Disclaimer: These aren't mine, they belong to WWE. I'm not making any money so don't sue.

Notes: I am SO sorry! I had a terrible time getting this story to do what I wanted. Part three is coming!

DSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSR

Jericho tried not to sigh as he got his room assignment. He usually roomed with Christian, but Christian was on the Asian tour, so he'd been paired with Ambrose. He understood the reasoning behind it: Rollins was on the Asian leg of the overseas tour and Reigns was recovering from his emergency surgery, which left Ambrose on his own, and given his reputation, Stephanie and Hunter were reluctant to leave him to his own devices.

Still, he hated being Ambrose's appointed babysitter. He didn't have a problem with Ambrose per se, not like Christian and a good chunk of the locker room did; hell, he didn't think he'd said more than two words to the so-called Lunatic Fringe in the eighteen months Ambrose, Reigns, and Rollins had been part of the main roster, he just hated being made responsible for him.

When it came down to it, though, he was a company guy, and he couldn't bring himself to tell Stephanie no, so he took his key card and headed to the elevators. To his surprise, he found that the door to their room was slightly ajar. Pushing it open, he found Ambrose standing at the foot of one bed, rummaging through his suitcase.

Ambrose looked up in surprise when Jericho came in, "Can I help you?"

Jericho sighed, "I'm rooming with you."

Ambrose looked at him for a long moment before laughing, "So you're my babysitter, huh?"

Jericho sighed with relief, at least Ambrose wasn't angry or resentful about this. "Something like that."

Ambrose sighed, "I told Steph I'd be fine. I've been on overseas tours before." He glanced at Jericho, "If you want to room with your friends, I won't say anything."

Jericho smiled in spite of himself, "Nah, it's cool." He set down his own suitcase, "I'm gonna grab some dinner at a nice pub I know. Wanna come?"

Ambrose gave him a long, searching look before nodding, "Okay. I'll warn you, though, I'm not always the most entertaining company."

Jericho laughed, "No problem."

DSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSR

True to his word, Ambrose barely said anything except to order his food and beer. Jericho didn't mind though, he was tired and not really up to being chatty.

As they ate, Jericho kept stealing glances at Ambrose, he was nothing like what Jericho had heard. He was quiet and polite, answered any question Jericho asked but didn't try to start up a conversation.

Finally, while they were waiting for dessert, he looked at Jericho, "What time is it?"

"It's eight pm, London time," Jericho said. "Why?"

"Seth and I both promised Roman that we'd check in after we landed, but Roman's been taking advantage of his recovery to spend time with his daughter and I didn't want to call while they were out."

Jericho's eyes widened, he'd heard that Ambrose and Reigns had patched things up with Rollins, though the full story was still unknown, but he hadn't expected this.

Ambrose seemed oblivious to his confusion and scrolled through his contacts before dialing a number. The four watched as a smile came over his face.

"Hey Jojo, what're you doing on your daddy's phone?" Ambrose listened for a minute. "Did he give you permission? Okay, is he around? Oh, okay." Jojo seemed to have asked a question because Dean's smile widened.

"Where am I? I'm in England. Do you remember Uncle Seth and me showing you where we were going to be going? Yeah, I was going to Europe and Uncle Seth was going to Asia." He laughed at something on the other end of the phone. "England is part of Europe, sweetie."

Jericho laughed, having had similar conversations with his kids.

"Did you guys go to the zoo today? You did? Was it fun? You got to feed the giraffe? Cool!" Ambrose laughed as he listened to Jojo recount her day with her dad.

Jericho watched the conversation in amusement and amazement. No one in the locker room would believe that Dean Ambrose was so good with kids.

Ambrose listened to his phone, then, "Oh, he's coming downstairs? Okay, I'll see you when I get back. Love you, Jojo." After a second, he smiled. "Hey, Uce. No, we landed a couple of hours ago."

He frowned, "Dude, you were spending a day with your daughter, I didn't want to bother you. No, everything went fine, it was the usual overseas flight: Crowded, noisy, bad food, terrible movie."

Roman seemed to be warning him about something because Ambrose rolled his eyes, "Dude, she's probably gonna get twice the usual amount of souvenirs to make up for you being stuck at home. I make no promises, but I'll try. No, poor Jericho got stuck being my babysitter. Yes, I'll try and be good."

