Waking up to a still-quiet apartment was unnerving.
Two days into Randy's departure and Roman still wasn't used to the serenity. He never thought he'd miss his buddy's witty antics and nightly guests, but being all alone was truly miserable.
At least it was Thanksgiving, and he could be with Dean again. Roman drew back the blinds in the living room. Light snow spattered from the overcast sky. Nothing too dreary. At least there wasn't half a foot of the mushy cold crap on the sidewalks, in the streets.
He wanted to dress nicely for Seth's parents, the folks of a man he barely knew. Good impressions meant a lot. He pulled on a black cardigan sweater and his slacks he wore to work, wish he'd washed free of stains and other blotches with sources unknown last night. He decided to wear his thick mane up in a ponytail, also in work-fashion.
With an hour until Seth and Dean were due to pick him up, Roman made a quick trip to Go-Mart, which was open today. He felt awful for the employees forced to work when they could have been home with family and friends. He suffered his own sense of loneliness, being hundreds of miles away from his kin, but at least he wasn't stuck at work. At least he had somewhere to go this year.
One thing he was thankful for: the kindness of Dean Ambrose and Seth Rollins.
Roman picked up a dozen rolls, a peach pie, and ingredients for a salted caramel mocha. Obviously it wouldn't taste anything like the ones he fashioned at work, but he figured Dean would appreciate the gesture anyhow.
Seth was right on time. Another point for the guy. Roman appreciated punctuality. He opened the door and gave the boys a smile warm against the frosty air.
"Hey, happy Thanksgiving," Roman said.
Dean was adorable, dressed in a black coat (finally), gloves, and a black beanie hat with the anarchy symbol stitched in white on the front. He looked like an eskimo. "You too, Ro. Ooh, what did you buy?"
Roman presented the items in his grocery bag. Dean's eyes seem to glisten at the extra-large bottle of caramel. He looked up at Roman in hunger and idolization.
"We get mochas?" he asked.
"We get mochas," Roman confirmed.
Dean pumped a fist in the air. "Yes! Best Thanksgiving ever!"
Roman loved having that effect on him. It served him right, since Dean could wear down any and all defenses with that wicked grin alone.
Seth's parents lived way further north in the Rockrimmon area, home of the wealthy. Roman already felt underdressed and he hadn't even compared his outfit to the others guests' yet. He was glad he'd made the call about the ponytail. It made him feel a bit more ornate.
"It's probably not gonna be a huge gathering," Seth explained from the driver's seat. With what little snow and very little ice was present on the road, he still operated the vehicle with caution. "Parents, brother, cousins, aunts, uncles. My family isn't huge."
"Bigger than mine," Roman pointed out. "It should be a good time either way."
"Oh, it'll be great. My family's awesome. They've gotten me out of trouble more times than I can count." Seth took an unprotected left turn with his head on a swivel. Roman could sure appreciate how attentive of a driver Seth was. Reason to be thankful #2. "You'll like 'em."
"Ooh, I love this song." Dean, not wearing a seatbelt again, leaned forward to turn the radio up. Seth swatted his shoulder, then returned both hands tightly to the wheel.
"Sit back, moron. Put your seatbelt on."
"I like this song," Dean said again.
"Then I'll turn it up. Sit back."
"Yes, Mom." Dean pressed his back to the seat and cocked his head at Roman, as if teasing Seth wordlessly. If Seth caught onto it—and he surely did—he didn't mention it.
Roman recognized the song. It was Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead or Alive", one of his favorites. Dean mouthed the words, eyes closed. Roman wished he'd just sing them. Jon Bon Jovi had nothing on Dean Ambrose.
"Can you play this song?" Roman queried.
Dean scoffed. "Can I play this song. Yes, I can. It's actually one of the first songs I ever learned to play."
"What's the first? And please don't say 'Smoke on the Water.'"
Dean unleashed that little smirk, that python tongue, and Roman hadn't been prepared for it. "Definitely not. 'Iron Man.' Black Sabbath. Sounds better on electric, though."
"My boy," Roman said, raising his hand for a high-five.
"Here we are," Seth announced, pulling his car in front of a massive house. "Home sweet home."
