Disclaimer: See Chapter 6.

Note: Well, this chapter should be a little easier on your emotions. Thank you everyone for the support and for sticking around. I've been thinking about changing the update day because I can't seem to stay on schedule. So, I'm going to be updating this fic on Tuesday from now on. I'm sorry for the sudden change, but maybe I'll actually be on time from now on. Haha. See you Tuesday! Enjoy! -JJ

Chapter 7

Dean barely heard Roman shut the door behind him as they walked back inside Roman's house after breakfast. He was a mess inside, barely able to eat anything after Seth had left. He ran a hand over his face, pacing around the foyer. He didn't understand what had happened. He'd thought everything had been okay once they'd gone to bed. Seth had turned him down and he'd accepted it. Why was he avoiding him?

Was it because he hadn't apologized for kissing him suddenly? Was it because he'd been subconsciously wanting more? Was it because he was drunk?

His hand slid up into his hair, fisting and pulling as he thought about the look of complete terror on Seth's face when he'd walked up. He'd never seen someone look so scared. He let out a frustrated growl, his pacing growing faster, his thoughts only moving faster and faster. What had he done?

He'd wanted to talk to Seth about it when he woke up. He'd wanted to apologize at least for the kiss and tell him how he truly felt. He wanted Seth to know that he wanted him, not just because of how he was feeling at the time, but truly and completely. He wanted to open up and make Seth his. He didn't want to lose him too without trying.

"Dammit!" he yelled, kicking the wall.

"Hey! I don't know what the fucks going on with you and Seth, but don't go kickin' my shit because you can't figure it out!" Roman snapped, grabbing Dean's shoulder and turning him so that they were facing one another. "Calm the fuck down."

"Calm down? How the fuck am I supposed to be calm right now?" Dean screamed, yanking free from Roman's strong hand. "I don't know what the fuck I did last night to make Seth look at me like I was going fuckin' kill him. Okay? I woke up this morning and I was going to tell him how I felt and apologize for pushing him last night and he fucking wasn't there. No note, nothing. And then at breakfast, he just bolts after I walk in?" He was screaming, his head starting to pound with a headache. He was still hungover, and this was not helping.

"Dean, just chill out. It's Seth, he's probably tryin' to figure himself out," Roman explained, his voice softer, but still leaving little room for Dean to try and over take the conversation. "Kicking my walls and screaming at me isn't going to fix any of this." He paused, his phone vibrating in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked it over, his grey eyes widening.

Dean could see the evident surprise and concern in Roman's eyes. His anger was forgotten in that moment. "What's goin' on?" he asked, watching as Roman's thumbs tapped out another message. "Hey, man, what's wrong." He was growing anxious. Something felt off, it felt wrong. "Rome?"

"That was Seth," Roman started, tucking his phone back in his hip pocket. "He's on his way home." He watched the shock settle in Dean's body. "Said there was a few things he had to take care that were really important and he'd see us at the airport for next weeks shows."

Dean cursed, stomping his foot as he reached into his pocket. He pulled out his phone, noticing that there wasn't a message for him. "Fuck!" He threw the device across the foyer into the living room, the sound of picture frames crashing to the floor and glass shattering filling the room.

Roman grabbed Dean by his shoulders and slammed him up against the wall, their noses barely an inch apart. "I said stop fucking around in my house. You wanna have a fuckin' temper tantrum take that shit outside."

Dean's eyes narrowed. They flashed, giving Roman one of the most intense looks he'd ever received from the other man. "Fuck off," he growled, pushing Roman back, his lips curling into a smile.

Roman was surprised at the sudden aggression in Dean. And the look in those blue eyes wouldn't leave him. He stood there, watching as Dean's aggressive position softened and blue eyes lowered. His brow knitted together as he reached out and almost reluctantly touched Dean's shoulder, bending to look into the other man's eyes. "Hey."

