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

There was silence over the line for several seconds, then, "We both knew that this would happen eventually, Dean."

As much as Dean didn't want to admit it, they had discussed the possibility of one of them walking out on the relationship before. It wasn't a particularly popular or comfortable discussion, but it needed to be done to insure that there wasn't an unhealthy co-dependence in the relationship. Even if Seth was their submissive, he was free to walk out of the relationship whenever he pleased. Just as Roman and Dean were able to walk out whenever they desired - and Roman had already acted on that, returning to the WWE and becoming involved in a storyline for the WWE World Heavyweight Title.

It was just that... even if you did have the talks, you certainly never wanted to think that they'd ever need to be put into practice. But with all the shit that had gone down recently... the shit had just hit the fan all at once, and so much damage had been done that any relationship salvaged from the wreckage wouldn't have survived for very long anyhow. And even though he could say this with some degree of certainty, it was still difficult for him to accept it. And while he understood that Roman had had more time to come to terms with things, it still hurt that he could brush it all of in such a nonchalant manner.

"I just..." he squeezed his eyes closed, easily slipping back into that original submissive nature. To submit to Roman felt like coming home after a storm, to finally find shelter from the rain. "I don't... I don't want to be alone... I can't... please..." he knew that he was rambling and he really didn't care.

"I've already talked with Hunter and he says that he has a storyline waiting for you for when you come home. He's also booked you first-class to come back to WWE HQ, where I'll be picking you up." And that was what had been so perfect about him and Roman. They just automatically knew what the other needed and acted on it.

"I can come home?" The raw hope in his voice, with the slightest inflection of fear, practically broke Roman.

"Yeah." Roman answered immediately. "Come home to me."

Dean let out a broken sob as the enormity of those words washed over him. He could come home. The very idea of 'home' with Roman was like balm to his aching soul, and he didn't realize how completely broken he was until that moment. It would be like before, before all of this had happened. He and Roman would be happy and Seth... it hurt, but they'd prepared for it to happen. They knew that it was impossible to sustain their kind of relationship with their lifestyle forever. But nobody wanted to think that it could come about so quickly. The sob turned into a sort of choked wail and tears ran freely, hot and heavy, down his cheeks. It was over.

"Don't cry, baby." And there it was. That small term of affection that carried so much weight... that one word that seemed to set everything right once again. But even if it was an incredibly simple command, he just couldn't seem to find it in himself to obey it.

"I know, I know, just..." he trailed off, sliding down the nearest wall and burying his face in his hand. "Just talk to me, please? Talk to me... tell me that it's okay... talk to me..." the sobs continued to come, even as Roman's deep voice rumbled over the line. But that was okay... it was just... okay...

Phil looked over the various color swatches laid out over the dining table in their apartment - he'd managed to narrow his options to three, but couldn't manage to choose between them. The first was a set of cool colors: light green, almost a lime color, light purple, almost like thistle, and light blue, like a powder blue. He was partial to that particular set because he thought that the powder blue color went particularly well with Chris' eyes. Chris had been amused by this, and he did like the color scheme (especially if they went with the outdoor wedding idea) - but he liked the second color scheme as well.

The second group of colors were warmer, and all from the same color group. It consisted of various shades of red: carmine, imperial, and scarlet. He believed that it would look particularly smart with white roses, against black tuxedos. Phil found himself particularly in favor of the imperial red, and had resolved to find some way to incorporate it into the wedding, even if it didn't necessarily make the final cut in the color scheme. Perhaps in the wedding invitations? They'd already selected a creme colored base with white and black embellishments and script-style font. The imperial red would fit rather well, in his opinion.

The final group of colors were classic, or, at least, that was what their wedding planner had said. It consisted of black, white, and old lace. Their wedding planner had shown them a photo of black and white roses (Phil didn't really put any stock in the language of roses - that black roses symbolized 'death' and white roses symbolized 'purity') and he kind of fell in love with the idea of a bouquet of black and white roses at his wedding. Chris hadn't quite fallen for it the same way that he had, but he also recognized that, if it was what he really wanted, he'd be able to convince Chris to see things his way.

