Some confused Dean coming up in this chapter but we also get a bit more of a look into his past. Plus some caring Roman just 'cus, hope you like it!
Mandy, Well look out because the two of them are going to be even cuter in this chapter...or at least I hope they are! Dean is going to need lots of taking care of after having his head smushed *waves fist at Kane*
Moxley Gal1, Don't you worry because the big reveal of the engagement is coming up pretty soon so I'll just tease that so I don't ruin the surprise of how and where people find out (but trust me they do!)
Wolfgirl2013, I know, watching that match back he looks so confused at the end like he can't work out what happened. Luckily he's got Lauren there to look after him, because boy he needs it in this one!
Minnie1015, For some reason the chapters where I write matches end up far longer than the others! Plus that match was long as it was. Luckily I fast forwarded until I got to the Dean parts so it was okay!
Ohana1337, I loved Seth and Dean feuding during this period so I knew I had to try and tackle it somehow. Even though I'm happier the Shield are back together (presuming they still are when Dean comes back).
Skovko, Aww, I hope not, 8 months is too long! I'll stick with Seth saying late spring until it's no longer late spring and then I'll concede that maybe it will be summerslam, but until then I shall hope!
LunaticxLass, Yay, glad you're looking forward to concussed Dean because I'll be honest, this might be one of the sweetest chapters that I have ever written, although I'll leave the final judgement up to you!
HannonsPen, Yeah, the girl just cannot stay back but then again, Dean kinda does get himself into some scrapes too and especially now that Seth is prime enemy number one! Still, on the plus side him being hurt means lots of cuteness!
Here comes the aftermath...
Handle With Care
Roman helped me get Dean back to our hotel room since my poor battered man was still a bewildered ball of mush and moving like he lacked the strength to even lift his feet up in a way that I have no problem admitting totally freaked me out. I fumbled the key card in the lock and looked back at them,
"He – he's going to get better right?"
Because somewhere in the panicky recesses of my cranium I was beginning to fear that he would never perk up again and that the Dean I had known and loved so very faithfully had been lost to me the second the top of his beautiful head had hit the mat.
Roman snorted gently,
"Baby girl he'll be perfect,"
"Really?"
"Uce here needs to sleep it off is all."
He grunted and then shifted my prone boyfriend a little higher as the fact that he had basically hauled him from the parking lot and had been through a brutal ladder match himself that evening began to tell in a sudden pained wince, which made me fumble the key card more frantically and then curse the man responsible for the fiddly design. Because it had to be a man right?
"Oh come on you stupid thing, get in there already."
Dean bobbed his head up and then blinked in bewilderment into the bright lights of the long hotel hall and much like he couldn't even begin to figure what had happened to him or where in the hell he even was. His blue eyes were glassy and his head seemed so heavy that he was having a hard time simply lifting it up and frankly the sooner I got him into bed safely and let his broken body heal the better the both of us would feel I hoped. He hummed out a croaky little note of confusion,
"Where are we?"
"The hotel uce."
"But I need t' beat Seth, need t' stop him gettin' th' briefcase," Dean began to groggily try and pull himself back but fortunately in that moment I managed to unlock the threshold and then flung the door wide like an enthusiastic realtor showing some happy couple the best thing on the market and looking to make the big reveal on a property that had a central sweeping staircase and an atrium up above. No such luck though, since instead our plain hotel room stared back at us, complete with carpet in a hue of thick maroon and mass produced paintings hung up on the walls crookedly in the hopes that the patrons might mistake them for originals and figure they were staying in a real swanky place.
Roman grunted,
"You can get him tomorrow uce, but right now you gotta sleep babe."
I hurried in ahead and then paved the way for the two of them to follow me by frantically flipping on the little bedside lights and then hovering awkwardly as the biggest man in our acquaintance hauled my fiancé in through the door and then manoeuvred him into place next to the mattress before opening his grip up and finally letting him fall back.
"Oof – ,"
Dean hit the mattress backwards clumsily and then bounced on the springs but otherwise remained in place, blinking his bewildered eyes up at the ceiling and then frowning like he was trying to guess the meaning of life. In response to it I found myself wishing that he was angry because that was the trait I had come to know well and evidently the one that I also found comforting in times of general messiness but had never realized before. Basically I needed my hot fired up man back and Roman knew it too,
"Lauren trust me alright? His ass is going to be fine in the morning."
"But what do I do now?"
I was totally at sea and unsure of whether my instinctive need to look after him was helpful or else potentially the last thing he might need since I figured that big tough macho man wrestlers might have handled concussion in separate ways to everyone else.
