This is the end. Please don't hate me.

2 years later

Seth Rollins walked around the nearly empty streets of his hometown, breathing in the air that somehow was nicer than the air in Chicago. He walked past an old souvenir store that had closed down long ago, and passed a two dollar shop. He walked, and he walked, until he finally came across where he had wanted to be.

Subway.

It was exactly two years, to that very day, since Seth had met Dean, since the brown had met the blue, since their worlds had collided and changed for the better.

Seth made his away round the back of the building, and the memories collided with him like an avalanche. God, how had two years passed? It seemed like nearly yesterday, when his 'friends' had ditched him, and he had stumbled across Dean in the alleyway.

He sat down with his head against the wall and sighed. Two years had passed, and not a day had gone by when he didn't think about Dean. He was now in college with Phil in Chicago, studying Art and Tech Graphics. If he was completely honest, he still had no idea what he was going to do with his life after school, but Art and Tech Graphics were the classes he wanted to do, so he did them.

He pulled out an old crumpled photo from his wallet, and shook his head as he stared down at it. It was the picture of him and Dean, the first one he'd ever taken. He smiled and tears came to his eyes. Dean had the other one. Seth wasn't sure about a lot of things when it came to Dean, but he was sure he would keep the photo.

He ran through all the memories in his head; their first meeting, Dean staying at his house, the party, their first kiss, Garage, and God, the talking. They could talk for hours, about anything and everything, and they did. Millions of conversations he had had with him, and then two years without him. It just wasn't fair. You can't make someone fall in love with you, and then leave without saying goodbye.

Seth remembered when Dean had first gone. He didn't believe it; he went to the wedding, and the realisation didn't hit in till a few days later, when he realised Dean was gone and never coming back. He continued his life in a numb sort of way, eating just enough to survive, sleeping most of the time, working at Triple Strike, and for a while he managed it. Not talking to anyone, not remembering anything.

Then, about two weeks after the wedding, the pain kicked in. Every single second, every agonising second, the pain got worse and worse, until he could no longer handle it. He flipped out, went slightly crazy, and began to self-harm. The physical pain took away the pain in his head, but nothing could help the pain in his heart.

A few weeks before the end of the summer, Phil noticed his cuts. He didn't say anything, he just hugged him for a long, long time. And Phil told his parents, and his parents got him a therapist, and slowly, slowly he began to put his life back together.

He would never be the same again. And he knew it. But he was okay with that. People told him to just forget about Dean, but they just didn't understand. He didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember forever, he wanted to be able to cherish the memories when he was older. He wanted to be able to look back, and look at the photos and remember everything. He wanted to be able to think of Dean, and say that was my first love. Not my first heartbreak. My first love.

まちぼうけ(Machibouke)~ a unique Japanese word that describes the feeling of waiting for someone you know isn't coming back.

Seth would move on with his life, he'd finish college, get a job, hopefully meet someone nice and settle down and have a family.

But he'd always wait for Dean. Even if he knew he wasn't coming back.

Dean Ambrose walked down the street he used to be so familiar with. He walked past a souvenir shop, past a two dollar shop, until he finally came to the alley round the back of Subway. He sat down against the wall, the exact same wall where Seth Rollins had been not even twenty minutes ago.

He took out a crumpled picture, the only picture he had. It was of him and Seth, the picture from the bowling alley. Sometimes he felt a slight bit bad about taking it, but he knew Seth had two copies, he had explained it all to him. And, besides, without the picture, he might start to forget Seth, and that was something he never wanted to do.

He owed Seth his life, and he knew it. He just felt bad for leaving before he had a chance to properly thank him. And apologise. And tell him he loved him.

Exactly two years ago, he had met Seth, he had talked to him, and Seth had undoubtedly saved his life. Things were so different now. He had gone to Florida, and stayed there for about a year before he finally stopped searching for Kelly. It wasn't that he was giving up, he was just moving on. He hoped Seth would do the same thing for him.

Now he had a steady job in a comic shop in the middle of Chicago, and although it didn't pay loads, it was enough for him to rent a small flat, and have enough food to survive happily. And the other two guys who worked there were pretty nice too.

He hadn't seen or heard anything about Seth since he left two years ago, but he had seen Phil. Twice. Once he just caught a glimpse of him on the other side of the road. And it was undoubtedly him. He had his dark hair gelled back, and had a good few tattoos as well, but it was still definitely him.

The second time he saw him was in the comic book shop. Phil came in one day, while Dean has been stocking comics in the back. Dean had saw him from the crack in the door, and hid out there till Phil had gone. He couldn't see him. He couldn't see any of them ever again. It just wasn't fair to them. To talk to them, to act as if everything was fine, when he knew he would undoubtedly just leave them and hurt them again.

He knew Seth was in Chicago; he had always planned on going to the same school as Phil, and if Phil was there, then Seth would be there as well. Even after a couple of years, Dean knew they would still be inseparable.

It killed him sometimes, being so close and not being able to talk to them. He knew if he tried to find Seth, he would be able to, as it's much easier to track down a person when you know where they are.

He stared at the picture for a while, his eyes tracing over Seth's two-toned hair, his brilliant smile and his beautiful eyes. God, he was so perfect. And they both looked so happy. So genuinely happy. He hadn't felt that way in a long time.

Dean would move on, if he was lucky he would become a co-owner of the shop, he'd get a better flat, he'd find someone nice, and hopefully settle down and have a nice life.

But he'd always love Seth. Even if he knew he couldn't go back.

But there would come a time when they would start to forget, when Dean would wake up and find he couldn't remember which side of Seth's hair was blonde and which was black, and when Seth would find he couldn't recall the exact shade of Dean's eyes.

And there would come a time, when two five year old boys would meet each other as they walked into their first day of school and asked each other their names.

"I'm Seth, Seth Ambrose,"

"Dean Rollins,"