Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the WWE. Just any OCs!

Summary: After a car accident leaves them stranded in the middle of nowhere, the members of the Shield find themselves wrapped up in a deadly game where no one can be trusted but each other. But there is one catch– the game is intended for only one winner, and to lose is to die.

Author's Note: Hey, guys! Sorry for the bit of a wait again. I don't have much of an excuse this time, other than this chapter (and the story itself) started going a completely different way than I'd initially planned, so it took a little while to switch gears. But thank you for all of your reviews and for your patience, it really means a lot! I'm glad this story is still loved so much! As I promised at the end of the last chapter, prepare for a familiar face as he continue to move forward. Thanks again for your patience, and I hope this chapter was worth the wait!

Chapter 21

The first thing that could be heard that morning was a scream.

Roman's eyes snapped open as he bolted upright, wincing when his sore knee protested to the sudden action. He had been starting to get wakeful over the past half hour or so anyway, his body, particularly his leg, very stiff from lying on the hard floor all night. Why Dean hadn't woken him to take a lookout shift, he wasn't sure, though he wasn't complaining about an entire night of rest. It was clearly something he'd needed.

Not too far from him, Seth groaned as his brown eyes fluttered open, narrowing them and raising a hand to block the pale, early sunlight that happened to be filtering through the cracks in the wall of the shed right in his face. "What... what's going on?" he asked, having been woken by the panicked sound, too. He tightened his arm ever so slightly around his abdomen, setting his jaw against the pain that had continually woken him throughout the night.

"I... I'm not sure..." Roman answered, passing a hand over his face in effort to wake himself up a bit more.

However, another scream identical to the first accomplished that much quicker, and the oldest member of the group snapped his head around with wide eyes until they landed on their third friend, who was pressed as tightly against the door of the shed as he could be, his face drained of all color. "Dean, are you okay?"

The sandy-haired man's gaze quickly shot to him before lowering back to whatever he'd been looking at on the floor in front of him. His breathing was quick and ragged, and there was unmistakable fear in his eyes. "I... I dozed off for only a couple minutes, I... I swear..." he croaked in a voice no more than a whisper. "And... and this thing... Fuck!"

Roman pushed himself to his one good knee and leaned a bit to the side, trying to get a look at what had Dean so frightened around the bale of hay that was blocking his view. His eyes narrowed slightly, his fuzzy mind slowly beginning to process the loud, rapid, high-pitched noise that had been persisting in the shed. "Damn, is that a cicada or something?" he muttered, mainly to himself. "They're loud this morning..."

Seth used the hay bale that had been his pillow that night to push himself up into a sitting position, and he leaned forward a bit to try to see better as well. What he saw in front of Dean instead made his eyes widen and mouth drop open. "Uh, Roman... That's not a cicada," he told him. "That's a rattle."

"No shit!" Dean snapped, appearing as though he'd fall right through the door if he backed any further into it. His voice was a higher pitch than either of the other two men had ever heard from him before. "I had no fucking idea that was a fucking rattle, Seth! Tell me something I don't fucking know!" He instantly closed his mouth and flinched, slowly taking a small step to the side before stopping again immediately.

Realizing what the two-toned man had meant, Roman's stomach dropped as he pushed himself to his feet with a slight wince, shaking out his knee. He cautiously took a few steps toward Dean, letting out a startled yell as he recoiled when he saw just what exactly had backed him into a corner.

It was one of the biggest snakes he'd ever seen not on Animal Planet. Its lithe body, which bulged slightly at the curves, was coiled tightly on the ground. The lighter, almost pale yellow base color of its skin, which was ringed with black near the tail and had other dark spots moving up its spine– the coloring commonly associated with a timber rattlesnake– caused it to blend in well with the straw that was scattered along the floor. It's dark rattle was moving so fast that he could barely see it even if he squinted, and its narrow, slit-like eyes set in its angular, arrow-shaped head were trained intently on Dean's bare feet.

It was way too close for comfort.

"Fucking hell..." the oldest member of the group whispered, taking a step back from the other man. There was no way that he was getting close to that thing, either.

Dean looked up at him anxiously. "Dude! Shoot it!" he said, his voice cracking. "Roman, fucking shoot it!"

Roman met the other man's light, horrified gaze with his own. "Shoot it?" he repeated. "Dean, you really expect me to waste ammo that we're already running low on on that?"

