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

"Seth?" Roman called out, receiving nothing but silence on the other end of the line. Feeling an undeniable fear start to build within him, he tried again, "Seth? Seth? C'mon, Seth... this isn't funny. Seth, are you still there? Seth?" But for all of his efforts, he still received nothing. "Damn it!"

Dean had just turned on the car and put it in reverse, when he heard Roman's angered (and perhaps a tad frightened) exclamation. "What's the matter?" He watched as Roman ended the call and threw the phone onto the floor. "Did he hang up?"

"No, I don't think so. I don't think he had enough presence of mind to hang up. He probably just lost a battle with exhaustion and passed out."

Dean's hands clenched around the wheel and he pressed down on the gas pedal a little too hard. "We should've never let him out of the hotel room."

To that, the former defensive tackler softly wondered, "Do you even remember him leaving?"

A painfully tense silence stretched between the two men as both realized that neither had acknowledged the fact that Seth had even left the hotel room, let alone that he could be in any danger. Cursing violently beneath his breath, Dean roughly slammed down onto the brakes and shifted into drive, before tearing out of the hotel parking lot. Roman absently reached for the seatbelt, feeling a violent mood-swing on the horizon and not wanting to be one of the casualties left behind. Snapping the wheel back into place, the car lurched awfully, before straightening out on the road. And then, picking up speed, they started off to get Seth.

It occurred to both of them that Seth had called them when he could've called an ambulance, and that only seemed to make everything that much worse. Even after all that had happened, after everything that Seth had been through - feeling as if Dean and Roman didn't love him, feeling objectified at the hands of Ryback, feelings broken and defeated as his rape became public knowledge - he still trusted his lovers above everyone else. Seth could be lying in that room, terrified as the shock took over, but still trusting that they would come to his rescue. Because, like his knights in black, faded armor, they always did.

Roman was violently summoned back to the present at the obnoxious honk of horns, and he looked up just in time to see Dean storm through a red light. "What the hell are you thinking? Are you trying to get us killed? I highly doubt we can help Seth if we both get killed in a head-on collision!"

"This is our fault." Dean mumbled beneath his breath, a sort of manic look in his eyes. "All of it. This is all our fault."

"What?" Roman was a tad taken aback by Dean's sudden revelation.

Another violent snap of the wheel, and Roman was sure that Dean was going to dislocate a shoulder. "Admit it - none of this would have happened if we would have paid more attention and realized that someone was lying to and threatening him." Dean hissed. "We should've never let him out of the hotel room."

Roman shook his head, "No, that's not true. We can't micromanage his life. Even if he is our sub, we're supposed to love him, not control him."

"We should've seen the way that Ryback was looking at him, seen the way that Seth coward from him." Dean continued on. "We should've seen it, damn it!"

"Dean, you need to calm down. If you don't, you're gonna kill us both, and then who'll help Seth? If he's really out cold, he won't be able to call an ambulance."

Dean slammed his hand down on the horn, earning several hateful curses from the driver in front of them. "Calm down? Calm down? I don't know what you're talking about. I'm perfectly calm." And then, as if to prove Roman's point, he violently assaulted the gas pedal once more. "Try to call Seth again."

"It's pointless, Dean. He passed out - he wouldn't be able to answer the phone."

But Dean wasn't convinced. Rocking back and forth in the seat, forcing himself to take deep breaths, he managed a tight, "Just... try."

So Roman called him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Dean rocked back and forth in the driver's seat, his entire body trembling with a hurricane of pent-up emotion. There was no doubt in Roman's mind that Dean blamed himself, unjustly, for all of this. He could only see the negative, think of all of the things that they could've done better - he couldn't accept that some things were simply out of their control, results of situations that occurred long before they had even met their submissive. When the call went to voicemail, Roman ended it.

Dean turned to him expectantly, the rocking coming to a sudden halt. Roman slowly shook his head, "He didn't answer." And that was all it took for Dean to break.

Dean was less-than-amiable to the poor receptionist, who looked to be close to tears after only a few minutes of attempting to calm him down. His loud, somewhat obnoxious behavior had started to attract a lot of unwanted attention from the other patrons sitting nearby. He was demanding to know what room Ryback had rented, and the poor girl - who continually attempted to reinforce the fact that she wasn't at liberty to disclose such information - was continuing to insist that nobody had checked in under that name. Dean was slamming his hands down on the front desk, yelling a mass of profanities at her.

Roman quickly made his way over to Dean, taking the dirty blond by the wrist and quickly pulling him away. After offering a quick apology to the receptionist, he turned to Dean, "What the hell do you think that you're doing?"

"She knows where Seth is, and she's keeping us from him!" Dean exclaimed, looking ready to break away from Roman and tear into the poor woman some more. "What if he's in there, bleeding, or dying, or dead, Roman? Who would be to blame then?"

Roman wanted to say Ryback - Ryback, who was the one responsible for all of this. But he refrained, simply because he was afraid of how Dean would react to the truth. "Traumatizing the poor receptionist won't help anything, Dean. Now... do you think that you can go and ask her about it like a reasonable human being?"

