Betrayal is the only truth that sticks― Arthur Miller

September 10, 2014

Seth stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, his eyes locked on the spot that Dean had disappeared from. That familiar weight bore down on him, making his shoulders sag and that cold pit of dread spread through his stomach. His brain was running tirelessly as it tried to piece together what the look on the dirty blonde's face, those turbulent emotion in his eyes and his hasty retreat really meant. Was he just upset about the scene he witnessed? Seeing the two men he considered his brothers at each other's throat might provoke that response.

That logic didn't feel right though. Rang hollow. Because it wasn't in Dean's nature to be skittish about those kinds of scenes. If anything, he'd watch them battle it out and wouldn't do anything to interfere since it was a fair fight. Probably be munching on popcorn while he did.

"He remembers." A voice in his mind whispered knowingly.

Something in his heart twisted painfully because he had a feeling it was right.

He was vaguely aware of Roman brushing past him, shoulder checking him out of his way as the overly loud crash of something inside the apartment shattered the ominous, heavy silence that had descended. From there on, it was a crescendo of destruction. As much as he wanted to follow and stop it, knew that he should since this was his fault but he couldn't move. His limbs were completely frozen and ignored the command to move from his brain. There was yelling from the house now, the gravelly raised voice causing goose-bumps to raise on his skin even though he couldn't make out what it was yelling.

A shudder ran down his spine as another loud, shattering crash punctuated the heated exchange.

The front door banged open and heavy footsteps pounded down the stairs. He tensed in preparation, excepting to be met by one of the two irate men with a barrage of fists. But to his surprise, it didn't happen. A figure passed by the open gate but it was moving too quickly to ascertain who it was. Shaking, shallow breaths escaped his lungs as he felt relief sweep through his body.

In the distance he could hear an engine crank and tires squeal on the pavement. More footsteps pounded down the stairs but they didn't venture toward his location. They paused at the sidewalk, a loud stomp of a boot-clad foot punctuating their apparent anger at whatever transpired inside. "DEAN!"

That short-lived relief fled his body, leaving it feeling cold and unsettled. Suddenly, he found that he could move. He took off running toward the shout. His mind weaving a scenario that he hoped wasn't the case. Pulling up short so he wouldn't collide with Roman, he followed the paralyzed figure's gaze toward the parking lot. Wide, fearful eyes landed on the spot where he had parked his rental a few minutes ago. All that was there now was an empty space and the faint impression of rubber burns on the concrete.

"How the hell…" The words left Seth's mouth in a dismayed whisper. This could not be happening. Things couldn't have gotten this out of control. It had be a mistake. His hand flew to his pocket, looking for the keys to the car.

It was empty.

"Oh no, no, damn it." He croaked as the realization that he either dropped them or that they must have fallen out of his pocket during the initial confrontation in the apartment.

Roman sighed loudly, pushing hands through his hair. He closed his eyes and shook his head then turned his attention toward Seth. "This is all your fault."

"I-I-…" The words died in his throat because he really couldn't argue that point. Because it was the truth. His actions over the last few months were to blame for everything. If he hadn't turned his back on the Shield and joined forces with the authority, this situation would never have taken place.

They lapsed into a tense, suffocating silence as the reality of the situation settled over them. Seth tried to figure out what to do and how to fix this. Because he needed to have a game-plan now. No more making it up as he went along. Roman was probably plotting how to kill him and dispose of the body without garnering attention.

He dropped down onto the stairs leading up to Dean's front door and sighed, pushing a hand through his messy hair. "This isn't good. Not only is he not supposed to be alone but he's also not supposed to drive until he's been pronounced medically clear."

"Dean wasn't exactly in the mood to listen to reason." The bigger man rolled his eyes. "If he had been then he would have stopped trashing his apartment when I tried to talk to him instead of chucking the entire dish strainer full of dishes at the wall."

"Oh."

"What were you thinking?" Gray eyes narrowed.

"That I could help him…"

"No, not that." He took a deep breath before he continued. "What were you thinking when you were standing on that announcer's table about to curb stomp a man that had been your friend, had been your brother, through a pile of cinderblocks?"

