Disclaimer: The author is in no way, shape, or form in any form of association with World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE), any of the wrestlers mentioned in this story, or anything else. I just wrote the thing. Please enjoy.

Sorry for the day late post! I'm actually finishing up my vacation and yesterday was our last day in Daytona Beach, but I made it up by typing 10k words! I'm sleeping tonight in Cartersville, GA, and should be home and back on a normal schedule tomorrow! Woohoo!

So, you probably think that because Dean got suspended that he's going to descend into his depersonalized stupor, right? Because, you know, being suspended certainly put a bit of a damper on the whole thing, doesn't it? The answer to both questions is a simple no if you were to ask Dean. In fact, he is actually still happier than he has been in a while, even if he is forced to sit near his family as the football game rolls to an end. He felt like he was on top of the world; he felt warm and like he was the King. More than once, people came and asked for a picture with him and he couldn't say no. Saying no would just be rude. He has absolutely no idea how many photos of him are going to end up on Facebook later, but he'll ask Ro if he remembers, that's for sure.

Honestly though, one of the best parts about all of this is almost every time he looked down at the field and spotted Roman or John, they would be near each other and laughing. The worst part, expectedly, is the fact that Madre and Padre are rather pissed off at him. They hadn't even looked at him thus far, keeping their eyes trained at the field as if they thought it would make him feel bad. It just made him feel all that much better, as bad as that sounds. At least they weren't going to make a scene. He kept Maria cuddled on his lap when no one was around asking for pictures, laughing every time she would pull on his pigtails and tell him he looked pretty.

When the game is over and Vamoose won, John and Roman are immediately coming over with big grins on their faces as they look at Dean, Dean just grinning back all the while. Roman and John's grins disappeared quickly, though, as soon as they find out the news. Roman looks enraged before the full news was even out, a dark look crossing his face that has Maria clinging to Dean in a touch of fear. Dean can't blame her. The first time he saw Roman truly angry, Dean was absolutely terrified. John, however, just looked… disappointed, but not surprised. Much like Dean had been, he had probably been expecting this. He made a short comment of being back soon before stalking off towards the bathrooms where a large group of celebrating players were disappearing.

Roman gently takes Maria from Dean as soon as his expression clears, kissing her temple to show her he wasn't going to hurt her or anything. She is hesitant as she looks right at Dean, silently asking if it was okay. Dean gives her a reassuring smile, relieved to see her hand delve into Ro's tangled hair after she takes in Dean's smile. He beams wider as Maria tilts her head against Roman's, patting his cheek with her free hand. The last thing he needed was for Maria to be scared of Roman because the elder brother had been furious about a situation Dean had caused.

Frustratingly but expectedly, Dean is denied his request to go home with Roman when Mom and Dad start packing up all of their things, Mom taking Maria from Roman so he could go get changed. It had been a small comment of 'Hey, maybe I can come over tonight to celebrate' on Dean's part and a snapped response of 'Absolutely not!' from Madre almost immediately afterwards. The look Mom gives him when he open his mouth silences him; a look that told him not to argue it right now.

Roman, John, and Randy all end up coming out together, Roman's expression once again stormy as he embraces Dean, whispering so no one could here for Dean to call him if he has any trouble. Roman knows how difficult Madre and Padre could be. Dean is nodding and kissing his brother's cheekbone as he pulls away. Dean is then bouncing towards Maria, cooing at her and kissing both of her cheeks as she squeals. Mom and Dad both give Dean a hug, Mom giving a strict request to behave himself. He nods again, backing away and giving a gentle kiss to her cheek as well.

"I'm going to be going out with Randy and his friends," John tells his parents, who nod slowly. "Shouldn't be out too long, we're just going to celebrate the last win of the season," he says this part to Dean, who just shrugs nonchalantly, cooing at Maria who is looking at them as Mom and Dad head towards the parking lot. John looks like he wants to say something else, but Dean doesn't look at him directly again. Last thing he needs is for all of the Cenas to be breathing down his neck over this, never mind the fact that he himself is technically a Cena.

Dean watches John pack into his car with Randy and two of Randy's friends, Cody and Ted while Madre and Padre lead the way to the car in complete silence. Pleasantly enough, this is also how the ride is spent. Absolutely nothing is said between them, the radio off through the whole trip. In fact, nothing is said until they get into the house and Dean is heading upstairs to change into his regular clothes. Even then, he is only stopped with a firmly spoken, "Dean." From there, he was sat down and the lecture he knew was coming begins.

The main thing that Dean can really get from this lecture is they didn't understand, which isn't surprising to Dean. Nothing against Madre and Padre, but they didn't always try to understand the things that Dean did. What they didn't understand in this case is why Dean would ever do something like he did tonight. They didn't understand why he would, more or less, prod the sleeping bear. They would ask him why and they would demand answers, but then they would just keep talking, their voices raising if Dean even tried to open his mouth to explain. Because Dean could. Dean could give them an explanation for everything.

But that didn't really matter to them, Dean had learned easily over the years. Madre and Padre, they weren't bad people, and they weren't bad parents, but they were far from being the type of parents that Dean needed. They loved Dean, but Dean had realized he would never be on the same level as John to them. No, Dean was a commitment they took on too early, too soon to know what it would truly entail. The worst part is they made it obvious that it was something they didn't fully think through without meaning to. They tried to keep him under control, but they put pressure on him before he even did anything. Then they wouldn't let him explain himself when he actually did do something. With John, they never tried to control him because they didn't think they needed to, and when he did do something, they let him explain himself.

Some might think that Dean is just jealous of his big brother. In truth, Dean was far from jealous. He was just more or less purely miserable that he was a Cena and not a Reigns. At least Mom and Dad and Roman knew how to handle Dean.

