Hello! Just wanted to say sorry for the wait for this one. Life has really gotten in the way of me writing and I hate it. I promise I'm still working on this story. Also I wanted to say this chapter is kind of a filler chapter about he movie. I hope you like it

August 25th - September 18th, 2014 (Filming of 12 Rounds 3: Lockdown)

Stepping into the lane, Shaw turned to the small keypad that controlled the target system. Sighing, he pulled his safety glasses out of his pocket and put them on. Before his 'leave', coming down to the range and emptying a few mags was one of his favorite things to do. It relaxed him. Now, he was the farthest thing from relaxed. Pursing his lips, he stared at the flashing screen asking him what distance he wanted. The auto pilot in his mind rang out and had his hand twitching to put in his normal settings. Settings that he knew, in the back of his mind, he wasn't ready for. Fighting his pride, he picked a distance about midway down the range

As the computer system worked to set up his target, he pulled his gun from his holster. His eyes locked onto the cold piece of metal. The normal, almost second-hand feel of the gun, now felt wrong, and it had his mind wandering back into that darkness that he had been in since that night.

'No one blames you'. Captain Matthew's words hit him, and he had to stop himself from scoffing just like he had when she first said that to him, because she was wrong. Even if no one in the precinct blamed him for what happened, he did. He blamed himself.

It was his fault.

All his fault.

He could have stopped it.

Could have protected…

No. He yelled at himself.

He couldn't allow himself to fall back into that mind set again. He needed to get out of his head. There were more important things to do than throw himself a pity party. Like take down a ring of dirty cops.

He brought his gun up, aimed, and took a deep breath. He pulled the trigger and the shot echoed through the range, making his ears ring even with the protection.

Without a second glance, he knew he had missed.

He shot again. Missed. And again. Another miss.

Frustration crept up his spine with each shot.

It's going to take time John, you haven't fired your gun since you were shot. He could hear his therapist's voice in his head.

Fuck. He flicked the safety on his gun and called in the target. Even though he already knew his grouping was way off, and that he barely managed to hit the piece of paper at all, he couldn't help but be disappointed when he saw it up close.

"Statistically, most shootings take place under twelve feet."

Shaw froze as the oh so familiar voice of his once partner Tyler Burke came from behind him.

"I'm sure you'll manage to hit the target at that distance."

"I'll bear that in mind." He said hoping that it wasn't obvious that he was fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Jesus, John." Burke chuckled as he gestured down to his gun. "No wonder you can't hit anything."

"What's wrong with the Sig?"

"Forty Caliber."

"Hmm."

"Takes twelve rounds, right?"

"That's right."

"A cop's choice in guns says a lot about the cop." Burke said holding his gun out. "Give it a try."

Shaw didn't even really glance at the gun before he shook his head. "I'm good." He said as he sent his target back out.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Burke shuffle into the lane next to him before a second target was sent out. Shaw wasn't even a little surprised when Burke's target went the whole way down to the end of the range, far passed his own. Cocky asshole.

"You have no idea what you can do." Burke took a shot.

"Cut." Stephen called out stopping everything dead in their tracks. "Good job, take five."

Almost instantly, the tension in Dean's shoulders bled away. Sighing, he gave a roll of his neck and shuffled his feet to try to relax the rest of his body. If he would have known that he had to control his…movements, he would have never agreed to film a movie while on his medical leave. He cringed to think about how many takes he ruined on their first day of filming because he was fidgeting. He felt so bad and had almost suggested that they find someone else to play John Shaw, but Stephen just shook his head and told him that they would just find a way to work around his mannerisms.

Even so, Dean had worked hard to try and control the more obvious fidgets, something he was getting better at. Thankfully, his skin no longer felt like it was buzzing while he forced himself to not move, now he just felt uncomfortable.

As he worked out the tension from his fingers, something cold was pressed into his palm. "Hydrate don't die-drate."

With a raised brow, he looked down to see Angel standing there with a smile on her face. Any lingering stress in his body washed away at the sight. The way her face brightens, and her eyes swirl with emotion, it was enough to melt anyone. He almost wanted to thank her for showing it to him, especially after everything that happened.

"Thanks Darlin'." He smiled back as he took the water bottle that she was holding out to him. Opening it and bringing it to his mouth, he took a sip. As the cold water slid down the back of his throat, he realized just how parched he really was. He felt like he had just finished a match.

When he finally let himself breathe, he became acutely aware of the eyes lingering on him. Angel's eyes to be exact. Looking down, he saw her watching him, her eyes sparkling in the studio lights that were around them. "What?"

