Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mox hated Chicago. It just wasn’t as fun as other cities to hunt in. The people were too alert, wore too many layers, and were too ready to fight back. On one hand, he admired their gumption. On the other hand, it made finding a decent meal difficult as all hell. 

He ran his tongue over his teeth, feeling the points of his fangs, and focused. He could hear a scuffle nearby. That could be easy pickings, especially if you had no ethical qualms with picking on a guy while he was already down. 

The neon-lit back alley was perfectly optimized for an ass beating. The vampire leaned against the brick wall and watched. It was messy and ugly, and frankly, none of his goddamned business. He just waited for the attackers to slowly walk away, leaving their victim on the pavement.

Slowly, he approached. Already, he could taste the blood. Mediocre, but sufficient. Fuck he was ready to devour. He unzipped his leather jacket and tossed it aside, knowing he needed to keep it somewhat clean. Somewhat. 

The man on the ground was wheezing, gasping for air, struggling to stay alive. Perfect for Moxley. While he didn’t mind a fight, he’d rather just satisfy his hunger. Sure, maybe he was drooling as he kneeled next to the man, but damnit, his meal smelled delicious. Fangs met flesh, and warm blood filled his mouth in greedy gulps. 

That was until he was rudely interrupted by some asshole lifting him into the air and knocking him over their knee. Pain shot through Moxley’s whole body as a cry of pain rang out of his throat. Rolling onto the ground, he looked up at his attacker, a lean, older man. Hands wrapped with X’s marked on the back. Tattoos. Red eyes. 

“You have no manners, boy.” 

Mox spat in the guy's face. The other wiped it off and studied him. It was uncomfortable, but he refused to flinch. 

The man’s lips curled into a smile, “You’re a Rollins vampire, aren’t you?” 

The phrasing caught Moxley off guard, and he blinked. He wasn’t expecting to hear his ex’s name this evening. Not in the middle of a meal. Not from a stranger. 

“Uh… yeah… why?” His eyes narrowed. 

A scoff. “I’d hoped I’d taught him to teach you better than to make a mess like this.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“CM Punk.” the man’s voice dripped in cockiness. 

Moxley felt his eye twitch. There was no hiding his disdain. “You’re the motherfucker who abandoned Seth? The asshole who told him he would never be loved?” He didn’t realize he was swinging until the other caught his fist mid-swing.

“He was an arrogant son of a bitch who had more ego than sense.” Punk hissed, forcing his fist down, “He needed to learn the hard way, or he wouldn’t learn at all.” 

Backing away, Moxley shook his head. Despite everything, all the complicated emotions towards Seth, all the distrust, all the anger, hearing someone else talk about his boy like that was not something he could stand for. It made something in him turn more sinister. More dangerous. 

He pulled Punk forward and hooked his arms behind his head, then with a lift and a snap, he threw himself backwards, slamming Punk’s face into the street. Not wasting a moment, he jumped up to his feet, grabbed his jacket, and fled the scene. He needed to get the fuck out of this cursed ass town. 

After too much running, he was in the privacy of his car. There was a text on his phone. From Roman. He grimaced and typed a quick reply. The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was a moody werewolf, but life didn’t always give Mox what he wanted, now did it?

--//--

Deep down, Roman knew he was a hypocrite, but his pride would no longer relent and allow him to admit such a thing. Sure, he was known as the ruthless leader of the Bloodline, the most powerful and fierce werewolf pack in the States, and a renowned vampire-hater. 

Yet here he was, asking one for help. 

To his credit, it wasn't just any vampire. It was Dean. He'd known Dean before he'd been turned. Back when he was just a human who smelled like sweat and rust. Back when there was hope and love and fight. Back when there were three of them.

Bitter memories prickled at Roman's mind, and he shoved them away. He refused to have his good mood soured by such things. He just needed Dean to agree to help deal with his little hunter issue. 

That was one of the downsides of being notorious. It meant unwanted attention from folks who thought they could be heroes. The most recent character being some blonde kid with too blue eyes and a lot of fight. Obnoxiously patriotic, painfully Belmont-coded, and dedicated to upholding some family legacy. It was all a bit much on the presentation side for Roman. 

Normally, he'd have the twins handle the nuisance, or maybe even do it himself, but he caught a whiff of campfire coffee on the hunter. A specific scent that he knew all too well. And if this hunter was working with the person behind that scent, Dean would be in trouble, too.

He frowned when his phone dinged, and the text message was not in agreement. A low growl rose in his throat as he tapped on the contact and dialed the number. 

“No, Roman, I’m not–”

“Dean, please, just hear me out.” Roman hoped he didn’t sound desperate.

Apparently, he said the wrong thing, as the vampire bristled on the other end of the line, “Dean Ambrose has been dead for a decade, Roman. And you called for his execution!” The words were calm, but ice-cold. “I’ve been Moxley since you forced Seth to turn me. You know this.”

Roman ran a hand over his face, unable to hold back the exasperated sigh. No matter how many times they talked about it, he was always the bad guy for taking action, even though Seth attacked first. Why did he ever date such thankless people? 