But right now, he was with Madre and Padre and they just keep talking. They just keep talking and lecturing and Dean can't explain himself, because they didn't want to hear it. "I-" Dean tries, once again, but their voices raise once more. He clenches his fist, ducking his head. The obvious thing that sticks out in them not letting him talk is they didn't trust him. They didn't trust anything that he said because he wasn't their precious John and he doesn't have anything to say that's important. They keep asking why, but they don't want an answer. They don't want something to apologize for.

He doesn't realize that he's shaking until they demand his cell phone and he hands it over. Once he does realize, however, it's all he can see. He didn't realize how much stress was actually in his system until he's staring at his shaking hands, feeling that stress creeping up the back of his neck. They tell him he's grounded, Madre and Padre do. They tell him he's not allowed to talk to anyone until they get this sorted out. All he asks is if he can call Ro and let him know. They tell him he has two minutes.

He's dialing Roman's number without really thinking, focusing too hard in keeping the shaking out of his hands and almost laughing because it's useless. They just kept shaking, but he manages to dial the right numbers and he manages to keep the receiver to his ear. He breathes slowly when he hears the ringing stop after the second ring and Roman's voice rings out with a "Hello?"

Dean doesn't know how long he was silent as he stares at his tremoring hand, still breathing slowly as he tries to think of something to say. What could he possibly say that would actually make Roman understand how angry Madre and Padre were with him when he only had two minutes? "Hello?" Roman repeats again, obviously anxious. "Dean?"

"I can't stop shaking," he whispers, his voice barely audible, even to his own ears. His clenches his hand into a fist and brings it to his forehead as he suddenly feels a hysteric laugh bubble up his throat, sounding in the silent kitchen. "I can't stop shaking," he repeats, the ticking of the clock ringing loud in his ears.

"Need me to come pick you up?" Roman asks, and by the sound of it, he's already up and moving, picking up his keys. "I can be there in ten minutes if you need me to be, De. Just give me the word and I'll be there."

"Please," Dean murmurs, looking at the kitchen door and waiting for his parents to come in and tell him his time is up. It's almost like prison, this is. Maybe that's where the idea of grounding came from. Or maybe grounding is where the idea of prison came from. Dean ponders this as he hears Roman tell his parents he'd be back soon, cooing a goodbye to Maria. "I have to go," Dean whispers after a moment, having heard one of his parents get up from their chair.

"I'll be there soon. Just be ready," Roman tells him, with no questions asked. Dean hangs up, giving just a split moment to compose himself before he's briskly moving past his father who had been coming to tell him to get off the phone and up the stairs.

He changes into something comfortable, pulling on a hoodie that had been Roman's that was too big on him now and still swallowed Dean – Roman had been a bigger kid in middle school before puberty hit him full force and let him drop over 20 pounds, but he had gained it back in muscle. He sits in his room, looking out his window and taking in the silence of the house. It was nearly a little past eleven o'clock when Roman is pulling down the street.

Dean goes into action quickly, grabbing his backpack that was always packed to go to Roman's and sprinting down the stairs like the house was on fire. His parents were in the kitchen, each with a glass of wine in their hands, and were startled as he barrels past the kitchen entrance and is throwing open the front door. He's out the screen door of the house before they can even stand.

Roman is walking towards Dean's house when Dean rockets himself into Roman's arms as if Roman was the only thing that could save him. It wasn't fair from the truth. Roman holds him in a tight embrace and Dean plasters himself to his brother and holds on. He can practically feel the heat of Roman's gaze over his shoulder, knowing his parents are at the screen door. He can only guess what they wanted to say to him, or Roman, or both. Dean knows just how often it was that when one of them got in trouble, the other wasn't far behind trying to get him out.

"I just wanna go home," Dean is whispering into Roman's shoulder, even though he knows Roman doesn't need a reason for Dean to come over. The Reigns would always welcome Dean home again, as if he was their own. As if he had never left their family in the first place. He just hates that he keeps dragging them into his family drama with Madre and Padre.

"Get in the car," he murmurs to Dean, and Dean doesn't need to be told twice. He's half-jogging to the passenger side and slipping in without looking back, or looking up.

He doesn't know just how long Roman is out there but Dean hears the muffled sound of voices, both Roman's and his parents'. He feels like he should be out there too, trying to explain himself, because he knew this had been the wrong thing to do. To call Roman and asking him to pick him up without telling his parents; to sprint out of the house without even saying anything. Like he said, the Cenas weren't bad people. They just didn't know how to deal with someone like Dean.

When Roman gets into the car, his expression is cold, but he smiles when he notices Dean is looking at him. Dean chances a glance at Madre and Padre to find them both red in the face, both looking rather angry. He looks down again when Roman backs out of the driveway. The drive, however, is not silent by any means. Roman is telling Dean, play-by-play, what happened in the first half of the game, and how everyone was extremely excited for the beginnings of playoff that would be coming in the first week of November. Dean listens and grins, feeling more than a little happy that Roman wasn't demanding answers immediately from Dean.

When they get to Roman's, they settle Dean into the guest room with no questions asked still, and Momma is already telling him to come have a muffin and some hot chocolate. Maria is already asleep, or else Dean would be having a bit of extra loving, but he didn't want to wake the little girl up just to have someone to cuddle. That's what Roman was for, after all.

So, plopped together on the couch with a blueberry muffin in hand and hot chocolate on the table beside him, Dean actually finds that his hands had stopped shaking and he was laughing at something Roman was saying. He felt warm and happy and on top of the world all over again, pressed tight against Roman's side and looking at the television where wrestling was flickering across the screen.

Dean doesn't know why he didn't expect for the party to be broken up quickly, really. But when there's a knock on the door and Momma is going to let whoever it is in, Dean is more surprised to see that it's John and Randy than he is to see someone had come for him.

