A/N: So I write fluff for this fanfic again. Sorry if it's awful.
Warnings: Mental disorders (obviously), swearing, flashbacks of Dean/Moxley/Jonathan's past, which consists of kidnap, rape, and public humiliation. This is all a work of fiction and I do not confirm that anything mentioned here is/has been true. I am not, in any way, thinking that rape and sexual abuse are okay.
The show was finally done and Seth made his way back to the locker room after his match with Ryback, his body aching and his head felt as if it was ran over by a steam roller. The crowd had picked up a chant about his time in Cyberfights so that was a bit of a bummer.
The only good thing that came out of this night was that Dean didn't get in much trouble, just a talk with Hunter and Steph and that was it. The two-toned man was relieved, of course, but he knew that Hunter wasn't going to accept a slip-up like that next time, especially if said slip-up would happen in the middle of a televised show.
Seth stashed his gear and clothes into his bag and turned to leave, only to almost suffer a heart attack when confronted by a very sneaky Randy Orton leaning against the door frame. The tatted man seemed to be amused at the champion's jolt, waiting until the younger superstar had settled down before saying, "So…Cyberfights, huh?"
Seth rolled his eyes. "Ugh, if you're just going to make me feel even worse, don't bother. I couldn't possibly feel any more like shit after what happened tonight."
"That's not what I came here for," Randy picked at his nails before continuing. "What in the fuck happened to Ambrose back there? Why was he calling you Tyler? And yeah, I know he has Multiple Personality or whatever, but why would he still call you that?"
"It's what he, Moxley, came to know me as. He had a brief visit back in Ring of Honor, though we never had a match together. Mox became so used to calling me Tyler that even when he had a new personality, he'd still call me that whenever he'd, y'know, take over."
Randy just stared at him, confused. "You lost me."
Seth breathed out a quick sigh of frustration. "Whatever. I'm not going to explain all that again."
Dean appeared behind Randy, looking a bit surprised to find that Seth has a visitor other than him. "Am I interrupting?"
Randy turned to him and clapped him on the shoulder. "Nah, man. I was just asking Rollins what happened out there. No offense but you need help, dude."
Dean gave him a playful smile. "Man, if I had a dollar for every time someone told me that, I'd be able to buy a PS4 or something."
"Probably something even more expensive." Seth joined in as he grabbed his bag. Randy wished them a good night before going back to his locker room to get his own gear.
The Lunatic turned his attention back to Seth. "If you had to explain my incredibly complicated-to-explain disorder to someone again, I'm sorry."
Seth shook his head, turning off the lights in his locker room and closing the door. "Nah, it's not that hard to explain when you're used to it. It's kinda like memorizing lines for a play."
"Of course, you would know something about that, right?"
"Shut up. So what did you have in mind, exactly?"
The blonde resisted the urge to smile, keeping that perfectly-trained poker face as his current expression. "We just have to wait until we get back to the hotel."
They got to the parking lot, the two deciding that Seth's car was better to ride in than Dean's beat-up pick-up truck, no matter how well it can still run. They drove in silence the rest of the way: Dean sitting in the passenger seat, his head leaned back against the headrest as his eyes were closed. Seth catalogued that as something that had to do with Dean 'communicating' with his alters. The faint snore was what made him change his mind. Or maybe he's just sleeping.
After a good fifteen minutes of driving, they finally arrived at the hotel. Seth looked over at where Dean sat, pouting a bit when he saw that the Lunatic Fringe was still asleep. Without looking away, Seth slammed his palm against the car's horn, jolting the blonde awake.
Dean sat up abruptly on his seat, his eyes wild and his hands held up and ready to strike any threat. Seth tried to hide a giggle but the blonde caught it. "You fucking asshole." He muttered as he opened the door on his side and exited the car. Seth followed his movements, mumbling an apology to Dean as they walked into the building.
They were in the elevator when Dean started to have that far-off look again and Seth knew that what he was seeing in front of him was just a vacant body with no prominent alter.
'Okay,' He thought to himself. 'So he doesn't need to close his eyes to talk, then.'
Every information he knows about Ambrose is crucial and even just the slightest twitch could mean something important. Seth knows that his lover's neck twitches in between switching, he knows every mannerism the three have: Dean likes to clench and unclench his fists when bored or threatened, Moxley's hands are a lot twitchier and he tends to hold up his hand to point at someone with his hand looking slightly like a crooked rock hand gesture and Jonathan wipes at his jeans and tap at his collarbone.
They reached their designated floor and Seth gently shook Dean back, the latter's eyes becoming more focused as he grabbed their bags. The walk down the hallway was silent and awkward so Seth was more than relieved, and a little excited, when they finally got inside Dean's room. They set their bags down by the foot of the bed and Dean sat down on the mattress, his hands on either side of him and he looked up at Seth like a child expecting a gift.