“He wasn’t thankless until Rollins turned him into another vampire.” His brain supplied as his face twisted with contempt for the vampire. 

“Moxley,” he could try a different angle, “Rollins is running with a monster hunter.”

There was a long silence, but he could hear Mox breathing. Had he been fighting? Probably, knowing how unhinged Moxley had gotten since they’d gone their separate ways. 

“You still there?”

“Yeah,” Moxley’s voice grated, “I heard you. Just not sure why this concerns me. Or you, for that matter.”

He clenched his jaw. “Well, considering that he’s hunting my family, it concerns me. Then, with Rollins feeding him information, who do you think he will go after next, hm?”

The other side of the line was filled with the sound of a car engine starting, “So, you want me to drag my ass back to Florida to help clean up your mess?”

“A rather crass way to put it, but if that’s what it takes for you to agree.”

Moxley huffed. “Fine. But don’t get your hopes up. I’m still pissed about what you did to us.”

“I expected nothing less from you.” 

The call ended. Coldly. 

Everything had been cold ever since that night all those years ago. Once the flames had died down, once they realized they had nothing left. That was when the empty cold had settled into Roman’s chest and made its home. 

Some days he feared it would never leave, other days he wondered what life was like without it. He must have been so soft to have let himself be hurt so easily.

A mistake he vowed that night he would never allow himself to make again. A vow he intended to keep.

--//--

Seth cuddled against Cody. He enjoyed these small moments. They were fleeting. They were precious. He knew they wouldn’t last forever. Hell, at some point, he would probably need to fight the man he was holding. Maybe even kill him. But that day likely wasn’t today. So he could just enjoy this moment, and try to match his breathing to the slow rise and fall of the other’s breaths. All these years, and he still would do anything to feel human.

He didn’t regret becoming a vampire. Not entirely. But he missed feeling warm in the tips of his fingers. He missed how vibrant life could feel. He missed the variety in the emotional spectrum. Most of all, he missed not being labeled a monster. 

Moments like this, he could almost pretend he didn’t have fangs. Pretend he didn’t have stolen blood coursing through his veins. Pretend he was still human. He clung to these moments. 

Cody stirred, slowly blinking awake with a crooked smile, which Seth was happy to meet with his own. No words needed to be exchanged; they had a routine. A soft kiss, roll out of bed, Cody would shower while Seth would get breakfast started. Then Cody would take over breakfast so Seth could shower. All in silence until they both were halfway through their coffee. Then they could flirt and plan their misadventures for the day. 

Today's coffee was mediocre, but the company made it forgivable. He watched his boyfriend closely as the blonde studied a thick dossier. Sure, he was playing with fire, dating a monster hunter, but when didn’t Seth live on the edge? 

Sharp memories stabbed into his thoughts. Pangs of hunger. The burning under his skin. The desperate gasps for breath. The world was distorting again, and Seth was simultaneously existing in their kitchen and in that nightmare, watching his death be drip-fed into dehydrated IV lines, hopeless and alone. Abandoned and left to rot.

Cody was rubbing circles into his back, guiding him through breathing exercises. Slowly, his muscles relaxed. The past melted away. 

“Hey, there you are.” He spoke slowly, “You’re safe, Seth. You’re with me.” 

Seth threw himself into Cody’s arms and allowed himself to sink into the other’s chest. After the breakup, he never thought he’d find comfort in touch again, but every day he was thankful he was wrong. The horrors of that facility may haunt the rest of his undead life, but at least he could still find comfort in physical contact. That had not been taken from him.

So much had been taken from him by that place. If only he had been a little stronger. A little faster. A little smarter. Maybe then he wouldn’t be so haunted by these memories. 

At least Cody didn’t mind. Cody cared. Even if he was broken, Cody cared. That was more than he’d ever had from… the others. 

“I’m okay, promise.” He eventually was able to force out, “Sorry ‘bout that.” 

Another flashy, all-American smile, “No sweat off my back. As long as you’re good, I’m good. We’re in this together.”

Seth couldn’t stop his mouth from curling into a smile, and he pulled the man in for a kiss, which Cody was quick to follow through on. 

Their moment was interrupted when the folder fell on the floor, scattering papers across the kitchen. They both were quick to clean them up, and Seth couldn’t help but see what was on the dossier as he collected the pages. 

There, printed in black and white, were the faces of Roman Reigns, Jimmy Uso, and Jey Uso. The Bloodline. Wanted for a litany of crimes. 

Cody was tasked with hunting down Seth’s ex. Seth was helping Cody hunt down his ex. And the twins. Why were the twins in this? Hadn’t they moved past this? 

The air was too thick to breathe again. Why was the room spinning? Why did he smell gasoline?

“Seth?” Cody’s voice was careful, “You okay?”

The vampire took a few moments to gain his composure. He had to choose his words carefully. 

“You’re hunting the werewolf I dated.”

Chapter Text

Mox was not a fan of what he saw as he drove up to the property he used to own. Sure, he had handed it over to Roman after the… everything. It was just uncomfortable to drive up the dusty driveway and not see that familiar structure that they had called home for so long. Or, more accurately, for two glorious years so long ago. 