"I'm sorry," Dean mumbled, looking up, his hand once again in his hair. "I'll buy you new frames man, I just…." He trailed off, looking back down at the hardwood floor. "I don't want to lose him too Rome. I can't lose him."

Roman sighed, his hand moving from Dean's shoulder to the back of his neck, bringing him in until their forehead's touched. "Give him a little space, okay? Let him figure out what he needs and then you can say your piece when we all meet up."

Dean only nodded, closing his eyes. He listened to Roman's breathing, trying to mimic his own to it. Roman's breaths were deep, even if they were quickened. After a few slower, deeper breaths, he pulled away from Roman. His mind was calming, and his anger and frustrations were slowly leaving him. "I'll clean up the glass," he offered, walking into the kitchen to grab the broom and dustpan.

He picked up his cracked phone from the floor, stuffing it back into his pocket before he picked up a couple broken frames. He looked over the pictures, thankful that the glass hadn't scratched them. One was of Roman's parents, another was of Roman with Jimmy and Jey, and the last one was a photograph of him and Roman and Seth, right when they'd come up from FCW. He smirked, Seth's hair was still bright blond and healthy, and his hair was slicked back. "God I look like I'm forty," he grumbled, shaking his head as he set them back on top of the mantle.

He started on the task of sweeping up the shards of glass, stopping every so often to look at the photo of the three of them again. His eyes narrowed on the glass, thinking that he'd probably ruined everything they'd built up by his stupid move. Mentally, he cursed himself. He knew he should've kept his distance and never made a move. Now he'd scared Seth away, probably without any chance of fixing it.

He sighed, his hands shaking as he bent down to sweep the glass into the dustpan in his other hand. He'd already lost Sami. He couldn't lose Seth too. He didn't know how, but he'd figure something out. He'd find some way to mend the tear that he'd caused between them. He had to.

His hands shook, the glass clinking together in the dustpan. He couldn't stand to lose another part of his heart. He couldn't.

Seth was growing slightly anxious as his plane grew closer to his destination. His heart was beating a little too fast. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help the overwhelming anxiety that he was starting to feel. He wasn't ready for this round of shows. He wasn't ready to put his face back on and pretend that nothing had happened. It didn't help that it felt like people could see right through him, judging him.

He took a deep breath, thinking that he would've rather driven, but that would've cut his time home into almost nothing, and he'd really needed that time at home to recover and to think things over. He'd needed the alone time. His eyes scanned the sparsely filled plane. He was thankful, although he had hoped for the plane to be near empty since he'd taken one so early in the morning.

He let out a sigh, thinking back on the last few days. How he'd left the café and took a cab back to the hotel. He'd barely been able to breathe when he'd made it back to his room door. His heart was pounding so hard in his chest that it hurt and his lungs burned like he'd inhaled fire. He couldn't remember how long he'd stood outside that door, just staring at the numbers. Fear had paralyzed him, reminding him where it had all started. His body had been shaking so violently that he'd barely gotten the key into the slot once he'd found just enough courage to try.

Once inside the room he avoided looking at the bed, breathing short, choppy breaths so he couldn't smell the air. He was sure he could still smell Dean's cologne, taste the scent of them.

He shoved his things back into his suitcase, uncaring of how they fit. He'd worked as fast as he could, stopping only when he had to. Several times he'd run into the bathroom to dry heave into the toilet since he hadn't eaten anything. By the time he was done, his throat was burning and his shaking had grown so violent that he could barely hold onto the handle.

He hadn't expected to see Dean again so soon, and he certainly hadn't anticipated for him to act like nothing had happened between them. He hadn't been able to handle it. He couldn't look the other man in the face. He didn't want to see his face. He couldn't stand the sound of Dean's voice. He couldn't hear it without feeling like he was going to vomit.

He checked out as soon as he was finished, taking a cab to the airport and booking the very first flight he could back to Iowa. He'd sent a text to Roman just before he boarded, lying that there was a few things at home he had to take care of and he'd see him at their next show. He made no mention of Dean.

