Summary: The continuation of Jumpy, Paranoia, Tattle, Stolen and Questioning.

July 24, 2016

To say that Seth was relieved to get the call that a neighbor had found Kevin at the dog park down the street from his house was an understatement. He was grateful, elated, ecstatic and overwhelmed. He was wandering through the park, playing with other dogs, all alone. There was no scruffy, slouchy, crazy eyed dirty blonde in sight. When he got to the park, his dog was unharmed, content and happily waged his tail when he scooped the little guy up into his arms.

Now, as he led Kevin back up to the porch of his house, he had to admit that maybe he overreacted. This thing with Ambrose had him seeing ghosts were there were none. Kevin had probably slipped past him when he opened the door and walked out on the porch to see if the satellite truck was round. It wouldn't be the first time the little yorkie had done that. His obedience training hadn't curbed that habit and he tended to wander away when given the chance.

At least he hadn't gotten himself hit by a car this time.

He opened the door, setting Kevin down with another gentle admonishment. God, if what he just went through was any indication then he was never going to have children. They'd either drive him out of his mind or to an early grave. Once it was closed and locked, and he made sure that it was closed tight so the little rascal couldn't escape again, he froze.

Oh shit.

His eyes widened at the sight of scuffed up Nikes propped up on his coffee table. They trailed up over well worn jeans and a black beater tank top. With a harsh swallow, brown eyes landed on frozen blue ones. He blinked, trying to clear his vision because what he was seeing couldn't be right but it didn't. Dean lounged in his recliner with a beer in one hand and stared back, his lips slowly curving into a disturbing smirk that sent chills down his spine.

"Hey Seth!" That gravelly voice held an odd note in it as Kevin jumped up into his lap. "I was in the neighborhood and figured I'd drop by. Heard you've been having some trouble."

He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find his voice. Instead, he stood there and gaped at his former teammate as he idly petted Kevin.

That smirk morphed into a sinister looking sneer. "Looks like someone's got it out for you."

"How'd you get in?" While that wasn't what Seth had intended to say, it was what he had been thinking. He always locked his doors. It was something that he was always fanatical about. Especially lately since he'd been receiving death threats. He didn't want to leave them any opening to make them a reality.

Those blue eyes flashed, "A magician never reveals his secrets."

"Get out." He wanted the words to be fierce and sharp but they weren't. Falling out of his mouth helpless and weak. More like he was asking than telling. There was no way in hell that would move his former business partner in the least. "Now."

That sneer turned slightly patronizing. "Trying to kick out your brother?"

"We're not brothers."

"Oops, guess I forgot for a second." He chuckled but there was no humor in it, only a searing bitterness that grated on his raw nerves.

"You're not welcome here Ambrose." He forced himself to stand tall. "I know that you're behind all of this."

"I am?"

"You know you are so drop the innocent act."

Several unidentifiable emotions pass over the older man's face but they were gone too quickly and replaced with that same blank but chilling gaze. "Can you prove it?"

"What?"

"Got proof?" Dean prodded, his eyes gleaming wickedly. "Your word doesn't hold much weight sellout. If you wanna run to Daddy and tattle since Roman doesn't believe it, you'll need to have something to back it up. Because there were no incident reports filed about these supposed event's even Daddy will wonder about the validity of them."

"You being here, in my house, is proof."

"But I'm not here Seth."

Ok, that wasn't what he was expecting to hear. "Yes, you are."

"Nope, I'm not here at all."

"What the hell are you talking about?" He shook his head in exasperation. "You're sitting right there Ambrose!"

"I'm in Vegas right now and there's a bunch of people that will attest to that" That twisted grin curled his lips again and he eerily looked like the Joker. "Must be your mind playing tricks on you."

He really couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You're crazy."

"Nah, think you're the one who lost his mind. Can't tell scripted from reality anymore." His voice was cajoling, softened with a sickly sweet note. "It's getting to you. All the pressure, the expectations. You're cracking traitor."

There was no way in hell that was true. He was not having an argument with a hallucination. The other man was there. A real living and breathing person, taking a damn sip of beer as he mindless scratched behind Kevin's ears. Looking far too confident and comfortable for the architect's liking.

Seth needed to get him to admit what he was doing. "I don't crack Ambrose. I'm rock solid, mind sharp and clear. That's why they picked me and not you."

"Riiiight."

"You don't think so?"

Dean's eyes rolled, "Oh please, they chose you because they knew that you're weak, easily manipulated and need validation for everything you do. That you can't function without someone patting you on the head and telling you what a good boy you are."

That made him bristle. This whole thing had crossed the line. It was one thing to attack him on the show but it was entirely another to do it off-screen. He charged forward, tired of the games. It was time to show Ambrose that he wasn't the sniveling little coward he pretended to be for the camera's.

Unfortunately for him, Dean was a seasoned fighter. He'd grown up in a life where he had to know how to protect himself. But that didn't matter. The thoughts of finally ending this driving him forward. While he might not win the fight, he'd make sure that he got in as many shots as he could before going down.

Seth didn't know how it happened. He never saw the other man move but before he could even swing a fist, his face was pressed against the wall and his arms were twisted up behind his back. It hurt like hell but he still tried to break free. His foot lashed out but didn't connect with anything solid. The pretzel-like hold on his arms tightened and he winced in pain.

"Nice try sellout." The voice was a savage hiss. "But this time, you tipped your hand."

"You saw it coming the first time!" He shot back, sick and tired of hearing how he stabbed the bastard in the back. "After I hit Roman, you turned to face me. Saw the chair and knew what I'd do. You could have decided not to come at me, to just accept the fact that the Shield was over but you made the move. I reacted!"

That was the last thing he remembered because everything suddenly went black.