They sat there for awhile by the side of the road, sipping water and not saying anything. The had moved out of the beam from the headlights, so the only light illuminating where they sat was the blue light from the end of Dean's e-cig as he drew on it. Roman found his eyes drawn to the blue light and was glad that the night was so dark, Dean probably couldn't tell Roman was constantly glancing in his direction.

"So," Dean finally said, breaking the silence. "What are you going to do?"

"Get to the hotel and hopefully get some sleep," Roman said. "I'm just waiting for you."

"Uh-uh," Dean shook his head. "You know what I mean. About Jessica."

"I don't know," Roman admitted. "I mean, she's got a point. She is stuck being a single parent for all intents and purposes. And she doesn't even have the benefit of finding a babysitter and going off to find someone for the night. Not that she wants to do that, I don't think she does, hookups are totally not her thing, but face it; she's involved, but most nights she sleeps alone."

"You do too," Dean reminded him.

"Not always. Sometimes you or Seth stay in my room. Sometimes all three of us shared a room," Roman said, deliberately trying to keep things light, even though the subject was dark. "I mean, we're not having an affair, so I'm not getting any, but at least I've often fallen asleep to the sounds of your snoring and Seth's farting."

"Doesn't count," Dean said. "And we haven't really shared rooms very often since they started paying us more like the superstars we are and you've stopped being so cheap."

Roman grinned, even thought he knew Dean couldn't see it. "Had to save for Leah's college education. She might want to go to Harvard some day." When the three of them had first started working together, the WWE had given them a one year contract, that while better than the ones in developmental, had been far from as lucrative as the one they had signed recently. It also didn't cover as much of the travel expenses as their current contract did and the travel expenses went up significantly going from developmental to the big time. Both Roman and Jessica had agreed that saving for the future, both for themselves and for Leah was a top priority. They both knew Roman's career could end in an instant in a way that would make his working any job for quite awhile, impossible. And, they were equally as determined to make sure Leah would be able to go to any college she wanted. Roman had done everything in his power to save money, staying at cheaper hotels, doing his best to get bargains on flights and rental cars, picking up peanut butter and bread to eat in the hotel instead of eating out. When Dean and Seth realized what was going on, they took it as an "All for one and one for all" thing and helped. They insisted on paying for their share of everything and when they could get away with it, they covered Roman too. They were willing to stay three in a room at the Red Roof Inn, to cram their long legs into cheap, subcompact rental cars. If he and Dean went out to the bars, Dean would buy the first round. "Don't worry, I got this." By the time the second round was needed, 99 times out of a hundred, Dean would have met the wrestling fans who were more than willing to buy them all the drinks they wanted. If no wrestling fans could be found, he would say he was going to the bathroom and stop at the bar and buy the next round. Roman would forever be grateful for that. At a time when he was afraid that the college fund would stop growing and possibly even be wiped out, it had grown quite nicely. No, Leah wasn't at the "If I was accepted, I could go to Princeton this afternoon, " level, but a highly rated state university was a viable option. The money needed for Ivy league wasn't a pipe dream anymore, if things continued, by the time she was old enough to need it, they'd have it for her.

"Yeah, some day when Leah is a famous brain surgeon, she can give me my first lobotomy," Dean joked. "I'll probably need one by then." Before Roman could respond, he continued, "Do you think it's really that bad? I mean, do you think when you go home, you're going to find the locks changed and your stuff on the lawn?"

"No, she's not going to do that, "Roman said, unable to resist a chuckle at the thought. It wasn't Jessica's style. "She'd never keep me from Leah, she knows how close we are. Even if-" he paused and swallowed hard, "-even if the worst happened, she wouldn't kick me out. Even if she decided she hated me, she would make sure we did everything the best way we could to make it as easy as possible for Leah."

"Do you think she hates you?"

