Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Been dealing with a minor case of writer's block and work being absolutely insane for the last couple of months. I'm hoping that when it slows down in a few weeks that I'll be able to update more frequently.

It was fairly common knowledge that Dean had a horrible childhood. He had used promo's as a form of therapy when he was younger and spilled a lot of things he had gone through to the world. So everyone with access to the internet knew that his mother was a train wreck who made bad decisions in every aspect of her life. They knew that she was an alcoholic and a junkie who cared more about her next fix than her son. The universe had heard all about how he had to walk past the street corner she worked on everyday and try not to throw up.

They hadn't heard everything though.

Especially when it came to the jackasses she dated. Most, if not all of them, had been abusive assholes who had no problem knocking his mother around right in front of him. It had gone on and on until he was strong enough to do something about it. Even though she never appreciated him stepping in to stop it, it had made him detest men who raised their hands to women. Made him want to torture them then slowly kill them so they could have an idea of what it was like for their victims.

Yeah, as Jon Moxley he had put his hands on women. The thing was that was only for the cameras, a part of the whole scumbag heel persona that he was working. That was where it stayed. Off camera, while he admittedly sucked as a boyfriend, he wouldn't hit a woman. No matter how bad one tried to press his buttons or whatever vile thing was screamed at him, he'd hurt himself before he hurt them if he couldn't just walk away.

Hearing that Corey had beaten Paige so severely that she was in the hospital made his blood boil. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every angered breath he sucked in between clenched teeth and his hands curled into tight balls as he struggled to keep his temper in control.

"Dean, you alright?" The cautious question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Just tell me where Corey lives Sami." Dean insisted, part of his mind searching through the most violent aspects of his history to find the perfect one to inflict on Corey and the other part focusing on getting the information that he needed to make them a sweet, bloody reality. "Cause I really need to know. This needs to be dealt with right away."

"I'm sorry." The red haired man swallowed, holding up his hands helplessly. "But I can't tell you that."

"Come on Sami, don't play this game with me. Where does the prick live?" He gritted out between clenched teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously and twitching uncontrollably. It was painfully obvious the other man was nervous and really reluctant to give up the information. Probably because he knew what was going to happen to Corey once he couldn't hide anymore. "I ain't asking you for nothing but an address. You don't gotta be involved anymore than that."

"I d-d-don't know." Sami stammered, scooting as far away from the irate man as he could, his sense of self preservation most likely telling him that this was the best course of action he could take.

But the dirty blonde shadowed his movements, his hands balled into fists that were clenched so tightly that it turned his knuckles pure white. "You can tell me man. Don't worry, ain't planning on there bein' a lot of talkin' when him and I cross paths so he won't know you gave it up."

"This isn't a situation were I'm not telling you because I don't want to." The older man explained, his tone more confident and less shaky. "I'm not telling you because I really don't have any idea where he lives."

"Then you know someone on the roster who does." Hands reached out and grasped the shirt of the other man, a vicious, unnerving twisted smirk on his lips and blue eyes that shone with murderous intent settled on him. "I'm sure all you gotta do is make a couple of calls and it'd be in your hand in a heartbeat."

Sami gulped, nervously twisting out of the grip. "I'm not friend's with Corey. Never have been and never would be. We're two very different type of people. I don't hang out with anyone he associates with, which are mostly people who are not on the roster. So I don't know where he lives or have any of his friends' numbers to find that out."

"You lying to me Zayn?"

"Dean, you've known me a long time." The red haired man took a deep breath, trying to reason with him. "You know the type of person that I am and that I don't like to lie so I try to avoid doing it. Especially when it comes to people that I consider my friends."

He ran his hands roughly over his face, nodding slightly and stepping back. "Yeah, I know. Sorry for getting in your face. I just need to find that asshole and drive my fist into his face until I feel the bones crack and hear the blood squelching beneath…"

"I know you want vengeance and even though I don't condone it, I can't blame you for feeling like that." Sami cut him off quickly, looking a little green after hearing that. "But even if you find out where he lives, it won't do you any good. Corey knows that cops are looking for him so they can arrest him. He's not going to go back there and risk that happening."

"I was kinda hoping he'd be dumb enough to show up there soon. If not tonight then sometime tomorrow at the latest." He sighed, "Figured I'd wait him out and be his own personal welcome wagon."

"I just want to say this then I won't bring it up again." The older man studied him intently, gaze never wavering. "I already told you that I understand why you want to get your hands on him. I really do. But what happens if or when you get that opportunity? You think the cops will understand and because of that, they won't arrest you too?"