As if not realizing that she had been blatantly staring at him, she jumped, and a light blush quickly filled her cheeks.

Oh, now he was really curious. "What?" He asked again as he lent down into her space.

"N-nothing."

He raised a brow, calling her bluff, and she let out a sigh.

I win. He thought.

She glanced around them as the small blush grew until it took over her entire face. "You look really good, dressed like that." She said so quietly that he was sure he wouldn't have heard her if he hadn't been so close.

"That so?"

Drawing that fucking bottom lip of hers into her mouth, she looked up at him and nodded. He had to swallow to stifle the groan that was working its way up. She really hadn't learned her lesson about doing that. He made a mental note to teach her again.

"Shaw a good look on me?" He adjusted the way he was standing so that she could look her fill.

"Yeah, it is." She answered as her eyes darted around his body.

Raising his chin up, he chuckled. "Good to know."

"Places!" A loud voice echoed through the shooting range.

"Oh shit." Angel seemed to snap out of a daze. Quickly she snatched the mostly empty bottle out of his hands before running off the set and over to the corner that she had been taking up residence in.

Shaking his head at her, he glanced down so that he could get back onto his mark. That's when he heard the chuckle behind him. Looking back, he saw the man who played Officer Burke, Roger Cross, standing there.

"I got to say, I'm a little jealous." He smiled as his eyes flickered over to where Angel had just ran off to. "Where's my little manager who runs up to me with a water bottle and gives me goo-goo eyes?"

"If you ask her, Angel will a hundred percent make sure to bring you a water between takes too." Dean told him. "The goo-goo eyes are only for me though."

"Damn." He clicked his tongue. "I don't blame you for hoarding them for yourself. Those things are weapons. You could have her bend the world for you with them."

The two of them laughed as everyone on set quieted down and took their spots. "Alright," Stephen called. "Let's run back and start from Burke's line 'You have no idea what you can do'."

A.A.A.

Angel yawned from her spot, leaning against Dean's side, as they munched on the lunch that craft services brought in. She was scrolling through Twitter trying to catch up on everything they had missed at work while Dean was on his leave. Everything seemed normal. Just a bunch of matches and random promos. That was until her eyes landed on a video titled 'Dean Ambrose's eulogy' with a thumbnail of Seth dressed in all black standing in the ring with a large photo of Dean from back when his chin was busted. Blinking, she patted the very alive man next to her.

"Hey." She moved her phone so he could see what she was looking at. "Do you want to watch your eulogy?"

"My what now?" He questioned as he turned his attention towards her. "Oh? Yeah sure."

Just as she went to hit play, Roger sputtered across from them. "Did you just say something about his 'eulogy'?"

A look that was bordering both annoyance and pride filled Dean's face. "Part of being a wrestler is that you tend to 'die' a lot."

"That seems a little inconvenient."

"Yeah, it can be." Dean shrugged. "Though it's worth it when you suddenly come back alive and beat the shit out of the person who 'killed' you."

Roger laughed.

"You wanna watch?" Angel asked as she sat up and placed the phone on the table so all three of them could see it.

They all leaned forward as she pressed play.

Instantly Seth's music came from the speakers, and Seth appeared on stage dressed in the same suit from the thumbnail. As he walked down the ramp, Angel noted the almost saddened look on his face.

"So, that's the man who 'killed' you?"

"Yeah." Dean said through his clenched teeth. "That's Seth Rollins. Former teammate turned mortal enemy."

Roger eyes went wide as he glanced to Dean.

Angel quickly shook her head. "It's a wrestling thing."

"Ah." He turned his attention back to the phone. "A wrestling thing."

She couldn't help but chuckle at Roger's reaction. She never really had to explain wrestling to none wrestling fans. Though anyone might be a little thrown by the words 'mortal enemy'.

She turned her attention back to Seth to see he was now standing in front of a podium, still looking upset. In fact, the man looked like he was seconds away from crying, and a very small part of Angel thought that maybe, just maybe Seth felt genuinely bad for what he did. "I was the leader of the most dominant group in the history of WWE, The Shield."

As soon as he started to speak, any thoughts she had about him truly feeling bad, fluttered away.

"And there is a reason that I hand picked Dean Ambrose to be a member of the Shield." He looked over at the large photo of Dean. "Pain was never a factor for Dean, Fear was never a factor for Dean Ambrose. Dean Ambrose was a courageous fighter, but last week…" He took a deep breath. "I had to prove at his expense once again that the Authority always wins. And now with a heavy heart, I would like to take a look back at what happened in the match that YOU—that you, the WWE Universe, chose as a demise for Dean Ambrose."