Seth crossed his arms and said, "So, what did you have in mind?"
Dean reached down to open the champion's bag, digging past the WWE World Heavyweight title belt before pulling out Seth's red silk tie. He covered his eyes with the cloth and reached back to tie it at the back of his head. Meanwhile, Seth watched him, a bit intrigued as to what the other was planning.
"Alright," Dean finally answered once he was finished tying the garment. "Your reminder to whenever I change is by my eyes, right?" Seth nodded but remembered the Dean couldn't see him so he made his confirmation vocal.
Dean's head jerked a bit instead of fully nodding. "Well, you're gonna try to figure out exactly what makes us tick, okay? Oh, you're probably still standing, huh?" The blonde man reached his left hand out, gripping onto Seth's wrist when he found it. "Sit down 'cause we're gonna take a while. I'm going to teach you how we knew what our triggers are."
"Wait, triggers?"
"Yeah, the stuff that makes us come out. Mox and Jonathan aren't the only alters I have, y'know."
Seth's brown eyes widened at the thought of Dean having more alters. "Wait, Dean, I don't know if I could do this."
"Sure you can. Alright, let's get started."
Dean moved up on the bed until he reached the headboard. He leaned against it, his head tilted back, legs stretched out in front of him and his hands lay palm-down against his thighs. He took several deep breaths before speaking up. "You still with me?"
Seth swallowed the nervous lump in his throat and muttered a "Yes."
Dean nodded this time. "Good, because I'm gonna have each and every one of us tell you about…well…us. I'll be telling you everything about me, Dean, last. You ready?"
The two-toned man rested his hand on Dean's leg and squeezed once and Dean understood. The Lunatic Fringe took one last deep breath (as Dean, anyway) before going silent. The silence was making Seth worry. What if something goes wrong and he wouldn't know what to do? After a few more seconds of unbearable stillness, the man's neck twitched briefly and 'Dean's' lips quirked up to a smirk, though only the right side of his face seemed to be showcasing it.
"Guess who?" The alter said with an amused voice. Seth looked down at the blonde's hands and sure enough, the twitching of the fingers gave the identity of the alter away.
"Hey, Mox." Seth gave a small smile, knowing that the ultraviolent man wouldn't see it.
Moxley's hands were jerking, as if they were anxious to get a hold of something, but he kept them on his lap.
"So, my name is Jon Moxley. I am a few months older, quote-unquote, than Dean because I've been with Jonathan longer than Dean has so we kind of age differently. I existed when Jonathan started to doubt his self-worth and I fully came to be when he was doing self-harm. I am the-" He raised his hands up but kept his wrists in contact with his jeans as he made a quote-unquote gesture. "Second layer of the Jonathan-Moxley-Dean onion and I only come out when the situation becomes extremely out of hand or when I see the situation as too much for Ambrose to handle. Or when there's a fight that could possibly harm Dean, then I step in. I've been with the Core for a lot longer than he lets on, even as young as the age of five. He thought that I was just an imaginary friend and that I would go away as he grew up. But life got tougher in the streets of Cinci and that's how I was technically born."
He cleared his throat before continuing. "I'm not saying that glass shards and forks and nails doesn't hurt me but I have a higher tolerance of pain so there's that. My triggers for when I come out are situations of violence, feelings of resentment, threat and that's probably it. You have any questions for me?"
Seth pursed his lips. "You're older than Dean by a few months."
"Yeah?"
"How do you celebrate birthdays?"
"Well," Jon lets out laugh that seemed more like a huffy breath than actual laughter. "Here's the thing: Between ourselves, we celebrate our birthdays separately but we celebrate Jonathan's birthday as our own for everyone to see. When someone asks Dean, or me, when our birthday is, we reply with Jonathan's birthday. You get where I'm going with here?"
Seth squeezed at Mox's leg and Jon understood the signal as well. "One last question."
Mox nodded. "Shoot."
"How did you come to be?"
Mox's face squinted a bit and Seth didn't need to see his eyes to know that Jon's eyes were narrowed. "I already explained it to you-"
"No, I mean, how?"
Moxley calmed and became silent. Seth didn't know if he was switching or if he was talking to Dean.
[Flashback]
It was a Monday after school when it happened. Jonathan was just walking down the street, one of the straps of his bag pack ruined as he held on to the other one, dragging it along as he walked.
School that day was terrible: He got beat up by a couple of guys from the football team because they thought he was checking out the quarterback's girl. In his defense, she wasn't even that hot, which only seemed to have angered the beefed-up boneheads even more. They busted his lip, gave him a black eye and took his lunch money, which was a measly 15 dollars.
Jonathan decided to walk a bit faster when he neared a very familiar street corner. He saw his mom in the corner of his eye, leaning against a filthy brick wall, smoking a cigarette. The seventeen year-old barely made it past the next block when he was suddenly yanked back into a dark alley, his bag forgotten on the sidewalk.