He smiled, "Right back at you, Uce. Bye."

He'd no sooner hung up than his phone rang, Jericho saw a worried look cross his face before he answered.

"Joey? What's wrong?" Ambrose rolled his eyes, "I packed a bottle into the front pocket of his backpack just in case he forgot or packed it in the wrong bag. Yeah, in the front pocket. Find it? Okay, give him a swat upside the head for me. Bye" He hung up with an exasperated sigh.

Jericho laughed, "Someone getting airsick?"

Ambrose laughed, "Seth. He thinks he put his ginger pills in his suitcase, not his carry-on. Joey wanted to know if it was possible for the pills to be someplace else."

That honestly surprised Jericho. From the way Christian and the others described the members of The Shield, he wasn't sure he'd trust Ambrose with a goldfish, yet what he was seeing with his own eyes was very different from what he'd heard.

DSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSRDSR

Over the next week, Jericho had come to the conclusion that the Dean Ambrose Christian and the others had described only existed in the locker room. In the locker room and in the ring, he could kind of see what they were talking about, but once they were out of the arena, Ambrose was a totally different person. He was still pretty quiet, but he was slowly coming out of his shell and turned out to be a really fun guy to be around. Jericho had been surprised to discover that they liked a lot of the same bands and similar senses of humor, though Ambrose's humor was a little more dry than his.

One of the biggest surprises was Dean's relationship to his former stablemates. From what he'd heard, Ambrose was the unstable, untrustworthy one, but in reality, he seemed to be the one running the show. He talked to Reigns and Rollins every day, even when he was dead on his feet. Making sure that Roman was taking it easy after his surgery, that Seth wasn't getting too stressed out and was staying away from sushi restaurants, which seemed to involve a funny story that Ambrose refused to tell him.

What really fascinated him was that while Ambrose fussed over his friends, he never wanted them to know if he wasn't feeling well. Jericho had watched as he took a call from Rollins and scolded him for working with a migraine(something Seth apparently suffered quite frequently from) while Ambrose himself had been miserable with a sinus headache. Another time, he'd gotten on Roman about taking it easy as he recovered from his hernia surgery, while nursing a tweaked knee

It bugged him. Ambrose seemed like a really nice guy, but it seemed that Reigns and Rollins walked all over him.

Another thing was that Ambrose seemed to spend a long time in the bathroom. It made no sense since Ambrose seemed like a pretty low maintenance guy. Jericho was beginning to have his suspicions, but didn't want to say anything without actual proof.

The clues were ambiguous, Ambrose never acted strung out, never seemed to have the munchies, or a weird smell, but the time he spent in the bathroom bothered Jericho.

It came to a head one night during a match. Jericho and Ambrose were teamed up against Big Show and Kane and Ambrose was clearly struggling. He nearly cost them the match and was only saved by Jericho making a timely tag and hitting Kane with Code Breaker.

As soon as they were backstage, Chris watched as Ambrose explained his problem as a byproduct of the sinus medicine he'd been taking, grab something out of his bag, and stumble out of the locker room. Determined to get to the bottom of this, Jericho followed him out the door.

He found Ambrose in Catering, slumped over one of the tables, a can of soda in front of him, a small black case next to the can.

As Jericho came closer and saw the items, his angry words died in his throat. It was an insulin kit. He looked at Ambrose, took in his pale, sweaty face, and shaking hands, and realized what was happening: Ambrose was diabetic and his blood sugar had tanked.

Jericho sat next to the younger man, anger replaced with concern, feeling very guilty about his earlier suspicions. Those extended bathroom visits must've been to check his blood sugar and give himself insulin.

He waited until Dean's complexion began looking normal again before he spoke, "How long have you been diabetic?"

Ambrose sighed, "A couple of months."

Jericho's frown deepened, "Steph never mentioned any health things." Then it hit him, "No one knows about this, do they?"

Ambrose shook his head, "No."

Jericho looked at the younger man in shock, "Why would you hide something like this?! This is a serious condition."

Ambrose shrugged, "It's not a big deal, I can take care of myself."

