Post by Dean Harper on Mar 7, 2024 5:39:03 GMT
Uriel was gone in the back of an ambulance. Dean got chewed out by Roberto about a couple of things, mostly his assault on Vasco the show before which Dean paid the fine on. He was told in very clear terms if he made an appearance at the hospital that Uriel was sent to he’d be stripped of the World title. On top of that, both he and Warren were given some mandatory time off. Part of Dean wanted to risk it just to ensure Uriel never woke up as he was shoved to the parking lot towards his car, unexpectedly he saw Warren was leaning against his car with the bloody sledgehammer, waiting.
“That for me?” Dean asked casually.
“If it was, you’d be leaving here tonight in an ambulance too,” Warren smirked, twirling the hammer with a casual callousness Dean wasn’t used to.
“Point taken. Are you here to tell me not to go to the hospital too?” Dean had his car keys in his hand, still debating his next course of action.
“You can if you want, maybe Verona will make this year’s Roulette real interesting by making it for the vacant World Championship then,” Warren grinned, “Although, that would still leave us with some unfinished personal business.”
“I just want this nightmare over with. Not that I don’t appreciate the help out there. He just has the tape and I need that gone.”
“Tonight’s your lucky night then, Sweetness,” Warren smiled. “I finally know where it is.”
Dean’s entire body language changed, eyes widened, “Are you serious?”
“After the way that cocksucker has jerked us around for years, this is not something I’d jerk you around on,” Warren said. “He gave me an address whilst he was being loaded onto the stretcher.”
The impulse to kiss Warren and shove him against the car was plan on dean’s face but he resisted, knew that would only complicate their fucked up situation, “how far is it?”
“You’re not going to like it,” Warren said, “We’ll have to fly out of the country.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped, “Oh fuck me. Of course it is. Wait… we’ll? You’re… coming?”
“Of course, Sweetness. This feels a little more important than our marital problems. He fucked with me too, remember? Trying to convince me it was consensual and not forced…not rape. I need to see justice done. I need some closure too.”
Dean struggled with words for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, “Sure, yeah that makes sense. Uh, thank you.” Dean pulled out his phone looking for local flights, “Where are we going?”
“Glagow, Scotland,” Warren frowned. “Right into the viper’s nest. One more way to fuck with you, I’m guessing.”
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep through all the fun. Did you have a good nap on the plane?”
Dean shook his head to try to get the voice out of his head, “It’s what he enjoyed. There’s a red eye in an hour unless you have something to do?”
“Nothing is more important to me than this, right now,” Warren said. “We’ll call Dawn and Shea on the way, they can alternate looking after Damien for however long we’re both out of the country. Do you want me to come with you or should we make our own way separately to the airport?”
“It will be cheaper if only one of us paid for parking but I get it if you need to grab some things first.”
“I do need to, as well as secure my bike,” Warren said. “ You could come with me, and we will go to the airport together afterwards.”
“Sure.” Dean agreed, he had a bug-out bag in the trunk of the car left over from his pack days. Never knew when you needed to leave.
Warren’s new motorcycle was something of a surprise to Dean, as they walked across the parking lot towards it. “A beauty, isn't she?” Warren smiled. “Dr Griffiths insisted I show myself some love, so I treated myself for Valentine’s this year.” Warren deposited the hammer back into the bike’s storage trunk and handed Dean his spare helmet.
“Wasn’t aware you liked motorcycles.” Dean mentioned as he put on the helmet, trying to calm his heart down from the idea of holding onto Warren’s waist. It didn’t mean anything. None of this meant anything more than ending the traumatic saga and ending the power Uriel had held over them for years now.
“One of the few non-wrestling passions I shared with Spike,” Warren put his helmet on, lowering the visor. “Used to ride more when I was a teen, just like he did.”
They rode first to the local hotel. Warren left the bike secured in the parking garage and took a moment to message Dawn and Shea in a group chat as he collected his stuff from the room to check out. Told them to look after Damien because he and Dean were headed out of town for a few days. Dawn sent a text back, promised to spoil Damien and set up plans with Shea.
Dean waited for Warren outside of his room, not wanting to enter. A separation meant he kept himself from being near a bed and his husband. As much as Dean could convince himself sometimes that he was over Warren, touching him made it hard to ignore the amount he longed for him.
