Chapter 1

It was 1 am early Wednesday morning after Dean had quickly made it home from the SmackDown taping and sadly, he couldn't sleep. It was pitch black with only the high beams showing him his path with a cool breeze whistling through the windows and out all of the others. He drove through the curves and turns up the red, dusty Mojave Mountains trying to find some piece or serenity. Trying to find a way out of his own mind and thoughts. He really can't take it anymore. His mind and heart had always reverted back to a single human being.. His closest friend and brother, Roman. It's been like this since they first met back in FCW but he was able to control it up until recently. Things can only be bottled up for so long until they boil to the rim and burst, and that's exactly what was currently happening to him. He kept the radio on a steady low hum as background noise to try to help ease his aching mind. As he climbed higher and higher up the mountain, the more he thought, the more intense his driving became. He's had a death grip on the steering wheel clutching and ripping the leather on it for some time now, finally realizing that his hands tend to try and destroy whatever they can whenever Rome pops into his mind. His fingers curl up, he sweats, swears, just becomes a down right hot mess and it's getting to the point where he just can't take it anymore.

"I gotta tell him fuckin' somethin'... Nah nah nah. The fucker's got a family for Christ sake.." Ambrose muttered to himself, almost as a reminder.

There have been times where he's come so close, only to bite his tongue, sometimes hard enough to draw blood to stop himself. He could never tell Roman, not only would it make Roman's life extremely complicated since he would be juggling not only his wife's love, but also Dean's, but Ambrose would lose a lifelong friend in an instant. That thought alone scares the living shit out of him. Roman completely disconnecting himself from Dean... Here come the dark thoughts. Roman growing to hate him, looking down upon him as if he was a peasant. His mind will not give it up. Roman would hate Dean.

"Fuckin' hell! Why can't I fucking win!" He screamed while banging the flat surfaces of his palms against the wheel repeatedly.

He finally came to a halt almost at the summit of the mountain where a sign reads, "Caution, Dead End" upon it. He started to think if everything would just be easier if he would just ride right off of it. Without thinking and feeling the numbing pain of emptiness, he's all to familiar with, he starts to drive, faster and faster. Closing in on the sign and the drop off of the mountain. He can feel it all slipping away now, the pain, the fear, everything. But then he thinks of Roman and his beautiful face and memorable soul and how he's been by his side through everything. He got only a few feet away from it all when he slammed down on the breaks as hard as he can and swerved to the side. The truck finally halted and Dean quickly put it in park and ripped the key out. He couldn't believe what he had almost done. Gripping the keys as hard as he could in his right hand, he then brought his fists up to his eyes, shoving them against his eye sockets very roughly. He can't hold back the tears anymore. He can't hold back his feelings anymore. He can nearly hold onto his own life right now.

"Fuck.. What's the fuckin' point. What's the point to any of this." He says to himself between stifles and chokes, just above a whisper.

Then his right pocket begins to vibrate. He wipes his tear-stained face on the leather clad forearm while grabbing his phone and answering it. He clears his throat and tries to sound normal.

"Yeah." He says.

He waits for a response wondering who it was since he didn't even check who was calling when it rang.

"Dean, are you okay? What the hell man you leave without saying a word to me at RAW and now SmackDown? And why do you sound like that?... Dean?!" The deep voice said through the phone worryingly. Dean's heart dropped to his stomach but also fluttered at the same time. It was Roman.

"Uh, yeah sorry... um I'm good. And I've been extremely busy and really just wanted to get home this week." He responded, hoping it sounded persuasive enough. Continuing to dry his tears, he listens to what sounds like a sigh coming from Roman followed by a gulp.

"Look. It's not just been this week. You've been like this for a while now. We've been brothers for such a long time, I figured you'd know that you can tell me anything by now-" he was almost finished his sentence when Dean cut him off with a whimpered yet, volatile tone.

That's where you're wrong! I wish I could, god I wish I fuckin' could but I can't let myself get in the way of your life. I can't be that fucking selfish... Just fucking forget it. I'll see you around on Monday Rome." With that being said, Dean ended the call and chucked his phone all the way in the back of the truck. He brought his hands up to his head trying to gain some type of clarity back in order to drive home. No no no. He can't drive home. He tossed the keys to the floor of the passengers' seat and stepped out of the car, leaving the door open. He can't think straight. And when he can't think straight he starts punching things, anything he can get his fists to collide with. Screaming a long line of curse words, he punched his right hand into the side of a boulder as hard as he could. Dean's knuckles almost instantly start to bleed. He can't help but feel some type of satisfaction from it, like it almost ripped his feelings for Roman out and threw them away. He slid down the large rock and sat down breathing heavy, looking up upon the stars.

"I wonder if I'll even make it to Monday.."