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

Roman flinched, feeling invasive fingers skirt along his overly-sensitive scalp. The cool brush of metal against his head was not entirely comfortable, the burning sensation aroused from the wooden splinters being painfully plucked from his head was ten-times worse. He was starting to regret his decision to come to the ER. Not only was he incredibly uncomfortable (with no pain meds, of course), his PA was a ditz.

"You must've taken a real chunk out of that bedframe, huh?" The PA chuckled, as if her hands weren't covered in his blood and thick oak splinters. "Your head looks like a war-zone."

Roman groaned. They'd already tested him for a concussion – it had come back negative, thankfully – but her voice was giving him an impressive headache. "Thanks."

She patted his shoulder. "Think of it this way. It could be worse. You could have serious brain damage."

"Yeah. I guess I got off easily." Dark eyes narrowed, knowing that to be one-hundred percent false.

"Well, this seems to be the last one." Plink. The last wooden shard fell into the dish at Roman's side. "I'll just clean out the wounds and stitch up your head, and then you'll sign some papers and be free to go."

"Finally," he breathed a sigh of relief, allowing his eyes to fall closed.

The nurse that was assisting his PA wheeled the cart with the wooden splinters off, before returning with a kit to stitch Roman's wounds. Roman watched as the PA made her way over to the trashcan, rid herself of her gloves, and washed her hands. She was humming an unfamiliar tune beneath her breath, probably trying to pass the time while still adhering to the rules regarding hand-washing in the hospital.

At that point, Roman allowed his mind to wander. If he focused on the task at hand, he was fairly certain he'd go out of his mind from sheer boredom. He wondered how Dean was faring with Seth. Vivid images of Seth attempting to murder Dean with a hypodermic needle. The sheer ridiculousness of it almost made him laugh, but that would be a bad idea, considering the klutz had a needle in his head.

The sound of scissors neatly clipping thread met his ears, and the PA set all of her utensils down. "How does that feel, Mr. Reigns? Good? Bad? Really bad?"

"Actually, I can't really feel anything right now." This, he imagined, was a very good thing.

"Good." She rolled off her second pair of gloves. "That means the topical ointment is working. It should continue to numb the area for another half-hour or so. When that wares off, take this."

Roman looked at the prescription uncertainly. "What is it?"

"It's 600mgs of Ibuprofen. The strength can only come through prescription, but it doesn't have any of the nasty side-effects of narcotics." She handed him a bottle. "Take this in a half-hour, and then fill the script."

Roman's entire body was aching, and he doubted the medicine would do anything, but he said, "Thanks."

The PA only smiled and went off to file all of the appropriate paperwork. Roman tried hard not to dwell on the fact that he hadn't seen the physician that she should have been working under. When she returned moments later with his release papers, he signed quickly and messily on the dotted line. He shook her hand, and then he was released from the ER.

There was a knock on the door, startling Dean out of his nearly-unconscious state. Shifting a little, he turned toward the door and yelled, "Come in, it's open!"

Roman stepped inside, looking incredibly relieved. "Sorry that it took me so long to get here. I honestly didn't think that it would take that long down in the ER."

"It's been five hours." Dean said, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "What all did they do to you down there?"

"The customary test for a concussion. Came back negative, by the way. Had to have my legs x-rayed. A not-so-quick cat-scan of the head revealed no damage. Oh, and I had twenty splinters in my head, too."

"That sounds wonderful." Dean chuckled softly.

Roman motioned to Seth. "How did it go between the two of you?"

A soft, wary smile came over the dominant blond's face. "Pretty well. Both of us are still alive, so…"

"Yeah, I figured I would've heard about a double-murder down in the ER. After the first three hours or so, I figured it was safe to assume he was listening to what you had to say." Roman said.

After a moment of silence, Dean returned to his earlier ministrations. Carefully, he worked his fingers through Seth's tangled, two-toned hair. Seth was practically purring under his careful attention, his head never moving from its place on Dean's chest. From the puffiness around his eyes and the shimmering tracks on his face, Roman could tell that he had cried, and he had cried recently.

Pulling a chair over from the other side of the room, Roman took a seat on the other side of the bed. He reached forward, taking hold of Seth's hand – always careful not to aggravate his injured wrist – and gently caressed the skin there. It wasn't an overtly romantic gesture, but then, Roman wasn't really known for PDA. Dean offered Roman a soft smile, trying to keep him thinking positive. In return, he got a grunt.

"Seth was asking about you." Dean confessed, looking down at their Sethie and kissing the crown of his head softly. "He wanted to know… about the locker room incident. Do you remember that?"

From the dark look on Roman's face, it was clear that he remembered it all too well. "How could I forget?"

"I had to tell him. He didn't leave me much choice, Rome." Dean sighed. "And I was breaking down, I guess. It really hurt… when he told me he wanted me dead. I was willing to tell him anything."

"Why are you telling me this?" The question sounded strained, almost pained.

"Because I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." Now that it was out in the open, Dean looked relieved.

"You're sorry…" he trailed off, confused, "You're sorry about what?"

He continued to rake his fingers through Seth's hair, listening to Seth's heartbeat. "It's not my story to tell, which I why I'm thankful that you're here. Seth'll wake up soon, and he'll want answers."

"Dean -,"

"He deserves answers, after all he's been through. Don't you think?"

"Dean… he's been through a lot. Are you sure that he can handle the truth?" A dark look came over Dean's face, and, despite his strong words, that was all Roman needed to see.

Finally, Dean offered, "I may not be sure whether or not he can handle the truth, but I know that that is what he wants and what he deserves. And I've never been one to deny him anything."

Around this time, Seth started to stir. Groaning softly, he gently pushed off of Dean and straightened up, stretching out his sore muscles. And then, slowly, his eyes came to settle on Roman. At first, it was clear that he didn't believe what his eyes were seeing. But then, a steady stream of tears started to pour from his eyes and he threw himself at Roman.

Roman was barely able to catch the blubbering submissive before Seth squeezed the life out of him, almost afraid that, if he loosened his hold, Roman would disappear – and he couldn't take that. He had already dealt with so much loss, betrayal, anguish, and heartbreak. Right now, all he wanted was for someone to hold him and comfort him. And Roman, though a tad uncomfortable, did just that.

"Thank you." Seth said, sniffling. Roman was rubbing his back, doing his best to make him feel better.

"What are you thanking me for?" Unlike Dean, Roman didn't really have any pet names for Seth. He wasn't fond of PDA and he left all of the terms of endearment to Dean.

"For coming back." Seth confessed meekly. "I didn't think that you would."

Dean shot Roman a knowingly look, causing the ex-football player to sigh. "Seth, we need to talk about something…"