This is it, guys. The big climax. Suspense. Drama. Anxiety. Adventure time!

Disclaimer: I wanted to write this as realistically as possible, but I'm also counting on my readers to rely on suspension of disbelief for a while, and just enjoy the story in case I got anything wrong about anatomy or the human body's realistic withstandings against Mother Nature... I can't say I have experience with anything that you're about to ready about, so bear with me and my limited research. ;) Enjoy!

Dean's leather jacket. It fit. Wasn't too bulky. Wouldn't slow him down.

Nineteen miles. Forty minutes. Slick roads.

Seth.

That was what Roman had. All he had.

"Been a while since I brought this baby out to play," Seth said. The pallid moonlight soaking through the windshield gave Roman enough light to see Seth carefully adjusting a handgun in a holster on his jeans, hidden under his hoodie.

"You have a gun?" Roman asked.

"Of course. I don't show it off much. You know what Dean would do if he ever found it?"

"Probably something really stupid."

"I used to go shooting with my dad all the time. He taught me all about gun safety and how to handle them and aiming techniques and whatnot. So don't worry. I know what I'm doing."

"I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about what you might have to do. You ever shot anyone before?"

"Nope. Just paper targets. I'm hoping it won't come to that. Maybe Abigail will wuss out once she realizes it's her life on the line."

"And if it does come to that?"

"Like you've been saying, Ro. I'll deliver."

Roman wasn't sure. He couldn't see Seth killing anybody. He couldn't see himself killing anyone. But if worse came to worst, there wouldn't be a choice. Dean's life would be protected at all costs.

The drive was stiff with quietude. Roman didn't touch the radio. Nothing would help.

Words played over in his head instead.

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"I trust you."

Keep trusting me, Dean. I'm coming for you.

Roman hadn't called the police yet. He would, or Seth would. He had a plan. In the black of night, especially at these falls where the city was distant and any source of light could be seen within a two-mile radius, Roman didn't want Abigail to see or hear any police cars coming for her. She still had Dean. She could do anything to him. She hadn't instructed Roman to come alone, but it was a message he'd read between the lines of her taunting and that creepy smiley face. He had to conserve Dean's protection.

She didn't need to know about Seth. If she didn't already.

Roman veered his car down a rocky road. They were closed in on both sides by high rock walls. Gravel shredded underneath the tires. Seth stared forward, watching dust lift past the windshield. Roman's fingers were white, gripping the steering wheel. His hand was cramping from how tight the hold was.

The rocky path opened to a smoother road. Signs indicated legal parking times up ahead. The falls were gushing in the dead of winter's night.

Why here? Of all the places to hold him?

There was no way she couldn't hear the car's engine. They were alone.

Roman shut the car off. It didn't take long for the air to chill inside.

"See 'em?" Roman asked. It was too dark to see a damn thing.

"No. Bet my next paycheck she's up there, though." Seth indicated the steep hiking trial that wound and weaved to the top of the waterfall. The peak was invisible from here. "She wants us to work for it."

"Fine." Roman pushed the car door open. "I'm going up to look around. If she's up there…that's where it's all going down, I guess."

"I'll linger for a bit. Call the cops. Sneak up on the other side. Stay in the shadows."

"Good plan." Roman made the mistake of touching the top of the car door. It nearly froze to his skin. He drew his hand away.

"Ro."

"Yeah?"

Seth stared at him, hazel eyes overcast with concern. "Be careful. Please."

"I will be. You too."

"Go get Dean."

"We both will."

Roman pressed the car door closed. The nippy air tore at his cheeks, his hands, seeping through his hair and caressing his neck. He was too pissed off to even feel it.

The hiking trail consisted mostly of brick steps spread far apart so Roman had to lengthen his strides and practically spring from one to the next to the next. Colorado's dry air and high altitude made it difficult for even natives to breathe sometimes, and this strenuous climb singed his throat and set his lungs on fire against the cold. Good thing Roman was in shape, or he might have collapsed halfway up. He didn't take his time. He pushed himself up the mountain. Everything hurt from his head to his feet and every muscle between them.