"No." Roman could answer that easily and honestly. "She doesn't hate me, if she hates anything, it's the situation we're in. The fact that I have a job that expects me to work 300 days a year, if not more. That the more I make it in this business, the less she sees me. This isn't like a desk job Dean, and you know it. There's none of this, 'sorry guys, we have to work hard the next few months to get this project out, then you can have some time off.' Every day is the rush project."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. Personally, he liked that the job kept him busy, but then again, he didn't have a girlfriend and a daughter who was growing up quickly. "So, I guess the question is, can you give it up? Throw away everything in order to be a stay home husband and daddy?"

That was the heart of the matter. He had tried to do the nine to five thing and it had almost killed him. It wasn't that he couldn't do it, he was a smart guy and he had done well at the job. It was just that every time he walked into the office, he felt like a part of his soul was dying and if he'd stuck it out for ten years, he wouldn't even have a soul anymore. He loved his daughter, he loved Jessica, but he wasn't cut out to be a nine to fiver. When he'd been working that normal job, a coworker, who was pretty good at drawing, drew a picture of him at his desk, with a huge ball and chain around his ankle. Roman had laughed when his friend handed it to him and made light of it, but as soon as he could, he'd hidden the picture because it was too accurate of how he felt. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "I hate sitting at a desk."

"You don't have to sit at a desk to work a regular job," Dean pointed out. "You could learn construction or something. Start a landscaping business. With your looks, you'd get a lot of customers."

"Uh, yeah," Roman said, laughing. "Why, yes, I was a member of one of the hottest factions in the WWE, but really, Ma'am I just want to trim your hedges. What's that? No! I mean literally trim your hedges... the ones out here... in your yard."

Dean laughed with him. "Okay, that's kinda dumb, but maybe you could find something more suited. I mean, you could wrestle in the independents on weekends, if you had to, just for the fix."

"Yeah, I could," Roman said, his voice trailing off.

"You just don't want to," Dean finished up.

"Not really," he admitted. "I like this. Yeah, okay, the schedule sucks, the waking up in pain every single morning sucks, the road can suck, so on and so forth, but... I still love it. It's like when they play that intro music and I'm heading down those stairs, part of me that was dormant wakes up and I feel completely, 100% alive."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Dean agreed. I don't even mind the audience getting a little grabby. I mean, I don't like it when they try to touch my junk, slap my ass, or stroke my hair, but the pats on the shoulder and the hand slaps? That's pretty cool."

"Yeah, it is," Roman agreed and then sighed. "Why can't I clone myself so I can be in two places at once?"

"Because the world couldn't handle two Roman Reigns," Dean said quickly. "That much magnificence would completely upset the balance of things. Fire would reign from the sky, pun intended, dogs would sleep with cats, nights would be light and days would be dark, and Seth Motherfucking Rollins would wake up to discover his arm had grown twelve inches longer and five inches thicker."

They both laughed together at this, I will miss this so much, Roman thought. As we drift into our own thing, I will miss this. These times when Dean just will not shut up with the jokes. He got to his feet slowly. "C'mon," he said, offering Dean his hand, "We can't sit out here all night. I need at least a few hours of sleep."

Dean took his hand and allowed Roman to help him to his feet. "Yeah, you're right." The two of them made their way to the car and got in. As Dean moved the car back to the road, he leaned over and with his right hand, patted Roman on his left shoulder. "Don't worry. You and Jessie will work it out, I just have that feeling. And if it helps, tell her I won't call you on your off time anymore."

"Dean, don't say that," Roman protested. "If you need me, we're friends. I promised that a long time ago."

"I know you did, and I appreciate it more than you'll ever know," Dean said. "But I've been thinking, if I'm going to look at The Shield as my family, then. well, face it, I was the kid. Seth was the responsible dad, you were the older, adult brother. I was the kid. And maybe it's time for the kid to grow up." As Roman opened his mouth to speak, Dean held up his hand to stop him. "Now, I'm not saying if real trouble hits I won't call you, like if I get hit by a bus and I'm in the hospital, or if I get too drunk and end up proposing to someone because they bought me a cheeseburger and I need someone to help me escape. But some of the other stuff? Like calling you just because my dumb ass blood family wants to try to get me to fund their meth lab or whatever they do with money when they get it, I'll handle that myself."

