Here's part 3 ! Thank you to everyone who reviewing and favourited/followed me or the story, it means a lot ! xx Enjoy!

Protection - Part 3

The sun was barely visible through the horizon when Emma's eyes fluttered open. She'd slept in stretches of a few hours, but never without waking up a few times with her head buzzing with thoughts. She kept having strange dreams, like one where her father had caught her playing chest with a younger version of herself and scolded her for not closing the door properly. None of it made any sense, and all the dreams would end with her alone in her bedroom with the door locked from the outside. Sometimes Roman made an appearance, but only to throw himself out of the window and collapse on the ground. When she went to check on him, he had suddenly transformed into Pete's very different shape and lay there, smiling up at her.

By this point she was more than fed up with it and opted instead to stay awake, waiting for the day to start. She had nothing planned particularly, as usual, which only convinced her further to stay inside of her room for as long as she could. It was almost embarrassing, really, to walk around the house with nothing to do, a stepmother she despised and dark figures lurking, trying to spot eventual danger. Her bedroom was her prison one day and her safe heaven the next.

It was almost noon when she finally risked a trip outside of her room, her stomach screaming for some food and coffee. She was met with a familiar guard in the kitchen, whom she never really spoke to much given her slight fear of him. He had been here for a while already, along with his friend who simply looked like a taller, older version of him, but neither of them made her feel particularly comfortable, so she stayed away. He gave her a small nod, standing close to the kitchen island looking through the glass windows to the backyard, as did many other guards on duty at this post. She answered him with an awkward wave and pondered through the refrigerator when a strong voice spoke behind her.

"Emma, sweetie, could I speak to you in my office?" her father asked from afar, leaning through the door to his said-office. Emma quickly nodded, abandoning her search and instead walking around the kitchen island and Anderson to get to further down the hall.

"What's up?" she spoke once she'd stepped into his office.

"Close the door."

"Uh, okay," she hesitantly agreed, doing so with a perplexed expression.

A heavy pause followed the action as her father debated his choice of words. Emma stood before him, dancing from one foot to the other, suddenly growing anxious. His face was stern, thick lines tracing his forehead as he looked her over. Finally, he cleared his throat, and spoke.

"What is this I hear about you sneaking boys into your room?"

A load the size of a mountain seemed to knock her right in the stomach as her father's words registered through her brain. Her lack of sleep and food rendered her dizzy, and for a minute she figured she might have hallucinated the whole thing.

"I'm sorry, what?" he voice sounded foreign as her father's stare only got harder, the older man obviously displeased with her decision to act like she didn't know what he was talking about.

"I was informed earlier this morning that you had a boy in your room last night," he only explained, and Emma saw red.

"You were informed?" she repeated, her voice sharp as she took a step forward. "You mean Reigns told you?"

"That's besides the point, young lady," her father insisted, his jaw clenching as he saw her approaching. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to invite strangers into our home?"

"Strangers!" Emma exclaimed, suddenly losing all patience and self-control as she kept focusing on the fact that Roman had blabbed on her. "Pete is my friend, you've met him!"

Here she was, feeling bad for being short with Roman, and meanwhile he was displaying all her secrets to her father. She felt betrayed, even more so knowing that Roman had only done what was asked of him. In the end, he'd kept his loyalty towards her father, and not to her.

"I got the impression he was being a little more than friendly," her father pressed on, his blue eyes full of disappointment. Emma breathed heavily, her anger growing more every second. Was she not old enough to decide who she was spending time with, and how?

"Even if he was, it's none of your business," she spat angrily, her nostrils flaring.

"Excuse me?" her father spoke, taken aback by the response. He rose from his sitting position, towering above her.

Father and daughter stared each other down, none wavering, tension filling the air.

"I get that you want to protect me; I get the situation you're in and the implications it has on me. But I am eighteen, and I am my own person," she told him, her voice quivering from pent up frustration, unused to speaking her mind.