Roman felt timid, shuffling up the paved driveway behind Dean and Seth. Mostly behind Seth. Dean lingered a bit behind, fingers wiggling in his gloves. Roman was tempted to take hold of them. But he'd run out of time already as Seth rang the doorbell, then stepped into the house before anyone answered.
"Hey, we're here," Seth called. His voice echoed off the high walls of the mansion-like residence.
A tall and rather robust woman with a smeared apron tied around her waist took Seth in a tight hug. "Hey there, baby. How's it going?"
"Good," Seth said, voice strained in her embrace. "How are ya, Mom?"
"Tired! I love and hate this day all at the same time." Her eyes went to Dean next. From that twinkle, Roman could sense even at her age, she found Dean wonderfully attractive. He couldn't blame her. "How are you, Ambrose? You taking care of yourself?"
"Nah, of course not. That's what I've got Seth for," Dean said, swinging a foot in Seth's direction.
She chuckled, then at last regarded Roman's presence. "Hi, I'm Stephanie," she addressed him, holding out an arm. Her grip was firm even on his meaty hands.
"Nice to meet you. Roman."
"Newest member of our gang," Dean chimed. Roman couldn't believe, given his past, he'd use that sort of word in such casual conversation.
He remembered the bag in his hand. "Oh, uh, here. I brought a few things. Thank you so much for having me today."
Stephanie clicked her tongue. "Oh, honey, that's the sweetest thing. Thank you." She took the Walmart bag from him. "Well, dinner will be ready in a little while."
"Is everyone here?" Seth asked.
"Jamie and Joey aren't yet. They should be here by four."
"If they aren't, I get their plates," Dean said.
"Might have to fight Kane for them," Seth mentioned.
"Nobody gets Jamie and Joey's plates except for Jamie and Joey," Stephanie stated. "Hush up."
Roman, feeling mousy as ever, followed behind Seth and Dean who trailed Stephanie down a long corridor, through what felt like a hotel lobby and rounded left into a spacious kitchen. A very brawny gentlemen, dressed in golf shorts and a collared shirt, stirred a pot of boiling water with a wooden spoon. He craned his neck to kiss his wife on the cheek, then spotted the boys. "Hello, boys. Oh, hi there, new guy. I'm Hunter, Seth's father."
"Wow, Seth, you and your dad look way alike," Roman observed aloud. Hunter's handshake was far more painful than Stephanie's. Friendly but forceful.
"Oh, geez," Seth said, "that could mean anything from we're both studs to we're both trolls."
"You're both trolls." A hefty man towering taller than Roman—even taller than Hunter—swaggered into the kitchen. He picked a cranberry from a bowl on the counter and popped it in his mouth. Stephanie penalized him for the action with a slap on the hand.
"Roman, this is my big brother Kane."
Fortunately Kane didn't offer a handshake. Roman feared Kane would break every bone in his hand with one mild compression. "Hey there, Roman. What's a guy like you bumming around with this dweeb for?" Kane dug his knuckles into Seth's scalp, and Seth jerked away.
"Hey, back off him, man," Dean played, punching Kane's strapping arm. Kane eyed him maniacally, and Dean understood the error of his ways. He tried darting out of Kane's reach, but Kane took hold of Dean and swung him over his shoulders like a fireman making a rescue.
"No! NO!" Dean screamed, the laughter apparent in his voice. "MRS. ROLLINS! YOUR SON IS BEING AN ASSHOLE!"
"Quit being an asshole, Seth," Stephanie called.
"NO, YOUR OTHER SON!"
Kane slammed Dean onto a leather couch in the living room. Roman thought it might have hurt him, but Dean just sat upright and laughed.
"You were saying?" Kane challenged.
"Nothing, totally nothing at all," Dean said, raising two defensive hands. "Promise."
Kane arched an eyebrow, then turned away from Dean. Incredibly, Roman was jealous of how Kane was treating Dean. As Kane shuffled away, scooting past Roman, Dean flipped him off.
"How many times have you pissed in his Cheerios over the years?" Roman asked, moving to sit beside Dean on the couch.
"None. He just likes to torture me, and Seth. I'm like another brother to him. Family."
