A/N: Sorry for taking so long to update. Truthfully, I've never reached up to Chapter five in any story I've written but a lot of you enjoy it. Some OOC-ness coming up. I'm sorry. Warning for this chapter: Near-death. I don't know anything about what happens when an alter goes away or 'dies' so I'm sorry if there are misconceptions spewed throughout this chapter.

Jonathan's serious look and tone of voice filled Seth with unease. The half-blonde swallowed the lump in his throat and mustered up his voice to ask: "Is...Dean okay?"

"He's fine. Don't worry," The blonde reassured. "We need to talk."

Seth nodded and Jonathan walked over to the couch and sat down, legs closed and back leaning straight against the back (?) of the couch, like he was expecting Seth to scold him if he didn't sit like this.

"You love Dean, don't you?" He asked, straight to the point. He stared into Rollins' chocolate brown eyes and looked at him with a daring look on his face, as if he was challenging Seth to say something hurtful.

"Of course I do," Rollins answered almost immediately. Was this a thing now? Was doubting his love for Dean trending now? "I love Dean to death, Jonathan, you know that."

Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck, releasing a sigh through his nose. He was sick and tired of his protectors fighting over just one man. But even he had to admit that Seth was special, that he was different. He couldn't really blame his alters for obsessing over him. He liked Seth and wanted to see him and Dean be happy then he remembered that the man next to him almost killed Ambrose.

He needed to end this, all of this, before he loses both of his protectors. Seth had a grip on both of them and that was a dangerous thing. He had control over Dean and Jon, make them do things they wouldn't normally do, and Jonathan didn't know if the two-toned man was aware of that. All it could take is a single sentence, an action, and he could lose his protectors and he would be left exposed to the world once more, something he would never be ready for.

"If you really love him," He started, glaring at Rollins with a subtle hint of hatred. "If you really care about us, then stay away."

Seth looked at Jonathan with shock. No, he couldn't be asking him to do that, right? All he could do was listen to the original persona as he continued.

"Don't come near us, don't come near Dean. Don't talk to him. Just stay away from us. If you really want Dean to be okay, you'll leave him. You'll end your relationship, you'll let him forget you and you won't take a single step towards him at work. We almost lost him and I'm making sure that we won't lose him for good."

"Jonathan, what are you doing? No!" Dean pleaded. "Stop! Seth!"

Jonathan's words felt like a punch to the gut. Seth found it difficult to breathe. Jonathan was right: Dean would be better off without him. He loved Dean to bits but he would never forgive himself if Ambrose faded. He pursed his lips and nodded.

"Okay…Y-Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry." Seth hung his head in resignation.

"No! Jonathan, what are you doing?!"

Jonathan became silent, his body leaning back and his eyes held a blank look. Seth could tell they were switching and he kept an eye on him until one of them fully takes over. After a few minutes, blue-gray eyes looked around the room, trying to recall his surroundings. When he remembered where he was, Dean turned to Seth.

The champion got up from the sofa and grabbed his bag and his laptop, preparing to leave. Inside, though, he was elated that Dean was back but it shattered his heart to know that this would probably the last time he'll be anywhere near him.

Dean grabbed Seth's arm, stopping him as he went for the direction of the door. "Seth, no. Don't listen to him. Don't…Don't go." Ambrose sounded so miserable that it almost broke Seth's heart. Dean didn't mean for any of this to happen. But he was unfortunate enough to have two alters who kept sticking their noses in his lovelife. Seth just stared back at him, his beautiful brown eyes devoid of emotion. His voice lacked emotion as well.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I love you, I really do."

"Then don't do this. Don't listen to them. Listen to me! Seth-"

Seth yanked his arm back and walked out of the hotel room, Dean hot on his heels. He managed to lose him when he entered his own hotel room. He closed the door and leaned against it before closing his eyes. He could hear Dean demanding him to open the door and he almost stumbled forward when he felt Dean's body colliding with the wood in his attempt to get inside.

Dean kept slamming his body against the door, trying to see if it would give but it didn't. He kicked, punched and clawed at the wood, all the while screaming and begging for Rollins to open the door.

"Seth! Open this fucking door right now! I'm serious! Open. This. DOOR!"

He kept at it until his right upper arm was mottled with dark bruises, his feet hurt and his knuckles and fingers on both hands were soaked, caked and dripping with blood. He sat outside the door as he tried to steady his breathing once more. From inside the room, it was awfully silent, which gave Dean the thought that maybe Seth was asleep.

He placed his right hand on the door, the hand shaky from the violence he displayed earlier, and he rested his forehead on the cool wood as well.

"Goodnight, Seth," He cooed, even though it was highly likely that the two-toned man couldn't hear him. "I really wish I could be in there to kiss you goodnight. I love you, Rollins."

But Seth was far from asleep. He was sitting down on the floor, his back leaning against the door as he listened to what Dean was saying. His words were a bit muffled by the wooden door but he could still understand his ex-lover's words. Strangely and maybe disturbingly, Dean's heart-broken voice was soothing him and Seth felt horrible for it. Dean was losing his mind outside this door and here was Seth finding comfort in the broken tone in the Lunatic's voice.

Dean pulled at his hair, trying to calm himself down. His vision started to blur once more and his ears couldn't pick up any sound. He pawed at the door again, desperately trying to get some air into his lungs.

"S-Seth...Open the door," He begged, his voice weak and soft. He hated sounding like this, hated having to beg. He covered his mouth as he coughed, the action tearing at his throat. He removed his hand from his mouth and blood was splattered all over his palm. He panicked, knocking on Seth's door as loud as he could. He heard footsteps approaching but he didn't care. He had to get inside.

"Dean, my god, are you okay?" A deep rumble of a voice called out to him and a warm hand rested on his shoulder. Ambrose looked up and saw Roman and the Usos staring worriedly at him, Jimmy already calling for help on his phone.

Roman held Dean's face in his hands, trying to see if he was switching but he wasn't. The Lunatic Fringe was deathly pale and he looked as if he was choking to death. He looked at the door, recognizing it was Seth's room. He knocked rapidly, calling out Seth's name.

After a few seconds, the two-toned man opened the door and his eyes dropped to Dean on the floor, looking half-dead. He quickly let the four men in, Roman carrying Dean in a fireman's carry before depositing him on the sofa, Rollins crouching down to meet Dean's hazy eyes.

"Dean? Dean, look at me. Look at me," Rollins urged, running his fingers through Dean's dirty blonde hair in his panic. "Ambrose, I'm right here. Look at me."

Dean followed Seth's instruction and turned his attention to him, his eyes slowly turning darker.

"You're gonna be okay. We're gonna get help, alright?"

"N-No…"

"Dean, you need a doctor. I'm not talking about a fucking psychologist. Just try to breathe."

"Dean, stay with us. It's okay. Look, he's right there. You were thinking that he doesn't care about you anymore?" Moxley chipped in. "Well, you've never been so wrong. He cares about you too much, Ambrose. Enough to leave you just so you'd be okay. He still fucking loves you. He's right there. Just stay with us. Are you really going to leave him? Look at him."

Dean obeyed, looking straight into Seth's pretty brown eyes. They were filled with so much worry, desperation; love and care that Dean couldn't stand to leave him.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Come on, deep breaths. You know the drill."

Ambrose took deep breaths, Roman and Seth giving his back a few soothing rubs as they whispered words of reassurance and encouragement. His eyesight went clear again and he could hear what his former Shield brethren were saying. He coughed a few times, his blood landing on Seth's pants-clad leg and on the carpet. Seth took the hem of his shirt and quickly wiped at Dean's mouth to get rid of the crimson liquid.

Seth sighed in relief as Jey gave him a bottle of water. Instead of drinking for himself, he twisted the cap off and brought it to Dean's lips, tipping it so the blonde could drink. Dean gulped down as much as he could, droplets of the water dripping from the corners of his mouth. He pushed the bottle away when he had enough.

Roman kept petting Dean's hair as the younger man calmed down. "Seth, is he okay?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. Seth nodded, cupping Dean's cheeks with both hands.

"He's okay now, right Dean?" Ambrose nodded, still looking dazed and confused . His eyes were back to their blue-gray shade and he looked at the faces of the men around him.

"T-Thanks, you guys…" He breathed out, tilting his head a bit until he was looking up at Roman, who smiled back at him. "No problem, Dee," The Samoan answered, messing up Dean's dark blonde hair. "Brothers 'till the end, right?"

Dean held up his fist and Roman and Seth up theirs, in tribute to the Symbol of Excellence. "'Till everything is rubble." The unhinged man added. Roman just nodded and Jimmy tapped him on the shoulder to tell him they all needed to be downstairs in half an hour.

"Guys, we're leaving in a few minutes. You better pack up." Roman patted Seth's back and left them alone, knowing they needed to sort out some shit. The Usos followed after him, shutting the door behind them. Seth sat back on the heels of his feet, looking down at his hands as he listened to Dean's breaths return to normal. "Thanks, babe," The Lunatic Fringe said, still breathless from before. "I was fucked back there."

"Yeah, well, I couldn't let you die. And besides, you said it yourself: I'm gonna have to run you over with a car to get rid of you." Seth reminisced back to their FCW days, to that time when he first encountered signs of Dean's mental disorder. It wasn't a day he liked to remember. He's seen a part of Dean that he never should have wanted to in the first place.

[Flashback]

"…And I swear to fucking god, I had him right there and fucker just sprayed me with something." Dean was 25 back then, laid back and the last person Seth would have liked to be with. But yet here they were: Dean's hotel room, on his bed chatting as if they were boyfriends or something.

Ambrose didn't really like commitment, so it was reasonable why he was opposed to the term 'boyfriend'. 'Friends with Benefits' seemed close but they don't have random sex like people like that do. They talk, they argue, they go out on…outings and sometimes, Seth would stay over in Dean's room for the night and wake up with the blonde's arm around his body, the covers wrapped around their waists.

"Uh huh," Seth agreed sarcastically as he rolled to lie on his stomach, staring up at his kayfabe-rival with judgmental eyes. "And when was this 'supposed' match, exactly? Against who?"

Dean sat cross-legged in front of his lover, reaching over to run his palm across the expanse of Seth's smooth, muscular back. "Ring of Honor, I told you. Against Zombie Princess."

Rollins nodded in agreement, enjoying the hand on his back. "Ah, right. Jimmy, I should have known. But I don't recall him spraying you with anything."

"Whatever, you're impossible."

"Hey, Dean?" Seth moved a bit so his head was on Dean's left thigh.

"Yep?"

"You never told me about your time in other indy companies. I mean, I watched some of them but I couldn't tell if what you were talking about was real or not."

"Everything…" Dean started, his voice soft and almost inaudible. "Everything was real. The blood, the tears, the promos, everything was real. And I'd be lying if I didn't say that I hated having to do that everyday for two years."

Seth shouldn't push it but he needed to know. "Are you sure it's not because you just like your and other's blood on your hands? Real talk, Ambrose, you'd do something like that."

Dean became silent, his eyes seeming void of emotion. Seth noticed the sudden silence and pushed himself up to a sitting position. "Ambrose, hey! You okay? Hellooo…."

Ambrose remembered everything perfectly: A piece of his skin from his forehead sawed off, his teeth sinking into sweaty flesh, a bloody crooked fork in his hands. A familiar sensation on a heavy jacket sat on his shoulders and for a minute, he was deaf to everything in the world, everything except his sick, deranged subconscious.

"Dean, what's wrong with you?" Rollins held Dean by the collar of his white shirt and shook him, hoping to rouse him from whatever stupor he got himself into. "Are you listening to me? Dean! Fucking listen to me!"

He was suddenly shoved back on the bed; the blue-eyed man looked absolutely murderous.

[Cut flashback]

"Seth? Seth, hey."

Seth was knocked back to reality when Dean snapped his fingers in front of his face. He looked back up at Dean, who looked okay right now.

""You spaced out there for a second. You alright?"

The two-toned man nodded and got up to get his bags. "Get your stuff. We're leaving in half an hour."

Seth exited the room, leaving the door wide open and Dean sitting on the couch looking at him, confused and trying to figure out what to do now.

A/N: So…yeah. Again, sorry for taking too long but as you can probably see by the chapter, I was running out of ideas. But I promise to finish this story. See you in the next chapter, guys!~