The flight home had been terrible. He'd been a wreck emotionally and with the plane crowded because of his late ticket purchase, he could only force himself to grin and bare it. He didn't have much choice. He'd told himself several times not to count the minutes as they trudged by. He tried hard to ignore the physical pain he was in, and the constant screaming of his thoughts. He didn't know what he was going to do, but with each passing mile, the pressure around his heart started to slowly release. Once he'd landed back in Iowa he'd even been able to let a very faint smile touch his lips.

Once home, he felt safe. Finally, he felt himself start to relax, his breathing finally starting to even out. It was late afternoon and the first thing he'd done was made sure all his doors and windows were locked before he showered again, this time scrubbing every inch of himself. He was trying to rid himself of the memories of Dean's hands on him, wash away the feel of their skin touching, the hot breath on him. He hadn't been thinking, just scrubbing, leaving parts of him almost raw and the water ice cold before he felt even remotely close to clean enough to stop.

After drying off, Seth dressed in sweats and a baggy t-shirt, once again checking all his doors and windows before he decided that he could finally get some sleep. He was beyond exhausted, fatigued to the point that he could barely stand up. He only hoped his sleep was peaceful. After everything, he was just so tired, his body lethargic and filled with a throbbing ache. Even with the short lived sensation of being at ease in his own bed, he'd only been able to reach the goal of sleep with both lamps on either side of the bed turned on, and making sure his bedroom door was locked.

He was thankful he'd slept in nothing but inky blackness, void of dreams.

Seth slept the entire evening into the next morning, waking early and feeling slightly better. He wasn't as anxious, and his body didn't hurt nearly as much. He showered again, this time taking it easy on his skin and avoiding the sore areas from the day before. Once finished, he looked his naked body over in the long vanity mirror above his sink. He was thankful that the bruises were fading, that now they were becoming too obscure to know what had made them. He could easily lie that they'd come from training or botched bumps and no one would be the wiser.

He spent the day with his mother, enjoying her company and explaining that he was alright after he worried questioning about his neck. They'd gone out to their favorite restaurant, Seth only picking at his food. He'd brought it home, reassuring her that he just had an upset stomach from the plane's food.

That night he spent the evening home, ignoring the way his stomach growled at him. He just wasn't hungry and he didn't want to force anything down, sure that he'd just see it again. He'd been sitting on his couch for half an hour watching TV, fiddling with his phone in his lap. He'd turned it off after he'd left Tampa and hadn't thought about turning it back on. He held down the power button, watching his screen light up and his phone come to life. He wasn't surprised to see that he had a dozen or so missed calls from Roman and nearly twenty texts, most of them asking if he was okay and to answer. Once he'd seen Dean on his list of missed calls and texts, he turned his phone back off. His stomach was once again turbulent, threatening to send him back to the toilet to vomit, if he could and his hands shaking.

It all led up to him sitting there on this plane. He'd turned his phone on long enough to text Roman that everything was alright and not to worry. He'd given his flight number and arrival time so they could meet up and drive together. After, he turned his phone back off.

Seth's eyes closed, his focus going to his heartbeat. He willed it to down. The flight was almost over, no need to be anxious when he was just going to meet up with Roman. He tried to slow his breath, taking deep breaths in through his nose and letting them out his mouth just as slowly.

He was still a little sore, and he had to take some over the counter sleeping tablets to help him get to sleep, but so far he remained dreamless: a small miracle. He knew he'd have to face Dean since they worked together, but he told himself he could handle it. He had to get back to work, do the shows and forget about everything. He had to. He didn't want this crippling him or his career. He wasn't going to give up his dreams for this.

Roman waited at the gate for Seth. It was just after four in the morning, his flight landing half an hour before. He was tired and more than a little cranky, but he'd wanted to meet up with Seth. Never had the other man not text him over their breaks. He was beyond worried, knowing something just wasn't right. Between Seth and Dean's behavior before and during the break had been more than enough proof. He couldn't get over how Seth had completely ignored him, and that weird flash of hate in Dean's eyes. It had felt like he was looking at someone completely different for that split second and those heated words. It was a voice he'd never heard Dean use.