"Clearly, you do not understand the implications if you would so carelessly let someone inside of our home," William replied. Emma felt her stomach clench as her eyes burned, emotion overwhelming her as she took in her father's words.

"I've never done anything wrong," she cried, her weeks filled with warm tears. Her throat constricting her words, but she hoarsely spoke them out anyway. "Never. I'm stuck here, all the time, and I never say a word. The least you could do is let me have someone over without treating me like a child!"

William's shoulders fell as his daughter display of emotion caught him off guard. He listened through her speech, mulling her arguments over, and looked down shamefully. He knew how difficult this all was on her, and his constant need to protect her had him forgetting that she was growing up.

"You're right," he agreed, looking up at her. "You are an adult now."

Surprise was evident on Emma's face at her father's words echoed through the wide room, her blood burning with the satisfaction of winning this small battle. She didn't have time to go on, however, because William was clearly not finished.

"You're old enough to see boys, I'll grant you that. But I don't want them sneaking around in my house," he went on. Emma sighed, knowing it had all sounded too good. "Which is why I want to meet this Pete fellow."

"What?"

Emma eyes went wide as she realized what she'd gotten herself into, her father taking her words and twisting them around towards meeting her friend.

"That's really not necessary," she argued, shaking her head. She had gone on about Pete being her possible boyfriend in front of Roman out of pure frustration, and had been somewhat intimate with the other boy from having her thoughts clouded with images of her body guard. Nothing about the situation made the meeting of her father and Pete pertinent.

"You deemed it necessary when you snuck him into my house," William replied, finally sitting back down triumphantly.

Emma still stood in front her him, her mouth agape, trying to hold her to her previous emotions as to not let the unpredictable turn of events push her out of the serious conversation she was trying to have. But it was no use, and after a moment of silence, she simply nodded.

"Fine."

She waited a few seconds more, and when her father didn't add anything, slowly made her way of them the room, more confused than she had been coming in. As soon as her father's office door was closed behind her, however, did she feel the rush of every word she yearned to say flood her mind, feeling foolish for agreeing so easily.

As she went back to the kitchen where Anderson still stood, all her emotions flooded back in, and she was suddenly furious with everyone. Her father, who had no concept of what being a young girl was like and thought he could rule her entire life; Roman, for betraying her trust and going behind her back; and herself, for being a wimp, unable to say what she truly felt.

In a fit of rage, she slammed her hand on the kitchen counter, letting out a rare curse as she caused Anderson to turn around in a flash, not expecting the outburst.

"Easy, girlie, don't hurt yourself," he said, half smiling. She only sent him a deathly glare before stomping away, half aware of where she was heading, just as Rollins was making his way over after hearing the commotion.

"What's up her butt?" he asked Anderson in a humorous tone, and the other man shrugged.

"Some guy, apparently," he mumbled, having only heard half of the conversation from his standing point as Mr. Regal was scolding his daughter. "She had him over last night. Roman caught them."

"Wait-what?" Rollins exclaimed, suddenly serious.

"I don't know man, just ask Reigns when he gets up."

With that, Anderson made his way out of the room, leaving Rollins with what seemed to be a perplexed yet very disturbed expression on his face.

Emma had only ever been here twice, yet she felt weirdly determined as she made her way through the dimly lit halls, heading for the guard's quarters. She had no idea what she was doing or what she was going to say, all she knew was that she had something to get off her chest and it simply had to come out.

On her second turn through the hallways, she was met with a few doors on either side of her, and wondered where she was going to find the large Samoan man. Yet, on her first try, the very first door to her right, she barged into his room, his sleeping form barely visible underneath a pile of pillow and blankets. The sound of the door opening had him jump awake, reaching for his night stand to grab his weapon as he stood on his feet before Emma could register a single thing.

Roman's eyes were unfocused as he held on to his gun, his bare chest heaving. Emma stood frozen, more disturbed by his near nakedness as she was about what was in his hand. As he realized who he was facing, Roman let the gun fall back on the nightstand, swallowing a lump in his throat as he mistook her look of pure shock as fear towards him.

