Okay, so you've all been really patient, no more cliffhangers now, all the answers lie ahead!
Squeegee Beckinhime, I know I'm mean (but only a little bit mean!) You'll have to buy some of that horrible stop 'n gro stuff that they paint on kids nails to stop them from biting them!
Skovko, You can shout at them, not sure they'd hear you, but you can totally shout at them, I'd let you do that!
Mandy, Aww, thank you. I hope you enjoy the sequels and follow-ups as much as the originals.
Ohana1337, No, I love you really, honest I do! But I've got to add a little bit of peril here and there. That's half the fun, right?! Thank you for the compliment by the way, I do try and keep my writing up to scratch.
Ninjoy, Here you go, next chapter, hope the wait wasn't too agonizing! I'm glad you're so excited to read what's coming though, makes a poor little writer's heart leap for joy!
Rebel8954, I do love a good cliffhanger (or two or three) here and there! I'm super glad the story hasn't let up yet. Fingers crossed I keep you hooked until the end!
AngelOfDeathOfWrestling, I love how everyone is willing them to get there! They're hurrying, I promise. The boys are running fast!
Close To The Wire
If it weren't for a few – minor – niggling issues, then Dean might have assumed he was existing in a dream. Well, maybe not a dream, more like a nightmare, but it was so damn bizarre that it didn't seem real.
How could it have done?
He was tied to a surgical bed, stuck full of sedatives, with tape across his mouth and an Englishman on his head. As in literally on his head, with a meaty forearm pressing straight down.
Worse still, a maniacal Mexican surgeon was poised with a scalpel about to slice his kidneys out.
It wasn't real.
It fucking couldn't be.
Except for the fact that it absolutely was.
He was trapped in a basement, staring death in the eyeballs and despite the drug-enhanced, dizzying bewilderment, the entire scenario frightened him to fuck.
Every last inch of his body was tremoring as he wrenched and struggled and tried his hardest to get out. They were only leather straps stitched onto a mattress. How firm could they be?
The fucking things wouldn't budge.
Dean's entire body was drenched in sweat and it beaded down his forehead and stung at his eyes. His face felt like it had been placed in a furnace and left there – it was roasting – and he was gasping for air. The tape across his lips meant his mouth was out of action and so he was forced to drag desperate breaths through his nose. That was easier said than done however, since Barrett was pushing him practically face-first into the bed. His lungs were aching from the limited oxygen and he was grunting in dissent beside asphyxiation squeaks.
It was all too much for his system to cope with.
He literally felt like his body was going to burst.
As cold gloved fingers dropped down onto his ribcage, spreading out the tense and tender skin across his back, Dean flinched visibly and let out a whimper.
Barrett grinned down at him like a kid in a candy store and fuck if he wasn't enjoying himself,
"This is gonna hurt like a bitch, you ready matey?"
Dean braced himself.
He wasn't ready at all.
His head spun wildly and the breath exploded out him. Maybe he would get lucky and faint? In the corner of his vision, the scalpel moved towards him and Dean closed his eyes and clenched his fists.
"Dean?"
The voice filtered across to him at exactly the same moment that the door to the makeshift theatre burst wide. The eruption of noise was like a bomb detonating and it made him dizzy and confused all at once.
Beside him, Del Rio jerked back the scalpel, so that at least was a hell of a relief. Not that Dean fully understood what was happening until his eyes fell on two figures standing – guns raised – inside the room.
Seth and Roman.
Dean blinked at them silently, his addled mind trying to work out why the two were there. It took him a second, but then finally he got it and his heart hammered wildly.
Seth and Roman.
The cavalry.
"Get the fuck away from him," Seth ordered briskly, his gun on Del Rio and its point backing him up, "Drop the scalpel, drop it now and back away from him. Against the wall, hands above your head."
The doctor complied with pussy-like obedience and it seemed as though the color had drained from his face. No longer did the surgeon look swarthy and arrogant, he looked terrified.
Dean grunted.
Your turn doc.
Wade Barrett however was not so accommodating and nor was he about to go down without a fight. As Seth and Roman corralled Del Rio with stern glances, the Englishman reached out like a shot and took his chance. In the time it took for anyone to blink again, he had grabbed up a scalpel and had it pressed against Dean's neck.
Right up against his carotid artery.
Almost at once, the entire room stiffened and a burst of pure fury shivered over Roman's sight. Dean hadn't thought he'd live to see that again. It's presence was nice and oddly reassuring and as the big man's eyes slid briefly down to his best friend, they softened momentarily.
We'll get you out of this uce.
Seth's eyes were focussed entirely on Barrett and his gaze was eerie with intent,
"Put it down Barrett, before I put a bullet in you."
The scalpel edge pushed in a little bit closer until Dean could feel his pulse beating up against the blade. He screwed his eyes shut and grunted a little and Barrett increased the agony by grabbing up his hair.
"Can you get a shot off before I rupture his artery? How long do you think your boy here will last?"
"I'm warning you," Seth replied, as calmly as was possible, "Put it down before you get hurt."
