Okay, so here we are again and this week (and to make up for the lack of Seth and Roman last week) we've got some fully shameless brother vibes here. Strap in for the angst and fluff and the crazy! Hope you like it!
Skovko, Thanks! I felt like Asuka was a natural fit for that last one and I'm glad it worked out the way I hoped! Sometimes I get the idea first and other times I have to find a story for the superstar I want to use. That last one was both of those! This one? Who knows!
Mandy, Had to include Seth and Roman in that last one somewhere and the idea of Seth all snotty and wrapped in a blanket was too good to pass up. You'll be pleased to know Seth is fully in this one. Couldn't not write our boy for too long! Glad you're slowly getting better and better. Both of us are getting there. I'm proud of us!
LHisawesome4ever, Haha, you know me too well! Yep, some good old fashioned angst here, but lots of brotherhood goodness too, just to balance it out and especially because I think it's what we probably all need right now!
Wolfgirl2013, Thank you! Hope you like this one. It has all the feels!
Cheryl24, Ha, yep, the Hogan Diamond probably has some horrible curse attached to it or something super unpalatable like that! Boo Hogan!
Derick Lindsey, Aww, thanks for the double review last week. Glad you're still enjoying this little world! Yep, this week is going to be funny and also maybe a little heartbreaking too? Funnily enough Natalya is going to be coming up in a couple of weeks (great minds think alike). As for real life Dean...well, I'm just praying he resigns before his contract is up. I mean, if Brock can do it at the last minute then why can't he?! (Please universe...give us something!)
SkittlezLvr79, Glad you liked the last one. I think it turned into one of my favourites in the end and who can ever have enough of Vince being no help and the McMahons taking credit for everything in life! All the stars aligned! Oh and yep, here comes drunk Dean!
Minnie1015, Aww, glad you liked sick, grumpy Seth in that last one! But of course he would be grumpy about getting sick, since he's usually their resident health nut, drinking shakes and being healthy. I imagine that for him being sick would be a personal failing. So yep, poor sick Seth! He's grumpy in this one too, only this time for a WHOLE different reason! P.S. I promise I will reply to your message! I'm so sorry I haven't yet!
Drunk Dean and a slightly quirky cameo coming up!
The Shield Unscripted: Shaken Not Stirred
Dean stepped down heavily from the doorway of the restaurant onto the frost bitten sidewalk beyond. Or would have stepped down had there actually been a step. Because evidently there was not.
Wait. Had there been one before?
He stumbled on the concrete as it rose up to meet him and then grabbed onto the railings lining the building outside, since it was one of those fancy kind of looking little eateries, with awnings at the windows to keep off the rain and a menu written in fluent Italian and, oh yeah, Martinis. Lots and lots of those.
He grunted,
"Hey, where d' fuck did the step go? Because m' pretty…pretty sure there was a step here before, an' now it's gone. Did…did you guys see somebody take it? Because we should probably file a report."
He was met with a sigh of long suffering across the earpiece and so knew before anyone even responded properly that the next one to speak was totally going to be Seth, since Roman hardly ever blew frustrated huffs out at him and even when he did they were fond and kind of warm.
Roman was warm.
Seth was more sort of pinchy.
"There was no step Dean, geez, how much did you drink in there?"
Dean grinned.
Yep. Sure enough, there was Seth, sharp but ever present from the back of their surveillance truck. Except not their surveillance truck. Not this time at least. Because their trusty set of wheels had been involved in an accident. Or, okay a ramming to be more exact, which had happened when the three of them had been chasing an escaped prisoner and had made a swerve to take the getaway car off the road. It had worked — on the plus side — but maybe a little bit too well since it had also taken them into the water filled ditch too and then turned them fully upside down in the process and killed their little hideout. The boss had not been pleased and which was why they had therefore been forced to hole up in a building and watch their latest target from a room across the street and which is why Dean then made a sharp drunken turn towards it heading straight for the road in the process.
"Dean, hey…"
"Huh?"
"I said how much did you drink in there you idiot?"
He shrugged,
"I dunno, like two? Maybe three?"
Not that he could remember exactly, because as colorful local Italian gangster Santino Marella had continued to push tall glasses in front of his face, Dean had simply continued to down them, which was part of the plan.
