The output of support was overwhelming.

Fans from all over the world, people he didn't even think would watch hockey, had been sending him condolences left and right. Of course, there were a few unsavory characters that were selfish in their well wishes – hoping his grief wouldn't impact his play on the ice too hard. Dean Ambrose shrugged it off. For every ten people, there was going to be at least one asshole.

Nevertheless, he needed to brush aside all anguish and hurt. He needed to be back in Los Angeles before tomorrow night's game. His coach suggested he take more off in dealing with his grief but Dean wouldn't hear of it. He needed to be on the ice to be distracted.

He sat down on the porch outside, sipping hot chocolate and checking his Twitter mentions when his mother joined him. "I was looking for you. I was hoping you didn't take off before I had a chance to say goodbye." Melissa Ambrose sat next to her youngest son. Slender with long blonde hair and sharp hazel eyes, Melissa prided herself on being the biggest cheerleader for her children. Both of her sons credited her unwavering support as a big factor in their successes.

"Nah, I wouldn't leave without saying goodbye to my favorite girl." Dean smiled. "I was just out here reflecting on everything."

Melissa smiled and took a sip of hot chocolate. "Your dad was very proud of you, Dean. He watched all of the games and bragged to everyone he knew that his son was the NHL's leading scorer," Melissa smiled. "And when you won the Stanley Cup last season, he really couldn't shut up about it!"

Dean grinned. If anyone loved hockey, it was his father. He was the reason why Dean picked up a hockey stick to begin with. Years of ice skating lessons followed and a successful career in college where he scouted by many different teams, he signed with the Los Angeles Kings and transported himself to a land of debauchery, beaches, and women. He offered to move his family to L.A. but his father wouldn't hear of it. We're based here and we're staying here, he once proclaimed. It didn't mean they wouldn't visit but if Dean wanted more than a weeklong stay from his folks and brother, it meant him going to Chicago.

The last time he was in Chicago, it was during the summer after he won the Cup. He was allowed to bring it with him and everyone took turns posing and taking pictures with it. His father got a real kick out of it and used the cup as a makeshift margarita bowl for a family celebration in Dean's honor.

Dean didn't realize he would be back so soon under more unfortunate circumstances. "He was always a huge hockey fan." He stated.

"He was your number fan!" Melissa grinned. "I want you to remember that as you travel back."

"I'll never forget it," Dean shuddered a little as a cold gush swept through the front porch. "The offer to move to L.A. still stands, Mom."

"My life is here in Lincoln Park." She proudly stated. "I've been here all my life and I don't plan on leaving quite yet. Besides you need to come back to when times get hard again."

Dean was about to ask her what she meant but it occurred to him she was talking about the infamous lockouts in 2004 and 2012. He went to Europe to play and keep up on his skills, refusing to be a sitting doormat at his home in Redondo Beach. When the negotiations concluded, Dean returned home and completed the season along with his fellow teammates. "I wouldn't say things were hard, per se." Dean recalled, fondly remember the time he spent entertaining groupies between games. "But it wasn't ideal, yes."

"Still, you have a place to come home if that happens again. Heaven forbid…" Melissa shook her head.

"I'm pretty comfortable if you're inquiring about me financially," Dean politely reminded his mother. Despite signing a huge multimillion-dollar contract, his mother somehow got in her head that he was still the struggling college student who often went to bed hungry.

"I just want to make sure you're okay." She smiled again. She glanced down at the fancy Cartier watch Dean gifted to her last Christmas. "You need to head to the airport, honey. You're going to miss your flight."

Dean stared out into the snow-covered street. He wasn't entirely sure he was going to go anywhere at that point. "I'll get ready. Are you sure you'll be okay? I can always cancel my flight and stay a few more days."

"You staying here isn't going to help anyone and you're going to be bored just watching over me." Melissa reached over and grabbed her son's hand, squeezing it tight. "I'll be fine, Dean."

Dean got up and pulled his mother into a long and tight embrace. "If you want me to come home, just say the word. If you want to move to L.A., just say the word."

"I'll be fine here, don't worry about me. Worry about defending your title, okay?" Melissa encouraged her son. "I'll be rooting for you from here."

Dean gathered up his luggage and waited for the taxi to take him back to the airport. He kissed his mother one last time and left. She said she was going to be okay and he believed her. He just hoped she wouldn't be so lonely during the upcoming winter months.

His father was everything to her and the family. His absence was going to be largely felt.