She stuttered a few words, at a loss as to why she was here in the first place, raking her mind for the answers. She closed her eyes, the sight of him being too distracting to focus, and she was finally capable on remembering what had her running down there.

"What the hell is your problem?" she burst out, her voice loud and shaky.

"My problem?" he replied, his expression confused. He waved around, silently pointing at the situation where she had been the one barging into his room.

"Yeah! Your problem! You just had to tell him, huh? You had make it even worse, didn't you?" she pressed on, her voice even louder but getting clearer as she let her emotions out. Realization hit Roman in an instant, his feature softening as he understood the reasoning behind her outburst. His eyes left her face, trying to hide the shame of what he'd done.

"I had to tell him," he simply explained, still not looking at her.

"Why? Because you work for him? Because he's my dad and I'm just a helpless little girl? What?" Emma had only half an idea of what was coming out of her mind, but most of it was just words she had been hanging on to for years on end, years before Roman had even been in her life. She wasn't surprised about this situation at all, she'd had guards blab on her before, but it had never hurt like this. She'd never liked one of them the way she liked them, and she hadn't gotten close to any of them that same way either.

"Because I was looking out for you!" His eyes were back on her after he'd yelled the words out, his chest heaving as he pointed at her. "I'm trying to protect you."

"You're not protecting me, Roman, you're babying me!" Her voice was softer, a frown taking over her face. "I thought we were friends."

Emma swallowed down the tears threatening to surface through her eyes. She didn't want to let him think it was affection her this much. Roman stayed silent, only increasing her discomfort, regretting her decision to come here. She had obviously played this scenario in her head where they both enjoyed each other's company and were becoming closer by each day spent together.

Her first impression had been right; Roman was only there because he had to, not because he wanted to. She thought him as a friend, but he was just an employee.

"This was a mistake," she breathed out, her shoulders falling.

"What is?" he pondered, jaw clenched.

"Coming here. I thought we were friends," she repeated, her voice filled with sadness. "But I was wrong. I guess I'll just go back to having Rollins tagging along with me."

She hung her head down, once again saddened by her own lack of backbone. Roman, instead, took a step forward hesitantly, clearing his throat to get her attention. Her head snapped up, unable to control the slight blush to her cheeks as his naked chest stood so close to her.

"We are friends."

He was only a feet away from her, his head titled lower to meet her gaze, a few strands of his loose hair falling in front of his eyes. Emma took a shaky breath, feeling relieved but uncertain. If they were friends, why had he gone to her father behind her back?

"And as you friend, I'm trying to help you," he explained, his voice low and calm.

"I'm a big girl, I can look out for myself," she argued, her voice quavering only slightly as he sighed and his breath hit her face softly.

"Well, clearly not if you're hanging around with a guy like that," he went on. His mind flashed with memories of Pete's body hovering above Emma's, his mouth pressing up against hers, and frustration grew evident of Roman's face.

"You don't even know him," she scoffed, shaking her head.

"I don't have to. I know the type, and guys like that are only after one thing," he spat, scowling at the thought.

"Yeah, what's that?"

Emma cocked her head to the side, watching Roman's discomfort grow as she laughed humourlessly. Even as a friend, he was acting just like her father; insisting on treating her like she was only a child. She despised the feeling, and grew frustrated at Roman from bringing it out of her.

"No, please, let me in on all the details," she continued sarcastically. Roman shook his head, annoyed with her attitude.

"If you were such a big girl, you'd know what I'm talking about," he replied, only the hint of a smirk crossing his face. Emma felt herself grow angry again, absolutely disgusted that he would use her own words against her to put her on the spot.

"I don't need your approval, you know," she blurted out, unable to play along with him. Her face was red with the implications of their conversation they'd just had, and she tried her best to avoid it. She didn't need Roman knowing just how unexperienced she was with the whole thing, especially after thinking of him like she had just the night before.

"Which is exactly why I told your dad," he retorted, shrugging, obviously proud of himself. Emma's eyes burned with pure rage, her small hands contorted into fists on either side of her.