He was leaning against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest. His fingers were drumming against his bicep, his head bowed as he thought. He knew he could get what he wanted to know out of Seth if he tried hard enough, if he asked the right questions. He could read Seth easily, and he knew Seth had no problem confiding in him. He groaned, listening to the announcement of Seth's plane landing. He let out a big yawn, rubbing his eye with a large fist. He was going kill that little ninja for making him trade his cushy midmorning flight for this shit.

Roman didn't have to wait long before he saw Seth walking out of the gate and towards him. He smiled, looking over Seth's almost meek posture. His brow rose, his eyes landing right on the bruises on his neck. "What the…" he murmured, his eyes narrowing as he walked towards Seth, meeting him. "What happened?"

Seth's hand instantly rose to his throat, covering the fading bruises. "Ya know, little cousins and stuff," he lied, forcing himself to chuckle. "My brother and I had an impromptu match and he really locked in a head lock." He swallowed hard, hating that he was lying to Roman, and he was damn sure that Roman knew he was lying too. "C'mon, it's late, lets get a car and our bags and hit the road."

Roman nodded. He'd let it slide, just for now, because he was so tired. He chewed on his lower lip as he followed Seth, wondering if those bruises had been the reason Seth had been wearing the hoodie back in Florida. It would make sense. What didn't make sense would be why Dean had made them, if he had. Roman knew for a fact that Dean nearly worshiped the ground Seth walked on, he'd never do anything to physically hurt him.

Seth quickly grabbed his suitcase from the conveyer belt and started towards the car rental booths. He quickly picked up the keys for that week's rental car and led Roman out to the lot. "So, you think you can stay awake and keep me company?" he asked with a chuckle, looking over his shoulder to see Roman's wide yawn. "Aw, you look tired."

Roman shot Seth a dark look. "I originally had a nice flight at noon," he grumbled, smirking at Seth's little grumble of laughter. "But I guess I like you enough that I can deal with the drive this early." He stopped at the white SUV, watching as Seth popped the hatch. "I'll load the trunk, get the air goin'. It's hot as hell out here."

Seth was about to tell Roman it was more than okay, until Roman's hand brushed against his on the handle of his suitcase. He yanked his hand back, his heart giving a painful thump in his chest. He saw Roman's eyes widen, questioning his sudden movement. He looked away, swallowing hard. "I'll start the truck," he murmured, walking towards the driver's side and getting in.

He sat there after he started the truck and turned the AC on full blast, letting the hot air blast him in the face. He thought about the simple touch. He couldn't be jumpy like this around Roman. He trusted Roman. He'd never do anything to hurt him. They were best friends, brothers. He repeated that to himself over and over in his mind, ignoring the small thought inside him that he'd thought the same about Dean.

Roman slammed the hatch shut, slowly making his way back up to the passenger side. He didn't know what that was, why Seth had pulled away from him like he had. He couldn't let it slide. He had to get to the bottom of what was going on. He opened the door and slid in, shutting his door and pulling his seatbelt on. "Ready when you are," he said, looking over to see Seth pull his own belt on before he backed them out of their space and started them away from the airport. "I'm not gonna dance around this Seth, what's goin' on? You left us back in Florida and all I got was a text man. And you always text me. I felt like your stalker ex-boyfriend I called you so damn much. And that ain't a good look on me."

Seth couldn't help but chuckle at that. He felt the anxiousness from the earlier contact start to ease away, leaving a different kind of tightness around his heart. He really didn't want to talk about what had happened with Dean to Roman. He didn't want to even think about it. "I'm fine. I just had a lot goin' on at home," he started, taking a breath. "It wasn't nearly as serious as it sounded on the phone. Just a little fender bender."

