"Whatever you're looking for, it's not in here."

"I didn't come in here to pick a fight."

The man snorted then smirked. "Coulda fooled me."

"I knew this was a fucking mistake."

Rob sighed and ran his fingers through his loose, damp hair. "What do you want Brock?"

"To talk." Brock replied.

"You want to talk to me?"

Brock nodded.

"Why? About what?"

"About what Heyman said tonight."

"I think I'll pass, thanks."

"Is it true?" Brock asked a little nervously.

"Is what true?"

"Did he exploit you?"

Rob laughed bitterly. "The things he made me do give a new meaning to the word exploit."

Brock felt a familiar uneasy feeling settle in his stomach. "Things...he made you do?"

"Yeah." Rob replied standing up. "Look, I said I didn't want to talk about this."

"Do you need a lift back to the hotel?"

"No offense but I'd rather hitchhike than accept a lift from you and your...agent."

"He's not offering." Brock said. "I am."

Rob hesitated for a few long moments then nodded slowly. "Okay...alright, let's go."

"Just let me get my stuff. Wait here."

"Wait here." Rob muttered. "Wait here, like I'm his fucking..."

"Ready." Brock said when he reappeared in the doorway.

"Lead the way."

Brock nodded slightly.

Rob sighed and followed him. It was going to be a long night.

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the air thick with nervous tension. Neither man dared to make eye contact or say a word.

It was Brock who finally broke the deafening silence. "He makes me do things too."

Rob looked over at the larger man startled. Not just the words but the way they were spoken frightened Rob.

Soft spoken and Brock Lesnar did not exactly fit in the same sentence...until now.

"Wh...what does he make you do?" Rob whispered.

"Drugs, mostly steroids."

"He got me hooked on heroine then use to shoot me up so I'd do things he wanted..."

"Did he make you whore yourself?" Brock asked quietly as he kept his eyes on the road.

"Yeah." Rob whispered and looked out the window. He had no idea why he'd just admitting to that.

"Me too."

"Why don't you get away from him?"

"It's not that easy." Brock replied. "You should know that."

"I know it's not..." Rob whispered as their eyes met. "But you should try, I mean you're a big guy, use that to your advantage."

"It's too late for me. I owe him everything, maybe more, and believe me, this is one time where my size is not in my favor. He has too much control over me. He made me, he can and will destroy."

"He did not make you." Rob replied. "You made yourself. You're a talented wrestler."

"You really think that or are you bullshitting me because you're afraid I'll beat the fuck out of you if you say something I don't like?"

Rob chuckled nervously. "I really think that."

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

"So, how did you do it?" Brock asked.

"Do what?"

"Get away from Heyman."

"One day, I realized it had to end." Rob said quietly. "So, I got my hands on a gun, pointed it at his crotch and told him if he ever came near me again, I'd shoot his fucking balls off."

"And that worked?" Brock whispered.

"Not until I lodged a bullet in his shoulder the next week."

Brock pulled into an empty space in the hotel parking lot, put the car in park and looked at Rob. "You..."

"Shot Heyman? Yeah. See, apparently he thought I was kidding. One night he sneaked into my room and tried to shoot me up. I grabbed my gun, we struggled, it went off and he got hit in the shoulder. I managed to get the gun away from him and was about to make good on my threat when he literally crawled out of my room bleeding and swearing never to come near me again."

"Wow."

"If I did it, I know you can." Rob whispered.

"I wish I could believe that."

"Why can't you?"

"It's complicated."

"Are you sharing a room with him tonight?" Rob asked.

Brock nodded.

"Why don't you come with me and share my room? I have a spare bed."

"I...thanks."

"No problem."

Those were the last words spoken as they two men climbed out of the car, grabbed their things and headed into the hotel.

Rob checked them in then the two made their way upstairs and to their room. He unlocked the door and they stepped inside, each of them setting their bags down.

"Rob?" Brock whispered.

"Yeah?" Rob whispered.

"Thanks again."

"Why do you keep thanking me?"

"Because no one's ever been this nice to me before."

"It's no big deal." Rob shrugged. "I'm gonna turn in since I showered at the arena."

"Okay." Brock said as he grabbed a pair of boxers from his duffel bag and headed for the bathroom.

Rob took off his shoes and pants then climbed into bed. He sighed as he stared at the closed bathroom door. He actually felt sorry for Brock. He knew what it felt like to be controlled...but he also knew what it felt like to break free.

He silently promised himself to help Brock do just that.

*~*End*~*