Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: T
Warning(s): Slash, Foursome, Daddy!Kink, Sub!Roman, Sub!Dean, Sub!Seth, Dom/sub, etc.

Dedication:katlove88

A/N: To fully understand this story, I feel that it is important to clarify now that I am going to be taking some liberties with the events that transpired on RAW 6-16-14. Instead of Roman tampering with Stephanie McMahon's coffee, he tampered with Seth Rollin's coffee. There is only a professional, working relationship with Stephanie and Hunter - they do not even have a storyline romance. Now that this has been cleared up, on with the story :P

When Roman came out of the shower, Dean was just finishing tying the laces on his tennis shoes. The blond offered his only remaining teammate a cursory glance. "Congrats on making it into Money in the Bank."

"Thanks." Roman said, not really dwelling on it. He roughly worked a thick, fluffy white towel through his messy black curls, before tossing it to the floor. "I saw your match with Glen earlier. How are you feeling?"

A broken laugh was his response. "Do you really even have to ask?"

"It looked pretty nasty. I just like to get my facts from the source, that's all." Making his way over to his gym bag, he pulled out a clean pair of boxers, loosely-fitted black basketball shorts, and a dark red muscle shirt. "Need to see the trainer?"

"You know that he'll find out if I do." Dean said distantly, absently picking at the tatters of his left shoe.

"And what the fuck does that have to do with anything?" It was difficult to hide the budding anger in his tone.

Dean slowly ran a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes closed. "You really haven't noticed, huh?" A pause, then, "Whenever we get our asses handed to us really good, the beating always comes twice as bad the next week. Don't you remember when you were laid out, coughing up blood in the ring?"

How could he forget? Roman would be the first to admit that it took quite a bit to faze him, but his body rebelling on him in such a grotesque and violent way had certainly made that short list. It had taken fifteen minutes for the trainer to be able to get him to his feet without the room spinning, and another thirty of laying down in a cool, dark room to keep what little bit remained in his stomach where it belonged. The next week, he'd been put in a match against "The Animal" Batista. Just a few minutes removed from his inevitable victory, the camera had zoomed in on blood frothing on his bottom lip and dribbling from the corner of his mouth. The pain had been unimaginable… but the betrayal of having his body exploited by Hunter to turn a quick profit? That had been much worse.

"It's memories like that that make me damn sorry that he didn't drink that 'special' coffee." Perhaps he should feel bad for causing Seth so much misery, but at that particular moment, it simply felt like overdue karma.

As if reading his mind, Dean asked, "Speaking of that, how do you think Seth is doing?"

"Considering the way that he wretched all over Vickie? Not good, man. Not good at all."

That he sort of felt bad about. It wasn't as if he particularly liked Vickie - he was pretty sure that that was the general consensus around the locker room - but he had meant what he said when he said that management (and the other WWE superstars, for that matter) didn't really treat her right. Vince treated her like she was a living puppet, strings held tightly in his iron-clad grasp. Steph and Hunter treated her like she was an idiot, and were not above using their power to walk all over her. Even Brad Maddox (before he'd been kicked to the curb, that is) had treated her like a second-rate human-being. Roman had just used that sentiment to his advantage, ultimately milking it all the way to a place in the Battle Royal and, in the end, into the Money in the Bank ladder match. She didn't deserve to have Seth puke on her, though.

"Hunter's probably gonna have your ass for that, you know." Dean pointed out nonchalantly. He didn't really seem to care, though. "I mean, he's been feeding us all this shit about how a 'storyline doesn't change anything' and 'family is still family'..."

"Yeah, and maybe I actually would have believed him." He remembered sitting on that couch, listening to Seth cry, and realized that, not too long ago, they'd actually felt like a family. "But he never mentioned taking Seth away from us. There is no room for secrets in family."

"Family also means that nobody gets left behind." Dean was digging through Roman's gym bag, tossing his spare stuff into it. He didn't feel like taking his own bag.

Roman raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that from Lilo & Stitch?"

Dean looked at him darkly. "So what if it is?"

