Hello Again and welcome back to Angel in the Asylum! I wanna thank everyone for the awesome start and all the nice and kind words you had left. It means the world to me! If you left me a review check out down below. As always, if you have any questions let me know. If not hope you enjoy!

Monday Night Raw: January 27, 2014/ Smackdown: January 31, 2014

Edited: 9/1/2020

Chapter Two

"Angel…Angel can you hear us?" The words echoed in her head, though they sounded far away. "Angel, can you hear me?" Each time whoever was speaking called for her, they seemed to get closer. However, the closer the voice seemed the get, the more pain radiated throughout her body, starting at her head and moving downwards.

"Can you hear me?"

Trying her hardest to answer the question, all she managed to get out was a small moan. What's happening? She questioned as she tried to force her eyes open, but they wouldn't listen to her. That's when she realized that she was strapped down to something. She could feel that there was something across her legs, her arms, and her chest, holding her completely still. But the thing that freaked her out the most was the fact that something held her neck in place.

What's happening? Why can't I move? Why am I strapped down? Why can't I open my eyes?

"Angel," The voice called out to her once more. "Can you do me a favor and move your hand? Make a fist or wiggle your fingers." The voice asked.

Move my hand? Why on earth was someone asking her to do that? Even as she questioned it, she did what she was told.

"That's good." The voice praised her.

After a few more attempts, Angel was finally able to get her eyes to open. It was just a crack, but she could see that she was staring upwards at the ceiling and that it was moving in an alarming rate. Panicking even more, she strained herself to look around. All she could manage to see were the two men who were walking beside the thing that she was strapped to.

"Her eyes are open." The man to her left said looking down at her.

"Hey, there you are." The other one glanced at her quickly with a small smile. "We're going to get you checked out here, just be patient."

Judging by the way the ceiling turned, they had rounded into a doorway and into a small, cream-white room. "Alright Angel, we're going to take off the brace. Don't move."

The men fiddled with the thing around her neck and soon the stiffness was gone. However, now that the thing holding her neck was gone, a flood gate of pain seemed to open, and she let out a small whimper.

"We're going to get you something for the pain, don't worry." One of the men said with a soothing tone in his voice. "Try not to move around."

Blinking the tears out of her eyes, Angel realized that she was laying on a gurney and the two men were part of the medical staff of WWE. "What happened?" She winced as she spoke.

"What's the last thing you remember?" One of the men stopped racing around the room, and turned to look at her, looking quite surprised.

The last thing I remember? She let her eyes close and tried to clear her jumbled head so that she could think. She could remember watching the Shield verses John Cena, Daniel Bryan, and Sheamus while she got ready for her interview. She remembered the Wyatt Family had interfered in the match, making the Shield lose, as well as watching Randy Orton showboating his belts around the ring while she waited to do her interview. But after that…nothing.

"I was doing an in-interview with Randy Orton." She groaned.

"That's the last thing you remember?" The man asked as he held something out towards her mouth. "Pain pill. Chewable."

She gave a small nod as she let the pain pill be popped in her mouth. Her jaw cracked and popped as she chewed and swallowed the gross tasting pill. "Did something happen afterwards?"

The two men sighed and looked at each other, as if they were deciding whether or not to tell her what happened.

"Randy Orton hit you and sent you flying." A sorta familiar, deep, gravelly voice came from overhead.

Hissing, she cranked her head up and looked at the person who had just walked through the doors of the trainers' room. However, due to the pain that raced through her at the moment, she couldn't move her head enough to see the entire person. All she knew was that it was a man, in black cargo pants and a black tank top.

Where had she seen that look before? She couldn't think hard enough to remember.

"Dean, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?" One of the medics sighed as he walked over to her, holding a small flashlight in his hand. "Look straight please."

Angel tried not to cringe as the flashlight was shined into each of her eyes. Dean? Dean Ambrose?