"You okay?" is the first thing that's out of John's mouth when he sees Dean, because John was the one of the family that understood Dean the most. He understood that Dean had his moments, but it didn't make him a ticking time bomb. It was probably from all of the time spent with Roman, hearing the things that Roman had to say, and Dean was grateful that they hung out. Dean offers a small nod, but presses closer to Roman, who shifts to accommodate it. "Want to tell me your side of the story?"

Dean wasn't used to that. He wasn't used to people actually wanting to hear his side of the story. He does, however, start spouting off his side of the story. "They wouldn't let me talk," he breaths out softly, already moving away from Roman to give himself the breathing room he knew he would need. "We got home and I was going to change and they just. Sat me down and started their fucking lecturing. Just like always, just like they always do with me. They talked and talked, and they wanted to know why, John. But they didn't let me talk. They never let me talk. From the moment they decided I was old enough to know better, they decided that if I did something wrong, I would never have a good reason behind it and they don't let me speak.

"They don't treat me like they treat you, John. I don't know if you've noticed or not, but they don't. They treat me like I'm lower to you. Like, because I'm not their blood and because I'm such a fucking nutcase, that I'm just not good enough for that Cena standard. Or maybe they just are trying to make me to be just like you, but it's not going to happen. God, I'm so fucking tired of being treated like I'm a danger around you guys. I'm sorry I'm not perfect, All-American good boy like you. All they did is lecture me and talk over me and ask me why without letting me answer. All they did is project all their fucking stress on me like I can handle it. I'm fifteen, not fifty. I'm supposed to make my mistakes while I can. And I-I started shaking and they took my phone and told me I couldn't talk to anyone, and I called Ro and I told him to come pick me up."

"I offered," Ro corrects, out of all of that. That's all he corrects. He is looking right at John though, with a certain bitterness to his own eyes, like he wishes that surgery hadn't happened all those years ago. Like he wishes Dean was adopted into his family, where Mom and Dad treat him like he was blood even if he wasn't even from the same descent. "C'mere, baby boy." Roman's pulling Dean to him, and Dean realizes that he himself was crying. Warm salt drops are rolling down his cheeks and he allows himself to be pulled, burying himself into the security blanket of his brother. "I got you."

"Always do," Dean murmurs, hiding his face miserably into Roman's shoulder. How embarrassing. Crying in front of a Helmsley-McMahon; the same Helmsley-McMahon who had punched him in the face about a month and a half ago.

"This is going to sound awful of me," John starts out, and Dean feels Roman tense some, "But I have noticed. I just. I don't know how to mention it to them. Because they mean well, Dean. We both know they do. And even back then, to adopt you? It was a big step for them. And they love you, that's why they're so hard on you. But they're overreacting about all of this. They're pissed off that you got in trouble again, and rightfully so, but they're still overreacting. They know how you are. They know that you… You are different. And they don't know how to handle you. I'll talk to them about it."

Dean doesn't reply and it's eerily silent for a few moments, before Randy is speaking. "My parents are overreacting too," he tells. It seems to shock everyone. It shocks Dean enough to look up and right at the Helmsley-McMahon. Randy's arms are crossed over his chest in a defensive manner, but he was looking right back at Dean. "What you did? Hilarious. It was great, man. Honestly. It showed a side of you that no knew really knew existed. It made people realize that you're not just…" he waves his hand absently now, obviously searching for a word.

"A fucking psycho?" Dean offers, noting his how bitter and rough his voice still sounded, even to his own ears. Randy didn't respond to his words, he just continued on.

"Seth's actually really pissed off about all of this. Dad called to ask me to try and text him. Apparently, they had a screaming match before he just called Nikki and left." Sounds a lot like Dean's situation actually. He was just glad his side didn't involve screaming. "He wouldn't answer my texts either though."

"Why're you telling me this?" Dean questions softly, his eyes searching Randy's, the gray not seeming like the cold steel they had on Dean's first day, when that punch Dean mentioned earlier had happened. When anger had gotten the better of both of them. His eyes seemed warm now; warmer, at least. Dezn supposes those anger management classes were working wonders.

Randy offers a mute shrug. Dean half-thought that would be all that he would get out of the tanned male. "Because I know you care," Randy adds to the shrug. "And I know you and him are kind of friends again. I hear him and Nikki talking about you some."

Dean narrows his eyes at Randy, wondering if he was just pulling his leg, but would he really have reason to do that? "I'll try to text him, just to make sure he's okay…" is what Dean hears next, from Roman, who is shifting enough to pull his phone out of his pocket.

Dean doesn't hesitate in plucking it out of his hands though. "I'll try," he tells his brother, who doesn't even try to argue. Dean is slow with the process, but he manages to open a text message to Seth, and types slowly, because he just wasn't used to smart phones, okay?

Hey seth its dean randy came by ros with john and said that you had an argument with your folks and that you weren't responding so I thought I would give it a shot hope you're okay, is what Dean ends up texting, not even caring about the lack of punctuation or capitalization. He stares at the little blue bubble for a good five seconds, not even thinking about giving it back to Roman when a little "Read 12:05AM" pops up and a small gray bubble with a "…" in it starts showing. Dean finds himself staring at it until the reply pops up.

I'm fine. I just got really aggravate with my parents and I didn't want to deal with them anymore. I thought you would end up blaming me for all of this and it made me upset because we were getting on such good terms. Thinking they ruined that made my blood boil. I'm fine now, though. Are you okay? is what the reply reads. Dean is left staring at it for a moment, because it had been less than a minute since Dean had even sent the message that had taken him a good two minutes to write. He didn't want Seth to think he was mad at him because he took too long to respond.

He stands without thinking, tapping on Seth's contact and then on his number, pressing the phone to his ear. He heads towards the kitchen and to the back door. It's three rings when he goes through the door to the chilly backyard air. He doesn't think Seth is going to answer and he's ready to leave a message when the ringing stops.