There were so many things he could say. A million different excuses or justifications that he could spit out to try to deflect. But he didn't use any of them. A sigh trailed over his lips as he forced himself to meet the angry gaze. "I made myself stop thinking or else I wouldn't have been able to do it."

"Why would you ever agree to it in the first place?"

"I didn't know what I was agreeing with until it was too late." He swallowed thickly. "I couldn't back out or else they would have taken everything away from me. I couldn't let that happen."

Roman looked disgusted by that answer. "So the fact that you could of paralyzed or even killed Dean didn't matter cause at least you'd still have the authority and that tainted briefcase by your side?"

His eyes closed, "I didn't think about the possible outcomes."

"Jesus."

"I was on autopilot after it happened. None of it really registered until the next day, after I got suspended and was back at the hotel. I realized exactly what it was that I did and what could've happened. Then Hunter called to update me, bragged about how Dean's doctor didn't know if he'd ever wake up. I couldn't just go back to Iowa after I heard that, I needed to see for myself that he was wrong and that Dean would be alright."

"Why didn't you leave once you knew he would be? Why put yourself and Dean in this situation when you knew that the second he remembered that all hell was going to break loose?"

There was no way to explain it and have Roman believe that there were no ulterior motives for doing it. That was just how things were between them now. Seth could tell him that the sky was blue and he'd call bullshit. But he tried anyway. "Told you, I couldn't leave him alone and take a chance that he'd jeopardize his recovery. I needed him to get better and be able to get back in the ring."

"Why was Dean recovering and getting back into the ring so important to you? Planning that moment when you finish him off once and for all for the world to see?"

"No," He shook his head for added emphasis. "I don't want that to happen."

Roman pushed, eyes scanning his face. "Then why?"

"I told you already."

"You said that it's because you still care." The Samoan's eyes narrowed. "Which I think is a bunch of shit. You're just having an attack of conscience and feel guilty for what you did so you're trying to save your ass."

Seth gave a humorless chuckle, "Then there's really no reason that we should bother continuing this conversation if you've already made up your mind. Repeating myself isn't going to change what you think and I'm tired of wasting my breath."

"Because I sat by Dean's bedside, wondering if he was ever going to wake up, if he was going to be brain damaged or paralyzed when he did and trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your mind. Why you could be so remorseless for what you did? How things had gotten this bad?" The words were sharp and jagged, edged in burning rage that made him tremble. "So I think that means that you owe it to me to answer any damn thing I ask!"

"I don't owe you the answers though. Not really." He said flatly. "The only person I owe anything to is Dean."

"He remembers now."

A rough swallow worked down his throat at having confirmation but he forced himself to speak around the lump. "I figured that much already."

"You really think he's going to bother asking the why's and how's? That he'll even give you the chance to try to clear the air?" A scoff followed that rhetorical question. "Your attempt at a good deed didn't buy you any leeway with him. He's going to be out for blood and I really don't blame him at all."

"Neither can I."

"Then why are you still standing here?" An eyebrow cocked, "Knowing that he remembers and how he's going to react, shouldn't you be turning tail and running back to Iowa now like the coward you are?"

He ignored the dig, used to the attacks on his character by now. "I know that I'm probably not going to get it but I want a chance to explain and apologize. I owe him that at least even if he punches me in the face after I say it."

"Are you willing to risk his health over it?" Roman stance was combative. "Because I doubt that a confrontation is on the acceptable list on that concussion protocol."

He deflated slightly, knowing that the other man was right about that point and having a good idea about where this was leading.

"I'm not going to stand by and let you hurt him anymore than you already have, which means that you need to be gone before Dean gets back." The older man informed him tightly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "This isn't negotiable. You're going to go get your stuff together and get a cab to the airport since he took your rental. I'll handle turning it in tomorrow."

Seth stood, feeling defeated. He wanted to refuse. To say that he wasn't going anywhere until him and Dean hashed this out. But Roman was right when he said that Dean couldn't handle a confrontation at this point in time. So he pushed it down and gave in. "I know that you don't owe me anything but can you at least text me to let me know he's safe? I know that no matter what I say, you won't believe it but I do care about that."

