Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Threesome, Kidnapping, Threats, Possible Non-Con, etc.

One Week Later

"Hand me a bucket, Dean." Roman's voice was eerily calm. Dried blood was encrusted onto his bottom lip and his eyes were red and bloodshot. His condition had seriously deteriorated in only a matter of minutes.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, we're in our locker room in the back of the arena. Where the hell am I supposed to find a bucket?" His mind was elsewhere and he had obviously missed the serious note in Roman's voice.

Roman's chocolate brown eyes narrowed. "Do I look like I fucking care where you get the bucket from? I just need a bucket. Now." A thin rivulet of blood spilled over his cracked lip and dribbled down his chin.

Finally understanding the intended use of the bucket, a disturbed look came over Dean's face. To be honest, he hadn't thought that it was that bad. Sure, Roman had taken a hard hit from Show. He had gone down, eyes blown wide, clutching at his ribs like a man held the child that he thought he lost – carefully, but forcefully. It wasn't until he had speared Sheamus that he noticed Roman's behavior start to change. He was really hurt.

He was finally able to find a bucket in the shower room, flinching away as the rank smell of cleaning fluid assaulted his nostrils. But it was the only bucket around, so it would have to do. He rushed it back in to Roman, who snatched it out of his hand rather unceremoniously. Without uttering a word, he promptly turned his back to Dean and upchucked a sizeable amount of blood into the bucket. Dean looked away; Roman wouldn't want him to look.

"I need to get the medic." Dean said after Roman was finished. Roman set the bucket aside and wiped his mouth with the back of his arm, blood staining his tanned skin.

"No, you don't." Roman said. Once again, his voice was eerily calm. "I'm absolutely fine. It was just a minor little mishap. It won't happen again." But the lack of color in Roman's face told a different story.

"Roman – it looks like you just tossed half the blood in your body!" Dean exclaimed, his worry clear.

Roman narrowed his eyes. "I'm fine, Dean. Don't press the issue."

And then, a dreadful idea came to him. "Is this still about Seth? Are you still punishing yourself for that?"

Roman rose off of the bench, a little wobbly on his feet thanks to the amount of blood he had just lost. "Who said I was punishing myself? I deserve pain." And then, he added, "But I wouldn't do this to myself purposefully."

"Then why won't you let me help you?" Dean asked, just a little bit desperate.

"Maybe because I don't want your help." Roman retorted coldly.

And that awkward silence returned. It had been awkward between them ever since Seth had left and Dean could see the cracks start to form in their relationship. His heart hurt as he watched Roman pull his shirt over his head, barely able to contain a wince as his bruises were agitated. Dean's breath caught in his throat as he saw the colorful array of bruises that stretched across Roman's ribs. They were undoubtedly broken at the very least.

His chest was a dark purple, the skin dark and wrinkly where he had hit the grate by the Titantron a little too hard. When he realized that he was staring, he hurriedly looked away and allowed Roman to finish undressing. But his eyes were unceremoniously drawn back to the bruises that dotted his skin. It was a wonder that Roman didn't just keel over then and there. But that would have been a show of weakness and Roman was not weak.

"Are you okay, Roman?" It was the only thing that he could think to ask.

Roman blinked slowly, before he swallowed hard. Throwing his hair back with the flick of his neck, he answered, "No. No, I'm not okay. I don't think I ever was." And that was it. Conversation over.

Roman didn't want to wait for Dean, so he decided to walk the half-mile back to the hotel. It wasn't too chilly outside, but he still sank deeper into his hoodie as he maneuvered through the abandoned streets. He felt a little bit weak, a little bit vulnerable, and maybe even a little bit scared. Roman didn't exactly have a death wish. But if there was someone else walking the streets with him, there was little he could do to defend himself.

It wasn't until the hotel was in view that that fear, if it could even be called that, became a reality. A hand knotted in Roman's hair and yanked his head back, laughing as fresh blood frothed over his cracked lips. Roman coughed, unable to breathe as the blood rose in his throat. Still holding onto his hair, he spun Roman around and slammed him face-first into the wall. The side of his head split wide and blood oozed over his face.

He hadn't even had a chance to see who his attacker was. After Roman was disoriented, he started in on Roman's back. The black and blue skin was agitated by the grooves of his fists, and his body lurched forward with every punch successfully landed. He could almost feel his ribs breaking. The awful crack as his skin slapped against the wall, followed by the feeling of a vice crushing his chest from within, had become familiar to him.

"This is a little delivery from your personal bitch… or should I say, your former bitch?" The man snickered. "You see, he was very clear in his wishes. And, unlike you, I'm man enough to fulfill them."

Roman receded further into his mind, thinking that it was his fault that Seth had left and only able to blame himself. "I feel like I'm about to be sick."

The man smirked, a nasty look on his face as he took in Roman's bloodied state. "If only little Sethie could see you now. But, of course, he's too busy laying on his back, legs spread out, ready for me to fulfill him."

Not even knowing what he was doing, he spun around and charged at his attacker, spearing him to the ground. His already wounded head cracked against the pavement and caused him to see stars. But it was obvious that his attacker was much more affected. His chest was bleeding heavily, and it looked as if the wound had been caused by a long, thick object – maybe a fragmented piece of a hotel room door?

"You don't ever speak about Seth like that." Roman warned, his voice dangerously low.

"Aww, this is so cute." He laughed. But when Roman didn't join him, it hurriedly died away. "Oh, I'm sorry. Forgive me, but… I can't honestly believe that you think Seth ever loved you."

Roman's hard exterior cracked momentarily, but he quickly but his defenses back up. "Shut the fuck up, now."

"I mean, that's why your wife left you, isn't it? You're just too damn hard to love. But Seth loved you, I think he did. He loved you. But now, he just wishes you were… well, dead." His smirk grew nasty.

"Shut up!" Roman slammed his foot into the man's side, ignoring the blood that dribbled from his mouth.

"You're a sorry excuse for a man, Roman Reigns. Seth's lucky that he got out when he did. Because you never loved him, and Seth needs to realize there's so much more out there then some lackadaisical madman -,"

Roman cut him off, slamming his foot down on the man's face. "I said shut up!"

He slammed his foot down on the man's face repeatedly, but the effect was somewhat muted considering Roman's considerably weakened state. The spear had taken more out of him then he originally realized and now, winded, he was only able to draw a little bit of the man's blood to the surface. Alas, it didn't really have the desired effect. And when Roman was weak enough, the man took hold of Roman's ankle and tossed him down to the ground.

"A sorry, sorry excuse for a man…" he trailed off, his demonic smirk growing.

Roman tried to fight him off, but by now the loss of blood and the head wound were starting to get to him. He only had one choice now. He raised his knee and kneed the man between the legs, watching with sick satisfaction as he went down with a thud. Weakly, Roman climbed out from underneath him. Gripping at the wall, he started to shuffle away. He had put a considerable distance between them when a voice made him stop.

"Don't take another step forward." It was his attacker. Roman turned around, his eyes narrowed. "If you take another step forward, I swear I'll go back to that hotel and kill him."