A/N: The ending of Hell in a Cell begged for some aftermath to be written. This little diddy is what came tumbling out. Blood and knife play got involved so uh, if you don't like that sort of thing I'm giving you the heads up to turn back now.

Nobody had seen it coming. Not the fans. Not the announcers. Not the referee. Not Kane or Joey Mercury or Jamie Noble or Seth. Dean himself hadn't even seen it coming. It felt like he should have. He knew Bray Wyatt better than most. Better than he should have really. But he still hadn't seen it coming. Not at such a critical moment. He had Seth where he wanted him. After months of cat and mouse games, after nearly getting his career ended, after a grueling cell match-revenge was supposed to have been his. But here he was, sitting backstage as the fucking loser yet again. All because of Bray. And he couldn't fathom why. He was the only one in the locker room who had seen the guy since his disappearing act (he wasn't counting Rowan or Harper because they had fallen off the face of the earth as well), and there hadn't been the slightest hint that this was coming. Not that he could recall anyway. He racked his brain, trying to remember anything beyond the revenge fueled daze he had been in. Nothing was springing to mind. He couldn't think of a god damn thing that he had done to Bray to deserve that bullshit.

A frustrated cry left him as he punched the wall. Bray knew what this match had meant to him. He fucking knew how bad he had wanted the win. Revenge had been driving Dean for so long. It had been right there. Right fucking there in his grasp. And now it was gone. Seth had won. And he would gloat and act like he had done it all on his own. Onscreen at least. Away from the cameras he would gleefully point out that Dean's own boyfriend (which did not feel like the right term for their relationship but it was the simplest one to use) had helped him attain the victory. He couldn't even trust the guy he crawled into bed with every night. Of course, everyone and their mother had been telling him for ages not to trust Bray. But staying away from people who were bad for him had never been his strong suit. His personal relationship with Seth had been toxic since their FCW days. His obsession with William Regal had pretty much ended with Regal's in ring career in shambles and Dean nearly locked away because he had been that far gone. His thing with Bray though, was seemingly taking the cake. Roman was simultaneously furious at him for being so dumb and scared to death for his well being. Roman's entire family at one point or another had sat him down to try to talk some sense into him. Renee, Brie and AJ sent him constant texts, trying to make sure he was okay. People like Jericho, Bryan and even the god damn Big Show were checking up on him or trying to talk him out of the mess he had fallen into. The only thing the concern was doing though was completely throwing him off. The concept of anyone giving a damn about him, much less a group of them, was something that his mind didn't really comprehend.


Dean turned around to see Naomi standing behind him. Fuck. If this was going to be a "we told you so" lecture he was going to scream. He couldn't handle that right now. He just couldn't.

"Are you okay?" She put a hand on his arm, not letting him flinch away. "You scared us half to death out there." She tried to be somewhat playful in her scolding, but none of it was reaching her eyes. "I told you not to be falling off the damn cell."

"Yeah, well uh...whoops." Dean shrugged his shoulders and cast a look around the hallway.

"We haven't seen him." Now they were getting down to business. "Jimmy and Jey tried to get him. He's gone though."

Of course he was. Bray wasn't looking to have anyone else get him. If Dean wanted answers, he had to do the hunting himself.

"Don't go to him." Naomi grabbed his hands, lacing her fingers with his and squeezing tightly. "Come with me and Jimmy tonight. Or Jey. Or AJ. Hell, go kill Heath and stay with Titus for all I care. Just don't go to him."

"I have to."

"No! Dean no. Come on." Naomi squeezed his hands more tightly. It almost started to hurt actually, but he wasn't looking to complain. "You need to stay away from him." She moved her head, making sure to keep her eyes locked on his no matter where he tried to look. "It doesn't matter why he did it. There was no good reason for it. He attacked you in front of everyone. Lord knows what he'll do if he gets you alone."

It wasn't that she was wrong. She was painfully right in fact. But he had to let her down and mumble under his breath before walking off. He couldn't just go bunk with someone and call it a night. He had to know why. It was eating away at him, making his insides twist and turn and his skin crawl. Images of Bray coming out at the darkness kept rearing themselves around in his brain. He couldn't just leave it alone without hearing some sort of explanation. He had to hear the reason. He didn't know what exactly he was going to do once he heard it, but the hunt for Bray would give him something to do in the mean time.

Dean grabbed his stuff from his locker room and made it out of the arena without being stopped by anyone else. Cena tried to say something to him, surprising him, but he dodged that bullet and got to his car without talking to the newly crowned number one contender. He didn't need fucking Cena lecturing him too. He could deal with it from some people, but the king of goody two shoes? No. Fuck that. He threw his bags into the back seat before getting in the driver's seat. His hands were shaking, a fact that he had been blind to until he tried to jam the key into the ignition. "Fuck!" The key just slipped completely out of his hand and fell to the floor. He picked it up and tried to get it in again. This time he ended up trying to put it in upside down. "Fucking damn it!" He set the key down on his lap and gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. He had to stop shaking. He had to breathe. Deep breath in. Slowly let it out. In. Out. In. Out. He kept doing it over and over until the shaking finally subsided. He wasn't absolutely perfectly calm, but he could function now at least. He grabbed the keys and finally got the car started, taking a moment to take another deep breath before actually starting to drive.

