"Who the hell is Luke?"
Roman's question went ignored. "Come on," Seth said, grabbing Dean's arm. "We can sneak out through the back. He won't see you."
Dean jerked out of Seth's feeble hold. "He ain't gonna do shit to me here. We're in public."
"The Wyatt brothers always target you in public, moron. They don't care who sees."
"Wyatt brothers?" Roman asked, voicing his thoughts.
"Luke is Bray Wyatt's brother. One of 'em. There's too many, and we have no idea if Luke's alone or if his buddies are tagging along. I don't wanna wait around to find out." Seth grasped Dean's arm in a more secure hold this time. "Let's go, Dean."
"I'm not afraid of him, or Bray, or any of them." Dean was defiant—and drunk.
"Don't be an idiot, Ambrose."
"Don't last-name me, Seth."
Seth eyed Roman. "Did he have a lot to drink?"
Roman shrugged a shoulder. "A few. Is he a lightweight?"
"Not exactly, but he's not a logical thinker sober, let alone…"
"Right." Roman couldn't have agreed more with Seth. If the vermin known as the Wyatts were hanging around, this was not the place to be. He hated to cut his good time short. But, as little as he knew about these Wyatt brothers, he knew irrefutably Dean should not be near them.
He draped an arm over Dean's shoulder. "Hey, let's head out for a little while, okay, Dean?"
"Roman—" Dean tried, but Roman was unwilling to put up with any excuses for audacious behavior. With any amount of alcohol in his system, Dean couldn't think clearly. Roman and Seth had to think for him, show him the light even if it burned his eyes.
"You wanna go see a movie? How 'bout a movie?"
"Um…" Dean's head rolled back. "I guess so. What's playing?"
Victory. Roman followed Seth towards the back of the bar with Dean in tow.
"HEY, AMBROSE!"
Roman craned his neck. He quickly found "Luke" was a stocky man, much smaller than Bray with a very similar bristly beard, wearing a white sleeveless shirt with a disgusting circular stain of sweat on the chest, two eyes wide and dreary engaged on Dean—and, as a result of their position, Seth and Roman.
"I've been looking for you," he crooned, reeling forward. "Got a bone to pick with you."
Seth quietly urged Roman to keep going. Roman didn't want to turn his back on this creep, so he pressed forward—technically backward—in the same direction they'd been going, observing Luke attentively. At least Dean didn't seem to be resisting.
Luke wasn't going to let them get away so easily. "Your little buddies aren't gonna save you, Ambrose. After what you did to Bray, you've gotta take your punishment—"
Roman went rigid in his place as Luke drew nearer to Dean. He wouldn't get a step closer, not as long as Roman was here. "Let's get one thing straight, asshole. Dean isn't going anywhere with you, you're not doing anything to him, and if you wanna test me on that, I swear to God I'll put you down right here, right now."
Luke was confounded by the words of this stranger. He laughed wheezily. "And who, may I ask, the hell are you?"
"I'm the son of a bitch who put your buddy Bray Wyatt into a brick wall a couple of weeks ago. The same son of a bitch who'll break every bone in your body if you don't back the fuck up. Right now."
Someone touched Roman's arm from behind. He didn't know if it was Seth or Dean, but he didn't care. He wasn't standing down. He would make good on his threats if he had to.
Amazingly, Luke smiled. His teeth were disgusting and similar to those of Bray. "I like you, man. You're wild and crazy. Ever think about joining the Wyatt family?"
"He's not interested," Dean growled, stepping up beside Roman.
Luke ignored him, eyes now somehow softer and fixated on Roman. "What are you doing hanging around this trash, man? Don't you know Dean Ambrose is nothing but a rat and a bitch?"
"So he'd fit right in with you and Bray, then? Seems to be what attracts you."
Luke chuckled softly. Then he swung his fist into Roman's jaw. Someone screamed. The blow was so sudden that Roman staggered back, cradling his jaw, striving to reclaim his vision from blackness and stars.
Dean lost it. He lunged at Luke, wrapping his arms around his stained, sweaty neck and forcing a drop, dragging them both to the ground. Dean didn't have control of the situation for long. Luke managed to grab Dean's full form and flip him over, pinning his elbows to the floor with his beefy knees. He pitched blow after blow into Dean's face, seizing his shirt collar and raising his head above the floor to absorb more of the punch, more of the pain.
Seth tried to intervene, but a fighter he was not. Luke grabbed him by the throat and cast him aside like a discarded jacket. Seth tried catching himself on his feet, but the force behind Luke's throw was too strong, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Roman had recovered. He felt a black, burning fire consuming him. Luke was attacking Dean and Dean couldn't do anything about it. He readied a fist and vaulted forward like an Olympic jumper. His mighty hand collided with Luke's cheek, splitting it open upon impact, and Luke toppled over. Roman landed on two feet with grace. He grabbed hold of the stunned Luke, forcing the wobbly man to his feet, then lobbed him headfirst into the bar. Out cold.
Roman wiped his lip, tasting blood. He made sure Luke wasn't getting back up, then hurried back over to Dean.
"You okay?" Roman asked, falling to his knees.
He clearly wasn't, and he couldn't and wouldn't convince Roman otherwise. Roman helped Dean to his feet as Seth was recovering on his own.
Paige looked on in horror, manicured hand over her mouth. Roman felt Seth might have just lost his chances with her, after witnessing that incident.
Dean had trouble standing on his own. Roman didn't want to tow him—he wanted to get the hell out of here. He lifted Dean into his arms—for someone so muscly, he was surprisingly light. He overheard someone scream that the police had been called. "Good," he voiced to whoever that had been. "Make sure they lock up this asshole."
Roman carried the spiritless Dean out of the bar. It was the first time Dean had nothing to say, the first signs he showed of feeling anything less than confident, cocky, and especially impetuous. He didn't say a word until they'd returned to Seth's car. Seth roared the vehicle to life and cranked up the heat. In the backseat, Roman zipped Dean's jacket—his jacket—up to keep him as warm as possible. Dean retaliated by nestling close to Roman, his head on Roman's shoulder. Roman felt a bit of moisture from Dean's eye seep through his jacket. Was Dean crying? Trying hard not to, anyway.
Seth muttered under his breath, "Fucking bullshit." In a louder voice he stated, "I'm sorry, Roman. I thought it could be avoided, but—"
"I want to know everything," Roman said roughly. "No more beating around the bush, no more secrets, no more of any of that. Whether you two like it or not, whether I like it or not, I'm involved in this now. And I would like to know what the fuck's going on so I can know what to do about it."
Seth stole a glance at Dean, who was wordless in a response to Roman. His fingers meshed with Roman's. His body was trembling. Roman held him tight and caught Seth's watch in the rearview mirror. He wasn't going to let this go.
"Okay," Seth said. "Okay. We'll tell you everything."
In the next chapter, we finally learn about Dean's past and his connection with the Wyatt family. How does it all come together? Is Dean, or anyone he knows, ever going to be safe from their wrath? Stay tuned! Thanks for reading! As always, reviews are highly appreciated. ^-^