Sort of. Because okay so had the plan had not been to get blind drunk, but the only way Santino Marella let his guard down and let them into his inner circle was through traditional Italian drinks and so Dean had been forced to go along with it to try and keep up his cover as a low level hood, looking to break in on the drug dealing business they suspected the local mob boss of running out of the back, in the overused super Italian cliché of setting up a restaurant as a criminal front. Sometimes he wished the bad guys would be less sort of…
Standard.
He stepped into the road without looking at what was coming and earned himself a honk from an unexpected car, which he simply flapped his hand at and carried on trudging like he had every ride to be stood there like a ghost in the dark.
Warm tones bled instantly back at him…
Over the driver's cursing.
"Hey, what the hell is the matter with you? Get out of the road."
"Babe you okay out there?"
"Yeah, s' just some freakin' jackass who thinks he owns the road. I might show him my badge. Sittin' there actin' like some big man an' like, what is that? Is he drivin' a freakin' Scion? I mean come on."
Seth barked at him,
"Dean, hey, get out of the road you moron."
Huh?
Still shuffling towards the opposite building, Dean looked up and then scanned the windows of the frontage until he spotted a figure ducked down low near the top, peering down at him and wildly flapping him in closer as he stalled in the middle of the street and grinned,
"Hi."
"God damn it Dean, will you stop waving? Someone might see you."
He blinked,
"Huh? Oh right. You mean like Marella, or his mob guys or somethin'?"
"Dude just get up here."
"'Kay."
But that part of things was kind of easier said than done, because the building they had chosen as their base of operations was pretty much in full view of the potential crime den and so therefore to minimize any risk of suspicion they had taken to entering and exiting through the rear. Or more specifically via the rickety fire escape that snaked up the battered looking brickwork round the back, where there was not a fucking stitch of natural light anywhere and which was hard enough to do in the daylight not drunk, but in the dark and totally wasted was like a new extreme sport. Halfway through the climb he chose to call it Spidermanning, since it seemed like his new sport probably needed a name and by the time he finally stuck his head through the window of their sparsely furnished room, he was singing the theme.
"Spider Dean, Spider Dean, somethin' somethin' a Spider can. Climbs fire escapes, any size. Fuck yeah he can, 'cos he rocks. Look oooouuut, here comes the Spider Dean…oh holy crap."
The last part of the song was barked in gruff panic as he accidentally got his foot hooked in over the sill, then pitched forward with his hands out towards the stained looking carpet in what would have been the biggest human face plant of all time, had big arms not swept round him and held up with a grumble and a wash of cologne that Dean would have known anywhere.
He grinned,
"Hey uce. Look, m' like, fuckin' Spider Dean."
Roman raised a brow in response,
"Sure you are, now do you think Spider Dean can stand up without falling?"
"Like, no freakin' problem."
He was confident on that, because standing was pretty much a basic human life skill and besides which, he was a top secret city cop, so standing was totally something he could master. He pulled out of the grip and then flung his hands open, with a grin of achievement as he managed the feat. Well, for a little while at least before he started to tip over, but backwards this time which if nothing else switched things up. Although not that the sensation was any more pleasant or less of a worry,
"Oh fuck, man down…"
"Whoa."
Luckily however Roman smoothly stepped in again, grabbing him solidly by the lapels of his coat and then pulling him back into a semi upright position with a grin of sheer fondness that broke though the drunken haze. Sort of.
"M' Spider Dean."
"No, you're wasted you idiot," Seth snapped back from where he was stood by the blackout blind which they had installed to hide their literal mountain of microphones and cameras and other surveillance doo hickey things, "I mean why in the hell did you drink so damn much man?"
Huh. Good question.
"I had to," Dean frowned, "For the case, so Marella would like, think I was cool an' stuff, an' be okay with makin' me one of his guys."
Seth shook his head,
"Nope. No way man. Not buying it, because I know that you know better than that. I mean, whatever happened to you just pretending to drink shit and then tipping it away like you usually do, or spitting it into a bottle or something? The hell happened Dean? It seemed like you wanted to get drunk."
Roman frowned,
"Hey now, go a little easy here brother, because I'm pretty sure this can wait until uce has slept it off."
Or else not shuffling around like a hobo smelling like a brewery in central Turin and in response Seth blew out a tiny little half sigh which Dean figured was remorse and rightly so.
"M' not drunk."
Much.
