Disclaimer: Anything you recognize does not belong to me, it belongs to WWE. I'm not making any money on this, so don't sue me.
Notes: I am not a doctor, though I did some research on this. Also, this is different from the usual stories in the 'What Brothers Are For' series, but it's the first part of a mini arch dealing with Dean.
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Dean Ambrose was a man of many secrets, many of which weren't really secrets, just things that only a select few people knew Things like how bad his childhood really was, some of the ways he made a living while learning to wrestle that would never sound good in a sound bite, but there were still things he kept to himself. Even Roman, Seth, Sami, and Drake, whom he trusted implicitly, couldn't say they knew absolutely everything about him.
He stared at the collection of things his doctor had told him he was going to need to survive from now on. He was diabetic. He was a fucking diabetic. The idea of being dependent on anyone or anything other than himself for his survival was an anathema to him, but now he was dependent on this little collection of things. His doctor had given him a book on how to manage his diabetes, but the words might as well have been written in Chinese for all the sense it made to Dean. He knew that he'd have to watch his diet even more carefully now, something that was already tough when you spent most of your time traveling and eating in shitty restaurants.
The doctor had recommended that since he traveled so much, he ask a friend to help him and the idea stuck in his throat. He knew Roman and Seth would gladly help him, but he couldn't bring himself to consider asking them for help. He'd always prided himself on his ability to take care of himself and anyone else in his life. He'd taken care of his mom until the drugs took her away, he'd taken care of his cousin until DCS took her away, he'd taken care of all of his friends, even when they called him 'Mom'. He was the one who took care of people, not the other way around.
He settled down to read the book again, if he could figure out how to administer Seth and Roman's meds without killing either of them(at least by medication), he could figure out how to deal with this act of treason his body had committed against him.
After several hours and a lot of Googling, he was pretty sure he knew what he was doing. He took notes until he was comfortable enough to handle it. He could do this and his brothers never needed to know.
Dean loved his brothers, but he couldn't tell them about this, it would just make them worry and he didn't want them to worry. He'd been taking care of himself for as long as he can remember, he could handle this.
The End