Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Set during March 2014 when Dean and Roman were arguing and Seth was getting increasingly frustrated with them.

INTRICACIES

Seth twitched; he just couldn't get comfortable. He could hear an amused rumble from Roman who was supposed to be watching his beloved CFL on their hotel room's ancient television. From the loud splashing coming from the bathroom, Dean was still gleefully occupying himself. Usually, hearing those familiar sounds eased Seth into a really good sleep and fuck, did he need one. He was completely drained after a week of particularly exhausting travel, inter-team arguments and a series of matches that'd left him with more skin bruised than unblemished. That was part of the problem, trying to find a way to sleep without aggravating any of his various sore spots.

"Fuck," he hissed out.

A hand started stroking firmly through his hair, a wonderfully soothing hand. Seth cracked open an eye; Roman was still focusing on his football while purposefully raking his fingers across Seth's scalp. Seth let out a grateful happy whine and glimpsed Roman's mouth lifting up into a smile. Seth thumped Roman's thigh on principal.

"If that's the way you're going to be…"

Roman began moving his fingers away, causing Seth to try to press closer, a complaining noise aching in his throat. He was too tired to care about appearing needy, Roman had been able to relax him and make him feel comfortable. Roman chuckled but continued to run his fingers through Seth's hair. Seth settled down again, his eyes closed and his body finally at rest. He could feel his mind going that way too.

He was dozing pretty impressively when he felt the pressure in his hair change. Roman was still combing through it but he was also starting to separate chunks out, was he preparing to do some braiding? Seth made an inquiring noise but didn't bother moving, he was way too comfortable for that.

"You'll thank me in the morning," was all Roman told him.

Roman wasn't pulling Seth's hair uncomfortably, the sensation wasn't keeping Seth awake, so he just kept drifting further towards sleep. He'd thank Roman in the morning, maybe buy him breakfast. The Shield always helped each other out during moments like this, moments when the world might class them as weak or vulnerable. But even when they were at each other's throats, Seth trusted Roman and Dean; he trusted them with his life and with his vulnerable moments.

He was faintly aware that the splashing sounds from the bathroom had stopped and now the door was opening, allowing familiar feet to wade across scrubby carpet.

"I'd just tie a knot and be done with it," was Dean's considered opinion, amusement an obvious tangle in his words.

"No, you wouldn't."

Roman sounded so sure and Dean didn't disagree. Instead, the bed canted as Dean settled down on it, behind Roman probably. Roman made a quiet considered sound and Seth wanted to look but he was so comfortable he didn't feel like he could even lift his head. He could hear Dean murmuring to himself, the way he did when he was really focused on something.

"Comb's in my pocket."

"Of course it is."

Dean's tone was both mocking and fond and Seth could hear the pair of them kiss and fumble before Dean swore and complained about the killer comb out for blood that Roman kept on him for shits and giggles. Seth didn't hear Roman smirk or roll his eyes, but he still knew both had happened.

A quiet noise dominated after that, a dragging repetitive one. Dean was silent now, his breathing heavy. He was calm and comfortable too and Roman was rumbling in his chest, like a huge predatory cat, a panther curled up between them, beautiful and almost still for now except for his hands that were still weaving through Seth's hair. Seth was still settled on that perfect edge between wakefulness and sleep; he tried to stay poised there. He was so soothed by the way that Roman was playing with his hair, and by sensing the closest that Dean ever got to repose and by hearing how content Roman was. It was the most peace that Seth had experienced in too long because Dean and Roman had always bickered and bitten at each other but lately it had gotten a lot worse and…and Seth was not going to think about that while he was trying to sleep or trying to not quite sleep. Thinking about Dean's words deliberately hacking into Roman and Roman lashing out in response made Seth tense with fury, frustration and resentment. They were better than that and he was tired of being the glue, the bridge, the fucking United Nations.

So he wasn't going to think about it.

At all. Not right now.

Dean and Roman were currently happy, kissing and mocking each other without malice. Seth sunk gratefully into that brilliant thought and pretended it'd been that way forever and that it always would be. Sleep could do that; it could blur all edges.

Dean was humming now, a couple of phrases sputtering out as he rattled along a melody. Roman murmured something with a clear curl of amusement and Seth felt the bed move as a kind of probably-not-entirely-playful fighting started up.

"I fuck this up, it's all you."

"And you're always so good with your hands."

"I heard no complaints last night, babe."

Roman's reply to that seemed to be more noise amid clashes of teeth and Dean was panting, words popping out like fucking beautiful and work you open again. Seth frowned in his almost-sleep and tried to complain. But no words made it past his lips, only discontented sounds that Roman and Dean could easily translate.

"Don't strain yourself, Sleeping Beauty."

Dean sounded both sarcastic and serious, and Roman leaned down to kiss the hollow of Seth's throat. Dean and Roman settled down again and the calming noises started up once more. It became a peaceful background, helping Seth to stay balanced just on the right brink of sleep.

Eventually all was quiet and he felt something brush against his neck and jaw. He could smell the sugary soda that Dean always drank and feel Roman's hands holding him. He sighed and fell from his stillpoint without even realizing it. He slept well.

In the morning, Dean was snoring into Roman's chest and Seth really needed to piss. He got up, grimacing as stiffness and pain cantered through him. He felt mentally off-kilter too and full of sharp angles, the good work done the previous night all swept away. He was limb-heavy and half-asleep, squinting blearily into the bathroom mirror. His hair really was pulled back into a braid, he hadn't dreamed that part. He reached back to graze his fingers down the taut twists, Roman had done a good job, his hair stayed out of eyes when he moved. It wasn't Seth's usual style but it got points for practicality, it'd be useful when he next worked out. It looked good too.

He thought about Roman's fingers in his hair, the way he'd confidently woven strands together, how centered and serene Seth had felt as a result.

Shaking his head, Seth exited the bathroom. Roman and Dean's limbs were all intertwined. Something shifted in Seth's chest. There was a space beside them for Seth, for him to become part of that again. Roman's hair was braided back as well; it looked more complicated than Seth's felt.

The thing that Seth had been determinedly not thinking about the previous night felt close again. He tensed his jaw and tried to push away those thoughts because the hard lines of Dean and Roman's faces were soft and turned towards each other, and Seth had heard how playful and gratified they'd both sounded as they'd helped him sleep, touching each other, consideration flowing alongside jabs that were actually good-natured for the first time in way too long. They'd made steps forward, he had to focus on that, not the wearying inevitability of fights, in-ring losses, bridge-building and fucking frustration and exhaustion that he could just feel coming. It was making his head pound.

A thin blind was drawn down over the window. It wasn't quite light outside yet and the world felt like it was still smeared around the edges. It wouldn't be forever. Seth closed his eyes, trying to find and cradle that stillpoint feeling again. He needed it, he needed to...

He opened his eyes and resolutely sloped down to where he knew he'd find that feeling again. Ignorance and destruction be damned, he was becoming part of the braid.

-the end