"Yes!" Dean flinched when the snake made a quick, sudden movement with its head, almost as though feigning a strike. "Fuck! Just hurry up, Roman! This thing's fucking getting ready to bite me, man!"

"What'd you do to piss it off, man?" Roman asked, quickly reaching for the gun he kept on his belt. Despite his better judgement, he may have to resort to using the weapon. The serpent was clearly very riled up, and he'd have to be careful not to get too close unless he risked getting bitten himself. Getting bitten by a poisonous snake was the last thing any of them needed in this already dire situation. Surely, they'd get no help for the bite in this place. Not when the whole town wanted them dead to begin with.

Dean met his gaze again, a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplated his answer. "Well... I dozed off about an hour or two ago," he muttered, his eyes flitting back to the snake ready to strike. He tried to keep absolutely still, not even wanting to move his littlest toe in fear of urging it to attack. "And when I realized it, I obviously woke up as quickly as I could since I wasn't supposed to be sleeping, and I almost stepped on this... charming little guy."

He winced slightly when he heard the high-pitched chuckle in the back of his mind that he'd become very accustomed to. "If tha's how you'd choose to call him, tha's your own prerogative. I personally would call him an ugly little bas–!"

"Shut up, maybe I don't want him to bite me," Dean whispered.

The Paige in his head laughed again. "So complimenting him is going to help somehow?" she asked.

"You never know..."But then, Dean's eyes widened when he suddenly heard her gasp.

"Look ou'! Quick, move righ'!"

On instinct, Dean immediately moved his left leg, but he still felt the rush of air as the snake lunged for his foot, leaving a slight impression in the dusty ground from its head right where his heel had been. "Shit! Roman, just do something, man!"

"Okay, okay..." Roman steadied his hands enough to unlock the safety before raising the gun. His light eyes narrowed slightly when he found he had trouble targeting the serpent's thin, quickly moving body.

He hadn't had nearly that much trouble when he'd aimed at the officers who'd been after them...

However, this thought made Roman hesitate as his heart leapt. No, he refused to think like that. He wouldn't allow himself to think about how it was easier to shoot a person. There was no coming back from that...

"I... I can't get a good shot..." the oldest member of the trio murmured. His hands trembled a bit more when he saw the dismay that crossed Dean's pale face as the snake between them prepared for another strike.

Then, Roman quickly looked to the right when he caught sudden motion out of the corner of his eye, and his brow furrowed when he saw Seth had approached him, leaning heavily on the wooden handle of a pitchfork. He eyed the three long, sharp points nervously. "Where the hell did you find that?" he asked. With how much sweat was on the two-toned man's face, he shouldn't have even been on his feet.

Seth took a few deep, heavy breaths before meeting Roman's gaze. "In the back by those barrels," he answered quietly. "I figured it could solve the snake problem without wasting ammo. But I'm gonna need your help."

"What, are you planning on skewing it or something, Seth?" Dean demanded anxiously, keeping a close eye on the snake's head, which was angled perfectly to sink its fangs into his exposed foot.

"No, just to get it away from you." Seth spared the sandy-haired man a glance, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before turning back to Roman. "I can't do much with my ribs, and you're bigger than me, anyway, so it'll probably work better with you. But if you walk with me and stomp as hard as you can on the ground, I should be able to steer it away from him with this. The vibration will scare it."

"Just... just do something quickly, okay, guys?" Dean begged, his voice once again rising higher than they were used to as it cracked. "I think he's losing his patience... And fast."

Roman only took a moment to contemplate this plan before he nodded his agreement. He seemed to recall hearing something similar about serpents on some sort of animal documentary, considering they really couldn't see other than heat, and they wouldn't have to waste any of their quickly depleting ammunition. The only problem he could see was his surely infected knee that he couldn't put much pressure on, but he could certainly use his other one. "All right, man. Let's do this."

Seth smiled slightly before gritting his teeth as he lifted the pitchfork which had previously been supporting him, keeping the prongs in front of him and aimed at the coiled snake as he cautiously took a few steps toward their third friend. Roman walked next to him, stomping his good leg as hard as he could whenever he put that foot first. The snake quickly shrunk back at the feel of the vibrations through the wooden floor, causing the oldest member of The Shield to smile slightly as he stomped his foot even harder on the ground the closer they got to it. When he was near enough, Seth extended the pitchfork, carefully trying to maneuver the sharp points beneath its head and causing it to strike at the metal. But as Roman stomped his foot a couple more times, it shrunk back once more, and the two-toned man was able to guide it toward the shed door that was open a crack With one final stomp, the snake slithered through the gap and out into the field.

