A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed/favorited/followed, and thank you for sticking with this. Sorry it's been awhile. I kind of promised some of you guys that there would be a second part/continuation, so here it is.

For reference since it's been awhile: This picks up the next day (4/10/2015) at Sheffield, England. The 4/11 house show is at Birmingham (I tried looking this up and I believe RigsFitness is the gym located here and the one Dean and Seth were spotted at taking pics with the same guy back in April. It's also a gym that has been used by other superstars in the past when WWE goes to England. Please correct me if I'm wrong), the 4/12 house show is in Cardiff and 4/13 is RAW in The O2 in London.

Sheffield is a complete blur for Seth.

He couldn't sleep the night before and he ends up just going through the motions in his fight against Orton.

(Which is absolutely the reason why he and J&J can't handle Orton that night).

When he's in his hotel room alone that night, Seth chalks it all up to the time zone difference and not getting the right nutrients into his body.

(It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he's been lying awake in bed for hours, thinking about a certain former teammate who didn't even bother to look his way when they passed each other earlier in the day).

Over the years, Seth's found that the easiest way to forget about something is to have a good workout. RigsFitness in Birmingham is John Cena-endorsed and therefore, WWE endorsed. Seth doesn't particularly like John, or that head-scratchingloss Seth took at their recent, obviously unfair, one-on-one match at TLC, but John – and his merchandise sales – are best for business now, or so he's told. John can chase after whatever championship belt he wants to, as long as it's not his WWE World Heavyweight title. Plus, it sure is better than Dean getting his hands on his WWE World Heavyweight title.

Maybe.

(In the back of his mind, Seth can't help but think that Dean might look pretty good carrying his title around).

He meets one of the trainers at the front desk and they start discussing a personalized workout plan for Seth's needs. Before they even get to the weight station though, Seth's hit with the sight of a shirtless Dean, huffing and straining on the butterfly press.

So much for trying to push everything out of his mind after the last two sleepless nights. He guesses he can't outrun this forever.

Dean looks up and they lock eyes.

He hates how Dean can look right at him and seemingly know his whole life history, but Seth can't even tell if he's thinking about anything, let alone something specific. It's so uncomfortable and annoying.

Is he wondering about why Seth bothered to stop to help him up to his room? Is he thinking about their talk in the elevator? Is he thinking about Seth's hands around his waist, his breath against his ear?

About how easy everything was?

And even though Seth doesn't have a clue what Dean's thinking about, he knows that their little look affects Dean in a way that he would never admit to.

Because Dean's the first to look away. He's the one who abruptly gets off the bench, throws a towel over his shoulder and walks over towards the rowing machines on the opposite side of the gym, muttering something under his breath.

For a second, Seth attempts to follow him, but then he remembers that he's still in public and the expectant trainer is leading him towards the weights. Besides, Seth's not some puppy dog and he's not going to hang on Dean's every move just because they had some little…what? Reconnection? Understanding?

It was obviously nothing, Seth concludes. If Dean's going to ignore everything, so will Seth.

But the trainer seems to notice Seth's gaze and Dean's reaction. "Wow, I thought all that animosity was being played up for the cameras. I guess getting a picture with you two together is out of the question." Seth looks to the trainer, and is met with a sheepish grin and a shrug. "It's not often we get celebrities in here," he explains.

The fact that Seth's being called a celebrity in England does stroke his ego a bit. "Ambrose is pretty difficult to deal with, but I'd be happy to take a picture with you after I finish my workout," Seth smiles.

"That'd be great," the trainer replies, "I'll ask Mr. Ambrose another time."

The trainer doesn't pry any more than that.

Thank god.

Seth gets caught staring at Dean after Dean's brawl against Luke Harper in Cardiff. After their encounter at the gym, Seth can't blame Dean when he confronts Seth about it.

"What d'ya want now?"

It's Seth's chance to set the record straight about the other night. He doesn't want things to change for him with respect to his standing in the WWE, but he knows that night definitely did change things between the two of them.

"Look, about the other night..." Seth starts.

"What happened the other night?"

"When we were talking -"

Dean rubs his face and scrunches up his nose a bit. "We were talking?"

"What?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind, whatever," Seth says, annoyance written all over his face. If Dean wants to pretend it didn't happen, so be it. Seth's got more important things to worry about, namely his match against Orton in an hour.

"Look, if you're talkin' 'bout Thursday night, it was kind of a big blur…I think I was dancing with an inflatable giraffe on top of a table but it could have been drugs or a dream or video I was watchin'…So you know, don't sweat it." Dean pats his shoulder and Seth feels like he's been punched in the gut.

