Here comes the aftermath of Dean's day in court then, time our boy had a bit of a win! Brother feelings run hard in this one, so strap yourselves down for some big bromance vibes!
Skovko, Dean's father is so smug he thought he could win no matter what happened, plus I don't think all the booze much helped! Dean is definitely the smart one of his family, no contest there!
Stingerette1975, Okay, so maybe I'm not that evil, but I'm going to have my moments before this story is out! Note to self: never attack someone in court when you're trying to claim non-violence!
Wolfgirl2013, Glad you're enjoying this story too, we're getting close to the end now, but there's still plenty of action and family feels to go!
HannonsPen, Ouch, sorry to hear about your horrible infection, so many people are ill at the moment! Glad you enjoyed the last few chapters, there's still some drama left to come though!
xXBalorBabeXx, Well, I figured it was high time that I threw a bit more action in there, besides which it was only a matter of time before Dean's dad totally screwed things up! Go Roman!
June3law, I wish as well that Dean didn't ever have to deal with him again. I mean, I guess I could have written it like that too, but in the end I went a different way! Poor Dean has more drama yet!
Rebel8954, Or maybe Papa Reigns beating Dean's dad with a filofax while Mama Reigns wields to spoon?! Karma is close, but not quite arrived yet...you know what they say about it being a bitch?!
Sodapop25, Happy endings are kind of my speciality, but that doesn't mean we don't still have to get through a bit more trauma first to make it more worthwhile!
Raze Olympus, Well, I might be able to promise one of those things, but I'm not going to reveal which one it is because I happen to be mercilessly cruel like that! Dean's dad is done yet though!
SkittlezLvr79, Haha, that's a very vivid ending you have imagine for Dean's old man, but totally no less than he deserves. As for him popping up again? Yeah, okay, so you might be right there!
Mandy, Awww, I'm sorry to hear you've had a bad week, me too, it has literally been the worst for meltdowns! Glad I could help in a very little way with this chapter, sending big hugs!
Minnie1015, I'm so close to giving up with the alerts things, it been nearly two weeks now and no fixes...gah! But glad you liked the chapter anyway, I literally based the entire thing on that!
LHisawesome4ever, I'm glad The Beast is happy. Does it have Paul Heyman for representation by the way? Hopefully the final chapters will make it even happier, because there is a lot more angst!
Tfan23, Hi there, glad you've been enjoying it and yeah, I guess I could have ended on a happy note there, but nope, I need to toy with your emotions a bit more first! Sorry teen Dean!
Ohana1337, Welcome to the party! Glad you're enjoying it and I probably do need slapping with a wooden spoon at times, so I would totally accept that! Thanks for your thoughts and prayers.
Back to it...
Twenty Six.
As a result of the attempted beatdown in the corridor, Judge Stratus sides with Dean and although his father tries to prevent it and spin some wild sob story the gavel bangs down.
That's it.
Just like that, Dean is free.
An emancipated, fully legal teenage boy-man.
As soon as it happens people sort of erupt around him, with Titus letting out an uncharacteristic cry of suck it and Roman's parents launching up holding hands. Roman – thankfully – is slightly more measured and doesn't do a thing until Dean's father storms out, mumbling and yelling about things not being over but leaving which is the important bit.
Dean's father leaves.
"Hey, uce?" Roman's hand comes down on his shoulder and he swings his eyes up, looking dazed, "You alright?"
Dean nods back, humming out a note which isn't too convincing but which sums up his emotions since he doesn't know how to feel. Happy sure, but the sensations go beyond that because it isn't as if things can get back to normal now, everything is new which means there is no real normal.
Normal is something Dean can now carve for himself.
Problem is he doesn't know what he wants from that but the one thing he does know is that he doesn't want change. At least not on the Reigns household arrangements because – damn it – he's happy there and he wants to stay around. Not that they are really obliged to keep him on now, not in legal sense anyhow. On a personal level though he really hopes they'll stick it out with him because he –
He loves them and he can't let them go now.
Which is why for the next three days after the trial's done, Dean exists in a highly anxious state, smiling through the compliments and celebratory dinners and appearing to be happy when internally he wants to burst. The idea of being a fully-fledged adult had been massively appealing when faced with his dad but the reality of it is actually damn scary and he isn't sure he's ready to be completely on his own.
It comes to a head on the third night of freedom when the bulk of the salutations and celebrating has died down. Dean is up in Roman's room playing Sega games but plods towards the kitchen at Mama Reigns' shout of dinner time. When he gets there though, the meal is only half-cooked and instead the three Reigns' – the ones that matter most to him, Roman and his parents – are sitting silently staring back, each of them wearing a look Dean can't place yet but which makes his stomach turn over in dread.
Shit.
"Sit down son," Papa Reigns smiles at him, but it's almost as though he's readying Dean for a fall, "We need to have a little discussion."