With the immediate danger gone, Dean let out a long breath and sank into a crouch against the closed door behind him, covering his pale, sweat-drenched face with both hands as his body trembled. "Oh, my fucking God..." he managed to whisper.

"Well, tha' was certainly a close call, wasn' i'? Man, talk abou' exhilarating firs' thing in the morning, huh, Dean?"

Dean grit his teeth. Though he had to admit he loved having her around to keep him somewhat sane in this game he felt was spiraling ever more quickly out of his control, she could also be annoying at times. "Shut up... Why don't we have you get cornered by a giant rattlesnake and see how you like it?"

The Paige in his head simply laughed. "Oh, Dean, my boy. Relax a little, huh? He was probably jus' coming in here for some shade, and you were in his way. Besides, you survived, didn' you?"

For this, Dean didn't have a snappy comeback, so he simply grumbled under his breath.

Roman let out a long breath of his own, putting his gun away before he reached out and patted the sandy-haired member of their trio on the back in a good-natured way. "Man, that was close," he muttered. "Way too close. I give these people credit for living with those things around. Man..."

Dean slowly lifted his head to look at the other man. "Fuck, I couldn't do it, dude..." He took a deep breath as his gaze passed over the vast interior of the shed as though looking for the snake's brother or perhaps even larger parents. Seeing nothing among the loose straw, he turned back to his two friends. "Thank God for Seth's quick thinking, huh? That was good strategy you had there, Smokey."

Seth rolled his eyes from where he was leaning on the pitchfork again. "Yeah, later I'll be teaching you how to prevent forest fires," he said before smirking.

"Man, it makes me glad I'm stuck out here in the middle of nowhere with you," Dean replied with a chuckle. "You don't lose your cool. God, how many times have you saved my ass now?"

The two-toned man stuck his tongue between his teeth as he clearly feigned trying to recall just how many times he'd done just that. "A couple times, at least," he told him, a broad smile appearing on his face. "Man, you're gonna owe me so much when we get outta here. It'll be ridiculous."

Dean smirked himself. "Yeah, I'll get you as many cups of coffee with butter in it that your little heart desires."

"You've got a deal." Seth chuckled a little, as much as he could without causing even more pain to his ribs, before he turned his attention to Roman. "You all right there, big man? It looked like you were walking a little gingerly on that knee, there."

Roman brushed his concern aside with a wave of his hand, though he couldn't deny that it was something that he should probably be worried about. Later, he kept telling himself. He'd worry about it later when time wasn't so of the essence and there weren't more pressing matters to attend to first.

But before he could actually say anything, he and his two friends paused and fell silent when they heard footsteps crunching through the wheat as someone made their way around the field toward the shed. All three exchanged wide-eyed looks, all realizing at the same time that all the commotion they'd probably caused dealing with the snake seemed to have been noticed by the occupants of the house not too far away across the field.

Roman and Seth quickly started looking around the shed, trying to find the closest spot where they could hide. The hay bales and barrels against the opposite wall were too far to get to quickly, and the rusty ladder that was leaning against the wall to get to the overhead loft was out of the question since neither one of them were in the greatest condition for climbing at a quick enough pace.

This left one option.

"Screw this," Dean murmured, pushing himself to his feet as he reached out and grabbed the gun with the most ammunition that was in Seth's possession before he leaned back against the door behind him and unlocked the safety. "I'm not dying like a trapped rat in here. If I am dying here, I'm not going down without a fight."

"At least we have the element of surprise," Roman agreed just as quietly, grabbing the two-toned man's arm and pulling him back against the door beside Dean with him. He held his own gun that he'd almost used on their surprise visitor tightly in his own hand once more, preparing for whatever was going to walk through that door, while next to him, Seth held the pitchfork tightly in his hands in front of him.

All three of them waited with bated breath as the footsteps drew closer. The door that was cracked open slightly was pulled open more, and a moment later, a short figure entered the shed.

