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

Several Hours Later

It was a much too familiar scene. Seth lay stark still on the twin-sized hospital bed, a thin white sheet twisted over his lithe body. The homemade splint had been taken off of his wrist, only to be replaced with a stark white cast that seemed heavy and think on Seth's pale, frail arm. There were several gauze pads on Seth's bruised and bloodied forehead, and an ice pack had been positioned at the crown of his head, where he had evidently sustained a significant blow. And ever since Seth had been brought out of the OR, Dean had never left his side.

A little while later, Roman entered the hospital room. His mouth was pressed into a hard line as he slowly stuffed his phone back into his pocket - it was clear that it wasn't something Dean should push, and that he was bound to learn the truth soon enough. Slowly making his way over to Seth's bed, he brushed the stray, damp locks away from the boy's forehead and stared down at his broken, battered form. It made him sick to think that they had been so blind to Seth's suffering... Seth was so worried about not being a deserving pet, but perhaps they were not deserving masters.

"That was Vince on the phone." Roman said, his voice low and terse. He continued to absently stroke Seth's hair, staring at the broken form of their lover. "Three police officers came to his hotel room back in Virginia. They found Ryback's body... but couldn't identify it."

"It wasn't mangled that badly." Seth had been good, only doing as much damage as he needed to in order to save himself. He hadn't crossed that fine line between the victim and the attacker.

Roman shook his head. "No, it wasn't that. He checked into the hotel with a fake ID, and he was found with that ID on his person. The only problem was that that ID was found on his person... and his DNA didn't match what was in the system. Instead, it matched a rape case from years ago."

"Let me guess: did it happen to involve Justin Gabriel?" Dean asked, following a hunch.

"Yes." Roman said. "His identity was confirmed as Ryan Reeves. But they needed a next-of-kin or emergency contact to inform of the death. Since there was no next-of-kin, they went to Vince McMahon, who is listed as all of our emergency contacts in case of accidental injury."

Dean held his head in his hands, squeezing his eyes closed momentarily. "Does he know that it was... murder?" The last part was scarcely more than a whisper.

"I think that that's common knowledge by now. Turns out, that couple we saw at the hotel? They work for the local newspaper."

Roman, finally breaking away from Seth, tossed the morning's paper to Dean. Displayed prominently on the front cover was the headline Promising Prospect for WWE Found Dead at the Blackwater Hotel, Murder Weapon Missing From Scene of the Crime. Beneath was a crude picture of the hotel room, displaying a grisly sight that looked to be straight out of a Stephen King novel. Bloody footprints crisscrossed the hotel room, and the furniture, perfectly preserved, showed the aftermath of a horrific fight for survival.

What was most disturbing, however, was the presence of Ryback's body in the picture. The artist obviously had not taken the time to pay any respects to the body - and, honestly, one had to wonder what the police would think of this journalist duo when they found out about possible tampering with the scene of the crime - as all the bloody, gory wounds were displayed for all the world to see. It made Dean's stomach turn to look at that picture for too long. When he'd first been in that room, he'd barely even noticed Ryback, he'd been that concerned about Seth. Now that he was taking in all that had happened, it was hard to look at.

"Is there something that you'd like to tell me, Dean?" Roman asked matter-of-factly, his eyes dark and cold.

Dean frowned, slowly raising his eyes to meet Roman's. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your thumb is cut." Roman said, taking hold of Dean's wrist and opening his palm, showing off the thumb that was sporting a fresh, angry looking cut. "If you did something, I want you to tell me. I can only help you if I know what you did."

"I didn't do anything." Dean's eyes flashed. "And I don't appreciate you implying that I would. We had nothing to hide."

"You're punishing yourself." Roman insisted.

"For what?" Dean's voice was raising, and Seth, even in his unconscious state, flinched.

"Look, I know I'm not exactly the 'comforting' type." Dean mumbled a hasty 'no shit', which Roman ignored. "So I'll just give it to you plain. Yeah, there are some things that I wish we would've done differently. And yeah, I feel like shit, just like you. But Seth depends on us. So don't make a decision you'll regret in the future."

Dean narrowed his eyes at Roman, suddenly rising to his feet. Even if Roman had several inches on him, he stood firm. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but don't you dare pretend that you know how I feel." He growled, blood positively boiling.

"Dean -,"

Dean shoved him. Taken by surprise, Roman stumbled back until he collided with the bed. Roman's eyes burned with a surging anger that he had never been very good at controlling, and Dean just had to push him, "What are you going to do, hit me? Go ahead. I know it'll make you feel better. Go ahead - hit me!"

And Roman did. He slapped Dean across the face, sending the slighter man tumbling back, only to trip over his chair and fall down into a messy heap. But Dean just couldn't let it go. Quickly forcing himself to his feet, he pulled out an impressive spear, knocking Roman into the foot of Seth's bed hard enough to crack his head open, only to tackle him to the ground and start to strike with abandon. After that first strike, Roman had done little to defend himself. In fact, he was letting Dean lay siege to his body, practically becoming a human punching bag for Dean to use and destroy.

Dean could see the amazing amount of self-control that it took for Roman not to physically tear him limb-from-limb. That, combined with the daze from the blood loss, made him the perfect victim. In the end, that was what stopped Dean. Roman wasn't fighting back, wasn't defending himself, and that made him a victim. If Dean continued to attack him, what made him any different than Ryback? Suddenly, Dean was off of him. Groaning, Roman slowly sat up and, rubbing his bloody head, watched Dean through hazy eyes. Dean was staring at the scars on his wrist, the one unbearably similar to the ones on Seth's.

His eyes flashed, and he mumbled, "I'm going to make this right. I'm going to fix everything." And then, he ran.

A/N: Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but here's the next chapter. I'm totally amazed and so thankful for the number of reviews I've received on this story. So, as a special little 'thank you', the 350th reviewer will receive a free one-shot of their own prompt. Thank you all again!