Yes, the Spanish-style mansion was more impressive. Bigger. Probably more structurally sound. But it wasn’t home. It wasn’t the place where so many moments were lived and promises were made. Even if this new house was built in the same space, right over the ashes of what they let burn down, it was wrong. 

Climbing out of the car, he was quick to notice that the dirt driveway had been replaced with pavers, his feet flexing to the uneven surface. Part of him wanted to jump back in the car and fucking leave, but before he could, Roman was walking out of the grand double-doors, arms outstretched. 

Roman had both changed and stayed exactly the same. He still wore the same black pants he’d coveted a decade ago, his hair was long and wet, and his physique was too perfect to be human. He was shirtless, no longer hiding his body, and he had grown out his beard. Some sort of red pepper-looking lei was draped around his neck. His puppy-dog expression now sharpened, like the rest of his features. The werewolf smiled, but no warmth reached his eyes, as if he only saw Mox as prey.

Or as Dean. The human that he wasn’t.

“It’s been too long, what? Ten years?” Roman pulled Mox into a hug. Mox did not return the motion, and he sensed the other’s disappointment. 

Carefully stepping back, he glanced away, deciding that the house was much more interesting than Roman in this moment, “Something like that.”

Roman followed his eyes, “Oh, yes, we rebuilt. Isn’t it gorgeous? Let me show you around.” 

Mox followed. The place felt more like a museum or model home, not a place that was lived in. It was too manicured. Too perfect. It was unsettling. Roman was unsettling. He walked with an air of authority no one gave him, but everyone had to honor. 

“So, what’s going on?” Mox wanted to cut straight to business, “You’re being hunted and need my help?”

Roman adjusted his jaw, avoiding eye contact, “Jey noticed that we were being tracked. Heard of a guy named Cody Rhodes? The American Nightmare?”

“Actually yeah,” Mox shrugged, “He wasn’t much of a threat.”

“Maybe to you, but to my kind, he’s very dangerous. Plus, he now has Rollins as his new side-piece. So, you know, the threat level increases.” 

The absence of the Uso twins was becoming more prominent with each room they toured. There were signs of other people living in the space, but none of them were anywhere to be found. Roman showed him an unoccupied bedroom, “If you ever wanted to come back, I keep this room open for you. You can stay here tonight if you want.”

“Where the fuck is everyone?” He blurted out. 

Roman’s mouth opened, as he struggled to find his words. It was refreshing to see a crack in this new persona, a flicker of the man Mox Dean once knew so intimately. The moment passed swiftly, “I asked them to make themselves scarce. I wanted no distractions. Just us. Like old times.”

The vampire scoffed and walked out of the room, making his way through the custom floor plan. Heavy footsteps followed closely behind him, but he couldn’t stop himself from moving forward. From getting out of this place.

“Dean. Dean.” There was a hand on his shoulder. “Dean, stop!” 

“That’s not my goddamn name!” Mox spun around, heat rising in his chest, “And no, this isn’t like old times. Because there were three of us back then. And right now I’m only counting two. And why is that?” Spit was flying out of his mouth with each consonant, he felt a decade of bottled rage spewing up out of his stomach, “I’ll tell you why. Because a certain ‘big dog’ couldn’t get over the fact that I made my own decisions. That I wanted to fucking live. That I wanted to forgive. But you needed to be in control, didn’t you? So you chased him off.”

Roman stared at him coldly through blue eyes. 

“He needed us! And when he needed us most, you threw him to the wolves.” Roman scoffed, but that did nothing to stop Mox’s fury, “He may have set the house on fire, but you’re the one who torched the relationship first.” 

“Are you done?” The sharp tone stunned Mox into silence. “Because I remember you nearly drinking yourself to death looking for him, months of you pushing me away. You were obsessed with him.” Everything about Roman was cold.

“We both were. Because we loved him. We loved each other.” Mox was there. He remembered. He knew Roman loved Seth. Roman couldn’t rewrite that history. Not without resistance. 

A dark chuckle fell from Roman's lips as he caressed Mox’s face, “That’s where you’re wrong. I loved you. I would have done anything for you. You sent me on fetch quests, so I played fetch. You wanted to turn into a bloodsucker; I made sure he did it. You wanted to leave me,” there was a slight strain in the werewolf’s voice, almost undetectable, “and I let you go. Because I will always do anything for you, Dean.”

Roman ran his thumb over Moxley’s lips, then leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the other. The vampire allowed it; it almost felt right. As if the deranged monologue he’d just witnessed hadn’t been filled with complete bullshit. But Roman’s lips on his… it almost made this strange place feel like home again. Almost.

Mox pulled back, “Will you ever acknowledge what I am now, Rome? Who I am?”

The werewolf tilted his head, confused. It was almost adorable. 

“My name is Jon Moxley, not Dean Ambrose. I’m a vampire. I’m not human anymore. Will you ever be able to…” He shook his head, going for the door again, “Fuck, nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”

Again, the werewolf stopped him, “It matters to me.”

