NOTE: This fic was originally posted on AO3. Since I'm posting the whole thing here at once, I won't remove the Chapter notes or add new ones.
Notes: This is going to be a long road! I must say that I've never written any fan fiction before but I'm no strange to writing.
This fic popped into my mind as a character study after reading an interview on a website the same day I watched the Raw with the Shield reunion. The idea wouldn't leave me alone and it gave me a lot to think about. I actually sat down and wrote a very rough draft of it that I never intended on posting anywhere. However it kept going around in circles in my mind and I knew I had to re-read said draft and it just grew into this first part.
It organically grew to the point that my mind flowed with ideas for a second part which is yet to be written since it kind of conflicts me to do so (you'll get it as the story goes on). Overwhelmed will finally be 3-4 chapters long and they will be up fast since they're just pending my picky edition. Apologies for my tags being vague, they will be added as the story progresses. I just don't want to give up what's coming! ;)
EXTRA apologies for the formatting, it looks horrible once moved here from Word. I'll keep trying to fix it. Please read with an open mind and remember that this is just fiction. Thanks for your time! IMPORTANT: Cursive is for flashbacks. Bonus tip, flashbacks are partial scenes of what will come on Part 2 of As Long As We Know The Truth!
Chapter warnings: Explicit recreational drug and alcohol use, talk about depression, harassment, crude language and graphic death threats.
Chapter 1
Chapter Text
Monday, October 9th, 2017
Day
The Shield's reunion on Monday Night Raw was supposed to be a sweet, memorable moment for the three members of the unit. Fans had been demanding them to get back together for years and finally, the WWE pulled the trigger on the reunion once they realized how over Dean and Seth were as a tag team.
If that angle had worked so well, reuniting the three hounds of justice had money written all over it on a neon sign and capital letters. And it was also an obvious attempt to get Roman over in time for the main event of Wrestlemania.
Dean Ambrose would never admit on the multiple interviews he went through that day and would go through the next day that for him it was overwhelming to say the fucking least.
Emotions threatened to overtake him from the moment the first call made his phone ring and vibrate like crazy. Dean could barely register Renee's voice from the bathroom telling him to answer his phone, she was already getting ready to go have breakfast before her work journey started.
He had gotten to the hotel past 1 AM and it had taken him a good couple hours to relax and finally fall asleep after a long flight and a four-hour drive after performing all weekend so he was already exhausted.
Sleepy blue eyes attempted to flutter open and quickly shut again when the sunlight entering the room plus all the lights Renee had turned on hit him. Dean slapped himself a couple times and cleared his throat before he blindly reached for his phone on the nightstand. It was 8:47 AM. "Fuck." he rasped and finally tapped on the answer button to get rid of the first international call of the day. Some Australian podcast.
This was one of his least favorite parts of his job, going through several short phone interviews where the same questions were repeated again and again to start a day he didn't feel ready for. He gave random, vague responses he didn't even think through and a couple heated sentences to hype the next Raw show.
At some point and already out of bed, he drank a cold coffee that Renee brought him almost an hour ago before she left to go to the arena and prepare for the show. The accompanying omelet was cold and felt like it was made of plastic instead of eggs, tasting not much better than the brick-like toast next to it on the plate. He chewed on it all in a hurry between questions anyway.
Are we going to see a Shield reunion tonight? Are you speaking to Roman again after the pie incident? Are you worried that Seth is going to betray you again? How does it feel to be reunited with him again? You trust him? What does Renee think about this, is she excited for you?
Just before 12 PM, he hung up the last promotional call of the morning.
After checking out of his hotel room, he sat on one of the modern chairs in the hall and waited for Seth to come down, and the fucker took forever as usual. "Don't know how the fuck you take so long to get ready if your hair still looks like a rats nest. Dude, seriously." He chuckled at the exasperated sigh from his teammate, who mouthed a very clear 'Fuck you' while glaring at him.
"Said the one who's bald as fu-" was his friend's greeting, which he didn't even bother to finish as he approached the reception to do his own check-out while carrying way more suitcases than a guy could need for a four day period.