Dean doesn't remember anything. That's why he was acting so strangely at the gym. Or normally rather, as if nothing had happened.

"Yeah, sure," is all Seth can manage.

"So you can stop worrying and stop looking at me funny, and I can start beating the crap outta you again, right?"

Seth knits his brows together, as Dean turns to walk away. "Dean, wait," Seth tries, grabbing at his waist, before he can think of the repercussions.

Dean recoils immediately, like Seth's touch is a shock to Dean's system. And suddenly, Dean's facing him and looking at him with wide eyes as if he's all too aware of everything.

Like something suddenly hits him and all the memories of last night are rushing back to him.

"What-" Dean stutters.

Seth doesn't say anything for a while as he watches Dean's expression change from realization to confusion. One touch is all it took for all the memories to rush back, and it's not hard for Seth to read Dean this time.

"You were drunk," Seth says as if it explains everything.

"But…but why?"

"Dunno," Seth mutters, shrugging. And even after days have passed and his analytical mind has run through all the possible reasons, Seth still has no idea why he stooped in front of Dean and offered his help.

"That why you've been giving me all these weird looks? We didn't-" he asks, gesturing rather crudely with his hands.

"What? No," Seth denies, understanding quickly. "You'd really think I'd do that when you're drunk?"

"We've done it before."

"When we were both drunk and we didn't try to beat each other up every week. I'd never do that if you were that shitfaced. I'm an asshole, not a criminal," he rolls his eyes.

"I guess I'm always the criminal, huh?" Dean lets out a chuckle, and Seth has to bite his lip before he lets Dean see how good that sounds to his ears right now.

God, this is so messed up.

But the sound stops abruptly, and Dean snarls a little too forcefully. "Well, don't expect a thank you."

"You already thanked me."

Dean pauses at the information. "Well, I wasn't myself. Didn't mean nothing."

"Okay." Seth's response is simple, but he knows that it'll rile Dean up just enough.

"Probably thought you were Roman…or maybe a bouncer…I can confuse the two sometimes."

"Understandable." And it is. He and Dean would often pass the late nights wondering about what they'd do if they didn't fight for a living.

"Don't start," Dean warns.

"What?"

"What you're about to say."

"I wasn't gonna say anything."

"You're thinking it." Dean thrusts his index finger into his face. "So stop it. Stop pretending like you didn't betray me and Rome. Stop pretending like you didn't just get up and walk away from us. Stop pretending like we're still something."

Seth is about to reply that they're enemies, so they are something, but Dean continues before Seth can formulate his smartass response.

"Because we're not. You don't get to reminisce about what we used to be. Not when you were the one who ended it."

Seth thinks better than to correct Dean and tell him that it's a free country and he can think whatever the hell he wants.

Instead, he just hits him with another truth.

"You're the one who brought it up."

And he's sure that Dean gets the implication.

You're the one talking as if we're still something.

You're the one who's making it hard to walk away.

"Fuck," Dean breathes. He makes a face and clutches his midsection.

"What? Your ribs?" Seth reaches out to Dean before his head can tell him to stop, and Dean shrinks back.

"'S messed up," Dean exhales, as if he's reading Seth's mind.

"Yeah, Harper did a number on you," Seth says instead, not willing admit how much he knows.

"No, you asshole. Us," he emphasizes. "You know, for someone who considers himself the architect, the master strategist, you sure are pretty dense."

Seth is a little relieved that Dean doesn't finish his first thought. Because it's so much easier being a complete asshole to someone – especially Dean – than being honest with himself. "How'd you learn those big words?" Seth mocks. "You and Roman aren't exactly geniuses."

"And yet somehow Orton managed to RKO you and your minions tonight," Dean taunts back.

"I'm still champion," Seth gloats.

"At what cost?" He gestures towards the fresh bruise forming on his shoulder, but his eyes are angry, and Seth knows that Dean's not talking about tonight's match at all. Dean groans at nothing in particular. "Why didn't you just let me rot there in whiskey and vomit? Why couldn't you just enjoy it like the scumbag you are?"

"Couldn't," Seth says simply. He doesn't want to elaborate because he really doesn't want to think about it anymore. He never wants to think about anything when he's with Dean. That's always been the problem really.

Seth has always been someone who doesn't like to ask questions. He'll go to great lengths to do everything he can to accommodate people, especially if Seth can get something out of it. It's a trait he's been working on actually – indulging people a little too much – especially after trusting Orton after his return.

