The fallout of Roman's big secret continues in this one and it is not going to be very pretty either…
Hayley1001, Good news then because I have even more angst for you in this chapter. Roman is going to feel very guilty after this one but hey, that's what we like right?! Poor Roman *sighs* I'm being very mean but I have to be because that's my job here right?!
Skovko, Definitely, not only does he feel like he's lost his brother but also the guy that makes him feel safe from prison attacks will actually be like a walking target if people find out who he really is. Not that Dean is exactly immune to trouble himself…
Daisysakura, Hmmm, maybe I can't promise that anyone makes it out alive…or maybe I can…or maybe I can't or…yeah, you get the idea! Dean is a pretty bright little cookie and especially because he feels stupid about being duped he worked out the rest in record time!
KyanaM, Awww no, not the tears! I can probably promise that it will get better…but only if it can maybe get a little bit worse first because I do love my angst. But yeah, poor old Roman, he's only trying to do the best he can and he's in jail. Rough month huh?!
Cheryl24, *Ducks thrown object* Haha missed me! Um, so yeah about the whole Bray staying away thing, I'm afraid I can't really promise that because…well, I mean, it's Bray so he's going to do whatever he wants to do. I mean, it's not like he listens to me right?!
Minnie1015, Well, you know what they say about fixing something, that right it has to be torn down? Well, I'm not sure that Dean is kind of broken enough yet and I don't think Roman feels quite guilty enough, so I might just test that a little bit with this chapter 'kay?
Mandy, Awww, thank you so much *hugs back* and you have no idea how much it means to me that you're always right there reviewing and building me up. Can't be a good writer without good readers! And good news, because the raw emotions continues in this one too!
Wolfgirl2013, Thank you! Gonna be more drama in this one too, because if you thought the boys were going to kiss and make it straight up again in this chapter…then nope!
Guest, Glad you like it, but this chapter is going to be even more punchy than the last one…possibly literally too, but if you want to know what that means, you'll have to read on!
Stingerette1975, Yep, poor Dean has always been lied to and abandoned by people, even when it wasn't their fault (looking at you Sami…which should probably mean I'm looking at me because I wrote it) but he's taking the Roman thing hard. And as for getting worse? Um…
Raze Olympus, *Puts on tin hat* Whoa there now, still got a ways to go before the ending, so a happy one isn't totally out of bounds. But first we gotta get into the nitty gritty, bare bones of the fallout of his lies so strap yourself in for the next couple of chapters!
SkittlezLvr79, Hopefully that swig of wine was the only one you had? It's just you might wanna save some for this chapter too. Just as an aside. But yeah, both boys went into their brotherhood with the best of intentions, but a hurt Dean is a non-thinking Dean and the boy is pissed!
Here goes then…
Something's Wrong
Roman wakes suddenly to a bright burst of sunshine and the horrible sensation that he has slept for too long and which sends him up onto his feet in a stumble as he untangles the bedsheets and tries to fight down his alarm.
"Uce?"
He throws a quick glance at the twin bed and finds the thing empty and messily made which means that Dean has likely gone to pull together breakfast in the same way he does six days of the week. Roman swipes a heavy hand over his features and then grumbles out a syllable which ricochets right back and underscores the pure frustration he's still feeling as well as the loathing and bitter regret,
"Damn."
His head is spinning from a night of sleepless worry and his mind is awash with the image of hurt blue eyes and by fragments of sentences and a gruff sounding timbre that belongs to one man.
I can't fuckin' trust you.
Dean.
Roman groans loudly and then swings his bare legs out, cursing a little as his feet meet the floor the levelled concrete texture of which is frozen and makes him shiver as he gropes to shrug himself back into something half warm. He wonders with a lurch how the other man is feeling and whether he managed to get any sleep at all and perhaps more importantly if the morning has settled him or else made the betrayal seem even more acute. Not that there is anything he can do by simply sitting there and so hauling himself upright with plenty of grumbling he shuffles to the basin and splashes water onto his face before tying his hair back and sucking a breath in as he steps through the doorway and off down the stairs. He is heading for the chow hall, which seems the best solution since he hasn't had a thing since lunch the day before and for a man of his stature that is no laughing matter and is pretty idiotic –
Plus it's where his cellmate is.
He makes it as far as the ground floor of the cell block and past the commissary before he hears himself called and so half turns towards it but carries on walking because he knows from the brightness that it isn't his copper blonde.