At this point, Roman was slipping into his clothes, doing his best not to focus too much of his attention on the vacant third locker that they'd requested out of habit. "It doesn't matter." There was no use in overthinking what was already done and behind them. "Seth left us. He's gone. And it doesn't matter."

Now, it was Dean's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Doesn't it?"

"Our family is about one storm away from falling apart. I don't know about you, but I'm not about to stick around and see the whole ship go down. I say we get out. Tonight."

"Just the two of us?" Dean asked, eyes widening slightly.

"Like it used to be." Roman confirmed.

Yes, the idea certainly held a great deal of appeal. To return to the way that things used to be, before they'd come into the WWE and let Seth into the hearts, not realizing that he'd turn around and break them one day. When it had just been the two of them, touring along the south coast of the US. They could just up and leave the WWE - sure, there might be some backlash, but its not like Hunter had any plans to drive them anywhere but straight into the ground. They could head back to the hotel tonight, grab their things, and be gone before Seth and Hunter came back from the hospital. It was a short-sighted, dream-like plan… but it held unimaginable appeal to two men who had known nothing but misery for the past two months of their lives. It held a hopeful appeal.

Dean was silent for a moment longer, then proposed, "How long until we can go?"

Hunter and Seth returned to a dark hotel room. It wasn't the first time, and with their current storyline, he highly doubted that this would be the last. Hunter had his arm around Seth, hooking under his armpit to try and take as much weight on himself as possible. After being given anti-nausea medicine and being pumped full of water to combat the dehydration he had faced after hours of puking up his guts, a lot had been taken out of him. He looked like shit. Vickie had come clean after the show had ended - she'd come by with a bouquet of flowers and a hurried apology in that nasally tone. She'd explained that she'd left the drinks alone with Roman for a few seconds while she went to get cream and sweetener, and that he must've tampered with them while she was away. He'd politely excused her after that - her voice was giving Seth a headache.

Originally, he hadn't wanted to believe that Roman would want to do something so low on purpose. But as he watched Seth grow weaker and weaker with dehydration, he knew that it was a painfully real reality. He'd been mentally preparing himself for the showdown that would undoubtedly take place the minute that they walked through the door, but that showdown never came. The hotel room was completely abandoned. This in itself was unusual, as the show had ended over two hours ago. Dean and Roman should have been knocked out in the middle of the bed, dead to the world. Instead, their clothes, shoes, accessories, and suitcases had completely disappeared. Seth was clearly too far gone to notice, but Hunter mentally logged everything that wasn't where it had been when they'd left for the show earlier that afternoon.

Carefully, he led Seth over to the bed, before helping him onto the mattress and stripping him down to his boxers. "You just lay down and rest, okay? I'll be right back."

Seth watched him through heavy, half-lidded eyes. "Where're Dean and Roman?"

I wish that I knew, Hunter thought. Instead, he said, "I'll be right back. Is there anything that you want while I'm up?" He didn't want to feed him, because his stomach was still iffy. He was pretty sure that water would be okay, though.

"Can I have a drink?" Seth asked softly, before clearing his throat roughly. The fear of a repeat dehydration scare was still painfully evident.

"I'll bring you in half a glass of water, okay?" Seth nodded stiffly. "Promise me that you'll call if you need me?"

"Promise." He closed his eyes, and Hunter mused that he wouldn't be needed for a very long time.

Hunter made his way into the en-suite kitchen, looking over his shoulder every once in awhile to make sure that Seth was still okay. Looking around, he was quickly able to locate a generic plastic cup, and he filled it with icy cold water. Reaching into the little baggie that they'd gotten from the hospital, he took out the anti-nausea medicine and crushed it into a powder between two spoons. Dropping the purple crumbs into the water, he lazily stirred until the water was once again clear. When it came to medicine, Seth could be just like a child. And what he doesn't know, certainly won't hurt him. As he stirred, he couldn't help but think about Dean and Roman's unusual absence. Whatever the reason for their sudden absence, it couldn't be good. Even when they had disagreements in the past, things were never bad enough for them to not come home.

