Rethinking in the Asylum

Dean bit his nails nervously as he sat on his bed. A full week had passed and he had no word from Punk about the decision yet except or the vague message passed on by busy body Maddox.

"I have news."

The all too simple phrase said nothing to soothe the anxiety as it swam through Ambrose's head. The words came earlier that morning at around nine and it was already noon. Where was Punk? What did he have to tell him? Was it good news? Was it bad?

He huffily moved to pace about the room, ignoring Cesaro's rambling from a bedside stool. The muscle head never seemed to shut up about getting to the gym. No means of persuasion could get Dean to go along with that idea, especially not with the way he physically felt. Something just wasn't right. Anxiety wasn't exactly his only issue.

He was drawn from his thoughts as Antonio called to him. "Look, Ambrose, it'll make you feel better. Twenty squats, a ten minute run; your anxiety will literally melt off."

Pinching his brow, Dean let off a frustrated growl. "No, it won't, Antonio. Okay? It just won't." He directed his stressed features towards the Swiss nurse, rolling his eyes at Antonio's loss of words. Still bandaged hands came to cover Dean's face to further swamp him in his plight. "This anticipation is killing me."

Cesaro twisted his mouth in thought before standing to his feet in determination. "You know, Ambrose. I know exactly what you need."

Dean grunted exaggeratedly and clenched his jaw. "No, I don't need to work out!" He yelled his protest only to be taken aback as hands rested on his shoulders.

"You're right. You don't need that and I don't mean that." The slightly taller nurse looked Ambrose in his abnormally glazed eyes—not thinking much of it— and started to guide him back towards the stool. "What you need is some relief." Forcefully, Cesaro sat Dean down and patted his shoulders. "Now take your shirt off."

Hesitantly Dean mumbled, "But wh-"

"This is my job, right? Your muscles are tense and if anyone can give a good massage, it's Cesaro." Antonio tugged the shirt collar for emphasis and insisted again. "Shirt. Off."

"Fine. Fine. It's going." The patient reluctantly eased the loose tee over his head. Apart of Dean didn't want to protest the demand, the short and sweet thing always doing something to him. Maybe that's why Roman...

Ugh, he didn't want to think about Roman. Or Seth. He swore he wouldn't waste another hormone trip over those two lechers, and their game was officially over when he decided to stop playing. As far as Ambrose was concerned, they were a closed chapter. He already had other things going on in his life.

A short sigh from his own lips called Dean's attention to reality. He opened his eyes only to close them again and take in the feeling. Cesaro actually was working miracles on his shoulders. The firm hands thumbed at his traps, while the soothing warmth from contact helped ease the tension. Ambrose chuckled disbelievingly and breathed out, "Wow, you actually are pretty good at this."

Antonio smirked back prideful and moved further down the middle of Dean's back, taking the time to revel in the smooth texture of skin. Dean's skin was a bit clammy, pale too, but the Swiss man ignored it, passed it off for the anxiety. "See, just what you needed." Cesaro worked his way back to the shoulders and leaned closer to apply more pressure in theory, but to be closer in all honesty. It wasn't like the one little punch from Roman would change his intentions completely. In fact, it made him a little more curious as to why the rival nurse was so enamored by the auburn man. Antonio began to work his way down the chest of Ambrose, marveling at how semi-thick his pectorals were in spite of the lean abdomen that tampered down to Dean's trim waist. That was a bit alluring. Just as his hands were about to move any lower on the pectorals, the door creaked open and Roman sauntered in with Seth at his side.

The four stood amongst the awkward quite that fell until Roman's eyes furrowed down into a scowl. "Oh, so you didn't learn the first time, huh Cesaro?"

"Guess I didn't." Unnerved, Antonio reached down and gave Dean's chest a blatantly exaggerated squeeze.

"We'll let me reteach it to you." Reigns slit his eyes and rolled up his sleeves, all intentions of giving the other more than a black eye this time around. Stalking towards the man, Roman prepared for a fight, but was stopped when Dean stood from the stool with his arms crossed over his chest.