"Roman, buddy."
Floppy hair comes bounding towards him, framed above a beard and a perpetual limp but also by a beam of such genuine proportions that it lights the whole place up.
Roman greets him in low tones,
"Mick,"
Foley chuckles like his own name is amusing before rounding off his greeting with a mammoth slap to the spine, which thwacks out loudly and even stings just a little to the point where the lawman has to fight back a wince. His bulky friend seems not to notice however,
"I've been hoping to run into you."
"Uh huh, why is that?"
Roman keeps his stride long as they stalk through the cell block in the vague hope that maybe it will shake the man off and so therefore can't help but sound mildly distracted as he fixes his eyes forwards like he is out stalking prey. Foley pats his own chest suddenly with a big palm and then sucks a deep breath in,
"Listen."
Roman does and then frowns a little at the strange demonstration which seems solely based around his colleague's lung size and in that respect is no more or less of a party trick than anyone with halfway normal breathing function could match.
He blinks in confusion,
"Uh – ,"
"I'm fit and back to normal."
It hits the undercover man like a thunderbolt at once and he actually stifles a hiss of understanding because he doesn't want to make it too obvious he forgot. Not least since he has already managed to lose himself one friend and isn't keen to burn what is likely the only other bridge he has left.
He smiles instead,
"Right, hey that's good man."
"Allergies."
"What?"
Foley chuckles then shakes his head, like he is about to unveil the greatest anecdote in history and needs a few seconds to prepare for the punch. He leans in closer then drops his voice to a murmur but is still grinning broadly,
"They say I'm allergic to dust."
Roman blinks,
"Huh?"
"I know, I know – pretty crazy – but they're telling me I can't go back to the cleaning again and so that means you're gonna need yourself a new partner, so if you've got someone in mind – ,"
He doesn't even pause,
"Dean."
Foley frowns back beneath the oversized eyebrows and then rubs his beard absently which makes a light grating sound and is obviously something he likes to do when he is thinking or else possibly bored or even hungry as well.
He looks up questioningly,
"Dean huh? Is that your roommate?"
Roman nods back then holds down a grunt since he isn't really sure if the copper blonde if anything besides a pissed off prison inmate that he used to know well.
Foley is still thinking,
"Where does he work?"
"Breakfast shift."
"Okay – yeah – I could do that, you think your boy would wanna straight swap me?"
It is another damn question that is debatable at best but since the undercover man isn't keen to spill his business or his brotherly fallout like some gossiping teenage girl, he simply shrugs his shoulders briskly in response to it and then rumbles loose an answer that is vague at best,
"He might."
Foley gestures his hand roughly along the corridor and towards the chow hall doors which are fast coming up but seem void of the usual buzz of activity that trays of hot and halfway decent food conjure up.
"Is that where you're headed?"
"Huh?"
"To find your cellmate?"
Roman shakes his head and a strand of hair falls loose, wrapping itself unhelpfully over his temple before being pushed back roughly,
"Nah man, I'm here for breakfast."
He is at least in part, but the main draw is admittedly getting eyes on his brother and trying to figure the level of his hurt and whether he is liable to forgive him sometime ever or take the opposite view and throw him straight to the wolves, or else potentially the crooked warden which wouldn't be much better but on the bright side might save him another black eye.
Foley whistles,
"Wow, sorry man, you missed it, they packed that show up about two hours back now."
Roman throws a sharp eyed glare at him,
"Two hours?"
Dean always heads right back to the cell after work and so the fact that he is therefore missing brings up alarm bells which Roman rapidly tries to fights back down. After all, it seems reasonable that in the cold light of morning, the frazzled copper blonde might want some time to himself or else lots of time not spent in his roommate's company which the bigger man probably can't even blame him for.
But still –
But still there is something that niggles him because even in the midst of an outright bitch fit, he knows that the younger man would choose to slouch back through their cell door and torture him with agonizing silence instead rather than mooching for over two hours around the unfriendly prison perimeter that he hates.
Wrong, something's wrong.
Roman knows it in a heartbeat and so puts out a hand as they come up to the doors and pushes inside with a sudden burst of panic that has been harnessed and shaped through years of being on the force and having learnt to trust his gut and base instinct.
Foley follows mystified,
"I'm telling you man, the food's all gone."
Beyond the flapping doors the chow hall lies empty but sparkling clean like it has never been used and totally silent which doesn't feel right either because there is usually somebody banging a few pans or hauling in potatoes and carrots for peeling but suddenly there is nothing.
