Wincing and with a supportive arm wrapped around his own ribs, Seth hobbled through the curtain. He staggered down the stage steps walking the length of the black cloth tunnel that escorted him away from the ring entrance and into the backstage. He was battered, bruised but would be just fine. The only thing that seems to gain any damage was his pride, embarrassed more than anything that he let the Miz humiliate him in the middle of the ring.
The gruff rasp of Deans voice caught his attention long before Seth even saw him "Will you Zebra's get lost. I'm Fine!" he smirked as the end of the tunnel grew closer. There was no way on Earth that Dean would have taken that ambush lightly. Seth knew and had no doubt he was already planning those assholes demies.
Dean sat atop a stack of production crates at the end of the tunnel, two referees and a third man hovering around him. He swatted them away aggressively like flies at a picnic, a permanent scowl creasing his bruised face. He cricked his neck and held a hand to his temple rubbing a tentative hand over his injury.
"You suffered a head injury, we need to check you over." The short balding man stated as he snapped on a pair of latex gloves. His black polo shirt indicating that he was one of the on-call medical staff.
"I told you. I'm fine. I don't need no doctor" He complained again. Seth shook his head, 'same old Ambrose.' Dean hated doctors, hospitals anything that remotely resembled the medical profession. He wouldn't even watch medical based TV shows. Seth crossed the threshold into the vast backstage area making tracks towards the small crowd, all the time watching Dean continue to whine and complain. He wrapped a hand around his own sore shoulder rolling it back and forth in its socket, it didn't seem damaged, but was pretty sore.
"How many fingers am I holding up?" the doctor asked as he waggled 4 latex covered fingers in front of Deans nose.
"87" he sneered. Rolling his eyes, the doctor raised a small pen-sized torch shining a light into Dean's eyes "get that out my face" he growled swatting it away.
"Let the man do his job Ambrose." Seth groaned as he continued to roll his shoulder leaning against the wall beside him. "The more you cooperate, the quicker he will go away" he teased. A phrase that was heard regularly back in the day when he and Roman would trick him into getting checked over after a match. Closely followed by, yep, that exact same scowl Dean flashed in Seth's direction. Like a spoilt child told they couldn't have ice cream for dinner. He returned his look of disdain back to the doctor and let him continue his examination in peace. Satisfied that Dean was indeed fine, the group of help dissipated leaving the pair alone.
"You good?" Dean asked with a grunt after a spell of silence.
Seth nodded. He had much worse beatings in his time, this was practically nothing. Sure, Seth's back is going to be bruised to shit and wasn't sure he'll be able to breathe right out his nose for a week but overall, he was ok. "You?"
"Oh yeah," he growled rolling his neck. "Friggin' peachy. Nothin' an icepack and a big bottle of bourbon won't cure."
Seth spotted a table full of water bottles opposite them. He wasn't thirsty in the slightest he just needed something to do to break up the awkward tension. Pushing himself off the wall the pain shot down his spine like an electrical current but played it off like it was nothing as he crossed the hallway swiping two crystal-clear plastic containers from the table and returning to his original stance. "It's not Bourbon. But it's the best I could do." Seth jested handing one of the bottles to Dean. He stared at the offering for a moment, hesitant at first, but soon accepted it literally ripping the top off with his teeth and spitting the cap to the floor before chugging back a hearty mouthful. The silence stretching out between them again.
Seth fixed his attention on the bottle in his hands, as he ran the same question through his head over and over again. Taking a steadying breath and forcing his tremoring leg to stop he finally asked the million-dollar question. "So… are we good?" Another agonising brief stint of silence stretched between the pair, Seth gazed up at him through his long dark lashes to see Deans stoic face, his hard to gauge reaction stared out into the empty space that surrounded them. A couple of production hands floating past with clipboards talking loudly into their headsets momentarily taking Seth's attention off the man sitting above him.
"You mean do I forgive you?" His gaze flicked across to Seth's, considering his eyes for a moment, tapping the plastic bottle with his index finger "I dunno" Dean replied quietly returning to look out over the barren concourse.