"Just here to check on the girl." The gravelly voice spoke again.

Angel could hear the medic sigh again as he turned off the flashlight. "Well no concussion somehow." He did his best to smile down at her, though because of the nice blue dots that filled her vision from the light, she couldn't really see it. "I'm going to go talk to Mrs. McMahon; I want you to stay put and rest until I come back, alright?"

"Yes sir."

The medic that was checking on her, gently patted the gurney beside her head before walking off. As soon as she knew he was out the door, she started to wiggle herself around on the gurney, starting with her toes and working her way up, trying to get the stiffness out of her body.

"Hey! Didn't you hear the doc? You need to rest." That gravelly voice made her jump. While trying to work out the tension from her body she had forgotten that anyone else was in the room with her.

As slowly as she could muster, she moved her head to the side as far as she could, trying once again to see the owner of the voice. This time the man stepped forward, as if knowing that she couldn't quite see him. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped. Standing there against the wall was indeed Dean Ambrose, dressed in his Shield gear.

"Dean Ambrose?" She mumbled to herself as she blinked at the man.

"The one and only toots." He gave her a slight smirk.

She had never seen 'The Mouthpiece' of the Shield this close up before, in fact she hadn't seen any of the members of the Shield this close up. The man was big, though not the biggest Superstar, he definitely had to be over six foot tall, and standing in all black just made him look even bigger. However, what really got her, was the intensity she saw in his eyes. She had seen those blue eyes piercing through the camera but up this close they were overwhelming.

As she stared at the man, her brain seemed to turn on and register what he had said before. "Did you say that Randy hit me?"

Dean pursed his lips together and nodded his head. "Punched you right in the face, before throwing you over the top rope and into the announce table."

Her eyes widened as she brought her hand up to her face. Her fingers brushed against her right cheek and immediately pain spiked through her. Like a flash, she could picture Randy Orton's fist in front of her eyes, as well as the feeling of being thrown through the air. "Yeah, I kind of remember that now."

Dean nodded until it basically became head bobbing as he walked around the small room.

The sounds of high heels marching their way down the hallway, made her look back towards the door; just in time to see Stephanie McMahon walking through like a woman on a mission.

"Miss Miles." Her voice was calm but apologetic as the woman's eyes landed on her. However, they were only on her for a moment before snapping over to Dean, who was now leaning against the far wall. She saw a frown form on Stephanie's face, before it disappeared with a shake of her head. "Miss Miles. I'm so sorry about what happened out there." She walked straight over to the side of the gurney. "That should have never happened…"

"You think?" Dean interrupted causing Stephanie to glare at him out of the corner of her eye.

"…disciplinary action will be taken. If there's anything we can do, and if there is any kind of medical problem that comes from this the WWE will take care of it personally."

"Thank you." Angel smiled up at the woman. Ever since she had met her, she thought that Stephanie wasn't as bad of a person off screen as she was on the show. Although she was still the tempered, best for business type of woman that the world knew her as, she really did seem to play it up for the fans.

"How are you feeling?" Triple H aka Hunter Hearst Helmsley aka Stephanie McMahon's husband joined her beside the gurney.

"Like a truck hit me."

"Or a Viper." Dean cut in again.

"Mr. Ambrose." Stephanie took a deep breath as she turned back towards him. "Since you're already here, I would like to thank you, and the rest of the Shield for helping out tonight with your quick thinking and actions." She gave him what looked to be a forced smile.

Dean waved her off and sighed. "We did what we had to do."

Angel cocked her head slightly as she looked at him. What did they have to do?

"And we're sure glad you did." Stephanie told him. Again, Dean seemed to shrug off her nice words. "We will talk more about this later. For now, we need to let Miss Miles here get some rest."

"Are you staying at the Resident Inn with the rest of the crew?" Hunter gave her a warm smile as he pulled out his cellphone.

"I am." She yawned, which meant the pain pill that the medics had given her was starting to work.