“It’s alright, you know? I won’t bite,” Warren smiled. The distance Dean kept as Warren packed his bags had not gone unnoticed.
“Yeah, but I do.” Dean tried to look at everything else in the room but the bed. “And being close to you and a bed could lead to places.”
“Only if I let it,” Warren gathered some toiletries and packed them with his clothes and comics. “Your desirability is not your fault, nor is it irresistible, Sweetness. Mutual consent is important, no matter what your abusers told you.”
“I just don’t want to fuck things up further than I already have.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “I am sorry I went low. I was so angry at you I just …it didn’t make it okay. I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me obviously just wanted you to know I wish I hadn’t said it.”
“Thank you for the apology and for recognizing fault,” Warren said softly. “I guess we both went a little harder at each other than we expected, and as much as it hurt me and as much as I could apologies for my part, I know we’ll probably just throw down again next time we have to face each other. I wish there were lines you hadn’t crossed, just like I haven’t but there’s nothing I can do about it now. You said what you said to get in my head and keep your title, and got the job done like you always do.”
“Yeah.” Dean admitted, “I wish I could go back to the guy who didn’t care about the titles. Therapist thinks … sorry, that sounds like excuses. I’m still sorry but the why doesn’t matter. I hurt you for something stupid.”
“Least you probably made your father proud, he always did love slapping down Kanes,” Warren said bitterly, as he zipped up his suitcase.
“I don’t think of you as Kane. I think of you as my husband. As for whether he’s proud of me or not… well, you should really rewatch that last couple promos he cut on me.” Dean laughed dryly. “It’s whatever.”
“I try not to watch overhyped egomaniacs whenever possible,” Warren said, phone pressed to his ear as he tried to get through to a local cab company.
Dean waited for Warren to get the cab situated as he bought the airplane tickets on his phone. He figured it was the least he could do after everything. He got them First Class and while it meant sitting near each other it was at least some level of comfort to have to go in the tin can in the sky. Dean hated flying. Usually he took a sleeping pill or got a little drunk to handle it. But he’d quit drinking. And every drug tasted like whatever Uriel had slipped him, even from a fresh bottle. So he had to prepare himself to raw dog the anxiety and the fear the old fashioned way.
Warren arranged the cab with the grace and efficiency of someone used to traveling and a life on the road, gave the hotel address and the airport destination, The cab took fifteen minutes to arrive. It was already going to be a long night but they were committed to this now, the first time in years that they had been truly united on anything, and it was in the personal and professional destruction of Uriel Black.
Dean readjusted his bugout bag over his shoulder as they walked down to the lobby. “I booked us in First Class. Hope you don’t mind being stuck with me for a few hours.”
“Honey, we’re still married. Technically that means being stuck with you is a life choice,” Warren smiled as he opened the cab door for Dean. “Grace before beauty.”
Dean laughed, slid into the cab back seat, “Thanks, love.”
The anxiety about being in the plane was already starting as they drove to the airport. Dean’s leg bounced as he tried to think of literally anything other than the statistics of plane crashes.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Warren whispered, intuitively. He knew when Dean was anxious, the involuntarily leg bounce was a clear tell. He took Dean’s hand, squeezed firmly. “They’re safer than you think, besides if we die, we die together. But we've made it this far flying around the world with IWF, we’re going to be okay, trust me.”
Dean felt his heart flip at the feel of holding Warren’s hand but his leg stopped bouncing, “Sorry. I know. I just hate flying.”
“I know, Sweetness,” Warren said softly, “I know.”
Dean looked at Warren and squeezed his hand, “Thank you… for this.”
The cab pulled up to the airport quicker than Dean would have liked. He wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety or just not wanting to let go of Warren’s hand.
Warren let go to pay the fare. They then left the cab quickly, hauled through the airport, Warren checked flight detail confirmation with Dean. It was last minute and not a flight they could afford to miss. As they went through security and customs with their bags checked in and made it to the gate just in time to board.
Dean took a deep breath, “Okay. Okay.” He followed Warren through the line to get on the plane. They’d have the tape and all this would be over soon.