A deep breath. Then the verbal punch. “Once you accept that I’m a vampire, are you going to throw me away like you did to Seth?”

He walked away before Roman could reply. He didn’t want to hear the Samoan’s excuses. He didn’t want to hear about how he was different, or how Seth had committed some unforgivable crime. At best, they were all equally awful people. 

But letting Roman back into his heart was a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Not after how he’d treated Seth. No, he couldn’t trust Roman anymore.

Some people wear their hearts on their sleeves. Seth once said Mox wore his on his fist. Maybe that fucker was right. 

He needed to find Seth. 

--//--

The roadside diner was quaint, the food was sufficient, and the coffee was better than Seth expected. But it wasn’t enough to settle the pit growing in his stomach. They had spent all morning driving from Atlanta down I-75, and now they were close to the place he used to call home. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Cody’s voice was grounding. Seth didn’t want to admit how much he needed that right now. 

He offered a weary smile in response. “I haven’t been down here in a decade. It’s… it’s weird.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it if you’re not ready,” Cody bit into his burger as if he weren’t the absolute best person on the planet. Seth had told him a few pieces about his past, and Cody wasn’t an idiot, but most of it was spoken in the ways he would flinch at certain movements, the oscillations between tormented sleep and bouts of insomnia, or his insistence on always having extra blood bags nearby, even when he wasn’t hungry. 

Through it all, Cody didn’t pry into the past. Simply asked how he could support Seth through the present. Wild how that was all he needed. 

He didn’t mean to blurt out those three words. He didn’t expect Cody to say them back. Especially not with that big, goofy, but also perfect smile on his face. How could the words “I love you” be so weightless on the monster hunter’s tongue when they were so heavy to him? 

“Because he’s different from them. Because he loves you unconditionally,” his mind quickly supplied. 

Suddenly, Cody sat up straighter, on alert. Seth followed his gaze across the diner and froze. 

Jon Moxley made a beeline for their booth and slid in next to Seth, their legs touching as the newcomer pushed him into the space.

Cody’s eyes narrowed, clearly noticing his boyfriend’s discomfort, “Who are you?”

“Moxley.” The vampire called a waitress over and ordered a coffee, "Surprised your boyfriend hasn’t told you. We used to date back when I was human.” 

Seth focused on his breathing, ignoring how Mox was playing with sugar packets. Or how he added the creamer and sugar to his coffee. Or how Cody stayed calm and stoic as he interrogated Mox. Or how Mox’s knee was leaning into his. The room wasn’t as loud as it felt, but it was deafening. 

“Look, I know you’re going after the Bloodline. Big scary werewolf pack. They want me to help them.” Seth turned to look at Mox, surprised to hear that, “But, frankly, I’m not into what they’re offering. Or stand for.”

Cody hummed, “Then why are you here? Last time we danced, I recall you swearing to stay out of my way.”

Mox frowned. “I want to make sure you’re not using Seth.”

The words almost didn’t register. It didn’t make sense. There was no way Moxley cared about him. 

“Look, Cody, I know what you are. I know what Seth is. It’s suspicious that you’re together while you’re going after Roman Reigns, okay? Everyone knows that he’s the easiest way under that man’s skin. And, well, you’re a charming guy…” Seth zoned out of the conversation.

Was it all a lie? Was he being used? Was he just a pawn in Cody’s game? Why did he even accompany him on this trip? It was his idea, right? Or did Cody make him think it was his idea?

“No.” He spoke aloud, “Cody and I, what we have, it’s real. We support each other. We’re there for each other. He knows I’m messed up, broken, all that shit. And he chooses to care anyway. So whatever it is you’re trying to do here… don’t.”

Cody smiled as he sipped his coffee, and Moxley’s face curled into an incredulous expression. “Have it your way, Seth. For your sake, I hope you’re right.”

Once he left, Cody shook his head, “Your exes are something else, man.”

“Yeah… tell me about it.”

Chapter Text

It was never Cody's plan to take a liking to Seth. In fact, when he was first tipped off about a flamboyant vampire breaking into blood banks, he was quite bored by the man. He was angry, arrogant, with a silver tongue and a quick wit. 

But their chase was thrilling. No one had ever given him quite the run, so many close calls. It was almost disappointing when he was able to break into the vampire's motel room. 

Then they were flirting. Then touching. Then kissing. Their clothing disappeared as the thrill of the chase continued. 

Cody didn't want to sneak out of that motel room. It felt wrong to leave Seth alive, it felt wrong to kill him, and it felt wrong to stay. 

So he left his phone number. 

Three days later, Seth called. Invited Cody to another motel. 

“Why am I still alive?” Cody had barely entered the room before he was confronted with the question. The vampire was sitting on the bed, facing away from him. 

Sliding his jacket off, Cody sat on the bed near the other, with some space between them. “I don't want to kill you.” 

“Then why did you come back?”

He offered the vampire a smile, “I enjoy your company.” 

“You shouldn't. I have a habit of disappointing people.”