"I'll get one of the hotel's valets to come and get you."

Stephanie looked at her husband. "Someone should go with her, just in case." Her eyes fell back to Angel. "I know the medics cleared you to go, but I think it would be safer if someone went with you."

"I'll find someone…"

"I'll go." Dean said making both Stephanie and Hunter turn towards him in shock. "What?" He cocked an eyebrow. "I'm heading back to the hotel myself."

Stephanie shook her head. "Thank you for your offer Dean, but I'll just have one of the crew take her back."

"Whatever, I was only offering." He rolled his eyes and looked down at the ground.

Angel looked around the room and could almost feel the tension seeping from the three people around her. She knew that the Shield and the Authority didn't get along very well. They seemed to tolerate each other, but due to the fact that Stephanie and Hunter didn't like when people went against them, and that the Shield was practically the poster children for doing what you want, when you wanted, they butted heads quite a lot.

The last thing Angel wanted was to throw something else between them, or side with one over the other, but it made since for Dean to take her back if he was already heading that way. "I'm fine going back with Dean." She finally spoke up.

"Angel." Stephanie's eyes closed as she sighed and shook her head. "You don't…"

"I mean if he's heading back to the hotel anyways it just makes more since to go back with him then to drag a production member away from their job, right?"

She couldn't help but to notice the smirk that worked its way onto Dean's face. "You can't argue with that logic."

"Alright then." She could feel the frustration and anger that poured off of Stephanie as she took a deep breath. "I want you to rest up until Friday. We'll talk then, alright?" Angel nodded in agreement as she watched Stephanie's head snap towards Dean. "Take good care of her." She said in that infamous demanding tone.

"Yes ma'am." Dean gave a phony salute as he pushed himself from the wall with that smirk still plastered on his face. "Ready to go?"

Angel nodded as she tried to lift her head for the first time. Though, not as bad as she was expecting, pain rushed from a spot on the back of her head from the movement. Fighting through it, she pushed herself up onto her elbows, when Dean and Hunter both took one of her arms and helped her to her feet. She felt like a paper doll as they lifted her with ease.

Once the two men got her to her feet, Dean let her go and Hunter bent down so he was at eye level with her. "You alright?"

Contemplating the answer, she rolled her very stiff neck with a groan. "Should be."

Seeming to accept the answer she gave, Hunter stepped away. "You have mine and Steph's number, call if you need anything."

"Thank you." She smiled up at the man as her eyes were drawn to the corner of the room where Dean was fighting with a wheelchair. "You don't need to do that…I can walk."

Letting out a curse, he ripped the thing out of the mess of wires and supplies, picked it up over his head, and carried it towards her. "Yeah well, you might be able to walk but after getting knocked out like that, it would be best if you don't." He said as he placed the chair down in front of her. "Trust me." Without another word she was helped into the chair.

"Do you need anything before we go?" Stephanie asked, sounding as if she was trying to hold back her anger.

Angel slowly shook her head. "No, other than grabbing my bag and jacket from the crew's locker room, I'm fine."

"Alright then, as Hunter said if you need anything, anything at all, don't hesitate to ask." Stephanie told her while her husband wrapped his arm around her. Before the two of them walked out of the room, she saw their eyes lock onto Dean as if they were warning him. It was a look that made her shudder, but Dean, he just shook it off as he walked around the back of the wheelchair.

"We'll grab your stuff and then head out." He said as he pushed her out of the room and down the hallway.

The backstage area was already pretty much empty; just a few members of the crew were left running around, and all of them gave them weird looks. Some even stopped and asked if she was ok; to which she kindly smiled and thanked each one of them for worrying about her while Dean just kept pushing her down the hallway.

After grabbing her bag for her out of the crew's locker room and helping her to put on her jacket, Dean took her out towards the loading dock. They both seemed to sigh as they looked at the nicely dressed man who was standing by the back door of the car that was parked at the end of the small ramp. As soon as he noticed them coming, he opened the door.