He didn't care. Couldn't afford to fall victim to his own debility.

The falls were loud, dampening the air. Wind crept through the trees. The steep trail suddenly flattened out. Roman jogged a little ways more, then stopped. He saw something up ahead on the path. Someone.

A girl with choppy hair dressed comfortably for the weather. Coat, mittens, beanie hat. She would have looked normal to anyone else.

Stopping his run helped Roman remember how tired he was. How badly he hurt. His lungs pulled each breath of air in deep, loud.

"Hello, Roman."

Her voice. So…normal. Yet Roman knew what she was capable of. He'd witnessed it.

"Where is he, Abigail?"

She smiled in the night. "Camping! We've had a fun little trip tonight. We went on a hike, rock climbing, swimming…" The word was so menacing that it made Roman cringe, just the way she said it. "In a little while, we're going white water rafting. But oh, shoot," she said, swaying her body, "Braun forgot to rent rafts. Oh well. We can make do with what we have."

Roman shook his head. "You're even further off your rocker than your brothers were."

That did the trick. Abigail's smile sank to a scowl. "Don't you dare speak ill of the dead. It's all because of you, Roman. You and your dear, sweet little Ambrose. It's all your fault."

"They tried to kill us. We fought back. It's human nature."

Abigail tisked her tongue like a disapproving grandmother. How could someone look so normal, act so normal, yet come across as so twisted and demented? "My brothers were my role models growing up. They taught me everything I know in life. About fairness. About justice. About responsibility. About crime…and punishment."

God, did Roman hate that word across the lips of a Wyatt.

"You and Dean were very, very naughty. And now, because of your crime, there must be punishment. How's that for human nature?"

Roman grabbed her by the shoulders, squeezing her arms through her thick furry coat. "Where is he?" he snarled.

"Be careful, Roman," she sang. "Braun is watching us. And he's very protective of me. Especially now that we've seen what a threat you are to our family." She craned her neck, looking ahead on the path.

The trail carried on to a sturdy bridge. Roman blinked, eyesight adjusting to the darkness. There was a small tent on the bridge. Standing outside it was someone who hadn't been there before. A Herculean man. Abigail's associate, perhaps another brother, now that Roman thought about it. Easy to recognize. He was no longer wearing the sheep mask. Braun was his name? Appropriate.

Braun turned and jerked the flapping tent door open. His dunked his thickset arms into the tent and hauled Dean out of it. Dean's legs swung as they tried to make contact with the ground, but Braun dropped him to his knees instead. His hands were still bound, his mouth gagged by thick rope.

There was nothing, not one thing in the world—not the frost on his blueing skin or the fire in his lungs or the throb in his muscles—that hurt more than seeing Dean right there. More helpless than the guy had probably ever been in his life.

But at least, at least, they'd stashed him away in a tent. Maybe it wasn't heated inside, maybe they hadn't thrown a blanket atop him while waiting for Roman, but anything was better than bare exposure to these frigid temperatures.

Dean's head joggled, from slumping towards the ground as his body absorbed the pain of the drop to lifting up to meet gazes with Roman. He looked relieved and somehow even sadder, all at once. Delighted to see Roman. Downcast that the situation wasn't over yet.

Roman made a break for it. He shoved past Abigail and charged towards Dean and Braun. Braun responded by lifting Dean once more with a hand around his throat.

"HEY!" Roman screamed.

Braun scooped Dean over the bridge's wooden railing and suspended him there. Roman lurched to a stop. Beneath a dangling Dean was not the waterfall or even the river, but a serrated crag which jutted out over the falls. Nature's way of protecting anyone who fell off the bridge. It was a ten-foot drop, Roman guessed. The gush of the waterfall cascaded under the bridge, under the great rock, with a roar. It was not a huge waterfall, and the flow was not the strongest, but it was dangerous enough. Roman couldn't imagine how cold that water was. He didn't want to find out.

And he didn't want Dean to learn.

