Fear is Real {WWE FanFiction}

Chapter 7

An icy tension grew between the two the next morning. Dean, despite being hungover, was managing to do everything on his own. Roman faced away from Dean the entire time they both dressed. He wasn't sure what Dean remembered from the night before but he knew he remembered enough. It was there, in the thick silence.

Roman's phone vibrated in his pocket, startling him. He unlocked it. Two new messages from Seth popped up.

Sorry about last night. Not sure what I was thinking. Didn't mean to upset you.

I do need to talk to you, for real. I'll swing by your room later tonight. Make sure Dean isn't there.

"What're you lookin' at over there?" Dean asked, sounding annoyed.

"Nothing." Roman quickly shoved his phone back in his pocket, troubled. "Just checking the time."

Dean didn't answer. Roman cringed, knowing how flimsy his lie was. He heard the door open.

"We're gonna be late for our interviews," Dean said over his shoulder as he left.

Roman stood in the empty room for a moment longer before following.

-*-*-*-

It was after lunch by the time they got out of their interviews. Some of the tension had dissipated, but Roman knew he'd have to confront it sooner or later.

Dean was driving. It made him feel better for some odd reason, so Roman wasn't going to protest. The A/C blasted cold air to combat the heat of the day, and the radio hummed in the background. Thoughts chased circles around each other in Roman's mind, each one trying to convince him to say something, but none gave him the right words to say.

"So," Dean said, breaking the quiet, "you gonna tell me what happened last night or you just gonna sit there and sulk all day?"

The Samoan looked down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. He said the first lie that came to mind. "Lack of sleep, I guess. Finally caught up to me."

"You've been talkin' a lot in your sleep lately," Dean said as he pulled into an AppleBee's parking lot. "I swear it's like you're two different people when you do. Like, Gollum and Smeágol or something."

That made Roman laugh. "Except I don't have anything to call 'precious'."

"True," Dean said.

Roman sensed there was more that his friend wanted to say. "What is it?"

Dean killed the engine and rested his hands on the steering wheel. He stared out the windshield, working his jaw, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Roman waited patiently for him to say something, but as the minutes dragged on, it became evident that Dean wasn't going to talk.

"Look, man," Roman said. "Ever since I...died... It seems like nothing is the same. The world feels different. I feel different. I don't remember a whole lot, but I do remember that you were acting weird before everything happened. I remember shadows."

Dean paled. "Sh-Shadows?"

Roman nodded, concerned. Dean never showed fear. To see him like this - paled faced, shallow breathing, gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white - scared Roman far more than any of the things he'd seen in the past weeks.

What's up with him? He was fine just a minute ago... Roman thought. Shadows?

"We gonna eat or what?" Dean said, interrupting Roman's jumbled thought processes.

Before Roman could answer, Dean got out and slammed the door. Roman watched him stalk to the restaurant, back stiff and straight.

What is going on?

-*-*-*-

Everything was blurry when Roman opened his eyes. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know what time it was. He didn't even know what day it was; lunch at AppleBee's seemed like an eternity ago. A rock dug into his back, and his entire body ached. He stood, brushing gravel and dirt off of his pants.

Taking a few tentative steps forward, the world spun on an x-axis. He stumbled, caught himself before he could scrape his knees.

He stood again and examined his hands. To his dull surprise, blood covered his palms, but they weren't scratched.

Dread sank into his stomach like an anchor.