Dean frowned, his tone more than slightly accusatory when he forced out, "You make it sound as if this is my fault."

A sigh, "I'm not trying to make this out to be anyone's fault, other than Ryback's - and we don't have to worry about him now. Please... don't be difficult."

"Fine!" White hot fury burned in Dean's eyes, and Roman knew that this argument was far from over. "You think I'm doing such a shitty job? Do it yourself!"

Roman opened his mouth to make a comeback, but it was clear that Dean was no longer interested in talking. He had stormed over to the small sitting area, plopping down onto one of the sofas and crossing both his legs and his arms. He looked like a petulant child, sitting there and pouting because he hadn't gotten his way. But Roman knew that this was much more than that. The psychological damage that Dean had endured - even if he had never actually been raped - could, conceivably, be the most severe and complicated of them all. Dean's condition was unique, being the only one that hadn't been raped. That would carry with it a strange guilt.

Roman, casting one last look in Dean's direction, made his way over to the reception desk. "I'm really sorry about that. My friend is a little out of sorts."

"A little 'out of sorts'?" She snapped, furiously wiping at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. "He's out of his fucking mind! I told him that I'm not authorized to give out that sort of information, and he bit my freaking head off!"

"I know, I know. I'm really sorry about that." Roman turned up the charm, trying not to crack under the evil vibes coming his way from the despondent, angry blond sitting in the corner. "But I really need you to understand that a friend of ours is in that room... and he could be hurt badly."

With that, her entire demeanor changed. "Hurt how badly? Do I need to call an ambulance?"

Roman shook his head, "No, I don't think that'll be necessary. I just need to know what room he's in, so that my friend and I can help him."

Shooting a devious look in Dean's direction, she turned toward the desktop and placed in her executive authorization code. "Can you tell me his name?"

"I could, but I don't think he would have checked in under that name. I can give you a physical description, though." She nodded, waiting. "He's big, incredibly muscular... probably dressed in a way to show it off. He's bald, with blue eyes. He would've had a smaller man with him, with black and blond hair, and brown eyes."

It was like the light bulb went off. "I remember a man... I think he checked in under Kendrick or something like that. He had a man with him that looked to be unconscious. He said that he was sick and sleeping it off, but it just seemed... I don't know..."

"Off?" Roman supplied for her.

"Yeah." She nodded, before her fingers started to fly over the keyboard. "Here it is. Keith Kendrick. He checked into Room 2-12 with one other male last night."

Roman thanked her profusely, before taking the proffered key. Making his way over to Dean, he practically had to drag the petulant man out of his seat, before they started off in the direction of the elevator. The poor receptionist told them 'good luck', before turning back to wipe the remaining tears from her eyes. Dean had really done a number on them. A few seconds later, the doors to the elevator opened and an angry couple poured out. They were complaining about blood dripping down from the ceiling in their hotel room... That seemed to trigger something within Dean and, shoving past him, they hurriedly entered the elevator.

The doors quickly slid closed and Roman selected the button for the third floor. There was an awful lurch as the elevator slowly started to climb toward the desired floor. Even if it was only a climb of two floors, it wasn't fast enough for Dean. He was pacing the floor, shifting his arms from being crossed in front of his chest to grabbing his wrist behind his back. He was mumbling to himself - every once in awhile, Roman was able to make out something that sounded akin to 'Seth', but other than that, nothing. When the door opened, Dean raced out. By the time Roman reached the hotel room, the door was already open and Dean was already inside.

"Oh my God..." Dean trailed off, his knees growing weak as he stared at the scene before him. "Seth!"

Roman, who was equally disturbed by the scene before him, managed to force out a weak, "Don't go passing out on me, too. I can only handle one of you without an ambulance."

Dean was wading through the mess left behind by Ryback's demise, coming closer to Seth's mangled form. When he saw Seth's distorted wrist, he almost did pass out. "Quick - there should be a first-aid kit around here somewhere. We need to splint his wrist before we move him."

Thankfully, Roman quickly located the first-aid kit in the room's bathroom. He tossed the kit to Dean, "Here," and Dean quickly opened it.

Dean pulled out what looked to be two thick wooden rods and, placing one on either side of Seth's wrist, he taped them into position. Much to his dismay, Seth didn't move at all. Once he was sure that Seth's wrist wouldn't suffer further damage, he deferred to Roman. Taking that as his cue to step forward, he scooped Seth up by the middle and allowed the taller man's muscular legs to swing around his middle. Seth's head rested on his shoulder, his broken wrist swinging on one side, and the dislocated shoulder sitting awkwardly on his chest. Roman, making sure that their boy was secure, started for the door.

"Wait!" Roman paused, turning back to Dean. "What should we do about the body?"

"Well, you saw that couple downstairs. They looked pretty pissed-off. I'm sure they'll stumble across it sooner or later." Starting back out the door, "And by the time they do, we'll be long gone..."

A/N: So, is anyone else totally pissed-off about the fact that the Shield lost their tag team titles?