know I'm nuts. The unstable thing's not a gimmick," Dean reminded him.

"I don't expect them to claim you're totally sane, but I need to be certain you're not suffering from PTSD."

"I'm not."

"If you are a danger to yourself, you can't come back yet."

"With the shit I've been through in my life, getting shot by this kid is nothing. I'm fine."

"Okay. Let's go see Dr. Cove. I told him it was urgent because you want to return to work."

Shane left Dean in Dr. Cove's office. "Dean Ambrose!" The doctor said with a whistle. "Now you are the last person I ever expected to see in my office."

"So just tell Shane I'm fine and we can get this over with," Dean said.

"Oh, no. You're going to talk to me, Dean. It's necessary."

He wants to pick apart the resident lunatic, he realized. "What do you wanna know, Doc?"

"Tell me how you're coping. You took a bullet for Paul. That was very brave. Were you afraid?"

"I wasn't anything. I just reacted, and then I was bleeding and it was like, 'oh, shit, maybe that was a bad idea.' But I'm okay."

"Your daughter saw it happen, correct?"

Dean tensed slightly. "Yeah, the Offspring unfortunately bore witness to me getting shot."

"And how is she holding up?"

"She'll be fine. My offspring's tough."

"I'm sure she is. Tell me, why are you so nonchalant about getting shot?"

"I grew up in a bad neighborhood. It's not the first time I got shot. It's not a big deal to me. The only thing I regret is how much it upset Molly and my friends."

"What was your childhood like, Dean?"

Fuck, Dean thought. I walked right into that. Aloud, he said, "It was Hell. Thankfully, it's in the past."

"Why was it so bad? Is that why you don't go by Jon Good anymore?"

"It's a shitty name. I like Dean more. There are too many Jons in this company."

"But it's the one you were born with, Jon."

"That's not my fucking name."

"But it is, Jon."

"Say that name again and I'll slit your throat with my fucking fork."

"I really think we should explore why this upsets you so much."

"And I really think that you're an asshole. Let's keep our thoughts to ourselves, okay?"

"I apologize if I overstepped, Dean."

"You did."

"Let's talk about your parents."

"Let's talk about yours."

"Dean, I need to evaluate you-"

"In the present time. For PTSD from the shooting. Not for anything else, Doc. My past is off-limits, understood? It has nothing to do with my current condition."

"Our pasts make us who we are-"

"I'm a psychopath. You guys know that already. The question is, can I still wrestle?"

"Yes, I believe that you can... But I won't sign off on it until we talk more."

"That's bullshit!"

"You're upset, Dean. I'm just trying to help."

"I'm upset because you upset me! Otherwise, I'm fine."

"Your parents hurt you, didn't they?"

"My father was an asshole. He was barely there, and when he was around, he was a dick. And dear old mom? She was a drug addict. She kept tootsie rolls in her purse. Watch my old CZW promos sometime if you want details."

"Dean-"

"That's all you're getting on this, alright? Public knowledge and that's it."

"I need to understand where you're coming from-"

"I'm coming from my hotel room."

"Dean, you're getting upset because you need to talk-"

"No. I don't. Not about this. Ever."

"Did they hit you? Were they cruel? You must wonder why they never loved you like parents are supposed to-"

"Fuck you! Fuck you and fuck this company if you're the best they have to offer as so-called help! I don't need help!"

He stood up and ignored the doctor as he offered to write him a prescription to help. He ran out of the office not giving a fuck if he was fired. Paul would hire him back whenever he took over again anyway. Who did this fucking Quack think he was?

He kept running with no destination in mind. He just needed to keep moving. He couldn't let the things he kept buried catch him because some douchebag wouldn't shut his fucking mouth.

Without warning, Dean was hit with a memory that somehow caught him even as he ran.

"Jon... Jonny, come here," his mother called.

He was eight. She smiled at him from the couch. The needle she'd just shot herself up with lay a few feet away. The vomit from her evening of drinking the night before was still in the bucket he'd put beside her. He cleaned it out without her asking. When he went back, he brought her water. He also brought a cup of juice for his little brother, who sat on the floor in soiled clothes.