"You're a shit friend, just so you know," she hissed through gritted teeth, and Roman sighed, holding his hands up as though he was about to place them on her shoulders, but retracted himself at the last second. Instead he passed his hands through his loose hair, glancing at the floor before going back to her.

"I won't tell you what to do, because it's not my place. But if it was, I'd tell you to stay away from that guy. I have some sort of sense about these things, and I get the feeling he's bad news," Roman said, his voice low and calm, pressing every word. She could tell by his eyes that he was being very serious, and she bit her tongue, holding back a few comments about how his sense of things weren't real facts. Instead she nodded, signaling that she understood what he was saying.

"I'll be careful," she assured him, and Roman didn't seem satisfied, but nodded as well. "That's the most I can do."

"Fine," he replied, his voice sharper, betraying his annoyance. "Don't come crying to me when you realize I'm right, though," he mumbled through his teeth, and Emma scoffed.

"Fine."

With that, she spun on her heels, no more or less frustrated than she had been on her way in. The ambivalence in his way of acting with her had her head spinning, no longer understanding his reasoning. All she knew was that she absolutely despised that everyone seemed to think they knew what was best for better than she did. Her only comfort lay in the fact she Roman did, in fact, consider them friends, no matter how wrongly he was choosing to act on it. Her heart fluttered at the thought that he had acted out of care for her and not only in loyalty to her father, and she shook the thoughts out of her head as she made her way back to the main house.

Being friends didn't mean that he had feelings for her, not the way she felt for him. And in this case, maybe they were better off not being friends at all.

It's with that thought in mind that Emma spent the next two weeks avoiding Roman at all cost. To be fair, she was also still slightly upset at him altogether, but she was mostly acting in prevention of future hurt feelings. Fear kept her at bay, and Roman's respect for her wishes kept him away, too.

In order to spend as little time as possible with him, she had decided to take Rollins with her on her outings, and when he wasn't available, she took Ambrose. She had been worried at first but had soon warmed up to the peculiar man, knowing now that his tough demeanor was more due to shyness rather than rudeness. He was quiet and kept to himself, but after three days of having him as her chauffeur to the library and the beach, he'd started talking more, and she grew to like him. He was straight to the point in his comments, but always up for a joke and his rare smiles were enough to make any outing a lot better.

Regardless of all that, however, she missed Roman, and took every opportunity to learn more about him even if it meant hearing it from other people. Whenever Rollins of Ambrose mentioned him, she would press them towards going into more detail, and was always disappointed when the conversation stopped being about him.

"That's the worst joke I've ever heard," Emma laughed from the backseat as Dean drove them back from the library. They had spent a good two hours there and were slowly on their way back.

"That's what I said!" Dean agreed, laughing along. "Five years though, and Roman still thinks it's the most hilarious thing in the world."

Emma's ears perked up at the mention of Roman, and she tried to seem disinterested as she spoke, trying not to draw attention to her curiosity.

"You've known Roman for five years?" she inquired, looking through the window in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

"Seven, actually," Dean corrected, glancing at her through the rear-view mirror before settling his eyes on the road once more. Emma immediately noticed the seriousness in his face and how his shoulders seemed stiffer from where she was sitting. Was she being that obvious? Did Dean not want to encourage her obsessive curiosity?

"Where'd you guys meet?" she kept on asking, unable to stop herself. Dean seemed to get even more uncomfortable, his knuckles going white as he held onto the steering wheel tightly. He cleared his throat, fidgeting in his seat. "It's okay if you don't want to tell me."

She felt suddenly guilty for pressing her questions noticing how Dean was reacting. He met her kind eyes once again and relaxed slightly, taking a deep breath.

"It's not that. I just… I don't want to freak you out or anything," he mumbled, shrugging uncomfortably. Emma frowned, confusion crossing her features as she failed in understanding what he meant.

"Freak me out about what?" she wondered in a small voice.

"I thought Rollins would have told you."