That was sweet. Seth's family accepted Dean, welcomed him with arms open wide, as generously as Seth did. "It's good to have people like that."
"Man, where the hell were you though, Superman? You could have saved me at anytime back there."
"Up against that beast?" Roman asked, jerking a thumb in Kane's general direction. "Probably not. You're on your own, bud."
"You could probably take him."
"The guy looks like he lifts busses at the gym. Big, yellow school busses."
"He's a real softy, though. Kinda like a big ol' teddy bear."
"If he's a teddy bear, I'm a Barbie doll."
Dean laughed heartily. There were many a reason Roman fell for him. That laugh was one of them, near the top of the list.
The doorbell rang again, and once more the ringers entered before anyone could open the door for them. "Hey, guys! Happy Thanksgiving!" Two men dressed in business-casual attire for whatever reason slipped down the hallway into the living room, upholding tupperware. They introduced themselves as Joey and Jamie, Seth's cousins.
"Damn, that means I don't get extra helpings," Dean said, snapping his fingers. "Oh well. Guess that means there's more room for mochas later."
Several more made appearances as the grandfather clock in the living room drew closer to four o'clock. Seth introduced Roman to his uncles Shawn and Wade, aunt Tamina, cousins Xavier and Kofi.
The air smelled delicious, a mouthwatering blend of everything Stephanie and Hunter had prepared. She'd cooked up a fresh turkey that dripped juice as she sliced into it, fashioning together thin pieces for everyone to take. She'd aligned a stack of plates, napkins, forks and knives along the bar, establishing an organized line for the others to follow.
"Ladies first," Hunter said, referring to Seth's aunt and his wife. The men waited patiently for everyone to move down the line, gathering silverware and scooping various foods onto their plates: turkey, ham, mashed potatoes, cornbread, glazed carrots, green beans, cranberry sauce, sweet potato casserole, squash soup, kernel corn. Seth, Dean and Roman found themselves towards the end of the line, but there was still plenty of food to eat. Roman tried not to take too much food, not until second and third leftovers were made an option. Kane tried helping himself to a live of Roman's peach pie early, but Stephanie swatted him again.
"She abuses me, I tell ya," Kane muttered to Roman on his way down the line. Roman laughed.
"I'll have one of your famous mochas after dinner, with dessert," Dean said to Roman, scooping a lump of potatoes onto his glass plate. "But you have to try Mama Rollins's sweet tea. It's killer."
"Truly killer?"
"You should see how much sugar she puts into one pitcher. Diabetes central."
"No wonder you like it so much," Roman teased.
Amazingly, there was enough room at the stretching oak table for everyone to sit comfortably, with enough room for arm movement without too much elbow bumping. Roman wouldn't have minded bumping elbows with Dean much. He sat next to Dean, Uncle Shawn to his left, Seth placed on Dean's right.
Hunter rubbed his hands together, then clasped them. "Allow me to say grace."
Silverware was replaced on napkins on the table. Roman placed his hands in his lap and bowed his head.
"Our Father in Heaven, we give thanks for the pleasure of gathering together for this occasion. We give thanks for this food prepared by loving hands. We give thanks for life, the freedom to enjoy it all, and all other blessings. As we partake of this food, we pray for health and strength to carry on and try to live as You would have us. This we ask in the name of Christ, our Heavenly Father."
"Amen," Seth said with the rest of the family.
"Amen," Roman spoke immediately after them.
Dean hadn't joined in the exclam.
"So, Roman," Stephanie said, stirring through a pile of green beans on her plate. "Seth tells me you're a junior in college?"
"Yes, ma'am," Roman said. He scooped a mouthful of lumpy potatoes into his mouth. They were delicious. He liked that she'd kept in the potato skins.
"What are you studying?" Hunter asked.
Was this really going to be about him? Roman felt flattered—and nervous.
"Being awesome," Dean said. A smile touched Roman's lips at their private joke.
"Health Sciences," Roman retorted.
"Which is still awesome."
"What do you plan to do with it?" Stephanie asked.
"I want to be a rehabilitation medicine specialist or a physical therapist. Whichever opportunity presents itself first."