"H-Hello?" Seth's voice answers, uncertainly. His voice sounds stuffed and shaky, like he's been crying and upset. It doesn't sit well with Dean at all.

"Hey Princess," Dean's voice rumbles out, trying to keep down, for some reason not wanting anyone to overhear their conversation. "I would have just texted back, but I am shit at texting. Like, that message I sent you took me at least two minutes to type, and I didn't want you thinking I was mad at you."

"Oh," Seth breaths out, his voice more breathless than shaky now, which makes Dean's lips twitch up when a voice in his head supplies the thought of I did that to him. "Are you okay?"

Dean ponders the question as he sits down on the back porch, pulling out his carton of cigarettes out of his hoodie pocket. "I'm okay," he allows. "Madre and Padre are pissed at me for getting suspended again and I'm supposed to be grounded, but Ro came and got me."

"Sounds like we're in the same boat," Seth murmurs, and Dean thinks he hears a door close as he puts a cigarette between his lips, taking a moment to light it. "I'm sorry you're getting so much shit."

"Not your fault, Princess. Nothing you should be sorry about. You didn't tell on us to Mommy and Daddy or anything," Dean assures, lips clumsy on the cylinder in his mouth before he's taking a drag. His system practically screams in relief. It had been so long since he last had a smoke. He had been so busy the past few weeks that he just hadn't had the time. It was so nice to feel that relief again. He hadn't realized how badly his body had been craving nicotine until now.

"No, but you're the only one getting in trouble. Brie feels like shit about it. She said that it was all their idea, but they weren't getting in trouble. Which is complete bullshit, by the way." It was almost cute, how disgruntled Seth actually sounded about all of this.

"I'm actually glad that they're not getting in trouble. They don't deserve it. I knew what this would mean and what could potentially happy, especially when your parents hate me so much, but I did it anyway. And I made a lot of good friends in the process. I'm more than glad that I got this experience and I'm the only one that got hurt in the process," Dean tells him honestly, listening to Seth's breaths in the silence that follows.

"You did really good," is what Seth says next, changing the subject. "Entertained a lot of people. Where'd you learn to move like that?"

Dean laughs, taking another deep breath. "I've always been known to wiggle around and stuff. Ro teases me for it, but it really helped out when it came to these two weeks of practicing with the girls."

Seth gives a soft hum. Dean can practically see him. Maybe he was sitting outside, just like Dean. Staring out into the Bella's yard or looking up at the night sky. Thinking about what Dean was saying or just thinking. "Is Ro doing okay?"

Dean takes another deep drag with a shaky inhale, hunching his shoulders some. He wasn't really sure. God, he was a terrible brother. "As okay as he can be, I guess. What with a new sister in the household and a little brother who just keeps causing more trouble. Mom and Dad have always been good at keeping a lot of the pressure off of him, though. Especially since the surgery." He pauses. "Mom and Dad referring to Patricia and Sika."

"Is that how you decipher them?" is Seth's next question. "'Mom' and 'Dad' are Ro's parents and 'Madre' and 'Padre' are yours?"

Dean didn't like the way that question was worded. He didn't like it being split into his parents and Ro's parents, because Mom and Dad were his parents too. "It's… It's not like that, completely. It's difficult. Like, like… Ro's parents are my parents too," he tells Seth, repeating what he had been thinking, "It's never really stopped in my mind, thinking of Patricia and Sika as Mom and Dad. Nothing against Madre and Padre or anything, but if I had to choose…" He goes silent, hoping that maybe Seth would say something, but he doesn't. "Madre and Padre don't know how to handle me. I'm a threat to them just like I'm a threat to your parents, but I'm… I'm not."

"You're not," Seth agrees softly, "You never have been." There's something weird in his voice, like he's remembering something that he hadn't allowed himself to remember in a long time. "You've never been a threat."

"I wouldn't go that far," Dean murmurs, taking another large drag of his cigarette, finishing it off and sticking the butt in the ashtray to his side. "I'm definitely a danger sometimes. But… But I'm a controllable danger, you know?"

Dean can almost hear Seth nodding as he replies with, "Ro does well at keeping you under control. It's like… One touch and you're okay."

"Yeah," Dean whispers, staring out into the yard. "I trust Ro. I trust Ro with a lot. My life, in fact, but that's not much." Bitter laughter. God, why is he so bitter?

Seth is quiet once more, for a few minutes. Dean's able to light a cigarette and finish half of it before Seth is talking. "I-I know you're having a shitty night and stuff, but… but there's something that I've been dying to know for years now. And that's… That's what happened?" It's just like why, that question is. But Seth's voice is raspy and rough, shaky. "I-I asked Mom and Dad a lot when I was younger, but they never gave me a straight answer, and I never got to ask you."

"You want to know what happened?" Dean repeats, staring up at the sky as he feels his chest ache, but he's not sure if it's his lungs or his heart or both. "I want to tell you, but I-I don't know how accurate I can tell you. I went through so much therapy, Seth. So much fucking therapy. I don't know what happened and what they put in my head anymore, no matter how many times Roman tells me. But at the same time, it fucking haunts me. It's like I know everything that happened, but it's through someone else's eyes that I keep seeing it."

"Try?" Seth whispers, his voice begging, "I need to know your side of the story, Dean. I-…" he breaks off, and Dean thinks he hears the slightest hiccup come from the other line. "Mom and Dad tried to protect me but I don't know what really happened and I can't stand it."

Dean honestly can't begin to imagine how much worse it probably felt, being on that other side and not knowing anything, instead of being on his side and knowing everything. "Okay," Dean breathes, "But… But you have to just let me speak, okay?" Seth is silent, and Dean takes it as an acceptance. "Fuck, it sounds so… so fucking bad looking back on it," he murmurs with a laugh that lacks mirth as he tries his best to remember. "And I'm apologizing beforehand for it. And I'll live my life dealing with this fucking guilt because little six year old me fucked up."

