After my laughing fit I calmed down, now listening to my music, humming to In The End by Black Vail Brides, soon joining Andy softly with the lyrics. Tapping my fingers against my thigh, staring out the window.

"In the end
As you fade into the night (oh whoa oh oh)
Who will tell the story of your life (oh whoa oh oh)
And who will remember your last goodbye (oh whoa oh oh)
'Cause it's the end and I'm not afraid
I'm not afraid to die.

I'm not afraid, I'm not afraid to die."

"That's really depressing, Drew."

I looked at Jon, turning the music off. He was staring at the road, the radio off, and tapping his fingers against the wheel, I cooed at him. "Awww, you don't like my music?" I shrugged. "Ok."

I changed the song.

"It might seem crazy what I'm about to say
Sunshine she's here, you can take a break
I'm a hot air balloon that could go to space
With the air, like I don't care baby by the way

Uh

Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like a room without a roof
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like happiness is the truth
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you know what happiness is to you
Because I'm happy
Clap along if you feel like that's what you wanna do"

He smiled, chuckling. "So you do have happy songs."

I scoffed. "I only have this because of a video I have." I said as I began dancing a little, clapping my hands, singing.

Jon looked over at me and laughed. "What video."

"Bring me down
Can't nothing
Bring me down
My level's too high
Bring me down
Can't nothing
Bring me down
I said, Dean Ambrose Happy." I said as I sang, moving my shoulders in a fluid motion.

He chuckled. "Having fun?"

I shrugged. "Why you ask."

"You're dancing."

I gave him a confused look. "I am?"

He laughed, nodding.

"Dancing? Hmmm. Um, I don't know that I ever consciously ever incorporated any dancing into my routine. I'm just lost in it." I said somewhat quoting my father.

He chuckled.

Jon's P.O.V.

I listened to Drew as she danced and sang, her music blasting out of her phone.

"Scream, shout
Scream, shout,
We are the fallen angels

We are the in between, cast down as sons of war
Struck to the earth like lightning, on this world we're torn
We won't cause the pain, of living out their law
Take joy in who you are, we know our wings are flawed"

She stopped as she looked out the window and bit her lip, which I have come to realize she does when she's countenance upon her emotions.

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I saw my old house . . ."

I pushed on the breaks and turned around. "Where?"

She pointed to a grey house and I pulled into the driveway. She stared at the house, turning her music off, and slowly got out, sliding to the ground. She slowly approached the white front door. When she found it was locked she walked over to a lantern, opened the little door and pulled a key out, smiling grimly. She went back to the door and slid the key into the hole. There was a click and she gave a small push, the door slowly creaked opened.

A dark hall greeted us and I heard Drew sigh, stepping into the house slowly. I followed her.

Drew's P.O.V

I slowly walked down the hall, the once lively walls still decorated with pictures of me and my Mom. I kept my gaze on the floor, I couldn't stand seeing the pictures, it just brought up memories that would make me cry.

I entered the living room and stopped, looking up, squeezing my eyes shut, looking away as memories of me running around in here with Mom chasing me, trying to love me. She had always got me at some point and hug me, holding me close to her chest, showering me with kisses while I squealed with laughter, trying to get free. I smiled sadly and looked over into the kitchen. The memory of Mom and I throwing flour at each other coming back.

That was a fun day.

I looked up at the staircase, taking a small step towards it. Memory after memory flooding my mind, I closed my eyes, tears seeping through my lids and rolling one by one down my face. When I opened them again I had my hand on the wooden rail, staring up at the top of the steps.

I opened my mouth and released a heavy sigh before I took a step onto the first stair, slowly climbing up the stairwell, too lost in memories to realize I was at the top, I bit my bottom lip before I looked around, finding my room. Approaching the slightly opened door, I pushed it open slowly looking around my old room.

I stared at my poster covered walls, photos littered everywhere in any poster free space, especially around my bed. My electric guitar in the corner. Pictures of Bernadette, Derek, and I hanging out. Me alone, some selfies with my friends and ones of Mom and I. I walked over to my bed crawled into it, sitting on my legs as I stared at the pictures, my tears streaming down, I parted my lips and let out a weak sob.

I wasn't ready for this, I wanted my Mom back.

I ripped off a picture of Mom and I when I was 9, we where at the park, having a mother daughter day. We had our sunglasses on, Mom kneeled down besides me, her arm wrapped around me, both of us smiling into the camera Mom had facing us. It was a great selfie of us together.

I trialed my finger down the edge of my mom's face, tears falling onto the photo, humming the song my mom sang to me when I was crying, like I was right now.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, finally letting out my first real sob, setting the picture down. Feeling arms wrap themselves around my shoulders, I turned around and buried my face into my Dad's black shirt, the whole left side of my face against his body, my nose brushing against the teeth of his zipper on his jacket. I wrapped my arms around his abdomen, my body racked by harsh gasps.

Jon rubbed my back, holding me close. My face contorted with pain, I sobbed into his shirt. I could tell he was trying, and that this was his first time aiding a crying person, but at least he was trying.

"Th-thank you, J-Jon."

"For what?" He muttered.

"Keeping me and not sending me to an orphanage the first time you found out I was your daughter . . ."

He sighed. "I'm too nice to do that . . ."
"But you said once that your different, a bad kind of different . . . how can you be nice and bad at the same time?"

"I'm the lunatic fringe, I'm unpredictable."

"No, you're Jonathan Good WWE actor, wrestler, and most of all my Dad."

I felt Jon tighten his hold on me and sighed, resting his cheek on the top of my head, I opened my eyes and looked up, only able to see the left side of his face. But his eyes where closed and he wore a grim expression.

He cared. I finally realized. He cared about me. He actually cared.

I felt my tears start up again, but not for my mom, not for her death, but for my dad and his shitty life. He had it worse then me when he was younger, was he trying to save me from going down the same path?

I closed my eyes and nuzzled his chest, wishing I had the guts to say four words, four simple words to him, but my fear of him rejecting me and the reality of having Dean Ambrose as my father kept me back. I should be, like, nervous just being by him, but no I was getting hugged by him.

I sighed out loud, thinking of my four words.

'I love you Dad . . .'