"One of these days you gonna go bald man, dying your hair every couple weeks like a girl." Dean teasedleaning against the bathroom door frame, his weight supported by his elbow. "Already looks like a cheap whore's you know? Those who will do you a full service for 10 bucks and come in their ass fo-." He barely dodged the empty bleach bottle aiming to hit his face. "How much would you charge me for a-" The heavy wooden brush he wasn't able to dodge in time and hit him straight on the nose. "Fuck! Don't PMS on me dude." He said rubbing his hand against his nose but he couldn't help but grin amidst the pain. "That fucking hurts.".
"And you deserve every bit of it." A proud smirk replaced the initial annoyance on Seth's features. "Sucks but you gotta stand out somehow man. I'm not some huge Samoan and if there's anything you can find in WWE it's dark long-haired dudes. What would you do if you were in my position?"
Dean's laughter echoed in the room. "I'd just wrestle in my jeans." He ran his hands over his chest and waist seductively, unable to stop snickering. "People would miss this body, but isn't that what that personal branding shit is all about?"
Seth snorted and shook his head as he stood up from his seat on the bathtub's border to start the water, needing to wash the dye off already. "The worst part of it is that you'd probably get away with it and guys all over the world will wanna save the world in a pair of fucking jeans." He teased before dropping his butt on the toilet seat and dodged the hotel soap Dean threw at him. "C'mere Deano." he gestured his friend to come closer. "Check for any missing patches?"
Dean scrunched his nose when the smell of the bleach mix was just below him. "Gonna accuse you of attempted murder man, that fucking stinks…" he muttered but still bent down and lifted some strands with his fingers, inspecting the job. "Nah, you'll be fine, just bald soon." he muttered before going straight to wash his hands.
Seth just rolled his eyes and rose wordlessly to go towards the bathtub. "You know karma is a fucking bitch do ya?" He bent over and started washing the dye off, but Dean could tell by the way his body was shaking that he was trying not to laugh out loud. A comfortable silence set for a while in the room until the running water stopped. "Besides, who're you to talk? If there's someone fucking balding in here it's you, your hairline is all over the internet dude."
If it was only his hairline the fucking internet talked about…
It was just the start of the Shield back then.
Dean shook the memory away and allowed himself to grin for a moment. It immediately turned into a low chuckle as he watched how Seth quickly removed the elastic band holding his hair together. While the receptionist assisted him, long fingers raked through the dark wavy mane to tie it up again in an even messier high bun than before. "Mmmm yeah that's it, now instead of a rats nest it's some kind of hairy dog rat was rolled around your hair. Good job kiddo!"
Ambrose rose to his feet and grabbed his backpack and suitcase before Seth had a chance to reply to his banter. Both had spotted their producer, who was making signals for them to leave. They had a day full of events and appearances ahead of them.
The day didn't get any easier.
When they finally got to the arena, Dean was a dangerous mix of exhausted and on edge at the same time.
Once all performers were at the arena, Dean and Seth went into the stage to rehearse the opening segment for the night's show. Roman, Sheamus, Cesaro and The Miz were there already, hearing the instructions and trying to memorize the bullet points they'd been given by the writer in charge. Something was wrong there, but Dean was too tired to stop and give it any further thought.
They built the segment and made modifications and little changes until the writer was happy with the result and then they all headed to catering to have a late lunch.
Laughter welcomed them there as all performers and workers had formed a circle around Goldust, who had a bright yet sad smile plastered on his lips. He was telling some Dusty stories and was handing slices of a huge birthday cake. Of course, he was honoring his father as his birthday would have been in a couple days.
It was always weird, how everybody had a lump in their throat backstage but the memories were just too fond and they all knew that what he would have wanted was this, to be remembered with a smile. Dusty was as missed as he was loved especially by those who worked with him on developmental.
Dean took the slice he was given and looked around to find himself a seat after patting Goldust on the shoulder and flashing him a smile. Seth and Roman followed him shortly to the table he picked and they ate in silence, all of them nervous for different reasons.
His gaze roamed from one teammate to the other. The three members of the Shield couldn't be any more different.
Roman's attention was solely focused on his food until he finished the last bite, then he sat back on his chair and before he could open his mouth to talk he had to go back to answering phone interviews. He was chill but his face and body language showed he was very nervous about the reunion.
Seth on the other hand, looked absorbed by some game he was playing on his phone and cursed whenever he lost, going back to pick on his food whenever there was a pause on it and chewing absently as he dived back into the game. He was obviously distracted and he would probably keep building up tension as the clock kept ticking.