Because the apartment they had rented for their stakeout was one of the — uh — less desirable ones in town, it had come so sparsely furnished it may as well have been barren, since it had only been home to a couch and a bed. Not to mention the probable family of rodents that lived in said couch based on the nibbly looking holes and the stuffing that had been strewn across the creaky stained floorboards and which Seth had dowsed in eight tonnes of disinfectant spray. Thankfully though it was the latter of their two seating options that Roman slowly manoeuvred their undercover man towards, before giving him a simple little tap between the shoulders which toppled him face first onto the mattress.
"Fuck…"
"Sorry uce, but you get a little heavy and difficult when you're wasted."
"Freakin' told you m' not…"
"We believe you uce."
He shut up as a thick blanket then landed in over him and was then pulled right up and sort of tucked in around his limbs, like his mother might have done had she ever freaking cared enough and so instantly he guessed it was probably their big man. But when he looked up it was instead his little brother who was flapping down the folds. Halfway resentfully of course and mumbling tersely. Yep, there was definitely terse mumbling.
"God damn it Ambrose," he snapped okay uh oh because last names terms were never a massively good sign, "I mean you've been acting kind of weird all day man and now I've got to put you to bed like a god damn kid?"
Dean frowned,
Hey m' not a freakin' kid dude, m' a crack policingman."
Seth rolled his eyes,
"Uh huh."
But as he went to step away Dean reached over and grabbed him, before pointing somewhat pitifully towards the bottom of the bed and straight up whining a little, but not at all kid like. Or okay, maybe a little.
"Need to take off my shoes," he made a pathetic little half stretch down towards them then gave up with a pout, "Can't sleep in my shoes."
Seth snorted,
"Come on man, I've seen you sleep standing up before, in full riot gear," but he moved around the bed and then pulled off the heavy boots more roughly than needed, so that the copper blonde screwed his face up and mumbled a word. It sounded like pinchy but since it made no sense to him Seth brushed it aside and then tucked the feet in, "There, happy now?"
"Uh huh," Dean nodded and then turned to stretch out again but this time stomach down on the bed, like someone had dropped him off a building or something.
Idiot.
"Get some sleep babe."
Roman returned with some water and a packet of popper pills which was probably for the best. Dean made a snort noise then nuzzled into the covers which both of them took as a drunk form of yes. In many ways it was actually nice to see him sleeping and Seth wondered if it was the same feeling as having a kid and putting him down for an afternoon nap or something. He shared a glance with Roman and the both of them smiled fondly before turning and beginning to quietly creep back.
Everything was still.
Briefly.
"Did you guys know that Bigfoots freakin' whistle at each other?"
"God damn it Dean."
"I think it's how they communicate an' that shit. Saw a program 'bout it. Because you know, those things are totally out there, m' tellin' you man."
"Sure they are babe," Roman intoned smoothly with an indulgent sort of chuckle that Seth did not appreciate. They needed to keep a united front and...oh dear god they were parenting their brother and even worse than that was that he was the mother in the thing, while Roman was the loving and super indulgent god damn father. Meanwhile their offspring was fast warming to his topic.
Drunkenly.
"There was this thing about aliens too, an' how like, the pyramids weren't really built by people."
In response to him Seth snorted which sounded loud in the sparse apartment and the scruffy head lifted clean up off the bed to roll a suspicious but hazy blue eye at him. Because apparently even totalled their boy loved conspiracies.
Seth spread his hands,
"Aliens?"
"Dude, they have proof and…"
"No they dont Dean," the tech man shot back, partly because the idiot was drunken, but mainly because they were supposed to be on a surveillance case, not having nonsensical alcohol fuelled chitchat "Aliens do not exist."
Dean huffed,
"Which is exactly what one would say, right uce?" he looked blearily over to the big man and the Samoan in turn shrugged.
"Makes sense to me babe."
"Ha."
Dean barked the noise out in loud moral victory then promptly face planted back into the bed and in response Seth rolled his eyes but then fought a growing smile down as he returned to the grimy window where their surveillance setup was. They'd hung a blackout cloth over the front facing fixments and cut out holes to poke their multiple cameras lenses through, which included one rigged up for constant recording and a smaller one for taking more specifically aimed shots, but especially the faces toing and froing from the restaurant, which they then ran through the software on the computer beside the couch.
Click.
Seth triggered the shutter on the handheld as a man in long black coat stepped from the restaurant and then turned back to Roman who was rifling in their supplies,
"Looks like we got another one."
"New player?"
Seth nodded and then took the bottled water that was offered out his way as Roman came to peer past the corner of the blackout and then grunted,
"Maybe uce can tell us who he is."