The video cut away to the replay of what happened.

Not needing to see it again, Angel looked away. When her eyes found Roger, she cocked her head and watched him as his face told the story of what happened beautifully; confusion, horror, and disgust.

"Shit…So that's why you have to keep getting checked out every day."

"Yep." Dean nodded.

"How is that even allowed."

"It's in our contracts."

"Being allowed to smash someone's head in like that is in your contracts?!"

"Not exactly put like that, but yeah." Angel sighed. "We have to sign off on being alright with putting our body in serious harms way, which might include injuries that can end careers or cause permanent damage."

"You would have to be crazy to sign something like that."

Angel turned to look at Dean at the same time he looked at her. "Yeah." They both muttered before turning back to the phone.

Finally, the replay had finished, and it had gone back to the 'live' video. Once again Seth looked like he was on the verge of tears, but only for a second. His face twisted into a sick smile as he let out that grating laugh. The laugh that haunted her nightmares.

"Can you imagine, imagine the moment of impact when I crushed Dean Ambrose's skull, when I pulverized his head into those cinder blocks?"

I don't have to imagine it. She could still see the moment of impact when she closed her eyes.

"I wonder what was going through his mind. Do you think that it even dawned on Dean Ambrose that he was in way over his head? Do you think that it even dawned on him that he had been out matched, not only physically but mentally as well?"

"Outmatched?" Dean huffed. "You only beat me because of your not so little side kick."

Speaking of which, Seth slowly turned his head towards where Kane had been standing quietly the whole time. "You know it's no secret that those cinder blocks weren't out there by accident. You know what else? That headache that Dean Ambrose is going to have for the rest of his life, that's no accident either. And it saddens me that the casualty that has become of Dean Ambrose's career can now be summed up in two simple words. What if. What if Dean Ambrose had known his place. What if Dean Ambrose had recognized MY superiority? What if Dean Ambrose had simply walked away when he had the opportunity? The real tragedy in all of this is that we will never really know the answers to those what ifs, because as far as I'm concerned, it is highly likely that you will never see Dean Ambrose again."

The crowd booed.

"I am the one who created the Shield, and I am the one who has destroyed it."

Roger glanced up. "You were friends with this guy?"

"Teammate." Dean quickly answered. "We were teammates with him…" Roman's music suddenly erupted. "He is our friend." He said pointing to Roman as he appeared through the audience.

"That he is." Angel agreed.

They watched with smirks as Roman went right after both Seth and Kane without any hesitation.

"Fuck yeah, Ro."

"So, this is normal?" Roger asked as Roman chased Seth.

"It is." Angel told him. "Pretty much a nightly occurrence. Well not the eulogy thing but the rest of it, yeah."

"And here I thought working as an actor was crazy and unpredictable."

"Trust me some days I really wish this was only acting." She said as Roman hit Seth with the podium.

Dean made a face. "Who would watch 'fake' wrestling?"

"Keep the crazy storylines, and I would." She told him. "Sure, the real fights are great, but it would take away some of the worry, knowing that neither person is really trying to hurt the other." She almost sighed at the thought of Dean being in the ring with someone working with him to try and put on a great match without really hurting each other. Wouldn't that be something. "Also, everything being fake would mean that someone as crazy as Bray Wyatt wasn't really out there, doing who knows what."

Dean pursed his lips. "I still think the real shit is better."

"Oh, of course you would."

"Do I even want to know who the hell Bray Wyatt is?" Roger asked.
"A hillbilly cult leader who warships a woman named 'Sister Abigail'." Dean answered as if it was just a completely normal thing.

"Ah."

"It's a little complicated." She said when he turned to look at her.

"I see."

The video ended and Dean leaned back in the chair with a satisfied looking smirk on his face. "Remind me to call Ro and thank him for that."

D.D.D.

John sighed as he picked up yet another file from the large stack that sat on his desk. Desk duty was the worse thing for a guy like him. He wasn't a paperwork kind of guy. That's why he joined the force to begin with, he didn't want to sit behind a desk all day and look over boring files and whatnot. Jokes on me. That was half the job. But at least before he got shot, and watched his partner die, he was able to go out on calls and work assigned cases. Now, until the therapist, that he was forced to go to, said he was cleared, he was chained to his desk, helping others with their paperwork.

