Okay, so here we go, some more clarity on this one and a nice bit of Roman and Dean time too. Well, Seth and Dean had their own little chapter and I couldn't leave the Big Dog out, so here we are.

Skovko, Yep, Roman pretty much has the patience of a saint in this story and in this chapter as well (bless his heart).

AngelOfDeathOfWrestling, Aww, yay! Glad you're still enjoying this crazy ride.

Rebel8954, The remaining chapters are probably the best (at least I hope they are, they're definitely the most exciting!)

MyPaperHeart16, Thanks for the comments, I'm a stickler for grammar, I drive myself mad editing these things, to the point where I become borderline error-blind! I'm actually already writing another one. I wish I could do one focusing on each of them, but I'll be honest, I'm a Dean-basher, that's just my thing, so they'll all be there, but he'll get the brunt of it because...well, apparently because I need help, but I guess we all need a hobby, right?!

Final chapter before it all goes crazy!

Brother

Dean woke up the next morning alone, with sunlight streaming in through the windows. Around him the warehouse lay in silence but there were certainly signs that someone had been there. The first was a lingering aroma of coffee and the second was a note pinned to the screen on his desk.

Pick you up at eight, Roman.

When Dean glanced down at his watch it was seven forty five already and cursing he stumbled into the washroom and freshened himself up by splashing water in his eyes. On shuffling back out into the main space of their headquarters, he noticed a pile of clothes by the door. The sweat pants were unmistakeably Roman's but the t-shirt and hoodie were smaller.

Seth's.

Dean wasn't sure how he felt about them mothering him but as he slid the fresh threads on he couldn't deny it felt nice. For so long it felt like he'd had nothing and no one and now suddenly there those two things were again. Outwardly he railed against them – inwardly as well – but there was something familiar and comforting about them and he couldn't shake that off.

God only knew he'd tried.

At eight on the dot he shuffled from the warehouse just in time to see Roman pull up outside and on hopping up into the over-sized vehicle, he was greeted with more fast food and a welcoming smile,

"Hey, how you feeling uce?"

"I don't know," Dean grumbled back, unwrapping a breakfast sandwich, "Better I guess."

"Well, that's good."

Roman passed across a coffee and his teammate took it silently and inhaled a long sip. The caffeine hit him like a slap across the features and he could feel it flowing in hot through his veins. It made him come alive just a little, combined with bread and hot greasy egg,

"What time did you guys leave last night?"

"About one," Roman shrugged, "We decided to let you sleep it off a little. Put your seatbelt on. Which way are we heading?"

As Dean tried to simultaneously pull down the strap and juggle his precious breakfast goods, his best friend reached across the space between them and relieved him of the coffee until he was done.

"Back to The Battleground," Dean replied lightly, snagging back his java like an addict on crack, "Figure we should go from where they grabbed me – don't look like that, I told you I'm fine."

"Whatever you say uce," Roman offered back at him, his face denoting otherwise although he let Dean eat in peace.

Around them the buildings were growing steadily less cared-for and trash was beginning to pile up on the streets. By the time they reached the spot that Dean had been grabbed from, nearly every other shop front was broken down or boarded and their sleek looking car – with its black tinted windows – was being eyed suspiciously by people wondering who they were.

They certainly hadn't looked half as fucking interested while he was being kidnapped not twelve hours before. In fact it made him remember why he hated The Battleground, not to mention the similar streets on which he'd grown up.

Christ.

Dean hadn't gone back to his old neighbourhood in ages and as they drove deeper into the rough parts of Suplex, he promptly realised why that was.

In the middle of the city the buildings were well cared for, people were out doing real world things. People washed their cars on their driveways, walked their kids to school, ran errands, went to work. Where he grew up people were frequently jobless and so they sat on street corners, picked fights and smoked drugs. The Battleground reminded him of how much he'd hated it – of just how much he'd always felt apart. Barely anyone from the rougher districts were successful career men and practically none of them joined the police. There was a reason he hadn't been back in forever.

Honestly? He assumed he'd be publicly lynched.

"Real nice neighbourhood," Roman commented idly and Dean snorted a little,

"Be nice. I live here now."

"Right," Roman grinned at him, "Sorry. Which way?"

"Next right."

Dutifully Roman turned as instructed all the while trying to push the visions in his head back as he imagined a struggling Dean being dragged away. It wasn't a secret that he was protective of his best friend. He always had been, from the moment they'd met. Even throughout the year when he hadn't actually been there, he'd still been thinking about Dean every day, worrying about him and missing his stupid face. There was no doubt that Roman had been a crappy bestfriend to him which why he'd been so thrilled to get a second chance.

It was also the reason that he got where Seth was coming from.

Being in Dean's doghouse was a very lonely thing.

With his breakfast finished, Dean was sitting quietly, which in itself was all kinds of wrong. Instantly, Roman knew that something was up with him and he blew out a breath,

"You gonna tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What's eating you this morning? Because something's not right and while the smart money might be on our friendly kidney dealers, I'm gonna go ahead guess it could be Seth."

