Alright then folks, time to wrap this one up with a little bit of sweetness, because after everything I've put him through, I figure that Dean deserves that at least!
Mandy, Glad you liked Dean's idea to defeat Bray. What can I say? I love me some crazy Dean! My mom is good thanks. It's her 60th birthday next month, so I'm planning to get her a nice surprise present to celebrate. How did your interview go?! I was sending positive vibes. It will be tough on the one year anniversary of your grandmother's passing, but I'm sure she would be super proud of everything you've overcome in the last twelve months, and how determined you are. Big hugs until next time, and thank you for always supporting my writing. It means a lot :)
Derrick Lindsey, Yeah, I'm not sure Dean came out of the solo Bray feud that well, in between holograms and exploding equipment and whatnot. Guess I decided to give him something pretty decisive to make up for that (and besides, who doesn't love a match with added crazy props?!) As always, thanks for reading and reviewing my humble little stories. I love knowing what people are thinking! :)
Rebel8954, Okay, maybe my next story should be the guys being magically turned into random animals. Roman, a gorilla or something proud, Dean, a slightly scruffy wolf, and Seth as a…(fill in the blank here) Seagull? Grumpy billy goat? Rabid squirrel? Either way, thank you as ever for following my crazy word vomits (AKA, stories!) and always making me excited to write to see what people think. Thank you, thank you! :)
Phoenix lord of rebirth, Well, if you ask Dean, he would have called his plan, 'genius,' however you might be right with insane! Still, you have to think outside the box to beat Bray. I think I also wanted to pay homage to old WWE, where trash cans, mops and all manner of things got used. Ooh, remember the shopping carts?! Anyway, thank you soooo much for reading and reviewing and investing so much emotion into our boy and his kooky plan. Both Dean and I thank you (lol!) :)
Cheryl24, Don't ever count Dean out in the crazy stakes! Although I think Bray might have overreacted a bit, because I mean, who wouldn't want Dean's name tattooed on their forehead?! (I kid. I do not have Dean's name on my forehead!) Thank you, as ever, for being one of the select group of people who always read my stories and feed back to me, and cheer me on throughout my many twists and turns. I love my reviews :)
xXBalorBabeXx, That will teach Bray to think he's the craziest MOFO in the company! Nope, it will always be Dean! As ever, thank you so so so so so much for reading and reviewing as I indulge my love for punishing Dean. I'm glad there are people like you on my wavelength! Thank you, thank you! :)
SkittlezLvr79, Haha, I see you with your 'sequel' talk! Maybe one day, who knows? I kind of envisaged it like the real WWE feuds, which just suddenly end for no particular reason after many months (shrugs) but since I do love Bray as the biggest, baddest villain of them all, I'm sure I could try and reach back into his mind (starts to laugh evilly). But for now though, THANK YOU for always being so invested in my version of Dean. It means so much to have others on these crazy journeys with me! :)
FreakinLunaticsYard, Yay! I'm so glad you liked it (and that you never saw Dean's crazy plan coming...which is fine, because neither did Roman, Seth or Hunter...and me to be honest, at least until I got to the last three chapters anyway!) And most of all, I'm glad I can keep the wrestling world's best bromance alive for you. It can be a bit bittersweet at times, because I miss them all in the ring together sooo much. But at least they left a treasure trove of headcannons and fanfiction ideas behind them. Plus, thank goodness for YouTube Playlists! But for the moment (until my next dose of brotherly love) thank you as always for being there for every chapter, twist and turn. And thank you for cheering on Dean (i.e. me writing him) so passionately. It really means so much to know that all my frantic, unhinged typing is worth it! :)
Debwood-1999, It was sweet to write Bray getting his comeuppance. I think his biggest weakness as the old cult leader character was that he had maybe too much confidence in himself. Glad I could explore that here. As for Bray winning one day? Hmm, I'll have to think about that...although, if I get to add in a big dose of brotherly Roman and Seth at the end, I might be down! For now though, thank you for always showing up and reviewing (even if you secretly want Bray to win. Lol!) :)
Minnie1015, Yay! That's another story we've come through together! (Does New Day style dance). And as always, you were there for every chapter (and in between!) Can't wait to brainstorm my next ideas with you. Here's to many more (raises imaginary drink!) BIG, BIG THANK YOU! :)
Okay, for the last time on this one then...