Dean acted immediately. Before the door had the chance to even close completely, he'd lunged and wrapped an arm behind the figure's neck from behind while pressing the barrel of the gun against their temple with the other. A high-pitched scream escaped from his captive while the couple bundles of wheat they'd been carrying dropped to the floor.

Seth slowly lowered the pitchfork from its offensive position while Roman's eyes widened as he dropped his hand holding the gun to his side as the sandy-haired man struggled with who had entered the shed. "Dean, wait!" the oldest of the three exclaimed. He immediately recognized the light, fear-filled eyes of the girl that had wound up in the other man's forceful grasp, as well as the long blonde hair that was tied in a ponytail and draped over her right shoulder.

It was Isabella.

xxx

Simon slowly rocked back and forth in the rocking chair that sat in the corner of his living room, simply listening to the fans that were making a good effort to cool the house as much as they could against the oppressive afternoon heat. Jackson, his grandson, sat in his lap, cooing with contentment as he brought a plastic block into his mouth and began to chew on it, and Charlie, the family cat, was curled up under the window, basking in the sunlight that was filtering through. Other than his two small companions, he was alone. His wife, Catherine, and her twin daughters, Zoe and Alexis, were in town until evening, and his daughter, Isabella, was helping him with a lot of the field work that needed to be done for the day. He hated to admit it, but he wasn't getting any younger, and he'd realized that morning that he'd strained a muscle in his back from chasing their three new outsiders up and down the mountain the other night.

His gaze hardened when his thoughts strayed to the three men who were trying to escape from town alive. Simon lowered his head and left a soft kiss on the top of Jackson's light hair before his eyes flitted to a low wooden table that was set up across the room from him next to the window. A few framed photographs were set up on its smooth surface, ones that'd been taken from his old house in town when he moved out to the farm with Catherine. Behind the protective glass were images through the years of both of his children from his first marriage as they grew up, leading all the way up until the year prior. There were none of Miriam, his ex-wife.

Another quiet coo brought him out of his thoughts, and Simon smiled slightly as he glanced down at Jackson, who was looking up at him with wide, familiar-colored eyes while he continued to chew on the block. "You look just like your mother," he muttered, mainly to himself. "That's all I can ask for. Hopefully, you'll realize how important that is someday."

He knew to say that he'd been bitter for years at the world outside of the small, comfortable town he'd called home was an understatement. Years ago, when he was married for the first time and his oldest children had still been small, his life had been perfect. He had found the woman who had made him happier than any other, and his children were the pride of his life.

But he'd been blind to how his life had actually been falling apart. His wife had been growing restless with the small town life, and ideas had begun to grow in her head of what another life could be like. Unbeknownst to Simon until it was too late, Miriam had struck up a friendship with a lawyer who was staying in the town for a couple of days because he'd gotten waylaid on his way toward Charleston, and before he knew it, she had left with him, filled with probably empty promises and broken dreams of what the other world had to offer. He'd hardly given her a thought since.

What truly terrified him was this lawyer had been around his children, feeding them the same kinds of stories about where he came from in the city. Jim, fortunately, had scoffed at them, not wanting to hear a word of the nonsense that he was spewing. But Isabella, his sweet little girl, had always been more whimsical and a dreamer like her mother, and she had asked him many questions, including if she could see the city someday.

Simon had immediately put an end to that talk, and it was something he kept strongly to through the years as his children grew up, even after he married Catherine. But despite his iron grip on that mentality, and despite how he'd tried to keep his children protected from the world outside, it still managed to kick the door of their small town down with a vengeance and stole the most important things from him. Outsiders had taken his wife from him, his son from him, and had almost taken his daughter from him, too. He hoped that her encounter with the motorcycle gang the year prior had taught her that outsiders really were dangerous and not to be trusted.

But the wrong that had been committed against his daughter, despite the good that had come from it in the form of the small child sitting on his lap at that moment, had only been an excuse for him to become involved with the crusade he led against any outsider who encroached on their home. It had given him the sympathy of the people who lived in town with him that he needed to rally enough support to start what they now viewed as good sport. And the death of his son at the hands of these three outsiders was unforgivable. He wasn't going to show any mercy this time. All three of them would die, he would make sure of it. He was just glad that he had Robert Perry at his side at the head of this hunt, a man he'd discovered when he'd been lost himself and crafted into a partner who believed in justice as much as he did. It wasn't too much work to get him to support the same ideology since a lot of the groundwork was already in place for the other man. All it took was a little push in the right direction. Though he'd known from the start he'd made the right choice in Perry.