Seth let out a displeased breath "You don't know?" Hurt ran through Seth, feeling like everything they had achieved this evening had been for nothing. "But I thought… you didn't hit me-"
Dean slid off the crate like someone had just jabbed him with a sharpened stick "I'm not about to whack a defenceless guy in the back with a chair." Dean stated appalled that Seth would suggest such a thing "What kinda person you take me for? I'm not you" he scoffed. Seth dropped his gaze pursing his lips and ran a hand through his dampened. He was crushed, he was certain his little gesture would have meant something to him. 'My god, what the hell is it going to take?' "Although," Dean continued softly "I did appreciate the irony of it." Seth cast his gaze back up again and was met with a small lopsided smirk. The kind of smirk that sent warm pleasant tingles across Seth's body as he returned the gesture. He stood leaning casually against the wooden crates as he took another long sip from his bottle. Even though he was smiling, kinda, his hard glassy stare was anything but friendly. Seth could almost hear the tyrant of abuse rattling around his head aimed solely at the Miz.
He scowled hard as his attention was now fixed on something over Seth's shoulder. "The hell do you want?!" he spat. His voice was cold, malice. The kind of tone that was usually only reserved for the likes of Seth. Following his gaze, he was surprised to see Roman heading towards them. It was strange hearing him talk to Roman in such a manner and Reigns must have realised this too. His pace slowed as he approached them, his lips drew into a soft straight line, matching his equally soft stare. It was clear, he hadn't come to fight.
Roman cleared his throat "Are you both alright? Looked kinda nasty"
"Jus' great thanks." Dean replied sarcastically, downing the last of his water "In fact never better. I think I might go run a marathon now just for the fun of it." There was clearly no need for his sarcasm, but Seth knew better not to point it out, Roman too. He stood some distance from the pair, arms hanging loosely by his side watching Dean cautiously as if waiting for another verbal assault. But it never came, so Roman took a deep breath and continued. "What I said… that was really shitty of me. And what I did, that was all on me too." Romans apologetic stare cast between Seth and Dean as he ran a nervous hand up his own arm "I shouldn't have … I'm sorry"
Dean crumpled up the bottle in his hand and tossed it casually at Roman. The bottle bounced off his tactical vest and clattered to the floor. "No Thanks" Dean sniffed turning his back on them and heading down the hallway, no doubt back towards the locker rooms.
Roman let out a frustrated breath running a large hand through his own tangled damp black mane. His pleading eyes turned to Seth who stood arms folded across his chest, lips pursed. But the truth was Seth wasn't mad, not like Dean was.
"He's really pissed, huh?" the crumpled water bottle lay at Romans feet, surrounded by a puddle of the spilt liquid. "Seth." His voice soft, apologetic "I'm sorry. I was a jackass alright. I shouldn't have - I did a really shitty thing I know-"
Seth raised a hand to silence his apologetic rambling "you don't have to say anything Ro. We all do and say stupid shit in the heat of the moment" He offered him a small smile "its ok, we're cool." Roman seemed to physically relax at his statement, offering him a small smile of gratitude "besides. I'd be a pretty big hypocrite if I didn't forgive you, right?" Seth joked playfully punching the large man in the arm, but Romans smile faltered slightly, casting a glance over Seth's shoulder obviously checking to see if Dean was still in earshot.
"I'm worried about him." He said nodding in the direction of Deans disappearance. 'Of course, he is.' Always the caring big brother. Even when they were at each other's throats "I don't think he's handling this well."
"It's Dean." Seth scoffed "Does he ever handle anything well?"
"Renee. She came to me before the show. Told me everything."
"I know. She came to me too." Roman's brow knitted together as a look of puzzlement crossed his strong chiselled features. Seth continued, answering the question that was clearly on his mine "She knew that we were talking again." Of course, Seth had confided in Roman after their falling out. Retelling the story of how Dean refused to tell him about Renee and visa-versa. Of course, leaving out the minor details of his midnight visit and screaming argument. But this only seemed to confuse Roman more, his brow scrunching tighter as he opened his mouth to ask the question 'How?' but Seth cut him off, not wanting to think about it right now. "Let me try and talk some sense into him if he see's that I've forgiven you then maybe he'll forgive you too."