"Wait," Roman said. His voice was grating. He lifted both hands, red and numb, towards Braun. Dean hacked against the force on his throat, against the gag. "Just wait. Please. Please."

"You certainly didn't hear my brothers begging for their lives." She was loud, suddenly behind him, and it startled him. "Then again, they did have much more dignity than you have, Roman. But keep saying it. I like it."

But Roman didn't want to address Abigail nor Braun. He looked at Dean instead. It wouldn't be long now before help arrived. It couldn't. He just had to stall. He had to protect Dean. That was his mission. It always had been, it always would be.

"It's gonna be okay, Dean," Roman said, trying to raise his voice to communicate the sincerity of his words. "You know that, right?"

It was hard for Dean to nod, but he managed. He couldn't speak. Not with that rope in his mouth. Only whimper. Braun slowly lowered him further down, closer to the crag.

"There's a reason you call me Superman," Roman said. "And he's not gonna let you down."

"Oh, give me a break, Reigns," Abigail said. "Enough with the schmaltz. It's nauseating."

"Dean," Roman said, ignoring her. "Do you trust me?"

Dean attempted another nod. He was scared. It was clear.

Abigail must have given some signal behind Roman's back, because Braun nodded, looking her way, then released Dean.

"No!" Roman shouted.

The thump of his body smacking against the rock was nearly muffled by the flow of the falls; however, no gag nor the crash of the water could mute Dean's screams. Roman was losing his mind, coming apart at the seams. Logic lost, he charged onto the bridge. Braun was quick to seize him by the arms. Roman caught a glimpse of Dean beneath them, positioned on his right side, arm crushed beneath him. His face was mangled with pain. His cries were carrying, destructive. Roman's own arm hurt, sympathy pain, compassionate to his angel's misery.

Instead of plunging onto the crag from the bridge, Abigail carefully traipsed onto it from the steep hill beside it. Roman prayed for her to lose her balance and tumble into the icy waters, but she took caution with each step. She treaded onto the rock and used her boot to shift Dean from his side to his back. Dean could look up at Roman from here. Helpless. Nearly hopeless. How to believe Roman now when he said everything would be alright? Even Roman was having trouble believing it.

Roman writhed in Braun's hold. Any time now, Seth.

Abigail glanced up at Roman and just smiled. It reminded him of her sinister smiley faces. She pushed against Dean's body with her boot again, rolling him closer and closer to the crag's narrow, jagged edge.

"NO!" Roman screamed. Braun held his figure firm, otherwise he would have been flailing. "ABIGAIL, DON'T! I SWEAR TO GOD!"

"Ah, there it is!" Abigail cried. "That's what I wanted to hear. But change your tone, Roman. It sounds like you're threatening me now."

Roman caved to her insufferable request. "Please, don't! Don't do this! Please! PLEASE!"

"Music to my ears!" she howled like a wolf.

"MY TURN TO INSIST!" a different voice bellowed.

Seth. Roman had never felt more relieved in his life.

He stepped onto the bridge from the other side, gun raised in the air, pointed at Braun with a steady hold. A trained grip.

"Rollins!" she cried out in true surprise. Finally, an advantage, Roman thought.

"You let them go, Abigail," Seth ordered. "You let them go!"

Abigail looked bemused. She pinned Dean to the rock with her boot on his chest. "Ambrose is six inches away from taking a dive, and Braun up there can break Roman's neck like it's a toothpick in less than a second. Let's see who's faster, Seth—you, or us."

Seth was not about to pick between Dean and Roman. He looked from Abigail and Dean to Braun and Roman, and back again, and back once more. He was getting nervous, flustered, cold. That couldn't happen.

They all get out of this.

Roman had to help.

Seth had to shoot Abigail. Defend Dean. Which meant Braun couldn't be a threat.

Roman had to eliminate the threat.

At the very least, divert it.

But how?

Now that he was calmer, he could execute some form of an escape plan.

His legs were still free.

That was it.

And it would all happen quickly, so quickly.