Without really thinking, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He dialed Dean first, listening as it rang for several moments, before coming to voicemail. "Hey, you've reached Dean. Leave your name, number, and your reason for calling, and I'll get back to you when I feel like it." There was a pause. "If this is a prank call, go fuck yourself."

Hunter couldn't help but smile. That was definitely his Dean. He hung up without leaving a message, thinking that it was probably better that way. Next, he tried Roman, with a similar result. "Hey, you've reached Roman. I'm away from my phone now… you know the drill."

He's not sure how he should feel about neither man answering their phone. He settles on calling for Seth, "Seth, how're you doing back there, buddy?"

There was a grumbled, fairly unintelligible response.

"That good, huh?" He tucked his phone back into his pocket and made his way back into the bedroom, motioning for the two-toned man to sit up. He did so, begrudgingly. "I need you to drink this, then you can sleep."

With that promise tucked away into the back of his mind, he practically downed the entirety of the medicinal concoction in one swallow. Then, falling back against the pillows, "G'night." He was out like a light.

It was three o' clock in the morning, and Dean and Roman were standing in line at a rental car dealership. Who would have thought that there would be sixteen people (themselves included) in need of a ride at this unthinkable hour? Dean had already swallowed down two of the little bottles of pink-lemonade flavor Five-Hour Energy, but he was beginning to grow restless and weary. Shifting uneasily from side to side, he seemed hyper-sensitive and acutely aware of everything that was transpiring around him. Roman didn't even bother trying to calm him down. If he lost that alertness, he'd sack out, and they had another two and a half hours (at the very least) until they could find a decent hotel to crash in. That meant splitting shifts of an hour and fifteen minutes. Roman couldn't decide whether it would be better to put Dean first or second.

All of a sudden, Dean reached for his phone. It was in the back pocket of his shorts, still on vibrate. One look at the Caller ID, however, had him stuffing it right back whether it had come from. "Who was it?" Roman asked.

Dean scrunched up his nose. "Hunter." It seemed that he no longer was worthy of the name 'Daddy', and there was certainly no affection in Dean's tone when he uttered his given name.

"He must've just gotten back to the hotel room with Seth and found all of our stuff missing." Roman laughed wryly, and after a few seconds, Dean joined in. That's when Roman felt his phone vibrating in his pocket.

Warily, he pulled it out, before casting a sour look at the Caller ID. Dean pitched in, "Do I even have to ask?"

Roman smirked darkly, wiping away a fake tear from the corner of his eye. "Damn - and for a second there, I was actually able to pretend that he was interested in us for something other than 'walking dollar signs'."

Dean's smile suddenly became softer, and he patted Roman's upper arm. "We'll do much better on our own."

"We always have." Roman agreed almost immediately.

This was true. Roman and Dean had been through hell together, and had still managed to come out the other side mostly unscathed. Together, they'd braved the terrors that had accompanied their first dom (an incident that had caused them to be incredibly slow to trust the second, and justifiably so… Hunter continued to take great delight in humiliating him on live television), and together, they'd come through the heartbreak that accompanied the loss of their teammate, brother, and lover. On rare occurrences, they could bring him up without pain. On others, like what was witnessed on RAW 6-9-14 and previous episodes, it resulted in a storm of emotions erupting like a volcano - vicious and wild and untrustworthy, taking out anything and everything that dare stand in its way.

"Roman." The soft inquiry came so suddenly that Roman almost didn't hear it, or acknowledge it. But when he did turn to Dean, he looked broken and young… not unlike he had the first time that they had met.

"What is it, Dean?" He tried to sound as gentle as possible, but 'gentle' wasn't necessarily his forte.

"You don't think that I'm…" here, he looked around uneasily. Shoving sweating hands into his pockets, he swallowed hard and spat out, "You don't think that I'm fucked-up in the head, right? That one day, I'm gonna end up face-down in a ditch or something just as bad?"

Roman felt for the dirty blond, who looked just about as broken as Roman had ever seen him. "No, I don't think that." He clapped Dean on the shoulder, partly to reassure him, partly to move him forward in the line. "Don't let Seth's opinions bother you, okay? He's not like us anymore."

