Lost then Found:A Dean Ambrose FanFicition

Chapter Fifty-Five: Script Changes

Chapter Fifty-Five: Script Changes

As Dean Ambrose woke up that morning, he knew that something was wrong. His first thought was that it involved Brittany, yet it was not;for she was in a deep sleep. He had woken her up, but that was a big mistake. Even in her naked and groggy splendor, she yelled at Dean, tried to hug him, but instantly fell asleep once more. Dean had watched over her for several minutes after that, never finding anything wrong. He had even tried to sleep himself, but his conscience wouldn't let him. So he lied in the bed with an arm draped across Brittany's lower-back, wide awake and curious until the sun rose.

Even while he was in the shower, Dean could not shake the nagging feeling that something was going to happen to him that day. It frustrated him so badly that he accidentally cut himself while shaving. He even went through the text messages on his phone, to make sure that no one had alluded to anything at all. His search was futile. Brittany did not want to buy into this thought, so she instead tried to help Dean forget about it, but even she failed. And it was awkward enough trying to eat breakfast. Dean did not understand why this thought had overcome him, but one thing was for sure: it had nothing to do with his personal life for once.

Sitting inside of the rental car, Dean ransacked his mind for other things to think about. He wanted the WWE to be the farthest from consideration. Working out was something that he did not want in the cards, nor tonight's weekly episode of Monday Night Raw. Not even the radio, which was blasting rainy-day music, could distract him. He tried to think about the sex that he and Brittany had last night, but that just made him feel aroused. It was mind-blowing, yes, but not distracting enough. And as he looked out to the street, which was already teeming with early morning activity, Dean Ambrose sighed as he once more slid down in his seat and shoved his sunglasses on in a final attempt to make his mind go blank.

"I'm back," Brittany announced as she opened the driver's door.

Dean gave a grunt as a reply.

What a bad decision that was, for Brittany cranked the music up as loud as it would go, which caused Dean's head to notoriously throb.

"Fuck! Ah. Why did you do that?" He asked, taking it as a sign to sit up.

"You've been like this all morning. Look, I know that you won't believe me, but nothing's going to happen, Jon. If it were, you would have had a sign by now."

"Isn't this a sign enough," he asked as he took the water bottle that Brittany was offering.

"Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. Look, I understand that you're trying to forget about your suspicions, I do. But it's bothering you very badly. I mean, for god sake! You accidentally cut yourself while shaving this morning! Whatever this is, it's got to stop."

Dean sighed and turned the keys in the ignition slot for her. "Look, you can vouch for me on this: it's not easy to forget about the thing that's bothering you the most. Can we not fight about this? That's the last thing that I want to do this morning."

She sighed and turned the music back down. "Alright."

After a few moments of driving in silence, Dean grabbed Brittany's hand and held it, caressing the palm with his thumb. "How are you feeling, paleface?"

Paleface was the official nickname that Dean had given Brittany. He had always admired her unnatural paleness, even when they had been friends and he teased her because of it. She had never really given him a nickname, apart from the fact that he was called Ambrose by her whenever she was feeling particularly mischievous. So a few nights ago when they had dinner while on the flight to Iowa, Dean had begun to call her paleface because her skin had a sort of translucent-quality to it. Brittany had never complained about it, though.