There is no refuge from memory and remorse in this world. The spirits of our foolish deeds haunt us, with or without repentance-Gilbert Parker

August 20, 2014 8:30 am

When Seth arrived in Vegas after midnight, he didn't go straight to the hospital. It was well past visitors hours so he knew he'd be turned away. But that wasn't the only thing that kept him from there. He needed time to prepare himself, to talk himself into actually going through with it. So he'd sat at an all night diner a block away from the hospital, drinking coffee and consuming a hell of a lot of greasy comfort food because he needed it in that moment.

At about six this morning, his stomach feeling like it was about to burst, he took a long walk around the area. He'd stumbled across a gym and decided that he needed a good workout to clear his head. After that he took a shower and let out a deep breath, deciding that if he was really going to do this, it had to be now. Before he talked himself out of going inside and resigned himself to stalking it from afar. When he pulled up to the hospital, it still took him fifteen minutes before he worked up the nerve to venture inside.

He found out that Dean had been moved to a private room.

There was no doubt in his mind that it was Vince McMahon's doing. He wanted to stay on the unstable man's good side right now and that meant making sure that he was well taken care of. The boss made it clear when he had screamed at Kane and him for putting the company in a vulnerable position that if Dean decided to file a lawsuit against the WWE for what happened, that he in turn would fire them then sue them for every penny they had. That he would make sure that no other wrestling company would come anywhere near them. He knew that the owner of the company meant every single word but he didn't care, they deserved it.

Seth leaned against the door, afraid to move or even breath too loudly, eyes fixed on the shockingly still body on the bed. Considering everything, Dean didn't look too bad. There was a small breathing tube up his nose but none covering his mouth. The usual array of Iv's and nutrient drips ran into his arms and there were two circular dots on his forehead to monitor brain activity. The only real sign of what he had gone through was the slightly swollen and ugly discolored area of his forehead.

His eyes lingered on that longer than they should have.

It still shocked the hell out of him that Dean had seemingly survived the attack without sustaining any major damage. If it happened to most people, the outcome would be a hell of a lot worse. But maybe years of Dean willingly putting his body through hell had been the reason he was apparently alright. Or maybe it was the man's refusal to do anything that caused him to bulk up, stating that carrying extra weight on your frame was begging to get yourself injured so he preferred to be lean. Either that or the dirty blonde was really as indestructible as he once claimed to be.

He finally made a move away from the door. The steps that carried him to the chair by the bed were tentative. Lowered his body down into it slowly, eyes never leaving the figure laying there. It was stupid. Even though the eccentric man was unconscious, he couldn't get rid of the irrational fear that he'd spring up from the bed and attack him.

What did he do now? Did he talk? Express the regret he had for doing something so disgusting? Would it even count as an apology since Dean wasn't awake to hear it? Was telling the other man while he couldn't hear it just a way for him to get rid of the weight he felt bearing down on his chest?

For once the architect was at a loss for once in his life. There was no grand plan. No schemes. He didn't have a strategy. Nothing to fall back on at all.

The door opened and an older nurse came in, stopping when she saw him. "Oh, you weren't who I was expecting."

A slight frown tugged at his lips as he wondered if she knew who he was and that he was responsible for Dean's condition. "What do you mean?"

"When they said that someone was in with Mr. Ambrose, I just figured it was that big guy who had been here with him since right after he was brought in." She stated with a smile but that quickly disappeared as she continued. "Or the angry one who called several times, yelling about his employee having the best care and demanding that he be updated on his condition throughout the day."

"Oh," Relief coursed through his body and he offered her a smile that he knew wouldn't look threatening or devious for the first time in months. "Roman, that's the big guy, had to go back to work because, well, you've spoken to our boss. I figured that I'd take over sitting duties since I'm currently on leave. Didn't want him to be alone if he woke up. Hope that's ok? I know that visiting hours haven't technically begun yet -"

"It's fine. The room is private so the rules are a little more lax." She assured him, her tone motherly and kind. "Plus, the best medicine for him is hearing familiar, friendly voices."

"You think he can hear me?" That alarmed him because if it was true then the sound of his voice might cause distress. He really didn't want to add that to the already mile long list of offenses that he was guilty of. "Or that he'd even be able to recognize my voice when he's in…he's unconscious."

