❝For what it's worth it was worth all the while . . .❞
Dead air. It is the worst mistake you can make on color commentary but after watching my husband get speared by Bobby Lashley just feet in front of me there were no words. Only fear as I watch him gasp for air on the ground dragging himself trying to get to his feet at all cost.
My heart rattles around in its cage begging for someone to stop this. Roman, Seth—anyone. Lashley yanks Dean upright only to send a clubbing fist against his head. Dean flies backward, against the cleared off commentary table and it's like someone sticks their hand through my chest and clenches my heart freezing it in its place.
Even the most unversed fan knew what was coming.
Bobby scoops him up in the blink of an eye, "No, no, no, no!" Cole says beside me as Bobby throws Dean's broken body through the table. A shriek escapes my lips before I can pull it back. Every muscle every movement tightens, every vertebra in my spinal column is a block of ice. I can't look away.
There are 10,000 feelings of disbelief hole-punched in my heart. Lio and Lashley are hovering over Dean's motionless body with a smug smirk on their faces. I keep waiting for Dean to get back up to continue fighting to push through all this pain he feels in every muscle and bone in his body like he would have just a year ago but when the two assholes start to back away toward the entrance ramp I realize it won't happen.
"Nikki don't--" Graves and Cole's voice falls on deaf ears as I rush up the steps to his side. Not caring how unprofessional it might be. I throw my headset behind me as I drop to my knees.
"Dean?" The prospect of him in pain is like a cold hand clutching my esophagus. I can't catch my breath. I feel like I'm struggling to swallow a toothpick.
His lashes flutter open, his eyes are the perfect shade of cobalt, blue like a blossoming bruise, clear and deep and decided before his eyelids drop back down. "Medic . . . where the hell is the medic?" I shout looking over to the ramp momentarily, Dean stirs under my hand and out of pure instinct I clamp down on his waist.
I feel frantic and unsure of myself my head turning every way as people finally start to help. I know I'm in the way but I can't bring myself to leave his side. "You're gonna fall," I gasp out, "stay still, everything's gonna be okay."
"Let's get him up." The medic says, the ref's nod. I finally take a step back, giving them just enough room to help but making sure Dean's insight.
They pull his arms over their shoulders and help him to his feet. He's helping a little bit, taking clumsy steps stumbling, almost dragging the other men down with him.
I know I'm supposed to stay. It's my job to be impartial, to keep my emotions—my personal life—out of it, still, I'm struggling. My eyes follow the men watching them disappear, my heart feels heavy in my chest. I can't look away.
"Go," I shift my gaze to the voice, Michael and Corey are standing beside me now. "You should be with him. Go."
I nod, my feet pushing off the ground as I sprint to catch up.
+ + +
"You sure you're okay?" He gives me that half-smile, the one I know all too well, he only does it when I'm annoying him. I don't blame him, I've asked the question at least ten times since we left the trainers room. "I'm allowed to worry." I huff crossing my arms.
His smile grows, "I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to," He coughs stifling a laugh. "I'm gonna miss this."
His eyebrow quirks upward, "I don't think we've done this before."
"No," I chuckle, "working together. Being able to see you every day, I think I took that for granted."
His features soften. "Nikki--"
"I know, I know," my eyes roll, "I'm not trying to talk you out of it. You've made it very clear that nothing can do that. Doesn't mean I can't miss you." I sing with a smile, my free hand reaching up to poke him in his cheek.
His lips soften into a smile that cracks apart my spine. "I'll miss you too, I mean it's not like we live together or anything . . ." He teases.
My lips smack as I swat his arm, "You know what I mean."
His mouth opens but is cut off when a stage handler calls out his name, the guy is frantically running toward us out of breath. "You're needed upfront."
I couldn't fight the confusion that etches its way on my face. "Isn't the show over?" Dean asks sounding just as uncertain.
The man nods, "Please come with me, we have to hurry!" The urgency in his voice pushes Dean forward, "You too." His eyes touch mine and I quickly follow.
+ + +
"What are we doing here . . ." My words fall to the floor when I notice Seth and Roman on the monitor.
"So, please Brooklyn—and if you would, I know you're not big for entrances, my man, Dean Ambrose. I love you, will you please come out here and let me tell you to your face."
