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Dean can’t stop pacing. After watching *that*, he’s worried. Anything could be happening. Does he need to book a flight to wherever the hell they were? What state were they even in? Where the hell had Seth left their travel itinerary?
“Where the fuck are they?” Dean asks, staring at his cellphone. He’s tried to call Seth. He’s tried to call Roman. Their phones go *right* to voicemail.
As he paces, he can’t resist cursing at the sky. He doesn’t know who he wants to murder more. Samoa Joe for injuring him? Jason for knocking his partners off their game? The Miz and The Miztourage for attacking them?
“Someone’s gonna pay. This is *crap*!” Dean shouts, still pacing. He’s never liked the fact that their nearest neighbor is almost a mile away. He is grateful for this tonight, simply because it means he can be as loud as he wants.
Still pacing, he mentally goes through the roster. Matt Hardy? No, there was no way to guarantee he’d get Matt and not ‘Woken’ Matt. Finn? Not after that match. Although...he’s a good last resort.
He’s sure he knows *someone* but he can’t think clearly at the moment. It’s not something he’s ever consider. He was their emergency contact but that only applied if the company thought it was serious. Yet, he had no idea who to call when he couldn’t get a hold of his partners.
“Fuck!” Dean hisses, glancing at his arm brace. “If only I didn’t have *this* problem...”
If he had full use of both arms, they wouldn’t be in this mess. He’d be right there, knowing exactly what was going on. They say no news is good news but Dean hates being clueless. It’s bad enough that he can’t slow down.
He *hates* having to reach out to Finn. There’s no way to know if he would even take Dean’s call but he had to try. It couldn’t hurt.
One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Four.
Just as Dean's about to give up hope, the line clicks open and Finn's familiar voice fills the air.
"Ambrose, please don't tell me you're calling to lecture me for beating your boys. You know if the situation were reversed, you'd have taken advantage..."
"No, I saw what happened. Can't get a hold of Seth or Roman, so, before I book a flight to wherever the fuck you are..."
"You'd like me to check?"
"Please."
"Call you back." The line clicks dead.
Dean settles on the couch, choosing to stop pacing. His anxiety levels are high enough without the pacing making it worse.
It's not like he has a ton of options at the moment. He sits, anxiously drumming against the arm of the couch. Finally, the phone rings, causing him to jump.
"Hello?" Dean says, hoping his voice isn't shaking too much.
"Hey, Dean. Talked to Seth. His phone's dead which is why you can't get a hold of him. He'll call you as soon as it charges. He's okay. Roman's got a possible concussion but he'll be fine. They're taking him to the ER to be safe."
A pang of anxiety twists in Dean's gut. Concussions? Hospitals? Nothing about any of this screams fine.
"Thank you. Guess I'll just wait for him to call."
"You're welcome."
The line goes dead.
Now that he has an answer, it makes it easier to relax. He's still worried but at the very least, he knows no one is dead.
Dean finds it almost easier for him to be paranoid when he's alone.
There he sits on that uncomfortable couch, waiting for any news.
Before too long, he falls asleep.
He's woken out of a sound sleep by the phone's loud ringing. Groping beside him, he finds the phone and presses 'accept'.
" 'Lo?" he asks, blearily.
"Hello, Babe. Did I wake you?"
"Yeah but it's okay. What time is it?"
"Just after 1. We're finally getting out of the hospital."
Dean wipes his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He's been waiting ages for this call and he needs all of his faculties.
"Is he okay? Almost flew to wherever the hell you are but I couldn't remember where you were."
"He's fine. Mild concussion. He'll be back to normal in a few days."
"Oh thank God," Dean says, clutching the phone between his ear and his shoulder. "I'm not normally a crazy worrier but that looked fucking bad."
"It did. Big Dog almost gave me a heart attack. As you can imagine, we missed our flight but we'll be home as soon as we can."
"Love you, Rollins. Call me when you're rebooked."
"Love you too, Deano. Sounds good."
---
Dean wakes up to find Seth's arm slinking around his waist. After their phone call ended, Dean had taken his nightly dose of pain medication and reluctantly crawled into bed.