Brusquely, the patient sneered. "Get out."

Seth moved in this time, coming up behind Roman. "Look, Dean, We really need to talk."

"No, Seth, we don't." Ambrose bit back sarcastically. "You both need to leave."

"You heard him, leave." Antonio tossed the demand directly at Roman from his spot behind Dean.

"Cesaro, one day I'm going to wind up getting my hands on you again. Don't let today be that day." The threat from Reigns only caused more commotion and uproar as Antonio began yelling in defense, provoking Roman shouted back. Seth carried on, trying to talk over the two bickering men while Dean ignored every word he could.

The cacophony of voices all bouncing off the wall could be heard many doors down, they were sure, but that was far beyond anyone's concern. Soon after, the door squeaked open and sneakers strolled across the floor. The fighting, however, didn't veer until Ambrose noticed the movement.

Being the first to see the entrant, Dean smiled and threw his shirt back on, shoving past Roman and Seth to excitedly greet his lawyer. Only then did the confrontations truly cease as Roman and Seth's attention diverted. After all, Punk was supposed to have some important news.

Punk sat down his briefcase and cup of coffee, leaning on a table with his legs crossed and palms rested on the top. His gaze stayed to the floor momentarily before coming up to Dean's anticipation. Clearing his throat, Punk nodded to Dean. "I have news." The way Ambrose's eyes lit up made the lawyer scratch his beard uncomfortably as he continued. With a long sigh, Punk folded his arms and attempted to look Dean in the eye. "Based on your interview, the people, having jurisdiction from the judiciary system of this company, have found that..." The man broke, unable to hold contact as he sighed out the last words. "...that you are not yet ready to negotiate release from...this... institution." As the phrase left his lips, the atmosphere became stiff and the livelihood literally melted off of Dean.

"What?"

"Yeah…"

Ambrose blinked in disbelief continuously before forcing choppy laughs. "You're kidding right? Y-you're kidding." Dean twitched uncontrollably as his voice began to rise in anger and confusion. "I don't like these kinds of games, Punk! Tell me this is a joke! A really really bad joke!"

"I wish I could." The lawyer groaned in disappointment and rubbed a hand down his forehead. "I really wish I could."

Ambrose continued to twitch involuntarily, rubbing over his left shoulder and neck sporadically until the rubs turned to scratches, and his hands moved to grip his hair. The man couldn't take this. He just couldn't. Near explosion, he was almost thankful when Roman grabbed his shoulders and forced him to have a seat, whispering for him to calm down. Head in his hands, Dean tapped his foot against the floor loudly as he tried to take everything in.

"So what's gonna happen to Dean?" Rollins worriedly asked. "He can't do another three years in here."

Punk crossed his arms again. "Well he can, but he won't. I'm going to make sure of that when we take this case to trial. I'll make sure we have a fair judge, unbiased jury—"

"Why?" Dean interrupted brashly, getting the group's attention. "I swear, I had him. I had Foley in the palm of my hand. I just knew he'd give me the okay..." Ambrose trailed off in disappointment, staring at the legal man. "What happened?"

Punk sighed and looked away to the floor. "Just trust me, you don't need to know."

Seth defensively stepped in, rubbing Dean's dampened back. He was surprised the man even let him but he supposed anyone would need comfort in this kind of situation. "Punk, I think he has a right to know. Full disclosure."

Punk's eyes shot over to Seth briefly before he forced a rather instructive sounding, "Its better I don't. And when I say he doesn't need to know, he probably doesn't need to—" His statement was cut off as Roman advanced, looming over him imposingly.

"Tell him."

The deep-throated demand made Punk hike his eyebrows up disbelievingly. "Are you...are you actually threatening me?" He laughed and rubbed his temple. "Wow. Fine. Okay." Punk folded his arms and turned to Dean, his face somewhat amused. "Well, you're right. Dr. Foley definitely gave you the okay, no problems there, but Sandow didn't. Usually with that kind of conflict between doctors, they review your record from your previous psyche therapist and nurse." Gesturing to Seth, Punk continued. "Of course Rollins and Reigns said yes in their reports but unfortunately their credibility was completely shot, giving Sandow's decision overriding power."