"Still staring at those color swatches?" Chris teased gently, coming around to sit in the other chair, a cup of steaming tea in hand.

"Don't act like you've provided any help." Phil said, narrowing his eyes playfully at the older man. He shifted slightly, rubbing his healing wound through his shirt. "I just can't seem to make up my mind. This," he pointed to the third set, "would fit really well with the invitations, but this," the second, "would look really sharp, too."

"Okay," Chris looked them both over carefully, and then, "so, is it safe to assume that the first group is out?"

Phil looked it over a moment, then, "No, no, I still like that one too. Shit, you're making this worse!"

Chris raised his hand in a mock show of innocence. "Hey, now. You're the one that complained that I wasn't helping out at all." Looking over the three options for a moment, he finally said, "If you really want my opinion, I like the last one."

"You're just saying that because I really liked the black and white roses." Phil immediately shot him down.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Believe what you want. I'm just throwing my two cents in." He took a sip of his tea, before looking at the clock. "It's after midnight, Philly. You're never gonna heal if you keep pushing yourself like this."

"At the rate we're going, we're not gonna get married until we're a hundred and four." Phil said, exasperated. And then, he sighed. "I just want everything to be perfect, okay? And I just..." here, he looked down, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "I really want to be married to you, okay?"

Chris felt his gut twist painfully at that, and suddenly he felt like the greatest asshole in the entire world. "Okay. Let's get to work, then. Together."

The Next Day

Seth couldn't help but feel as if he'd just signed his life away. He looked at the contract that Hunter was currently filing, and felt his stomach twist painfully. "Is that all?"

"You are to report for work at six o' clock on Monday. It will be then that you will first be introduced to the WWE Universe as the newest member of the Authority." Hunter said, matter-of-fact. "Until then, here is your new room key. From now till Monday, you will bunk with Randy. New room arrangements will be made Monday."

At least Randy liked him well enough - or he did, now that they'd had their little discussion in Rio. He knew, however, that they were far from being friends. They were in a mutual conundrum, he and Randy, but that didn't mean that they had to go running off into the sunset together. As partners in the Authority, it was only a matter of time before Hunter had them turn on one another. After that, they wouldn't even be able to call themselves 'friendly acquaintances'. Absently, Seth wondered if this drastic change would come about in such a short amount of time. It didn't take long for him to be missing Dean and Roman.

"Will I have to fight them?" He asked suddenly. It seemed to him that now, it was a question that he could not live without knowing the answer.

Hunter had the nerve to laugh. "Didn't you read your contract, boy? I have the right to put you in any match, any time, any where." And then, Hunter's gaze turned dark. "You should really learn to read the fine-print, kid."

Seth hurriedly snatched back the contract, looking over the fine-print with a fine-toothed comb, as he probably should have done the first time. And then, "You have me booked for a match at Money in the Bank, and then a match against Dean at SummerSlam." He stated, matter-of-fact.

Hunter clapped him on the back. "It'll really rake in the bucks, don't you think?"

"Is that all you care about? Money?" Seth spat out, disgusted. "Is that all that you hope to make out of this ordeal?"

Hunter shrugged. "Something good has to come out of this PR shitstorm."

Seth stared down at the contract again. Admittedly, he hadn't thought that anything good would come out of it, at least as far as his relationships with Dean and Roman were concerned. Thankfully, at least, he wouldn't have to really deal with Roman - just Dean. And, of course, that hurt the worst. Because every time he thought about Dean, he thought about the dirty blond curled up on the couch, just staring off into oblivion. He wasn't concerned with the effect on him, but more the effect on Dean. Because Dean deserved better. He just did...

Dean lay on top of Roman's chest, body practically limp from their earlier activities. It felt different, being together, not hurting each other. They'd hurt each other viciously over the last couple of months, would forever bear the scars to prove it, but tonight had been different. Tonight had been about comforting Dean and reminding him that there was always a place for Dean in Roman's heart and his bed. And even as everything came crashing down around him, he knew that he was safe with Roman. And Seth couldn't take that away.