Disclaimer: The author is in no way, shape, or form in any form of association with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy.

There's a point in life when something happens that you just have to put everything that's happened to you in the past behind you, if only for that moment. Whether it be because something came up and it's required that you put it behind you, or you just need to get through the day without thinking about it, or if an opportunity presents itself and you need to get through whatever it is causing you problems just to participate. Or maybe it's when that something from the past shows up your door holding their ribs and looking at you like they have nowhere else to go.

No matter what happened in the past, it stops mattering if you find yourself in a situation anything like this. If that something from the past is something that you cared for and loved with all of your heart, you just care about getting that broken look off their face and seeing them at their top game again. It doesn't matter if they are your worst enemy. It doesn't matter if they tried to kill you or they tried to permanently hurt you. Nothing matters besides making sure they're okay. That's the situation that Dean finds himself in when he opens the hotel room door to find Seth standing there, face bloodied and nearly doubled over, clutching his ribs like he's about to fall apart. Dean was in big brother mode before the door was even fully opened.

Dean had only been spending his night alone in his hotel room, flipping through the channels that were offered and thinking about calling Roman to see how he was doing. He had felt somewhere deep in his gut that one of his brothers was in trouble. Call it instinct. He always had a bad feeling when one of his boys were hurt. Which is why he had been thinking about making sure Roman was okay, making sure everything was healing properly. Nothing should have been going wrong so long after the surgery, right?

He had thought it was only loneliness that caused the feeling in the pit of his stomach though. He thought that maybe being alone with no one to talk to was playing tricks on his mind, on his body. He missed his Shield brother more than he cared to admit – he missed both of his Shield brothers more than he cared to admit. With the current turn of events, his focus had been temporarily driven off of Seth for the time being. You know, now that Bray fucking Wyatt has decided to set his sights on him when Dean didn't do a damn thing. At least, not that he remembered; besides their feud during his Shield days, but c'mon, that was so long ago. Bray needed to get over that if that was his problem.

So, that had been put on hold, his feud with Seth, and he hadn't seen Seth personally in what felt like forever. In reality, it had only been about two weeks, but each second felt like a year to Dean anymore when he wasn't in the ring. Time was always one of Dean's worst enemies when he didn't have something to do that had his adrenaline flowing. Dean and Seth had both been busy during the last few weeks with whatever they were doing and they just hadn't had time to keep each other company, Dean supposes. Which is why he was so shocked when he heard a knock at the door – not only shocked, but a bit suspicious. His suspicions had, of course, flew out the window when he saw the condition that Seth found himself in.

After Dean had opened the door just enough, he pulls Seth into the hotel room. The man moves with a stumble to his step, then with a limp when he finally manages to get the proper footing. Dean doesn't waste any time asking if Seth was alright, he only moves them to the bathroom, already wetting down a rag to try and clean Seth's face of the blood. He hated seeing the younger male looking so beat up, honestly. Not that he would ever tell him that. Their eyes meet and Dean is heartbroken to see Seth's brown eyes were watery and his jaw keeps tensing, like he was agitated and wanted to say something. However, neither of them were daring to say a word just yet. It was never a good idea for Dean and Seth to try to talk. Talking was words. Their words always, of course, led to conversations, and their conversations led to arguments, and it's not something that needs to happen right now. Not when Seth looks like this.

Dean is boiling on the inside, if he's completely honest, but you could have guessed that. There's a white-hot anger raging inside of him that's always there but something he manages to keep contained most of the time. Now, it's threatening to swallow him alive. He wants to know who did this to his little brother. He wants to know who would ever dare to put his hands on Seth when they were outside the ring, outside the arena. He wants to know because he would take them apart, joint by joint; bone by bone, in fact. Seth deserved so much better than to be attacked and left like this.

Seth's face is soon clear of the blood – which had come from a split lip, Dean had learned – and he was putting the rag against Seth's lip when he realized it was still bleeding some. He doesn't bother trying to hold it, though, instead he took to lifting Seth's hand and putting it over the rag, making Seth hold it there himself. Seth doesn't complain, he just goes with it. Dean, after a moment, has to pull it away again to quickly but gently pull Seth's shirt off. It causes the two-tone-haired man to give a soft noise of pain, but otherwise stay silent. He doesn't reapply the rag to his lip, instead he begins to talk.