All Dean could do was shrug in response. "They'll do what they gotta do."

"I know you really don't care about things like that but think about Paige. She's going to need you man and you won't be any help to her if you get yourself locked up."

"I don't think it'd bother her too much."

His face scrunched in confusion, "Why wouldn't it bother her if her husband was in jail when she was lying in a hospital bed?"

"It's a really long, fucked up story…"

Their conversation came to a halt as the doors opened and a women entered the room in a long white jacket and blue scrubs, stopping a few feet away from them. "Mr. Ambrose, I'm Doctor Ryland. If you'd like to follow me to my office, we can discuss your wife's condition."

"Alright." He gave Sami a long hard look. "I know you're trying to look out for me man and I appreciate the gesture but if you hear anything through the grapevine, I need you to let me know."

"I will."

Dean let out a breath, nodded and followed the doctor out of the waiting room. They walked down a long hall and into a claustrophobic office that he could probably stretch his arms out and touch both walls at the same time. But he pushed aside the anxiety that caused and took a seat in the chair, leg bouncing nervously. "How's Paige doing? I know she's in recovery right now, so that's a good thing. Right?"

"As you know from our conversation over the phone, your wife's injuries were serious enough to require immediate surgery." Doctor Ryland informed him flatly. "Also as we spoke about on the phone, I did run a pregnancy test to make sure that we were safe to operate before we proceeded and it came back negative."

It was a relief to hear that but he didn't dwell on it. There'd be plenty of time later for him to acknowledge what that meant for future of their so called marriage. Right now, there were more important things to get to the bottom of. He leaned forward, a narrow gaze on the woman holding the answers he needed. "What kind of surgery was it? Did it go well?"

"The surgery we performed is a relatively routine one to stop internal bleeding. We managed to get to the affected area in time to avoid exacerbating the situation but needed the consent in case we found ourselves in a situation where we were dealing with a ruptured spleen. It's being monitored to ensure that it will no longer an issue to be concerned about." She paused, looking at him long and hard. "But there's another injury that still needs to be addressed."

He blinked in confusion. "What kind of injury?"

"While we were conducting our preliminary examination, we noticed some irregular swelling in Miss Knight's neck and used a portable device to perform a basic X-ray. The results show that it's highly probable that during the altercation, Ms. Knight sustained a cervical fracture." Doctor Ryland informed him gravely.

"A cervical fracture?" His mouth twisted in a frown, "That sounds familiar but I can't think of what it is."

"It's more commonly referred to as a broken neck."

Everything in his body went cold at those words. Fuck. That wasn't something he had been expecting to hear. Weary, he slouched in the chair and gaped at her in distress. "A broken neck? What does that mean? Is she going to be paralyzed?"

"From what the initial X-ray showed, there are no bone fragments pressing against the spinal cord or otherwise impairing it at this time." She informed him in that perfectly vague doctor tone. "Which is an encouraging sign."

"That really wasn't an answer."

"That's all the answer I have until Ms. Knight is awake."

"She's still not awake?" That made him sit up straight and his expression gave away his fear of what that meant. "Why not? Is she in a coma?"

"Calm down Mr. Ambrose." Her tone was slightly softer and slightly more gentle than before but no less commanding. "In cases like these where the patient suffered substantial trauma, we employ a tactic of keeping them sedated to avoid any possible situation that may cause further damage to occur."

"Ok," He let out a relieved breath. "So what happens now?"

"We have Ms. Knight's neck stabilized in a semi-rigid collar that limit's the side to side and also the up and down movement of the neck and head as a precaution. Once we've brought her out of sedation and informed her of the circumstances, we'll take a more in-depth C-spine X-ray and an MRI to confirm the injury and get a clearer picture of what we're dealing with. After that we'll perform a series of sensation and motion tests to determine the extent of the damage."

"Is there any chance that what you saw on the X-ray could be wrong?" He mentally cringed from the pleading tone of his voice. "Like maybe it was just a shadow or something else affecting it."

"Highly unlikely." She held his gaze. "There were three very distinctive lines that indicate fractures on two vertebrae's."

Dean swallowed thickly, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. Fuck. There went any hope he had that he harbored that it might be wrong. "So once the tests confirm that she's got a broken neck, what happens then?"