"Oh, very interesting. Is it tough?"
"Oh, yes, ma'am. Junior year's the hardest one so far."
"It gets easier," Hunter said, waving his fork. "Senior year won't be quite the workload. But you keep at it. It's good to see you working towards a college degree. That's one of the smartest things you can do with your life."
Seth stared down at his full plate. Roman caught his frown. Had that comment hit home for him?
"But not everyone needs college to be successful in life," Stephanie said, shooting Hunter a warning look. "Success comes from hard work, no matter where you apply it."
"Or bein' stupid rich," Kofi said, snickering. "That usually helps, too."
"Not in most cases."
"What about them Kardashian girls?" his brother Xavier raised. "They pro'lly didn't go to college, and look at 'em."
"Kim isn't famous because she's rich," Wade said. "She's famous because of a sex tape."
"Okay, drop this talk," Aunt Tamina ordered. "Now."
Seth seemed relieved. He took a bite of corn without a word.
Roman took a sip of Stephanie's sweet tea. Sure enough, it was tantalizing. Dangerous for one's health if consumed too much, too quickly. But Thanksgiving was also about spoiling yourself with greatness, body and soul.
"If I could be anything in life, I'd be a musician forever," Dean said.
Surprise, surprise, Roman thought.
"Whether or not I'm successful doesn't really matter. What matters to me is doing something I love for a living. And I sure love music."
"Not a bad way to live, either," Uncle Shawn said. "Just be smart about your life choices. Don't do anything to get yourself into trouble, or anyone you know. Regrets aren't fun to live with."
Roman wondered how aware of Dean's situation this family was.
"Yeah, but you also can't let mistakes you've made hold you back from becoming who you're supposed to be." Dean paused to gulp down some sweet tea. "Life is a learning process. You learn from your mistakes. You apply that to the present to make for a better future." Dean rubbed his nose. "Fear is a useless, wasted emotion. Fear is an obstacle. Fear chokes you. Learn how to overcome fear, and you can overcome the world."
Roman had to think about Dean's words carefully. Was he right, or was this his natural overhasty behavior speaking on his behalf?
Dean had plenty to be afraid of, the Wyatt family to start. Was he bold or just stupid?
"Man, when did this turn into One Tree Hill over here?" Kofi asked. "Change of subject. Who else laughed their ass off during that shark's dance at the Super Bowl halftime show?"
"Katy Perry is so sexy," Xavier agreed.
"I raised piglets," Aunt Tamina muttered.
"Can I have pie now?" Kane asked.
"Nope," Stephanie shut him down. "Not yet."
Conversation was light for the rest of the meal. Dean didn't have much more to contribute after his disquisition. Roman admired Dean, he truly did with every fiber of his being, but Dean also managed to scare him quite a bit. This kind of heedless conduct, a head filled with overconfidence and a heart pumping undaunted assertiveness through his veins…
Dean needed to be looked after.
He was going to get himself very hurt—again—someday.
Kane was delighted at last when folks trickled into the kitchen for seconds, and desserts were officially approved for consumption. Roman made himself another small plate, then spotted Stephanie's coffeemaker on the counter near the sink. It was so clean it shined, an intricate device straight off the Enterprise.
Roman was certain he could figure out how to use it.
He asked permission first.
"Oh, knock yourself out, hon," she permitted. "Cups are in the cabinet above the coffeemaker. But be warned—you might be asked to make more if you make one cup."
"I'm used to that," Roman said, chuckling.
After playing with the beeping, whirring machine for a few minutes, he concocted three salted caramel mochas for Dean, Seth and himself. He wondered how they'd taste with his own selected ingredients. He lifted the mugs with trained, steady hands and brought them into the living room. Most of the family was here now, poking at pie slices on new plates, finishing off cups of tea and water, watching the football game on the flatscreen television. Seth and Dean were at the end of one of the long leather couches, talking with hushed voices as though arguing—but they were arguing alongside one another, not fighting each other.
Roman felt he knew what the bickering was about, but he raised no questions.
"Here you go, guys," he said, lowering the cups to their level.
"Oh, thanks, Ro." Dean handed a cup to Seth, then took one for himself.