"I know he can." She picked up the long paper graph and indicted to a line that was slightly elevated compared to the rest. "You see that right there? His brainwaves show increased activity right now. It's a direct response to the sound of a familiar voice which is a positive sign."

His eyes widened at the print out. "Then how come he hasn't woken up?"

"There can be a number of reasons but in cases where the patient has suffered severe trauma, like Mr. Ambrose did, it's not uncommon for them to be unconscious longer."

"Is it considered a coma?"

The nurse sighed, "As of right now, no."

"I feel like that has a but to it."

"However; if he doesn't awaken in the next few hours then it will enter that territory. After that, the next twenty four hours become crucial. If by that point he doesn't wake up, the doctor will request a meeting with his family to go over all possible situations including movement to a long term care facility if it's needed."

"Dean doesn't have any family." He muttered quietly, heart sinking in his chest at the wave of crushing guilt that surged up inside him.

It wasn't a lie.

Not really.

Dean had cut off all contact with his mother years ago, when he decided as a teenager that it was better to be homeless than living with a drug addict who was rapidly spiraling down. His father had never really been in his life, spending more time in prison than he ever did with his son. From the brief times that the dirty blonde had spoken of his family, he made it clear that he felt it was better if they had no involvement in his life at all. That meant that he would not want or trust them to be in charge of making medical care decisions for him.

He raised haunted eyes to the woman, nervously shifting. "What would happen in that case?"

"Does he have a girlfriend or fiancée?"

"No." He bit his lip, hoping against hope that in case any decisions needed to be made, Dean had listed one of them as his next of kin on his emergency contact information. If not, he had no clue what that would mean for the dirty blonde. "There's only Roman and me."

The nurse must have picked up his increased distress because she gave his arm a comforting pat. "I honestly don't think that it'll come to that. Your friend is strong, this was not a minor incident but he made it through with barely a scratch. Have faith that he'll wake up and when he does, he'll pass the rest of the tests."

"It's harder than I'd thought it would be." Seth confessed, swallowing thickly, hands wringing nervously. "Seeing him like this. So still and quiet. Dean's never still, there's always a part of him that's moving and he hardly ever shuts up once he knows and is comfortable around you. Always cracking a joke, making a quip, telling a story or singing out loud."

A tissue entered his field of vision and he blinked, just now feeling the wetness trickling from his eyes. "It's alright to be worried about your friend. There's nothing wrong with crying."

"I just…" But the words choked off in his throat as a groan sounded through the room.

Both him and the nurse turned their attention to the bed, staring intently. For a minute there was no other sound and he wondered if that groan was nothing more than his guilt-ridden mind playing tricks on him. He was about to give up when he drew in a sharp breath, seeing Dean's fingers flex against the blanket. His heart started racing as he witnessed the man lying there scrunch his face in pain and emit another groan. Eyelids slowly peeled open but slammed shut against the harsh hospital light as a hiss tumbled over parted lips.

"Looks like your friend is waking up." The nurse gave him a grin. "I'll be right back, I'm going to get his doctor."

Seth thought he nodded but he might not have. He was fighting a battle inside himself, feeling like he'd been splintered into fragments. Part of him, the part that he really hated, wanted to get the hell out of there before Dean saw him now that he knew that the man was out of the woods. But the other part, his long ignored human side, wanted to sprint over to the dirty blonde's bedside and pull him into a bear hug. Then there was a voice in his head that was screaming at him to call Roman and let him know about this development.

The only thing he knew for sure was that he was definitely ignoring that last voice. Calling the oldest member of the trio would be a disaster. The Samoan man would not be happy to hear from him and even less happy that he was there with Dean. That would probably end with Roman showing up on his doorstep and murdering him on next time he had a day off. Since he didn't want to die anytime soon, he'd leave it to the hospital or Dean to do the honors.

"Fuck."

The raspier than normal curse brought him back to reality and he found himself moving toward the sound without a second thought. "Dean? You alright?"

"My throat hurts."

Seth grabbed the pitcher of water off the table and poured some into the cup and placing a straw into it. He placed the tip of the straw against pale lips, "Take a drink but do it slowly."

Blue eyes cracked open and looked at him, blinking a few times to get in focus then followed the instructions given to him.