Emma shook her head to signal that Seth had not, in fact, told her about whatever Dean was going on about. She grew anxious as she waited to see of he would finally say it, feeling even more curious now than she had asking the question in the first place.

"Told me what?" she asked him finally after a few more seconds, afraid that he would stop talking altogether. Dean swallowed deeply and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel before he spoke.

"Reigns and I met in the big house, ya know?" he finally admitted, the tapping on the wheel growing louder.

"You mean prison?"

Dean nodded, averting her gaze as he focused on driving, leaving Emma to deal with this new disturbing information. She felt utterly shocked, having not expected this answer at all. To anyone else, this wouldn't have been surprising. Her father hired thugs, after all, people to do his bidding in a wide illegal business, yet never did she expect either of her favourite guards to have been imprisoned. They were both rather large men, with tempers and demeanors which might have hinted in that direction, but also so very kind and understanding. She'd somehow had this idea that inmates were to be stereotypical caricatures of bad guys, rotten on every front. Clearly, it was not the case.

"You freaked out?" he asked her after a few minutes, seeing as her face had not yet changed from her initial shock.

"No," she assured him, trying to relax her features. She wasn't freaked out, really, but more in complete disbelief.

And slowly coming to the realization that it didn't change anything at all. They were both still people she liked, and with her knowledge of this or not, they were still the same people, who she cared for.

"Good," Dean breathed out, relieved. He gave her a meek smile through the mirror and Emma returned it, suddenly feeling privileged that he had been willing to share this information with her and didn't seem to regret it.

They went back to a lighter subject, even though Emma burned with desire to ask why they had been inside in the first place. She didn't, though, knowing that if ever he wanted to tell her, he would. In the mean time, she felt closer to him, and that was enough.

That same night came the dreaded dinner her father had set up to meet Pete. In those two weeks, they had gone out a few times, but no other make out session like the one in her room had occurred. He was still just her friend from high school who she liked and kissed occasionally. Pete, on his hand, had been very fervent in trying to make it go further, but Emma had always found a reason to cut the date short. Tonight, however, she was stuck with him and her father at her own home for however long it took before her father decided to end the whole thing.

Safe to say, she would have preferred a slow painful death to having any part of this. Instead, she got both: the dinner itself was a slow and painful torture as Pete acted like him and her were the couple of the hour whilst her father mentioned far too many times how safety is key. She'd spit out half of her drink when he'd said it the first time, and Pete had blushed next to her, but not without brushing his hand on her thigh under the table suggestively.

When William finally announced that he was heading off to bed, Maryse's hand in his as they made their way upstairs, it was almost midnight, and Emma was exhausted. The dinner itself had been a drag, but not as draining as the constant nagging in the back of her head about how Roman had been right about this.

The more time she spent with Pete, the more she realized he was, in fact, only focused on getting inside of her pants. His conversations were always laced with innuendos and flirting, and never once did they hang out together without him trying to convince her to find a dark corner and get frisky. She was growing tired of it, and now that her promise of having him and her father meet was settled, she knew it was just about over.

Pete proposed that they have a walk around the property before he had to leave so they could spend some alone time together, and even though she wasn't particularly fond of the idea, she agreed. Letting him down easy in a nice late-night walk definitely wasn't the worst way to break up with someone. He led her towards their small garden, hidden from most of the backyard with a few bushes and trees as he sat her down on a stone bench, his fingers dancing on her thigh.

"Pete, I need to talk to you," Emma told him as he was leaning over, about to brush his lips against hers. He interrupted his actions to look at her and listen, all the while smirking at her knowingly.

"What's up?"

"Err, listen, you are … great! I mean, I like you a lot," she babbled, very aware that she apparently had no idea how to do this at all. Pete was her friend, and she was hoping to salvage that relationship while breaking up this one. Unfortunately for her, she had no idea how to go about that. "Spending time with you is a lot of fun."

"I like ya too, love," Pete purred, leaning forward to place a few kisses on her neck. Emma mentally kicked herself as she realized she probably sounded like she was trying to move forward with him rather than the opposite, and he was taking it as a sign to make a move. "I want ya so fuckin' much," he breathed in her ear, biting down on her lobe as his hands grabbed her by the hips and pulled her towards him.