Cody shrugged. He didn’t know how to respond to that, so he asked the question that had been scratching at his brain for weeks, “Why bagged blood? Isn't it easier to get it from the source?”

The silence was longer than he’d anticipated, and he began to wonder if he should have left the topic alone. Then, Seth spoke, “The last time I bit someone, I lost everything. And the time before that, when it was my choice, my mentor kicked me to the curb. If I'm going to be dependent on stolen blood, I can't hurt people for it. Not worth it.”

There was pain in every word, like the memories were actively haunting the man. Yet, unlike the vampires he normally hunted, this one felt remorse. Considered the ethics of his lifestyle. Felt guilty. 

“Can you stop looking at me like that and kill me already?” The vampire dropped to his knees, kneeling on the floor in front of Cody, back to him, arms outstretched, “See? I’ll make it easy. You don't have to feel guilty.”

He stared at the sight in front of him for what felt like an eternity. Never in his entire career, Hell, in his family’s careers as hunters, had a vampire begged to die. Something was wrong; this person needed help, not to be tormented further. 

“Who hurt you?” 

A cocky but forced smirk. “Wouldn’t you like to know, monster hunter?” 

Sure, Seth was another vampire. But he also wasn't. He kept a connection to his humanity; he avoided biting flesh at all costs. He was gentle when he wasn't cornered. 

When not stuck in his head, Seth was brilliant. Haunted, sure, as most vampires tended to be, but still so alive.

Which made his distant gaze out the passenger window… concerning, to say the least. 

“Hey, you still with me?”

Seth slowly turned to look at him, a little dazed, “Oh, yeah.” He reached into the cooler and grabbed a blood bag. “Just remembering stuff.”

Cody ignored the gross pop that Seth’s fangs made in the plastic. It reminded him too much of the kinds of vampires Seth wasn’t– the ruthless, brutal, bloodthirsty ones. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered, knowing the answer.

The slurping sounds of Seth’s meal were his answer. 

Still, it felt wrong to leave the elephant in the room unaddressed. “Well, I didn’t know who Roman was when I met you. I swear. And I didn’t know he was your ex until you told me.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“Yeah, but I know you’re prone to spiraling. And I want you to know you can trust me, Seth. I… I really care about you, for who you are. Not what you are, who you dated, none of that.” He glanced over, and Seth was picking at his split ends. “I’m sorry I’m dragging you into this. You can back out if you want.”

Seth looked at him, even though his eyes were on the road, he could feel his boyfriend’s gaze. 

“Cody, you are hunting down the most dangerous man I know.” The vampire’s words were slow, purposeful, “Roman thinks he’s the smartest man in every room he walks in, and no one has stopped him from surrounding himself with people to make that facade stronger. But that’s all it is. Under it all is just a scared dog.”

Seth was rambling now, and Cody was not about to interrupt him. It was always a bright moment to see the vampire’s confidence come back when he was on a roll with his words.

“I’d be lying to say I didn’t care about him, or Mox, but what we had… it’s long gone. And it’s my fault Rome’s the monster he is today.”

The blonde opened his mouth to object, but Seth continued before he could.

“If I hadn’t turned Mox, he wouldn’t have lost his shit. I wouldn’t have set the house on fire.” Cody glanced over, and Seth shrugged in acceptance, “I’ve lived with the guilt of that night for what, ten-ish years now? I kept my distance, but the twins update me occasionally. Didn’t realize how bad it was.”

He glanced over as Seth finished off the blood bag, “What I’m saying is, if anyone is particularly suited to be your shield on this mission, it’s me.”

Cody's smile couldn't be brighter.

--//--

Roman stewed in his rage as he ate the meal prep one of his cousins had made. The food didn’t matter, not now. He was too focused. He was so certain that if Dean, no, Mox– if Mox saw what he had built out here, there would be no need for further discussion. Roman had become a provider; wasn’t that enough? 

He needed to right this ship, and fast. He poured too much time, money, and sleepless nights into this plan. This whole project was a testament to the fact that he could be the brains of an operation on equal or greater footing than Rollins. Proof that he made the right decision that night. He needed Dean Mox to see the reality. Even if it meant extreme measures. 

Taking his quinoa bowl with him, he strode through the house, reveling in the way Jay and Sami’s conversation hushed as he walked by the living room. With a nod, the two knew to follow him. Along the way, they collected Jimmy and Solo as well, everyone following Roman silently to the garage, then nodding to the basement. 

“I want the place ready to go by six.” He watched as his bloodline obediently followed his orders.

Cracking his neck, Roman pulled out his phone and made another call. 

--//--

Mox hated himself for agreeing to meet up with “a client” for Roman. Like he was some damn messenger. An employee. Like he meant nothing, as if there was no history between them. It was an insult. He should’ve driven back to the property to deck him.

Instead, here he was, in the private room of a bar, waiting. He was told that the client would approach him, and he’d “know him when he saw him.” Cryptic bullshit. 

“You don’t own me, Punk; you don’t get to tell me how to live my life.” Mox’s ears perked up at the sound of Seth’s voice, and he couldn’t help but listen in, “In fact, think I’ve done enough listening to you.”