Roman smiled at me softly,
"Be there for him, make sure he gets his ass showered and into that bed and then pretend you're listening when his ass starts talking, because believe me he will start talking about crap and not a whole lot of it is gonna make sense either."
I lifted a brow,
"Um, is this you speaking from experience?"
He snorted wryly in response to me,
"Oh yeah."
But if nothing else then at least his chuckle was reassuring since he was basically the only other human being in creation that came close to loving Dean as fiercely as I did and so therefore if he wasn't freaking out and panicking then it must have meant that I didn't have to either I guessed. Blowing a breath out I leaned in towards my boyfriend and then carded my fingers soothingly through his wet hair and his blue eyes floated upwards and then blinked at me a little,
"You're fuckin' hot."
Roman grunted,
"Guess that's my cue to leave."
In normal circumstances I probably would have followed him to the doorway and then given him an over the top hug and thanked him profusely for helping me out with things, except that suddenly Dean seized my hand up possessively and then clung onto it like he was seeing me for quite possibly the first time and wasn't prepared to let me leave him ever and so instead I simply waved my free fingers across the room,
"Thanks for the assist big guy."
Brown eyes smiled,
"You know it."
He pulled the door behind him and left the two of us alone and in the silence I let my eyes slide shut briefly and tried to haul a breath in which promptly stuck in my throat and then made me choke on the thick mix of feelings that I found lodged in place like a big sticky ball,
"Hey – ,"
"Huh?" I blinked in minor bewilderment and then looked across to the man by my side, who was gazing up at me in adorable confusion that was laced with mild worry,
"You're too hot to cry."
"I'm not crying, I'm okay."
"Princess?"
"Uh huh."
He blinked,
"You're my Princess?"
He seemed to be trying to figure it out and in response I shifted myself closer towards him and then laid my head in over his chest, feeling as the hand which was tangled around my fingers tightened instinctively like he would never let go, even though I strongly doubted he knew what was happening or could remember having been planted on his head by a guy. I sighed against his sweaty top wearily ignoring the sweat smells and sense of sogginess up against my cheek and instead trying to suck up every fragment of his fragrance like I would possibly never get another chance at it again and at the same time beginning to trace circles on his forearm which was a move that I knew from experience he loved.
"You're going to be okay," I whispered, "I'll look after you."
"Don't wan' her to frighten you away an' shit."
"Who?"
Dean grunted back at me and then shuffled himself a little, like he was preparing to bed himself in for the night and which briefly threw him off whichever path his head had been on to the point that I began to assume he had forgot.
Evidently not.
"My mom," Dean waved his hand around loosely, "She can be – like – the literal worst sometimes, when she's on the booze or whatever an' she's got this thing where she kinda tends not to like other women. M' not – could never fuckin' figure it out but it's a thing with her an' m' – like – ninety percent certain she'll say some shit to make you sad an' I hate seein' you sad an' – ,"
He tailed off aimlessly and then proceeded to stare intently at a point over my head, but with such total conviction that I actually looked with him only to be greeted by a blank wall.
Oh boy.
Moving myself up I managed to bring back his attentions by pecking him ever so carefully on the lips and then cupping his face between my hands to keep his focus as I thumbed over his cheekbones,
"I'm okay, I'll be fine."
"You still love me right?"
I bit my lip mildly because the topic was one we had broached once before and was something that he seemed to rapidly fall back on whenever he ended up hurt or depressed. Somewhere beneath the bluster and the lunatic fringe stuff was a fear of abandonment that shattered my heart, because I knew how it felt to be alone and miserable and hated with a passion that had he ever experienced that and the fact that somebody had made him feel that way.
I wondered briefly if it had maybe been his mom.
Instead of following that thought further however I instead planted another reassuring kiss down, lengthening it so he hopefully forgot about his troubles and which I could only assume somehow managed to work when something hidden in his pants twitched mildly.
I broke the kiss grinning,
"I love you more than anything in the world and I promise I always will, so you're not getting rid of me."
"Princess – ," Dean murmured before lifting a hand up and then planting it unsubtly right across my breast but then grinning with such a look of cheeky excitement that I couldn't find it in myself to pretend to be mad,
"Hey there handsy."
"So fuckin' beautiful, can't believe you're with me."
"It's worse than that, we're engaged."
Dean blinked up at me in a blue eyed astonishment and then pulled my hand up suddenly towards his face to obviously hunt for the evidence to prove my statement but which required him having to physically examine the whole thing like he thought the proof might be skin colored or hidden or potentially even completely invisible to the naked eye.