"Pete, listen, I'm trying to say something," she insisted, trying to push him off her, but his grip on her hips was stronger than she anticipated.

"We've talked enough," he growled, teeth now biting down her neck, and Emma let out a small yelp as the last one was a lot more forceful. She could tell she would have a bruise in the morning, and didn't appreciate that he was ignoring her obvious discomfort.

Her palms pressed harder on his chest as she attempted to push him off once more, which only encouraged him into holding her even tighter. One of his hands was now making its way under her skirt, trying to push her thighs apart to reach her center.

"Pete, stop it," she ordered him, pressing her thighs together to keep him from going further. He ignored her, however, and kept pushing harder, his rough fingers digging into her skin and leaving marks.

"Come on, Emma, ya know you want to," he said, his face meeting hers before his other hand reached to back of her head and forced her face in his in a rough kiss. Emma resisted, biting down on his bottom lip harshly to get him away. Instead he laughed, licking the blood off his lip as his eyes got darker. "Feisty," he laughed, latching on to her wrist as he pulled her forward, taking advantage of her surprise to place himself between her legs, now standing up from the bench to look down at her.

"You're hurting me, stop it!" she pleaded him, louder this time, fear growing rapidly through her. They were far enough away from the house that no one would be able to see them from a window, and she felt suddenly very alone.

Alone with Pete, who she thought she could trust until now. To the contrary, he kept ignoring her protest and was now reaching for her shirt to try and take it off her, all the while kissing and biting her neck and holding her down by her hips and wrist.

"Get off me!" she yelled, trying with all her might to push him off, but to no avail. He was much stronger than she was, and she had no hope of getting him to stop like this.

As she was debating an alternative, Pete was suddenly yanked off her in a flash, and Emma fell to the floor as she tried to decipher what was happening through the obscurity. The scene was made quite clear to her in an instant, however, as she recognized the tall shape of Roman as he stood over Pete. The ladder lay on the floor, looking up at the other man with a mix of fear and anger, obviously surprised at having been interrupted by the same person once again.

Emma's eyes widened as she looked Roman over: he was terrifying. His eyes were bloodshot red and wide open, his mouth in a thin line, his jaw stiff as he breathed heavily through his nose. His hands lay in fists on either side of him, shaking slightly, as his chest heaved and a vein threatened to pop out of his neck from how tense he was.

"I'll kill you."

His voice sounded nothing like she had heard before: it was like someone else had spoken. Roman's voice was usually soft and warm, but now it was cold and lower than ever, laced with venom and truth. She knew he meant it the second he said it, she saw it in his face: he was a few seconds away from actually killing him.

"I swear to god; I will kill you."

Emma felt bile rising in her throat as she sat motionless on the floor, unable to move, unable to speak as she witnessed the situation. A part of her did want Pete to hurt, she wanted Roman to send him right to hell for what he was about to do, but she couldn't let it happen. She wouldn't be able to live with herself if she did.

For a moment, no one moved until Pete slowly made his way to his feet, taking his time as to not send Roman flying off at him again. Once he was up, and Roman stared him down, looking like a ticking time bomb about ready to explode, he smirked.

And then Emma knew it was over.

"Don't worry, big guy, I was gonna let ya have her once I was done."

The bomb exploded, Roman lounging at Pete without a second thought, his fist hitting him square in the jaw. Pete fell back and retaliated, and for a few seconds it looked like he could hold his own as punches were exchanged, but very quickly Roman took over.

Before long Pete was back on the ground, Roman towering over him, hit after hit making contact the younger man's now blood stained face. Maybe it was the sound of Roman's fist hitting Pete's jaw, or the growls Roman was letting out as he kept punching, or the not so sudden but so very overwhelming realization that she was about to witness Roman murder someone, but she finally got up and made her way over, finding her voice at all.