And Dean is someone who wants to love or wants to fight. There's no in-between with him. That's why it was always so easy with Dean, with them.

Until Seth turned his back on the Shield and Dean started wanting to do both.

The sudden derisive laughter of the Bella Twins in the distance breaks them out of their little world and Dean pushes past Seth. "Yeah well, maybe fucking try next time. I don't fucking want your help."

Seth knows he doesn't mean it.

The next time Seth sees Dean, it's in London an hour before RAW is about to start.

"You know, you really should try being more considerate when you're trying to carry someone." Seth's always found it weird how Dean will just randomly come up to him and casually start a conversation, but then try to rip his head off the next day.

"What do you want now, Dean?" Seth's decided that from now on, his guard is up until Dean let's his down.

"I got this weird scar on the back of my head."

"You probably got it beforehand…you know, when you were probably out being an idiot more than usual."

"I'm just saying that you could be a lil' gentler. I swear I remember you just pushing me towards a railing and hoping I'd balance on it. Roman throws me over his shoulder and practically carries me up twenty flights of stairs. You know, you should look into his fitness regimen-"

"You were fucking drunk!" Seth exclaims. "And you're telling me how I should carry you? Have you noticed how heavy you are?!"

"Woah, easy there. I forgot how touchy you get when I mention other forms of fitness besides your beloved CrossFit. I was jus' sayin''"

"Fuck off, Ambrose," Seth shakes his head and starts to leave.

Seth is already several steps down the hallway before he hears a hesitant "Wait" behind him. Seth unsurely turns around and is met with a piece of paper pressed into his hand. There's a number scribbled on it.

"What's this?"

"Rome's new number," Dean mumbles. "I mean, I doubt you actually know he changed it, but he's got a new number."

"Wh-why are you giving this to me?" He can't pinpoint what it is exactly that makes his voice suddenly get hoarse.

"If you ever find me drunk off my ass again," Dean explains.

"Oh. Does Roman know you're giving me his number?"

"No, because I don't expect you to use it. But I figured it would save you the trouble. Just in case," Dean shrugs his shoulders and looks down at the floor.

"Are you…"

"It's not an invitation or anything," Dean says quickly. "I'm not saying that I'm gonna need your help again, and I'm not saying that you would even stop to help me again."

"That's exactly what it sounds-"

"But you know, if you ever feel like not letting-" he pauses a second to find the right words, "-some guy you used to know die on the street…" He completely stops this time and Seth watches Dean's thoughts move a mile a minute. "And don't even think about calling him unless it's an emergency, like the cops are handcuffing me or something"

"Why wouldn't I let them?" He asks because he wants to hear Dean's explanation.

"What?"

"Why wouldn't I let the cops take you away?"

"Dunno, just thought…Fuck, Seth, I don't know what to think, okay? If you don't want his number, just say so!" He tries to take back the piece of paper, but Seth stops him by placing his other hand on Dean's wrist.

Dean's being honest; his walls are down.

"An emergency," Seth assures.

Dean glances down at Seth's touch. "Yeah," he murmurs.

"When I won't…can't help you myself."

The implication isn't lost on Dean. Dean looks at Seth for a long minute, then down at his feet. "Yeah." It's barely above a whisper, but it sounds like a freight truck to Seth in the echoing halls of The O2.

There's another long silence until Dean runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

"This doesn't change anything," Dean goes on. "You're still a backstabbing, lying, cheating son of a bitch."

Seth opens his mouth to reply but something gets caught in his throat. He stares at his fingers still on Dean's pulse, and suddenly, Seth wants to tell Dean that what he did last year was stupid and selfish. That being champion isn't all that it's cracked up to be without people to enjoy the accomplishment with.

That the first night in Newcastle was more than just Seth taking pity on an old friend.

And maybe, deep down, Seth knows exactly why he crouched in front of Dean and took him up in his arms. Maybe he let Dean touch him just to feel those warm, calloused fingers wrapped around his body again. Let him lean against him, just to feel someone trust him – need him – again.

But instead, Seth licks his lips and bites his tongue.

Things are complicated; Seth was the one who made it complicated.

He lets go of Dean.

"I know."

A/N: Thanks for reading, and reviews are always appreciated! I think this is it, but as with some of my other stuff, this doesn't exactly end on a finalized note. If I ever get to urge to write more, another part may be added in the future, but for the near future, I'm deeming this as complete.