Roman surges across the floor.
His skin is starting to prickle uncertainly and his brown eyes have narrowed into instinctive police mode as he drinks in every last shadow and detail and wishes to hell that he still had his damn gun.
Foley frowns somewhere behind him,
"What is that?"
He is talking about a low murmured noise, that seems to be echoing from out of the kitchens but is oddly lilting and rhythmic and sounds gruff. Roman turns his attentions towards it and ignores the nagging feeling that is twisting around his gut and crosses the space before ducking past the counters and hustling swiftly around the corner.
"What the hell?"
He stops dead.
Bray Wyatt – who has clearly not dropped off the planet – is sitting on the floor with his back pressed to the wall and his long chunky legs stretched right out in front of him, but his creeptacular pale eyes are fixed unblinking dead ahead. He is singing a random tune that isn't especially identifiable but is deep and eerie and unusually slow and as he hums it out one of his paws tousles something that is spread out beside him in an unmoving slump.
Roman's heart turns over on instinct.
Dean.
Bray Wyatt is god damn stroking his friend.
For his part the copper blonde seems totally out of it with his eyes closed and his head lolling heavily in the swamp man's lap and although his curls are being fondled untidily his forehead is marked by a bullseye type welt that is starting to grow into a big reddened duck egg and is clearly the result of having been hit pretty hard or else potentially driven headfirst into something –
Like a hillbilly boot or maybe even a wall.
He is moving though, barely but it means he's not unconscious and the knowledge of that makes Roman blow out a breath and then inwardly lurch as his cellmate lifts a hand up and groggily tries to push the molesting touch away. Bray however merely pinions it down again and then continues to tangle large probing fingers through the hair, like someone has given him a copper headed puppy that he is loving to death.
Roman erupts,
"Get your god damn hands off him you son of a mutha."
He is struck with the feeling that the whole thing is his fault because if he had just been honest in the beginning then his brother would never have been even vaguely on his own and instead they would be sitting reading books in the library and trotting round the yard like they usually would do and yet there his best friend is, in the arms of a madman and only semi-conscious.
Bray blinks and then looks up, almost like he is only just seeing the newcomers but his smile is toothy,
"He isn't for you, the world ain't ready for this one, he ain't like you."
Roman steps in closer,
"I said take your hands off."
He is honestly a second from ploughing in bodily and physically punching the bulky man back but Foley grabs him suddenly and turns him a little as the two swamp brother minions grunt then lumber into view. Mick doesn't seem like a man to back down from anything but in spite of running into things using his cranium, he is obviously not as insane as he basically looks and so is by no means prepared to launch into full battle against three fully grown and frankly mutated men.
He murmurs from behind him,
"Easy, take it easy."
Bray's grin grows even wider and he starts singing again, letting the words tumble clumsily across his beard growth but louder this time, like he's trying to make a point in the knowledge that it will bolster the tension between them and up the creepiness factor by a clear country mile.
"Saw it with my own two eyes, wipe off that grin, know where you've been, it's all a pack of lies."
Roman blinks since it sounds sort of familiar but has nothing in the way of an actual tune and is complemented by more of the unwanted tousling that is making the copper blonde screw up his face and frown. Dean cannot have the first damn clue what is happening, but is aware enough at least to know the touch isn't one he wants and so he grumbles and tries to twist groggily out of it and in response his furious roommate also tries to bridge the gap,
"Let him go, now, or I swear to god – ,"
Bray looks up at him and the movement stops his lackeys who are also shifting in close. For a second they all stand in a weird sort of silence and then, without warning, Bray leans forward to kiss Dean's head in a creepy ass move that makes the policeman's heart lurch over and briefly stuns him bodily into staying where he is.
"Be seeing you boy."
For a man of his proportions, the cult leader actually moves pretty damn fast and slips himself out from beneath his fallen victim in the time it takes the other two men to blink, slithering back to stand between his brethren and stare across the room as Roman quickly takes his place, gathering his fallen friend into his body and hating the way the copper blonde feels so limp.
"Uce?"
Bray grins again,
"This isn't over."
But the next time the detective looks up, the man is gone.
Remember I said no throwing? Because that still applies! But of course Bray would be lurking right? He's Bray.
Next chapter we have the fallout of this fallout chapter, plus a very unexpected cameo (and I use the word loosely...you'll see!)