Dean didn't feel hungry at all, but just ate silently, trying to relax in the comfortable silence between them all and barely paying any attention to the buzz and noise in the catering room.
His peace didn't last long, as the rest of the afternoon would be spent trying to comfort Renee.
She received all kind of disturbingly sick death threats and insults on a daily basis, but the backlash she was getting after sharing a funny picture with Dolph Ziggler on Instagram a few days before had escalated to the point where the word 'unacceptable' couldn't quite cover it. So much that he found himself paralyzed by anger when Seth and Cesaro found and dragged him to the make-up stand, where the Glam Squad and a few other superstars were trying their best to deal with her finally breaking down.
Everything seemed to be getting out of hand and they still had to get out there and perform, face the WWE universe again and hope they wouldn't turn on them for joining Roman again.
It was supposed to be a fantastic day, but Dean was overwhelmed.
Because wrestling may be fake but the struggles, the exhaustion and what the performers put themselves through are so real that sometimes it was just too much at the end of the day. Sacrificing their relationships, their safety, their future. While wrestlers acted following a script, the energy in every arena, the crowds, the noise, the lights, the breathing, the bumps, the pain and soreness they felt all day long were real, very real.
The heartbreak, the loneliness, the physical and emotional pain that wasn't showed onscreen were fucking real. The woman in his arms struggling to gasp for air as she sobbed uncontrollably was fucking real.
Unfortunately for them, some fans were unable to tell between what was real and what wasn't and they had feared for their lives more than once due to obsessed fans stalking and attacking them. They had endured aggressions, stalking, insults, stalking their families and partners…
And Dean was fucking scared that one day something would happen to Renee. She didn't deserve that shit. Nobody did.
Some people said it came with the salary and being a public figure. The cost of fame.
Following their logic, if a woman wore a short skirt would it be ok to rape her because her clothes weren't making it a difficult task? Just because you appear on tv on a weekly basis, does it mean people have a right to open your trash can, trespass your house, follow you wherever the fuck you go? If they had public jobs, did it mean they should shut the fuck up and be ok with people hacking their phones and computers and sharing their private pictures, information or conversations?
As the people who had gathered around Renee left them alone for privacy, Dean noticed that Seth lingered there, looking conflicted and like he wanted to say something.
It was a very important night for Seth and Dean knew it.
He couldn't help the guilt from creeping up his spine and settle on his throat, aware that this wasn't fair, that his friend deserved to enjoy this, the last stage of his 'Redesign, Rebuild, Reclaim' slogan. Seth fell down from the top of the world, burned to the ground.
Rollins had worked so hard to come back to the ring after his injury, kept kayfabe as much as he could as he continued hiding his friendship with his Shield teammates, struggled with the slow, sometimes plain shit booking that led to his feud with Triple H until it finally grew organically and exploded in Wrestlemania. He'd endured the backlash received again after injuring Finn Balor during their match for the Universal Championship, night after night of no reactions at all from the crowd and the boos and disinterest from fans during his feud with Bray Wyatt.
While he was still over during his turn, the reactions to his new babyface persona weren't good enough and his career was lacking direction. And then, finally, after a plot swerve nobody had seen coming, a smirking Jimmy Jacobs informed them they were going to work together again, but this time it would be a story of redemption, of forgiveness.
Things started to change when WWE hinted to the fans that they were going to carry a new storyline that would end up with them crowned as tag team champions at SummerSlam. It felt amazing and absolutely overwhelming, the crowd reactions and the energy of the moment. Dean felt so excited about it that it had calmed him somehow, it felt right and he was back to having exciting matches and a storyline that motivated him.
Then it only took a few weeks for them to be informed that Vince had decided to add the struggling to get over Roman to the mix and reform the Shield to try and shift the crowd reactions coming this way, trying to rebuild him as what Vince McMahon wanted in time for a huge feud against Brock Lesnar on the road to Wrestlemania. Which brought them to that week's show.
Blue eyes pleaded helplessly at Seth for something Ambrose wasn't even sure what it was. Seth bit on his lower lip and looked down at Dean apologetically before he turned around and left the area, allowing the couple some privacy. He didn't need to speak for Dean to know that the hint of guilt on his gaze came from having read the messages and seem the pictures that hurt Renee so deeply.