"We are?"
"Uh huh,"
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a concealed jewellery pouch before producing the twisted and oh so precious silver ring that made me brighten like a variant form of firefly whenever I saw the beautiful gemstones catch the light and start to bling.
"I picked that right?"
"You sure did mister," I chuckled as I went to put it back on, since there were no longer any long lost relatives prowling around us hoping to make our lives a misery or make a storyline out from our love.
"Whoa – ,"
Dean stopped me and then reached out towards it before taking it carefully into his palm of his and then poking out his tongue in a measure of confusion as he insisted on being the one to slide it back on. My heart skipped a little as his rough hands smoothed over me, because even though his brain was utterly scrambled it was like he was proposing all over again and I laughed as it finally slotted onto my ring finger before bending down to kiss him,
"I accept, again."
Dean grunted back and then grazed my arm lightly but evidently the exertion of the pseudo-proposal had taken little energy he had seemingly had left and as he shut his eyes and let his arm fall back heavily I remembered the advice the big guy had thrown out.
Make sure he gets his ass showered and into bed.
Right.
It sounded to me like a sensible plan and particularly since I figured he would hate to wake up later still icky and sweaty and in his uncomfortable wrestling clothes. To that end therefore I leaned over him further and then shunted his battered shoulders,
"Dean?"
"Huh, nuh, wha – ,"
He burst into wakefulness like a bomb had gone off around us or maybe as if the warning claxons had started to blare and so I put my hands up to show there wasn't an emergency and then brushed my fingers with patience through his hair,
"It's okay, everything's fine, but we need to get you showered."
"Shower?"
It was like he had never heard the word before and so in reply I nodded like the confusion wasn't frightening and instead chose to simply try and baby him through.
"Uh huh, we need to get these icky clothes off you, how does that sound?"
Dean grunted wryly,
"Naked."
"Yep, that's the plan."
He hummed at me,
"Dirty girl."
Pretty evidently even when his brain had been extracted, placed in a blender and then poured back into his head, his need for sexy time had remained in situ and oddly I found that a reassuring sign, since it let me know that the rest of him was still there also and merely a little bit battered and mixed up. In return I rolled my eyes and then shuffled myself lower to where I could unbutton his jean fronts and which made him both snort and then draw a sleepy smile.
Ugh.
Even concussed he was too freaking adorable.
Horny and adorable –
But that was okay.
Having unbuttoned them the next part of the procedure was trying to work out how to get his pants fully off since he was lying on his back showing no signs of moving and I would somehow have to get them down over his ass. In the end I resorted to a sort of peeling action but it took a heap of effort and a lot of hard work since at certain points I had to try and sort of roll him over and which he responded to by humming and burying his head into my crotch.
"Fuckin' love you Princess, smellin' all sexy and takin' my clothes off – ,"
I ignored his ramblings and finally managed to rip off the denims with a last almighty haul that propelled me backwards and across the room but also made me throw up my arms in a triumph that I whooped at and which made my poor half-conscious man jump,
"Wha – ,"
"Oops, sorry."
His shirt was the next thing and although I briefly toyed with simply cutting the thing up, I came to the conclusion that using scissors was predatory and I would feel like I had drugged him and was keeping him locked up and which possibly hinted at me having watched too many movies but regardless of that meant more pulling and grunt work.
Five minutes more to be exact.
But in spite of that finally I had him stripped to his boxers and theoretically at least good and ready to be washed. Except for the fact that at some point through the unrobing he had managed to fall readily and fully to sleep, which seemed almost impossible given how much I had poked at him but which his poor battered system evidently needed most. In fact it seemed mean to reach over and wake him, but then again I knew that his sleep would be better if he was warm and comfortable and feeling all fresh and so I grit my teeth and shook him a little while apologizing to him,
"Dean? I'm so sorry, I love you, wake up."
"Huh?"
Blue eyes blinked up at me in total confusion but to his credit he responded to my repeatedly tugging at him by slowly and sluggishly lifting himself up and even if it meant having to brace his weight against me, he still managed to do it and I was grateful for that.
"Come on future husband, let's get you showered."
He peered down at himself in surprise,
"M' not wearin' any clothes."
"Nope."
I kissed him on the forehead and then gently pulled him upright, before burrowing myself in tight beneath his shoulder as he stumbled like a zombie towards the bathroom in tiny steps and at one point nearly hammered us into the cupboards before putting out his hand and steadying himself.
"Fuck."
