Dreams You Never Lived

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: The wrestlers own themselves, the gimmicks are owned by WWE/NXT. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins, one-sided Bray Wyatt/Dean Ambrose.

Setting: Post-Hall of Fame 2016.

Summary: "He'll hurt you again and again."

Dean shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time. Wouldn't be the last, even if-even if things were different." Even if I chose you. But I can't. You ain't mine, and I can't ever be yours. He's mine.

Italics for flashback.

Part Three of Unmei.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He had known as soon as he had looked at him. That buzzing feeling, that electricity between them. He could never take his eyes off of him.

Seth Rollins had always been something special.

Perhaps it was...no it was because of that, that when another kind of electric feeling underneath his skin came upon him, that he could deal with it, that he made it bearable for himself. He always ran something different in the eyes of other people, so something like this? Nothing.

It was nothing.

Despite the looks that Bray Wyatt gave him, the words he spouted at him:

"You do not understand!"

"I understand perfectly, Wyatt! I-just-don't-care!"

Here Wyatt's shoulders droop and he sees a defeated look upon his face. No matter what had happened before this to the Wyatt Family leader, he had never looked like this, as if his soul was shriveling from the inside. He almost, almost, feels a twinge of sympathy looking at him. It was just almost, damnit! It would never be more than that.

"You know what this is." Wyatt says tonelessly. "You know, sunshine."

He bristles at the nickname, but more than that, at the thought of being caged to anyone. He had never wanted that. Had always railed against it, for all of his life. And now...now...

"I know," he says hoarsely. "But I'm already caged by someone else. And I'm never gonna get out of there."

"Even though he doesn't deserve you, even though he doesn't care!" Wyatt's voice breaks, looking away.

"Even so. He's still mine. He'll never be any less, even though we've never been together-and probably never will. All the same. He's mine. An' I'm his; even if he doesn't want to admit it." Always together. A broken Shield, but the pieces were still there.

"He'll hurt you again and again."

Dean shrugs. "Wouldn't be the first time. Wouldn't be the last, even if-even if things were different." Even if I chose you. But I can't. You ain't mine, and I can't ever be yours. He's mine.

Seth was his.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The Hall of Fame had been pretty cool, he supposed, all things considered. Still it unnerved him to see Seth so close to where he sat (well, to see him so close at all, actually.) Seth had never turned his head to look at him, but he could still feel the tension radiating off of Seth. Could almost see his hands clenching, words unsaid on his lips.

There was still so much unsaid between them.

That had been obvious for about as long as Dean could remember.

Somehow he found himself in one of the hotel's bathrooms without remembering how he got there. He had been talking to Roman in the lobby ("Don't feel like partying, man. Thinking about what I want to do to Lesnar tomorrow.) and then he was here. To be fair, Wrestlemania was only hours away and he'd be facing one of the most difficult things in his life. The true need led him to do one of the rarest things that either him or Roman did and got a separate room. Most always they'd room together. It wasn't just to save money; it was to spend time with their (one remaining) Brother, shoot the shit, and help each other unwind from the craziness of the day they had spent.

He couldn't ask for a better Brother in Roman. Roman who, despite all the heat he was getting from the fans, still kept himself in great spirits (and in doing so, kept Dean's spirits up-not an easy feat.)

He splashes water on his face from the sink, not looking up as the door opens, but his shoulders tense all the same.

He knew.

He'd know who that was if he was rendered blind and deaf.

He'd always know Seth.

"Talk with me?"

He feels them both startle.

It hadn't been Seth who asked that; it had been him.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He stops as he starts to open the door to his room, turning to look at Seth. He looked hesitant, shaking his head.

"This isn't-I can't," Seth says, almost in one breath. He starts to look a little frantic now. "This wasn't a good idea. I have to-"

He actually jumps as Dean grabs one of his wrists, his eyes wide and doe like in his face. It's now that Dean notices what one of the things that he hadn't before, at the Hall of Fame ceremony.

Seth's hair.

He had blond in it again, real blond, nearly taking over half of his hair. It was like looking into the Seth of the past.

He shakes his head now, a wounded sound in his throat.

"Please." His voice was a guttural sound, his voice grating over glass. He was shaking; they both were.

If Seth rejected him now, as he had all the times before... then this...then this wouldn't be here. Despite all the anger, the hurt, the feelings that had swirled in him at the betrayal-at the strike of a chair against Roman's back and then his own-none of that compared.

He knew he could forgive Seth anything.

And that terrified him.

Still, he held firm to Seth's wrist, despite that fear.

He loved Seth Rollins with all he knew how to give.

It had been that way since the beginning of forever and it'd always be so forever after.

The door opens. And then closes.

"Yes," Seth begs, his voice sobbing against emotion. "Yes."

Seth is all but plastered against him and all he can think of is this is everything before moving his mouth over Seth's in an almost desperate, hard way.

The feeling of rightness stays with him, settling in his belly.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He lays on the bed, stroking Seth's sweat soaked hair (with Seth still pleasantly plastered against him) and felt more content than he ever had in his life. He kisses the side of Seth's head, enjoying the pleased sound Seth makes as he does so.

"Love you." Seth murmurs. He seemed not far from sleep; with as much as they had done to one another, it wasn't surprising. "And..." He hesitates. "I'm sorry."

Dean stiffens.

They hadn't spoken about any of that in the time they had been in the hotel room. It had been The Thing left unsaid between them and he hadn't been sure how to approach it-if he wanted to approach it at all. He hadn't wanted to ruin this thing between them, afraid it would unravel before it could be completed.

"It was just...it was too much," Seth says in a low tone, almost as if to himself. Dean continues stroking his hair, just listening. "The-the feelings for you. That feeling. It was too much. I couldn't take it anymore. I had to get away. I had tried to fight against it for so long and I'd have rather cut my fucking arm off than hurt you, either of you, but it-" His eyes squeeze close for a moment and he looked in a lot of pain. "It was everything and I was afraid."

"I know," Dean says quietly. "I know what it felt like. Felt it every damn day since I saw you the first time, back in FCW when you were just a punk kid and I was a scrappy punk kid." He pulls on Seth's head a bit so he looks up at him. "Not much has really changed since then. Except I got even better looking than you than I did before."

Seth rolls his eyes. "In your dreams, Ambrose." But his voice sounded pleased.

Then: "Every day?" At Dean's nod, his eyes widen. "How have you dealt with it all that time?"

Dean shrugs as much as he is able in his position leaning against the headboard. "I hurt things. Same as you; helped keep the feelings at bay."

Seth is quiet for a moment, his hands tracing something over Dean's stomach he can't make out, but lets him do it anyway. Then finally: "I never wanted to ask for your forgiveness, Dean."

"Why?" It wasn't said angrily, just questioningly.

"Because then I'd have to face those feelings. And if you didn't feel the same...it'd destroy me."

Dean lets out a thoughtful sound, before yanking on Seth, pulling him up to look at him face to face (causing the other man to let out a rather unmanly squeak as he does so.)

"Stay?"

By Seth's expression, he knew what Dean meant. There was a lot more than just this hotel room, after all. He swallows hard.

"Couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice