Yes, another new fic ;_; I know, I know. Shame on me. Also, I have no clue if what I'm writing about is actually true. I've done plenty of research but reading about it is not the same as having to deal with it yourself. So if you see any major mistakes about IT (no spoilers yet), please tell me. I'm very anxious about posting this fic.

Also, this is a prompt fill for KatieRonalds.

In hindsight, Dean thinks he should have seen the signs but to his defense, he was a bit busy with hating on Seth and fending the Wyatts off. And, to be quite honest, he has no fucking clue what exactly these signs are even supposed to be.

All he knows is that he should have been there from the beginning. That's what brothers do; taking care of their family even if they're a pain in the ass.

But fate wouldn't have it and so Dean had to stumble over a barfing Seth in a bathroom of a random arena to learn the harsh truth. He's been a terrible brother and now it might be too late to fix things.

'Look at that, our double champ is sick,' he gloats, lip curling upwards as he catches his co-worker violently emptying his stomach into the sink. What a douche. There are stalls right behind him but no, Prince Pretty here has to clog up the goddamn vanity basin. Dean feels bad for whoever has to clean that shit up. 'Next time use the toilet, idiot.'

And with that he walks over to the urinal to take a piss and get the hell out of here. He doesn't mind the hurling sounds that still resemble a dying dinosaur. No, he's sick of Seth's presence; his skin itches unpleasantly and his fingers ball into fists on their own accord, ready to throw the first punch.

But Dean is not heartless, he's better than this. Attacking Seth when he's already down is no fun at all.

'Shut up, Ambrose,' his former business partner wheezes, sweaty hands grasping the edge of the porcelain to steady his shivering body. It's such a familiar and depressing sight that Dean stops seething inside for a second, genuine concern corrupting his mind and soul until he can snap out of it.

'Whatever, man.' This is none of his business. Not anymore. If he can believe this bighead's words, it never really was. So Dean washes his hands and closes the door behind him, Seth's gasping echoing loudly in his head.

Something's wrong. He should go back and check on him; animosity or not. They still work for the same company and Seth is supposed to represent Dean as his World Heavyweight and United States Champion. He can't just walk away from his responsibility as a fellow wrestler.

Sometimes he'd like to be able to say that whatever Seth is up to isn't of interest to him anymore. Most days he can pretend he doesn't care, that the ire and blatant hatred erased all that has been before. But there are also times he realizes it's all been a lie. Seth is still the most important person to him and that won't ever change.

They used to be more than brothers, used to have each other's back and no matter how many times Seth claims that it's all been fake, the wish to make sure he's okay is still ingrained in Dean's brain. His body turns around and he conceits belatedly that it moves on autopilot. Fucking muscle memory. Or the constant pull he feels all hours of the day for a whole eternity now. It's pathetic that after a goddamn year he still yearns for things to be like they were before.

Before he rips the door open once more, Hunter approaches him with a worried frown, asking brusquely if he's seen Seth. From the looks of it, daddy can't find his poster boy. He points at the blue entrance and nods, snarling, 'Yup. Your undisputed future is puking his guts out. A sight for sore eyes.'

Okay, part of him is enjoying his former brother's misery, but another – way bigger – part hesitates when Hunter's face turns irate and sympathetic at the same time. Dean gets the feeling that he's missing a clue to solve this riddle and that there's a really good reason to start being concerned for Seth's wellbeing. One he can't see because all he cares about is keeping his grudge alive to not drown in his sappy feelings for that jerk.

Dean's mouth opens without him being able to prevent it. For some weird reason he has the urge to defend his glee or to reassure the man that barfing on the road is kinda normal. As if the man wouldn't know that already. They've all done it more than once. Seth will be back on track in the blink of an eye. He hates being sick, so Dean is sure that he's already taken tons of medicine.

'It's probably just food poisoning or some minor ailment. Happens to the best of us. He'll be running around like he's the king of the world in no time.'

Hunter simply scowls and leaves Dean standing there, making him wonder if he's wrong or if Hunter's head is as far up Seth's ass as it's the other way round.

Nah, he's overreacting. If anything were wrong, surely he'd have caught up on it. He's been wrestling Seth each night, has seen him almost daily in the past few weeks. His rage wouldn't have made him that blind. Right?

Honestly, he has no fucking idea. Ever since Seth committed treason, he's been more focused on inflicting damage than being on big brother or good guy duty.

But his instinct is always right and now it tells him he's missed something vital lately and that he should stay to spy on Seth and Hunter, playing a ninja himself for once.

As quietly as possible Dean opens the door just enough to see a good portion of Seth's sweat-covered profile. His former friend is staring at his reflection with so much hatred that Dean is convinced he's actually seeing one of them in there, mocking him for managing to get in this jam shortly after he made history once more.

Or for the fact that he admitted he walks around his hotel room with his two belts, butt naked as God created him.

Why does he even know this? More importantly, why can't Dean stop absorbing every interview and public appearance, as well as his activity online like he's a goddamn sponge? This way he'll never get over what they had and what they couldn't be.

'Seth, you need to stop.' Hunter's voice is stern, yet Dean can hear concern in his demand. Stop with what? Damn, being so out of loop sucks dick. What is Seth up to these days? Is it connected to Sting?

His former companion spits into the sink and washes his mouth, trying and failing to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth. 'No,' Seth barks out, the knuckles turning white from his iron grip. Dean knows that tone all too well. It's the don't tell me what to do warning Seth only gives once before he explodes. Something he copied from Dean during their feud in FCW and didn't bother to free himself of since then.

'I can do this.'