Dean confusedly pursed his lips. "Their credibility?" Roman and Seth held the same confusion, mumbling against the absurdity.

"Well you see Dean, the day of your interview in question Seth here demolished Sandow's office out of anger and Roman assaulted your nurse Cesaro also out of anger. Because of their deplorable actions, the board questioned the reliability of their opinions. When the two people who were supposed to be treating you can't function, what does that say about you as the patient?" Punk matter-of-factly folded his arms and motioned to the men. "So, realistically, you both caused Ambrose to stay in here." He tucked his lips in and innocently gauged the men's reactions. Just as he expected, Seth and Roman were literally frozen at the accusation. Ambrose was staring between the both of them as disgusted fury boiled over in him, and Cesaro stood back, almost entertained at what they all knew was coming. With his job done, Punk grabbed his briefcase and headed for the door. "So, Dean, we'll talk later about how the next proceedings are going to go. You take care and don't do anything too bad." A wave later and Punk was strolling out the room, closing the door gently in comparison to the rough information he had just dished out.

As everything set in, Reigns scrunched his face up in disappointment, Rollins hitting himself over the forehead in irritation. They couldn't help but wonder what kind of game fate was playing with them. It was like everything that could've gone wrong did. Every. Single. Time. Chancing a glance, Seth and Roman turned to Dean nervously, preparing for some type of lashing- be it verbal or physical. Instead, Ambrose wasn't even looking at them but where Punk once stood. He was completely still, save for the ruthless tapping of his foot.

Antonio, being the middle man, edged towards Dean skeptically. "Ambrose?"

Dean wasted no time in suddenly standing up and walking towards Roman and Seth. "Get out."

"But Dean—" Seth started but Dean advanced on both men, his anger rising with each quickening step.

"Get out!" Ambrose yelled, running up to the doctor and shoving him on the ground. His fists began to swing violently but none of the blows landed on the shorter man; Reigns instead taking the brunt of the hits as he grabbed Dean with constriction. "Get out! Just get out and get away from me!"

"Dean, if you just calm down and listen—"

"No!" Stepping up, Dean's fists balled themselves in Roman's collar. "I'm sick of calming down! I'm sick of listening! And I'm sick of dealing with this!" He shoved the taller man, doing no real damage at all to the large nurse. "I just don't understand!" Sighing heavily, Dean dragged his fists down his face. "What did I ever do to either of you?" Assessing the silence and overall stupefaction from his former caretakers, the patient asked again. "Come on, there has to be something I did that would make you go this far out of your way to ruin my chances of having a life. Was it the all the threats to kill you, Seth? Was it purposely getting in trouble with you, Rome? Was it because I would hit on both of you sometimes? What?"

Again Seth and Roman said nothing, somewhat lost verbally. Unwavering silence embodied the air until Dean's booming yell sliced through. "What?!" Suddenly, Dean dropped to his knees, clenching his stomach firmly. Immediately, all three other men in the room were at his side.

"Ambrose, what's wrong?" Antonio worriedly asked but Roman and Seth were much faster in analyzing the man's condition.

Roman knew what the problem was as soon as he saw Dean breaking into a cold sweat. How could they miss over the signs earlier? The pale moist skin, the glazed over eyes… "Seth, how long has it been?"

Knowingly, Rollins pulled out his phone, pulling up his calendar app. "Yeah, two month's already. A few days over actually."

"I thought I told you not to go so long again," Dean looked up from his discomfort when Roman's worried voice cared an almost angry tone. Easily the man hauled Dean to his feet and carried him out the room, dragging Seth along. When Ambrose thought of protesting, Roman just shot him a menacing sneer that told him to be silent.