He cleaned his brother up and changed him into something less dirty and put him in his room to play with his toys. Then he took a towel and wiped the sweat off of his mother's forehead. She grabbed his hand as he was about to walk away.

"Jonny, come give Mommy a kiss," she said.

"I need to clean the dishes," he objected. He needed an excuse to get away from her. He knew that look in her eyes. She was extremely high and this was one of those times when she was lonely, too...

"Such a good boy..." She laughed. "My little man of the house... Come take care of Mommy, my little man..."

Dean started running again, faster this time. He had to escape. He refused to go back there. That was a long time ago. She was dead and had been for two decades. His little brother hadn't even made it to adulthood, despite Dean's best efforts to protect him. None of this mattered anymore. He had to keep running. That made it easier to tell himself the moisture running down his face was sweat, because Dean Ambrose did not fucking cry...

But Jon Good does, his mother's voice mocked him.

So what? Dean thought. That fucker's dead.

At some point, Molly called after him, "Sire!" When he didn't stop, she fell into step beside him, easily matching his pace. "Sire, what's wrong?" She asked.

"Fucker..." Dean mumbled. "Wouldn't... shut... up..."

"Sire..." Molly jumped in front of him, forcing him to stop running. "Who needs to meet my fork, Sire? I shall handle this for you."

"Company shrink."

"You saw a shrink?"

"I was trying to get cleared to go back to work."

Molly looked worried at his words. "Are you sure you're ready for that?"

"Yeah, but the medical doc says I gotta wait to wrestle, ease back into it."

"That's probably better, Sire... What about the shrink?"

"He's a quack."

"What did he do, Sire?"

"He just... You know I don't like talking about my past, Offspring. It's irrelevant to whether or not I can safely do my job, but he kept pushing..."

"Are you alright, Sire?"

He wanted to tell her he was fine, but that was a lie, and he and Molly had an agreement never to lie to each other, no matter what. "No," he admitted. "To be honest, having him push this hurt more than getting shot did."

Molly hugged him. "I shall fork him with much enthusiasm for this, Sire."

"Not this time, Offspring..."

"He upset you."

"Yeah, but he's not worth your fork."

"But you are. Anyone who upsets my Sire shall be forked! It's one of my Ten Commandments."

"What are the other nine?"

"They all pretty much end with 'or thou shalt be forked!' The details don't matter." She smiled at him and Dean managed to laugh. His offspring never failed to remind him of the good things in the world. She had no idea just how much she'd saved him from himself over the years.

"Molly..." He hugged her tighter.

After a minute, Molly choked out, "Sire... Permission to breathe?".

Dean released his hold. "Sorry, Offspring," he said.

"It's okay," she assured him.

"I love you, Offspring."

"I love you, too, Sire." She paused. "Come on."

"Where?"

"Ice cream. Duh." She dragged him to the nearest ice cream place and Dean struggled to push all of the memories aside and live in the moment. He'd learned a long time ago that it was the only way he would ever survive.

MOLLY

After a while, she was certain her Sire would be okay. Only then did Molly leave his side. She'd seen him freak out over the years, but never quite so badly.

"Molly, have you got a second?" Lucas asked. He looked upset.

"For you?" Molly asked. "Yes."

"I'm kind of worried... About Nicky."

"Why?" Molly was immediately concerned.

"He's... different lately. He's really twitchy. I don't think he's sleeping... And he really hurt Brandon. It's not that Brandon didn't deserve it, but it doesn't seem like Nicky to go that far."

"It's not," Molly admitted. "The only other time he did something close to that, he was drunk."

"He's not drinking... At least, I don't think he is. Not after what happened with Corri. He told me that really freaked him out."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I don't know... It could just be stress, but... I'm just worried, you know? He's not okay."

Molly nodded. "I see it, too... I'll see what I can do for him. Thanks, Lucas."

Molly decided to ask her Sire for advice. They quickly agreed the Bucks were not the best option because they might just superkick him until he forgot his name. Corri and Randy were both too stressed out... Molly finally settled on asking Kenny Omega to talk to him. He was outside of the situation, but he was also a familiar face.