"You've been handling it yourself," Roman reminded him. "Unless you've been lying, you haven't given any of your family any money in over a year."

"Yeah, but every time they called, after I said no, I called you or Seth the second I hung up," Dean reminded him. "Every single time. And I did it because my first reaction was to call them back and tell them I'd changed my mind. Part of me still thinks I can buy their love, stupid as that sounds. But I can't keep doing that. I have to learn to tell them no, and stick by it. I have to stop expecting you or Seth or anyone else to convince me I'm right, I have to know I'm right. And not just that either, but the other stuff. The times I've called you because I've been bored or lonely and just wanted to connect. I'm an adult, I shouldn't depend on you so much."

"We're friends," Roman reminded him. "Friends are supposed to be there for each other."

"Yeah, and friends should also understand when it's time to let their friend be with his fiance and daughter." Dean kept his eyes on the road, not looking at Roman.

"Look, we aren't going to be working together as much," Roman reminded him, as if he really needed to be reminding. "I don't want to lose your friendship. Seriously, I don't."

"You won't," Dean said, his voice strong. "Seth Motherfucking Rollins can walk away, but we can't. Seth is the lousy parent, we're the sibs that have to keep it together. We'll stay friends."

"I'm not much of a friend if you can't call me unless it's a life and death emergency," Roman pointed out. "I do like talking to you, even when you're being a whiny little bitch."

Dean grinned, his face taking on an eerie greenish glow from the gauge lights in the dashboard. "Okay, tell you what, if I want to talk to you, I'll text you first, but-"

"You text me first now, unless it's an emergency," Roman interrupted to say.

"Let me finish!" Dean protested, "I'll text you, but you have to promise that unless I say it's a life and death emergency, you won't respond unless you're not busy. If you're somewhere with Jessica, or having a tea party with your daughter, or anything that's a family moment, you'll ignore it. I won't be hurt. If you can, just text me back, 'busy.' If that's too long, just text back 'BZ.' But even if you don't text back, I'll give it a few minutes and figure it out. What do you think of that?"

Roman smiled, shaking his head. He wasn't sure if this would be any help or not to what was going on with him and Jessica, but he also knew Dean meant well and it certainly wouldn't hurt. "I think my baby brother is growing up," he said, in a mock sappy voice with a very exaggerated, very fake, and over the top redneck accent. "If the Grippe hadn't taken Mama awl dem years ago, she'd be so proud of yew!" He reached out and tousled Dean's hair.

Dean ducked and pushed Roman's hand away. "I'm not that grown up," he joked back. "You'll always be my older brother."

"Yeah, by a whole seven months!" Roman pointed out.

"Yeah, but they were a long seven months," Dean grinned. "And by my estimate, I was two months premature and our mom got knocked up by the doctor, ten seconds after he delivered you. We've got a few miles 'till we get to the hotel, entertain me, big brother, so I don't fall asleep."

"Entertain you?" Roman snorted, "And how should I do that?"

"Tell me a story," Dean suggested.

"A story?" He stared at Dean, not sure if he was kidding or not. Roman had told lots of stories to Leah, her favorite being the ongoing saga of a Princess named (as it just so happened) Leah, who went on all sorts of adventures, kicking butt and saving the day, but he was pretty sure that wasn't what Dean had in mind. "Okay," he said, slowly. "Once upon a time, there was this jerk named Seth who had really small, skinny arms."

They were both still laughing by the time they reached the hotel. It was the hysterical laughter of two people who were tired and emotionally strung out, but there were a lot worse things than being punch drunk hysterical and the they both knew it.

Author's Note: One more part to go. Thank you again to the people who've taken the time to review this for me. For those of you who are guests to the site? Your input is just as appreciated, I just can't respond to your reviews because they only allow you to do that with registered site members. But your reviews are just as appreciated. Thank you.