CHAPTER 4

Dean and Renee were sleeping in their bed that night when a noise from downstairs caused Dean to stir from his slumber.

*CLANG*

Dean slowly sat up in bed. The sound came from the kitchen. He sat quietly and listened.

*THUD*

Dean reached to his right and pushed a button at the bottom of the lamp base to light up the room. He rose from his bed and reached for the top drawer of his bed side table.

"Honey," Renee addressed tiredly as she sat up in bed. "What's going on?"

"I think we have company," Dean answered, gun in hand.

"Should I call the police?"

"Not yet. Just stay here and be as quiet as possible."

Dean checked the clip of the gun, then slid it back into place.

"12 rounds?"

"Yep."

"No wonder you were cast as John Shaw in 12 Rounds: Lockdown. You look so sexy while holding that gun."

Dean knelt beside Renee on the bed making sure the gun was pointing away from her. "Is that the only time I look sexy," he whispered seductively.

"No. It's an everyday thing."

Dean growled playfully before kissing his wife fully on the mouth.

"Be careful."

"I will."

Dean rose from the mattress and made his way to the hallway. Standing in the hallway, he held the gun out in front of him. Felt like he was playing the role of John Shaw again. Minus the locked-up precinct, Officer Burke, and the fancy yellow car.

He made it to the stair case when he heard another soft thud coming from the kitchen. He descended the stairs and slowly crept towards the entryway of the kitchen. His back rested against the wall by the kitchen. He breathed in and out through his nose before reaching his left hand around the corner and flipped the switch, engulfing the kitchen in light. He listened again for a sound. Strange. Nothing.

He peeked around the corner cautiously and saw the invader of the home.

"Really? Really?"

A yellow and white cat somehow made it's way into their house. But how? All the doors and windows were locked. Of course. Blue's doggie door. Dean sat the gun on the counter to his right and calmly approached the cat.

"Hey, there. Where did you come from? What are you doing in here?"

Dean took a knee in front of the cat and held out his right hand. The cat sniffed at his fingers, and gave them a lick before rubbing his head against Dean's palm.

"So you're the reason why I'm awake at 2:15 in the morning."

Dean stood and reached into a cabinet for a plastic bowl. He walked over to the refrigerator and took out the milk. He removed the cap from the jug and poured some into the bowl. He felt the cat rubbing against the back of his pajama pants. He chuckled replacing the cap to the jug, the putting it back into the fridge. He picked up the bowl from the counter and walked towards the back door leading out to the pool. The cat followed.

Dean unlocked the door and stepped outside. He sat the bowl just outside the door and the cat began to lap it up. Dean shook his head before casting his eyes towards his sleeping dog Blue. How the cat didn't disturb the dog was beyond Dean.

Dean walked back into the kitchen and shut the door, locking it back. He chuckled again at the thought all of this was over a cat. His eyes caught something in the glass of the door. A figure in a red and black mask stood behind him. He turned away from the door...

*SMACK*

A right fist connected with Dean's face knocking him to the floor. His attacked was on top of him with a chloroformed rag over Dean's mouth and nose. Dean struggled underneath the body of the intruder. He tried to fight him off, but was surprised at how strong this person was. Dean's balled up his right fist and struck his opponent twice in the face, knocking him away. Dean rolled over and gasped deeply for air. He was coughing trying to breathe. Dean began crawling over to the counter where his gun had been placed. The attacked made it to his feet and stalked behind Dean. He kicked Dean hard in the ribs. Dean continued to crawl towards the counter. Rising to his knees, his hand reached up and felt for the gun. He felt nothing. He rose to his feet and looked. The gun was not there. He heard a click behind him and slowly turned.

The man in the mask held the gun Dean had and was aiming it at his chest. Dean looked at the gun, then at the man.

"What do you want?"

The man pulled something out of his back pocket and held it up for Dean to see. A picture. Of his wife. Of Renee.

Before Dean knew what happened, the invader swung out with his right hand, with the gun, and struck Dean hard across the face. Dean's body slumped against the counter top, then slowly sank to the floor.

Lights out for Dean Ambrose.