Simon's gaze moved out the window to the shed across the field where Isabella had spent quite a bit of the early part of the day so far, and his eyes hardened. Lately, he'd noticed a bit of a change in his daughter, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. With the outsiders close by, he couldn't deny that he was a little nervous.

But just like he was resolved to not let any one of them escape with their lives, he was just as determined to protect his daughter. He would not allow any outsider to take her away from him, too, no matter what the cost.

He would do whatever he had to to make sure of that.

xxx

Dean smiled sheepishly as Isabella crouched on the floor of the shed in front of him, tossing away the cigarette he'd burned his way through before taking a fresh water bottle and ham and cheese sandwich wrapped in plastic wrap she offered him. He and his two friends had nearly gone through all the food he'd managed to take from the house the night before over the course of the afternoon, so he was grateful that their unexpected visitor that day had brought them a light dinner to get them started. "Thanks, darlin'," he said, immediately taking a sip of the cold beverage. "So, uh, sorry about the whole threatening your life thing. No hard feelings? I mean, we're cool, right?"

Isabella fought to keep a smile from forming on her face, planning on making him sweat a bit, but she quickly gave up as she chuckled. "Yeah, Dean, we're cool," she agreed. "I just had no idea that you guys were hiding out in our shed. I mean, Zoe thought that someone was in the kitchen when she went to find their cat last night, but other than that..."

"I was seen?!" Dean asked anxiously, his light eyes wide. He remembered those tense couple minutes in the kitchen when he'd taken the food and drinks out of the refrigerator clearly, having to hide since one of the twin girls had come looking for Charlie at the most inopportune time. He thought he'd done a good job of staying out of sight, but apparently, he hadn't.

Fortunately, the seventeen-year-old shook her head as she got back to her feet and walked over to where Seth was sitting leaning against a hay barrel. "No, you weren't seen," she assured him. "So, you're okay. Besides, she has an active imagination, and it wouldn't be the first time. I convinced her it was the boogeyman, and it was all good."

"Boogeyman, huh? Fitting name for you, Dean, my boy."

Dean simply grumbled under his breath when he heard the smart response from the Paige in his head.

Seth chuckled a little himself when Isabella then crouched in front of him, handing him a wrapped ham and cheese sandwich and water bottle as well. "You're a lifesaver," he muttered, smiling as she met his gaze. "With that, and with bringing us real food."

Isabella smiled in return. "It's my pleasure," she replied, handing him a few more pain relievers and fever reducers, as well. "Take these while you eat. They'll help more when they're not on an empty stomach. I brought some bandages with me, too, and I'd like to check out your ribs and Roman's knee." She paused and glanced over her shoulder at Dean. "You don't have anything life-threatening, do you? Nothing happened with the snake?"

Dean smirked slightly. The story of their early morning surprise traveled quickly in this small shed. "Nah, I'm good," he said. "Just some bumps and bruises. Nothing I can't handle."

"You're shoeless," Isabella pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

The sandy-haired member of The Shield shrugged. "If that's the worst of it, I really can't complain." He took a bite of his sandwich, and his eyebrows shot up. "Oh, my God, you actually used real mayo. I think you're my new hero."

"So wha' am I, then? Chopped liver? I'm no' going to be replaced by this little blonde Barbie doll, Dean..."

Isabella laughed as she made her way toward where Roman was leaning against the wall with the last sandwich and water bottle. "Doesn't take much to impress you, does it?" she wondered.

Roman smiled as she stopped in front of him. "Don't mind Dean," he told her quietly. "He can be an asshole at times."

"I think he's amusing," Isabella countered, her own smile lingering as she held out the wrapped sandwich. "Peanut butter and jelly, like you requested."

"Thanks, girl." Roman's smile broadened as he took it from her. "So, you were able to get these okay? Like, your dad didn't catch you or anything, did he?"

Isabella shook her head. "No, he didn't see me making them," she said. "We're okay."

"Good." Roman let out a long, slow breath. "Just be careful, okay, Izzy? You're risking a lot by helping us out right under his nose."