Roman felt his jaw tighten, trying to find the right words. He knew Seth was lying. He could just feel it. "Seth," he started, letting out a held breath. "I'm worried about you okay? Things just haven't felt right since that night." He paused, letting out a slow breath, turning so his entire focus was on Seth. "And Dean." He shook his head, thinking of the fit Dean had had in his foyer. "He's so flustered with that night. He's been wanting to talk to you about it and apologize—"

"I don't want to talk to him about it!" Seth snapped, his hands tightening on the wheel until his knuckles turned white and his hands ached. His breathing increased, his heart racing. His eyes narrowed on the road, trying to focus solely on driving as the sun started to peek over the horizon. "Nothing's wrong, just leave it alone." This time it was softer, almost begging for Roman to drop the conversation.

Roman's grey eyes were wide, but he kept his mouth shut. He swallowed hard, licking his lower lip before he turned his attention towards the rising sun. Whatever had happened, he'd leave it alone for now. He'd already upset Seth. "The sunrise is always beautiful," he murmured, casting a sideways glance over at Seth's tensed body. "We don't get to see it much."

Seth took a deep breath and tried to relax. His eyes flickered over to the flat horizon, the sun making it's way upwards. A faint smile touched his lips. "Yeah, it is nice," he answered, turning his focus back on the road.

Seth tried to get himself to calm down as he prepared for his match. After his and Roman's botched conversation in the car, he'd spoke very little to the Samoan man. They'd checked into their hotel, took a quick nap before Seth went for a light work out and Roman picked Dean up from the closest airport. He'd taken a cab to the arena, taking every chance he had to avoid seeing Dean. Even if he wanted to go on like nothing had happened, he knew if he even caught a glimpse of Dean he'd probably end up having a breakdown. He couldn't do that at a show.

He looked around the nearly empty locker room, finding Cody standing at the mirrors in nothing but a pair of gym shorts, working on his face paint. He felt comfortable enough to change out of his street clothes and into his ring gear. Once he had his faux leather pants and boots on, he flung his shirt over his shoulder, looking down to make sure the bruises on his hips were covered. He was thankful they were.

He looked over at Cody, the other man filling in one side of the star on his face with black paint. He walked over, looking into the mirror at the bruises on his neck. While they were faded, they were still very visible. He couldn't go out there and perform with them, and he didn't want to ask one of the make up artists to try and cover them up. "You need some help?" he asked, a hand coming up to rub against the discolored skin. "You're gettin' real good at puttin' that stuff on."

Cody smirked, shrugging as he lined the left half of his lips in red, the right in black. "I'm getting better," he said, setting pencils down to grab his lip brush. He looked over at Seth, smiling. "It's just dressing up. Not like my sisters didn't make me do this kind of thing when I was a kid." He turned back to the mirror, dipping his lip brush in the red face paint and filled in his left side.

"How good are you with that stuff?" Seth asked quietly, his eyes lowering to the sink in front of him. He didn't want anymore people to see his neck than necessary, and he didn't want crazy rumors flying around because people liked to talk.

"I'm not terrible," Cody said, rinsing his brush and looking over at Seth, noticing that his hand hadn't left his neck. "Why? What's up?"

Seth dropped his hand, Cody's gasp and the clatter of the plastic of the brush against the sink filling the air between them. "Do you think you could cover this up?" he asked, looking over to see how large the blue eyes had grown. "I don't want to go down to the girls to get it done."

Cody swallowed, looking down at his limited supplies. "I probably could but I don't have everything it would take," he said softly, picking his brush up from the sink. "But I know I can get them from the girls down there. Let me fill in the other half of my lips and I'll get what I need, okay?" He nodded, Seth returning it with a small smile.

Seth watched as Cody quickly filled in his lips before he tossed the brush back into the sink and started out of the locker room. He owed Cody big time for this. He sat on one of the benches, taking a deep breath. He didn't wait long before Cody was once again back in the locker room, setting his haul down on the floor in front of him.