As they sat down Dean was slightly happy to see that First Class was mostly empty. He let Warren have the window seat. He let his arm brush Warren’s as they waited for the take off. Warren didn’t notice or didn't object, it was hard to say. Dean never was great at reading him.
Dean gripped the arm rest tight as the plane took off trying to stay grounded in the present and not worse case scenarios, “Rawdogging this sucks.”
“You could take something,” Warren offered. “Sleeping pills?”
“I haven’t been able to take drugs in years.” Dean admitted softly, “Like I tried the ones I’m prescribed for, you know, the crazy but I uh… I always freak out after tasting them.”
“If it would help, you should take some pills,” Warren said. “I'm with you, if you lose it. You don't have to face it all alone, anymore.”
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of the fact you’re here.” Dean admitted softly, “I don’t want you to resent me and have to take care of me because I’m such a little bitch about planes.”
“And there it is,” Warren sighed. “One of the key roadblocks in our marriage. Sure we took the vow to care for each other, in sickness and in health and all that, but actually letting ourselves put that promise into practice? Nah, we’re both too fucking stubborn for that, aren’t we? Terrified of feeling and being truly vulnerable around each other. The trust that is required for that shit, just isn't there between us, is it?”
“…Fair point. Okay.” Dean reached in his pocket and grabbed the sleeping pill bottle and dry swallowed two pills. “Baby steps, right?”
“Baby steps,” Warren nodded, a soft smile as they locked eyes, momentarily.
Dean shared the look as he smiled softly, “This is totally inappropriate but you looked hot as fuck with the sledge hammer.”
“See, you sound more like yourself, already,” Warren said. “Thank you.”
“I like how unhinged you looked.” Dean leaned against Warren’s shoulder. “It was hot. Also I have never wanted to fuck in the locker room more than when you kept hitting him.”
“Yeah, well, abusive bastards have that effect on me,” Warren breathed. “Especially filthy rapist cunts.”
Dean nuzzled into Warren’s shoulder, “I missed this.”
“Get some rest,” Warren said softly. “It’s a long flight.”
Dean drifted off to sleep mumbling, “I like the way you say cunt. It sounds fancy with you accent.” Thankfully the pills were the specific ones that kept him from dreaming. Having a nightmare a million miles above the earth would have been too much for Dean to handle. He spent the whole flight sleeping against Warren. Warren didn’t sleep, watching over Dean instead.
“That for me?” Dean asked casually.
“If it was, you’d be leaving here tonight in an ambulance too,” Warren smirked, twirling the hammer with a casual callousness Dean wasn’t used to.
“Point taken. Are you here to tell me not to go to the hospital too?” Dean had his car keys in his hand, still debating his next course of action.
“You can if you want, maybe Verona will make this year’s Roulette real interesting by making it for the vacant World Championship then,” Warren grinned, “Although, that would still leave us with some unfinished personal business.”
“I just want this nightmare over with. Not that I don’t appreciate the help out there. He just has the tape and I need that gone.”
“Tonight’s your lucky night then, Sweetness,” Warren smiled. “I finally know where it is.”
Dean’s entire body language changed, eyes widened, “Are you serious?”
“After the way that cocksucker has jerked us around for years, this is not something I’d jerk you around on,” Warren said. “He gave me an address whilst he was being loaded onto the stretcher.”
The impulse to kiss Warren and shove him against the car was plan on dean’s face but he resisted, knew that would only complicate their fucked up situation, “how far is it?”
“You’re not going to like it,” Warren said, “We’ll have to fly out of the country.”
Dean’s shoulders slumped, “Oh fuck me. Of course it is. Wait… we’ll? You’re… coming?”
“Of course, Sweetness. This feels a little more important than our marital problems. He fucked with me too, remember? Trying to convince me it was consensual and not forced…not rape. I need to see justice done. I need some closure too.”
Dean struggled with words for a moment, trying to figure out what to say, “Sure, yeah that makes sense. Uh, thank you.” Dean pulled out his phone looking for local flights, “Where are we going?”
“Glagow, Scotland,” Warren frowned. “Right into the viper’s nest. One more way to fuck with you, I’m guessing.”
“I was beginning to think you were going to sleep through all the fun. Did you have a good nap on the plane?”