A moment passed where what almost appeared to be uncertainty passed over Isabella's face before she smiled and handed him his water bottle. "Thanks for your concern, but I'll be fine," she muttered. "He's my dad. He's not going to do anything to me."

From where they were sitting a little further away, Dean and Seth exchanged nervous looks while they munched on their own sandwiches. From what they've seen of Simon, he was the type to do whatever it took to reach whatever goal he was determined to meet. But she could have had a point. He surely couldn't do anything hurtful to his own family.

But what if he found out she was helping them? Dean had to admit he could have been wrong about this sweet seventeen-year-old– he understood why Roman trusted her since he could see that the help she was giving them was genuine, even if he couldn't quite jump on her bandwagon yet. Though with the entire town against them, what would happen to her if anyone found out she was on their side instead? All he knew was it couldn't be good.

"Anyway, what's your plan from here?" Isabella asked, reaching into the bag she'd brought with her that was still over her shoulder and digging around for the wrap bandages she'd grabbed. "You can't stay here much longer, my dad will find you sooner or later."

With a sigh, Roman glanced past her at where Dean was sitting, instantly met with the same wall of resistance he'd been getting whenever this particular subject arose. "We haven't really reached an agreement on the subject," he answered stiffly. The other man simply smirked before taking another long sip of his water.

Isabella quickly looked up at him. "Do you still have the map I gave you?" she wondered.

Roman nodded. "Yeah, but we've gotten pretty far off the beaten path, so to speak," he admitted. "And are out of a lot of supplies besides food."

A moment passed where Isabella thought over his words while she crouched in front of him, moving the material of his jeans aside and wincing slightly when she saw the laceration a bullet had left behind on his knee. "Well, you're pretty close to town," she muttered, opening another water bottle she'd brought and pouring some of the cool liquid onto a cloth. "It'd be a good stop to stock up on whatever you need."

The oldest member of the trio smiled slightly in Dean's direction, earning an irritated eyeroll in return.

"But, it'd be too dangerous for all of you to go there, even if you went at night," Isabella continued, reaching out and rubbing the cloth carefully around the wound. She didn't hesitate when Roman flinched. "You could easily be seen. And, sorry to say, you guys won't get anywhere too fast with Seth's ribs in the condition they're in, or your knee, Roman, which is infected." Roman's smug look vanished while Dean's lips turned up in a look of victory.

"So, what do you suggest?" Seth asked, taking another small bite of his sandwich. Though his crushed ribs had caused problems keeping food down before, he had to admit it tasted better than he'd imagined. Having real food from a rare friendly face was doing wonders for all of them. "You said it yourself, we can't stay here. Your dad's going to find us sooner or later, and we're sitting ducks here."

Isabella worried a thoughtful lip between her teeth. "I can't afford to take too much more from my dad's house, or else he'll notice," she said slowly, evidence of a plan forming visible behind her eyes. "But if you guys make me a list of what supplies you need, I could run into town tonight after Perry's station closes and pick them up for you. Then, I could bring them back here, and we can go over the map again and find the quickest and safest route for you guys to take out of here."

Roman's brow furrowed. "Are you sure that's safe, Izzy?" he pressed. "What if you get caught?"

The seventeen-year-old smiled back at him. "I'm not the one these guys are after," she reminded him. "Besides, if Perry should happen to come back to the station while I'm there, I can just say I... I'm getting my brother's belongings." She paused for a moment, her gaze faltering. "His family or my dad haven't collected them yet."

Roman let out a long, low breath, his eyes moving to Dean as he watched the other man slowly lower the hand that was holding the sandwich to his lap. The guilt that crossed his face was obvious. There was no question the sandy-haired member of The Shield had had to shoot the officer since he would have killed them otherwise, but being in the same space as the sister he'd left behind was clearly affecting him.

"You had no choice... you know tha', Dean."

Dean chuckled under his breath with a slight shake of his head. "I know. That's what I keep telling myself, Paige," he murmured to the familiar English accent in his mind. "But I did it without a second thought. He has a family. What if..." He hesitated, holding his breath for a moment. "What if he was right, Paige?" His voice cracked ever so slightly. "What if I am losing myself?"

A lengthy pause met his near silent question. Dean's heart started to speed up anxiously. What if even she thought badly of him for his actions? She was one person he couldn't have against him, no matter how much he hated to admit it. He needed her on his side in this game.