"Dean," is all Seth says, like that's all he can begin to think to say. Dean swallows and finishes off his second cigarette, putting the butt in the ashtray with the other.

"I… I guess I should start at the birthday party, right?" Dean murmurs, forcing himself to remember events from nearly 10 years ago. "You and Roman were celebrating, and there were so many kids around because both of you little assholes have always been amazing at making friends. So, I was sitting over by the fence, at one of the tables, trying to stay out of the way. Because you guys… You always dealt with me, you know? And I wanted you guys to enjoy your party. But…" Dean pauses, closing his eyes, placing himself into that memory. "There's… two sets of parents to my left, talking about me. One of them is saying that I must be shy since I wasn't playing with the other kids. Another says it's Middle Child Syndrome."

He's getting too deep in depth with this, even though he really did want to remember everything. It was best to just stick to simple facts right now. Just because Dean used to know these events like the back of his hand didn't mean Seth did. Hell, he didn't know anything about those events, that's why Dean was telling him now.

"Which is bullshit," Dean adds now, "because Mom and Dad, they never treated us any different. We were all level. We were the Three Musketeers, you knows?" He opens his eyes, pulling out a third cigarette and lighting it. "At the time, though, I felt extremely selfish, like even though I was sticking out of the party to try and keep from pulling attention from you and Ro, I still was. Then one of you would look over at me with this bright smile, and I would smile back, because you guys were all I had. All I needed." Deep inhale of his cigarette, his hands shaking some. He focuses on making it stop, but continues on. "Next thing I know, I see you… darting across the yard with this… elation on your face, man. I had never seen you look that happy. I wanted to know how to make you look like that every day, then… then I saw your parents. Your real parents." His breath hitches, eyes closing against his will, remembering that moment. "I… Fuck. I remember realizing just how fake our family was, you know?"

"Dean," comes that soft voice again, a sad whimper to that voice that Dean found himself grateful to hear again. That's all Seth says though, giving Dean that floor, letting Dean speak.

"It was… It got in my head, but I was so scared of making a scene, so I just…" he chokes out a laugh as he takes a jerky inhale of smoke. "I decided I was gonna go clear my mind. Go for a walk and come back and play it off like I had been in the bathroom if anyone asked. So, I snuck out the gate and my head got messy. I ran after that. I just ran and I took a turn too many to find my way home and I just… housed myself in a tree, sure I would go to a different home when I was found. But you guys found me, and you took me home, and you dealt with me not talking to you, right? I remember being so scared, because I thought at any moment the same people that took me away from my mom's would be back."

"You tried to call your mom," Seth recalls suddenly, sounding like it was shocking for him to even remember. "Ro's parents, they told me and Ro to just… give you some time. That you wanted to talk to your mom. Explained to us the morning after Ro carried you upstairs that you felt homesick. I-I didn't believe 'em. Not even back then. I-I knew something more was going on."

Dean doesn't realize how quickly his tears are forming until he's blinded by them, blinking once, then clenching his eyes shut. "She didn't give a damn about me," he gasps out against his will. "I called her and I wanted to hear her voice and know she was okay, because she was my mom, you know? Far from being the best, but she… She had given me a roof, you know? But-But she never asked about me. She never cared, which just made everything worse. Because I never had a family that cared before you and Ro and Mom and Dad and I knew it wouldn't last. It killed me, knowing I was going to lose the only family I ever really had. It's like I jinxed it, especially when Ro went into surgery and we got split up. God, it was all my fault, Seth. It was all my fault and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I ruined our family and I'm sorry I'm the one that got Ro, and I'm sorry I didn't try harder. I'm sorry."

"Stop," Seth begs him, his voice broken, like Dean's. They were so similar, Dean realizes. It was like they had been tuned to each other back then, and it was no different now. "Stop blaming yourself, Dean. We were kids…" He sniffles, exhaling a shaky breath that begins a hiccup at the end. "Tell me why I couldn't see you anymore. I- That's what I need to know the most. I need to know why Mom and Dad said I couldn't see you anymore."

"I-I got locked up," Dean whispers, giving a tinkling laughter that sounded mocking to his own ears. "I was just like the rest of my family and I got locked up in solitary confinement because I had a breakdown and I-I destroyed everything, Seth. My room. Myself. I… I remember realizing I hadn't seen you in over a month and I remember missing you. I remember hoping you were okay, then remembering that you were all alone with a stranger for a brother and you hadn't been able to talk to me and Ro… and then I remember waking up in a psych ward. When I got home, I remember seeing Ro and practically begging everyone to tell me where my baby brother was. Momma was the one that told me that your parents thought it would be better if we didn't see each other anymore…"

Dean finally makes himself go silent, sucking on the butt of his third cigarette in hope of getting more from it, because he would go through his pack if he wasn't careful. He flicks the used cylinder into the ashtray when he realizes it was no good to keep trying.

"You were just a kid," Seth murmurs, sounding bitter, tears still thick in his voice. "And I-I hated you for so long because of it. I remember asking Mom and demanding an answer, when John and Randy ended up on the football team and I remember seeing you in the stands with Ro. I remember asking why you and Ro didn't look at me, why you didn't want to be my friend anymore. And she told me, it's not you, Seth. Dean just did some bad things and you deserve better. It didn't explain Ro, but it explained you, and I remember hating you for my entire 7th grade year and part of my 8th, until I cornered Ro and asked why he was still talking to you, when you didn't deserve to have friends when you had done something so wrong. He-He just gave me this look. He had this small smile on his face and asked me what I thought you had done exactly. And I didn't have an answer. All he told me was, 'Dean's only fault is having no sense of self-preservation,' then he just walks away." Seth gives his own mirthless laugh.