Seventeenth
They let Seth drive them to the next town purely because his adrenaline was still pumping and it was either let him slip behind the wheel, or put up with him yammering and waving his hands.
Usually it was Dean who was their squirmiest member—the veritable definition of ants in your pants—but thanks to Roman's promised burger and fries meal, not to mention a couple of shots, he was starting to feel unusually sluggish and a comfortable warmth was flushing his cheeks. Okay, so maybe they'd also let Seth drive because he was the only one who'd stayed off the liquor, preferring a protein shake to the booze. Still, two birds with one stone and all that jazz, and besides everyone was happy. Especially him, slouched lazily across the back seat of their rental, head against the window and with a hoodie balled beneath his head.
The camber of the road sent up a frenzied vibration that rattled through the glass and right into his brain. Dean kind of liked it, it was like the tattoo gun. The little gun that had damn near saved his life. The tool itself was tucked away in his kit-bag—he wasn't about to let that go—and as a mark of homage or possibly redemption, he'd toyed with getting inked himself. Roman however, with his arm full of artwork, had encouraged him against going into the grimy looking parlour they had stumbled across, and Seth had practically had a conniption, getting, as ever, straight to the point.
"You wanna beat Bray Wyatt and then fucking die of sepsis?"
"Don't be dramatic."
"Don't be an ass."
Faced with their twin expressions of censure, Dean had turned back towards the car with a sigh,
"Happy now?"
"Ecstatic," Seth had deadpanned, "All my Christmases come at once."
Back in the car, Dean smiled at the memory, the expression quickly moving into a frown as a pothole bumped his head against the doorframe. Damn it. Stupid fucking roads. In the background his teammates were bickering lightly about music and which radio station to choose. The sound was fond and teasing and comfortable, and with the tones as his backdrop, his eyes flickered shut.
Beating Bray Wyatt had been fantastic—everything he'd hoped it would be—but it had also been completely draining, and had sucked him dry like some sort of creepy sponge. His sleep since he'd been saved from the trailer had been patchy for the most part and non-existent at times, which hadn't much helped his fragile emotions, or the overall mood of the team. Now that everything was finished however, he realised that the worry—that dark background fear—had been just as draining as a physical beating. A constant that had drained nearly everything he had.
It had gone now, absorbed like dew in the sunshine, but the exhaustion it had left was too strong to ignore, like a blue-black cloud or a smothering blanket, pulling him down like he was made of pure stone. But at the same that was almost okay now, because he was free, he was safe and if he wanted to sleep he could. For a million years if that's what it took him, and god how he felt like he wanted so much more.
His head nodded once and the momentum brought it up again, fighting off sleep even as he settled further down. A hand arrived on his knee which made him startle, and then look up into Roman's grey eyes.
"Hey," he smiled, speaking softly, "How you doing back there babe?"
Babe. A word that Roman used frequently but that stood in sharp contrast to his big, macho look. He used it with his family—his wife and his daughter—but crucially he used it with them as well. Not in any way a sexual chat up, but a word he called the people he loved, and in turn Dean loved how unashamed he was to use it. Babe. Brother. Family. Home.
Before he could find the right words to answer, Seth's eyes slid up to the rear view with a grin,
"How does it feel to be a fucking champ?"
"Pretty good," Dean replied, smirking wearily but still managing to look appropriately smug, "But when you're as awesome as I am, y' know, it's a feeling you kinda get used to fast."
Seth threw his head back and cackled at that one, his full-bodied, movie bad guy, nasal bark, that seemed to light them all up together. Partly because it sounded so stupid, but mostly because it was just good to hear him laugh.