"I didn't know who else to go to," Seth is whispering and Dean really wishes he wouldn't. In fact, Dean wishes he wouldn't so much that he just leaves the bathroom abruptly to go get some Ace Bandages from his bag that he tended to carry around with him, hoping that maybe Seth would get the signal and stop talking. As he enters the bathroom again, Dean made a show of pulling out the bandages some before he begins to wrap Seth's ribs. His ribs were bruised, but didn't seem to be broken, so this was just precaution. Dean never claimed to be an expert on what to do in these situations. Despite the few moments of silence though, Seth apparentyly didn't get the signal, and just kept talking. "I didn't know who else would help me. I barely made it here as it is." He sounds… broken in a way. It hits Dean hard in his chest just how pained he sounds. Like he regrets everything and it would serve him fucking right if he did. But those feelings had to be pushed away for now, remember?

"I'll always be there for you," Dean murmurs to him, hurting himself with just how true that statement is. He's pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head to cover up his grimace of pain, finishing up in his wrapping of Seth's ribs. "That's what I told you, wasn't it? Always going to be there to help you up." His voice cracks some, but he clears it, giving a crocked smirk and a wink as he begins to clean up the bathroom now. He needed something to do when his hands. He couldn't just stand there. A glance at Seth makes him realize he'll have to give Seth one of his shirts since his own is covered in blood. That's another thought he doesn't want to dwell on. "You want some Tylenol or something for the pain? Don't really have anything strong, but I've got something."

"I miss you," is the response that he gets instead and it makes him pause in his cleaning, rolling his shoulders back and rolling his head around once. It's to release the sudden tension. All he wants to do is throw his head through the wall, his fist into the mirror. He wants to channel the sudden anguish he feels. "We don't see each other much anymore."

"No," Dean agrees softly, "We don't." The words hang heavy in the air and Dean elects to just finish his cleaning, glancing to see Seth looking towards the ground. He almost looked like a kicked puppy; Dean hated it when he got that look on his face. "Hey. Stop that. Stop looking like someone just killed your puppy. No one killed your puppy, did they?"

Seth looks up at him with the most devastated expression. "No! God, no. No one killed my puppy. What is wrong with you?" He asks, but Dean knows a rhetorical question when he hears it. "I just… I just hate that you hate me."

The words strike Dean immediately and he's feeling the need to make sure Seth knows he doesn't hate him. Because he should, but he doesn't. He could never hate the two-toned male. He is cupping Seth's cheek before he can stop himself, pressing their foreheads together. "Shut up. Don't say that. I don't hate you."

Seth seems as shocked as Dean was to find them in this position, but his eyes shut immediately, leaning into Dean, his hand moving to Dean's shoulder. He gives a small squeeze to the muscles there, letting out a shaky breath. "I don't understand how you can't hate me. After everything I've done."

"If I hated you, I wouldn't have helped you. We wouldn't have been… doing whatever it is we're doing after you did what you did. We wouldn't be here right now. I don't hate you. Don't for a goddamn minute think I hate you," Dean mutters out, giving a soft huff as he scratches his fingernails along Seth's beard, leaning forward to peck the simplest of kisses to his swollen lips. "Now shut the fuck up, you son of a bitch, and let's get you a shirt, okay? And then you can stay and we can watch movies or some shit. I'll keep an eye on you 'til morning. Make sure you're really alright." It's the least Dean could do after all, right? Guy showed up beaten at his doorstep.

Seth had made a soft noise at the kiss, but it wasn't heard over Dean's rambling, which he is desperately glad about. He releases another shaky breath and is just nodding. He leans forward, pecking another kiss to Dean's lips. "Yeah, alright. I think I can do that." Anything important could wait until morning. His ribs hurt and all he wanted was time with Dean.

"Good," Dean murmurs and Seth finally opens his eyes, brown clashing with blue. A small smile plays at his lips.

"Good," he replies, his smile being mirrored.

Woo~ My schedule is going to be going to shit soon, most likely. I'm in an online, independent study school and can slack off a lot if I want to, and I have been. So, I'm planning on going back to a normal school next year if I can make it in, therefore, I need to strap down and haul ass. Along with that, since I turned 16 yesterday, I applied for some jobs, so, hope for me to get them! c:

Reviews would be so much appreciated!

~Ash