As his mind raced, looking for a reason as to why Seth would be here, the leaner man slowly made his way towards the back room, the phone conversation continuing. The more experienced vampire's knee clearly flaring up, if his gait was anything to go by.

“And? So what if I didn’t preach the ways of being ‘straight edge’? Do you know how hellish it is to hate your existence, on top of this diet? I was not about to put that on my friend!”

Mox blinked. Seth was talking about him. Seth was talking to Punk about him. Now he was close enough, Mox could listen in and hear the man on the other end of the phone.

“Listen here, Rollins. I made you, I can destroy you.” That same gruff voice from Chicago, “You owe everything to me; you are an extension of me. I own your ass. So behave. And get your spawn in line while you’re at it.”

The call ended abruptly, and Seth looked around, his eyes meeting Mox’s, both of them surprised at the other's presence. He could feel his face begin to flush. Seth was standing up for his autonomy, without him asking, and he had heard it all. 

Seth joined him, sitting across the table. Annoying red fur jacket. Hair in a stupid bun. Dumbass half-hearted smile. The man who ruined his life. 

“I’m waiting for someone,” he said flatly. Maybe that would make his new dilemma leave. 

Instead, Seth smirked and barked out an obnoxious laugh, one where the gap between his front teeth was on full display (one of them was the wrong color– the one he had to replace). “You asked me here, dumbass!”

Shrugging, Mox decided to roll with it. Roman did say he’d know the client. It would’ve been nice to have been warned how intimately he knew the client. 

Might as well bite the bullet, “What was Punk all mad about?” 

Seth rolled his shoulders and made a show of taking up space, “Old fucker thinks that he owns me. He doesn’t.” He held his chin high, as if the display of confidence would cover up the panic attack Mox witnessed that morning. 

Vaguely, he remembered a decade ago when Seth would rush out of the room to take phone calls. Leaving movie nights and cuddle sessions for some important caller. He always would return in a few minutes, his mood sour. 

“Yeah, that was all Punk,” Seth answered aloud. Mox glared at him for intruding on his thoughts, to which the other waved his hand, “You were thinking loudly. And no, I am not going to tell you how to eat. That’s messed up. It’s your life, make your own choices. Lord knows I’ve made mine.” The last part was under his breath, but Mox heard it clearly. 

The puzzle that was Seth Rollins made more sense. Mox finally understood why his ex-boyfriend insisted on being so distant. Why that fire was set. Why Seth was always careful when offering advice. Seth respected Mox as an individual.

“Something like that.” Seth again retorted. “Stop thinking so loud, I’d like you to have some privacy.”

Mox raised an eyebrow, “You can’t break the link?” 

Seth shook his head, “Nope. Because I turned you. If you drank from me, I’d be able to watch you anywhere, through your eyes. That’s what Punk does.” The way this was a fact of life to Seth was unsettling, and Mox couldn’t hide the way his lips twisted up. 

“I don’t like how you’ve been treated, Seth.” He didn’t mean to admit it, but, shit, it was true.

Something flashed by Mox’s vision and Seth cried out in pain. Then his own neck burst into searing pain. He tried to pull the cause of the pain out, but the damned thing burned his fingertips with a hiss. 

“Don’t touch it.” Seth’s words were rushed. Panicked, but determined to take charge. “This is how they got me last time. It’s too late to run, but dammit, Jon,” Seth practically threw himself across the table, gripping the straps of Mox’s tank top, “I won’t let them break you.” 

Looking around for their attackers, Mox was only able to half comprehend the words. Yes, this is what he wanted, Seth in his arms again, but why were the edges of his vision blurring together? Was that Solo? Or Jimmy? Jey?

Seth was wrapping his body around him, holding him. Muscular arms so warm. They fit together so well. Why didn’t we do this anymore? Where has Seth been?

Dean tried to say “I love you,” but the sounds didn’t make it out of his mouth. 

--//–-

Seth’s heart was pounding in his head. Any moment now, he’d wake up from this nightmare and be snuggled by Cody, right? Right? 

No, he knew this feeling. He’d lived this before. He was going back to that Hell, and this time they probably wouldn’t let him out alive.

He gripped Mox’s shirt tighter, grounding himself. He needed to stay in reality. He needed to protect the only person he’d ever cursed with this life. He needed to protect his last connection to that chapter. 

He needed to protect Moxley.

The other was already losing his ability to sit up. Any words he was trying to say weren’t coming out coherently. 

He couldn’t let his history repeat itself, not to Mox. 

Knowing that his own tolerance for the serum probably wasn’t what it used to be, he focused on tangling himself around Mox, so whoever tried to take them couldn’t separate them easily. He had to make this difficult. If nothing else, just to stick it to them.

His joints screamed in pain, soldered tendons ripping at the seams, old wounds rearing their ugly head. But it didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

Only one thought occupied Seth’s mind: “Protect him.”

Chapter Text

Painful claws of hunger ripped through Mox, so he screwed his eyes shut tighter, not wanting to deal with the bright lights he could sense around him. Everything smelled sterile, too clean, but also like wet dirt. Damp. 