Seth didn't see any hatred in those expressive orbs as they stared up at him. No murderous intent turning them stormy like there had been since the betrayal. They looked a little confused and slightly glassier than normal though. He took the straw away and gave the dirty blonde a tremulous smile, his flight instinct urging him to step away. "The doctor will be in a couple of minutes to check on you. Just relax and try to stay calm until then ok?"

"Huh? What? Doctor?" It was asked in a voice that was reminiscent of sandpaper. Rough and scratchy. He attempted to move and the IV in his arm much have pinched. "What the hell?"

"Something happened and they needed to bring you to the hospital." He knew how much Dean hated hospitals and had to let him know that there was no other option. "There was no way around it."

Suddenly, the confusion lessened as did the glassiness. Those eyes were almost crystal clear, had narrowed slightly and his fingers began to pluck at the fabric of the blanket in all too familiar tic of agitation. "I remember now."

Seth gulped, taking a step out of swinging range. "I can explain-"

"Fucking Wyatt."

He frowned and figured that he'd heard that wrong. That had to be it. Between the beep of the machines and the lower than normal voice, it was easy to misunderstand. "I didn't quite catch that man. What did you say?"

"Wyatt did this to me, didn't he?" A sharp note of anger threaded through his tone.

That caused the alarm to sound in his mind. Dean hadn't been in the ring with Bray since the Shield feuded with the freaky family. Which was before their war with Evolution. His hands shook violently as he roughly wound his fingers into his fading blonde patch, tugging at it. "What?"

"We fought out of the out into the stands and somehow made it outside, still pounding away on each other." His face screwed up in thought. "But everything's blank after that."

Holy shit! Dean was talking about the match at Elimination Chamber. The match that happened back in February. Almost six months ago. This was bad, really bad, mind numbingly bad. All he could do was repeat his earlier question as he worriedly stared down at the man on the bed. "What?"

"Head's killing me so the wannabe cult leader either hit me over the head with something or rammed my head into something until I blacked out." A hint of a smirk twisted his lips and his eyes lit up. "Unless this headache from hell is because we hit up a bar after we dispatched of those damn Wyatt boys."

"We lost." He mumbled, eyes wide and frightened now and the words flowed helplessly from his mouth. "There was no celebrating or commiserating. Didn't even know where the hell you were for hours."

Seth was spared from having to say more when the doctor entered the room. Dr. Johnson introduced himself and asked for a few minutes alone with his patient to examine him. He shakily followed the nurse out of the room and dropped down into the chair, his entire body trembling and boneless.

The older lady put her hand on his shoulder, "What's wrong?"

"Something's not right!" His voice shook and cracked. "He doesn't remember, thinks it's six months ago."

"That's common with patients who suffered a blow to the head. It usually clears up anywhere between a few hours to a few days. Never seen it last more than a week."

"But what if it doesn't go away?" The question was practically whispered. "What if he never remembers?"

"Despite what television and movies portray, the odds of that happening are very slim."

"It could happen though."

She shook her head, "It could but it won't. He'll remember. You've just got to relax and give it time. Remember, he just woke up after being unconscious for nearly two days due to a head injury. Things are bound to be a little fuzzy for him."

He ran his hands over his face roughly. "It's just hard…"

The door to the room opened, cutting him off and he jumped to his feet, anxious eyes imploring the doctor for good news as he stepped outside. "Well, how is he? Is there any damage? What bout his memory?

Dr. Johnson held up a hand with a chuckle. "I can't answer anything if you don't stop asking."

"Sorry."

"I can't go into specifics because that would be a HIPAA violation but I can tell you that the signs are very encouraging so far, more tests will need to be run before we're positive of anything."

"But the memory loss?"

"Is not uncommon at this point given the amount of time that he was unconscious for and the blow he sustained to his head." Dr Johnson stated flatly. "Mr. Ambrose will be undergoing a series of tests later that will provide more answers about any possible injuries he sustained and if there's cause for concern."

Seth knew that was all he'd get out of the doctor on that subject, so he decided to change it to something else he was worried about. "When will he be able to be released?"

"If all goes well with the tests then I don't see why Mr. Ambrose wouldn't be released tomorrow afternoon but he will not be medically cleared to return to his job until he meets all the terms and conditions of the concussion protocol."