Reigns shouldered the patient, towards an empty medical room, dropping him off on the gurney. Something sounded as if it was dropped against the floor, but the small stimulus was ignored for the larger matter at hand. Cautiously, he growled. "Don't. Move." And Dean couldn't help but obey. Roman nodded towards Seth. "You get the patches. Top cabinet. To the left."

Rollins followed Roman, pulling out the material as quickly as possible. When he grabbed a few, he brought them over to the bed by Dean. Roman had already carelessly stripped Dean's shirt off and was plotting where to place the patches. He thought deeply before ordering Seth. "One here on his chest, one on his back, opposite to that one, and another on his arm."

"Isn't that kind of powerful?" The question was asked warningly by the doctor, but Seth didn't stop his application to wait for an answer.

As soon as the first patch was placed on his chest, Dean broke into tremors, his body involuntarily arching in towards the little medicinal pad. His heartbeat sped up with every other patch being placed down until he had to close his eyes to control the laborious breaths. When all three patches were in full affect, Ambrose couldn't fight his need to lie down, biting his lip as he gripped the pillow. Grating whimpers escaped him and he violently clenched his fists tighter in the white pillowcase, trying to take the medicine in. Ugh, it was like each episode of his withdrawal got worse and worse. He got what he needed, which felt great, but he paid for staying away from that thing so long. Overcome by the stimulation, it took Dean quite some time to come down and hear the voices around him.

"Come on, Ambrose. Get it together." As Seth huskily whispered, Dean began to notice the doctor's hand that was gripping his own on the pillow.

"I told you I was going to be mad if you did this again." Roman's words came soon after, Ambrose feeling Roman's palm cupping the side of his face, caressing his cheek with his thumb.

A fleeting spark of affection made its way through his mind, the scene itself oddly something he always wanted. Sadly, he knew better. It was all a ruse that he couldn't let himself fall in again.

Dean forced himself to sit up, nearly falling as he did. Rome immediately moved to help him only to get his hands forcefully set aside. "No, I've got it." Ambrose firmly commented, pulling himself up fully. He looked around for his shirt, reaching for it shakily beside Seth. Rollins moved to retrieve it first but Dean piped up again. "I said I got it!"

Spontaneously, Roman grabbed Dean by his shoulder and forced him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him. Heaving out infuriated breaths, the larger man pinned the shorter under him. Seth watched apprehensively, not daring to move as Reigns grew angrier. Roman clenched his jaw. "Yeah we screwed up. A lot. But you need to calm down and stop being defensive. We're one of the few people who actually want to help you in this place and you keep pushing us away."

"Punk wants to he— " Struggling to sit up again, Dean rocked back to his elbow only for Roman to talk him back down.

"If you think we don't care, I'd hate to see your face when you realize that lawyer cares less than we do." The first vocal misstep and Seth caught it quick. He turned to stop Roman from speaking more but it seemed anger threatened to take its course. "He doesn't want to help you, Dean. He's just doing his job. No one in this place besides me and Seth would ever go the extra mile to actually care about you." Oh and the sink hole only grew larger, Rollins literally wincing as the words escaped the nurse. "If they're not trying to get in your pants, then they think you're crazy."

Angrily, Ambrose hesitated to shoot back a retort, snapping with "Well what do you know?"

"The same thing you know." Roman fired back. "Face it, Ambrose, no one cares about what happens to you or even understands you except for us."

Frozen in place, Dean stared up at the man towering over him. His face was blank as he took everything in. "Aha…" Right. Roman was just telling him what he already knew. Bray couldn't have repeated it better himself. Strangely, hearing it this time kind of… hurt. It really hurt actually. Dean hadn't even realized the depressed way his eyebrows had knitted themselves as disappointment colored his face. "Ouch," he mumbled dryly and rolled over, burying his face away from either man in a pillow. "Stings a little but thanks for reminding me of that, Rome." Roughly, Dean shoved Roman away and enclosed himself deeper into the bedding. "I get it. I do. Nobody wants me. Whatever."

