Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't sue me. They belong to WWE.
Note: I'm still working on Dean being ill and swatting around a couple ideas for Roman, but this popped up, hope you all enjoy it.
DSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSR
Seth was just coming into the hotel when he heard Stephanie calling his name.
"Seth, can I ask you to help me with something?"
"Sure, Steph," Seth had always liked Stephanie, even before he joined The Authority. The woman could be a heartless bitch when it came to business, but outside of it, she'd become like an older sister to him.
"I need you to look in on Ambrose. He shot the PSA today and he was looking pretty rough by the time we'd finished."
Seth paled, he'd forgotten about that, Dean had been asked to do a PSA about the need for willing, qualified foster parents. The problem was that it made Dean remember a lot of things that Seth knew his friend had been trying to forget. He and Roman had talked about one of them being at the hotel when Dean was done, so he wouldn't be by himself, but his flight had been stuck circling the airport.
"I know you guys are still making up, but Roman's radio interview has run over, and I'm not sure I would be very comforting to him. So I was wondering…"
Seth held up a hand, "I'm on it, Steph, don't worry. What's his room number?" He hurried to the elevator, stopping only briefly at his room to drop off his luggage before hurrying to Dean's room.
The door was slightly ajar, probably for Roman, who could never get the key card to work, so Seth knocked once before pushing the door open.
"Dean?" He spied his friend laying on his bed, clutching a pillow. To someone who didn't know, it would look like Dean was asleep, but Seth knew better; Dean was awake and hurting.
He toed off his shoes, padded over to the bed and ran a hand over Dean's tangled curls. "Hey, I-" His words froze in his throat when Dean raised his head.
Dean was a mess. His eyes were red, swollen, and glassy with unshed tears and there were tear streaks down his face. Suddenly, Seth realized that he wasn't looking at Dean Ambrose, tough as nails badass and terror of the WWE, he was looking at Jonathan Good, the child of a criminal and a prostitute, who'd had to grow up way too fast and had never had a stable place to call home, and still bore the scars, physical and mental.
Seth crawled onto the bed and opened his arms, "C'mere." He pulled his friend close and kissed his forehead. "Let it out, it's okay. I gotcha." He stroked his friend's back, shushing the almost silent sobs and whimpers Dean made, his tears soaking Seth's shirt, probably ruining it, but Seth didn't care.
He wasn't sure how long they'd laid there when Roman finally came in. The look on the Samoan's face was heartbreaking, he'd apparently also forgotten that the PSA shoot was today. Roman took off his shoes and crawled onto the bed behind Dean and wrapped his arms around both of them, pressing his own kiss to Dean's head.
When Dean felt ready, they'd call room service, watch some TV, and talk about today, but for right now, all Dean needed was to know that his brothers were there, that they loved him, and that they would be there when he needed them the most. That's what brother were for.
The End
Note: Jonathan Good is Dean Ambrose's real name. The things said about his parents are true as far as I know and are based off of his promos both as Dean Ambrose and as Jon Moxley. I do not know if he was ever in foster care in his real life.