Dean felt at a loss of words, boiling with anger as he held his wife. She insisted he took a look at them, unable to form any full words between sobs. He took the phone from her hand, keeping a protective arm around her shoulders and holding her close as he scrolled through some of the comments and messages full of bile and threats until he couldn't take it anymore upon seeing a picture of an actual corpse and blocked her phone's screen.
Half of these messages called her a whore as the smallest insult she would receive and the rest was divided between 'He's fucking Seth/Roman/me his only true love' and 'it's just a storyline, you're not even together you're with Ziggler/Graves/Roman/etc', guys sending her dick pics claiming 'they would give them what their homo husband couldn't' and actual death threats. Some of these messages went as far as to send ultraviolent pictures and stuff so sick he had to make an effort not to vomit.
Renee was a strong, amazing and confident woman that Dean loved so much it hurt, but there was so much she could take. There was so much they could take.
On top of that, he could hear his coworkers around again, talking about how they had just been informed that Jimmy Jacobs had just been fired by WWE after posing for a photo with the Bullet Club when they tried to invade Raw a few weeks ago. Dean and Jimmy had been friends for a long time and he took it as one more blow to deal with that day.
The show would start in two hours, and at that point nobody could convince Dean that it was going to be a good night.
Things were getting to a point where Dean didn't even try and fool himself into not thinking he was falling downhill into a depression and there was no safety net to stop the fall.
He was struck with an anxiety he'd last felt while he was still in the indies after living fueled only by speed and booze for days in a row. The difference is that he was not on that anymore but the paranoia, insomnia, twitchiness and the irritability he had almost forgotten about were back full force.
Dean wouldn't stop losing weight and didn't seem to be able to gain it or put on muscle no matter how hard he trained and how much he tried to eat, which wasn't much. He felt his hair thinning at an alarming rate by the day and just couldn't be bothered to do something as simple as shaving or keeping himself groomed. He knew his face looked bloated and reddened, his eyes had lost their usual intense spark and he constantly looked sick, exhausted.
He'd stopped giving a fuck about looking good and in fact a part of him wanted to disgust those obsessed with him in hopes the obsession and harassment would stop. He even caught himself more than once thinking that he didn't care if Renee found him attractive or not anymore. The legendary Jon fucking Moxley didn't want to party anymore and just grudgingly accepted to attend shows or bars with Renee sporadically because it wasn't fair to her. He just wanted to stay at home to avoid being followed around the streets.
He was starting to fear every time Renee was alone or left the house and their relationship was starting to suffer the consequences. Anything was as good an excuse as any to have a drink.
The only positive influence at the moment was teaming with Seth again. It was keeping him somewhat grounded. Travelling with him meant he stuck to his strict discipline and kept himself busy and exhausted to the point of falling asleep as soon as he hit the bed most days when he was touring with him.
He would have probably been suspended already by WWE if Renee wasn't trying her best to have some normalcy into their lives and to keep an eye on him no matter how much she was hurting.
"'ere, roll this for me, gonna get more beer." he snuck a chunk of marijuana on his friend's hand and dropped a small metal grinder on his lap. After many beers accumulated on the coffee table and lots of catching up to do due to their different schedules, both were a bit drunk and relaxed.
"Fucker! Straight to my dick, can't you aim anywhere else?" An annoyed groan followed but Seth was already working on breaking down the bud before grinding it. "I can't even fucking smoke this anymore on NXT, don't wanna get suspended." He bit his lower lip as his fingers mixed the resulting product with a pinch of tobacco before carefully setting it on a long paper.
Seth threw the half-empty cigarette pack to Dean who had just returned and taken a seat next to him. "Roll me a filter." he muttered as he brought his beer to his lips. "You shouldn't either, you know you're gonna be called up soon. You're not performing now besides a couple house shows but you will eventually have to and you wanna be clean man. Thanks." he said when Dean handed him the small cardboard cylinder and the brunette expertly rolled the joint. He shot Dean a glance as he licked the glued strip on the paper to lock it and pressed it a bit before handing it to his friend.
