Author's Note: This story is a sidequel to my fic "The Heart Brings You Back". I wrote that before this one and I enjoyed it so much that I decided to write this to complement it. If you're interested in reading that one, you can find it on my bio page. Thanks for reading!

The 8 ball flew across the table, zigzagging back and forth across the velvety green top. It hit a few other balls on its way around but none of them fell into their respective pockets. That wasn't the goal though. The goal was to get that particular ball out of play so the game would successfully come to an end and Roman Reigns would walk out of that bar as the winner.

His plan worked. Dean Ambrose threw his pool stick to the ground.

"I believe that's 50 bucks," said Roman, leaning heavily over the table and opening up his hand.

Dean didn't verbalize it but in his mind he was currently cussing his best friend out in great length. That was the fourth game he lost in under two hours and now he was out $200. He was just thankful Roman was paying for the drinks or he'd be out a hell of a lot more than that by the time the night was done.

Roman happily folded his shiny, new $50 bill up and placed it into his pocket. "Looks like my kids are getting some new toys when I get home tomorrow," he said and Dean couldn't be mad him for that. At least he was using his winnings for the greater good. Dean would've used it on strippers. Lots and lots of strippers.

They made their way back to the bar where their beers were still waiting on them. Roman took the opportunity to have another go at their earlier conversation.

"You know, you just might've won if a certain someone was around," he said and he could already see Dean rolling his eyes, "Girl's good luck. Especially for you."

This again? Dean should've known. It was probably the reason Roman invited him out here in the first place. It's not like he was being very subtle about it anyway. The least you could do, Dean thought to himself, was get me drunk first but that was another thing he chose not to verbalize.

"She doesn't want to talk to me," Dean muttered, tossing back his beer until the bottle was empty. "You saw the look she gave me yesterday at Smackdown. And the day before at Raw."

"Can you blame her?"

Dean glared at him. Roman was his best friend. He was supposed to be on his side. But since he clearly wasn't, Dean decided to give him a little taste of his own medicine. It was petty but he didn't care. The last thing he wanted to talk about was Renee. And he knew the last thing Roman wanted to talk about was Seth.

"Maybe you should give Seth a call. See how he's doing?"

Of course Dean would go for the low blow. Anything to keep the topic of conversation off of himself. But the reasons Roman had for not talking to his ex-Shield brother were entirely valid as far as he was concerned. Dean's reasons for ignoring Renee - and breaking up with her in the first place - were not.

"Dude needs his friends right now. Dude needs his brothers right now." Roman didn't respond that. Dean shook his head, "I just think it's fucked up is all."

That was hilarious, and a little ironic, coming from the guy who just abandoned his girlfriend at an airport for no rhyme or reason. But Roman didn't even bother going there. Instead, he focused on the subject of their conversation and that too was just as hilarious and ironic. If anyone was "fucked up" it wasn't Roman for refusing to talk to Seth. It was Seth for being a cheating scumbag.

Roman told him that but Dean didn't seem to care.

"You think he deserves that kind of public humiliation just because he fucked some other chick?"

The way it came out was the last thing on Roman's mind. Sure it was incredibly embarrassing for Seth but Roman's issue with him was strictly because of the infidelity. The fact that he was humiliated online in the process was no excuse. But Roman didn't even have the energy to argue with him over this. Dean would never understand. He wasn't married. And he'd just ended the only real, long lasting relationship he'd ever had.

"I just don't think what he did was right. Period."

Dean muttered to himself, "I've done worse."

"Oh, save it, Ambrose," Roman snapped, garnering the attention of everyone else at the bar. His deep voice had a tendency to do that. "The bad boy bullshit is played out!"

The bartender from across the bar signaled to the bouncer at the front entrance. He quickly intervened though it was hardly needed. They were just having one of their brotherly spats. Granted, a bar probably wasn't the best place for that because they were two fairly big and muscular guys currently in the middle of an argument that was getting more and more heated by the second.

"Relax or take it outside," was all the bouncer said. It was the first and final warning.

Dean lifted his hands in the air as if it was a police offer he was trying to convince he was unarmed to. Roman simply stayed silent until the bouncer returned to his post.

But it was clear both of them were far from finished.

"You're a grown man, dude. It's time you started acting like one."

"Oh, save it, Reigns," Dean mocked him, "The family man bullshit is played out."

Roman sighed. It was like talking to a brick wall. A drunk and incredibly stubborn brick wall.

"Whatever, man. Do you," he shrugged and was prepared to leave the conversation at that. But the stupid look on his best friend's face only got him that much more angry. So he continued, "But you had a damn good woman and you fucked that up." The look on his own face was disgust now. "Same goes for Seth. I don't have any sympathy for either one of you."

Dean called after him as he started to walk away. "Yet you brought me here tonight! For what?"

"Because I thought maybe you'd finally pull your head out of your ass!"

Roman just didn't get it. It was too late for that. Renee stared straight through Dean the last two times she saw him. He was the last person on Earth she probably wanted to ever see or talk to again. But he couldn't really blame her for that. If she had treated him the same way he probably wouldn't have been able to handle it. Maybe that's why he did it in the first place. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Get out of a situation before it turns to shit was a pretty good motto to follow, he thought. But there was really no sign of that happening. They'd been together for a year and a half already and things only seemed to get better as time went on.

Of course, he had to fuck that all up. He wouldn't be Dean Ambrose if he didn't.

Roman took a seat back beside him. There was no way he was going to leave now that he seemed to get through to him. Even if it was only for a split second.

"You love Renee. And despite the fact that you're a stubborn son-of-a-bitch, she loves you too. That's all that matters."

Damn you, Roman, he silently cursed his best friend again. The bastard got what he wanted in the end. Dean was fully prepared to come to the bar, get drunk off his ass, and then let the rest of the night take care of itself. But Roman's plan succeeded. Yet again. And Dean decided the dude was too smart for his own good. It was almost annoying.

"You're one too, ya know. A son-of-a-bitch," said Dean, holding up his fist. Roman bumped it with his own. That was their version of an apology or a truce or whatever it was. "I guess that's why we're best friends."

Maybe Dean was right too. Not just about that but about Seth. It didn't matter that he made some bad choices. He was still a human being. He still had feelings. Going through a breakup was hard enough but suffering through public humiliation on top of that had to be overwhelming. And that was certainly an understatement. Roman didn't agree with it, he didn't understand it, but Seth was still his friend. It was his job to be there for him no matter what. Ride or die, was what they always told each other.

An obnoxiously loud ringing interrupted both of their current introspection, coming from Dean's phone. It was buried deep into his jean's pocket but he managed to dig it out just in time to see who it was before it went to voicemail.

"It's Renee."

"Answer it," said Roman, taking out his own phone too, "I've got a call to make myself."