Tossing the file down, he grabbed his coffee mug in search of that much needed pick me up, only to groan when the thing was empty. Well at least a coffee run would get him away from his desk.

"Anyone for coffee?" He called out to the bullpen as he stood up. Not a single person even looked his way. "Ok."

Fuck me, I guess. He exhaled.

They don't hate you.

Everyone will be glad to have you back.

No one thinks it's your fault.

He couldn't help but run through all the lies that everyone told him to get him back in the saddle. Sure, he didn't believe those who told him that 'everything would be fine', were necessarily trying to lie to him, but it sure felt like it right now.

"Hey." A voice knocked him out of his head.

"Hey." He answered back automatically before realizing that someone actually talked to him. Double taking quickly, he realized that it was that rookie officer that he had met earlier today, what was her name? Taylor…Something Taylor.

Hoping that he wasn't coming off as a creep, he gave her a once over, trying to find her badge to confirm whether or not his memory was as faulty as the rest of him. Only to notice that she was carrying something in an evidence bag. "What you got there?"

"Oh uh, just came up from the county morgue, from Burke's bust. Easy to miss I guess, looks like a real credit-card, right?" She showed him the bag.

"Flash drive?"

"Yeah, anyways I got to get it into evidence. See ya."

As she walked away, Shaw frowned. He knew that the guy that Burke had busted was a dealer, but something felt off about a basic blue collar drug dealer having a flash drive like that. Though what the hell did he know? Maybe he was a little old fashioned or something? Maybe having discreet flash drives like that were the new normal thing?

Shaking his head, he set back on his mission to get some coffee. Which was easier said than done since the machine he normally used was out of order. However, when he finally got back to his desk with a new warm cup of joe in his hand, he tried to get back on task, but his mind kept running back to the flash drive, and to Burke's bust in general. Something felt off…He just knew it.

Let's face it you were never afraid to break a few rules

Whatever it takes

Something is wrong.

Fuck it. He sighed as he quickly pulled up the incident report from the bust, thinking that maybe he could get his mind back to work if he just read the report and saw that there was nothing fishy about it.

In response to information received by Detective Burke regarding the whereabouts of suspect George Freemont relating to an ongoing narcotics investigation, a search warrant was executed at the residence of his last known whereabouts. During the course of the warrant's execution Detective Burke and his team came under fire from suspect George Freemont as he attempted to flee the scene. An exchange of fire resulted in the death of George Freemont.

The summary seemed straightforward with nothing noteworthy that would state that something against code went down. But as he read through Burke's retelling and looked over the pictures, something wasn't adding up.

Leaning back in his chair, he grabbed the rubber-band ball that had at some point become his favorite fidget toy to use when he really needed to concentrate. As his fingers ran over the familiar bands that were all weaved together, he could feel his mind start to declutter itself.

Taking a deep breath, he looked over everything, trying to find that one piece of something that would give him a lead. Just like he would any normal case.

In the report, Burke stated that Freemont was attempting to flee the house, while shooting at them, which was why Burke returned fire. However, in the photo of the body, Freemont was seen slumped over in a chair. And sure, he could have fallen into the chair after being shot, but what were the odds that while running, he would have fallen just right to land in the chair so perfectly. No, to him at least, it looked more like he had been sitting in the chair before getting shot.

Whatever it takes.

You're over thinking this, Shaw. He told himself, even as his gut screamed at him, that he wasn't. That something was wrong. Something wasn't adding up.

The flash drive.

Shaw almost jumped out of his seat.

Easy. You have no idea what's on that flash drive. Could be the man's tax info for all you know. He was sure that if his therapist could hear how he was talking to himself, she would have rethought her choice of clearing him to return to work. But that didn't stop him from feeling just a little giddy that there was a chance, a small one sure, but a chance that he was going to be able to finally get evidence that Burke is a dirty cop.

"Cut!" Stephen called clapping his hand. "That was much better Dean! Much better."

"Thanks." He tried to hide the smile on his face. "The rubber-band ball really helped."

"Good. Alright let's get set up for the scene where Shaw finds the evidence on the flash drive."

Dean watched as the crew ran around, getting everything put into place for the scene change. They quickly moved around the lights to show the passing of time, made sure that all the extras were in their places, while the ladies from the makeup and hair department ran around checking on everyone, before stopping to give him a once over. Every time they had to come 'fix' either his hair or the makeup he was wearing, he felt bad. Especially this time as he was sure he had ran his fingers through his hair at least once in the million takes that they had to do due to his fidgeting.