He was pushed against a wall, a large hand covered his mouth with a damp cloth. Jonathan kicked and clawed at the attacker but was out like a light a few seconds after inhaling a strange odor from the filthy rag.
He was kept in an old hotel room, tied to a chair and naked as the day he was born, only to be raped over and over again until the seat was dripping blood at the sides from his probably destroyed ass and his eyes were filled with tears. A few times, he was whipped with an old belt, the metal clasp making contact with his pale skin until his back and thighs were mottled with dark bruises and cuts. The whole time, his kidnapper wore a plain white mask with holes for his eyes. Jonathan decided that it was better that way. He didn't want to see the fucker's face every time he closed his eyes to sleep. He wanted to go home. Any place was better than here. When he was allowed to go back to his own home, it made him decide that he would never go outside again.
He was brought to the park downtown and, right there in front of mothers, their sons, young and old people, he was stripped of his tattered jeans and underwear and was ruthlessly abused. His captor laughed at his pain and tears, relishing the minor's screams and pleads of mercy. Jonathan, in those few days, knew nothing but to beg: Beg for his life to not be cut short, beg for sleep and rest and nourishment, beg to not be raped multiple times a day. Now, in the most humiliating and degrading moment of his life, he learned how to beg for strangers to not look at him. But people looked on, horrified but did nothing to stop it.
Finally, it was over but Jonathan found himself tied naked to a tree with the words "SLUT" spraypainted on his bare stomach. It took the police a while to get to him, but it was enough time for Jon to start talking to Jonathan as a voice in his head.
Jonathan started to experience something weird during the time he was held as a sex toy. He started to hear a voice in his head, telling him to break free of his bonds. He couldn't explain it and he didn't want to think about it. He needed to get away from the horrid nightmare and he was willing to do anything.
Since then, Jonathan gave full control of his body over to his new self, Jon Moxley. He felt bad sitting back in his own subconscious and watching people mock and criticize Mox but he seemed to be doing just fine.
Jonathan was finally safe but he knew that they would never be normal again.
[Flashback ends]
"Mox?" Seth called, straddling Jon's hips to get a bit closer. He slapped at the blonde's cheeks, yanked the soft hair and screamed into his ear and still nothing. Seth was starting to get desperate. He didn't know what to do anymore to bring Jon back from whatever trance he got himself into.
"Jon? Hey, come back, man!" The champion's voice shook a bit as he yanked the tie down until it hung around the other man's neck. He then cupped Jon's face with both hands and looked into his eyes, which appeared distant and somehow fearful, as if he was reminiscing a bad memory.
After a while, Jon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, his lips quirking up to that ever-playful smirk. "You're not supposed to take off the blindfold until we're done." He said, keeping his eyes closed as he reached for the tie again.
Seth looked at him with concern as the alter replaced the garment back on his eyes and settled his hands on his lap once more. More silence followed and the two-toned man obediently waited for the next personality to come out. A full minute went by before the telltale neck twitch happened and the man (whoever he may be at the moment) bit his bottom lip.
"Seth?" He called out, his voice sounding scared and confused. He reached up for the blindfold but the younger wrestler stopped him.
"It was Dean's idea," The Armenian explained and Jonathan lowered his hand back down to his lap. "Do you know what to do?"
"Yeah," The blonde took a moment before speaking. "I'm Jonathan Good and I'm the main personality or the Core. I am the same age as Jon Moxley and I am the person that he and Dean are supposed to protect. My triggers are extreme fear and paranoia, unhappiness and I come out whenever both protectors have an argument. I started to dissociate at a sort of late age of 17 and from then on, more and more problems have been stacked on my psyche. Questions?"
"Uh…" Seth bit his lips to hold back the possibly triggering question. "I think it's best if I didn't ask the question. Thanks, Jonathan."
Jonathan nodded and gave him a thankful smile, probably for the reason that Seth was considerate enough to not ask the question he had in mind. He leaned his head back against the wooden headboard again and it was time to wait again.
Even though the switching process was short, it made Seth anxious. He didn't like to wait, especially if it involved Dean and his alters. If he took too long between switching, then something must be horribly wrong and the younger wrestler wouldn't know what to do.
Seth looked at his lover's face. Not much to look at because his eyes were covered and it was a shame because they're really pretty, most notably when the blonde was swapping between alters. Those blue-grays (Though, Seth would prefer to call them 'baby-blues') always had this vacant look in them and it made the older man appear uncharacteristically vulnerable. It wasn't something Seth was would get used to, since each alter always filled the orbs with such intense emotion: Moxley showcasing anger and intimidating dominance whilst Jonathan was always exhibiting fear and submissiveness in the orbs. Dean was probably the only one to find the perfect balance and it was what drew the two-toned man in from the moment they first met in FCW.
