THE SHIELD ⇾ one shots & preferences

| Dean Ambrose | One Shot | Asleep

Dean hadn't slept with you in almost a week.

And by 'slept with', you didn't mean sex. You had been having plenty of that. You literally meant that Dean hadn't slept a full night in almost a week. He'd take an hour nap here or there in the afternoons, or you'd find him curled up next to you when you woke up in the morning but knew that he had only been there a few hours.

Dean always slept less when he was trying to figure out a way to prove people wrong or beat someone. Even moreso when the match or whatever meant something big to him.

You had tried so many times to get him to drop it for the night and come to bed with you, but he always answered the same.

"Just a bit longer, darling. Then I'll be in."

And, just like every other time, the 'just a bit longer' turned into four or five hours in which you eventually decided you weren't going to wait up for him. When Dean would finally come to bed in the early hours of the morning, he would typically find you sprawled out on your back with a book resting open on your chest. He would smile, take the book gently from your hands and place it on your nightstand, before curling up next to you and kissing your cheek.

You calculated that, on average, Dean was getting about four hours of sleep per night. He claimed that this wasn't an issue, but you could see the toll it was starting to take on him. He had dark circles under his eyes, his entire posture was a lot less alert and upright and he got short with you on occasion, which was out of character.

One particular night you had found Dean once again sat at the table with pen and paper scattered everywhere and three half-empty cups of coffee next to him. He was leaning his elbows on the table, head in his hands. You could tell that he was working through a bit of brain block and staying awake longer was not going to help.

"Baby, please come to bed." You pleaded, standing behind him and massaging his shoulders. "You're exhausted and it's just making you more frustrated. This stuff will still be here in the morning, and it'll probably make more sense when you're rested up."

"Can't." He mumbled. "If I leave it now, I'll forget all of it. I just need to figure out how to get him on the mat..."

"You won't forget." You insisted. "Dean, you haven't slept a full night in almost a week. The human body can't survive on that; you're going to crash soon and it won't be pretty."

"Honey, please." He sighed. "Just give me a bit longer -"

"No, Dean!" You replied, voice raising slightly and your tone sharper.

Dean turned to look at you, somewhat surprised.

"I'm not just going to sit here and watch you burn yourself out." You continued. "You can reassure me all you want that you're fine, but I know that's bullshit. I can't force you to sleep, okay? But I'm telling you that I'm scared. A night of not sleeping here or there is fine, but you've made a habit of it. And I know you; you're not going to stop until you physically can't go anymore, and I don't want that to happen. So please? Please, Dean?"
You were a bit overtired yourself and that caused your voice to start shaking slightly as you spoke.

By the time you finished, your bottom lip was wobbling and your eyes were clouding up with tears. Dean's brows furrowed as he stood up and pulled you into a hug.

"Okay, okay, don't cry. I don't want you to be upset, please?"

You sniffled into his shoulder and nodded.
"Give me one more night of this," he said, "and then I promise I will start sleeping normally. This is the last move set I need to finish for a while. I just need one more night." He leaned back and lifted your chin so he could see your face. "Okay?"