Part IV

(The conclusion)

"Holy shit!"

It was Seth's voice that pulled Dean back into reality, made him realize he was in the rental car with his Shield brothers, heading for the next gig. "What?" he said, and his voice sounded strange to his own ears, as if there was something caught in his throat.

"You didn't murder her dog!" Seth exclaimed. "You didn't even really kill the dog, if you want to get technical. The most you did, the most you might have done, was put the poor thing out of his misery!"

"I never said I murdered the dog, I never even said I killed him," Dean reminded him. "All I said was that I shot the dog and I did shoot the dog. Whether he was alive or dead when I shot him, doesn't matter, I shot her dog."

"But-but," Seth sputtered, "You know when you say something like that, everyone is going to assume the worst!"

"Not my problem," Dean said, looking out the right hand window, pretending he was fascinated by the scenery passing them by. "You and Roman asked me what was the craziest thing I ever did for a girl and I told you. I shot her dog. Details or not, I think that's pretty crazy."

"But you never told her!" Seth protested. He was sneaking looks into the rear view mirror every few seconds, trying to look at him. She thinks you straight up murdered her dog because he was annoying her."

"Yes," Dean agreed, finding the calm he needed from deep inside of him. "I had to. I told you Cinnamon's parents died in a car accident, right?" he didn't wait for an answer, already knowing, but continued, "What I didn't tell you was that she was driving the car at the time. She and her parents had taken a road trip and she had her learner's permit. They thought this would be a good way for her to get some highway experience, so they were letting her drive."

"Oh," Roman said. "Was-was..." he let his voice trail off, not wanting to ask the question that was on his mind.

"-Was she at fault?" Dean supplied, knowing that was what he would ask. "No. She wasn't even questioned, too many witnesses saw the accident, so by the time she got out of the hospital, the case was closed. There was a semi on the other side of the highway and the brakes went out. It crashed through the guard rail, then flipped over. I guess this was on a pretty steep incline because the truck must have had some serious speed behind it. But the truck flipped, and crashed into their car. Somehow, she survived with nothing but a few broken bones and a concussion. But her folks didn't. They died. And even though it wasn't her fault, you tell me, guys, if you were sixteen and only driving with a permit, wouldn't you still feel guilty? Even if everyone told you over and over again that it wasn't your fault, that you were not to blame, wouldn't you still feel there was something you could have done?"

"Yeah," Seth admitted, glancing at him through the rear view mirror. "Maybe if I had been going slower, or faster, or maybe if I wasn't driving. I'm not experienced driving, maybe if someone else had, they would have known what to do. Yeah, that's exactly how I would feel, like deep down, it was my fault."

"And that's how Cinnamon felt. She didn't say it, because everyone always told her she wasn't at fault, blah blah blah, but I knew she felt responsible, just because she had been driving. How do you think she would have handled it to know that while it wasn't deliberate, she did leave those chicken bones out where Rocky could find them?" Instead of waiting for either one of them to answer, he looked up, meeting Seth's eyes in the mirror. "So, anyone got anything crazier that they've done?"

"No!" Seth said quickly. "You win."

"Did you ever see her again?" Roman asked, his voice soft with that soothing quality that Dean liked.

"I wish I were a little kid, so you could tell me a bed time story," Dean said, wistfully, "With that voice of yours, I'd be asleep before the 'happily ever after' part. But, to answer your question, no, I never saw her again. I don't know what she did with her life after me. I do know she never came to any of my matches ever again. I don't know if I soured her on wrestling in general, but I sure soured her on the company I worked for."

"Christ, that is rough," Roman remarked, shaking his head. "It sounds like you really loved her."

"Nah, it was for the best," Dean said quickly. "It wouldn't have worked. She was one of those bright college girls, eventually she would have tired of my wrestling every weekend, my lack of education, all that type of stuff. I was her fling with the bad boy, eventually she probably grew up, graduated, met some professional guy who does the whole nine to five thing. It sucked that it ended that way, but I'm sure it wouldn't have lasted another six months." As he said it, he hoped Roman didn't hear the lies in his voice.

He did lose his job the day Rocky died, but another friend got him hooked up doing construction work, general grunt labor, but it paid even better than roofing and had almost unlimited overtime. After a few weeks of working every moment he could, he was able to get rid of his barely working car and replace it with a slightly better one.

Once he got another car, one that Cinnamon would never recognize as his, he found himself driving by her place quite often. He never slowed down, never stopped, just drove by. He didn't see her all the time, only when she was entering or leaving her place, but when he did, she had an air of sadness about her. Her hair didn't seem to shine as brightly, in fact there were times when it looked limp and greasy as if she hadn't washed it in days. She didn't walk with her usual happy, light steps, instead she plodded as if life had beaten her to the breaking point. Sometimes, instead of her usual gauzy blouses, she wore an oversize black T-shirt that might have been one of his. Her sneakers, which she usually kept so white they were almost dazzling looked dingy. She's in mourning he thought.

Sometimes, as he was coming up on the house, he could see her in the back yard, sitting by Rocky's grave, arms wrapped around her knees, head down, looking so forlorn and heart broken that it made him ache inside. He wondered why he tortured himself, doing this all the time, but he couldn't make himself stop. He felt he still needed to do something.