By the time we made it over the threshold he was actually trembling with the exertion of it all and keen not to waste what little energy was left to him, I flipped on the shower and then whipped his boxers off before guiding him slowly beneath the warm fountain which he barked in surprise at and then sunk back into a with a grunt.
"Is that good?" I murmured, rolling my sleeves up and trying to keep myself out of the stream as I lathered up some of his heavenly smelling body wash and then massaged it in gentle circles over his beaten up and bruised skin.
"Mmmm."
I took his exhalation as an affirmative and then reached over to soap up his sweat thickened hair but then stopped as he groped for my hand a little clumsily before sweetly planting my palm with a kiss that was barely there yet at the same time meant a million and one things that his heavily concussed brain would have struggled to say and I giggled a little in a wave of emotion and whispered through the torrent,
"I love you so much."
It turned out to have been the wrong thing to say to him, or possibly the right thing because I wasn't too sure since his hand then flashed out and hooked me around the waistline before hauling me in towards him.
I reacted too late,
"Dean, no – ,"
I squeaked as the water hit me in a downpour and promptly soaked my clothes straight through to the bone and was still trying to formulate the words to reply to it when he pulled me in closer and then wrapped me up tight, burying his head deep into my sodden hairline and pressing me against him like he could never get enough and with such a deep sense of sudden desperation that it made me melt a little and my body go limp.
Bliss.
"Princess, I won't let her scare you off I promise."
"You – you mean your mom?"
Evidently we had gone back and in response to my question Dean hugged me more fervently and then nodded his coarse stubble up and down my cheek,
"Gonna protect you."
"You always protect me."
"Don' wan' her tellin' you a whole lotta stuff."
"Like what?"
If I was honest then being stood fully clothed in the shower was probably at the bottom of my things-to-do list but it was palatable and even kind of nice all things considered when I was pressed face first into the slickened abs of my man. In fact it was so sort of fascinatingly soothing that I then nearly missed the next part of what he said.
"'Bout my past an' the shit I had to do to make money because she never brought home enough food for us to eat an' 'bout how I used to sell drugs for these couple 'a assholes who would beat me real bad if I tried to turn 'em down."
I blinked against his chest,
"I – you sold drugs?"
I knew he had strong opinions on that kind of stuff and also had a whole lot of background specialist knowledge that most regular people by and large didn't have. It was why he had known how to handle things in a second back when I had been roofied in the club nearly a year ago when Bray Wyatt had been stalking me and trying to get me alone with him.
He nodded,
"Didn't have a fuckin' choice but I hated it, never want you to find that shit out."
Um –
His open admission seemed to be pretty redundant given that he had flat out told me about it himself but the fact that he thought it would change how I felt about him cut me like a knife and made me rise up onto my toes,
"You know things like that only make me love you more right?"
Blue eyes sparkled beneath the water,
"Does?"
"Uh huh, because you are so incredibly amazing that you beat the odds and got yourself out and because you're my favorite person in existence and I couldn't live without you."
He kissed me then hard and I melted into it like some sort of collapsing soufflé to the point where he briefly even had to hold me up as the combination of his tongue scouting over my lip line and the fast falling water turned the clinch slippery and hot and probably would have maybe tipped things bubbling over had he not then trembled and buckled a little.
"Whoa,"
I pulled back from him and then pecked him on the jawline,
"Whoops, that's enough of that, let's get you into bed."
By the time I had manoeuvred him slowly back out of the shower and towelled him off to a point that he wouldn't stick to the sheets, Dean was practically dead on his feet again and only barely made the stumble across the bedroom before falling face down heavily into the quilt where he actually remained like some ylang-ylang scented corpse as I hurried around the room, stripping myself from my wet clothes clumsily and then scraping back my hair before scuttling over.
"Dean?"
"Mmmm?"
I again rolled him over and was greeted with a groggy but beautiful little smile and then by him hauling his battered body closer and nuzzling himself a little pillow on my lap.
"Are you okay?" I whispered gently, tousling my fingers through the ends of his wet hair,
"Will be."
"Good."
I flipped the covers over him and then continued to smooth his tangle as he drifted off to sleep, praying to the gods, the moon and nearly everything that when the morning rolled around I would have my fiancé back and he would once again be the vengeful, cuss-laden demon that had become my whole world in just ten short months.
"L've y' Princess."
I kissed his brow tenderly and held him a little closer,
"Love you right back."
Always nice to have a little bit of couple time and personally I think that concussed Dean is hella cute!
Next chapter we find out some more about his mother so hopefully I will see you all there!
