Fear is Real {WWE FanFiction}

Chapter 2

Trying to act nonchalant, Roman crept, step by little step, to the back of the locker room. Only a few other people - namely Kane and Jericho - were still there, but he didn't want either of them telling Dean what he was about to do. He pretended to be interested in his vest as the other two stood and left. Now it was just him and Seth.

"Roman," Seth said, "I think Dean is up to something."

The Samoan frowned. "Why do you say that? And why should I believe you anyways?"

"Ro, you know me," Seth murmured. Roman cringed at the old nickname, but let it slide.

"Look, I know neither you nor Dean trusts me, but if you never believe me on anything else, believe me on this." There was a certain urgency in Seth's voice. "He's up to something. Haven't you noticed how much he's been drinking? How he stares off into space more than he used to? He's obviously contemplating something."

Roman nodded once. His two-toned former friend had a point. Dean had been acting out of character lately, though not enough for Roman to notice. Then again, he spent most of his time with the sandy haired man.

"Why are you telling me this?" Roman asked. He glanced at the door, hearing footsteps pass by it outside.

"Just...be careful," Seth said in lowered tones. "Take care of yourself, Roman. See you across the ring tonight."

He left before Roman could think of anything to say.

-*-*-*-

"Dean, come on!" Roman huffed in impatience, standing outside of the locker room.

"Almost ready!" came the reply, after a lengthy silence.

"You said that ten minutes ago," Roman grumbled under his breath. With a sigh he opened the door. Dean was standing in front of a locker, its rectangular metal door blocking Roman's line of sight to whatever Dean was doing.

"Dean, seriously," Roman began, heading over to the sandy haired man.

Dean spun, hands going behind his back, a guilty look on his face. Roman narrowed his eyes. That was suspicious. But he shrugged it off.

"Let's go, man." He grabbed the taller man by the collar of his shirt and dragged him out of the showers.

"What are you in such a damn hurry for?" Dean said, trying to twist out of the Samoan's grasp to no avail.

"I'm tired," Roman answered. "We're not going out tonight."

-*-*-*-

Dean was on his bed pouting, right where Roman had left him fifteen minutes earlier when he went to pick up some food. Rolling his eyes, Roman tossed his friend a bag.

"McDonald's," Dean said flatly, but Roman saw the gleam of appreciation in his eyes.

"Hey, we earned it. One helluva match tonight," Roman laughed. He sat on his own bed. "TV or something?"

"If you're trying to make up for not letting me go out tonight, it's working," Dean said, then took a chomp out of a burger. "Let's see what's on."

Roman smirked and chewed on a fry. He tossed Dean the remote. The TV crackled to life, making that annoying static noise. It was on the History Channel - Ancient Aliens. Both men snorted into their food but left the show on.

"I fffink I kn' wha' I' go'a 'ee fff' A-o-een," Dean said around a mouthful of food.

Roman raised an eyebrow at him. "What?"

Dean swallowed his food. "I said, I think I know what I'm gonna be for Halloween. The 'aliens' dude. Spike my hair up and everything."

Roman laughed, throwing his head back. "Please do it. I will pay  you to do that."

Dean stuffed the rest of his fries into his mouth. Still chuckling, Roman unlocked his phone, which had just vibrated.

Believe me yet?

All vestiges of humor drained out of Roman. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't like Dean to stay in on a Friday night, even if Roman insisted. Odd. He typed a quick reply.

Getting there.

"Hey, Dean," Roman began.

Dean looked over at him, signature cheeky grin on his face. "Yeah, Rome?"

Behind Dean, near the room door, a shadow moved into the bathroom. It was quick, just a flicker of movement, but Roman noticed it. His eyes widened.

"Roman? Hello?" Dean snapped his fingers.

"Sorry," Roman muttered. "Nevermind."

"Okay," Dean shrugged.

Roman couldn't sleep that night.