"If he can remember who he is when he wakes up," Seth grumbled back before glancing towards the bed. At some point Dean had rolled himself over and then spread out like some sort of eagle in flight, or like he had been making a bed bound snow angel but forgotten he was doing it and paused kind of mid pose. Seth hushed his tones, "Hey man, do you think we should be worried about whatever's going on with him?"
Roman sighed,
"Brother I don't know, but I mean it's uce, so I guess when it comes down to it he's just going to have to tell us in his own time."
Seth made an unhappy noise in response to that fact and then tapped at the big man as Marella himself appeared outside, complete with a monobrow and a green glove on one hand, which was some sort of trademark but looked ridiculous.
"There he is."
Seth took several short rapid fire photos, charting his path from the restaurant to the car and then sat back as the saloon pulled away from them and left the sidewalk empty and everything quiet. It was looking set to be a very long and lonely night for them, pretty much like it had been for the previous week. Only suddenly there was the sound of something rustling from the mattress and then a raspy tone that they knew only too well.
Seth rolled his eyes,
"Dean, go to sleep already and no, before you ask I am not taking off your pants."
"It was this."
"Huh?"
Blinking Seth turned around to face him and was surprised to see the blue eyes staring blankly up at the sky. Or at least the stain covered ceiling tiles above him. How did ceiling tiles get stained? He had something in his hand which he had pulled from his pocket and then screwed up so he could throw it haphazardly their way. Seth cursed as the missile bounced straight off his forehead. It was a good throw for a drunk.
Kind of.
"God damn it Dean."
Bending down to pick it up, Seth unravelled the projectile and then grudgingly started to read it aloud, since their big man was frowning in confusion from beside him clearly wondering what was happening and nor was he the only one.
"Dear mister Ambrose," the tech expert started, "The Chyna Hotel is pleased to inform you that the provisional booking for your wedding is…"
He stopped and then let the rest of the gold embossed letter sort of wilt in his fingers. Because oh holy crap. Beside him Roman furrowed his brows in desolation and then rumbled a word out,
"Babe."
Dean waved a hand,
"She uh, she put our name down as a joke like freakin' years ago, back when we were kinda first talkin' about that shit," he shrugged, "I guess I kinda forgot all about it, but then that turned up today so..."
He wanted to say something cool, or make out like the letter was no big freaking deal to him. But it was. It was the whole entire reason he'd got drunk. Not that he had meant to, because he wasn't an idiot. He knew full well that drinking on undercover work was bad. But god the buzz had numbed the pain just a little and he had wanted so hard to just freaking forget.
Seth pulled a face at him,
"Dean..."
"Yeah. I freakin' know right? Like, it kinda really sucks. Not that I wanted to have a big weddin' or that shit. But I woulda done for her, ya know?"
Roman nodded,
"Yeah we know babe and I bet you would have looked real good in a buttonhole," he grinned and was rewarded with a wry little snort. But it might as well have been a straight up full frontal belly laugh given the topic and the levels of pain it caused.
Sniff.
Dean swiped at his nose with a sleeve cuff loosely. But only because it was too freaking cold. Not because he was drunk and emotional. Like, not even remotely.
"I kinda forget her sometimes…"
Crap.
Had he said that out loud? Based on the way Seth and Roman were blinking at him in a mixture of confusion and concern, then yes he had and in response to him the bigger man stepped closer to the bed again and then took a seat at the end of the thing. He totally crushed Dean's toes and so he moved them with a grumble before settling back again as a hand landed on knee and then hovered reassuringly. Seth stayed beside the cameras. But only because he had to,
He blinked,
"What do you mean forget her man?"
Dean shrugged,
"I dunno. Like, I guess I kinda forget her laugh sometimes an' how it used to sound when I did somethin' dumb. 'Cept part of me thinks I kinda want to forget it because rememberin' freakin' hurts."
Roman tightened his grip,
"Babe…"
Dean flipped over as something lumpy in the mattress dug uncomfortably into his back. Based on the apartment it was probably a flick knife or possibly the carcass of long deceased rat. But he was lying too close to the edge of the bed frame and so nearly tipped off it in a face plant to the floor. Luckily though Roman managed to brace him pretty solidly and then rolled him back again.
"Hey where'd the bed go?" Dean frowned in bewilderment, "Things keep on freakin' disappearin' on me tonight huh? Like the curb, an' my girl…do you think I'm like, forgettin' her?"