"Thank you," She smiled up at the man, who tipped his hat.

Dean made her wait until he put the brakes on the wheelchair before helping her out of the dang thing. Holding onto her arm, he walked her slowly to the open door and helped her climb in, before pushing the wheelchair back towards the building. When she was completely in the car and settled, Dean joined her in what, at first, she thought was a spacious backseat. Man, he's big.

"You good?" The valet ducked his head in.

Angel glanced at Dean who was shifting around in his seat, looking like he was trying to find a middle ground between his legs being smashed up against the back of the passenger seat and hitting his head off the roof. "Um. I think so."

The valet nodded at her before shutting the door. Through the tinted window, she watched as he walked around the car and got into the driver seat. After a little bit of adjustment, he started up the car and pulled out of the arena's parking lot.

Giving a slight hiss, she all but doubled over as she held her head in her hands trying to stop the pain that came from each and every bump that they drove over. But it was a fruitless endeavor.

"Here." She heard Dean sigh as she felt him reach over and grab her by the shoulder. Pulling her towards him, he put her head against his chest before slouching down in his spot. "This will help with the bumps, trust me."

"Oh, thanks." She blushed as Dean gave a slight chuckle.

"You say thanks a lot."

"Well it's polite."

"I guess."

Not quite sure what to say next, she let the car ride drift into an awkward silence that fit the feeling she was having, due to her head being against the chest of a man she didn't really know. Though, she had to admit that he was right, the bumps weren't so bad anymore. In fact, the pain had dulled down enough that her eyes started to drift shut.

D.D.D.

Dean sighed as he looked down at the woman who was now sleeping on his chest. He couldn't help but to feel uncomfortable in this position, and not just because his knees were in the back of the seat in front of him. He didn't like getting this close to people. But he also didn't like seeing an innocent person in pain like this, especially because of some brute with a temper.

But he couldn't help the almost claustrophobic feeling that racked him. Clenching and unclenching his hand, he tried to fight the urge to push her off him and sit as far away as possible. What did you get yourself into? He shook his head as he turned to look out the window, hoping that the saying 'out of sight, out of mind' really worked.

He let out a deep breath as he realized that they were already sitting at the light outside of the hotel. Normally with a hotel this close to the show, he would have just walked to it, but instead he had to offer to take Angel back.

"We're here, sir."

"Yeah." He grunted. 'Sir' was not something he was used to being called, and it only added to his awkward feelings.

The valet quickly got out, made his way around the car, and opened the door for him. "Do you need help waking the young lady?"

Dean looked down at Angel and decided whether or not to wake her. "Nah, let her sleep."

With some careful maneuvering and a few choice words that made the valet cough, he had gotten himself so that he was half in and half out of the car. Thank god I asked Roman to grab my stuff. Dean sighed as he swung Angel's backpack over his shoulder, the strap barely fitting around his trap. He then reached down once more and scooped her into his arms. Man, she was tiny, she felt like she weighed less than his gym bag.

After nodding at the valet and telling him that his tip was on WWE, mainly Hunter, he began to slowly make his way up into the hotel's main lobby. And wouldn't you know it, all eyes were on him. Great. He groaned as he walked up to the front desk.

"Hey." He called out to the lady, who had her back facing him.

When she turned around, she was instantly taken back. "Can…Can I help you." Her eyes went from him, to Angel, then back to him.

"Yeah, you see my friend here is having a bad night. And I don't know what room she's staying in." He said as he let Angel's bag slide down his arm. "Her room key is in her wallet, I think." He hoped. "If you could dig that out for me, and tell me what room she's staying in, that would be great."

The woman just looked at him with her mouth hanging open.