Heavy, ragged, and uneven breaths were coming from someone else in the space. Fuck. He knew those breaths.

“Seth?”

He replayed the events he could remember, the hunger continuing to consume his chest. Seth was with him still, they were ambushed at the bar, he needed to open his eyes, and Seth wanted to protect him. 

Slowly, he opened one eye, immediately regretting the action as the fluorescent lights of the cinderblock room blinded him. But he needed to push through. He needed to check on Seth. He needed to feed. They needed to get out of here. He needed to report back to Roman. Roman would help them. He had to.

Blinking the light blindness away, he looked around to gain a better sense of his surroundings. A concrete floor, a metal door, and a long mirror on the wall. An interrogation room, minus the furniture. And in the corner, holding his knees to his chest, reeking of pure salty fear, was Seth. 

“Doin’ alright, Sethie?” 

It felt like cheating, using the nickname, but he hoped it would help Seth feel safe again. He remembered it used to help during his panic attacks, and he silently hoped that the years apart hadn’t changed that. 

Seth’s wild eyes snapped to the sound of his voice, and then he froze, blinking. Then the thought hit Mox; this was all probably a bit too reminiscent of Seth's time in captivity. The poor guy was probably going through it. Especially if he didn’t have access to his panic meds, if he still took those. 

“‘m fine…” he finally forced out. 

But Mox could hear the blood in Seth’s veins pounding, a heart pumping too fast for someone sitting so still. It made him salivate. He needed to taste the blood in Seth’s veins. He sat up, his bones cracking at the motion.

“You’re lying.” His legs didn’t want to cooperate, so he stumbled his way over, allowing the wall to catch him so he could slide down to the floor next to his ex, “You’re freaking out. You’re hungry. I’m hungry. So let’s breathe, yeah?”

Seth nodded, took a shaky breath, then his eyes flew open and he shook his head. The thousand-yard stare that had been clouding his eyes since the diner was gone, “No. No time. We need to get you fed.”

Mox raised an eyebrow. The attitude shift was… not typical of Seth’s episodes, but at least he had one less problem to deal with. The Seth that Mox knew from the old days was back. The confident one, well, if he ignored the tremor in his hands. 

The hunger pains were causing his own fingers to twitch. Seth was right. He needed to eat. And fast.

“I could just feed from you, can’t I?”

Tension locked every muscle in Seth’s body– Mox must’ve just crossed a line. “You don’t want that,” was the rushed response as Seth went to the door to try the handle. His hand barely grazed the lever before he recoiled with a hiss, “Fucking silver bullshit!”

Singed skin and burnt blood scents filled Mox’s nose, and he staggered forward, “Please, Seth. It’ll be fine.” The emptiness in his stomach was consuming him. A small voice in the back of his mind pondered if this was what Seth had experienced all those years ago, and if so, how he had lasted so long without losing his sanity. 

The lithe vampire backed away from Mox, cradling his injured hand to his chest, “Jon, no! I know that hunger, but you don’t want to give in.” Every step he took was matched. 

“Why not?” He reached out for Seth’s hand, unable to hide his disappointment in his voice as the other pulled away, “I trust you.”

“Of all people, you shouldn’t.”

There was no escape in the small space. Mox was closing in. 

“You’ll regret this.” Seth was desperate, but Mox just heard his pulse elevate and the whine in his voice, “You’ll resent me.” Seth needed to shut up; he didn’t understand. Mox has already made his decision.

He needed to taste that blood. Seth’s reservations be damned.

“I don’t want to be like him!”

The words barely registered as Mox lunged. 

Maybe Seth screamed. Maybe he fought back. Maybe he cursed Mox in thirty languages. Mox didn’t know. All he could focus on was latching his fangs into Seth’s skin and drinking. He needed to quench his thirst. He needed to feel Seth’s touch. He needed to rewind time. He needed to be held. He needed the hunger to be quelled. 

And right now, all his needs were being met. 

Seth held him close and allowed him to drink as much as he needed. And it was that awful night all over again, feeling terrified but safe, because Seth was there. Seth was taking care of him. He was always the one with a plan. The logic. The brain. The one he could count on to solve all their problems. 

His eyelids felt heavy, and he fell into a satisfying slumber in Seth’s unconscious hold. 

--//–

“Wake up, drama queen.” 

Seth slowly opened his eyes to lights that were too bright. The voice sounded distorted, like it was from a speaker. He looked around, only to see the cinderblock room. And Moxley in his arms, the sight quickly reminding Seth how he fell asleep. 

He twisted himself around so his body was over Mox, eyes darting around, ready to protect the other from whatever the lab was going to throw at them. No matter what, he couldn’t let someone he hurt so much suffer like that. The guilt would consume him.

“Where are you, Hunter?” he slurred out. Mox had taken too much, he slowly realized. 

A light flicked on from the other side of the mirror– a two-way mirror. This was an interrogation room. And the sight of the person on the other side of the glass caused the breath to catch in his throat.

He had to be seeing things.