Dean drops into a chair with a thud, his knees beginning to shake in apprehension which flows up into his fingers until they restlessly drum and tap. Roman is staring back at him, his expression seeming easy which confuses Dean more because what the hell is going on?
"It's about your living arrangements going forward – ,"
Well, that it's then, they're kicking him out and Dean can't help the fierce panic that rises up in him or the way he surges in almost across the table top, talking at a million miles an hour and saying anything he can think of that might change their minds,
"No, please don't, I – I can do better, I can do more, like, chores an' stuff around the house. An' I know I wake you all up with my nightmares but I really think they'll be better now it's done. I just – I just don't want you guys to ditch me. I'll do anythin' you want – ,"
Roman's mother launches up, her face an absolute patchwork of emotions as the skirts around the table and sweeps him up in her arms, tucking him in against her breastbone so fiercely that it pokes into Dean's head and physically hurts. It doesn't matter though, Dean clings right on back to her, fisting up her blouse so tightly in his fingers that his knuckles turn white and threaten to pop off.
"Honey no," Mama Reigns whispers back at him, teary but adamant, "We're not giving you up."
"You – you're not?"
Roman snorts in reply to him, shaking his head from side to side,
"You idiot, of course we're not."
Even Papa Reigns – who's usually not so quick with heartfelt – manages to adopt a sort of benevolent looking grin.
"Son, you don't have to worry about anything, our association with you doesn't end with the case. What did I tell you before, huh? You're family. Legal or otherwise. You're a part of our team."
Clearing his throat Dean shuffles himself back a bit, although Roman's mother stays put, stroking her fingers through his hair. It's pretty damn typical that now he feels stupid and his cheeks flush with embarrassment about having totally freaked out.
God damn moron.
"We're not kickin' you out uce," Roman offers evenly, breaking through the self-loathing train, "What I was gonna suggest is movin' in to my place, it's downtown, closer to work, a real boys pad."
Roman winks and somewhere above him, Mama Reigns hums unhappily,
"No girls and no parties either, I don't care what the judge says, he's still just a child."
Roman grins,
"Whatever you say mom."
"Roman Reigns you give me your word."
But before he can answer and put her out of her misery, Dean speaks up with a baffled sounding frown, still working on the suggestion thrown out some time earlier which is making his brain spin.
"Move in with you?"
"Yeah," Roman shrugs, "You know, as roommates."
Dean blinks back,
"I – I want to pay rent."
It's not the sentence he's actually thinking or – frankly – the one they're expecting to hear, but to his credit Roman merely nods back at him and spreads his hands wide,
"If that's what you want."
The rest of the evening – much like the three days that preceded it – are spent in semi-dazed sort of bubble world, where real life seems to be moving all around him and he's stuck there in slow motion, watching it all whizz about.
He is going to be living with Roman.
Paying rent like an adult.
He's going to have his own life.
Better than that, he will still have the Reigns' and be part of their family and whatever else that entails. Dreamily he even thinks about Christmas and trees and cookies and warmth and all that. It's weird how much he wants a movie-style holiday like the ones he's seen on television as a kid and now it seems like a genuine reality because they're not getting rid of him.
You're a part of our team.
They decide that it's best to move sooner rather than later so that he and Roman can establish their own groove, which means that Dean's last night in the Reigns house – in the bedroom he sees as his now – is just two nights after that. There's a big meal to celebrate or possibly commiserate and Mama Reigns makes a gigantic new home cake which Dean claims is his since it's not a new home for Roman, just the one he has with a shiny new roommate.
Packing up Dean's stuff isn't exactly a lengthy process and there's no need for removal trucks or back and forth trips. In the end it all fits on the backseat of Roman's pickup and is mostly comprised of stuff Mama Reigns has bought, like bed linen and towels and a whole bunch more clothing which he still feels kind of weird about – her spending all their money – but cannot seem to find a way to turn down. His own things – the items that he took from his father's house – take up a solitary and very small cardboard box and so by late afternoon they are packed up and ready and saying goodbye on the Reigns' front porch.
Despite the fact they will be a twenty minute drive away – fifteen if gunning it or if they hit a lot of greens – Roman's mother still farewells them like they'll be a couple of states across which Dean doesn't actually mind one little bit. It's been years since he has been cosseted or mothered and although he loved his own mom, she had never been a huggy type. Mama Reigns on the other hand is like a god damn fairytale and so he buries his head against her and sniffles just a little bit. Roman's father by contrast, simply put a hand out and shakes it so hard that Dean is worried it might fall off. But then – just as he's starting to pull it away again – he slaps his other broad hand over the top, waiting until the teen's blue eyes drift up to him and then smiling,
"Son? You take care of yourself."
He nods,
"I will, an' thanks for – uh – everythin'."
For saving my life.
Roman's father nods but then doesn't let his hand go until Roman claps,
"Alright, let's hit the road."