Dean pulls out a fourth cigarette despite his battle against himself not to. He lights it and is shaking when he hears the door behind him open. He looks behind him, seeing John standing there, giving him a bit of a pitying look that makes Dean want to punch him in the face. "I'm not going," Dean tells him, Seth giving a soft 'what?' in Dean's ear. "You can tell Madre and Padre that if you want. But I'm not going home."

"I'm not asking if you want to come home. I'm just telling you I'm leaving," John responds, giving a small shrug. "I'll come by after school on Monday and tell you how everything's going without you."

"Oh, joy, thanks," Dean states bitterly, staring at John. "But as much as I want to talk to you, I'm on the phone."

"Yeah, I see that." Still calm, still collect. "Mrs. Reigns asked me to ask you to come inside and stop smoking so much."

Dean tries to think of something snarky to say about that, but he feels uncomfortable trying to defy Mom. "I'm going to finish this cigarette," he bargains, even though Mom wasn't there. "Drive home safe, Kent."

"Always do, Mr. Wayne," John plays along, a look of relief staining his features before Dean turns to look out the yard. It's a few seconds before he hears the footsteps walking away.

"Should I let you go?" Seth asks as Dean does his best to finish off his cigarette quickly. Dean doesn't like the way that Seth words these questions. They all sound sad or terrible.

"No," Dean answers simply, putting out the cigarette with a fourth of it left, "No, I… I like being able to talk to you."

"Oh," Seth mumbles, sounding embarrassed. "I like being able to talk to you, too."

So, that's how Dean ends up talking to Seth until four in the morning, about everything and nothing at once. He ends up putting Roman's phone on charge around two in the morning, glad it was a Saturday and not a school day where Ro would need it. They talk about school and their families; their friends and their classmates; their favorite colors and foods they hate; and most importantly to Dean, they talk about wrestling. They only stop talking at four because Seth stops replying and Dean is left listening to his even breathing, realizing that he had fallen asleep. He remembers whispering a good night to the other male through the phone before hanging up and going to sleep himself.

They text sporadically the next two days, Dean on Roman's phone, but he spends a lot of his time busy with helping Mom or Dad around the house, generally babysitting Maria. Roman needed his phone a lot too, with how many members of the football team kept messaging him. Dean doesn't ask, but Roman lets him know most of the text messages were asking about him.

When school starts on Monday and Dad goes to work, it's just Mom, Dean, and Maria in the house. Not that Dean minds. It helps Mom a lot, who trusts Dean to watch after his little sister while she tries to straighten the house some. When Maria is napping, Dean does his best to help around the house too.

On Tuesday, Roman comes home and tells him over a fourth of the student body had organized a riot. Except this riot was quiet. It was held during the full school day and the students sat at the football field, not saying a word and refusing to go to class. No one was sure who organized it, but it had been of people who had known Dean well, or who had classes or activities with Dean. Roman admits to his mom that he had joined after his third period, but she doesn't get mad. She just nods with a small smile and asked him to help her with dinner.

On Wednesday, Roman came home and told Dean over half of the school were in the quiet riots now. He had pictures and showed Dean. Everyone was bundled up against the chill of the fall air, but they were mostly all sitting on the bleachers, the dance team sitting on the field, their hair pulled into pigtails, throwing up peace signs for the camera when Roman was taking a picture.

On Thursday, Roman is giving Dean a small local newspaper, where Dean's story is there and there is the story of the quiet riots. Roman has more photos, showing John and the football team had started passing out hot chocolate. There are teachers in the riots now, most notably Mr. Colter and Mr. Regal. Roman tells him Coach Ross is also there and Paul Heyman had been spotted giving snacks to Mr. Regal for the students, supposedly. He would never be caught directly involved in this.

Friday afternoon comes, Roman coming back, his cheeks still pink from the chill in the air, but he's smiling. He tells Dean that Seth and Randy joined them today; that Punk had a megaphone and was taking charge. He tells Dean that nearly all of the student had joined in the quiet riots now and since Punk was in charge, it was still actually quiet. Apparently, some of the guys had started wearing skirts and lip gloss. The small local newspaper had another story about it, as did a slightly bigger paper. Dean and Seth talk into the night again when Seth calls Roman's phone and requests to talk to him.

Sunday presents John and Randy, both beaming at Dean like they have the best news to give him. Turns out his suspension was over and he could return to school the next day. John had brought Dean his school things and more clothes. Dean was prepared for the next day.

As it goes, though, somehow the fact that the suspension wasn't going to be removed from his record got around. Dean and Ro arrive and park, only to be directed by none other than AJ Lee to the football field – after she nearly hugs the life out of Dean, of course.

Dean is welcomed back by everyone, including people he hadn't even talked to before. The dance team were quite nearly in tears over the whole affair, but Dean just pulls them all into a big group hug. He's half sure his face is covered in a mixture of lipsticks and lip glosses by the time he gets away. Mr. Regal and Mr. Colter both welcome him back enthusiastically, Colter having to break up a building debate between Mr. Regal and Dean about just how stupid Dean's decision had been.

Ro hadn't been lying though. Punk was in fact in control. Everyone was still sitting on the bleaches, a lot of which also sat on the running track as well, some on the field. They were all allowed to talk until the bell rang, then Punk turns on his megaphone and speaks as softly into it as he can.

"If you can hear my voice, please clap once and close your mouth." A great majority of the students clap, it going eerily silent. "If you can hear my voice, please clap twice and close your mouth." Everyone claps and the silence continues. "If you can hear my voice, please clap three times and keep your mouths shut." Three claps, Dean amazed at just how much power Punk really had. "Good. Good, this is good. Much better than Friday. I'm so proud. Silent applause, please, for yourselves." The dance team – sitting on the field behind Punk with what seems to be the cheerleaders – all raise their hands and wiggle their fingers. Everyone follows their lead.

