They followed him for about a minute. Then they let him escape. Deliberately. They stopped. Well, Dean did – this was too bizarre even for him – and Seth understood it that the hunt had ended.
"It'll take him a while to realize we're not running after him."
Seth welcomed the early end of the activity he wasn't particularly interested in. Besides, he did not really care about Roman at the moment. "Why are we naked?" he asked as though he just realized it. In a way, it all came to him only now.
"I don't know, dude," Dean said, looking at Seth standing next to him.
"Stop looking at me, alright?"
"There's something hypnotizing about this sight," Dean replied, clearly kidding but he seriously couldn't take his eyes off Seth in the beginning. Finally he let go of watching him. Everything seemed strange. And he felt uncomfortable. And really, really naked. "Let's go get some clothes," he suggested, and started walking in the direction where he thought the car was parked.
"Let's get something to eat too."
"Oh, yeah," Dean said dreamingly. That was another sudden realization that came to him just now. He was terribly hungry.
"Couldn't we just go home?" asked Seth. Hungry, dirty, exhausted, going home seemed the best thing to do.
"One more night."
Seth did not understand. "You still want to stick to the plan?"
"Sure. The weather is good."
Seth sighed. He didn't care that much anyway. Crucial need was food and clothes. Probably in that order. Or . . . well, he wanted both, preferably right now.
"When was the last time we've eaten?" wondered Seth.
"Look, talking about food won't make it any better."
"You're right; it's making me hungrier. When I imagine a nice, thick steak . . ." He drooled.
"Stop it."
Seth shook his head to get rid of the images that his brain kept coming up with. But then realized, "I don't have any other conversational topic in mind."
"We don't need to talk."
"So we'll just walk in silence? Just two dudes walking side by side, naked?" Seth asked.
"No homo," Dean added which brought Seth's eyes on him.
Seth asked, he had to, "Should we talk about . . . you know, what happened?"
"Oh, please, let's not."
"Like . . . never?"
"Yes!" Dean shouted. "Never!" He calmed down a bit – not that he was angry or anything; it just brought back things to his mind that he wanted to forget about, and made him emotional. "These are not memories I want to keep," he explained to Seth who felt the same way.
"I'm sorry I took the picture of you and Roman –"
"No need to specify," Dean interrupted, "When you say picture it's enough, I know what you're talking about. Not like I'll be able to forget about that anytime soon. . . ."
"Yeah, anyway, I'll delete it . . . just. . . ." He was about to put his hands in the pockets of his pants when he realized he wasn't wearing any. "Where's my phone?"
Dean looked – of course he did – but the sight disgusted him immediately. "Clearly not on you," he commented while regrets of even looking filled his mind.
Seth stopped and looked behind his shoulder. "I probably left it there. I need to go back."
"Argh." Dean wasn't pleased. He just wanted to get to the car as fast as possible.
"What if somebody finds it?" Seth argued.
"Right, because this place is crowded."
"I can't just leave it there!"
"Yes, you can . . . for now. Look, we'll have to return there afterwards anyway. I think it can wait till then. . . . Or, you know, go back there and I'll just continue." There were several options; Dean's accompanying of Seth was not one.
"I guess you're right, we'll have to go clean it later. Geez, do you realize we spend half of the time producing the mess, then the rest cleaning it?"
"We can leave it there." Dean smiled. He got a crazy idea. "Wouldn't it be cool if it all stayed untouched and then in a couple of years they turned it into a museum?"
Seth's reaction was silence followed with sarcastic laughter. "Yeah, like and this is the place where Dean Ambrose sucked Roman Reigns's dick. . . .," Seth said in a serious, educational voice of a museum guide.
Dean awarded Seth's creativity with a bitter look, but he got what he asked for.
Seth continued, "Oh, and the sign at the entrance would say 'Ever wondered what professional wrestlers did on their days off?'"
"You're laughing now but you won't be when I include this information in my speech at your funeral."
"What makes you think I'll die first?"
"Guess," Dean said, and let him think about it for a second.
They spent the rest of the journey in silence. Fortunately, Dean's sense of orientation got them to the car quickly and without getting lost.
Dean stopped and exclaimed, "Shit." He sighed.
"What?"
"We don't have the key."
"Shit."
"Can you break the window?"
Seth looked at Dean in surprise. "Why me?"
"You're stronger," Dean complimented him just to make him do it. It did not work. Initially. Then Seth realized his desire to put some clothes on was greater than his natural instinct to oppose Dean and fight with him for every stupid reason. He moved to the window to try to break it with his elbow.
Dean looked behind. He wondered if he should tell Seth that they could take a pole from their tent standing nearby and use it to break into the car. He looked at Seth. Nah, he looks like he knows what he's doing, Dean thought and stayed quiet.
He didn't. All Seth knew was that this wouldn't work. "There's got to be a way," he mumbled.
"Hmm."
"What?" asked Seth, hoping Dean had a better plan.
"The trunk is open."
"Yes!"
"That's weird. I'm sure I closed it."
"Well, don't close it now," Seth shouted because he suspected Dean might be stupid enough to do that.
Now they had access to the most important things: clothes and food.
They did not postpone putting it to good use.
While Seth aimed for the clothes first Dean found himself unable to resist the mini travel fridge.
Seth looked at Dean. "Would you mind putting something on?"
Dean, chewing a bite of sandwich, glanced at Seth and replied, "You undress me and now you mind I'm naked?"
"Yes."
Dean shook his head. "Sorry for having different priorities, mister I-don't-eat-next-to-a-naked-guy." Subsequently, Dean put down the sandwich and took out pants and a shirt that he wouldn't swear belonged to him. Then he returned to satisfying his hunger.
"Don't you feel bad for Roman?" Seth asked after a while.
"Who? Oh, yeah, no. You want a beer?"
Seth looked ahead, reflecting. "I want to get drunk. I can't. I want to forget about everything. I can't –"
"Look, dude, the beer is all I'm offering. Take it or leave it."
Dean was about to put it back inside when Seth grabbed it, "Give it to me."
"Besides, you have nothing to complain about. This trip has been a bed of roses for you. If I were keeping score –"
"You are keeping score. . . ."
"Well, when it comes to embarrassment, loss of dignity, and uncomfortable situations, without a doubt, I win."
"That's not what I'd call a victory," Seth objected.
"It may be a Pyrrhic victory but it still counts."
Seth grinned. He gave Dean that one. "Well, I guess that's one way to look at it." Surely, it was the only way Dean was able to keep smile on his face. Either that or he believed he could still turn it around. That one, though, seemed very unlikely.