Dean shook his head to try to get the voice out of his head, “It’s what he enjoyed. There’s a red eye in an hour unless you have something to do?”
“Nothing is more important to me than this, right now,” Warren said. “We’ll call Dawn and Shea on the way, they can alternate looking after Damien for however long we’re both out of the country. Do you want me to come with you or should we make our own way separately to the airport?”
“It will be cheaper if only one of us paid for parking but I get it if you need to grab some things first.”
“I do need to, as well as secure my bike,” Warren said. “ You could come with me, and we will go to the airport together afterwards.”
“Sure.” Dean agreed, he had a bug-out bag in the trunk of the car left over from his pack days. Never knew when you needed to leave.
Warren’s new motorcycle was something of a surprise to Dean, as they walked across the parking lot towards it. “A beauty, isn't she?” Warren smiled. “Dr Griffiths insisted I show myself some love, so I treated myself for Valentine’s this year.” Warren deposited the hammer back into the bike’s storage trunk and handed Dean his spare helmet.
“Wasn’t aware you liked motorcycles.” Dean mentioned as he put on the helmet, trying to calm his heart down from the idea of holding onto Warren’s waist. It didn’t mean anything. None of this meant anything more than ending the traumatic saga and ending the power Uriel had held over them for years now.
“One of the few non-wrestling passions I shared with Spike,” Warren put his helmet on, lowering the visor. “Used to ride more when I was a teen, just like he did.”
They rode first to the local hotel. Warren left the bike secured in the parking garage and took a moment to message Dawn and Shea in a group chat as he collected his stuff from the room to check out. Told them to look after Damien because he and Dean were headed out of town for a few days. Dawn sent a text back, promised to spoil Damien and set up plans with Shea.
Dean waited for Warren outside of his room, not wanting to enter. A separation meant he kept himself from being near a bed and his husband. As much as Dean could convince himself sometimes that he was over Warren, touching him made it hard to ignore the amount he longed for him.
“It’s alright, you know? I won’t bite,” Warren smiled. The distance Dean kept as Warren packed his bags had not gone unnoticed.
“Yeah, but I do.” Dean tried to look at everything else in the room but the bed. “And being close to you and a bed could lead to places.”
“Only if I let it,” Warren gathered some toiletries and packed them with his clothes and comics. “Your desirability is not your fault, nor is it irresistible, Sweetness. Mutual consent is important, no matter what your abusers told you.”
“I just don’t want to fuck things up further than I already have.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “I am sorry I went low. I was so angry at you I just …it didn’t make it okay. I’m sorry. You don’t have to forgive me obviously just wanted you to know I wish I hadn’t said it.”
“Thank you for the apology and for recognizing fault,” Warren said softly. “I guess we both went a little harder at each other than we expected, and as much as it hurt me and as much as I could apologies for my part, I know we’ll probably just throw down again next time we have to face each other. I wish there were lines you hadn’t crossed, just like I haven’t but there’s nothing I can do about it now. You said what you said to get in my head and keep your title, and got the job done like you always do.”
“Yeah.” Dean admitted, “I wish I could go back to the guy who didn’t care about the titles. Therapist thinks … sorry, that sounds like excuses. I’m still sorry but the why doesn’t matter. I hurt you for something stupid.”
“Least you probably made your father proud, he always did love slapping down Kanes,” Warren said bitterly, as he zipped up his suitcase.
“I don’t think of you as Kane. I think of you as my husband. As for whether he’s proud of me or not… well, you should really rewatch that last couple promos he cut on me.” Dean laughed dryly. “It’s whatever.”
“I try not to watch overhyped egomaniacs whenever possible,” Warren said, phone pressed to his ear as he tried to get through to a local cab company.
Dean waited for Warren to get the cab situated as he bought the airplane tickets on his phone. He figured it was the least he could do after everything. He got them First Class and while it meant sitting near each other it was at least some level of comfort to have to go in the tin can in the sky. Dean hated flying. Usually he took a sleeping pill or got a little drunk to handle it. But he’d quit drinking. And every drug tasted like whatever Uriel had slipped him, even from a fresh bottle. So he had to prepare himself to raw dog the anxiety and the fear the old fashioned way.
