Ten minutes ago Dean lost sight of Seth. Not that he meant to do anything about it. Nor either of them cared. Seth enjoyed thinking that Dean couldn't keep up with his pace and Dean couldn't appear to have made peace with Seth's leadership.

The silence, though, made Seth wonder. Was Dean even following him? Or did he give up a while ago? Seth slowed down to give Dean a chance to get to him. But in a minute he was absolutely motionless, waiting.

"Dean?" Seth asked, turning around, trying to catch a glimpse of his co-runner.

"Follow the buzzards," was the answer that Seth didn't ask for but got.

"Dean?" Seth called again, more urgently this time.

"Follow the buzzards!" shouted an unknown voice. No, that wasn't Dean. But if Dean was anywhere around Seth, he had to hear it too.

"Who's there?" asked Seth. His voice trembled a bit. The trees all around him made it incredibly difficult for him to see anything. Anything other than the branches, leaves, grass, the essence of the forest. He couldn't see any person; yet he knew there had to be at least two.

"Dean," Seth shouted, as loud as he could. He needed some assistance. And he'd prefer a company in this situation. What the hell was going on?

"You're next," the strange, scary voice announced and Seth knew the words were directed at him.

Seth looked around one more time but the vision hadn't changed. He was alone in there. Instinctively he looked up at the skies. It offered him a sensation of freedom; it made him forget about the feeling of oppression and being surrounded. But that lasted only for a brief moment. The second his eyes refused obedience and looked ahead again, the discomfort, and even fear, returned.

"We're done?" asked Dean, coming from behind some trees, breathing heavily. He stopped running – or more like pretending to be running – and stood in front of confused Seth.

"You heard it?" Seth asked, referring to the experience he just went through.

"Heard what?"

"Was it you saying that?" That seemed a real possibility.

"Saying what?"

Seth angrily and desperately sighed. It was impossible to have a normal conversation with this guy.

"Follow the buzzards," explained Seth. He still hoped to solve the mystery and he'd appreciate if Dean cooperated.

"I will not," answered Dean, not quite serious.

"Dean!"

"What?" he asked as if he did nothing wrong.

"Alright." Seth breathed in and faked a smile. "A moment ago there was somebody saying 'follow the buzzards.' Was that you?"

"No. That was you."

"God!"

Dean answered, holding back the laughter, "I really don't think that was him."

"You . . . argh," Seth shouted. "I could so punch in the face right now."

"Alright. Calm down, Seth. Chill, please."

"We might be in danger."

"Oh, oh, right. 'Cause, yeah . . . we're being followed or something. Oh, hey, look," Dean started whispering, "somebody's watching you." Then he shouted, "Roman? You can stop hiding."

"You really think it's him?" Seth asked, having his doubts.

"Of course it's him. Unless you invited the Wyatts."

Dean kept his smile on, but Seth's face expression was far from relaxed.

"Nobody ever invites the Wyatts."

"And that's a pity," Dean replied.

Seth, clearly not satisfied with the direction of the conversation, looked away. Maybe he still hoped to spot the person making fun of them. Or whatever their goal was.

"What if something happened to Roman?" Seth was wondering.

"I'm sure something happened to him; he went crazy. He thinks he can freak us out. Like," now he spoke sarcastically, impersonating somebody identifiable to Seth – but probably nobody in particular, "oh, look at me, I know those two better than anybody else and I'll make them shit their pants. Yeah . . . guess what, Ro?" Dean shouted to make sure Roman'd hear him, "You're not! Poor try," he said and ended in laughter.

Seth just shook his head, worried look on his face. "You wouldn't believe you're in real danger even if somebody was pointing with a gun at your head."

"I'm not a coward, Seth. I'm not scared of anything. And definitely not this pathetic try to escape my boot camp."

Honestly, Seth was left speechless. Not that he was falling for the trick . . . well, maybe . . . He actually didn't know what to think. Was it real or was it an act? He'd swear, though, that the voice did not belong to Roman. Sure, they planned a revenge on Dean but that did not mean this was it. Maybe Roman had an idea in mind but something could have gone wrong and prevented him from realizing it. And – now Seth's brain was working full-time – there was a chance that somebody was in the forest with them. It probably wasn't the Wyatt Family, but how about some freaks? With the world full of people with low intellect, somebody might have fallen for the words of Bray Wyatt and followed the buzzards – or whatever it was they believed they were doing. Maybe they believed they were realizing Bray's will, or getting rid of the enemies. Anyhow, now this maniac might be chasing the former opponents of the Wyatt Family for reasons even he doesn't know. And if that's true, they really could be in danger. The words "you're next" returned to Seth's mind. He or they already got Roman, now they were targeting him.

"You're still thinking about it," noticed Dean. Instantly he smiled. "You're not gonna make me disband this. Just because I lost Roman. Losses are allowed," Dean said emphatically.

But Seth wouldn't let it go. Suddenly he realized, "What if . . . what if what's happening now has something to do with that incident from a year ago?"

"What incident?"

"You know, the one after Raw or some other event when there were problems in our rooms with electricity and all of that."

"Hmm," Dean seemed to be giving it more importance now. But that impression quickly disappeared. "No, I'm sure that was a joke too."

"You may not notice this in the little, weird world you're living in, but there actually are people that hate us."

"What are you talking about? We're lovable," Dean joked.

"There are people who think wrestling is real."

"And there are people who think it's fake. Well, I guess, none of them are right."

Seth smiled, although only for effect, "Some fans take it seriously. Too seriously. If not before, I've learned that when I turned heel. I know I've made enemies. And I'm pretty sure we as a group have made a few too. Moreover, honestly, you think nobody knows that we're here? That nobody could stalk us to this place? And this is a quite secluded place; it wouldn't be too difficult to deal with us here."

"Deal with us?" Dean repeated, laughing. "Who in the world would want to start a fight with us?"

"Who said anything about fighting? You don't see what they're doing? Separating us. You know, divide and conquer."

"Oh, Seth, my dear little Sethie." Seth frowned at that nickname. "Haven't you learned anything? Separation doesn't make us any weaker. We're just as strong on our own as we're together. It's just that it's more comfortable not having to deal with the things alone."

"So what now? You have a plan?"

"Why would I need plan?"

"Because we need to find Roman," Seth reminded him. He had this feeling that Dean kept forgetting about the third participant of their getaway.

"We don't need to find him. Besides, you always find things when you're not looking for them."

"So you suggest waiting?"

That voice from before interrupted their conversation. "Follow the buzzards," it said again.

Dean seemed to have welcomed its return, though. It brought an idea to his mind and a smile to his face. "Why wait?" he asked quickly and then ran after the sound.