“Roman?” He slowly stood, careful not to wake Mox, “You did this?” 

No, Roman could be cruel, sure, but he wouldn’t be this heartless. But as Seth stared through the glass and searched the face of someone he once loved, he only saw a stranger. Any softness he remembered in Roman's features was replaced with chiseled edges. This was nothing but a familiar ghost glaring through his soul. 

“Ro… please tell me this is a misunderstanding.” He didn’t want to beg, but those ice-cold eyes didn’t shift, only continued to bore into him. 

The werewolf’s silence, his indifference, was unsettling. It was rage-inducing. Something in him boiled.

“Answer me, you coward!” Seth pounded the glass, but it only warped under his fists. Obviously, the space was prepared for his outburst.

A sinister smile grew on the Samoan's face as he spoke to someone out of view, but Seth couldn’t hear him. Not until he pressed a button on an intercom. “Are you done?”

Seth frowned and crossed his arms, not dignifying him with an answer.

Roman frowned, “Back away from the glass.”

“Or what?”

The werewolf tilted his head, “Do you really want to test me?”

He did, but he needed to protect Mox more, so Seth backed away, maintaining eye contact with the werewolf. Roman needed to know that he was not backing down from a challenge, even though every synapse in his brain was screaming for him to run or hide from the situation. Now was not the time to panic. 

“Why isn’t Dean up yet?” It was a shame Roman didn’t even try to acknowledge Mox’s new identity. 

“Mox. And I dunno.” He kept his voice even, his chin up. Confident. He needed to be confident. “Are you working with Mr. Helmsley?”

“No.” Roman’s eyes flicked to Mox, “Wake him up.”

“He needs rest.” 

“Do it, Rollins!” Roman’s canines were on full display.

Seth opened his mouth to object, but decided against it, turning his attention to the man on the floor. The man he still loved. What was he going to tell Cody?

He swallowed the guilt bubbling up in his chest as, “Hey, hey, easy Dea– Mox.” He wracked his brain for what he wished someone told him when he woke up from feeding from his sire (he hated that term), but he was distracted by Mox immediately trying to bite into his wrist again, “No, you took too much already. Deep breaths, please, deep breaths for me...” he demonstrated the breathing, relieved as Mox followed along, “There you go.”

Time passed in a blur as Seth tried to reorient Mox to the present, the ever-present feeling of being watched causing his anxiety to spike. But he couldn’t deal with that right now. Not when Mox’s hands were clammy, and his skin was cold despite being covered in sweat. 

“Dean,” Roman started, ignoring the sight in front of him, “I decided that you needed to experience firsthand why I had to make the decision I did that night. I didn't want this to happen like this, but you forced my hand.”

Seth gritted his teeth and stood, facing the glass, “Roman, he doesn't– He can't understand you right now!” No, the groan Mox made when he let go didn’t pull at something in his gut. 

“Shut up,” a warning.

“Listen to me for once, damnit!” 

The werewolf growled, spitting onto the glass. But Seth pushed further, because that was all he knew how to do.

“Roman, if this is between us, leave him out of this. Please. Let him go. Don't do this to him.” Fuck, he was begging. “Don't turn him into a monster like me.”

“You already did that to him!” Those cold eyes were on him. “You know that, right? You ruined everything. It was all you. You’re the one who attacked him. You’re the one who got kidnapped. You’re the one who exposed him to our world. You’re the one who put him in danger. But he still thinks it's my fault.”

Suddenly, it all clicked into place. It could be the paranoia talking, or it just as easily could be an elaborate ruse to trick Mox back into Roman’s life. And werewolves were known for being possessive. 

“Is that what this is about? Proving that you have the moral high ground over that night?” 

“You don't deserve to be happy, Rollins!” He snapped, “And I'm willing to do anything to make sure you never escape the consequences of your actions. He's just collateral damage.”

Collateral. Damage. Mox was just a pawn in whatever game Roman was playing at. Seth’s jaw tightened, then he exploded in an unhinged cackle.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you, Big Dog?”

--//–

Roman didn’t have to deal with this. So he didn’t. He left Seth and his stupid Joker laugh, and whatever was left of Dean in the basement, and slowly made his way back up the stairs. He could hear Rollins’ venomous words taunting him, but he refused to engage. He’d said enough.

It was disgusting enough that he still cared about Dean, but to admit that Rollins still held a piece of his heart? He would rather keep that secret buried deeper than the graves they’d dug out back. 

The whole point of this was to prove to Dean that Seth couldn’t be trusted. He should see that now that he was afflicted with the bloodlust, right? He should be able to see Roman’s logic? Why Roman had to be the logical one of them? 

But no. Stubborn Ambrose. Stubborn vampires. Always had to learn things the hard way. He didn’t want to hurt Dean, quite the opposite. But he needed Dean to understand why Seth was dangerous. 

His ears perked up as he heard the Land Rover approach, and he smiled. Paul was chauffeuring a certain star-spangled monster hunter he’d anonymously hired right to his doorstep. 

If he couldn’t be happy, then Rollins sure as hell wasn’t allowed to be.