It was an experience to have, honestly. Dean is shocked at just how quiet a large group of teenagers can truly keep when united by a cause. The majority of the student council end up joining the dance team on the field, where Dean is invited up to sit with them. About an hour into the quiet riot, Seth, Nikki, John, and Randy all show up with what look to be little bags of goodies – tons of them. There were enough for everyone. They had little bags of chips in them, candy, and little buttons that say Member of the Quiet Riot. Dean would laugh, if he didn't want to cause a ripple effect. Nikki and Seth both end up sitting on the field as well, Seth sitting right at Dean's side and offering him the bag of goodies with a small smile. Dean takes it with a smile of his own.

For it to be nearly eight hours of silence, time passes surprisingly fast through all of this. Just because there was relative silence doesn't mean it was boring. More often than not, there would be a five minute period of noise every hour, then lunch time was a talk allowed period. During the noise break, the cheerleaders would lead a cheer or the dance team would perform a dance. During the noise break, Punk would lead a loud chant. And even though they weren't allowed to talk, a lot of students texted on their phones, all the devices on silent. Some listened to music with their headphones in. Some ised the time to study.

It was a week of this – a week of this truly spiritual experience – before an announcement came on Friday afternoon. Paul Heyman had come out of the back doors of the school and rushed over to Punk, muttering something in his ear. It was a brief discussion before Punk is sounding out the siren on his megaphone, AJ mimicking him quickly – AJ had gotten a megaphone on Wednesday; Dean was pretty jealous. As AJ's siren continues to wail, Punk is making the announcement loudly through his megaphone.

"The suspension has been revoked. The quiet riot of the century has been a success!" He shouts into his megaphone. The stands, which had been tense while they waited for the news, explode into loud applause and cheers. Dean gets goosebumps and grins as Punk is pulling him to his feet, raising his hand up like he had just won a wrestling match.

They thought they might have been home free for the day, really. Dean and Roman were messing around as they were heading towards the parking lot with the rest of the student body when Hunter is coming out of the door in front of them. Roman is immediately tensing, his eyes sizing up the older man and clenching his jaw as he meets their Vice Principal's eyes. They aren't… unkind, not really. They're strict, but they seem to be seeing Dean in an entirely different light than they had a month ago. Dean doesn't know if that's a good thing or not. Hunter doesn't waste time, though, just tells him he needs to come to his office, that there was someone who wanted to talk to him.

Roman tells Dean that he would be waiting in the car. Dean can do nothing more than agree, plopping a kiss to Roman's temple without hesitation. He's getting up to Roman's height now – hell, he might even pass him up. How amazing would that be?

Dean's lead into the office and into Stephanie's office, but is surprised to find an older man sitting in her chair, her standing to the side with her hands folded behind her back. "Sit down, Mr. Cena," the man says, his voice rough but not unkind, throwing Dean off. Dean does as he's told with hesitation, glancing over to where Hunter had gone to stand by Stephanie. "I'm taking it you have absolutely no idea who I am."

"No sir," Dean replies, his voice smaller, because he has a bad feeling about who this man was. If Stephanie was standing to the side…

"My name, Mr. Cena, is Vincent Kennedy McMahon." The name makes Dean's mouth go dry. "I'm sure you've heard my name before, if only because it is in the name of the school you attend." Dean nods mutely and the not unkind look on Mr. McMahon's face twists some as he smiles, his eyes calculating. "You see, Mr. Cena, I'm actually here to talk about these… quiet riots that had gone on these past two weeks. It was… quite the organized crime, if I do say so myself." Dean stares right him, almost scared to blink. "And I'm just wondering how you managed to do it."

The words throw Dean off, because he didn't. He didn't do it. He barely knows how to text, but he can't expect anyone besides Roman – and Seth – to know that. Dean opens his mouth to speak, half expecting to be interrupted, but Mr. McMahon is looking at him with that same calculating look in his eyes. "I-" his voice cracks, he clears it, shifting in his chair. "I… didn't, sir." It was the truth, but it comes out feeble, Dean's brow knitting in confusion when he realizes that… Yeah, the riots were organized past the point of being something random. "I mean, I wish I did, but I didn't."

"You wish you did?" Mr. McMahon repeats, leaning back in the chair to level Dean with eyes that were slightly less calculating. "You're going to have to forgive me, Mr. Cena, for not believing you didn't do this."

"Sir," Dean says slowly, "Mr. McMahon, I own a flip phone from 2004 that was taken away from me the Friday night I was suspended. I left my house that night and have spent the last two weeks with a friend. He owns an iPhone, and I used it, but it takes me 10 seconds to type one word on it. I didn't even know the riots were happening until my friend came home and told me. But believe me, sir, when I say I wouldn't be quiet about this if I was the one to have done it. This is… This is big, that was one of the most… inspirational thing I have ever been a part of. And for it to be for me? I felt like I was placed into a movie." He clears his throat, building up his confidence. "But, sir, while we are not on a… friendly level, I would prefer it if you called me Dean. I'm about as much a Cena as I am a McMahon, which is, obviously, not at all."

Mr. McMahon gives a short hum, his look turning thoughtful as he surveys Dean. "So you didn't do it?" He repeats Dean's words back to him. Dean shakes his head. "And you have no idea who did it?" Dean shakes his head again. "And why should I trust you?"

"I have absolutely nothing to lie about, sir," Dean states. "I was already suspended, and I was expecting to be expelled. Mr. and Mrs. Helmsley-McMahon here have been trying to get rid of me since I got here and I thought this would be the tipping point. I… My best friend tells me that my only fault is that I have no sense of self-preservation. I don't care about getting hurt myself if that means everyone else is okay."

