Chapter 2

"I swear I'm trying to hold onto my sanity for you, but it keeps slipping away." 

Seth felt horrible. He felt sick to his stomach and wished to just throw up already. He wanted to be by Dean's side up in heaven, living with him happily. 

What would be a curse to others would be a blessing to Seth. He didn't want to live without Dean and it was torture doing so. Every day dragged on, becoming longer than the last. Whenever he tried to sleep, he dreamed of Dean. 

Dean would be hollering at him, wondering why Seth let him die so young. What was wrong with Seth? How could he let such a thing happen?

Seth would wake up, sweat covering him as he panted. He stared around the room in hopes of seeing his lover sitting in the rocking chair parked in the corner, chuckling at Seth and telling him he shouldn't have watched that horror movie before bed. To Seth's disappointment, he was in the room all by himself and the smell of Dean came from a shirt of his that Seth wore. 

Sighing, he locked himself in an empty locker room. He slammed his back against the wall and slid down, crying heavily. He remembered the last time the two of them shared a locker room. Seth was feeling nervous about the upcoming match and Dean helped him relax by giving him a massage and doing some sexual deeds for him. Seth wanted to do something for Dean, but the announcement was made that they were about to go out. That match went as planned and both were pleased with the results. 

He missed those days. When his stress was just about a match and not about a death. 

He couldn't help but blame Hunter and Stephanie, or even Vince, for Dean's death. He was told he'd have to do the deed or he'd lose his job. He couldn't afford to lose his job, so doing that to Dean was his only option. 

He wished he would have listened when Dean begged him not to do it. Seth should have known the consequences, but he didn't. He didn't even think about them and now things took a turn for the worst. Now everything was crashing down around him and all he could do was watch it. 

He didn't have the strength anymore. He couldn't fight back. He couldn't let go. 

He wanted to give up on everything. He wanted to break down and cry. 

He wanted to do so many things, yet he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to do so much and it hurt him. 

A knock on the door snapped a miserable Seth out of his thoughts. The sobbing man sniffled, rubbing his eyes as he cleared his throat, trying to find his voice. 

"Y-Yeah?" he mumbled quietly, leaning his head back against the wall. 

"It's Roman," he announced. "Can I come in?" 

"No!" 

"Seth, please. I promise I'm not mad." 

"Then why do you want in?" 

"To help." 

Seth shook his head. "You can't help me. Nothing can help me." 

Roman tried to open the door, finding it locked. "Seth, please." 

Huffing, Seth unlocked the door and in came the Samoan. He knew Roman wouldn't leave him alone when he was in this state, so he might as well obey and allow the man in. It would satisfy the bigger man into thinking he had truly helped. 

Roman sighed, making Seth shrivel into himself. Roman sat across from him on the floor, only inches away, hesitant to reach out a caring hand in fear of Seth's reaction. 

He knew Seth was aching, but he didn't know how to help. Seth wouldn't let him in. When Dean was upset, he spilled his guts to Roman, whereas Seth was the opposite - he kept everything all bottled up and refused to say a thing. He didn't want to hurt anyone with his feelings. 

"You don't have to be here," Seth informed him, peeking up slightly. "No one does. None of you have to feel bad for me. I know what I did, Roman." 

Roman raised a brow of confusion. "Seth, what in the hell are you talking about?" 

"I'm the reason he died, Roman," Seth choked up, wiping at his eyes. "If I hadn't done that, he'd still be here, Roman...he wouldn't have left us!" 

Roman shook his head. He understood why Seth felt like this, but that didn't mean it was right. He hated that Seth blamed himself because ultimately, it was the companies fault for Dean's death, not Seth's. Sure, it was his foot that kicked Dean's get into the cement block, but it wasn't supposed to hurt Dean that badly plus Seth hadn't wanted to do it.

"Seth, snap the fuck out of whatever trance you're in," Roman huffed. He hated being gruff with Seth in his time of need, but he knew he also needed the a slap of reality. "I get it, Seth. I get that you feel bad for what happened to him and yes, I understand why you feel it's your fault. But here's your fucking reality check - you were forced to do that or you would have lost your job. You would have lost everything, Seth! When are you going to get it through your thick skull that no one blames you for what happened?" 

"That's why everyone glares at me," Seth muttered, wallowing in self-pity. "They all know what I did, Roman. They know it's my fault. I could have said no, but I didn't. We would have survived! We would have been perfectly fucking fine, but instead, I blew it and ended up blowing up my relationship in the process." 

Roman stood up in a fit of fury, staring down at Seth. He forced the younger man to his feet, looking into his eyes with rage as he breathed heavily, chest heaving  with each breath. 

"Alright, Seth, here's the truth - you did what you had to in order to keep your life together. If you didn't do it, you would have been fired. Being fired means no money. No money means breaking up. Breaking up means no boyfriend. And no boyfriend means end of you," Roman explained through clenched teeth. "I know why you feel bad. I get it, like I said. But you have to understand that it was out of your control, Seth. You couldn't control the situation and you need to stop thinking you could have. Oops, your foot slipped, so what! He would have had the same thing happen to him whether or not your foot slipped, Seth, because news flash, Dean had a fucking tumor!" 

Seth stared at Roman in disbelief. "Wh-what did you just say?" 

Roman bit his lip. "I said I'm sure Dean didn't blame you for it."

"He told me his didn't, Roman," Seth said, tears rushing to the corners of his eyes. "But what did you just say? He...had a tumor?" 

Roman looked down. "I wasn't supposed to tell you." 

Seth scoffed. "Fuck you, too." 

He rushed out of the room, heading to his car. He needed to see Dean - he was going to his grave. It wouldn't solve anything, but talking out loud to the grave may help him come to the conclusions he needed to in order to get over Dean's death, or at least get through it.