Silence sits in the air, I look to Dean wondering where his head is. This is what he said he didn't want, some big send-off, an emotional goodbye. Did being off-air change that? My hand slides into his like second nature, my fingers intertwining with his. "I'm one-hundred percent behind you, no matter what you wanna do."
He takes in a sharp breath, his eyes staring into mine with such intensity. "Hit my music."
Seth and Roman both grin when we turn the corner, almost looking relieved that he actually came out. To my surprise, Dean struts out with a confident smirk not looking the least bit nervous.
My heart clenches in my chest knowing this was the last time I'd hear his entrance music, the last time I'd see the Shield be whole. It wasn't like I was losing him forever, I'd still see him when I got home but my heart hurt for Roman and Seth because deep down I know they'll drift apart eventually. That's what happens in this business, everyone is so busy it becomes impossible to maintain relationships outside of WWE.
He releases my hand when we enter the ring, hugging Seth. He was taking this the hardest, he fought when everyone else had given up on trying to change his mind. He fought until tonight when he finally accepted what we all knew.
Dean looks more and more uncomfortable as Seth goes on, praising him, thanking him. To some, it might look like he didn't care as he leans over and whispers something to Roman. I know better though, any compliment, no matter who it came from, made Dean uncomfortable. It was almost like he didn't think he deserves praise. Like he didn't deserve love.
Please don't go
Please don't go
The mic lowers from Seth's lips as the crowd chants, a somber expression on his face. He takes in a sharp breath and tears burn the back of my throat. "I tried that one, guys, it didn't work. I promise." Dean sticks his hand out asking for the mic, "I just wanted to tell you I love you, I wanted to tell you thank you and if you wanna say anything to these fine people of Brooklyn the stage is yours, my friend."
He cracks a grin so wide, so amused, so refreshingly sincere it's like a clap of thunder through my body. He pulls me closer to him, his arm heavily falling over my shoulders. Dean flips the mic in his free hand, skillfully catching it. His glistening blue eyes taking in the crowd, searching for the right words, I'm sure thank you didn't feel like enough.
"I love this building, I know most of you probably aren't from New York City, you know you came here from all over the world. But here's the thing you gotta remember, a building is just a building. It's just brick and mortar, it's just wood and nails. What makes the building is the fans and there are no fans in the world that are like you.
The crowd roars with excitement, "So without you, there isn't any us. Screw this building, the important thing is the people who fill it and that's you, so we wanna thank you once again!"
Thank you, Dean
Thank you, Dean
The chant fills the arena, he pauses, squeezing me a little tighter. "Boys, I've got one last favor to ask," Dean says.
"Anything," Seth and Roman assure him.
His gaze shifts down to me, "Promise me you'll watch after my girl when I'm gone." A smile tugs at the side of my mouth. "You're the best thing that came out of joining the WWE. I thank whatever God there is every day for you."
My heart is flapping wings against my throat, "I love you." the words burn as they leave my throat, tears trying to break free.
Dean releases me from his hold, hugging Seth, "You know we will, man."
Roman nods in agreement before Dean hugs him too. Dean heads for the ropes and his music hits, "Dean, Dean, hold up," He turns back around to Roman's voice, having a hard time hearing him over the music but when he sticks his fist out in front of him both the boys knew what he wanted.
They walk over and do the same, his music cuts out and is replaced by The Shields. A tear escapes as I watch them, it's the perfect way to send him off. He looks over his shoulder and with his hand, he waves me over. I don't hesitate to come to his side.
"Let's keep an Ambrose in the Shield." Before I can ask what he means, he pulls his fist back and lifts my arm to replace his. "Perfect."
How did a Dean one take so long for me to write?! I'm so ashamed lol
I sped through the Shield says goodbye video I know sorry, it seems so easy to just copy everything down word by word. Turns out I have a shit memory so every five seconds I'm pausing and rewinding to make sure I wrote the right thing. Not a big deal for a few words but its a 9-minute video. Never in my life has 9 minutes ever felt so long.
(unedited)
Btw can we talk about how Dean looks drunk in this video? lol idk maybe thats just me.