Seth's breathing intensified. "Shit! Fuck!" His hands jumped to his face to cover the mouth and stop the cursing. Horror appeared in his eyes. "What have I done?" he cried, as he ran toward the corpse . . . Dean. Not a corpse. Dean. He's okay; he'll be fine, Seth was persuading himself. Then he collapsed next to Dean's body.
Finally Roman could stop hiding. But the expression on his face was so different. The whole attitude . . . He came clapping. "Good job," he applauded Seth. "Nice shot," he enthusiastically added.
"Have you lost your mind? I might have killed him!"
But Roman just laughed. "With that thing?" His eyes searched for the little rock that hit Dean earlier, but he was unable to locate it. "I wouldn't worry about him," he said a bit more seriously. Then he moved on to the next step as his plan was still in progress. In his pocket he had been hiding a rope and tape which he now placed on the ground in front of him.
"What- What are you doing?"
"Well, we need to tie up his arms and feet," Roman explained as he was trying to turn Dean around to be able to realize the task more easily. He found an opposition in Seth though, who stopped him and questioned his negligence of Dean's current state.
"You can't do that."
"Look, Seth, I'd love to have a discussion to prove you wrong but there's no time. We need to do this before he comes to himself."
"We?"
"I thought you wanted to do this. Why suddenly you have a problem with being a little immoral toward Dean?" There was no eye contact on Roman's part during the time he was talking. He was busy with tying up Dean's arms behind his back. Besides, he finally – as if none of the guys noticed or paid attention to it before – picked up the gun that was the reason behind current situation. Roman for a second let go of Dean to focus on the weapon that was supposed to be used against him.
Seeing the gun again, Seth remembered what he did for Roman. "Yeah . . . and you could have at least thanked me for saving your ass," Seth angrily said to Roman.
"Hmm," Roman laughed, not reacting to Seth's comment but to the object in his hand. "I give Dean one point for authenticity. I really did not think he'd threaten me with a real gun." Roman looked genuinely amused. The smile did not disappear from his face even as he was taking out the bullets.
"Who said it wasn't loaded again?"
"I am wrong sometimes," Roman admitted. "So what?"
"Are you high or something?" Seth simply couldn't understand that Roman wasn't getting the seriousness of it. He might have got killed. Yet he was laughing.
"Seth, Seth, Seth," Roman repeated in a parental voice. "Just because someone holds a loaded gun does not mean he will shoot."
"Fortunately . . . for you," Seth added emphatically, "we'll never know what would have happened."
"Pointless, time-wasting discussion, check," Roman said. "Now let's get to work. Tie up his legs and I'll take care of this pretty yet unbelievably annoying mouth of his."
Catching the rope that Roman threw at him, Seth only for a second questioned the morality of what they were doing. But here were the facts: Dean was alive and in good enough condition to receive the punishment he deserved. That was all that mattered. Revenge had to come one day, so why not this sunny, cloudless day when they were alone and Dean was left to their mercy? It was true; there were no witnesses and nobody who could help him, not to say save him. He won't even know what got him. He won't see anything, as Roman just finished taping his eyes; he let go of the initial idea to put a bag over his head which could be seen by some – ehm, Seth – as crossing the line. And the best part is that even if Dean ever wanted to tell anybody what his soon-to-be-ex-best friends did to him, people either wouldn't believe him or they'd think it was deserved, as it really was.
So Seth quickly stopped hesitating and joined Roman's side. He helped with the legs and even adjusted the tape over Dean's mouth.
"And now? Do you want us to transfer him somewhere?" Seth asked for further instructions.
"Nah, no. I mean, it doesn't really matter, does it? He has no idea where he is. Right now he does not even have an idea that he is."
"Will we wait for him to wake up or what?" Seth checked the head injury that he caused. There was some blood but at this moment it had all dried. Something – some angel inside of Seth's mind – was still persuading him that he should just get the ambulance to take Dean to the hospital for checking the internal bleeding or something but the devil took charge of Seth and implanted an excitement for the moment when Dean wakes up. Actually – he got another idea – there was a way to bring the awakening faster. "If we removed the tape off his mouth real fast . . ." He let it sink in Roman's mind, which did not take long.
Roman smiled. "I like the way you're thinking." Having decided on the next step, Roman added, "Can I count to three now?" After Seth's eager nod, Roman initiated the countdown. "One . . ." He enjoyed the counting but, unlike Dean earlier, he had no reason to do it slowly . . . And he really just wanted to see what Dean'll do when he notices what a crappy situation he's in. "Two," he went on and took one deep breath before finishing, "Three!"
Seth removed the piece of tape that had been covering Dean's mouth until now. He accomplished his goal to be precise and hurtful. Almost a joyful shout came out of his mouth when Dean came to senses and screamed. There was a tear in Seth's eye, and he was sure there was at least one in Dean's eye as well, but due to pain not to the awesome feeling of success.
But Seth had to be careful from now on. It was time to tone down the emotions and not let a single whisper out. He didn't want to ruin it for Dean.
Roman and Seth shared a look; from that moment onwards Roman would be the one to speak while Seth's job was to keep silent. When he thought about it, it'd be better if he wouldn't even let his presence be known. There was supposedly only one guy, one enemy. If they were two, Dean could realize it was them. They couldn't risk.
After that emotional scream Dean controlled himself better. He did not speak, only investigated what was happening. He quickly realized something was blocking his view and that his arms and legs were tied up.
"I told you you were next," Roman started. His voice transformed into the one he had been using before. It worked earlier when nobody recognized it so there were good chances Dean wouldn't realize it was him this time either.
That sentence brought a memory to Dean's mind. He had a gun. Now it was gone. But he was pointing at him with it, wasn't he? "What happened?" he asked out loud.
"What happened, you ask? I got your friends and now I got you as well. I'm gonna do the same thing to you as I did to them."
"What did you do to them?" Dean's temper rose. Furiously he tried to free his limbs but he failed. Roman and Seth did good job in preventing him from escaping.
Roman wanted to laugh for effect but wasn't sure if that wouldn't be something that might unveil his true identity. "I got rid of them," he simply answered.
Illogically calmly, Dean said, "See, I don't believe you." He didn't appear scared at all. Not anymore if before, for a brief moment, he did. He saw nothing but he was able to keep his tranquility. And that was one thing Roman and Seth did not expect. What kind of shit he went through when being tied up, seeing nothing, knowing there's a guy threatening him, who's moreover in hold of his gun, doesn't upset him? Yes; maybe Dean was used to this kind of stuff. Or . . . he knew what was happening. Or . . . there was a third option which Seth realized when he noticed Dean's arms suddenly loosening after he cut the rope with a pocket knife.
Seth signaled the situation to Roman who immediately intervened. First, he took the knife away from him. Second, he moved himself so that his knees were putting pressure on Dean's hands. Third, he grabbed the gun – making sure Dean heard the sound of it being loaded – and pressed it against Dean's head. Then Roman whispered in Dean's ear, "Do you believe me now? Or do I need to fire?"