Whoa look at that terrible summary.

It'll get better once the story moves along. Just like Darkness Falling, I promise.

Inspired by Lullaby by Tokkida (it's amazing, please go read it).

I don't want to give too much away, because ~suspense~, but I also want to say I have no idea what the hell I'm doing, so if you decided to read this, thank you for your time, and I hope you like it.

Cross-posted to AO3.

"Goddamnit, Dean, not again."

Dean's hand pauses above the keyboard, and he chances a look back at Seth, who's perched cross-legged on the edge of the bed, granting him an unamused look.

"What?" Dean asks innocently.

"Don't 'what' me, Ambrose. You know what I mean. If I have to listen to your sorry-ass excuse for singing one more time, I'm going to shoot myself. Again."

"I thought we agreed not to joke about that shit," Dean grumbles, turning to face Seth completely and leaning against the adjacent wall.

"We didn't agree not to joke about it. We just agreed that it was something you didn't think was funny," Seth argues.

"You know why I don't think it's funny," Dean says, anger of his own starting to boil within him. "Because being stuck here is what I got for listening to your dumb ass suggesting the dumbest fuckin' idea I'd ever heard of. Look what we got for it, Seth. Look what we got. I should've fuckin' broken up with you before it got to that point."

Seth visibly falters then, face crumpling, and Dean struggles not to say anything more, because seeing that he's hit a nerve softens him almost immediately, and he wants to tell Seth I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, you know I'm an asshole, but Seth's heard it a hundred times.

Maybe more.

So he just turns back to the keyboard and starts tapping out notes, humming softly in his throat as he goes, until the notes start to sound wrong and the sound of his voice dies in his throat.

When he turns back to the bed, Seth is gone.

"Sure you don't need help, uce?"

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks, man," Roman says, shoving the box with the last of the few belongings he's going to take with him into the trunk.

"I still don't know why the hell you wanna get outta Pensacola," Jey speaks up, leaning against the side of Roman's SUV. "Don't you like it here?"

"You know I love it here," Roman says. He means it; a part of him doesn't want to leave. His family is here; the best beach in the entire world is here (well, that's his opinion, but isn't his opinion all that matters?), and it's almost always warm and sunny here. Pensacola is his favorite place in the world, but he's thirty-one and he's been here virtually his entire life.

It's time for him to go. Get out. See the world.

Well, not exactly.

In his "quest to find new things and discover himself," as Naomi had so irritatingly called it, he'd chosen to move to a small city in Indiana, of which he still struggled to pronounce its name.

Terre Haute.

He'd already decided to go to Indiana, having never been there before, and with its biggest, southernmost city being over five hundred miles away, he figured it'd be a good way to get out and experience new things.

He'd chosen Terre Haute specifically for one reason: someone had put an entire fucking mansion on the market for only $50,000.

He may have been "Pensacola's most eligible bachelor," as Jimmy had dubbed him, with no need for more than a small apartment, but he figured that if he liked Indiana enough, maybe he'd need it in the future. He'd have plenty of room for his cousins and other family if they came to visit, and he'd certainly have enough room to start a family, if he so desired.

The mansion was gorgeous, and from the limited information on the listing, Roman had no idea why they'd put it up for so cheap. The only information provided in the listing was that it was being sold by the owners, the McMahons, whose ancestors had apparently founded Indiana State University (he'd learned this from late-night Google research).

He didn't have $50,000 on him, but after finding that all they required to purchase it at the moment was a down payment of $5,000, he jumped on it. He had at least $10,000 saved up from various odd jobs after college, and he had hopes he'd be able to find a permanent job in Indiana.

Today, the last day of May, is the day he's leaving Pensacola to drive up to Indiana and move into his new house. Jimmy and Jey had come over to his apartment to help him pack up the last of his things and fit them all into his car, and now, he's fairly certain he's got everything he needs.

It's a little bittersweet; he's excited at the prospect of new things, but he knows he's going to miss his family, and when Jimmy and Jey hug him to say goodbye, he can feel the burn of tears pricking his eyes.

Don't fucking cry, Roman, he tries to tell himself. It's not like you're never gonna see them again.

It doesn't seem to be helping.

"Good luck, uce," Jimmy says when he steps back, out of their hug. "Better not get murdered up there. $50k for a mansion is sketchy as hell, you know."

Roman laughs and tries to discreetly wipe a tear from his eye. "I'll be fine, man. Gotta come visit me, yeah?"

"For sure."

Dean wanders throughout the house to look for Seth, knowing he couldn't have gone too far (they can't get farther than the edge of the street, anyway; they've tried, on multiple occasions). He finds Seth in the basement, knees drawn up to his chest and face pressed into them, and his body is shaking.

Sometimes, Dean has to remind himself they're still just kids, and time goes on without them, even though it shouldn't.

"Seth, I didn't mean it. I was just pissed, okay?" Dean says, voice soft. Seth ignores him, and Dean sighs and settles down next to him, wrapping an arm around his side, letting him cry.

Dean's still there when Seth finally looks up, face blotchy and wet with tears, eyes red-rimmed and watering with more tears ready to spill.

"I didn't know it was going to happen like this," Seth sobs out, and his voice cracks, and Dean pulls Seth in closer, kisses the top of his head and tries in vain to comfort him.

"If I'd known… I wouldn't have done it. I wouldn't have wanted you to do it, either. I'm so sorry," Seth continues, and on 'sorry' he bursts into tears once more, and although Dean's heart aches, all he can do is hold Seth close and let him cry, even though they've had this argument so many times before.

They've gone in opposite directions since that one regretted night twenty years ago; Dean's grown a harder shell, grown colder to the world outside their world, hateful towards anyone other than Seth, but Seth's grown softer, and Dean knows he wants out, but there's no way out.

This was supposed to be their way out.

But it didn't quite work like that.