Dean snorted back in response but stared forwards,

"It can't be both?"

"It can, but it's not."

"How the hell would you know?"

Roman smirked across at him,

"I'm not just a pretty face over here. I mean, I am a pretty face, obviously, but not just that."

"Ugh," Dean grunted and shook his head a little, "You've been hanging around Seth for too long."

"So it is Seth then?"

"If I say yes will you leave me alone? Left, I think."

The second statement was in relation to a junction and Roman frowned at his uncertainty,

"You think?"

"Hey, go easy on me here, okay? I was blindfolded, had my hands behind my back and the Russian one was fuckin' sittin' on me," Dean blinked absently, "Rusev, that's his name, right?"

"Yeah but he's Bulgarian. Wait, sitting on you?"

"Yep. Like a fuckin' carpet."

"Jesus – ,"

"Now take a right."

It was difficult for Roman to do much of anything given the anger coursing through his veins. Dean hadn't spoken much about what had happened but that tiny glimpse was more than enough and a sudden need for vengeance flowed through Roman's system.

He was going to enjoy getting even with The League.

In the renewed – yet thankfully comfortable – silence, Roman's mind drifted back to his earlier line of questioning, realizing that he hadn't had an answer either way. As Dean pointed right again and Roman took it silently, he drew in a breath and made a second attempt,

"So getting back to this whole Seth thing – ,"

"Roman – ," Dean groaned,

"He's trying. You know he is."

"Of course I fuckin' know. He's drivin' me crazy."

"Then why don't you ease up and give him a chance?"

"I can't."

"Dean – ,"

His best friend growled angrily and Roman stopped dead at the sheer frustration that he heard. He was used to Dean being all-out angry and off-the-wall crazy, they were par for the course, but the helpless exasperation he could hear from beside him was new and kind of different as well,

"No, look, I can't do it," Dean forced out, like each word was a struggle, "I'm not just sayin' that, alright? It's not like I'm tryin' to be an asshole, I just – I can't let him in again. I won't."

"Because?"

"Because I couldn't cope with losin' him. Not again. Not after I've already lost – ,"

Her.

The word hung unspoken between them like a spectre and Dean actually audibly choked down a gulp. Sometimes his crazy front was so damn convincing that Roman forgot how broken he really was and realizing that his brother was on the verge of a meltdown, the bigger man dropped a hand down on his knee,

"Hey."

The warmth of it grounded him and Dean sucked a sigh in, centring himself before it all went to hell.

"I can't do it Roman," he finally replied mildly, "Losin' someone else would fuckin' kill me, y'know?"

"I know, but Dean, he isn't going to leave again."

"How do you know?"

"The same way you do."

Dean snorted loudly and just like that, he was back at angry,

"That's the fuckin' point – I don't."

"Don't you?"

"No and will you stop being cryptic? I've told you why I'm done givin' Seth chances now drop it, alright? We're done. Turn left."

To shut the conversation down even further, Dean crossed his arms tightly over his chest, adopting a frown beneath his ribbed beanie that was so severe it would have easily curdled milk. Taking the hint, Roman stuck to the driving, following the directions which were huffed from then on. The mood changed again however when they slid past the hospital and although Dean didn't say or do anything, Roman sensed him stiffen all the same.

"You alright babe?"

He knew he wasn't and Dean knew that he knew he wasn't as well. It seemed pretty pointless trying to deny it and so in response the copper blonde just shrugged and tried to seem nonchalant.

Evidently he failed,

"Dean, come on, talk to me."

"It's just a hospital Roman."

The big head shook,

"No it's not."

Which – damn it – was true. Completely and utterly. It wasn't just a hospital. How could it be? It was the hospital where she had worked so faithfully, the hospital where he had met her, the hospital where she had –

Nope.

Dean frowned,

"What the fuck do you want me to say Roman? That I miss her? Fine. I miss her every day. Every fuckin' second I'm breathin' and she's not with me, I feel myself die a little fuckin' more. There, is that enough for you? Are you happy? I've said somethin'."

"For Christ sakes Dean, I'm trying to help – ,"

The arms folded tighter,

"Who fuckin' asked you to?"

"No one did damn it, but you're my friend and I love your cranky ass and I hate when you're anything other than okay. So regardless of whether you like it or not, I will always ask after you and I will always worry because that's what brothers – that's what family – does."

There was a momentary pause as Dean drank in the statement and for a second, Roman wasn't sure which way his mood would go. He didn't regret saying it – he meant every word of it – but the last thing he needed was for Dean to hit the roof. Fortunately however, that didn't happen, as abruptly his teammate chuckled roughly at him and shook his head wearily,

"I've missed you man."

The admission was like music to Roman's ears and he grinned back,

"Right back at you uce."

It was a feature of their friendship that they had never really argued. In fact sharp spats were probably the closest they had got. But in the moment, having an actual squabble – and getting beyond it – seemed more intimate than bad. It cleared the air a little, especially in Dean's case and letting out a sigh, the younger man settled back.