"That's a dangerous way to live, Dean," Mr. McMahon comments, but he has this pleased look on his face. "Hunter, Stephanie, may I have a minute alone with Dean here?"

"Dad, I don't know if that's a very good idea…" Stephanie tries immediately, but Mr. McMahon is waving her off.

"Just a few minutes, that's all I need," he assures. Hunter and Stephanie both hesitate for a split moment. "I said give me a few minutes, damn it!" Mr. McMahon snaps, startling Dean. Stephanie and Hunter both move quickly towards the door, however. Apparently that's all that took. As soon as the door closes, Vince focuses on Dean again. "So, Dean, what are your plans for after school?"

That's… the last thing that he had been expecting. Dean feels like he's been caught red-handed or something, but he is floundering to answer so Mr. McMahon doesn't yell at him. "I-I don't have much plans for after school, sir. I'm more worried about getting through high school, but I think I want to go into professional wrestling."

"Professional wrestling?" Mr. McMahon repeats, seeming to think this over. "I could see that," he allows, "But I was hoping you would say something like law, or teaching, or politics."

"Politics?" Dean repeats, wrinkling his nose. "I don't think I would do very good in politics, sir."

"You're doing well in both student council and debate, and you're extraordinary at lying, Dean," Mr. McMahon tells him, throwing Dean for a loop once again. He still doesn't believe Dean, but he's giving Dean life advice anyway. "I see something in you that makes me think you could do significantly well in the politics realm of careers."

"I… Thanks?" Dean offers, unsure of what else to really say, perplexed. Mr. McMahon offers an easy smile.

"It's not a problem. I do think it would be best to let you get on your way, however, Dean," he says smoothly, standing. Dean follows suite quickly and follows the older man to the door.

As it opens, Dean looks out to see that standing with Stephanie and Hunter are their children, Randy and Seth. Dean smiles as he walks out, offering a small wave to Seth. "Heya, Princess." Seth gives a smile back, but the smile is short lived when Stephanie is already rearing up at the opportunity to put Dean in his place.

"What did you just call my son?!" She demands, looking fierce and angry that such a nickname had been placed on her little boy.

"Mom, it's okay-" Seth tries, but Stephanie is stalking closer to Dean, heels clicking maliciously. Dean finds himself backing up behind Mr. McMahon again, into the office some.

"You have caused so much chaos these past two weeks, Mr. Cena, and here you go again, stepping over your bound-" she is hissing at him, but Seth is raising his voice to cut her off.

"Mom! It's fine!" He repeats again. Stephanie stops and looks over at Seth, confusion etched on his face. "It's just something he does, giving people dumb nicknames. If I had a problem with it, Dean would stop, but it's fine. It's not a big deal."

"I didn't know you and my grandson were friends?" Mr. McMahon says, but it's phrased as a question. He's looking back to where Dean was coming forward slowly again; Dean not hesitating in eyeing Stephanie like she would pounce on him at any moment. Dean risks a glance at Mr. McMahon, then looks to Seth, eyes questioning if they were. Were they friends?

"Yeah," Seth doesn't hesitate when he realizes Dean is looking at him. "Yeah, we started talking some before he was suspended. Dean's a great guy. Definitely a character." The half-blond flashes an innocent smile.

"Not in the least bit surprised. Hell, I'm more surprised at how harmonious Randy and the elder Mr. Cena are with each other than you two. I knew there was something familiar about you, Dean. You have the same wow factor that I saw in my grandson here!" Mr. McMahon exclaims, clapping Seth on the shoulder and smiling.

"Yeah, we're pretty much cut from the same cloth," Seth tells his grandfather easily, looking at Dean with the same smile he had been giving him earlier. Dean grins back, feeling elated. Hunter and Stephanie both exchange unhappy looks, but they don't say anything.

"You gonna be home tonight, Dean?" Randy asks after a brief silence, Dean's eyes cutting over to him. "John's been planning a proper celebration for our last win of the regular season before the playoffs start. Not to mention it's, you know, Halloween." Was it? God, Dean hadn't even known… That means that he probably totally ruined AJ's idea for a Halloween costume contest. He'd apologize later.

"I'm actually gonna be going home with Ro again, so I dunno. If he goes, then yeah, I'll be there, but I don't think he is. His cousin's in town," Dean says with a shrug. It makes sense why Roman's cousin was in town now. They tended to love Halloween. Mom must have been really busy keeping an eye on Dean and Maria. Randy takes Dean's answer in stride, thankfully, nodding. "Tell John to cause some trouble for me, yeah?"

"Yeah, man, of course," Randy assures, giving a bright and sharp grin that Dean mirrors. See, Randy could understand Dean to an extent. Maybe that was another reason John was getting better with handling Dean. He could only imagine how bad Randy could get.

Dean was beginning to walk away when Seth speaks again. "Text me later?" Seth asks him, his voice a tad hopeful. Dean turns to face him, nodding immediately before jerking a thumb behind him.

"Should get out to Roman, but I'll definitely text you later," he assures, loving the smile Seth gives. Small, friendly, innocent. They're definitely getting somewhere. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. McMahon, sir," Dean adds, looking the elder man right in the eye and stepping forward to shake his hand. It's firm but quick. "I'll definitely look into what it takes to get into politics, and you'll be one of the first people I contact as soon as I find out for sure what I wanna do after high school."

With that, Dean heads off, hearing Stephanie give a whispered demand of, "Politics, Dad? Really?" when she thinks Dean can't hear. It makes the smile on his face grow ever more.

So glad I can actually start writing more Ambrollins now, tbh. Even if the buildup isn't what I hoped it would be back when I first started writing this. Hoep you guys enjoyed! Reviews would be great!

~Ash