However, the Paige in his head simply chuckled herself, and he'd never been more relieved to hear her voice. "You're no' a monster, Dean, no matter wha' people tell you. You're doing wha' you have to do to ge' you and your friends home to us alive, and tha's wha' matters now. And you're no' los'. No' ye', anyway, bu' I don' think you will be. Bu' don' worry. If by some chance you do ge' los', I'll be there to find you again."

It was at that moment that Dean wished that the British Diva was actually in this shed with him in the middle of West Virginia and not just in his mind. She was still on his side. "I could hug you right now," he whispered.

"Oh, really?" The amusement in Paige's voice was clear. "Careful. Don' wanna lose your bad boy vibe there, Dean, my boy. Or are you really a softy at hear'?"

Dean smirked, rolling his eyes. "Shut up, Paige."

"There, tha's better." Tha's the Dean I know and love."

Finally, Isabella cleared her throat, dropping her head slightly as she tried to hide the thin line of tears that had formed in her eyes. Roman and Seth exchanged nervous, almost guilty glances. Though neither one of them had actually pulled the trigger that had taken Jim's life, the guilt they felt came in the form of the vulnerable teen that was now trying to help them. To them, the cop had been a cold-hearted man who was trying to kill them purely for pleasure. But to Isabella, he had been her caring older brother.

"Izzy, I'm so sorry..." the former began hesitantly. But he instantly stopped when she shook her head and took a deep breath.

"No, Roman, don't worry," Isabella replied, raising her gaze back to his and attempting to give him a small smile. There were no tears in her eyes. "What's done is done. What we need to focus on now is getting you guys patched up a bit and on your way out of here." She sighed, glancing around at the three men. "So, what do you think? Does this sound like a plan?"

"I say we should go for it," Seth spoke up. Roman and Dean both turned to look at him. The two-toned man shrugged slightly. "I mean, it's the best plan we've come up with so far. Not like we were really getting anywhere, anyway..."

After a moment's hesitation, Roman nodded once. "If you're sure it's safe, then all right," he agreed, his tone still somewhat reluctant. "Seth's right. We weren't agreeing on anything, and we have to start moving as quickly as possible."

All eyes then turned to Dean, who remained quiet as he took another bite of his sandwich. He took his time chewing before he swallowed, chasing it down with a long sip of water. He then looked up and met the expectant gazes that were being sent his way. "Fine, we'll go with her plan," he muttered, setting the bottle down before looking directly at Isabella. "But only on one condition."

Isabella met his light eyes with her own. "What's that?"

Dean took a deep breath. "I go with you," he told her.

Seth raised a surprised eyebrow while Roman's eyes narrowed. "Dean..."

"No, guys, it's not because I don't trust her." Dean set his jaw as he pushed himself to his feet and slowly began walking toward her. "At least, not completely, anyway. After everyone we've run into in this place, forgive me for saying that I'm not trusting of anyone other than these two."

Isabella rose to her feet and turned to face him. "I understand," she replied. "This is the first time you've met me. And I'm from here, too."

"Good. I'm glad we have an understanding." Dean came to a stop in front of the seventeen-year-old, studying her face carefully. "But an extra pair of hands for supplies wouldn't hurt. And I'm not as... hindered as these guys." By the annoyed look that crossed Roman's face, he knew that he probably could have picked a different word. But it was true all the same.

"Again, you're shoeless," Isabella reminded him, a hint of a playful smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "That can hinder a person who's traveling."

Dean smirked. "Hopefully, we can fix that problem by this run into town." He sighed again before he held his hand out to her. "So. What do you say?"

Isabella glanced back at Roman for approval, getting a slight shrug in response, before she turned back to Dean. She gazed into his eyes for a long moment, and after a while of finding nothing threatening, she cautiously reached out and shook his proffered hand.

"You have a deal."

Author's Note: So, there we have it! A couple new developments here. Simon's agenda is much different than Perry's (refer back to chapter nineteen if need be), and Isabella is willing to help, even if not all of our boys are super trusting of that help. But will her plan be enough? We'll have to find out! Also just a quick shout-out to all my friends in Ring of Honor for their exciting national broadcast television debut this week! So, so happy for these guys, they deserve it! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading! Your reviews are much appreciated. Thank you!