"Due to the nature of the injury and her career, we'll contact the top orthopedic surgeon in the city that specializes in dealing with athletes. He'll review our findings, come up with a course of action that he'll explain to Ms. Knight and you." Her tone was supposed to be reassuring but it wasn't. "Rest Assured that Dr. Matthews is one of the best there is and has performed this similar operations numerous times with outstanding success."

"I guess that's something."

She gave him a small smile, "I understand that this is a difficult time. This must be a lot for you to process right now which is why I wanted to give you time to come to terms with it before we bring your wife out of sedation. Ms. Knight will be upset and confused about everything that transpired and what we've found. She'll need you to help her through this ordeal and with accepting the diagnosis."

Once again, he found himself in a situation that he wasn't comfortable dealing with. Their marriage wasn't real after all. Hell they barely knew one another. He didn't have a right to make decisions for her or to know anything more than what she'd tell him, which would probably be nothing at all. Despite knowing that, he'd already been forced to make choices that affect her life once today.

Luckily, it worked out and he wasn't being put in a situation where he had to do it again.

But this was still a highly uncomfortable situation he found himself in. He was being informed about things that would force her to have to make a decision that would definitely be a gamble with her career. That wasn't something that he had a say in. What she did with her life or career was entirely up to her. It wasn't his business and he had no right to tell her what she should do or how she should deal with it.

He was pretty sure that once she was awake and alert that she wouldn't want him around, much less need him for support. She'd probably be pissed that they even contacted him. Not to mention how angry she'd be when she realized that he had consented to something that affected her. Too bad knowing that didn't stop him from asking more questions about the situation and digging himself in deeper. "Is surgery the only option or are there other courses of treatment to consider?"

Doctor Ryland shook her head, "The surgery is necessary. This is not an injury that will heal without it and it will continue to decline the longer it goes without being corrected. If left as is the risk of nerve damage, loss of sensation and paralysis all increase significantly."

Damn it. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Defeated and deflated, he asked the question that was haunting his mind. "I mean, is she even strong enough to do this right now? Considering everything that happened?"

"We'll want to allow time for her to heal from the surgery she had today before proceeding with another one. But the sooner we address this issue, the better her odds are for a full recovery."

"How long of a wait before she can have the surgery are we talking about?"

"A week at least." Doctor Ryland confirmed. "After that, she'll be medically able to have the surgery and we'll move on from there."

"A week?" Dean huffed a bitter laugh. "Isn't that pushing it? Do you really think she'll be able to come to grips with the fact that her ex-boyfriend beat the hell out of her, that she had undergo emergency surgery and that she's still facing a surgery that could end her career in only a week?"

"No, I don't." The doctor admitted. "A woman who was a victim of this type of assault, that suffers the severity of the injuries that she has and the emotional impact of it will need a lot of support from people she cares about and most likely, long term counseling to deal with the emotional trauma. It could be years before she's mentally capable of dealing with it. But unfortunately, as I said, time is not something that is conducive to the kind of neck injury she sustained so we need to concentrate on when she is physically able to handle it."

He closed his eyes and mentally started counting to twenty in a weak attempt to calm himself down. His mind refused to allow it though. Two questions swirling through his head on a continuous loop.

Why did he come here?

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

This whole situation was way out of his league. There was many roles he was capable of playing in someone's life but not this one. Playing the role of the supportive, comforting, logical person was not something he was accustomed to. He lacked the ability to filter the things that came out of his mouth, no matter how brutally honest they were. Anything he said would inevitably just end up distressing Paige even more than she already would be.

The best thing for both of them would be for him to leave the hospital, drive back to the airport and get on the next plane bound for Vegas. Don't look back. Go to wherever the hell he had to go to file papers for an annulment or divorce. Pretend that none of this ever happened. Get his life back on track and do whatever he had to in order to prove to the WWE that they could trust him not to make reckless choices.

But he couldn't.

Not when it was his fault that Paige was lying in that hospital bed.

He set his sights on her when he heard about the break-up. Forced her to change her plan of going home after Comic Con to stay in Vegas with them. Played games to get under her skin, pushing her buttons. Flirted and plotted to get what he wanted. Drank too much to stop himself from doing something stupid.

If none of those things happened, they wouldn't be in this situation.

So he owed it to her to stay until she told him to fuck off.

Dean took a deep breath and roughly rubbed his hands over his face. He met the doctor's questioning gaze, determination clear on his face. "So what's the plan?"

"Tomorrow morning we'll stop the medication we're giving Ms. Knight that's keeping her sedated. Once it's out of her system, she'll wake up on her own. When she's alert and coherent enough then we'll inform her of the situation."