A dark storm-cloud appeared over Dean's features. "He's a sell-out."

"He turned his back on us." Roman tightened his hold on Dean's shoulder almost imperceptibly. "And the innermost layer of Hell is reserved for the lowest of the low… that includes betrayers like him."

"So… I'm okay?" A little flicker of hope shone in his eyes.

"You're more than okay, pretty boy." Roman kissed his forehead softly. It was as close to a comforting gesture as he had ever come. "You're a little crazy, a little radical, and maybe a little conniving… but that makes you you. And if that makes you fucked-up in the head, then this whole damn world is the exact same way."

Dean sniffled, and Roman suddenly realized that the dirty blond was crying. They were tears of joy, he was quick to assure, but tears nonetheless. The line continued to move forward and finally, Roman and Dean were next. Dean wandered off to find a box of tissues while Roman handled the business of getting them transportation for the night. The girl operating the desk was a young blonde, maybe in her mid-twenties, who clearly did not recognize either one of them (or, if she did, she simply didn't care). He paid in cash (debit or credit would be too easy to trace, and the last thing that either of them wanted - or needed - was Hunter showing up on their doorstep and begging them to return home) and she turned over their keys to a shiny, if not a bit outdated, Corolla. And they were on their way.

Just as he had predicted, it had taken about two and a half hours to make it from the rental car dealership to the hotel. Roman checked them in while Dean looked around aimlessly, and Roman wondered if it was really best to pull Dean away from everything like he had. But then, once he had the keys to their room, Dean locked on to his side as if his life depended on it (it fell into the category of moments where Dean decided that PDA was actually okay, and those were as rare as meteors crashing into the Earth and wiping out entire species). Burying his face into his neck (and attracting quite a few stares as they made their way down the hallway and into the elevator, which would take them to the second floor and, ultimately, their room), Roman could feel fresh, salty tears wet the skin there.

He sighed. Dragging him along to their room, he unlocked the door and pulled him inside, shutting it behind him. "Are you sure that you're ready for this? There's always time to turn back."

"No. No way in hell." He sat down heavily in one of the oaken chairs, placing his head in his hands. "I know when I'm not wanted, and I'm not wanted there. Neither of us are. The sooner we come to grips with that -," and that seemed to be all that it took for him to completely break down.

"Hey, hey," Roman squeezed his shoulder, tight. "I still want you. And I'm the one still standing by you. We'll get through this together. No more abandonment."

Dean could remember when Roman promised that to him all that time ago. It made him smile, seeing that he still remembered it. "No more abandonment." He agreed, perking up a little.

The next morning, Seth came out of the shower in a puff of steam and sweet-smelling air. A fluffy white towel was tied loosely around his waist. When he noted that Hunter was the only one on the bed, he frowned. "Where're Dean and Roman?"

Hunter slowly lowered the paper that he was reading. "Good morning to you too, sunshine. I slept fine, thank you for asking." Hunter rolled his eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"Compared to yesterday, anything is an improvement, right?" Seth bit back, earning another eye-roll.

"The sarcasm has returned full-force. In my expert, non-medical opinion, you shall live to see another day… provided I don't kill you first." This earned a laugh from both of them.

But still, the elephant in the room could not be ignored, "They never came home last night, huh?"

Hunter sighed. "I was hoping that you were too out of it to notice."

"I was really out of it for awhile, wasn't I?" He smiled, but something about it was missing. "But I had time to do a lot of thinking, too. And I've come to decide that, while I don't necessarily agree with their methods, they might have a point."

"I don't suppose you'd care to share this earth-shattering revelation with the class, now would you?" Hunter asked. He watched as Seth sat heavily on the foot of the bed, clasping his hands tightly in his lap.

Seth tried for the short version, but it ended up becoming incredibly long-winded and winding back all the way to when Hunter had first betrayed them, claiming that the Shield had failed to evolve. He explained that this was when the first seeds of distrust had been lain - it wasn't so much the fact that it was a painful storyline all around, but that it tested the very foundation of what the Shield was built on. Seth, Roman, and Dean had once been a family. They'd invited Hunter into that family, and had trusted him to take care of them. Then, with Evolution ready to tear them apart every second of every day, that trust slowly began to erode. Just take what had happened on April 23rd as a prime example. Their trust was not easily won back, but it had been won. That was what made all of this that much worse.