Jericho sighed, "This really isn't something you should be handling on your own. What about Reigns and Rollins?"

Dean shook his head, "No, I can't tell them."

"Why not?" Jericho challenged. "I've been listening to you all week; you mother them even when you're tired and not feeling well."

Dean shook his head, "They need me to take care of them. Seth would rather bash his own brains out than take his migraine shot when he really needs it; Joey and Jamie try, but I wouldn't trust those two with a fish. Roman has to be careful about the pain meds he takes because some of them interact badly with his allergy meds and cause him to hallucinate, and that doesn't include what the allergy stuff does to him on its own. This?" He gestured to the kit on the table, "Is nothing. I can handle this."

"You can," Jericho conceded, "you seem like a pretty capable guy. Thing is, you shouldn't have to, and judging by tonight, it looks like you're struggling a little."

Ambrose sighed, "Tonight was a…fluke. I'm used to going on at the start or middle of the show, I wasn't expecting us to be the main event and it threw me off."

Jericho narrowed his eyes, "Yeah? How many 'flukes' have you had?" At Ambrose's uncomfortable shift, he nodded. "Kind of what I thought."

Ambrose sighed, "It's just-I found out right before the amp up for WrestleMania and getting adjusted to everything is taking longer than I expected."

"All the more reason to tell someone," Jericho said, reasonably.

Ambrose shook his head, "I can't tell them."

"Why not?" Jericho asked in exasperation.

"Because I can handle it!" Ambrose said, a little louder than he'd planned. "I can handle it. I just need time to get it right."

Jericho sighed, "Dean, this is a serious condition, there's nothing wrong with admitting that you're struggling."

Ambrose dug in, "I can't tell them."

Jericho wanted to argue, but he could see that Dean was determined, so he tried a different tactic, "Why don't I help you for the rest of the tour?"

Ambrose looked skeptical, "You know how to handle diabetes?"

Jericho nodded, "Yup. One of my daughters has it, and a couple of friends from the biz had it, so I know all about dealing with it while on tour."

That seemed to relieve Ambrose somewhat, but he still hesitated, "You don't mind?"

Jericho shook his head, "Not at all. We'll talk about it when we get back to the hotel, okay?"

***A Few Days Later***

During the next week, Jericho and Ambrose worked together in and out of the ring. Every night, after the show, they'd sit down in their hotel room and go over Dean's numbers, and figuring out what caused blood sugar spikes and drops, offering tips and advice on what he'd seen work with his friends and daughter.

Try as he might, he couldn't convince Ambrose to consider talking to Reigns or Rollins about his diabetes. Everytime he brought it up, Ambrose insisted that he couldn't tell Reigns and Rollins what was wrong.

Finally, Jericho refused to back off until Dean told him why he wouldn't let his friends help him with his diabetes.

"Because they'll leave, okay?!"

Jericho tried not to show his confusion, everything he'd heard about The Shield said that they took care of each other. "What makes you say that?"

"Because that's what always happens!" Dean said, his eyes filling with tears. "I've always taken care of the people in my life, but the minute I need their help, they always leave. As long as I don't tell Seth and Roman about this, they won't leave me."

In his life and career, Jericho had heard some pretty sad things, but that had to rank up there as one of the saddest. For a long moment, he didn't know what to say, then, "Dean, if Reigns and Rollins are really your friends, they'll help you."

Dean frowned, "But what if they don't? I can't risk losing them because my fucking pancreas decided to quit working."

Jericho opened his mouth to argue some more, but Dean shook his head firmly. "I'm not going to tell them. It's not worth it. Thank for the tips." He stood up and went over to his bed and flopped down.

Jericho watched the younger man, not sure what to say or do. Ambrose needed help with this and he couldn't be there to help him every night. What he should do is go to Stephanie and Hunter and inform them of what was going on. That's what a good company man would do. However, Jericho was also a veteran of the business and a man of the locker room and ratting out someone isn't something he wanted to do.

As he thought, an idea came to him; Ambrose clearly thought the world of Reigns and Rollins. Maybe if he talked to them, he could get a clearer idea of the situation. Bottom line, he was going to make sure Ambrose got help for his condition, that's what a good company and locker room guy would do.

TBC