Dean had to hand it to Barrett – very, very grudgingly – as there was simply no denying that the asshole had balls.
"So what? You guys cops? Is that what this is then?"
Roman glowered back at him,
"Yeah, we are."
"Want to add killing a cop to your record?" Seth chimed in again, "Life sentence right there."
Barrett shrugged,
"Well if I'm going down anyway – which I'm guessing I'm gonna be – then what do I have to lose? You on the other hand, stand to lose your buddy. You willing to take that chance and bet on his life?"
Seth paused,
"I might."
But when no gunfire was forthcoming, Barrett chuckled again and pulled Dean's hair even harder until he moaned,
"I fucking knew something was off about you Moxley. I bet you think you're a pretty clever guy? Bringing down the big bad gang on your own? Well the joke's on you because now people are going to die. Innocent people who need a kidney – all because you don't like us breaking the law."
He was talking to Dean – practically spitting into his hairline – but his captive was simply too out of it to take note. He could register the words and the logistical meaning but he couldn't make the sentence compute at once. He felt sick and confused and so hot he could barely breathe right. Every last part of him either hurt or burnt aggressively and his ears had joined in with an unrelenting buzz. Around his vision, dark storm clouds were gathering and it felt like his consciousness was stepping away. He fought to stay with them, he really was trying but it was all too much for him.
Dean was close to giving in.
In weary desperation he looked up again at Roman, finding out the features through his fast drooping lids. Again the bigger man gazed back at him achingly and just knowing he was there – that both of them were there for him – briefly brought back a momentary spark.
"Innocent people?" Seth spat back fiercely and – oh yeah – they were still talking. He'd forgotten that part, "What about the people whose kidneys you ripped out? Weren't they innocent?"
"What? Dosed up on drink and drugs? Those people were never going to amount to anything. They would have ended up dead in the gutter – we were just speeding that process up."
Roman growled,
"You're fucking sick."
"Aren't we all?"
"Not like that we're not."
Stepping a little closer while his attentions were on Roman, Seth was able to gain some precious ground. To enable his teammate to do the same thing though, he tried to draw back Barrett's focus with a laugh,
"So what? You're saying this wasn't about the money? You're just a good Samaritan. Is that it?"
Barrett smirked across at him, smug but an idiot.
"Call me Mother Theresa if you must."
As Seth's eyes flickered down to where Dean was lying, his heart seized up at the look on his face. Dean was barely on the fringes of consciousness. His poor exposed back frantically heaving up and down. His blue orbs wandered around the room lazily and landed fleetingly on his. For a second it was like he didn't even know him and the confusion made Seth's blood boil.
"Come on, it's over man, we've got your little friends and the whole department's on its way here. Better for you if you give yourself up and come with us quietly. Now fucking let him go."
The whole situation was becoming ever more fractious and for a second no one knew which way things might go. Momentarily, it seemed like Barrett might even give up – he was certainly starting to move the scalpel away – but then suddenly he smiled at them like he had changed his mind completely and Seth's heart spun,
Uh oh, no go.
"Sorry lads but going quietly ain't my thing. I always liked the whole blaze of glory deal."
"Barrett – ," Roman started, taking a step towards him but the Englishman snorted and glanced down at Dean, yanking his head up with such sudden hatred that Dean's confused brain wondered if it might break,
"Never fucking liked you Moxley," he murmured, then he abruptly brought the blade down.
Fuck.
It never even got close to Dean's skin. Two rounds apiece put paid to that.
Through his dazed and foggy eyes, Dean watched Barrett sail backwards, blood spurting out of fresh holes on his chest. The descent almost seemed to occur in slow motion and then the sound hit him in a new explosion of noise.
Bang, bang.
Bang, bang.
As Wade's body travelled earthwards it collided with a trolley and a metal dish of instruments erupted into the sky. It added yet more noise to Dean's buzz-filled hearing and it was such a sensory overload that it brought tears to his eyes.
"Stay there," Seth barked as Del Rio spun round startled, "Stay there, don't you dare fucking move."
In the sudden hush Roman crossed the room to check on Barrett while in the meantime, Seth darted to their battered brother's side. His speech came out at a million miles an hour and his cold hands fell on top of Dean and made him flinch, but it didn't matter too much because the two of them were with him and after everything he'd been through, that was just fine.
"Dean? Jesus. Dean, you okay man?"
Lifting his head gently, Seth peeled off the tape, unable to stop himself from wincing slightly at the sheer heat radiating off the older man's cheeks. As soon as his mouth was free Dean began inhaling, sucking in deep long breaths that made him cough. Seth's hands were on his back in an instant, rubbing between his shoulder blades and trying to keep him calm,
"Easy man, easy. It's okay, we got you. You're safe Dean. We got them. It's all over now."
The sight of Roman looming up beside him was all the proof Seth needed that Barrett was dead and he curled his lips up and nodded grimly, not needing any words between them.
Good.
Reaching over, Roman rubbed a hand through Dean's damp curls, palming him almost like a father with a child. Without any words he unbuckled the wrist ties before moving around the gurney to free up Dean's legs.