Seth explained that he hadn't necessarily been happy about not telling Dean and Roman about the storyline, but he admitted that he was equally to blame for not doing anything either. He also, admittedly, had not helped the situation by handing over the steel chair to Randy Orton and encouraging him to land blow after blow to Roman's prone body - eventually to the extent where Roman collapsed, unconscious. He also admits to feeling incredibly guilty about picking on Dean's psyche the way that he has been week after week, knowing that that is something that Dean can be incredibly self-conscious about. But it all circles back to honesty. If they'd fessed up to the storyline from the start, it wouldn't have to be like this. Roman and Dean would be home and Seth wouldn't be questioning the idea of a light or heavy breakfast.

The two-toned man looked at him worriedly, biting his bottom lip and slowly sucking it into his mouth. "Have you tried calling them?"

Hunter almost seemed insulted. "Of course I have. It goes straight to voicemail." And then, softer, "At the rate things are going, I wouldn't be surprised if they block both our numbers pretty soon."

Seth's brown eyes blow wide and he looks as if he's about to cry. Hunter braced himself for an eruption of Niagara Falls, grabbing the complementary tissues (which are really more like paper than anything else) and handing over two of them. His boy just stared at them, "You have to find them, Daddy!"

"What do you think I'm trying to do?" He snapped. When the tears actually did start to fall down Seth's cheeks, he took a deep breath and counted backward from ten. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you." But his patience was wearing thin. "I'll keep trying, okay? But if they don't want to be found, well…"

Seth jumped off the bed in a flurry, heart beating erratically in his chest. "You're just giving up?"

A sigh, "Sometimes, admitting defeat is better than fighting a losing battle."

Seth's lower lip trembled furiously, and without really thinking, he screamed, "Any self-respecting Daddy would never just give up on his boys like that! If you really loved any of us, you'd keep us together, because we're nothing apart!" He was slowly, but surely, working himself up into hysterics.

"Seth…"

"I'll run away. I'll find them myself. Or maybe I won't. Maybe I'll find a new Daddy that actually gives two shits about the happiness of his boys. Couldn't you see how unhappy they were?"

What had started out as a somewhat civil conversation had now broken down into a full-out fight, and Hunter realized that he was damned, whether he opened his mouth or not. Seth collapsed in a heap by the bathroom door, knees drawn into his chest and face buried in his arms. He was sobbing loudly, his entire body shaking with the force of it. Hunter wanted nothing more than to go over and comfort him, but knew that his presence was less-than-desired at the moment. So, he simply allowed each of Seth's words to slowly and painfully sink home. Yes, he'd seen how unhappy they were. No, he hadn't done a thing about it. And yes, he'd admit that that made him an awful dom, but to lose two of his boys and have the third threaten to run away was just a little too much for Hunter to take in one sitting.

"I need some fresh air." He tossed the paper onto the bed and stood up, quickly and quietly exiting the room and leaving Seth in his heap on the floor.

Seth heard the door slam shut, and it only caused him to sob harder. "D-D-Daddy…"

That 'breath of fresh air' turned out to be a three-and-a-half hour walk around town. Hunter enjoyed the fresh air and the alone time - it was good for clearing his head and allowing him time to think about everything that had transpired. He only returned to the hotel room when it was time for himself and Seth to ready for SmackDown. But when he returned to the hotel room, he found that it was abandoned. Much like when he'd returned with a delirious Seth, more suitcases had vanished, along with ring attire, sweats, and everyday clothes. Hunter's sinking sense of dread that Seth had made good on his promise was fulfilled when he made his way to the bed, only to find a short note scribbled onto a piece of lined notebook paper. He had to of read it six times before it fell from his hand to the coverlet.

On the front:

Goodbye

Love, Seth

On the back:

This is the end.

A/N: Shall I write a sequel?