"Dean," Roman said, his voice dangerously calm, "do you care to explain the meaning of this?"

Dean took the phone from Roman and read through the words yet again.

Dean: I'm sick of this trio bullshit. I can't wait to be alone.
Hunter: When are you leaving?
Dean: Soon.

"I… I never… I don't understand," he stammered.

Roman stood up, stomped over to Dean, and grabbed the phone from his hands. "You were sick of this trio bullshit, were you?" he growled, holding the phone in front of Dean's face. "All this time you acted all innocent, letting me believe that Seth's betrayal came out of nowhere, when actually you were planning the same damn thing. You acted so hurt, too. Yeah, it must've really hurt that he beat you to it." He shoved the phone hard into Dean's chest.

"I didn't write those texts!" Dean said urgently, his eyes moving pleadingly back and forth between Roman and Seth. "You have to believe me!"

Seth watched the unfolding scene uneasily. This was not how this was supposed to go. He had already found out that he had been wrong about Roman. Was it possible that he had been wrong about Dean as well? His stomach clenched painfully at the thought.

"Roman," Seth said, his voice raspy. "Wait. Back off a minute, will ya?"

Roman frowned but stepped away from Dean nonetheless. He looked expectantly at Seth.

"Dean?" Seth asked timidly. "You're telling us the truth? Those texts weren't yours?"

"No! I was never planning on leaving the Shield," Dean answered fervently. "I mean, I know I said some dumb shit when we were fighting, but I never really meant any of it. You guys are my brothers."

Seth's breath caught at Dean's use of the present tense when describing him as a brother, but Roman remained unconvinced.

"So what happened, then?" Roman asked. "Did those texts just magically appear on your phone?"

"I don't know. Maybe someone took my phone and planted the messages on it."

"But what would be the point of that?" Roman asked, finally sitting back down.

"Well, the Authority was trying to recruit Seth. Maybe they wanted to strengthen their case?" Dean answered.

"And they were just hoping that he would happen to find it?" Roman asked skeptically.

"They could have been planning to tell him about it later," Dean suggested.

"No, that doesn't make sense," Seth said, thinking hard. "Those texts were sent that morning and your phone was in the hotel room with me and you that whole time. No one else had access to it."

"You had access to it," Roman said, looking at Seth accusingly. "How do I know that this isn't some big scheme to drive a wedge between me and Dean?"

"Yeah," Dean agreed thoughtfully. "That is true."

"How does that even make sense?" Seth said, his dread morphing into anger. "I've been working for weeks now to gain your trust back. You think I did all that just so I could split you up now?" He stood and began pacing around the room. "And besides, for that to work, I would've had to have that plan in place already way back then. So what are you thinking, then? That I planted those texts, let them sit for months, and am just now deciding to use them? What kind of plan is that? If I really wanted to drive a wedge between you two, I'm sure I could figure out something better than that convoluted bullshit!"

"I guess you have a point," Roman conceded.

"I don't know," Dean said. "I'm pretty sure that evil geniuses' plans are supposed to be convoluted. Think a little harder, Seth. I'm sure you could make it make sense if you just worked hard enough at it."

Seth's fingers itched. He wished he had something handy to throw at Dean. But the corners of his mouth twitched upward anyway.

"So, what did happen then?" Roman asked with a frustrated sigh.

"Uhh, I don't know. I know that I didn't do it. Dean says that he didn't do it. Nobody else had access to the phone. That leaves what? Sleep-texting?" Seth guessed.

"Or someone is lying," Roman stated bluntly.

Seth cleared his throat uncomfortably. Dean glared at Roman.

"Dean," Seth finally said, after several awkward seconds, "were there any other texts on that thread?"

"Um, I'm not sure," Dean answered, breaking his eye contact with Roman and picking up his phone. He scrolled through the texts. Suddenly his eyes widened in understanding. "Ohhh," he said, "these texts were to Hunter."

"We knew that already," Roman said irritably.

"Not that Hunter. Not Triple H. Hunter Johnston." Dean looked at Seth. "You know him, right?"

Seth felt sick as he nodded. This doesn't add up, he thought miserably. I must've been wrong about Dean. He shook his head, trying to focus. "Hunter Johnston? Yeah, I know him," he forced out.

Dean continued, oblivious to Seth's discomfort. "We both worked the indies back in the day. We were never really in the same place at the same time, so I don't know him very well, but we have some friends in common. A friend of a friend put him in touch with me. Apparently, he was going to be driving through Vegas and was looking for a place to crash. That's why we were texting. It never worked out, though. God, I totally forgot about all that."

"That's all well and good, but it doesn't change the fact that you told him that you were sick of us, now does it?" Roman replied stubbornly.

"Give me a minute. I'm still trying to figure that part out," Dean snapped. "It doesn't make sense. I don't remember typing that. I loved being a part of the Shield. I mean, of course I wanted to get off by myself sometimes, but you two were like the family I never had." Dean stared at the phone, mumbling under his breath, as if trying to will himself to remember the context of the message.

"O is next to P," Seth suddenly whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

"What?" Dean asked.

"O is next to P," Seth repeated, louder this time.

When Roman and Dean just looked at him in confusion, Seth continued, his voice cracking, "On the keyboard, O is next to P. I bet you weren't typing trio; you were typing trip. You were sick of this trip bullshit."

"Ohhh, you're right," Dean agreed happily. "I remember now. I was so sick of traveling. I just wanted to be home, by myself, and not have to drive or fly anywhere else."

"And when Hunter asked when you were leaving—" Roman started.

"He literally meant when was I leaving. Like when was I leaving Rosemont to head to Indianapolis," Dean finished.

Dean smiled exuberantly, happy to finally have an explanation. Roman returned his smile, but Seth just looked gray.

"Dude, you don't look so good," Dean commented.

"Excuse me," Seth said weakly, and he bolted out of the room.