"Take a right up here."

Roman did as he was instructed and as the hospital complex faded into the distance, it took the mournfulness away with it too. Beside him, Dean seemed to physically relax again and his resilience couldn't help but leave the bigger man in awe.

"You know she'd be proud of you, right babe?" he offered, unable to keep it to himself anymore, "She would be so god damn proud of what you're doin'."

"Posing as a guy who's tryin'a hawk his organs? Pretty sure she'd have plenty to say about that."

Roman smiled slightly,

"That wasn't what I meant. But yeah – now you mention it – she definitely would."

In his reply he was aiming for humour, but Dean's dour tone brought him sharply back down.

"She'd probably be fuckin' right as well."

"You worried?"

"No."

Roman rolled his eyes at him and shot a look sideways at the defensively folded arms,

"You don't have to bullshit, alright? Not with me. So if this thing is getting to you – ,"

"I'll be fine."

"Dean."

It wasn't a sentence – just his name – but the tone made Dean's guard drop at once. Suddenly the arms were pooled in his lap miserably and his head was hung down so the hair hid his face.

"It's just – it's just a little close to home, y'know?"

Roman blinked,

"You mean the case?"

"The victims man," Dean hissed tersely, before shrugging mildly, "Never mind. I don't know."

"No, go on."

Dean sighed heavily and it was obvious that expressing what he felt was proving hard. He had never really been one for sharing his deepest sentiments and there were only three people who had been given that right. She had been one and Seth and Roman had been the others. Now it seemed there was only Roman left, which was why Dean finally spat out the sentence.

If he didn't it was possible he was going to go mad.

"Look, I know I'm just playin' a character and it's not really me, but it fuckin' could be. These guys? In another life, I could've been one of 'em and I just keep thinkin' what if that's how it's meant to be? What if I've just been cheatin' my luck so far and this time it's it – ,"

"Hey – ,"

"Ugh," Dean shook his head, "This is stupid. Just forget it,"

Roman frowned,

"No way, not this time – this time you're going to listen and I don't care if you're not in the mood. You ain't cheating nothing, you hear me? You've earnt everything you've got. These guys, do they deserve what happened to them? No. But they'll never even be half the man you are. Besides – the victims – they don't have anybody – ,"

Dean snorted wryly,

"So I do, huh?"

"Well we just got done discussing that you've got me now," Roman winced a little, "I mean, you know that, right?"

"I guess."

It was a tiny little shrug Dean offered – and grudging – but Roman took it nonetheless,

"Then there's Stephanie and don't look at me like that Dean, she cares about you. I mean, maybe not in a conventional way but you know she does. You're family to her."

"Like a distant cousin from a one-night stand?"

Roman smiled a little,

Humour was good.

"So? That's still family," he paused, "You've got Seth – ,"

Instantly Dean's face clouded straight over and he set his jaw a little in affront,

"Don't remind me."

"At least he's there."

"Yeah? For how long."

The question was one that Roman couldn't answer and so instead of replying to it and restarting their disagreement and souring the only recently recaptured mood, he settled instead for focusing on driving and finding where The League had taken Dean to,

"Where now?"

The grumpy blonde sat forward, watching the tall, neat buildings pass by. Leaving the shabbier districts of the city, they had come fully into the Upper West Side. Around them the sidewalks were crammed with wealthy people, sporting tans, manicures and toting designer bags. The businesses around them had changed also, from pawn shops and fast food joints to boutiques and galleries. Their big sleek car – which in The Battleground had looked incongruous – suddenly seemed once again out of place. Overpowered by gleaming white convertibles with German engineering and personalized licence plates.

It was just another neighbourhood he didn't belong in and he frowned in thoughtfulness,

"I think we're here."

"Yeah?" Roman replied, pulling kerbside, "Here?"

He seemed especially animated all of a sudden, ducking his head to stare up to their left hand side.

"I mean, I think they probably pulled off down an ally. They couldn't have dragged me out on the street here. Someone would've noticed somethin'. Why? What're you thinkin'?"

"This building here. Do you know who's got offices up on the first floor?"

Dean peered up at it,

"No, but let me guess. Mexican doctor by the name of Del Rio?"

Roman's eyes hardened,

"Got it in one babe."

Looking up again, Dean's eyes found out the typeface in the frosted glass of the windows above. It was accompanied by a large cardboard cut-out and on seeing the tanned features, his heart thumped hard. The thrill of the chase and the shock of what had happened were combining to overwhelm him.

That was the guy who'd swiped his blood.

"So it's him then?"

Roman glowered,

"Your god damn right it is – son of a bitch – and when the time comes, I'm going to put my foot up his smug ass, believe that."

Dean did believe it – he would never have doubted it – and the protective streak made his heartrate start to calm. Roman wouldn't let anything happen to him and nor – for that matter, although it pained him – would Seth.

All he had to do was trust in his teammates.

Easier said than done though, right?

Hope you enjoyed it guys. See you next week!