Roman thrust his leg backwards and up, going for Braun's groin. Whether he hit it directly or not, he wasn't sure, but Braun's grip loosened enough for Roman to tear free. He whirled around and swung his fist up into Braun's jaw. It had very little, yet some, impact on the giant.

Abigail gave Dean one last shove with her foot. His bound body plunged over the crag's edge. His screams disappeared with him.

"DEAN!" Roman wailed.

Seth fired the gun. Abigail's body buckled, collapsing on the rock.

Roman cast himself over the bridge's railing.

Braun moved to retrieve him. Seth fired the gun again, twice this time.

Roman leaped over Abigail's fallen, bleeding body and, without giving it a second thought, willingly jumped off the crag after Dean...

The weight of the water sent him down, down, down, faster than gravity hauled him. He was blind for several seconds, couldn't see, couldn't think, couldn't feel much. The water was so cold that it burned him alive. For a moment he had no idea where he was, what he was doing, or even his own identity…falling sent him into a moment of absolute tranquility.

The peace stemming from delirium, of course.

No sane person would jump off a rock into a waterfall.

No person in love was a hundred percent sane.

But this? Roman was absolutely mad. Madder than Dean, madder than Bray Wyatt, madder than Abigail.

It was in the fall that he couldn't even care. He'd lost the ability to care or comprehend, or even exist, it felt.

Not until Roman slapped against the pool following the deep drop. A slap back into reality. A woozy reminder that he was here with a purpose.

One purpose. One man.

Dean.

Roman tried opening his eyes. They stung like mad. He visualized them as red. He couldn't see a thing, not one thing. His body was frigid. His heart rate was dropping, dropping fast, faster than he'd plummeted from the rock. Focus, something told him. You're alive and you have work to do.

Dean's hands had been bound.

Swimming would have been impossible.

If he was alive.

Air, the something told him next. You need air.

Where was air?

Up. Go up. Move up. Press up.

Roman kicked. Water slowed his motion. He felt the pressure around him lower more and more until finally he broke the surface. Another slap as he gasped, swallowing precious air. Yep, you're alive. You sure are. Now move. Hurry.

Roman blinked. His eyes hurt, but at least his vision was back. Somewhat. All around him was water and rocks. He hadn't hit any of them. The pool under the crashing falls had preserved him. The fall wasn't fatally strong or the force might have crushed him to death, if drowning or hypothermia didn't take care of that.

A million and one things could have killed you, and you're still alive. It's for a reason. Dean. Dean needs you. He needs you, Roman, so find him, dammit!

"Dean!" Roman tried. He coughed up water instead. The name went unsaid. He spurted and gagged. He couldn't feel his arms. He went through the motions of swimming, remembering how to use his muscles in spite of the numbness. "DEAN!" he tried again. He could hear himself. But it did no good.

Roman twirled around like a ballerina underwater. He could see blue and red lights igniting the night. Thank God.

But Dean. Dean…oh, God, Dean, where are you?

Something bobbed up ahead in the distance, further from the waterfall, not quite close enough to make it so shore by bouncing alone.

Was that him?

Roman swam for it. His intake of air was desperate, determined. The water got shallower the closer he got to the figure, the shore. Soon his toes could touch the bottom of the pool. He pushed himself on and on. It hurt. Everything hurt. This was miserable.

Almost over. Whatever this "something" was speaking to him, it sure was optimistic. Didn't sound like his voice, and he did consider himself to be positive. Just not this positive.

The figure sank underwater. Roman could nearly run, as fast as a man could "run" in deep waters, anyway.

It made him move even faster. Otherworldly strength, adrenaline, bewitched him. He couldn't even feel the cold anymore. Was reality drifting away? Was he dying?

It seemed brighter out here somehow.

Perhaps so.

Roman reached the area he'd first seen the figure. He took a breath and cast his head underwater on the search.

Dean was beneath him. Not thrashing. Not moving at all, not on his own. Water pushed him further away. Roman followed at greater speeds.

He reached for Dean. Almost…there…

His fingers wrapped around the very edge of Dean's shirt. Almost…!