…::::::…::::::…::::::…::::::…::::::…
Dean cracked his knuckles as he paced back and forth in the large open space of the locker room. After yelling at a few rookie Superstars ordering them to 'get out' he was finally alone with his thoughts. Which wasn't always a good thing. He was still steaming about the Miz, that cocky arrogant smile, stupid hairstyle and his goons. Then there was Roman, where the hell has he been this past week? He was getting pretty sick and tired of hearing people apologizing today! 'First Rollins now him?!'
"You ok?" The small familiar voice broke through his tyrant of angry thoughts. 'Well speak of the devil.' Seth closed the door softly behind him as he walked the length of the room to his locker making himself comfy on the small wooden bench in front of it.
Dean rolled his eyes and huffed "Fine" rolling his neck back and forth, a satisfying crack rattling his spine. Looking like a parent about to have a serious conversation with their kid, Seth knitted his fingers together resting his elbows on his haunches giving him a stern but troubled look. "Are you sure?"
'oh, for fu-' "Yeah I'm great," he snapped waving his arms animatedly with the irritation of his general presence. "Why wouldn't I be? I just got my ass kicked by the fucking douche-torage, my best friend is an ass hole and then you…" he paused. His eyes met Seth's, his wide chocolatey brown puppy dogs melting away any irritation he was feeling. "Doesn't matter" he mumbled running a hand through his tangle of brown locks. He leaned against the wooden frame of his locker all the while aware of Seth's stare boring holes into the side of his head. "What do you want from me Rollins?" Dean asked with a gruff, his eyes fixed on the floor.
"Honestly." There was a long pause, the kind of pause that Dean was dreading, something crappy was about to hit him "I want you to talk to Roman." And there it was. Dean let out a loud bark of a laugh shaking his head 'Is he fucking for real?!' "He sorry y'know"
Dean couldn't help smiling, the strange sense of déjà vu hitting him. It was only a few months ago he stood in a similar locker room to this one having this exact conversation with Roman about Seth. So, Dean followed it up with exactly the same as he did back then. "So what… Are you on his side now? He screwed all of this up. Were supposed to be family, brothers and he just turned on me… on us! He blamed you too, why are you not pissed?"
"Because I made a stupid mistake once and he forgave me... Hell, you both did."
"I never said I forgave you," Dean said abruptly. Which was true, he had never said it… out loud.
"Fine." He knew the sad look that flickered across his face shouldn't have affected him. But he couldn't help but feel that small tug of guilt in his chest. Seth drops his gaze to the floor, shuffling his feet. "So, what are we going to do about our little Miz problem?" he continued in an obvious change of subject, but Dean rolled his eyes letting out an annoyed groan.
"There you go with this WE crap again…"
"Ambrose stop being a jerk!" Seth snapped, all traces of the nice peacemaker vanished. Dean raised an eyebrow puzzled by his outburst. But Seth's gaze held strong, defiant, as his forehead crinkled in frustration "I'm trying to-"
"Well don't alright." Dean cut him off with an equally sassy tone knowing exactly where he was going with this. "… I don't need your help. In fact, I don't want your help" he lied
"I'm not out there to help you. I got business with the Miz too y'know" Seth defended
"Yeah well, I'd rather go into business on my own. I'd rather fight them three on one than have you lurking in the shadows"
Seth rolled his eyes and slowly got to his feet, clearly still feeling the after-effects of their little attack he wrapped an arm around his stomach, a pained expression quickly flashing across his face "If you wouldn't have jumped the gun we could have taken all three of them."
Dean let out a dry pant of a laugh and pointed an accusing finger "You need to stop telling me what to do."
Seth stepped in front of him "'I'm not telling you what to do… I'm just-" he trailed off. Shielding his eyes behind two balled up fists he sighed heavily knowing full well Dean's tenacity being the cause. The mighty King Slayer had been defeated. He smirked argue with him was his favourite game to play, he always did love thwarting him. However, the next words out of his mouth caught him completely off guard. Seth's arms fell to his chest folding them tight across his strong build, his gaze following suit. "I Spoke to Renee earlier."
Dean knew all those words, knew they made a coherent sentence. But it was so out of the blue it took him longer to really register what he had said. "What?"