"Sorry." He mumbled.

"It's what we're here for."

Trying to patiently stand still as they worked to push his hair back into place, he turned his attention to Angel, who was chatting to a member of the crew. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but she seemed excited about whatever it entailed. He couldn't help but smirk.

As if she sensed that he was looking at her, Angel glanced over at him, smiling as she nodded to whatever the other person was saying.

For whatever reason, not one that he could pinpoint, a spike of jealousy went through him as he watched her try to focus back on the other person. He knew that they could be talking about something important, but he didn't care. At this moment all he wanted was her attention on him. In the back of his mind he new it was irrational, and probably had something to do with the fact that between his restrictions due to his injuries and the filming schedule, they hadn't had much ability to be intimate. Something that he was down determined to remedy as soon as possible.

With that goal in mind, Dean waited and watched until Angel's eyes flickered back to him again. Once he knew he had her attention, he adjusted the way he was standing, tilted his head up and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, all while resting his hand on his belt right next to his crotch.

He knew she understood the look he was giving her as her face turned bright red and her eyes shot down to the floor. Before he could set out to tease her anymore, he was basically pushed back down in 'his' chair and the evidence bag with the flash drive handed to him.

"Alright Dean." Stephen stepped up to him. "In this scene, Shaw is finally finding that evidence he needed to prove that Burke is a dirty cop." He explained. "We need to really play up the fact that this has been a long time coming, and that he's finally getting what he's been waiting for. Ok? You think you can do that?"

Dean looked from Stephen to Angel and back. "Yeah, I can do that."

A.A.A.

Angel panted as she tried to pull her head up from the wet mess of tears and drool that covered the pillow under her. A feat which was easier said than done, seeing that her body was at the mercy of the two hundred- and twenty-five-pound man who was currently seated between her thighs. One hand gripping hard onto her hip, using it to pull her back against him and the other had a hold on the cuffs that were currently keeping her hands behind her back.

Taking pity on her, the hand on her hip moved to help her hold up her head. She felt his fingers running over her swollen, red lips, smearing the drool that collected at the corner of her mouth.

"Oh, look at you." Dean moaned. "If I had known…that you would've gotten… this worked up, I would have pulled out the… handcuffs a lot sooner." He said between grunts and groans. "You could have your pick…between the soft fuzzy pair, and the very real, metal ones that I ah…found."

There was a very small part of her pleasure-clouded mind that wanted to call Dean out for 'finding' real handcuffs, but the only sound she could make was a small mew like noise, as Dean dipped his thumb into her open mouth. She must have been farther gone than she realized as she quickly closed her mouth and suckled on him without hesitation.

"Fuck." Dean hissed as his hips buckled wildly against her, making her cry out around his thumb. "Darlin' you're starting to make me wonder about all those…undiscovered kinks that you have hidden in that brain of yours." He pressed his thumb against her tongue. "Might have to pull some toys out of storage for you."

She shivered at the promise.

"You like that?" Dean asked as he pulled her back against him until she was sitting on his lap. The change in position made her gasp as he suddenly hit a spot so deep inside of her that she could have sworn that she felt him inside of her stomach. "You like the idea of me taking you apart bit by bit until I know all your little dark fantasies, even the ones you don't know of yet."

"Dean."

His name was the only thing she was able to get out as his want filled voice and warm breath tickling at her ear, as well as the new angle that he was pounding into her sent her farther still into that clouded headspace.

She was so far gone that she almost couldn't feel the rough lips on the back of her neck. "You mean, Officer Ambrose, right darlin'?" He said gave a little yank on the cuffs as if to remind her, as if she wasn't slightly fixated on the slight ache that was blooming around her wrists.

She wanted to say as much but her voice came out as a jumbled whine. The hand on her jaw gentle rubbed and soothed her warm cheeks. "Easy baby, I got you." He shushed her.

…

Of course, the night after Dean has fucked her into oblivion leaving her with bite marks and bruises down her throat, and deep red rings around her wrists, that would be the night that Stephen would come up to her and ask her if she would like to have a cameo in the movie.

Apparently, they thought it would be cute if Angel showed up at the end of the movie as Shaw's worried wife. And how could she say no to that? She couldn't, which was why she now found herself sitting in the makeup trailer while lead makeup artist Bev Wright tried to cover up everything the best she could.

And bless that woman's heart, because not only was she doing a good job, she was also trying to 'save' Angel's dignity by pretending she didn't know that she had just been railed into next week, while being handcuffed.

