Seth Rollins flinched when the dressing room door slammed shut. He inwardly sighed, knowing he was in for a lecture.

"Where the hell was your head at?"

Seth grabbed a towel as he wearily sat on a bench. He wiped his face then looked up at his brother.

Dean Ambrose stood, hands on hips, glaring at Seth with both anger and disapproval.

"Well?" Dean demanded.

"I screwed up," Seth admitted.

Dean waited for several seconds, then threw up his hands. "That's it? You screwed up?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" Seth snapped in return. "Yeah, I screwed up! I went into that match with McIntire with my head messed up! I was sure Lesnar would jump me so I didn't concentrate on that Scottish psychopathic sheep-lover!"

"And you wound up getting the crap beat outta ya!" Dean angrily kicked a wall.

"I know," Seth grunted.

Dean quickly crossed the room and knelt in front of Seth. He put his hands on Seth's shoulders and met the younger man's eyes.

"You can't do that with Lesnar," Dean carefully spoke. "You're the one who has to Slay the Beast and bring that title back to where it belongs…back to where it will mean something again. You need to get your head on straight."

"I know," Seth whispered. "I know but…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I just got all these thoughts running around in my head and I know they mean something and I'm missing something important but I can't get a grip on them." He sighed and opened his eyes. "I know that doesn't make sense."

"Yeah, it does," Dean softly replied. "You're being run ragged."

Seth shrugged and forced a grin. "Road to Wrestlemania, man."

Dean studied him for a few moments, then sat on the floor in front of him. "What's your schedule next week?"

Seth blinked a few times. "Why?" he finally asked.

Dean shrugged. "Mine's kinda light. You got any free time?"

Confused, Seth reached into his bag and retrieved his cell phone. He pulled up his calendar and blinked. "Well, now that you mention it, I don't have anything from next RAW until Wednesday. I have to be in San Francisco on Wednesday afternoon."

"What about Roman's schedule?"

Seth looked up at the innocent question. "What makes you think I have Roman's schedule?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Seth, you kept your schedule, Roman's schedule and my schedule in that phone of yours. So, yes, I do think you've still got Roman's schedule. And mine, too, for that matter."

'Not for long,' Seth sadly thought. But he shrugged and pulled up another calendar. "Looks like Roman's got RAW and then nothing until the house show on Friday."

"Good." Dean nodded. "We can catch the red-eye to Vegas right after RAW. We'll spend Tuesday talking then get you to the airport Wednesday morning. Roman and I'll catch up to you on Friday."

"Talking, huh?" Seth half-grinned.

"Yeah, getting your head back on straight," Dean agreed. He glanced away then took a deep breath. "And I need to tell you and Roman what was going on with me." He remembered the nightmare from the previous December and looked back at Seth. "Straight up, Seth. I'll tell you and Roman everything."

"I…I put that all behind me, Dean. I swear," Seth quietly spoke.

Dean nodded. "Or maybe part of you is waiting for me to come at you again."

Seth shook his head but looked away from his brother.

"Hey, I'm not mad. I understand," Dean murmured. "And even if you and Roman don't need to hear it, I need to say it."

"Okay," Seth finally nodded. He looked back at Dean. "As soon as we get to the hotel, I'll make the flight reservations."

Dean nodded and stood. "Grab a quick shower before you stiffen up even more. I'll text Roman and let him know."

Seth tossed his phone onto the bench and grabbed his bag.

Dean watched him disappear into the shower room then sat on the bench. He pulled out his phone to text Roman.

'You & Seth are flying with me to Vegas after RAW next Monday. Seth's making the reservations when we get to the hotel so message him about that. Seth's flying out Wednesday morning & we'll catch up with him on Friday at the house show. We need to get his head on straight for the match with Lesnar.'

Dean pressed send as he heard the shower being turned on. He took a deep breath and sent another text.

'And I need to explain to both of you.'

Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the wall. He wasn't going to be looking forward to that conversation and wasn't even sure how he could explain everything. But he knew it had to be done. He opened his eyes when his phone buzzed with a message.

'He does. And you do. I'll call him in an hour.'

Dean idly wondered what his two brothers would talk about besides plane reservations. Then he shrugged. This was on him. And he'd have to find the words to make them understand.