Dean placed the joint loosely between his lips and brought his lighter's flame close to lit it. "Honestly? Gonna miss this. That is, if I ever make it to the main roster or NXT." he exhaled the smoke, a content sigh escaping his lips despite his bitter words. He was comfortable, hadn't hung out like this with Seth for a while as he had been touring with the main roster to perform on dark matches lately. "Ya miss it?" another drag at the joint, deeper this time. Curious blue eyes turned towards the high flyer as he held the smoke inside his chest before he blew it all over Seth, unable to hold a chuckle.
Seth let himself fall to his side against the couch's arm as he made exaggerated movements with his arms to try and dissipate the smoke, laughing all the while. "Damn right I do! But you better stop trying to make me fail the drug tests to try and snatch my place." He took another sip of his beer and rose to his feet, sobering up a bit as he opened the window to clear the air, already thick with the mix of smoke and the warm, humid weather.
The NXT champion looked very young, a longing, almost insecure smile settling on his features as he seemed to think what to say next as he flopped down on the couch again next to Dean. "FCW was weird times, but I kinda miss it sometimes. I… guess I miss hanging out like this. It was fun man."
Dean coughed a bit as laughter sent the smoke straight up his throat. "'Cooooourse you miss me that much, I'm that special." he cooed and threw an arm around his friend's shoulders, almost crushing him against his own shoulder for a playful hug and laughing again at the mock disgust on Seth's face. He didn't move away immediately though, his eyes sliding shut for a moment as he inhaled the smell of the joint and licked his lips. He only pulled away when it was obvious in his face that he really wanted to risk it and smoke a bit himself. "Nah I get it Seth, it was cool. Ya think we'll do well when we get called up? I mean dude, we're fucking it, period. But you always gotta wonder with the booking and shit…"
Seth waved it off. "The way I see it, we're bound to do great shit. You and I, we're the fucking future of the WWE so they better treat us like we deserve." Arrogant as ever.
Ambrose laughed again, so hard he had to leave his beer on the table and the joint on the ashtray to avoid an accident. "Said the company's golden boy! Do I gotta grow my hair for Triple H to call my ass up as well?"
This time Seth joined in the laughter and it was him who threw an arm around Dean's shoulder to bring him closer. When both stopped laughing, there was an intense gleam in his brown eyes and a cocky smile on his lips as he held Dean's gaze. "Hear my words Deano. You and I, we're gonna take WWE to new heights. We gonna break the internet, gonna get the biggest pops of our generation, everybody will wish they could see us perform live. The fans are gonna be crazy about us." He poked Dean's chest with a finger. "The noise we made in FCW? That's gonna be nothing compared to the main roster when we take over."
Dean broke their stare and sighed, suddenly a bit overwhelmed with the image his friend's words brought to his mind and the effects of the half-smoked joint relaxing him into a melted human poodle. He tilted his head back until it rested on Seth's shoulder and his body went slack. "Gonna miss this."
He wasn't going to miss the year he'd spent on the sidelines because every legend that the WWE tried to pitch him against to debut him as a big deal on the main roster always needed a surgery or would be unable to compete for any reason. "Only thing I'll miss from this year. I just wanna fuckin' wrestle. Don't give a shit about anything else."
Seth gave him a playful nudge on the ribs and picked up his beer again. "A toast for the biggest stars of our generation!" he announced holding the bottle up.
"Toast for the best!"
Dean tried not to google himself too often since any searches would provide pictures and videos of himself and his Shield brothers, but mostly Seth due to their whole onscreen history and feuds.
It went so far that if he tried to google himself the word 'Ambrollins' would appear as a suggestion on the browser before his own name and before he finished typing it. Clicking on it would result all the time on the same as clicking on his own name. Pictures, drawings, videos, book-length stories. Cropped, slowed down, sped up or just plain manipulated gifs with tiny moments where fans thought they saw something sexual. Actual written stories about them being together: love, hate, sex, humiliation, abuse, rape, torture… even fucking giving birth to babies and being half monsters. Whole pages and forums filled with speculation on their relationship and people treating the topic like it was plain truth. Their first time, their first kiss, full analysis of any interaction between them on camera… He never failed to feel sick when running into that sort of content.
The world seemed to have decided on what his personal story was about and there was nothing in fucking hell he could do against it.