Feeling bad for making her life harder, and wanting to make things less awkward, Angel let it slip that 'this' was a normal thing for her, that she has spent many a night in the makeup chair before shows to cover up Dean's handiwork. She wasn't sure if that really helped relieve the awkwardness she was feeling, but it certainly helped relieve the tension between the two of them, it also opened her up to questions and teasing.

"Is it always this bad?"

"Uh?" Angel looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes ran over the remaining marks that had yet to be covered. "Not always, though it is pretty bad often enough, that I heard the makeup girls say that we should launch some merch that says, 'caution this lunatic bites.'"

Bev laughed. "That's a good one."

Almost an hour and a half later, the marks had been covered enough that they wouldn't be that noticeable on camera. Angel would be lying if she said she was only a little embarrassed that most of that time was spent on her wrists.

When they finally moved on to doing her 'actual' makeup, the trailer's door opened, and a voice called through. "Checking what the ETA is for when Angel is going to be ready?"

"About ten minutes." Bev called back. "And tell Stephen that if he has a problem with that, he can come talked to me about it."

Angel felt the rush of guilt wash over her as she heard the door shut. She knew she had to be holding up filming, and on a film set, time is money, literally. Something on her face must have given away how guilty she felt, because Bev reached out and touched her shoulder.

"There's no need for that."

"But I've wasted so much time. We could have finished shooting the scene by now."

"Yeah probably." She nodded. "But it wasn't like you knew you would be on camera today. If anything, this is Stephen's fault for not giving you a heads up."

"But."

"Nope. No buts." Bev smiled sweetly. "Now, let's get you all finished and ready to be a star."

Angel laughed. "It's just a cameo at the end of the film."

"One that everyone's going to be talking about."

D.D.D.

Groaning and limping, Shaw stepped out of the building and into the cool of the night. The flashing lights of all the different police cars played havoc on his pounding head, and each step he took sent ripples of pain through his body. Keeping his head held high, he walked pass the baffled crowd of others who had gathered around curious to know what had happened.

He made it about four steps into the station's parking lot, when it was like someone found an off switch for his body and flicked it, stopping him dead.

Staring out into the darkness of the night, a bout of total anguish washed over Shaw as his mind suddenly registered everything that happened. His breath hitched in his throat as the images flashed in his mind. Gagging, he tried to bring his hands up to cover his mouth to stop himself from being sick, but he couldn't get his arms to move from where they hung loose and shaking by his side.

His body was going into shock. At least that's what the voice in his head was telling him. Which meant that he was aware enough that he could recognize the signs and remember all the training that he had, when it came to dealing with someone going into shock. The only problem was the first step was to get medical help. Something that was easier said than done since he was the one going into shock.

"John!" A voice suddenly cut through the fog in his mind as something slammed into him, knocking him back a bit. "Oh god, John."

He felt the warmth against his cold body, and he couldn't help but lean into it, as whatever threw itself at him snuggled into his stomach, sparking pain through his entire body. But instead of pulling away, he pressed harder into it, knowing that it was better for him to feel the pain instead of the cold numbness that was threatening to take over him.

He didn't know how long he just stood there enjoying the familiarity of the warm embrace, when his mind seemed to kick back in and allowed him to look down at what was holding him. His eyes ran over long brown hair and a small shaking form. "Cass?"

"I'm here." The voice was wobbly and muffled, but he could still recognize it instantly, it belonged to his wife Cassie.

Oh god. His knees almost gave out as his mind came to grasp with just how close he came to never seeing her again, never holding her again, never hearing her voice again.

"…I was so scared." A heart wrenching sob brought him back to the present. "Your radio at home was going crazy about the station going into lockdown… And when I turned on the news to see what was happening…they said that there was a rogue cop shooting up the station… they didn't say who it was… I tried to call you, but it went straight to voicemail…"

He tightened his hold on her and ran his face through her hair, but instead of having the calming, comforting effect that he was going for, she became tense and quiet. When she tried to move away, Shaw impulsively tried to drag her back.

"John wait!" Cass panicked. "You're bleeding!"

"Oh?" He mumbled. "That's probably because I was shot."

"You were…" She swayed in his arms before looking franticly around. "We need help over here! We need a medic!"

"Cut!" Stephen called.

Dean chuckled as he felt Angel relax in his arms. "You good?"

"Yeah." She breathed. "I think I blacked out there for a second."

"Happens."