Roman shook his head,
"Nope, never babe," he rumbled, reaching up a little higher and tousling the mop, "That's never happening okay?"
Dean pouted,
"But it is though. I feel like m' freakin' forgettin' stuff. An' not just because m' kinda drunk because m' not man. But like real stuff. I mean what if I forget her or like forget she existed because that totally could happen."
"Which is why you've got us man."
"Huh?"
Seth stepped away from the blind as Dean blinked across at him, because suddenly their surveillance gig seemed like it could wait. Or at least until the end of the existential crisis. Italian alcohol based though it was. Flopping down hard onto the battered looking sofa, he propped his feet up on a nearby camera crate and then crossed his arms like he was bitterly offended.
"Do you think we would let you forget her like that? No way man. I mean, we loved her too remember?"
Roman nodded,
"Damn straight we did, in fact babe, did I ever tell you about the favorite memory I got of her?" he leaned back against the kickboard which creaked loudly behind him but thankfully held firm.
Dean blinked at him,
"No."
"Because technically I got a whole bunch of real good ones, but you remember way back when you were first going out with her and you had to bail out on that date to go to work, but then two hours later she turns up at the crime scene with a giant cheese pizza and chicken wings and ribs?"
Roman grinned absently which was probably little wonder because the bigger man had always loved his damn food and never more than when the three of them were hard at work at a crime scene having missed out on dinner.
Dean smiled,
"She uh, she said she thought we might be hungry and didn't know what to get us so like, bought the whole lot."
Roman nodded indulgently,
"Sure did man."
He patted his stomach and earned another little snort sound, but it was looser and more contented. Well, drunk but contented at least and on balance Roman decided that he would probably take that. Seth shifted on the couch,
"Wanna know what mine is man?"
Roman smirked,
"Is it the time she made you dye out your blonde streak? Because if not then it should be brother."
Seth ignored him pointedly,
"No. Actually it was the time we turned up at the hospital with that three hundred and like, whatever the hell pound biker guy. The one we arrested at the scene of that bar brawl. Had a god damn chunk bitten out of his hand remember that? Took the three of us to hold him down and he was kicking things and screaming and then she turns up and tells him to cool it and he turns into a quiet little mouse all so she can bandage his hand."
Dean grinned,
"Yeah. Huh. She was like, real good with people an' not scared of anythin'."
God he was proud of that fact and of her and of having been allowed in her existence. Too brief though it had been.
Roman patted his leg,
"So, how are you feeling uce? Still having those worries or do you think you can maybe hear her laugh better now?"
He blinked.
Huh.
"Yeah," he nodded, "I can uce."
Dean sat with that thought and the sound for a second. Because suddenly the memory was as clear as freaking day. He could see her perfectly. Grinning at him fondly and then trying to roll her eyes at something stupid he had done before giving up and then breaking out into a whole fit of giggles. Or the other times when she would just throw her head back and laugh. Like a full, eyes closed, open mouthed bark of amusement and those images stuck with him as he began to blink back sleep. Or else quite possibly an alcohol coma. But this time it felt good because she was there. He grinned and then rolled himself over on the mattress away from the lump that was assaulting his spine and then slurred a few words out,
"Hey, uh, like you know, thanks or whatever boys."
"Anytime man."
Roman and Seth were both smiling back, but he knew that beneath the front they were watching him like parents and that even when he acted like a total freaking asshole and got drunk on a case that they would still have his back. Not that it would mean any less grumbling on Seth's part, but the support would be there all the same beneath that fact.
He licked his lips,
"Did you know there are like, twelve different types of Bigfoot? An' they like blueberry bagels, oh an' also apple pie."
Seth snorted loudly,
"Dean?"
"Ye…"
"Go to sleep man."
Roman chuckled somewhere by the foot of the bedframe and in response Dean smirked but then let his eyes shut, as around him his brothers drifted back to their surveillance gig. He had no idea of how long he was out for in the end, or when he even managed to fall asleep for that matter, but he did know that when he did he dreamt about his girl a lot and about how her laugh sounded and that he slept freaking good too.
Because Roman was right. He was never forgetting her. Not even if they Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Minded his ass. He would always always have the memories with him.
And he would always always always have his dumbass brothers there as well.
Okay, so next week prepare yourself for some serious crazy as our favourite idiot puppy throws a birthday party and invites the guys. Yep. Things are going to be less than simple!