"Nope. This one's yours," Roman said, referring to the one left in his hand. "It's got all the extra caramel."
"You know me so well."
Dean finished off his coffee before Roman's was cool enough for ingestion. Dean leaned into his arm, wordlessly watching the game with an absent mind. The room was sleepy altogether, relaxed, satisfied after a delicious meal. Roman would have offered to help clean up, but Dean was nodding off against him now, and Roman didn't want to disturb him. Fortunately Jamie and Joey were quick to offer their services.
"Hey, you looked really upset earlier over what your dad said," Roman said, voice low. "I'm sorry about that. I would have talked about something else if I'd known college was a sore subject."
"You couldn't have known. It's alright." Seth's eyes were on the TV, but his mind was elsewhere. He propped an elbow on one knee and rested his chin in his palm. "I don't go to college, not because of money or because I'm dumb or anything. I just don't know what I want to do with my life yet. And I don't want to blow my dad's, or my own, thousands of dollars while I try to get it all together, figure it all out. It's a waste of time unless you're going after something you're really, truly passionate about."
That had been Dean's point. Perhaps he'd been speaking more on Seth's behalf than his own. "What are you really, truly passionate about?"
"Cars, I guess? I don't know. Something that pisses my dad off to no end is the fact that I don't have that passion. That drive for education or a bloody degree. Right now my place is to work, keep myself alive with financial security and the strength of my friends and family. As long as nobody brings up school, we're all fine."
"I understand."
Seth's eyes fell to Dean. He chuckled without smiling. "He's a cute sleeper."
"God, I'll say." It sounded pathetic but Roman didn't care, he just didn't. Dean was enchanting in everything he did, even if he was in a bad mood. At the mention of his name, Dean shifted in his sleep. His head slumped towards Roman's lap. "Anyone gonna mind that we're sitting like this?"
"Nah. They don't care."
Roman was glad. He didn't, either. He wasn't moving.
"Hey," Kofi said, coming over and ignoring the fact Roman had a sleeping Dean on him. "We're heading over to the park to play football."
"In the snow?" Roman asked softly, making a face.
"Hell, yeah. Only better time to do it is when it's raining. You guys in?"
"No thanks," Seth said.
"You sure? You can even have me on your team. We'll stomp Uncle Wade and Xavier."
"Nah, that's alright. You guys have fun."
"Fine. Lazy-ass crackers."
The house emptied quickly after that. Apparently football in the park, no matter the weather, was a tradition for this family. Seth chose to join his parents in the kitchen, wrapping up leftovers and rinsing dishes off in the sink before depositing them in the enormous dishwasher.
Roman held Dean on the couch for an hour. Watched a football game he didn't care about. Things to be thankful for: cold nights in a warm house with the love of my life.
When Seth mentioned he had work in the morning, and Roman remembered with an inward groan he did as well, they decided together it was time to leave.
Dean stirred awake at Roman's movement and scratched his head.
"Morning," Roman said.
"Shut up." Dean laughed. "That was a pretty good nap, though. You make for a nice pillow."
"You do, too."
Stephanie thanked them all for coming.
"Thanks again for having me," Roman said, shaking both hers and Hunter's hands in spite of the pain it brought. "It meant a lot."
"It's our pleasure, honey. You come back anytime, alright?"
"Will do."
Stephanie gave her son and Dean hugs. Hunter patted Seth's shoulder and said, "Take care of yourself, son."
"You know I will."
The car ride home was quieter than Thanksgiving dinner had been. Roman didn't like it. For once, he was itching for conversation, something neither Dean nor Seth were evidently up for.
"I had a blast," Roman said. "Thanks again for inviting me."
"You say 'thanks' too much," Dean joked.
"It's Thanksgiving, silly goose. I have the right."
"I mean on a daily basis. You're way too thankful, too nice. Be a dick once in a while, for crying out loud."
"Okay. Go to hell, douche bag. Fuck you."
"There ya go." Dean chose to sit in the middle seat beside Roman again. The nap earlier hadn't sufficed his desire to be as close to Roman as Roman wanted to be to Dean.
Roman smiled at the window, watching the snow fall. It had been a pretty good Thanksgiving after all.