Kenny worked quickly, reporting back to her within an hour. "He's not drunk," Kenny said.

"But?" Molly asked.

"But he's not okay, either. Our Young Nicholas has been seeing a therapist."

"He has?" Molly was startled by the news. How had she not noticed Nicky was in such bad shape that he needed professional help?

"He put him on some medication, and it could be that this behavior is a side affect... But I'm not sure."

"Wait, Nicky's on meds? Do you think he's taking them as prescribed?"

"That is an excellent question... It's hard to say, but I do think he needs help. He's... chatty."

"Chatty?"

"Yes, delightfully so. In fact, I could barely keep up with him because he was talking so quickly... But that, I fear, is not the Young Nicholas I remember. He was always a quiet kid."

"You're right... Thanks, Kenny. I'll talk to him and see what's going on."

Molly headed to Nicky's hotel room. He smiled when he saw her and let her inside. "Nicky... Can we talk?" She asked.

"Sure, Mol. What's up?" He asked.

"I heard you've been seeing a doctor... A shrink."

Nicky looked embarassed. "So you sent Kenny?"

"I was worried... Lucas was worried."

"He was?" Nicky looked surprised. "Well, I'm fine, Molly. Really."

"You're twitchy, Nicky."

"I... I just can't sleep."

"Nicky, I know you're on meds. Be honest with me. Are you only taking them as prescribed?"

"The Xanax is as needed. My anxiety has been worse since the shooting, logically, so I am taking it a little more often than I expected to... And the Adderall-"

"Adderall? Why the fuck are you on that?"

"I was having trouble with my schoolwork. He thinks it's ADHD-"

"Nicky! You do not have ADHD! This guy is a quack!"

"He's a doctor. I think he'd know better than we would."

"He's an idiot! You're like the least ADHD person I've ever met! And Adderall is really strong. It's dangerous. In fact, both of those meds are controlled substances. How long did he wait to diagnose you? Ten seconds?"

"About two minutes, actually..." Nicky stared at his shoes.

"See? He's a quack!" Molly sighed. "You need to get off those meds right now, Nicky."

"I need them!"

"No, you don't."

"I can't... The Xanax, Molly... The anxiety is so bad without it that I can't breathe. Please..."

"Okay, I admit you might have anxiety... But the Adderall? It's gotta go."

"I can't sleep!" Nicky stared at her with frantic eyes. "I need it. The Xanax stops the panic, but it makes me tired... And I can't sleep, Molly. I can't! Every time I try, I see people die! I can't... Please... Please don't make me..."

Molly's heart ached. Nicky had never been like this before. "Nicky... You need help... But these pills aren't the answer. Let me talk to Alanna-"

"No! She'll tell my parents. They don't need this. They can't handle this..."

"Okay, then Keith. Let me tell Keith. We can help you through this together."

Reluctantly, Nicky agreed. Molly called Keith and told him to meet her in Nicky's room. When he arrived, she explained what was going on.

"Nick... We're going to stay with you as long as it takes you to kick this out of your system," Keith promised. "Then I'm going to find you a better doctor."

"He's the company doctor," Nicky said. "There's no one else."

"Dr. Quack is the same one who upset the Sire!" Molly realized aloud. "I'm going to Shane. He needs to be fired!" And forked, she added silently.

Nicky grabbed her arm as she stood. "Don't go," he begged. "The panic... It's getting bad again."

Molly stopped in her tracks. "Shane can wait a day. I'm here, Nicky. We both are. We're not going anywhere."

Molly held Nicky as he hyperventilated and cried. Keith took over when, hours later, Nicky began to scream as the withdrawl symptoms hit too hard. Molly cried right along with Nicky as he begged them to give him just one Xanax to make the panic stop.

How did this get so bad so fast? She wondered in horror. She knew Keith was forcing himself to be strong, but she saw the way this was hurting him, too. He and Nicky were so close and now he had to deny his baby brother the one thing that would make his pain stop. She knew they were doing the right thing, but that didn't make it easier. When Nicky finally collapsed from exhaustion the next morning, Molly and Keith remained curled up on either side of him, both too terrified to leave him.