Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Murder, Threesome, etc.

It was at this time that Vince began to unload the items that he had brought along with him. Among these were a razor and shaving cream, a bottle of blond hair dye, a roll of gauze, and an unopened package of paper medical tape. He handed these items to Dean. "These are for you."

Dean inspected each of these items quizzically, before carefully placing them down on the bed beside him. "Thank you." A pause, "For everything. I don't know how to say thank you enough." Dean said softly. "Now, what's the next phase of the plan?"

"Here is your temporary new identity." Vince said, handing Dean a passport and driver's license. "It'll be good for about two weeks, just long enough for me to sort everything out. Your plane is booked to leave for Rio tomorrow at noon. Do you think you're ready?"

Dean smirked. "You kidding? I'd kill to get out of this junk-heap. I need to be back with them." And then, his face became painfully serious. "I know that Seth must be hurting... but Roman..." he hadn't forgotten about the hell he'd put his former dom through. Finally, "I need to be back with them."

"And you will be." Vince said. "Like I said, your plane leaves tomorrow at noon. Be ready. Hair dyed, shaved, and bandaged up. You need to look the part."

That's when Vince sold him the story of his new identity, Jonathon Good. He was an accident victim - nothing major, but convincingly banged up - that was going to Rio to visit his wife, who had been sent over there to receive top-notch medical treatment at a prestigious rehabilitation center. Vince had taken the liberty of booking his hotel room to be across the hall from Roman and Seth's. Having taken note of Roman and Seth's daily routine, he would most likely run into them returning from their morning walk around lunchtime. It was the perfect set-up.

But Dean couldn't help but wonder whether the plan was really what was best for business - to borrow a rather unpopular phrase - when it came to their relationship. Maybe it would be better if he just stayed away, kept out of their business. Seth, hopefully, hadn't the slightest about what had happened. But Roman... Roman had been the one to discover him, had seen his body, broken and bleeding, in that arena bathroom. He could only imagine what that would do to an already broken man's mind. Realistically speaking, he knew that it couldn't be good.

"I can see that something is on your mind, kiddo." Vince said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "What is it?"

Dean shuffled awkwardly on the bed, before finally forcing himself to confess what had been troubling him from the start, "What if they're not... happy that I'm back? I mean, Seth doesn't know... but Roman... I really hurt him. I don't know if I can forgive myself, let alone hope that he forgives me."

Vince nodded slowly, before shrugging. "You just have to trust that they need you... that they've always needed you... and always will."

It wasn't difficult to board his plane. It always amazed him how easily things worked when Vince McMahon was in the driver's seat. He'd turned to Vince when he felt that he had no other options, when he felt as if the world was closing in on him. Vince had helped him to make sense of the chaos. Vince had helped him navigate through the fiery hell that he had descended into - through the worst prison ever, the one that was within his own mind. He reached into his satchel, pulling out a bottle of antidepressants. The counseling helped. But what would really help would be to hold Seth in his arms... and to have Roman hold him.

"Can I get you anything, sir?" There were certain perks to being in first-class (Vince certainly spared no expense when it came to helping out his employees), and one of them was pretty attendants that didn't question uncanny resemblances.

"Ah, yes, actually." What he really needed was a bottle of wine, but that wouldn't mix well with his medicine. Instead, he ordered, "I'll have a bottle of water and... the chicken tortellini with fresh spinach and mixed greens."

She offered him a bright smile, before nodding, "Of course, Mr. Good. Your order will be out promptly."

Dean watched as she walked away, feeling his stomach growl for the first time. Turning back, he settled into his seat, and allowed his mind to wander once more. What if all of this was a bust, and Roman and Seth didn't actually want to see him? What if they didn't want him anymore? He didn't think that he could stand that kind of rejection. He'd come so far, done so much... they wouldn't even begin to be able to comprehend everything that they had done to ensure that one day in the near future, Dean, Seth, and Roman would be able to have a peaceful life again.

Picking up his phone (a disposable model, so as not to be traced back to him... at least, not yet), he dialed an all-too-familiar number, simply unable to wait any longer. He just needed to hear their voices. Seconds later, someone answered, "Hello?" This was followed by a long yawn.

In the background, he heard another yawn. The second voice, undoubtedly Roman's, inquired, "Who is that on the phone, Seth? It's two in the morning."

Dean could feel his heart fluttering in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice choked off and he found that he couldn't.

"Hello?" Seth asked a little louder now. Still receiving no answer, he said dismissively, "Must've been a wrong number."

Dean heard a distinctively sharp, "At two in the morning?" before he hung up.

Dean felt his heart sink as he realized he had missed his opportunity to speak to his two lovers... who seemed more than happy without him. This was when the attendant returned with his food. "Thank you." He flashed her a small smile... but he'd lost his appetite.