Seth sighed heavily, going to reach for Dean until Ambrose sat up and caught his hand, fixing his disillusioned eyes on the doctor. "Seth, I get it."

Roman groaned loudly and sat up as well. "But you don't get it. You don't get any of this, Dean. You don't have any idea what's really going on and it's not like you'll listen to the truth."

Both man had never heard Roman sound so frustrated, and while it bummed Dean out, it made Seth a lot more worried than he cared to be. Rollins watched as Dean stared down in his hands like a chastised child, eyes painfully sad as an expressionless look fixed its way across his face. Slowly Ambrose raised a hand and bit his nails, speaking through the process. "So that's it, right? You said what you had to say, broke my heart a little. You both are over me, fine. You're done. Can I go now?" Without any wait for a response, the patient pushed himself out of the bed, grabbed his shirt, and staggered huffily towards the door, shoving it to bang against the wall as he left. Seth almost got up to stop him but to his shock, Roman grabbed his arm and sat him down, allowing Dean to escape without interference.

Once the door was closed tightly, Seth exhaled the tense breath he was holding, mixing in a disappointed sigh. He turned questioningly to Roman, who was pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. "How stupid can you be?" The doctor blinked disbelievingly and paused before asking. "What did you even just do?"

Roman groaned and lied on the previously occupied gurney. "I don't know. I'm not even thinking straight right now, Seth." Reigns closed his eyes and shook his head again. "I've never been this stressed out in my life. I'm on thin ice with the authority, my actual patient is wrecking my nerves, we're dealing with this whole court issue, and the first real contact I get with Dean in weeks, he pushes me away for. Do you know how frustrating that is?" Sitting up, the nurse shrugged. "I just want him so bad. I've never had so much trouble getting what I wanted."

Lightly chuckling to ease some of the tension, Seth tapped the big man. "Someone's spoiled."

"Shut up," Roman rolled his eyes with a defeated smile before sighing. "I'm sure he hates me right now."

Rollins nodded and scratched his head tiredly. "Yeah but he hates us both."

Everything was just falling apart with Dean. It wasn't like either men wanted to give up; the affection still ran deep. Ambrose was just making courtship a little more difficult through no real fault of his own. It was enough to make the men rethink the last couple of months and maybe see who else was available—including each other, in Roman's case.

"Yeah, it doesn't look good for either of us." The large man sighed and started again. "So, if this doesn't work out..." Shrugging, Roman turned to Seth. "Maybe we could try dating."

Rollins blushed uneasily and jerked his head towards the man, shocked at the seriousness in the elder's eyes. "What? You and me? After all the fighting and yelling and—"

"Look, Seth, you're kind of cute. I can do cute." Roman's bluntness was often spontaneously relentless.

"W-what?!" The younger man stuttered embarrassedly. "I'm not cute!" Slightly offended, Rollins reared back at the man.

Roman stared at the man's face for a minute before nodding. "Even your reaction just now was cute."

Rollins immediately turned redder and looked away for the older in pseudo-agitation. It was weird realizing that Reigns thought of him like that. They were supposed to enemies not options. Not that Roman was bad looking at all. And he did have his sweet moments. And—Seth slapped himself mentally for trailing off. Why was he even giving this idea wiggle room?! Conflicted, the smaller man pushed the idea away and moved toward the door.

"But it's just an open suggestion if all else fails. You don't even have to give it any thought right now. Just throwing it out there."A soft chuckle slipped past Roman as he paid attention to Seth's small plight. Honestly, he couldn't say what made him propose the bold idea. He just figured that all the troubles with Dean brought out the good features in the doctor: cute definitely, smart-mouthed, rowdy… Yeah, being with Seth didn't seem so bad.

Stretching, Reigns rose from the gurney, noticing a glint of light just under the side of the bed. Curiously, he bent down to retrieve it. A bag with two silver chains in it. His mouth instinctively shaped into an "O" as he marveled at the jewelry. He opened the bag without giving it a second thought and delicately picked up the familiar looking item. "Don't these look like-"

"The one Dean wears," Seth answered knowingly with a smile. "How'd something like that end up on the floor? Whose do you think it is?"