Warren arranged the cab with the grace and efficiency of someone used to traveling and a life on the road, gave the hotel address and the airport destination, The cab took fifteen minutes to arrive. It was already going to be a long night but they were committed to this now, the first time in years that they had been truly united on anything, and it was in the personal and professional destruction of Uriel Black.
Dean readjusted his bugout bag over his shoulder as they walked down to the lobby. “I booked us in First Class. Hope you don’t mind being stuck with me for a few hours.”
“Honey, we’re still married. Technically that means being stuck with you is a life choice,” Warren smiled as he opened the cab door for Dean. “Grace before beauty.”
Dean laughed, slid into the cab back seat, “Thanks, love.”
The anxiety about being in the plane was already starting as they drove to the airport. Dean’s leg bounced as he tried to think of literally anything other than the statistics of plane crashes.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Warren whispered, intuitively. He knew when Dean was anxious, the involuntarily leg bounce was a clear tell. He took Dean’s hand, squeezed firmly. “They’re safer than you think, besides if we die, we die together. But we've made it this far flying around the world with IWF, we’re going to be okay, trust me.”
Dean felt his heart flip at the feel of holding Warren’s hand but his leg stopped bouncing, “Sorry. I know. I just hate flying.”
“I know, Sweetness,” Warren said softly, “I know.”
Dean looked at Warren and squeezed his hand, “Thank you… for this.”
The cab pulled up to the airport quicker than Dean would have liked. He wasn’t sure if it was the anxiety or just not wanting to let go of Warren’s hand.
Warren let go to pay the fare. They then left the cab quickly, hauled through the airport, Warren checked flight detail confirmation with Dean. It was last minute and not a flight they could afford to miss. As they went through security and customs with their bags checked in and made it to the gate just in time to board.
Dean took a deep breath, “Okay. Okay.” He followed Warren through the line to get on the plane. They’d have the tape and all this would be over soon.
As they sat down Dean was slightly happy to see that First Class was mostly empty. He let Warren have the window seat. He let his arm brush Warren’s as they waited for the take off. Warren didn’t notice or didn't object, it was hard to say. Dean never was great at reading him.
Dean gripped the arm rest tight as the plane took off trying to stay grounded in the present and not worse case scenarios, “Rawdogging this sucks.”
“You could take something,” Warren offered. “Sleeping pills?”
“I haven’t been able to take drugs in years.” Dean admitted softly, “Like I tried the ones I’m prescribed for, you know, the crazy but I uh… I always freak out after tasting them.”
“If it would help, you should take some pills,” Warren said. “I'm with you, if you lose it. You don't have to face it all alone, anymore.”
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of the fact you’re here.” Dean admitted softly, “I don’t want you to resent me and have to take care of me because I’m such a little bitch about planes.”
“And there it is,” Warren sighed. “One of the key roadblocks in our marriage. Sure we took the vow to care for each other, in sickness and in health and all that, but actually letting ourselves put that promise into practice? Nah, we’re both too fucking stubborn for that, aren’t we? Terrified of feeling and being truly vulnerable around each other. The trust that is required for that shit, just isn't there between us, is it?”
“…Fair point. Okay.” Dean reached in his pocket and grabbed the sleeping pill bottle and dry swallowed two pills. “Baby steps, right?”
“Baby steps,” Warren nodded, a soft smile as they locked eyes, momentarily.
Dean shared the look as he smiled softly, “This is totally inappropriate but you looked hot as fuck with the sledge hammer.”
“See, you sound more like yourself, already,” Warren said. “Thank you.”
“I like how unhinged you looked.” Dean leaned against Warren’s shoulder. “It was hot. Also I have never wanted to fuck in the locker room more than when you kept hitting him.”
“Yeah, well, abusive bastards have that effect on me,” Warren breathed. “Especially filthy rapist cunts.”
Dean nuzzled into Warren’s shoulder, “I missed this.”
“Get some rest,” Warren said softly. “It’s a long flight.”
Dean drifted off to sleep mumbling, “I like the way you say cunt. It sounds fancy with you accent.” Thankfully the pills were the specific ones that kept him from dreaming. Having a nightmare a million miles above the earth would have been too much for Dean to handle. He spent the whole flight sleeping against Warren. Warren didn’t sleep, watching over Dean instead.
Well howdy there pardner.