"Fine."

He nodded jerkily and headed up to the apartment. Once he opened the door, he paused before going inside. The air was still heavy, the lingering feel of rage and violence still swirled inside. His eyes swept around and he felt that all too familiar stab of guilt pierce through him. Because it looked like a hurricane had torn through the room.

Lamps on the ground, metal bent from the force of impact. Coffee table and stools upended. Shards of glass littering the floor. TV screen spider webbed and askew. A dark smudge on the wall where the dish strainer had been hurled at it and there was a chunk of plaster cracked in another spot where something had connected with the wall.

Judging from the height and shape, there was very little doubt that it had been a fist.

Several different emotions ran through him. Fear. Sadness. Anger. But he didn't dwell on them as he finally forced himself to move from the door and into the chaos. He couldn't. All he could now was what was best for Dean and that meant getting as far away from the dirty blonde as he could.

He quickly gathered his belongings and took one last look around. Memories of the brotherly talks, silly conversations and bonding moments that occurred over the last three weeks sliced through him. They hurt. Badly. But he pushed the ache aside and headed back out front.

Roman was waiting there, phone in his hand. "Your cab should be here soon."

"Have you heard from him?"

"No and I won't." The Samoan informed him gruffly. "He threw his phone at the TV. It's somewhere inside the house, probably broken along with all the other stuff."

"I can cover the damages…" Seth started to offer but was quickly and soundly cut off.

"That's not necessary."

The cab pulled up as he was essentially dismissed and he sighed, a curt nod serving as his goodbye to his former big brother. He tossed his bag into the backseat and climbed in, closing the door a little more firmly than needed. "McCarran airport."

Roman cleaned the apartment while he waited for it's tenant to return. It beat sitting around trying to figure this all out. Even though he'd gotten answers to his questions, it didn't clarify anything for him. It only gave him more questions. Ones he couldn't find the strength to ask because he had a feeling that the answers would only make this worse.

He grabbed a piece of paper, sitting at the breakfast bar and started making a list of all the things that were broken that would need to be replaced. The TV even though it would be argued otherwise because despite what the dirty blonde asserted, his brother loved watching every wrestling and big foot special that was released. Dishes. Lamps. A coffee table since the legs caved in when Dean kicked it over. Some paint and spackle to repair the damage to the walls.

That was all easily fixed. It was just a matter of taking Dean shopping and forcing the thrifty man to spend the money. Wouldn't even take them more than a few hours. Then his apartment would once again be the sanctuary that the dirty blonde felt it to be. It would bring back a little stability.

Which he would need to deal with the loss of Seth.

Again.

Because that was what this whole twisted situation turned into. Dean had been able to look at the younger man as his brother these past few weeks. Regained the bonds that were lost when Seth betrayed them back in June. Put his faith and trust into the architect. Allowed himself to share his fears about what this injury meant to his life and career.

Once again, Seth had betrayed him.

Lied and schemed to get what he wanted.

Going through it the first time had been horrible. The most mentally and physically painful experience of his life. But he knew that it had been worse for Dean. He didn't allow himself to trust or care easily because of past experiences. Seth's betrayal had destroyed him, reduced him to a spiraling, confused, angry mess that could barely function.

It had taken a lot of time, effort, talking and promises to even get Dean to trust him enough to let him be there for him. To continue on as the friend's and brothers they had been since the Shield formed. Get him to understand that their bond didn't disappear with their wayward former little brother's betrayal. Make him accept that even though they weren't blood, they were family and nothing could change that. Reassure him that he'd always be there for him no matter what.

Roman failed.

His first failure came when he hadn't been there to stop the curb stomp through the cinder-blocks. He failed again when he was forced to leave Dean alone and vulnerable at the hospital. Didn't matter that both times, he'd been ordered away by the authority. All that mattered was that he hadn't fought the orders and did exactly what they wanted. That left Dean to inevitably pay the price.