Smiling himself, Roman threw one of the chains to Seth. "Doesn't matter. It's ours now."

"Or until the owner comes looking for it." Both men swiped their hair out of the way to securely fasten the jewelry around their necks. Nodding to one another, Seth walked over to Roman and held out his fist. "Here's our testament to this commitment. One last chance for Ambrose."

"We have to really try to make this work this time." Roman bumped fists with the smaller man. "But if it doesn't work out," he grabbed Seth's wrist and yanked him into his chest, gazing down intensely, "A chance for me and you."

Feeling a too strong chill run down his spine, Seth pulled away and swiftly began to walk out the room. "I don't like your new found affection for me! It's just weird, Roman! Stop being weird!"

:::

Dean blinked rapidly as he came to on the floor, his head throbbing as the ceiling lights shunned his sensitive eyes. He probed around at the center of the pain, finding a huge knot on the back of his head. Recognizing the feeling, he supposed he had passed out in the hallway again. He looked around to confirm it, grumbling lowly about how he should've expected as much. Ah, withdrawal, it never seemed to fail.

Compiling himself, Ambrose hobbled to his feet and distended his stiff muscles. Well, now he was to do the usual; try to pin point exactly where he was in the maze of a place. No telling where his feet unconsciously wandered to while he mentally berated Roman and Seth. He started back walking down the halls to look for some familiarity as he thought to the two men earlier.

They were unbelievable. Truly unbelievable. First they barge in his room, then they're the reason he can't leave the asylum, they kidnap him, and finally they bad mouth him and kick him to the curb. Why? He was still so confused. Not even a few months ago he was so infatuated with both of them, and he was sure they at least tolerated him. But now… In exasperation, Ambrose banged his fists against the closest door, sliding down its frame. "Why does love hurt so much?!"

The door slowly creaked open to reveal the petite female patient peaking from behind it. "Well you sure are asking the right person." AJ laughed slightly at the surprise visitor and crouched down with him. "What are you doing here, Ambrosia?"

"It's a long story that just isn't worth telling," Dean grumbled as he rose from the floor.

"Okay," AJ mentioned to herself before the two fell into an awkward silence. She scanned her nails before giving in. "So are you coming in or what? I don't bite."

"I know a few guys who say otherwise," Dean sarcastically smirked and trudged into the rather girly room. He looked around the place, noting that Tamina probably supplied AJ with all the outside things: lamps, posters, really girly pink and black stuff. Compared to his bland room, AJ's really spoke volumes on her personality. Corky. Really Corky. Dean made himself comfortable, lounging in a beanbag chair by the wall, massaging the head injury he had sustained. It was a dull pain but it was there none the less.

He looked up when AJ shut the door and skipped to plop Indian-style on her bed. Even the comforter and thousands of throw pillows were distastefully girly. The female grabbed a bag of lollipops from her bedside and scanned Ambrose. "So how's life been treating my favorite sociopath?"

"Like it hates me, which I'm positive about at this point."

"Explain," the patient off handedly responded as she pulled two lollipops, tossing one to Ambrose and taking her own.

Dean twisted the wrapper off the candy and shoved it in his mouth as he thought of good wording. "Well… there's a possibility that I'm going to be stuck here for another three years."

"Bummer," AJ commented.

"Yeah," Dean nodded a bit uncaringly. "Uh, I just woke up a little while ago." He viewed her wall clock for the elapsed time. "You know, passed out in the hall again. Banged my head on the floor. Out for like five hours."

Sarcastically the girl sucked her teeth. "Don't you hate it when that happens?" She ignored the glare that was shot her way and laid on the bed more comfortably. "You're dancing around the real issue, Ambrose. Talk."

The man eyed up the female before looking away, scratching his head uncomfortably. "I don't know. What do you want me to say?"