"Did I wake you?" Seth asks, kissing the spot just below Dean's ear.
"It's okay. I'd rather know y'all made it safe." Dean glances over his shoulder before manipulating himself so he was face to face with Seth. "We seem to be missing someone."
"He's licking his wounds in the guest room. Claims it's because he doesn't want to keep anyone awake but you and I both know he's embarrassed he got jumped by the Miztourage and Miz," Seth comments, pushing a lock of hair out of Dean's face. "We know he's stubborn. Also upset that he couldn't protect you. Couldn't protect me. He's the big dog- the pack leader."
Dean stops himself from rolling his eyes. Roman could be so macho. It's annoying. Just because you got jumped didn't mean you were any less of a man. People got hurt. It's a fact of life, and not a weakness.
Dean slips out of bed and tugs his green plaid pajama pants back on. Then, he silently walks towards the guest room.
Roman's sprawled out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He glances over, sees Dean and attempts to wave him off.
"Not going to work," Dean says, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Besides, you don't get to sneak in without saying hello."
"You're being a brat," Roman mumbles, glowering at him. "Maybe I just want space. It's not like we have to be on top of each other all the time."
Dean sighs. Of course, Roman would be stubborn.
Dean knows there's a chance he will face the wrath of Roman but it's a chance he's willing to take. If their roles were reversed, Roman wouldn't let Dean have a pity party.
Dean slinks to the floor, his back pressed against the wall. He pulls his legs into a half lotus and waits.
"What do you think you're doing?" Roman asks, rolling over to glare. He sighs, breathing rapidly. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"Nope," Dean replies, staring at his arm brace. He dusts off an imaginary piece of lint. "No pity parties allowed on my watch."
"You are going to be the death of me, Dean Ambrose," Roman mutters. He pats the side next to him. "If you're going to be stubborn, you might as well be comfortable."
Dean slowly makes his way to his feet. He winces, the force of gravity tugging his injured side in a weird way.
"Saw that," Roman chides, watching Dean stretch out next to him. "Am I really doing good by you?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asks, giving Roman a look that plainly says have you lost your mind?
"I want to make sure I'm doing right by you and Seth. Man takes care of his family," Roman explains, his voice barely above a whisper.
Not this again. Dean thinks. It's one of Roman's best traits but also one of his biggest flaws. His stupid honor.
"Every time you go out, you do good by us. Don't care about Miz or even the damn Miztourage. You're more of a man than the three of them combined will ever be. You take care of your family and manage to make it work," Dean whispers, his good hand fully tangled in Roman's hair. "Please don't let that idiot get to you." He manages to maneuver Roman so they're forehead to forehead. He leans in, kissing Roman, doing what he needs to do in order to remind Roman just how special he is.
The kisses grow faster and more furious. Dean feels Roman shoving his shirt up and running his nails lightly down Dean's skin.
This is the most intimacy Dean's had since surgery.
"Are you sure?" Roman asks, fussing with Dean's shirt. He's doing his best to be gentle, which is definitely something Dean can appreciate.
"Wouldn't have started it if I didn't want it. Can't go all the way but soon," Dean replies, nibbling on Roman's neck.
"Didn't think you meant that," Roman says, doing his best not to writhe as Dean keeps nibbling.
---
"This a private party?" Seth asks, standing in the doorway.
"It just kind of happened," Dean replies, staring at a sleeping Roman. "We can always spoil you later."
"Hmm. That could be arranged," Seth says, nibbling on his lower lip. He reties his hair into a loose bun. "I'm going to start dinner. Come join me if you want. We can let Ro sleep." He beckons for Dean to join him.
Dean slips out of bed and tucks Roman in. Then, he slips his good hand into Seth's and allows himself to be lead towards the kitchen. He's missed Seth. Dean also loves the quiet moments in the kitchen with him. Sometimes, being domestic is enough to inject new energy into things.
There's also a ton to get in trouble with in the kitchen.
Dean's pretty sure they have frosting.
-fin-