I wrote a part 2 because I was sad. Enjoy?

It hurts.

It's a knife wound, aimed right at the middle of his chest, not deep enough to kill him, even though he wants to be dead.

It's agonizing. He hates that every time he breathes, every time he tries to breathe, blood spills from the wound, staining him, more physical evidence that he was never enough, because when you stabbed his brother (no, he's not Dean's brother anymore, he's just… just Seth), he wouldn't bleed.

It's not a physical wound, but it might as well be.

Dean is falling apart.

Sure, in his younger days he'd gotten along fine without anyone by his side, without anyone to rely on, without knowing what it felt like to be loved by anyone, to have someone notice his absence, to have someone help him through his worst days and tolerate him on his best days.

But that was so long ago, and Dean's forgotten what it's like to have a piece of himself missing, and now that it's gone he's crashing and burning, and even though Roman's still there it's like he's not, because the piece that Seth ripped out of him was large and sharp and jagged enough to cut away pieces of his stability, and he's forgotten what the word stability even means.

His body aches, bruises of multiple colors already prominent on his skin from the beating, like he was just a canvas for Seth to paint his hatred on, marking Seth's presence even though he's gone, he's gone, and he's never coming back.

Roman isn't any better, but even bruises look better on him, in some weird way Dean can't explain; on Dean, they just reflect his insides, all mottled and sick and ugly, a neon sign of how he's already tainted, don't waste your time, he'll just poison you too.

"Dean?"

Roman's voice breaks through the litany of thoughts swirling around in his head, and he realizes he's frozen in the middle of their hotel room, hands shaking, and his face is wet and he hopes it's just sweat.

"Are you okay?" It's an instinctive question; they both know it, as soon as Roman asks, because they're both the farthest from okay they can get right now, and maybe Dean's too selfish for his own good because only now has it popped into his mind that Roman's hurting, too, both physically and emotionally, because they both loved Seth.

Seth's twenty-eighth birthday had been less than a week before, and they'd given him so much love, had taken care of him, because he was always the one who kept them together and he deserved to be cherished, and Seth had kissed them both and told them he would never leave, and it was all a lie.

Dean takes in a deep, shuddery breath, pain curling through his ribs as he does, and shuffles toward Roman, who's sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean thinks he's about two minutes from falling apart completely, and if he's going to shatter then he might as well do it in the arms of someone who might be able to pick up all the pieces and put them back together, even if it takes forever.

He's falling atop of Roman before he knows it, unintentionally knocking him over so Roman's flat on his back atop the bed and Dean's sprawled half on top of him, and the hiss of pain he hears Roman make when his back makes contact with the bed makes Dean want to apologize for his very existence.

But he's forgotten how to verbalize a damn thing, and when he tries to speak, all that comes are tears. An uncontrollable torrent of tears, and he's bawling into Roman's shoulder, and he hears Roman saying something, trying to soothe him, but the words are unintelligible. He feels Roman press a kiss to the side of his head and stroke a hand down his back, and he loves Roman so much but now he's terrified.

What if the Authority has it out for Dean? What if Seth tells them his weaknesses, tells them how he falls apart without the love of his brothers? What if they take Roman from him, too?

He'll have nothing, and the thought of Roman joining the Authority makes him sob harder and clutch desperately at Roman, fingers digging into his skin and probably breaking it, and he's like a child whose parents have threatened to take his favorite toy away, but he can't help it, he needs Roman. Roman's the anchor tying him to this world, even more so than wrestling, and if Roman's gone then he'll just be little wisps of nothing floating away in the wind, and there'll be nothing left of him.

He's so, so scared.

"I'm not like him, Dean, I'll never leave, I swear," he hears Roman say, but how can Dean believe him when Seth had said the same thing just a few nights before?

The horrible truth of his existence, Dean's decided, is that everyone leaves eventually, because no one wants to be around a guy like him for the long run.

The knife digs deeper, and more blood spills.

When Dean sees Seth again, just a week after he'd attacked his brothers so viciously, Dean nearly breaks down.

Seth's wearing a fucking suit and a part of Dean still wants him, because Dean's never been good at giving up what isn't his anymore, because he's still used to it being his, and Seth's one of those things.

He's angry, of course he is. Seth had hurt Dean, had hurt Roman, betrayed both of them, after lying to them for years, telling them he loved them, that they were his family, that they were all he wanted, all he needed.

But his anger only comes out onscreen, and backstage he's softer, the weight of his guilt weakening him, and when he comes face-to-face with Seth backstage, it's all he can do not to collapse.

He'd just been forced to watch Seth talk about what he'd done to an arena full of people, telling the whole entire world that Dean would be dead without him, and they both know how close to the truth it may have been.

He'd been forced to watch Seth talk about how Roman and Dean never meant a damn thing to him, with his face colder than Dean had ever seen before, and his eyes empty.

He'd been forced to listen to Seth refer to them merely as "business partners," to hear him say he "severed a business relationship," and Dean could have sworn that once upon a time the real relationship they'd had, the one Seth had just been lying through his teeth about, had meant the world to Seth.

But maybe he was just gullible, maybe he'd just fallen for Seth's façade too easily, just like Roman, just like the rest of the world, and maybe Seth had been preparing for this since the day they'd met.

Maybe Seth wanted to tear him apart all along.

They're standing a couple feet from each other, and Seth's face is still cold, expressionless, and Dean tries to steel himself, too, not wanting Seth to see how much his absence has ruined him, how Roman has to be with him nearly all the time, now, to make sure he doesn't hurt himself.

He's too much.

Seth doesn't say a word, and neither does Dean, but neither one of them move, like they're both waiting for something. Dean, in particular, is waiting to wake up, waiting for the nightmare to be over.

He doesn't know what Seth's waiting for.

"I'll never forgive you," Dean finally croaks, immediately regretting it, because he knows, deep down, that Seth doesn't care, that Seth's happy to be rid of him.

Please don't take Roman, too.

Seth's eyes are still empty, but his lips twitch up into a smile, a tight-lipped one, devoid of any warmth, and Dean hates it.

"Good," Seth says. "Your forgiveness isn't worth anything, anyway. It's the last thing I would ever want."

He walks past Dean, needlessly bumping into him hard enough to nearly send Dean sprawling, and when Dean collects himself he offers Seth's disappearing back the bird, but the gesture is empty.

Dean leans against the wall, pushes a hand through his hair and lays the palm of the other hand flat against his wound.

He can feel himself start to bleed out.