Both of them were driving for a very long time that night. They had to go all the way from Miami to Pensacola. Although both cities were situated in the same state, the navigational system told them that it was going to be a nine-hour-drive.

At first, they talked for quite a while. They had some days off from work and decided to see Roman's family living in Pensacola after their four-day-trip to Miami. So they had agreed on hiring a car which Roman steered eastwards for the first couple of hours.

After about 350 miles they were heading to a drive-through to grab some burgers which weren't as tasty as their hungry tummies wanted to make them believe.
"Wanna taste my milkshake?", Roman asked but was rewarded with a shook of the auburn-haired man's head which made his messy locks fly into different directions. Roman smiled at him and rested his hand on his lover's knee. „Wanna turn on the radio? We haven't heard music since we left our hotel back in Miami." Roman's suggestion seemed to be fine, so the other male's face showed dimples and a bright smile, both accompanied by a short and cheerful „Sure!".

While he was searching for the right radio station, he looked at Roman. It was not long ago that they just had been brothers, fighters against everyone and everything that wanted to destroy either one of them. Or Seth. However, after Seth's betrayal and the breaking of their stable, he felt an even stronger connection to the tall and God-like Samoan he had known so well for years. And luckily Roman felt it too. Both men could not have been better and happier than that. They loved each other, cared for each other in a way that could not be described by words. No language would provide enough words for their feelings for each other. However, there was one word that probably could describe it: Love.

"Wanna listen to some Country stuff?"

Roman thought about it before nodding in agreement.
The two men were listening last two minutes of the song „Parachute" by Chris Stapleton. While Roman was driving, the other man closed his eyes and listened to the beginning of the next song he knew so well: "A boy named Sue" by Johnny Cash.

Roman smiled as he saw his boyfriend's lips moving to the song's lyrics in a perfect motion – like he, the tremendously gorgeous guy with the stubble and the icy blue eyes, was the original performer of that song.

Roman's boyfriend's hands both were drumming along to the rhythm as his mind started to wander around. Normally, he was very calm and unfazed when thoughts he wished he would never have had crossed his mind, but from time to time they deeply affected him. In those moments he lost his self-control and wished himself far away because the voices in his head started to mock him, continued screaming at him, letting him remember what had happened in his childhood and his teenage years, resulting in him trembling like hell.

"You are worthless...", the voice said. That day it had been his father's voice again like most of the times. In his mind the young man fought an imaginary battle with his father, his father's voice, his own thoughts and even himself.
"I am not. YOU are the one who left mum and me. Not when I was three, but thirteen. And you left nothing! NOTHING! Not even an old guitar or an empty bottle of booze!" The dialogue in the auburn-haired man's mind began to get louder, turned to be more aggressive, abusive in a way.

"Of course I left you nothing! I wanted you to fight! I wanted you to get stronger! You've been a small, plain and stupid boy when your bitchy mother gave birth to you! And that didn't change. NEVER! You hear that, SON?" The last word seemed as if the voice had spit it out on the young man who then clenched his fist, resisting the urge to crush his head against the car's window to stop his father's terrible mocking voice. The drunken sound of it. Hell, he could even smell the stench of the strong cigarettes his father used to smoke like two decades ago!

„Dean?", Roman asked curioulsy. He knew his boyfriend pretty well and as soon as the first sentence of the first verse had been sung by Dean, he recognized that something had been wrong. Terribly wrong. Dean had stopped singing but clenched on his thigh and collarbone while starting to shake himself back and forth. The first time Roman witnessed that odd behaviour of Dean, he had been overchallenged. That day, some months ago, he feared he would be unable to cope with that behaviour on the long run. His love for Dean had been stronger than this thought though.
The day he first witnessed Dean's collapse had been tough. Really tough. Roman never witnessed such an emotional as well as physical breakdown before. Neither concerning Dean, nor any other person. All the crying, the blood gushing out of Dean's knuckles as he hit the wall, the trembling. Roman, although feeling like he had been outside his own body, did the only thing that seemed right in that moment. He grabbed Dean and pulled him closer until the trembling stopped. And Dean had been thankful for it. Roman knew it meant a lot to Dean that he did not judge him although Dean never said it. Roman just felt it.

"Honey...", Roman said again and was able to take hold of his boy's hands because he stopped the car on the road's shoulder minutes ago.

"Dean, you are a worthless piece of shit! Such a useless and sick … honey." The last word made Dean open his eyes. He looked into the grey depths and as soon as he realized that it was Roman and not his father sitting next to him in the car he suddenly felt loved, felt home, felt alive, felt free.

"Oh Rome...", he bursted out crying and hugged his lover deeply. He hated his breakdowns, especially when they were on the road. If Dean had known what caused his breakdowns, he definitely would have avoided the reasons of them. Unfortunately, a simple word, a song, a smell or something else could cause them so it was like lottery.

"I am here for you. Shh...", Roman said lovingly as Dean slowly steadied his breath. The big and gently stroking Samoan hand on his back helped a lot.

"Thank you."

"Your father?" Roman knew that it had been Dean's father but he wanted to give Dean the chance to talk about it.

"Yeah. Fuck, I really hate that son of a bitch so much.", Dean said and leaned back into his seat again.

"Wanna talk?"

"Nah. Just... head home to your parents...", Dean said and could not help but feel a little jealous of Roman and his 'perfect family'. He wiped the last tear away and looked into the early morning's sky.

His mind began wandering off again but now Dean knew what to expect. He was able to control his thoughts to tell the imaginary voice in his head to fuck off and leave him and Rome alone.

And before he turned his head back to Roman, he promised himself something. He promised that he would never ever let his father win. He would be strong. We would stay strong. If he ever saw his father again, he would be stronger than him and just laugh at him. He would never ever show his father that he feared him again. Still and again.