There's a loud, enervated sigh and Dean watches Seth press his lips together, trying to hold in what wants out. 'You won against Cena, but you can't defend both titles in your condition. Seth, you need to go home. Rest. Get better.'

No one makes such a fuss because of food poisoning; not even if it's about someone like Seth Rollins. So what is really going on here? It sounds like Seth is seriously ill and just the thought is enough to stop his lungs from doing their work. Dean can feel his chest constrict, a sense of foreboding turning his knees into jelly. No matter how badly he wants to rip Seth apart for betraying them, he doesn't wish for the other to suffer. Not if Dean isn't the cause of it. Not if he can't make up for it with a smirk and a beer.

His whole body freezes the moment he sees Seth run a hand through his hair, a whole tuft coming out. Holy fuck. This has nothing to do with the broken blond patch. Seth is losing hair and that can only mean the worst if Hunter is so dead set on making sure his prodigy son takes some time off.

Dean can't feel his fingers anymore; nothing seems to be real. His ears are ringing and his breathing gets ragged, almost to the point of him revealing himself.

He's seen cases of people losing tons of hair due to poisoning but it's hard to believe someone would want to harm– okay, considering this is about a lying, backstabbing scumbag that's not that far fetched. But Dean finds it hard to believe that anyone would actually do it. If they have qualms with each other in this company, they take it all out in the ring. No one wants to permanently harm each other. They do that in their dreams at night.

'No, Hunter, I got this. I'm not giving up what I worked so hard for,' Seth grits out, turning around to face his pimp. Dean rests his forehead on the cold door, wishing he'd never have decided to eavesdrop. Yet he's unable to find the inner strength to turn away.

'Nobody said you'll never get to the top again. You're the best wrestler we have and I can open you all doors but I need you to take care of yourself,' Hunter tries to reason and Dean smiles tiredly, knowing full well that it's no use. Seth is as stubborn as he's arrogant. A character trait Dean once thought was kinda cute; when he still saw it as self-confidence and justified cockiness. Nowadays it just pisses him off.

Predictably, Seth lashes out at their boss, screaming with a shaking voice, 'I sold out, stabbed my stable in the back for all this. I'm not giving it up just because karma decided to finally get to me.'

What's goin' on? If they don't give him an answer soon, he'll barge in the room and grab Seth at his collar to force the truth outta him.

The fact that Seth apparently feels some kind of remorse for ditching them doesn't elude him, but too much has happened to file this away as the beginning of an apology he might accept one day. However, something inside of him appreciates the honesty and that he didn't call them any names even in the heat of the moment. Not like Dean tends to do.

'Your false pride won't get you anywhere. Steph and I, we're done watching you collapse after every match. You either take a break or we'll strip you off your titles.'

What? Is it that bad? How could Dean be so fucking ignorant? He's sworn he'd always be there for his family. Look at him now, being benched during Seth's most dangerous game.

There's another sigh that's bordering on being irate and Hunter's next words take the remaining breath out of Dean. He has to steady himself, feeling bile crawl up his throat. No, no, no. No. This can't be real. He did not leave his brother alone with that.

'Seth, cancer isn't a problem you can just will away.'

'Cancer?' he blurts out, hurt and betrayed and shocked to his very core. Dean bites on his bottom lip the moment he realizes that he said that one loud enough for the two to hear and he can see Seth flinch, dashing to the door to yank it open and glare right at him.

'What are you still doing here? Stop looking at me like I– oh, for God's sake, I'm out.' And with that he picks up his championship belts to brush past Dean, staggering away on wobbly legs, the faint stench of sweat and vomit following him.

Dean is too stunned to dash after him, still hoping he got something wrong. That Seth, his little brother, isn't– doesn't– he can't–

'Seth has cancer?' he breathes, wishing to sit down but forcing himself to keep his head held high, to not show any weakness in front of the man Seth left him for. 'Since when? Is it– will he–' Goddamn, look at him fumbling for words. How pathetic.

Hunter stares at him for a few seconds, deciding if he's worth talking to and coming to the conclusion that Dean isn't. 'I too don't think this is any of your concern,' his boss walks past him, not even dignifying him one last glance.

He's just gonna ignore him after dropping that bomb? 'Like he'll it ain't,' he yells after the man, fishing out his phone to punch in Roman's number with violently shaking fingers, hitting the wrong spot multiple times.

'Dee, where are you? If you're not at the car in one minute, Imma drive away without ya,' his brother greets him grumpily but Dean ignores it. Getting to the hotel to sleep for three hours before beginning another satisfying day is not really his top priority anymore. To be honest, right now he feels like normal won't ever happen to them again.

'Ro, listen,' he says so piercingly that his best friend immediately shuts up. 'We gotta talk. Something– something fucked up just happened.'

And Dean's about to lose it if he can't bathe in his best friend's serenity. He needs someone to tell him this is only a nightmare.

Seth still has a place in his heart – Dean won't ever do something about that since he'll forever refuse to believe that he got tricked for over two years and started to tentatively love someone who only fucked around with him – and he's not about to abandon him for dead.

Only Ro can make the world stop spinning and his eyes stop burning. Now that Seth is gone, Roman is the last person to be able to reach Dean.

He wishes he'd be good enough for Seth, that their interactions wouldn't only consist of trying to mentally pick the other apart and that he would still find his baby brother in their motel room after an instance like this.

But Seth is as unreachable as the sun; equally destructive yet life-giving too. If he likes it or not, he's Dean's everything and there must be something he can do. He'll find it. He has to.

There's no way he's gonna give up on Seth. Never has, never will.