The authority and Seth had taken away so much from Dean already. They cut the bonds he had formed when they lured Seth to their side. Dean's safety had been threatened repeatedly by having him jumped by their minions. That already battered and scarred mind, body and soul had been shredded further with every cold, calculated word and attack Seth launched. Their latest attempt tried to take away his livelihood and even worse, his life.

This latest plot could be the final blow. The proverbial death blow. Dean's miniscule ability to trust might be finally be eviscerated. That meant that he'd lash out and push away anyone he felt too close to him. Not that it was a long list. In fact, it was list with only one name on it.

Roman swallowed as he realized that what Seth had done could end up costing him his one remaining brother. Because there was no way that Dean wouldn't blame him for this happening, for letting him down when he needed him most. He wasn't there, again, to stop it. Didn't realize what was going on and step in before the damage could be done. Even though he knew from their short conversations on the phone that the dirty blonde was keeping something from him.

He'd foolishly overlooked the things that the doctor had told him about what was needed during Dean's recovery. Didn't really think about how limited the younger man was in his day to day life because of the protocol. Figured that maybe, just maybe, one of the dirty blonde's buddies from the Indy's were taking care of him. Or that maybe his brother had charmed some nurse and had her assisting him during his time of need. Never even considered that the suspended sellout who caused this injury would have the audacity to step in and play the role of savior.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the front door opening. His eyes darted up to the doorway, mouth pulled into a vicious scowl. Because part of him expected Seth to be the one walking through that door. To have ignored his order to leave and not look back. Attempt to stand his ground and refuse to do what was best for everyone involved because he thought he knew better.

But it wasn't Seth.

It was a tired, gaunt looking Dean who stood there, rubbing the back of his neck.

His scowl vanished, replaced with a genuine look of concern. "Hey, you alright?"

"I didn't crash his car if that's what you're asking." A brief smirk appeared on Dean's lips but it was replaced by a stoic expression. "Though he's gonna be charged for the mirror I took off and the paint that got all scratched up when I sideswiped the fence."

Roman would normally laugh at that. Shake his head with mirth. This time was different though. It was a hell of a lot more serious. That could have happened because of the other man's concussion instead of just him being petty. "You shouldn't have taken off. Not supposed to be driving in your condition."

"If I didn't, I would have killed him." A shrug followed that. "Figured I'd go with the lesser of two evils."

"You never answered my question." He tried again, pinning his younger brother with an assessing look. Hoping that he'd be able to spot any telltale signs. "Are you okay?"

"Don't know what you want me to say man."

"The truth, no matter how bad or ugly it is."

Dean shifted in his spot, those old familiar tics of agitation making their presence known. Fingers drumming in a frantic rhythm against his collarbone. "I got played. Simple as that. Nothing new there when it comes to that lying scumbag."

"You couldn't help it because you didn't remember." Roman stated firmly, hoping that it would sink into the other's man head. "Seth took advantage of that, like the weasel that he is. Don't blame yourself for what he did."

"I should've known though." The words were bitter. "He was acting weird. Not using his phone or checking his damn twitter. Being all cautious when we had to go out for appointments. Acting evasive if I said something about the shield or asked something about the past few months."

"You didn't have any reason to suspect that he wasn't genuine."

Blue eyes narrowed, "I think he was though. Even now, I still think that he was actually concerned, that he actually wanted to try to help me and that he was sorry for what he did."

Roman was caught off guard by that, "You do?"

"That's what got me pissed off because I should know better!" The dirty blonde paced, hands slapping his thighs. "I mean, how could I still think that when the last few months tell me that there's no way it could be true?"

"He said that there was no ulterior motive for this." He ventured cautiously, not wanting to get his head ripped off. "That he regretted what he did and was trying to make up for it. All he wanted was to make sure that you recovered fully."

"But that's gotta be a lie, more bullshit to get into my head and fuck me over." A questioning gaze landed as he came to a stop. "Right?"

It was be so easy to agree with Dean's assumption. To ignore what was said and just base the decision on the actions of the last three months. But he couldn't. Because there was a part of him that was wondering if maybe, just maybe, their former little brother was telling the truth this time.

"I don't know." Roman admitted. "I just don't know."