"Um…I'm not…"

"Shit." He mumbled under his breath knowing how weird this looked. "Alright listen, we both work for WWE. My ID is in my wallet which is in my back pocket, hers is..." He adjusted his hold on the woman in his arms, so that the WWE work ID that was clipped to her belt loop, was now hanging down beside his arm. "I give you full permission to reach into my pocket and get my ID. If you want."

He watched as the lady hesitated and gritted his teeth as she slowly rounded the desk.

"Hey, you're Dean Ambrose." He heard someone call.

"No one other." Dean couldn't help but roll his eyes at the man that was making his way out of the door behind the desk. This was not a time to meet a fan. Or was it? Dean's eyes lit up. "Hey man, can you do me a favor and tell your friend here who I am?" He hoped that hearing the same thing that he said from a coworker would make the lady stop freaking out.

"Yeah," The man smirked as he turned towards the lady. "He's Dean Ambrose from WWE; I watch this guy and his buddies wrestle like every Monday and Friday.

"See, I was telling the truth."

After a bit more time talking to both the fan, and the lady, who was still looking at him like he was a murderer, he finally got them to tell him what room Angel was staying in, and to get her hotel key out of her bag for him.

By the time he got up to her room and got the door unlocked, he could feel that his body was ready for sleep. Stepping through the doors sideways, Dean carried the sleeping beauty in his arms to the double bed and laid her down.

"Finally." He said stretching his back and cracking his neck.

He placed her bag and keycard down on the end table before writing a note about how she got into the room, that way she didn't freak out in the morning when she finds herself in a completely different spot from when she fell asleep. He knew that feeling and it wasn't fun.

With one final look at the girl, Dean shook his head before leaving the room. All he wanted to do next was take a shower and crash.

What a night.

A.A.A.

Angel groaned as she stepped out of the shower. Even though the warm water had helped, her body was still tense and complained with each movement. Slowly, she reached for her towel and wrapped it around herself before stumbling up to the sink. Taking a deep breath, her eyes locked onto her foggy reflection as she reached up and wiped the steamed-up glass. Her heart fell as her eyes traveled down to the yellowing bruise on her cheek before falling to her healing lip. She couldn't believe that it had already been four day since what had happened. It still felt like a nightmare. That was until the pain meds wore off, then it felt very much real.

Forcing herself to look away from the mirror, she grabbed her phone off the sink and turned the screen on. "Crap." It was already eight thirty. Yesterday she had gotten a call from Stephanie McMahon, asking her to come in sometime during the taping of SmackDown to talk. And she was already late.

As quick as her head would let her, she got dressed in a nice shirt and a pair of dress slacks. She then gave a careful once over with her brush before turning to grab her bag off the bed. That's when her eyes locked onto the orange bottle of meds that sat on the end table. Reaching across the bed she grabbed the bottle and shook it. Only two more doses left, tonight before bed and tomorrow morning. She prayed that by tomorrow night the pain would be better, because she knew that the over the counter pain pills wouldn't work nearly as much as the ones that the WWE medical staff had prescribed for her.

Stuffing the bottle into her bag, she noticed the wadded-up paper that she had been caring around since Monday night. It was the note that Dean Ambrose had left for her after he brought her back to her room. All it said was.

You fell asleep in the car, so I carried you up.

Hope you feel better.

Dean.

Short, sweet, and to the point. She smiled at the piece of paper. She would need to thank him the next time she saw him. Not only did he volunteer to personally take her back to the hotel and let her lay on him in the car, to help with the pain, he had also carried her all the way up to her room. Who knew that the Lunatic Fringe had a soft side?

Realizing that she was just sitting on the edge of her bed looking down at Dean's note, when she should have been leaving for the show, she practically jumped to her feet.

Making sure that she had everything, she booked it out the door and down to the hotel valet that had been asked to take her to the arena, since the meds she was on made it hard to drive.

By the time she finally got to the show, they were halfway through the night. After thanking and tipping the valet, she walked into the arena and was instantly met with looks of shock and awe. She could hear all the whispers that followed her as she walked quickly down the hallway towards the door that held the removable sign that said, 'Stephanie McMahon.'