"Which are?"

"As I explained to Mr. Reigns, due to the nature of his injury and his chosen profession then we have to proceed with caution. While we'll release him from the hospital, he will have to see a neurologist and complete an impact test within the first two weeks then the results must be confirmed within the two weeks following that with a follow up visit and a second round of testing."

He dragged a hand through his hair. That meant that Ambrose wouldn't receive medical clearance for almost a month. There was no way in hell if left to his own devices that Dean would accept or comply with those terms. He'd find some half-ass doctor to clear him as soon as possible and never bother with the follow up tests. "He lives alone, are there any chances of setbacks or problems arising after his release?"

"Head injuries are unpredictable so there's no way to give a firm answer on that." Dr. Johnson conceded. "I would strongly encourage Mr. Ambrose to stay with or have someone stay with him until after his first neurologist visit."

He thanked them and watched as they walked away. His mind already starting to sort through the information he had been given and make plans. Because that's the only way he could cope with this situation. To keep himself from freaking out. So that's what he did as he sat there with his head in hands.

Roman would be the first and only real choice to take on the task. Him and Dean had become best friends since Seth's betrayal. They were a hell of a lot closer now than they had been during the Shield days when it seemed like they'd kill each other. No way would he allow the dirty blonde to skip out on his obligations on his road to recovery. He'd make sure that the eccentric man followed the doctor's advice to the letter so he could come back better than ever.

There was two problems with that scenario though.

First problem: Roman had a wife and a daughter waiting at home for him. Ones that it drove him crazy to be away from for long periods of time and to know that he was missing so many significant moments in his daughter's life. He valued the couple of days a week that he got to spend with them, the rare opportunity to just be a normal husband and father during those days. Because he didn't get enough of that. While he'd definitely give it up to take care of his best friend for a while, it would take a toll on his family life.

Second problem: the authority would never give him an entire month off. Not only because they detested the Samoan man but because it wasn't best for business. Especially with Seth being suspended and Dean not being able to gain medical clearance. It left the company without two of the company's three main work horses and without it's hottest current rivalry. That forced them to rely on Roman to pick up the slack by making his feud with Randy the top thing on TV.

His mind shifted to the next option.

Dean had other friends. A lot of them. You couldn't travel to a state and not have the dirty blonde know at least one person who lived there. But most of those friends were fellow wrestlers and had their own families and commitments to worry about, working regular jobs through the week and wrestling wherever they could on weekends. The ones who didn't wrestle or have families were the ones who were still heavy into partying. Not to mention that from what he witnessed, Dean didn't seem to be exceptionally close to any of those friends anymore.

That left no one but Seth to do it.

It was the simplest solution really. He was already out for thirty days. Wasn't permitted to do media or anything pertaining to the company during that time. Had no wife or children to worry about, sure he had his dog Kevin but his mom wouldn't have an issue keeping him until he was back home. That meant that he had nothing but free time on his suspended hands.

The big issue with him being the one to look after Dean was the fact that he was responsible for putting the man in this situation. He was the enemy, the man who betrayed his brothers. Yeah, Ambrose didn't remember that right now but the doctor and nurse were sure that it was only temporary. If he remembered before they released him, there was no way in hell he'd ever agree to it no matter what was said. And if he regained his memory once he was home, well, Dean probably beat the ever loving shit our of him and bury him in his back yard.

But that human side that Seth had spent the last two months ignoring, the one that missed real companionship and brotherhood, told him that he had to grab hold of this opportunity to make it up to Dean. That taking care of the dirty blonde was the least he could do since it was his fault. He owed it to the other man to make sure that he came through it intact and with a clean bill of health. Whispered that maybe, just maybe, this act of atonement could fix things between them. Get them to a place where they weren't trying to destroy each other anymore.

That was why he decided to say screw the consequences and do it.

Now, he just had to go back into the room and tell Dean. Make him understand that this was what was best. Hopefully the older man wouldn't put up a fight. But he had a feeling that he would. Dean was nothing if not stubborn and enjoyed living alone, not having anyone around to police his activities and lecture him when he wasn't doing what he was supposed to.

Seth got to his feet and took a deep breath, steeling himself to do battle.