"Stop it! Stop it, please, Roman, stop it!" she screamed, the volume of her voice scratching her throat as she felt hot tears falling down her face.

She was shaking from head to toe, every scream louder than the one before, feeling like she wasn't being heard. Roman kept hitting as though he was in a trance, like he had finally snapped and couldn't be stopped.

"I'm begging you, please stop it! You're killing him!" she cried, still unheard.

After what seemed like forever, however, she heard footsteps approaching and saw three figures making their way over at a run. They had obviously heard her yelling even if Roman hadn't, and she watched in relief as Seth circled Roman's waist with his strong arms, pulling him off Pete's bloody form.

"Roman, get your shit together, stop it!" he yelled through gritted teeth, putting everything he had into holding on to Roman. He wasn't strong enough to compete with his anger, however, and soon Ambrose had to join in and push himself between Roman's chest and the other man. Together they held on to Roman as he attempted to go past them and reach his victim once more. Emma realized in horror that not only were his knuckles torn and bloody, but his face was covered in droplets of blood that were very obviously not his own. And for the first time, she really was afraid of him.

"Reigns, settle down!" the third person ordered him, her father have heard the commotion as well.

"What the fuck is going on?!" added Ambrose, staring between Roman and Pete, still standing between them, his hands rested Roman's chest. Seth also still held on to the bigger man's waist in fear of him going after Pete again. Roman seemed too out of it to explain anything, however, and Emma was forced to speak up.

"He came to help me," she told them, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. Their heads all snapped in her direction, all expect for Roman who was still staring down at the other bloodied man, and she felt very small under their gaze. They all seemed to only realize now that she had been there this whole time. "He… he just wanted to help me."

Her father walked over, pulling her into a comforting hug as he soothed her crying. She, herself, did not have it in her to explain much, but the situation was made clearer when her father leaned back after their embrace and looked over the bruises on her neck and wrists. His face darkened, and he turned his head towards his men without letting go of his daughter.

"Ambrose. Get Gallows, tell him to meet me in my office in ten."

Dean nodded, taking a second to make sure Seth was still holding on to Roman that he could step away, disappearing through the dark night. Her father turned back to her, wiping tears away from her face with his thumb.

"You go inside, get some rest. I need to take care of this, I'll be with you later, alright?" he told her, and Emma nodded, sniffing. Her father kissed her forehead briefly before also leaving the area, leaving her with Roman, Seth, and Pete's inanimate form.

Every look in Pete's direction made her want to throw up, so instead she focused on the two other men in front of her, one of which was still in fighting stance, his stare deadly. Meanwhile, Seth was trying to calm him down.

"Brother, you need to relax, it's over," he said, talking softly through Roman's ear. "I don't blame you, I would have done the same fucking thing. Hell, it's taking me everything not to do it anyway, but it's over. Emma is fine. She's right here, and she's fine."

It took a few more minutes of convincing, but finally Roman's body got more and more relaxed, and Seth let him go hesitantly. The taller man slowly came to his senses, his stare finally leaving Pete's body to look around, seemingly surprised about where he was. His features were no longer menacing, but full of fear. Fear of what he'd done and who had witnessed it. His eyes met hers and she swore she saw a single tear fall down the side of his face.

"I'm sorry."

He looked like he was about ready to fall over as the words left his mouth, and all she wanted to do was run over to him and hold him up. She never had time, however, since he suddenly turned around and walked off, his steps heavy and his shoulders slumped. They watched him walk away without another word, the silent night heavier from his absence. At a loss, Emma felt as though her legs would give out, too, before Seth was walking over to her.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, his eyes full of worry. Instead of answering, however, she let herself fall forward and he caught her, bringing her to his chest as heavy sobs broke through her. After years of spending time together, never had she hugged Seth, always feeling like it was a line none of them were willing to cross. Tonight, though, she felt grateful for his strong embrace as he let her cry into him, his hands caressing her back softly in comfort.

"You're okay, Emma. You're fine," he soothed her, her crying never wavering. "We're here for you. Always."

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