"Remember, family dinner on Wednesday, you'll be here?"
"Sure mom," Roman grins, "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
But he ushers Dean into the car with an eye roll that says uh parents and makes the kid grin back. Not that Dean really agrees necessarily – compared to his folks, the Reigns' are a dream – but he's happy to be involved in the familial exasperation because it means he's a part of it.
A part of our team.
Roman lives in a nice downtown apartment, which has underground parking and reaches up into the sky. It's clad with big windows made of some reflective glass stuff which blocks out prying eyes and makes the building look black. It's pretty damn cool and Dean gapes up at it as Roman punches in the number and drives the pickup down the ramps.
Between them they manage to get Dean's stuff up in one hit, with Dean ferrying boxes while Roman holds back the elevator doors. They're probably causing like a heap of dissension from other people waiting for the thing to arrive and they leave – like – no space for anyone else to get in with them but it saves them another journey and so Dean doesn't mind.
"You ready then uce?" Roman asks him grinning as he unlocks and prepares to fling open the door,
"Uh huh."
Dean is so much more than ready that he lightly starts bouncing,
"Here she is, home sweet home."
The apartment itself, is open-plan, large and airy with wall to wall picture windows and a breath-taking city view. It's the sort of apartment that business moguls have in movies and Dean cannot believe it is where he'll be living now. It's too nice for him. Too clean and unspoilt to have a scruffy street kid knocking around. Because that's what he is and probably always will be. He's got nice clothes now but he'll always be sub-par. Luckily however, Roman interprets his silence with impeccable understanding and ruffles his hair,
"Don't worry uce, I don't much belong here either, we're both livin' off someone else's money for the most part, just until we make our fortunes though, 'cos once the gym takes off, you an' me will be payin' for them,"
Dean snorts wryly,
"Yeah, that's gonna happen."
"Never know," Roman shrugs, "Now come on, check out your new room."
The room is – unsurprisingly – modern and tidy if not slightly smaller than the one in Roman's parents' house. Whereas that however, was soft and pretty neutral this room is more manly in reds and dark greys. Part of Dean's belongings include the football comforter, which Roman's mom has thoughtfully gifted across, having seen Dean wrapped protectively in the covers in the throes of a nightmare too many times to take it back. Therefore it's the very first thing that Dean lays out again before lining up his books on the in-built shelves beside the bed. There are sliding door closets which easily take his clothing and leave a lot of room to spare and a handy in-built desk with a funky grey swivel chair for when – or if – he needs to bring home any work.
Roman leaves him to it and by the time that Dean has unloaded things and put them in their places, the skies have gone dark. Roman is sitting on the couch in the living room, the lights of the city twinkling merrily behind. There's a whole bunch of noise coming from the television and Roman is wrestling with a playstation controller at some street racing game.
"Here uce, take the wheel."
In response Dean plops down happily beside him and sinks into the couch with his tongue poking out. Roman is racing with some almighty sports car but he's gone way off piste and is crashing through a park,
"Man, I'm glad you don't drive like this in real life."
"How do you know I don't?"
"Um, because you drive me all the time?"
"Yeah, day to day," Roman fires back at him, leaning back with a beer and a contented sounding sigh, "But you oughta see me when I'm illegal drag racing, whole 'nother story."
Dean rolls his eyes,
"Uh huh."
At some point Roman must have ordered a pizza because there's a call on the intercom and Roman buzzes the guy up. It's a loaded cheese crust with extra pepperoni and barbecue sauce and the damn thing looks insane. It's probably enough to feed twenty people but the pair of them manage to wade through it all the same. There's soda for Dean and leftover cake for afters which means once they have eaten Dean feels pretty sick. But happy as well – like – stupidly happy and settled as if the place is just where he's meant to be. At one point he even drifts off on the sofa, but is woken by Roman nudging him in the ribs,
"Huh? Wha – ,"
"Got one more thing for you, I think you might need 'em if you're gonna be living here."
Roman grins and then holds a set of keys up, with three jangling items hanging off a metal D.
"What – ," Dean blinks and rubs the sleep from his vision, feeling lightly dazed, "What are they for?"
"Apartment," Roman answers, wiggling the first one, "Mailbox and this one here is for the gym."
"The gym? I get – I get my own key there?"
Roman snorts,
"Well you're practically co-manager at this point, or maybe the damn business development officer. So yeah, that means you get your own key."
For a second Dean merely sits open-mouthed and stares at them because the whole seems surreal and strangely kind of big. In the end Roman simply grabs his hand and drops them into it and Dean's palm seals around them, holding the keys safe.
"Thank you uce," Dean murmurs back huskily, not sure he can put the feeling into words. Fortunately however – since it's Roman – he doesn't have to because the big man just snorts at him,
"Don't mention it roomie."
Isn't it nice that Dean's all happy and loved? So let's keep it like this forever more…
No? Okay, check back in two days for the return of the drama!