The World Heavyweight champion was snapped out of his thoughts when he felt Dean's thigh jerk under his hand. He looked up and was a bit puzzled when he saw that 'Dean' was slowly starting to strip out of his clothes, first his jacket then he pulled his black shirt over his head and threw it aside.
Seth wasn't complaining. Don't get him wrong: He's more than happy to see his lover strip in front of him but it wasn't the same when it's not him. "Uh, Dean?" He croaked out, guessing that it's probably Dean and the Lunatic Fringe was feeling a bit too warm, even though the AC was full blast and Seth still felt cold under his jacket.
The alter stopped and flashed Seth a flirtatious, toothy grin. "Hey, hot stuff," He greeted, leaning forward until he was on his hands and knees and his face just a few inches from Seth's. "I don't know what the blindfold is for but I'm not complaining. I think it's pretty kinky of you to blind me like this."
Seth could feel his face heat up as he heard 'Dean's' voice talk in such a way. Seth still didn't know who this alter was, didn't know if it was just Mox trying to make a pass at him again but the Armenian knew that Moxley wasn't this…rowdy.
The younger superstar shivered when he felt a hand on his stomach, he barely noticed that the hem of shirt was pushed up to his armpits. The highly-suggestive man stopped and chuckled a bit.
"Oh, right. Ambrose wanted me to do something," He flopped back to the same sitting position as before. "Well, my name doesn't matter. All you need to know about me is that I get whatever I want, whenever I want. Men and women just line up in front of me on their hands and knees, waiting to suck and get pounded by my dick. My triggers are when Deanie boy is feeling a bit too frisky without someone to help with that, feelings of extreme arousal and desperation."
Seth focused his attention on the alter's hands, which were doing either very crude and provocative hand movements or making flicking actions with his thumb and middle finger.
"Well, Ambrose is telling me to get a move-on so I'll see you soon, buttercup." And with that it was silent again, Seth settling his hand on Dean's right one. It took a few seconds longer before he was alerted by the neck twitches and he was filled with nervous anticipation to see who this was.
The blonde took a deep breath before saying, "Hello. Uh, okay, Dean told me what to do here so I'm gonna make this quick. I don't have a name and I'm not a frequent alter but I am basically the only positive alter that we have. I help the primary protectors in getting the Core under control when he gets overcome by paranoia and delusions and I act as their all-around cheerleader, saying words of encouragement whenever one of them feels down and reminding them of their accomplishments and goals. I don't really have that many triggers since I don't come out so often but, like Moxley, I come out as a last resort tactic. Triggers include extreme depression and loneliness. That's it."
Before Seth could say anything else, the alter was already gone and was probably swapping with Dean right now. He traced random patterns on his lover's bare stomach, fighting the urge to lean forward and plant a kiss on the smooth, toned flesh. He decided to settle on laying his head down on Dean's belly and wait until he surfaces.
It didn't take long but Dean's voice still startled the younger man. "Seth, what are you doing?"
Seth sat up straight and cleared his throat. "I was just…uh…"
Dean flashed a smile, his dimples making him looking adorable and Seth wanted nothing more than to suck at them. "Stay focused, champ. You might need this info in the future."
The Lunatic Fringe adjusted the blindfold so it didn't inch down any further. "So, you and the rest of the world know me by Dean Ambrose. I'm probably the youngest of all the alters at 29 years of age. I am the primary abuse-taker and the mask for Jonathan's thoughts so he could communicate with the outside world but not directly. I came to be when Jon was having way too much fun putting our body on the line in the indies and in that time, I was created and I took Mox's place as the primary protector. I don't really have any triggers because I am the mask but situations of near-death and feelings of adrenaline and anxiety. Questions?"
Seth pulled the blindfold down as he straddled Dean's hips, his brown eyes gazing into bright baby blues. The champion leaned down to kiss his lover's lips, loving the squeak of surprise that came from Dean's mouth. Eventually, Dean melted into the kiss, bringing a hand up to the back of the two-toned man's head to pull him a bit closer.
The kiss itself was soft and slow, which was something Dean wasn't used to but he tried not to let his teeth get involved in such a sweet act. Seth's mouth tasted faintly like strawberries and the Lunatic Fringe briefly wondered why. But he pushed the curiosity into the back of his head to worry about later. Right now, he focused on how soft and sweet Seth's lips were and it was getting harder and harder for Dean to not bite the bottom one.
Eventually, they pulled away for air, Dean's eyes never leaving Seth's brown ones. "So, have you learned something today?"
Seth nodded and leaned until his and Dean's foreheads touched. "You have no idea how much."
*EDIT* The next chapter will be the FINAL chapter, and probably an epilogue. Thank you guys so much for supporting this fanfic and for reviewing/faving/following it. I really appreciate it! I'll see you in the final chapter!~