Roman's hand still sat on Dean's kneecap and he tapped it lightly in his own silent mirth. Dean got the impression that he was too tired for laughing, which totally made sense because sweet jesus so was he, and facing it head on triggered his eyelids, which he scrubbed at hard with the back of his hand. It was weird, for so long he'd wanted to slumber—shut his eyes and be taken off—but the fear and the darkness had jolted him out of it and made it a scary place to be. But now that he could sleep without worry, he didn't want to let himself, he wanted to take charge. He was Dean Ambrose, he could do fucking anything. Although staying awake was proving damn hard and, if he was honest, pretty pointless too.
Roman tapped his knee again, almost as if silently reading the struggle and Dean glanced up at him,
"You should get some sleep."
Instantly Seth's eyes snapped up in the mirror and this time they narrowed in obvious concern. Reaching out he flipped off the radio deftly, and Dean snorted softly and pushed himself up,
"I'm good,"
"You're not."
And maybe Seth had a point, because as Dean shifted slightly a rush of cold air hit him like a tidal wave and he shivered visibly and let out a hiss. When in the hell had it gotten so cold? They were driving to Seattle, not the fucking North Pole.
He started as something warm hit him and a waft of familiar cologne rose up. Roman's sweatshirt had been deposited on top of him and the Big Dog was continuing to stare at him from the front,
"Dean, stop arguing and get some damn sleep. It's over now. Come on, you've earned it."
Well that certainly seemed to make sense in the way that only Roman really could. The words seemed to buzz around his head like hornets and with every part of his system in mutiny, Dean sunk back and accepted the truth. He couldn't have stayed awake if he'd tried to. Plus, he really, really needed sleep.
"Okay," he mumbled and god he sounded out of it, "Maybe for, like, a little while."
Someone snorted—probably Seth—and the big hand moved up to arrange the makeshift blanket, pulling the material over his torso and tucking it round him as best as he could, given that Roman was still riding shotgun and fucking contorted half out of his seat. Dean let him do it, watching semi-conscious and when he looked up again the grey eyes were soft,
"Go to sleep Dean. It's okay, we got you."
He knew they did. He didn't ever doubt it.
Lazily he glanced back over to the rear view and yep, there was Seth's gaze, holding him tight. The brown eyes radiated warmth and compassion and mingled with the grey orbs until he was circled with love. Giving in, Dean let his eyelids close heavily and let out a sigh he didn't know he'd kept in.
"Wake you up when we get there man," Seth mumbled somewhere on a distant shore, as Dean's battered consciousness took a dive off a cliff. It was a nice cliff though. A safe and soft one and the falling was welcomed instead of feared. Before he dropped completely however, a sudden thought came to him and he struggled to get it out, aware that the words were slurred and uneven but hoping that they would be understood just as well. He probably wouldn't remember it when he was woke again, or be able to say it without a blush. It was simple enough, but he was Dean fucking Ambrose and emotion and vulnerability did not come cheap,
"Th'nks assholes."
The two simple words—or maybe one and a half words—were all he managed before the darkness took hold, although even then there was a vague something. A hand on his kneecap and a voice in the dark.
"Any time babe, any time. You know we'll always be there."
Because he wasn't just Dean Ambrose. They were The Shield.
There we are. Finito! And I'll be honest, for the first time in three years, I'm not ready to move onto the next project. I've had a lot happen in the last year or two and it's meant that I write a lot slower than I used to. I'm still working on stories, but I don't like to publish until I'm done or nearly done to avoid giving you the horror that is following a story that never gets an ending!
However, I plan to be back in a month's time with something for you, which will either be another Lauren and Dean, or a Lockdown movie rewrite with an extra character added in, since I'm currently working on both. In the future, I would also love to write another Little Brother story and, of course, more Police AU's. However, for now, I'm just going to focus on getting something new written up. Hope you'll all be there to cheer on my next project. I won't be gone for long, I promise, and thanks for all your support in the meantime :)