Roman gave the shirt a tug. Dean floated closer to him. Roman closed his arms around Dean and resurfaced, both faces above the water. Roman gasped in another delicious, cold breath.

His lungs were nearly frozen. Get out of the water, Roman. Humans might be able to last for ten to twenty minutes in this shit, but you need to get out.

He'd learned that information in a health course. Strange it was coming to him now.

Roman trudged with Dean towards the shore. The water receded to his chest, to his stomach, to his knees, to his feet…he was out. They were out of the water.

He collapsed with Dean on the damp, rocky shore. He was weary. He didn't want to move.

It wasn't long before they were surrounded by men in uniforms. Roman was pulled away from Dean. "N-n-o, n-no," he tried to protest. Don't take him away from me. His muscles weren't working so well. His voice box was failing. He jerked like he was seizing. He felt a big towel, or maybe it was a blanket, drape around him. Two people escorted him on either side of him towards the flashing lights.

"D-D-D-D-Dean," he stammered.

"It's alright," a deep voice assured him. This time it was outward, not from within. "Come on. We're going to take care of you. Do you know your name?"

"D-D-D-D-Dean?"

"That's your name? Dean? What's your last name?"

"N-n-n-n-n-o-o-o, I-I-I-I'm-m-m R-R-R-R-o-o-o-o-o-m-m-m-a-a-a-n-n-n-n."

"Roman?"

"W-w-w-w-where's-s-s-s D-D-D-D-D-Dean?"

"Dean must be the other one," a different voice stated.

"He's alright," the first voice replied him. "They found a pulse on him. Weak, but it's there. Your name is Roman?"

They sat him down on the edge of an ambulance. Someone delivered another blanket. The two paramedics squatted in front of him. His sight had returned in full. His brain was still thawing out. Logic was coming back to him, critiquing him for what he'd done. Did you really have to jump, Roman?

Yep, he chastised it right back. Saved Dean that way.

"What's your last name, Roman?"

"R-R-R-R-R-R-eign-n-n-n-s-s-s-s."

"Reigns? Like, in the summer, it rains?"

"W-w-w-why?" His shivering was dwindling now that these blankets were on him. Didn't stop the pain. Just the shaking. Some of it.

"I just want to make sure you're not confused."

"I-I-I p-p-r-r-r-obab-b-b-l-l-l-y have hypother-r-r-mia. I-i-i-f that's-s-s what you'r-r-r-e t-r-r-r-y-y-y-ing to f-f-f-igur-r-re out-t-t-t."

"We have a lot to figure out here, son. We really appreciate you helping us out."

"W-w-w-here's-s-s D-D-D-Dean?"

"He's in the other ambulance. They're treating him. You're both going to the ER for a checkup, alright? That's okay?"

"I w-w-want to s-s-s-ee-e-e him-m-m."

"You'll see him at the emergency room, Roman. Just hold tight for us, okay? You're awesome."

"I-I-I am-m?"

"From what I'm hearing, you pulled your friend out of the water. Might not have been smart, but it was a very bold thing to do."

"B-b-b-b-"

"What was that?"

"B-b-b-boyfriend. H-h-he's m-my b-b-boyfriend."

The paramedic smiled. "He's lucky to have you."

Roman looked up. In the crazy scene of the night, with lights flashing and people moving about, he caught one familiar face he was happy to see again. "S-S-Seth."

"Sorry?"

"Seth."

He stood behind the paramedics at a short distance. "Roman, you jumped off the rock into the waterfall," he said, sounding more amazed than critical—but Roman could still sense the judgement. "You could have killed yourself, Ro."

"B-but I d-didn't."

"Yeah, you didn't. You're lucky to be alive."

"I-I am."

"Roman, we're going to put you in the ambulance now," the paramedic said, standing up. "Get those wet clothes off you. Get you somewhere warm, dry, and safe. Okay?"

"Take care of him," Seth said. "Please."

"We will. He's going to be alright. They both are."

Roman closed his eyes. He wanted to go to sleep. Couldn't, but at least he knew the next time he slept, it would be soundly, safely, and with Dean.

They were alive.