It was six months after Rocky died when he called a boxer rescue group and told them the story. Not the whole story, he left out a lot of the really gory parts and didn't tell them it was Cinnamon who had left out the chicken bones. He wasn't worried, he knew she would never do something like that again, even though she didn't know that it was her chicken bones that had ended Rocky's life. That was the type of girl she was, she didn't make the same mistakes twice. She'd probably never date another wrestler again, either. He gave the rescue her address and phone number and made them promise she would never know that he had initiated this. Let them think it was one of her friends that didn't want to be known. Then, he sent them a three hundred dollar donation, which he really couldn't afford, but he thought it would help them remain silent.

Three months later, nine months after Rocky died, he drove past her house again. He hadn't done that since he had called the rescue, but something told him to do it on that day and since it wasn't too far out of his way, he did.

As he was coming near the house, he saw her in the back yard, running around with a boxer puppy that didn't look anything like Rocky, but was absolutely adorable. Her hair was clean and shining and if she wasn't completely back to her old self, she had some of that lightness in her step again. She was wearing a light green, gauzy blouse with snow white Keds, and looked beautiful. She was both breaking and soothing his heart at the same time. It took everything he had to drive past her house, knowing it would be the last time he ever did. He didn't have to watch out for her anymore. She had gotten over Rocky, as best she could, and she had moved on from him. She had re-found the happiness she deserved and there was no room for him in that fragile place.

"Is he asleep?" Seth was asking.

Roman twisted around to look at him. Dean had laid down in the seat, his eyes shut. He couldn't stand having Seth look at him right now, he couldn't stand having anyone look at him right now. "I think so," Roman said. "His eyes are shut. Poor guy is probably pretty drained right now. I know I would be, if I just told that story to my friends."

"Do you believe he did that?" Seth asked, trying to keep his voice soft so he wouldn't wake Dean.

"I know," Roman said. "I don't know if I could have done it. Shot the dog to put him out of his misery, cleaned up the house, and then liedthat convincingly. No, change that. I couldn't have done it. I would have told the truth and tried my best to help her get over it."

"I might have tried something else," Seth admitted. "Say the dog was sick when I got there, that he was just lying on the floor looking ill and I rushed him to a vet or something, but the vet couldn't save him. Or, say he escaped from the house and ran out in the road when I was coming in the house and a car hit him. Anything but what he did. I'm not sure if he's the stupidest guy in the world, or the most awesome."

She would have seen right through those excuses, Dean thought. Rocky never ran out of the house, he was too afraid, that's why I knew he'd never have left the yard, even if I did leave the gate open all day. And if I said I'd found him dead and took him to the vet, she would have wanted to know the name of the vet. She would have wanted to know what killed her dog and to see Rocky's body. If she saw his body, she'd figure it out. I had to destroy the body enough so she'd never see that gaping hole in his throat. I had to give her a cause of death that she would never question. And Roman? You wouldn't have had to do it. With your luck, if it was the same situation, she would have called you early enough that you would have made it there before the dog ate the chicken bones. That type of crap doesn't happen to Roman Reigns. It doesn't even happen to Seth Rollins. It happens to Dean Ambrose.

He rolled over on his side, his back facing the front seat so he didn't have to deal with Roman peering over every few minutes to make sure he was asleep. Very softly, knowing that the noise of the engine would cover the sound, he sang:

You see us together

Chasing the moonlight

My Cinnamon girl.

The End

Author's Notes: I got this idea as I was watching one of the old Moxley promos and he was talking about shooting his girlfriend's dog. And I laughed, because the way he said it, it was one of those darkly funny things. But that got me to thinking, what if it was a true story? And what if there was a lot more to it than what he said on the promo? And the idea wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it down.

For the few people that read my stuff? Yes, I am still working on that semi-sequel to "After The Storm" where Dean has to babysit Roman's daughter. I thought I'd have it finished by now, but then the idea for this story came along and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down.

Just A Reader thank you for your review on the last chapter. It meant a lot to me. ALL reviews mean a lot to me, even when someone takes the time to just say, "Liked it!" But your review was awesome because you totally got what I was trying to do with this story. Thank you for letting me know I succeeded in what I set out to do.

Special thanks goes to my S/O for letting me bounce ideas. And, of course, to Betagirl. And, just because it's amusing, I'm going to include a note that Betagirl left when she sent this part back to me:

I love you but I hate you; I love it but I hate it. You made me cry. If I were your lover, you'd be sleeping on the couch tonight, but I'd sneak out and hug you, because I'd have to hug someone after reading this.

There should be another ending, something like this:

Dean did eventually fall asleep so he never heard the conversation taking place in the front seat.

"We have to find her," Seth said. "

"I know," Roman agreed. "But we don't have anything but her first name."

"Her name is Cinnamon!" Seth exclaimed. "She went to college in Cincinnati on a scholarship. She was driving on a learner's permit two years before she met Dean, which would make her about eighteen, maybe nineteen when they met. This was probably some time between 2004 and 2006. Maybe as much as 2003 and 2007. But still, how many girls with the first name of Cinnamon were living in Cincinnati at the time? How many with full scholarships?"

"You're right." Roman took out his smart phone and began Googling for colleges in Cincinnati. "We'll find her."

I have to admit now, that I'm flirting with the idea of Roman and Seth tracking down Cinnamon to let her know the truth. I could see them doing that for Dean. If you think that's a good idea, let me know. The more I know people want it, the more likely I am to be motivated enough to write it.

If you've gotten this far, why don't you take a few more minutes to let me know what you thought? I do respond to all reviews that leave me a way to contact them. And I'm not too proud to admit that the only reason I write fanfiction is because I like feedback. No feedback, no inspiration.

Thank you for being willing to take this trip with me.

Willow