And that wasn't even the worst. His stomach turned every time he saw somebody glorifying online the times when he was so fucking drunk and high while performing that looking back only confirms it's a miracle he's still alive and able to wrestle. How could people get off on him being high as fuck, bleeding like a pig and covered in sweat, bruises, tears and worse? What was the appeal of his drug and alcohol-fueled slurs, the filth he spat out his mouth every time a camera was pointing at him?
Even he didn't see the glamour of that anymore and regretted that these times were probably being what was holding him back from being the proper main eventer he knew he was. A part of him knew it was what made people relate to him, feel free to run over and kind of dump on him their darkest, sickest fantasies.
Dean had always denied reading the stories whenever anyone mentioned them, but he had. Plenty. The first person who ever made him aware of them was Seth, who showed him a few of these stories one night while they were drunk as hell in his hotel room in some lost town. They narrated a couple of them out loud, acting on the dialogue parts and laughing until they couldn't talk anymore. It was easy to joke and have some fun with these, it felt almost innocent at first.
He even felt a small pang of guilt for actually enjoying some of them that he read privately after as a few were quite well written and he always enjoyed a good read. It was easier when these stories used their screen names, physical attributes and bits of the personalities showed on camera but stories completely unrelated to their actual selves. But others… just disturbed him to the point of feeling sick to his stomach in a way he couldn't even put words to.
And Dean Ambrose wasn't a guy to run out of words easily.
He could actually understand where the buzz came from and why some fans felt like that could be their story, he was a creative guy after all and he would run his mouth on a promo about just a feeling or a look. Nor Seth nor he were oblivious to their chemistry either. It was something they both had always used, ran all-in with, in order to create better segments and matches, compelling stories to woo the fans and charm the company. It also got them all the pussy they could ever imagine and more.
It was just so natural that they didn't have to put any effort on it, didn't even need to give it any thought and just flow. And it worked like a charm for years, whether they had to act like the best of friends, brothers, or the bitterest enemies.
They exploited that chemistry in order to further cement their careers and, as businessmen which is what they were at the end of the day, as an easier way to sell merchandise and engage the audience.
None of them realized before it was too late that some people seemed to be unable to tell between real life and tv. Too many stories and beliefs were flowing around the internet, yelled at them during PPVs, events and house shows… They had even been attacked by fucking teenagers who were absolutely obsessed with them. How could people spend a whole night waiting at an airport just to yell at them to fix their issues by fucking or take pictures from afar of their every interaction, trying to expose the supposed romance between them? That had been going on for fucking years until both reunited as a tag team again. But it just got even worse as the obsession and stalking in person and online only got reinforced.
What the fuck could they know if all they had was pictures and videos from segments taken from a scripted tv show? Wasn't it obvious that they were human beings and that whatever happened or didn't happen between them was their story and nobody else's? That being public figures didn't mean they had to open the doors to their homes, lives, privacy? Couldn't they blame some things to just really good acting?
Dean didn't need Seth to say a word to know he felt guilty about how their current reunion storyline had escalated the stalking and pressure to a point he wasn't sure they would be able to handle. He didn't need to speak for Dean to know he had noticed his current state either.
When Jimmy got the approval from Vince to run their forgiveness storyline, it had started as a little inside joke for all of them. They had a hard time not laughing their asses off onscreen more often than not while broadcasting their backstage promos, Seth having to basically pout and act like a sad puppy try to get back into Dean's good graces with the blonde playing hard to get. It was fun, refreshing, and a way to continue their story, something that WWE almost never did. Continuity.
It was also a little mock to the Ambrollins obsession on the internet. They were having so much fun that the energy tore through the screen and the angle was an immense success.
Even Renee participated, letting out her inner fangirl and making ambiguous questions that would make people wonder if they were talking about a tag team or a couple. Everybody had been having a blast with it. It felt innocent, it was fun.
But now, things had just gotten out of control.
After he left a calm yet still a bit shaky Renee with the Glam Squad to go get himself ready for the show, Dean leaned against the nearest wall and felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. If his reunion with Seth caused this, the thought of what could happen once the Shield reunited made him run towards the nearest bathroom to vomit.
Notes: First chapter out! I know it's not an easy read, and not only because it's a long one. I would absolutely LOVE to know what you think of this, if you liked it or not, your thoughts about where it may go from here... Feedback is extremely appreciated! I will try to release the remaining chapters of Overwhelmed on a weekly basis. I hope you enjoy the ride and I'll be back next week :)