AJ examined her lollipop as she spoke. "Is it about anything that happened in particular? Is it about someone?" She gauged Dean's reaction, especially on her next question. "Is it about Ro?" A twitch from the other patient's upper lip told her she was on the right track. "Maybe Romie?" Ambrose's downcast gaze gave her the confirmation. "Wow, both of them, huh?" AJ nodded to herself before she unwrap the treat. "Okay so what happened?"

Dean took a long inhaled breath, dragging out a grungy sigh. "Basically they dogged me around. I don't want to get into detail about it…" Ambrose became a mix of sadness and anger. "…it's like Bray said, I was the third wheel so they pushed me out—and I would've been cool with that if they'd just left me alone or something more subtle. But the way they did it, I just…" The young man moved his hands around him in some kind of weird motion before shrugging in defeat. "I'm just done with them. They said they're done with me and I'm done with them."

The listener nodded slowly in understanding and rolled over on her bed to gaze at the ceiling. "I don't think that's it. I mean, it looked to me like they only had eyes for you. I could actually see them fighting one another over you more than dumping you all together." She closed her eyes and shrugged. "I just thought you made a sexy threesome, but that's wishful thinking I guess. If you're done, you're done."

"Exactly," Ambrose pointed.

"But then again…" AJ trailed off seeing Dean nearly wilt at the expected words. "Okay let's say that hypothetically you misread everything that's been going on. Seth and Roman don't want to get rid of you and they actually want to add you into the relationship. What then?"

Dean sucked his teeth. "That's a stupid scenario."

"Answer the question, Ambrose. It's only hypothetical. Would you be interested in that?"

The patient scratched his head and thought. "Well just to amuse you," Dean thought his words over sitting up slightly in the beanbag chair. "I mean yeah. That's what I wanted at first."

AJ rolled over again to sit up and swing her legs over the edge of her bed. She flicked the finished lollipop away and perked up. "And that answer is proof that you aren't really done with them." Ambrose opened his mouth to protest but she smartly persisted. "No, if you were really done, you would deny any opportunity to go back to them. You basically just admitted that if given the chance, yes, you would definitely try again." AJ didn't bother listening to the other try to combat her words. She instead chose to jump from the bed and stroll over to Dean, plopping in his lap. "So I say try again .Those two guys have had a lot going on recently so they probably were frustrated. We don't exactly say the nicest things when we're mad. Try talking to them when they've calmed down." Ambrose grumbled defiantly but she grasped his face firmly in her considerably smaller hands. "I was a couples' counselor before all of this. I know what I'm talking about. Trust me."

Dean rolled his eyes mulling the notion over. Why did everyone say the same thing? How many chances were he supposed to give Seth and Roman? The idea was just too much to bother with, but Ambrose knew he'd have to do something to appease the brunette on his lap. He just couldn't say no to her; like a little sister you just can't refuse. Shaking away any more objections, he hoisted AJ to her feet and held up his hands in defense. "Alright, look," faux agitation graced the man's face, "if they give me the opportunity, I'll say something."

"Good," AJ smiled, pecking Ambrose on the cheek and leading him to the door. "Because whether you know it or not, a lot of us girls around here are pushing for you three." She pointed out brightly as she revealed her hallway with a quick twist of the knob. Unexpectedly, the young woman stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing the other man in front of her. She froze mere seconds before screaming at the top of her lungs.

"What is it?!" Panicking, Dean ran to her side, stopping when he recognized the visitor. "Punk?"

The lawyer leaned up against the farthest wall with his arms crossed, a plain expression on his carefree face. Punk opened his mouth to speak but AJ screamed over top of him. "Get him away from me! Get out! Get out! Get out!" Ambrose didn't attempt to console the spark of insanity, choosing to instead follow Punk who motioned for him.

The door slammed behind them with prominence as they left. Confusedly Dean scratched his head. "I take it you know AJ?"

"Know her? I dated her." Nonchalantly Punk mused as they walked. "But you know, two crazy people don't exactly make a sensible relationship." The man hiked his eyebrows for emphasis. "Some things are better off in the past, that's for sure."