"Hold on man," Seth continued to soothe him, "We're getting you out of here – taking you home."
"Batt'groun?" Dean asked in a voice that crackled and was several octaves lower than its usual tones. He sounded dazed and completely exhausted and Seth pawed his hair and shook his head,
"No. We're not going back to The Battleground Dean, we're done there. We're taking you to your home."
"My h'me?"
"Uh huh."
"She gonna be th're?"
The other men froze and glanced up at each other, neither knowing exactly what to say. Dean's head was so creamed that he couldn't remembered she'd died a year back. How did they tell him? Fuck that. They couldn't. Neither of them wanted to see him break that way.
Eventually Roman sucked a deep breath in and cleared his throat a little,
"No babe, she won't be there."
Both of them braced themselves for a question – a why, a where is she, something like that – but in the end all Dean did was grumble a little and offer up a bewildered looking frown.
"Oh."
As Roman unbuckled the final restraint, Seth reached over and pulled Dean's crumpled shirt back down. As his fingers slid over it, Dean's battered body shuddered and Roman took his jacket off and draped it over him,
"Come on."
While Seth moved across the room to secure Del Rio to a water pipe – at an angle that pulled his arms roughly above his head for no other reason than fuck he deserved it – Roman rolled Dean over and slowly sat him up, bracing his friend as the drugs made his head spin and almost planted him straight back down.
"Whoa – ,"
"Alright," Roman grumbled, pulling him closer and then inching him towards the edge, "I got you uce, it's fine."
As Dean's shaking legs made contact with the tiled floor, Seth swept back in to offer his support, sliding in quietly beneath Dean's shoulder and bracing his weight as he straightened back up.
"Easy man," he muttered as Dean stumbled, "Nice and easy, we're right here."
But it was obvious that Dean was never going to walk himself out of there and so Roman and Seth settled for coaxing him along, trying to let him move his feet sloppily instead of dragging him like The League had done.
Thinking about it made Roman's frown tighten and he blew a long breath out and tried to calm down. Dean didn't need him to go off the deep end but it was difficult to stay cool with Dean half-hanging off his arm. Up close to his best friend the sheer heat was staggering, as if Dean's internal thermostat had been cranked fully up. At the same time the copper blonde was also sweating fiercely and as he moved at a crawl towards the metal staircase, a gust of fresh wind hit them and made him shudder from head to toe. Suddenly he was icy again and even with Roman's jacket he was shivering like mad.
They stopped to let Seth add his own jacket and the pause gave them a very, very brief respite.
"Nearly there babe," Roman growled at him softly, reaching over to Dean's skull and making them knock heads. Dean smiled back weakly and although it wasn't focussed, it was at least a sign that he was with them – however vaguely – and the sight of it made Roman's heart nearly burst.
Thank you god.
"All good to go?" Seth asked, tucking back in on the other side again and Dean looked round to meet him with clouded, sluggish eyes,
"You're n't dead."
"Huh? What would I be dead for?"
Dean shook his head wearily and waved a heavy arm,
"Bi' guy. Thought he mi't 'a killed ya,"
Seth's frown narrowed before he suddenly realized,
"What? Rusev? Hold on, you saw that?"
"Uh huh. Tri'd to get t'ya, couldn', m'sorry – ,"
"Nah, come on man. I was alright. It would have taken more than that guy to stop me. Besides, I mean, he was practically all fat. I had the whole thing completely under control."
On his other side Roman coughed somewhat pointedly,
"Oh really?"
Seth shrugged,
"Okay, so Roman might have helped."
The familiar repartee made Dean smiled wearily and Seth smiled back, pleased in more ways than one. Not only were they all there and all fucking living, Dean had actually been worried about him. That was new but by no means unwelcome and it seemed to mark a turning point for them all. It didn't matter that Dean was drugged and semi-conscious, Seth was still going to take it as a win.
The closer they got to the fresh smelling exit, the louder the wail of police sirens got. Stephanie had obviously followed Seth's instructions, or maybe the cleaner had reported a break-in to the cops? Either way the sound was deeply reassuring and Seth jiggled Dean a little,
"Listen to that man."
For the first time since they'd found him, Dean didn't answer and they realised that he'd suddenly got heavier as well.
"Dean?" Roman barked, grinding to a halt and watching his best friend's head loll onto his chest. He grabbed the hot cheeks and shook them in panic, "Dean."
But no amount of jerking did any good. Dean's consciousness had completely given out on him and had swept him away in a haze of anaesthetic drugs. He had fought, he had battled, he had willed himself to stay awake and while he'd been in danger, that was exactly what he'd done. But sandwiched between his teammates – no, scratch that, his brothers – the rush of adrenaline had bolted and left and he hadn't been able to deny it any longer. Besides, it was okay, Roman and Seth had him and if he'd known nothing else, then Dean had known that he was safe. Sleep was a very, very welcome state to be in and he let it claim him.
Safe and sound.
There, see? I'm not that mean, I saved him. Well, Roman and Seth did, but hey, I helped! Only two more chapters left to go on this one. Thanks for sticking with me!