"Alright." Stephen walked up to them. "That was good this time, really good. We're going to move on to the drone shots. Starting back at mark one, we're going to run through the whole thing. Don't worry too much about the dialogue this time since we're really just trying to capture the motions, but if it helps don't be scared to say your lines."

"Sounds good." Dean said giving Angel's arm a squeeze as they separated.

"Oh!" Angel looked back at him. "I wanted to ask, did I hit into you too hard? I felt like I really slammed into you this time."

"Barely felt it." He chuckled. "Like being hit by a leaf."

She rolled her eyes. "Sure."

"Nah, I'm serious."

"Alright then, this time I'll make sure to really knock you on your ass."

"Good luck with that one." He stuck his tongue out at her, only to laugh when she returned the gesture.

"Places!"

A.A.A.

"FREEDOM!" Dean yelled as he slammed a piece of paper on the table in front of her. "Fucking finally."

Glancing around at the cast and crew who were just trying to get everything ready to start tonight's scenes, Angel mumbled out a sorry before turning to look at what Dean was annoyingly tapping his fingers on.

"Read it and weep." He smirked.

Leaning over the paper, she read through the first couple of lines, only to stop on the words 'Dean Ambrose has been medically cleared'. "You've been cleared?"

"Yep." He looked proud.

"A hundred percent?"

"One hundred percent, Baby. The medics said they would even call into work and let them know that when we're done filming, I'm allowed to come back full force."

Relief hit her as she smiled at him. "That's good!"

"And you and Roman said I wouldn't be able to take it easy, and would end up on medical leave for longer than they estimated, because I hurt myself again."

"Dean, I love you, but you don't know what the words 'take it easy' mean."

"In my world that's a good thing."

"Not all the time." She shook her head. "You need to rest as well, or you're going to be retiring due to your body shutting down at the age of thirty."

Dean inhaled dramatically, "I have at least until I'm thirty-five."

"I'm not sure about that. Not at the rate you're going."

"Probably right." He shrugged.

"Dean! You're needed in hair and makeup." A crew member called.

"Right. I'm coming." He called back. He then took a hesitated step away from the table, which made Angel cock her head. Before she could even ask if everything was fine, he turned back towards her, looked her in the eyes and smiled. "I love you too." He winked.

Angel's heart fluttered as she watched Dean walk off. It had been weeks since he first said that he loved her, and yet she still couldn't get used to hearing those words out of his mouth. It made her feel giddy, especially because now whenever she said she loves him, he never failed to say that he loves her back. It was cute.

After getting her heart to settle down, she grabbed the medical slip that Dean left behind and gave it a thorough read, making sure there weren't any little hidden details that he was trying to get away with. Because as much as she did love him, he was a little shit sometimes. Surprisingly, everything seemed on the up and up. Dean was medically cleared. He only had to do one more checkup in two weeks just to make sure.

This was a lot sooner than she expected him to be cleared. They gave a rough estimated time of one to three months out of 'action', and she had thought they were going to be looking at closer to the three months. Who wouldn't, when thinking about an injury caused by getting their head stomped into cinderblocks. But of course, leave it to Dean to somehow magically heal faster than probably anyone would have thought.

Sighing, Angel leaned back in her seat. The biggest problem with him being released early was that the man was going to be a colossal pain until he was able to get back into the ring and work out the energy that had been building in him since he got hurt. He had already been wanting to do all his own stunts even though the director, producer, and medical staff all said no for two reasons. One being that he wasn't cleared, the other being that they didn't want to risk him getting even more injured, because then the WWE could hold them liable. And now that it was only one reason, it was bound to get worse.

And she was right.

It was towards the end of their night, and they were now filming the fight scene on the top of the roof, in which Shaw dropkicks the guy he's fighting. Something that they didn't think would be an issue, until they realized it was hard to hide the fact that Dean wasn't really the one doing the move.

"Come on!"

"Dean." Angel sighed for what felt like the hundredth time as they set up for the shot again.

"What?" He almost whined. "I can do it. I'm cleared."

"That's not the point." She told him. "It's in the contract…."

"Fuck the contract." He huffed. "If they think I can't do a dropkick safely, when it's one of my signature moves, then everyone can go fuck themselves."

"Dean." Her eyes widened as she spun around to face him. "They already told you no."

Angel had to roll her eyes as the twenty-eight-year-old man pouted. "I know but I bet you I could get it on the first take."

"Uh huh."

"Quiet on set."