Cody picked up a few bottles, holding them up to Seth's neck, looking for the correct shade. His brows furrowed, finding the closest one and pushing it into Seth's hands. He worked to find everything else he needed. "I need you to trim your neck beard, or else this isn't going to work. Do it real quick," he instructed, never looking up from his task at hand.

Seth did as he was told, pulling a travel sized electric razor from his bag and trimmed up his neck and beard. He couldn't help but think that he did look a little better, his beard had been getting a little out of control lately since he'd done nothing to keep it tamed.

"I'm ready when you are," Cody said, looking up from his stash. "I'm not trying to rush you or anything, but I did take these without asking." He smirked at Seth's shocked expression. "Don't worry, no one saw me."

Seth walked back over, making sure that he'd brushed all the loose hair off of him. He sat down, finding it almost funny to have Cody in full Stardust face to be gently applying a tube of what looked like nude lipstick to his neck. "I own you huge for this man," he murmured, tipping his head back, giving Cody full control.

Cody looked up, blue meeting brown. He let out a small sigh, his eyes flicking back down to his work. "You wanna talk about what happened?" he asked gently, reaching down for the foundation. He moved the sponge from the bottle up to Seth's neck, blending in the cover up and foundation.

"Not really," Seth answered, moving with Cody each time his chin was touched. He winced, Cody pressing a little too hard at the still tender flesh.

"Sorry," Cody murmured, pulling his hand back, looking over where he'd successfully covered the bruised skin. "Look, it's none of my business, but if you need someone to talk to or some kind of help, don't be afraid to ask okay?"

Seth couldn't help but smile. It felt good to know someone other than Roman would stand beside him. The rest of the time Cody worked on covering his bruises they were quiet. He waited until Cody pulled away and told him he was finished before he stood and walked over to the mirror, looking over Cody's work. It looked great. He couldn't even tell he was wearing make up. "Cody, you're a miracle worker. I could almost kiss you," he said, smiling, thinking that just a little bit of make up made him feel so much better.

"Please don't," Cody laughed, gathering all his spoils so that he could sneak them back into the make up crew's area. "Just be safe, okay?"

Seth nodded. Once Cody stood and started towards the door he had a thought. "Hey, you still single?" he asked, grabbing his shirt from the bench. His eyes met Cody's, the other man's brow rising in curiosity.

"Depends on who's askin'," he answered, a smile touching his lips. There was a short, comfortable pause between them. He wasn't really sure why Seth was asking. "I'll see you around Seth, I really gotta get these put back before someone notices. Try not to sweat too much and you should be golden."

Seth nodded, looking himself over again in the mirror, Cody leaving him alone in the locker room. He pulled his shirt on and gave himself another once over, thinking he looked perfectly normal. He really owed Cody for this. He wanted to get a quick walk in, try and calm his nerves before the show started. He walked out of the locker room, feeling more confident than he had in the last few days.

"Seth!"

Seth instantly froze, his stomach doing a flip at the almost desperate sound in that voice. He could feel his body shaking, his heart pounding. He felt like he was paralyzed with fear. He didn't want to turn around and look. He just wanted to take off in the opposite direction and pretend that he hadn't heard. He knew he couldn't, now that he'd stopped. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't anywhere near ready to face Dean, and certainly not alone.

"Wait, please." It was breathless, begging. Dean felt his own heart starting to race as he slowly walked up to Seth. He reached out, a shaky hand gently touching Seth's shoulder, hoping to get Seth to turn and face him.

Seth lashed out, smacking Dean's hand away, fear evident in his big brown eyes. "Don't… you fucking… touch me," he gasped out, taking a step back. He swallowed hard, his breathing becoming erratic and shallow. "Don't touch me."

Hurt was evident in Dean's eyes. He swallowed, looking down at the ground. "Seth, I…" he paused, trying hard to think and find the right words. This was the only chance he was going to get to say what he needed. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?! Are you kidding me right now?" Seth asked, taking a step back, tears already in his eyes. He swallowed hard, breathing harder, trying to keep the tears locked away.