Seth's eyes met his again soft concerning, oblivious to Dean's confusion he continued "She came to me, before the show." 'As if that makes it any clearer.' A nervous hand rubbing up the back of his neck as his eyes darted to the floor. "she's -er- worried about you."
"About me?"
"She thinks you're going to go down this dark path of self-destruction or something." Seth still refusing to meet his eye returned to his bench. "Hell, Romans worried about it too." A huff of a laugh escaped his lips as if he couldn't believe it himself. This just irritated Dean more. He was sick of this crap, sick of everybody 'worrying about him.' He was god damn fine! Turning violently on the spot he unzipped his duffle bag and began to cram it with everything he owned, knee pads, jacket, wallet, everything. He didn't even bother to change. He was done with this, done with today, done with people. He just wanted the largest bag of chips he could find, that big king-sized bed waiting for him back at the hotel room and his woman. 'Renee.' Dean stilled mid-pack, frozen in panic. Seth's words coming back, finally registering. He had spoken to Renee. Gripping a clean t-shirt tightly, he turned slowly to look at Seth. He had returned to his bench, sitting hunched forward elbows and forearms resting on his thighs again his fingers balled together on his lap as he stared out into the locker room.
"Why did Renee go to you? Of all people?!"
Seth scoffed, a small coy half-smile twitching his lips, but his attention was firmly fixed on the empty space of the locker room "that's what I thought too, until..." his smile dropped along with his gaze again. His leg began to bounce on the spot. He took a deep breath "She knew we were talking again"
"How?" Dean snapped. He could almost hear his world crashing around his ears. "You told her?!"
"No" he replied softly "She already knew." Seth threw up his arms in defence, leaning back from Deans souring expression "Dean, she's not mad." Seth smiled slightly "Actually, she seemed quite happy about it."
"Did she." He replied flatly. Even though his exterior showed no sign of care his inside was a tangled mess, his heart pounded away with panic-induced palpitations, his stomach twisted and knotted so violently he thought he might throw up but the icing on top of the emotional cake came from the strange upheaving of relief. He didn't have to hide their friendship anymore… not that they were friends right now. Dean turned back to his belongings and continued to pack, albeit not as hastily this time, trying to sound as detached as he possibly could "What… what did she say?"
When Seth didn't reply Dean cast a glance over his shoulder at him and was surprised to find the man smiling goofily at the floor. A large dazzling smile flashing a row of pearly white teeth, the kinda smile that you only got when remembering a fond memory. "She said she's never seen you happier." There was a pleased twinkle in his eye as he talked so stately. Seth rose his head from the floor and his smile instantly dropped when he realised Deans scrutinizing stare was on him. Quickly returning his gaze to the floor he cleared his throat, still presenting that charming little smile to himself he ran his hand over his bearded chin. "I mean, she seemed cool with it… y'know" Dean grunted in compliance as he continued to pack his bag. The awkward silence stretching between them. "So…" Seth continued "Are you… ok?"
"Yeah. Just fine" he replied bluntly. But if he was honest with himself he was far from 'Just fine.' His heart raced, he felt short of breath. Renee had uncovered his biggest secret. Had known all this time and never said a word. Why? This was dangerous. What else did she know? He needed space to think, to breathe, when did it get hard to breathe in here? Were the walls closing in around him?
"Dean? You ok" Seth's voice sounded pretty distant even though he was stood right next to him. When did he get there? He could feel his hands trembling, he needed to get out. "Hey." the soft familiar voice called to him and as if like magic his mind suddenly came screaming back to reality. Every thought, voice inside his head vanished, the knots in his stomach unravelled, even his charging heart slowed to a normal tempo. A hand rested on his shoulder giving him a light squeeze. The warmth emanating from the touch was comforting, he stared at every single digit, following the tanned arm up to a confused look in Seth's eye, a look that quickly turned into concern. "You've gone really pale," he said softly his hand painfully and what seemed so slowly moving away from him. Ignoring the longing he felt for his touch to return he focused again on his bag again, he needed to leave. Screw it he was packed, he didn't care if he left anything behind.
"I gotta go." He hastily zipped up the carrier and slung it over his shoulder and left the locker room at such lightning speed he's sure he left scorch marks on the floor.