Giving Dean a hard look, she turned back around to watch the scene play out in front of her. There was a part of her that prayed that that this was the take, just so Dean would stop complaining about it, but luck wasn't on her side as the move went wrong and only one foot 'connected'.

"Cut." Stephen called sounding annoyed.

"Maybe we should change moves."

"Or maybe we can let the professional do the move." She heard Dean mutter behind her, and she groaned.

As much as she wanted to turn around and tell him to stop whining about not being able to do the move, she knew he had a point. They wanted Shaw to do a dropkick, and Dean who just happened to play Shaw was more than capable of doing the move. And beautifully she might add.

Her eyes ran over to where the stunt coordinator was talking to both Stephen and Michael Luisi the producer. Fuck me. Taking a deep breath, she didn't let herself second guess what she was about to do.

"Dean can do it!" She said loud enough to make everyone on set look at her. A chill went down her body as she met eyes with Stephen. It didn't take the fact that she had a BA in Cinema Production to know that she shouldn't have interrupted their 'meeting', but what was done was done. Swallowing the lump in her throat she repeated herself. "The dropkick, Dean can do it."

Stephen took a second longer than she wanted him to, to answer her. "Angel, I know you're just trying to help, but as I told him…"

"I know." She cringed at herself for speaking over him. "But he's trained to do this, and he's been fully cleared."

Micheal stepped forward. "And we get that, but the contract with WWE clearly states that Dean is not allowed to do anything deemed a dangerous stunt in fear that he might get hurt again."

"Again, I know." She said. "But I would argue that because of his training, and the fact that he performs this exact move on a regular while in the ring, that the stunt is no more dangerous than all the choreographed fights that he's already been in."

She could see the hesitation in everyone's eyes as they processed what she said. Stephen shook his head. "Sure. But when he performs the move in the ring he lands on soft padding."

Dean snorted.

"I wouldn't say it soft." She explained.

"A wrestling ring is made up of a steel frame that holds up a bunch of wood planks, and a very thin pad that is just there so we're not just slamming ourselves against straight wood." Dean stepped up next to her.

"Not to mention I've seen him do the move onto concrete."

Another look.

"We could drag one of the pads from the drill hall up and let him land on that." Stephen suggests turning towards Micheal.

Micheal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as if just the conversation was giving him a headache. Something Angel knew could be very much true, since she too had to deal with contracts and whatnot. "Fine."

"Yes!" Dean exclaimed.

It took all of ten minutes for the crew members to go down and grab a couple of mats from the drill hall and drag them all the way back up to the roof. After setting them in the spot that they wanted Dean to fall on, they had him work through the choreography a few times until it was just right.

"Places!" Stephen called. Once the set was quieted down and Dean was in his spot, he nodded towards camera to start rolling.

"Action!"

Dean squared up with Daniel Gudmore who was playing Gideon, aka the big bastard of Burke's crew. Daniel swung at him a couple of times while Dean blocked, before he reached out and grabbed Daniel around the neck and pulled him in before 'kneeing' him in the gut, setting him up for the big move. Still holding him around the neck, Dean launched himself up into the air. The dropkick didn't have the same power as it normally did, seeing that the goal wasn't to really send the other guy flying, but it still looked good. And apparently, she wasn't the only one who thought so because when she looked up to see what Stephen's reaction was going to be, he was smiling.

"Cut!" He called. "Are you good, Dean."

"Never better." He grunted as he shot up from the mat under him. "Could do that all day."

"How about just once more, so we can get a shot from the back."

"You're the boss." He said smiling ear to ear with his tongue out.

Lifewithcathair: He did finally admit that he loves her! It only took this long. Lol Do i have an end goal...I want to make it through Dean's WWE career, but I don't know if that is possible.

Katmoonchild: Dean did say it and he knows about Eva but that doesn't mean that Eva is done, just FYI

BrookeWorm3: Eva might get it...Also Sorry I haven't posted wife has been crazy! Lol

Samcoo 12: AW thank you! I kind of hate the way I write. I hope the movie lived up to what you thought it would.

Katara Melody Cullen: Angel was in shock. Roman thought he was too out of it to just walk away, but yeah they should have seen it coming. I'm so glad it was worth the wait!.

Missdeanambrose: Here is more. Sorry for the wait.

Sonia: He did finally say it. Sorry about the wait for this chapter.

. : I don't know if you made it this far, but thank you for the reviews. I do have to edit it. Sometimes I panic post and forget to check things. By sometimes I mean all the time.

Laura2492: Thank you for the review and I hope I didn't leave you hanging too long. Sorry about the wait.