Dean flinched at the harsh tone, refusing to look up. "I know I was drunk and I took everything wrong. You were just trying to look out for me after… after Sami…." He trailed off, that sting of pain still too fresh. "I'm sorry for kissing you like that. I just… damn it Seth, I like you. I like you a lot!" He looked up, anger and terror still filling those doe eyes. He felt his heart drop when Seth turned away, taking a step in the opposite direction. "Wait Seth, please I'm begging you to listen!"

Seth's entire body stiffened, Dean's hand grabbing his, tight enough to get his attention but not enough to keep him from pulling away.

"Please Seth, it wasn't because of what was happening. It really was because I like you and I get that you don't feel that way. But I'm begging you, please don't walk away from me. You're one of my best friends Seth, and I need you around. I swear I'll never do anything again."

Seth stood there, his brows furrowing. He could hear the desperation in Dean's voice, feel the pure anguish as he spoke. He looked down at Dean's hand, long fingers wrapped around his palm, squeezing it slightly. He didn't feel fear with Dean's hand on him. Everything felt so different from that night. He didn't understand why. "Dean," he started, turning, but keeping their hands together. He could see the sincerity in Dean's eyes as they rose to meet his. He looked deep into the blue orbs, finding nothing but honesty. He sighed, looking down at their feet. "Do you remember everything from that night?" he asked quietly, his fingers curling around Dean's, finding comfort in the action.

Dean nodded. "I was at the bar, that waitress was hitting on me and then you came in. We talked for a little while, you made me go back to your room because the waitress was trying to pick me up. We went in, I cried like a bitch on your shoulder. I was stupid and kissed you and you pushed me away. We changed and went to bed. I woke up the next morning and you were gone," he paraphrased, swallowing hard.

Seth's brows furrowed, his lips pursing. He knew Dean was telling him the truth. Lying wasn't Dean's thing and he was completely terrible at it, but he knew that he hadn't imagined everything that had happened. He was more than confused, hating that it felt so good to have his hand in Dean's, but still feel that fear in his heart. He felt his body start to shake, his voice trembling. "Dean," he breathed, looking up. "I like you too." He saw Dean's head snap upwards, their eyes meeting. "But I can't… I need time to process this. I—"

"It's okay," Dean interrupted, giving Seth's hand a small squeeze. "As long as I have my best friend back." He smiled softly, letting his body start to relax, exhaustion starting to show on his face. "Fuck Seth, can I hug ya or somethin'?"

Seth nodded, fear filling him again, those arms wrapping around him. He felt Dean's chest bump against his, the smell of the other man's cologne filling his nostrils. He felt his stomach start to churn, remembering the smell all too well from that night, but at the same time he'd never felt so safe. He stood there in Dean's arms, shaking.

"I'm sorry Seth, I'm so fuckin' sorry," Dean murmured, holding Seth a little closer, closing his eyes. He'd barely been able to sleep, terrified that he'd lost Seth and he'd never be able to recover. He hated how tense Seth was in his arms.

Seth's arms finally rose, wrapping around Dean. Suddenly the words from that night filled his head. Several times he'd been told that it wasn't Dean holding him down. It was Moxley. Moxley had done everything to him. Someone completely different. In that moment he thought that maybe it was true, why else would he still be able to feel so comfortable in Dean's arms, feel like he was protect him from anything and everything? How was it possible?

Clinging to Dean, Seth pushed his face into his shoulder. His body slowly relaxed in Dean's embrace. He knew this man, Dean Ambrose, would never hurt him.

He was safe.

(A/N): Alright, once again I'm late… Gah! Well, I certainly hope that everyone understands what's going on and everything is still very believable. If you have questions, please ask them. Thoughts are ALWAYS loved and appreciated! As always, onwards and upwards!

JacktheSinister_JaketheJust