Taking a moment to compose herself, she knocked.

"Come in."

Opening the door, her eyes locked on Stephanie who was sitting at the end of a very large conference table, looking as powerful as she was. "Stephanie?"

"Miss Miles." Stephanie smiled up from her paperwork and stood from her chair. "I'm so glad you could make it in today. How are you feeling?" She rounded the large table.

"Much better." Angel smiled back as Stephanie grabbed her shoulders and gave her face a nice good look over. "Oh, thank you for the pain meds."

"I told you we were going to take care of you." Stephanie took a step back.

"And I thank you for that."

The principle owner of WWE gave a glance to her watch and her eyes went wide. "Shoot, I have a meeting in a few minutes, so we don't have much time to talk right now, but I want to speak to you about your job."

Angel's heart sank at the words. For the WWE, talking about someone's job, was good enough as saying that they were fired. And how many times had she heard this woman in front of her say the words 'you're fired' on live TV? She hated to know how much those words fell from the woman's lips behind scenes.

"Ok." She swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Oh! It's nothing to worry about!" Stephanie said noticing her fear. "It's just a change in positions."

A change of position? "What do you mean?"

Stephanie walked back around the table and gathered her paperwork. "Instead of being a reporter, we would like you to become a valet for the Shield."

"A valet?" Angel coughed. A valet! A WWE valet was normally a pretty woman, who walked male Superstars down to the ring and acted as a piece of arm candy. And Stephanie wanted her to become that for the Shield. "Why?"

"Well you see, we got so much fan mail over this last week asking how you were, if you would be back on the show sometime soon, and if the Shield was going to get Randy Orton for what he did to you." She said crossing her arms over her folder of papers. "After thinking everything over, Hunter and I believe it would be best if we put you together with the Shield, since they were the ones that came running to your aid. And we think that the WWE Universe would love it."

Angel had heard that it was the Shield that came running to her aid after Randy Orton had attacked her. A few of the crew members that had her number, had texted her all about what happened. Even about how Dean had followed the medics as they wheeled her out on the gurney. A few of them even sent her the clip of what happened, though she hadn't watched it yet.

She couldn't bring herself to do it. She had tried. On Tuesday; while waiting for her plane to go home for a few days, she watched all of the clips of Raw on WWE's YouTube page, though as soon as it got to the after show, she had to turn it off.

"I don't know…" Angel blushed as she played with the hem of her shirt. "I don't know if I would be a good valet."

Stephanie brushed away her concern. "Why don't we give it a try next Monday Night Raw and see how it goes. If it's the term valet you don't like, we do hope that this could turn into a managing position once you get the hang of the job. So what do you say?"

Biting her lip, she looked up at the powerful woman in front of her. How do you say no to your boss, especially when your boss is Stephanie McMahon? "Alright, let's give it a try."

"Great." Stephanie's eyes lit up and a smile came to her face. "Well I have to run to my meeting, but we'll talk more about this soon." Angel nodded as she watched Stephanie pretty much run out of the room, leaving her standing there alone.

Letting out a huge sigh, she leaned back against the large conference table. Her head was spinning, and it wasn't just because of the slight headache that she had. Somehow, she went from leaving her hotel room thinking that she was going to be talking to her boss about coming back to work, to thinking she was getting fired, to finally leaving the meeting as the Shield's new valet.

Wow…

Skovko: Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. I hope this one is too your liking as well.

espeon44: I'm not sure what I'm going to do with Seth yet. So I can't say yes or no.

Brookeworm3: I know, what the heck. Lol I didn't want to make anyone really that bad of a person but seeing that Randy is known to lose control and attack people, like Stephanie McMahon and John Cena's father, I thought it would in his character to do it. And thank you for the kind words! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.

Becky619: Thank you for following! Hope you liked the story.