Dean just took the words for what they were worth and continued on. "So I doubt you just so happen to run into me. What's going on? Anything else to ruin my day?"

"Not now," Punk commented, leaning against a close wall, halting their stride. He folded his arms once again, a certain noticeable habit. "So I told you that tomorrow I want to go over some things about the trial. That's established. As for right now," The tone dropped from business to casual instantly as Punk tugged Dean lightly by a belt loop, "I wanted to check on you after this morning. That wasn't exactly how I planned on the conversation going, but they wanted full disclosure so I gave it to them."

The lawyer watched Dean shift his gaze down at the recollection, the man pouting somewhat. Dean just humped his shoulders with exaggerated indifference. "You had to tell me eventually too, right?"

"Not like that. You know I wouldn't have told you like that." Sarcastically the man answered with a sigh. "And I'm sure you didn't want any more reason to hate Roman and Seth."

"Well I don't care either way." Ambrose shrugged again, keeping his eyes down. "I don't want anything to do with them."

Punk's hands slowly glided over to plant themselves on Dean's waist, lightly shaking the man from side to side. "You make me believe otherwise when you don't look at me." He stilled Dean to observe the patient, gently pulling him closer. "What's on your mind?"

Grumbling to himself, Dean reluctantly accepted the bait and folded his arms over his chest. "You know, what makes them so special, huh? Why should I give them another chance?"

"Oh." Biting his lip ring, the shorter male nodded in understanding. "So this is about them again?" He also followed suit crossing his arms, looking up to the ceiling as he thought. Finally at a consensus, he scanned Dean's slightly embarrassed face before speaking. "Well I guess you can give them one more shot."

"But you said we could—"

Holding up a hand defensively, Punk interrupted him. "And my offer still stands." He walked until he was right up on Dean, talking lowly. "Look, people say all types of things when they're upset, Dean. I get that. So when you said yes to maybe going out, I took it for what it was at the moment. If you didn't mean it, then whatever. You could go back to Reigns and Rollins or be on your own. I didn't matter. But if you did mean it…" Inching that much closer, the lawyer stood toe to toe, slightly gazing up at Dean. "I'd be right here."

Ambrose wasn't even entirely sure of what he said to Punk after the events of the interview. All he remembers is the man walking him to his room, calming him down from some irrational decision, then more depression, and finally Punk asking him out when he was released from the asylum. Again, it was an out of thin air question that Punk assured him wasn't out of pity. Under better circumstances, he would've asked anyway, he reiterated. Bypassing the initial shock, Dean agreed, getting a soft peck on the cheek for his troubles before Punk left him that day.

Since then, they'd only brought it up once, Punk working out the kinks of how it wouldn't be something too serious. They'd be together. Simple enough. No official titles, no extra responsibilities to one another, no over thinking. Just together.

And that sounded perfectly fine to Dean.

Punk drew Dean from his recollection as he went back to tugging Dean forward by his hips. "So for your sake, let them try again, because when you're mine, you're mine." On cue the lawyer pulled Dean down by his locks, brushing his lips briefly. "You know, you're really cute. I kinda dig cute." Another soft peck was placed on Dean's cheek, leaving them a deep shade of pink before Punk began to stroll away.

He called over his shoulder, voice back to its usual tone. "Go get some sleep. I'll prep you tomorrow so you can be ready. This trial is going to come sooner than we expect."

"…Right." Dean breathed out, trying to wipe the blush from his flushed face.

"Oh," Punk also threw in as he was nearly out of sight, "and don't forget to settle that thing with Reigns and Rollins."

Dean groaned loudly and lied against the wall. "How can I?" He was so conflicted that he didn't notice the little ding of a finished recording that was mere feet away.

Just around the corner, Maddox glued himself to the wall clutching his phone tightly in his hands. Oh boy. What did he just see?

Punkbrose? Why not? :3 Next Chapter!