The drive back to the hotel was one of the longest blurs he had ever been stuck in. While it was never safe to assume anything with Bray, Dean figured that checking his room was as good of a place as any. And as it turned out, he was right. He opened his door and immediately saw Bray. He was in the corner, sitting in his rocking chair. Bray didn't look at all apologetic for what he had done. He just stared at Dean, seemingly waiting to see what Dean was going to do. Dean let his bag drop to the floor and slammed the door shut behind him. Anger rose like a wild fire inside of him. Seth betraying him had nearly fucking killed him. Bray fucking knew it. Yet he had butted in, not just costing him the match but attacking him. How dare he. How fucking dare he.

"You fucking BASTARD!" Any attempt of keeping calm went right out the window. Dean lunged forward, launching himself at Bray before he could even move. He jumped him right on the rocking chair, fists flying furiously. He wanted to rip Bray apart. Tear his withered, black heart out of his chest. How fucking dare him? How dare he do this to him? The why didn't matter anymore. Dean just wanted to hurt him. "Fuck you! Fuck you fuck you fuck you FUCK FUCK FUCK YOU!"

Strong hands pressed against his chest and shoved him off. He rolled right back to his feet, but for as quick as he was, Bray moved even quicker. Bray crashed into him, fists flying on both ends now. They rolled across the floor, scrambling for some resemblance of control. The fight for control though wasn't one Dean ever won. Bray got him on his back, his weight settled over Dean's hips while he pinned his hands down above his head. Dean struggled against him, despite knowing the effort was futile. When Bray got him where he wanted him, he stayed there.

"Do I have your attention now little lamb?" Bray tightened his grip to the point where it really fucking hurt. His voice was low. Dangerously low. And he had Dean right where he wanted him. Shit. Shit shit shit.

"Why?" Dean's voice cracked halfway through the word. "I had him. I fucking had him."

"I know you had him." Bray pressed his weight more down on his hands, making the pressure on Dean's wrists unbearable.

"So WHY?"

"You really don't know?"

"No!" Dean was nearly ready to sob in frustration.

Bray heaved a sigh. "I watched the two of you since the beginning you know. I had my eyes on this little universe long before I made myself known. I watched your obsession grow. Even when you hate him, you're just consumed by him." He tilted his head to the side. "He left you for Roman, yet your mind and heart still screamed for him. He left you both for the fame and glory, yet you cling to him. You can't stand the fact that he doesn't love you. He NEVER loved you. He loved the brute more than you,
though not as much as he loves himself." He chuckled bitterly. "For months I've listened to you scream for him. Your mind, you heart, your blood-you scream to be his when you're mine." His eyes flashed dangerously. "You're MINE."

Dean just stared up at him incredulously. "...You did this because you're jealous?" He shook his head, the movement not making it sink in any better. "Are you kidding me?"

"Every night I see into your little dreams." Bray wasn't actually going to confirm any jealousy. Not that he needed to really. "You lay in my arms and wish they were his. You twist the knife deeper and deeper and you know what darlin? I just couldn't take it anymore." He leaned down so his face hovered right above Dean's. "I had to twist the knife back in you."

Dean had no idea what to say. Bray's face right up to his made his brain short-circuit, rendering him speechless. This was an entirely fucked up reason to get screwed over, but what had he really expected? Especially considering how fucking possessive Bray was...shit. He swallowed hard and turned his head to the side. Bray's eyes on him were too intense. This entire thing was too intense. Bray's grip was torture on his arms, the vice grip cutting off his circulation. This was entirely too much. But that was always the case in anything he got himself into. Terrible and toxic relationships were his specialty. His entire saga with Seth was a tragedy worthy of Shakespeare. Regal had nearly driven him mad. And now there was Bray. Bray, who was probably the most dangerous of them all. He was the one who wanted to consume him. And consume him he most likely would. There was no escape. That was what everyone didn't get. People could scream all day and night about how he could walk away without understanding that he would never be just let go.

"You are mine until I give you up-and I won't do that. Not even after my final breath."

Dean almost didn't notice when Bray moved off him. He heard the larger man say something under his breath. The sound of his footsteps filled the room. Back and forth. His eyes wild. He kept his eyes on Dean as he walked, the look on his face positively feral. Dean didn't even dare to move from his spot on the floor. He just laid there, his arms stretched out above his head, his eyes fixated nervously on Bray. Back and forth. Back and forth Bray kept pacing. The silence between them was suffocating. He wasn't sure what to do. Was he being expected to apologize? Bray was pinning this as his fault. But he didn't want to apologize. He wasn't sorry for trying to get revenge. Seth had made a fool out of him. Seth toyed with him. Took the faith he entrusted to him and broke it just for fun. But Bray just looked so fucking angry. The fury in his gaze made him shiver. He didn't fucking like that look being directed at him. It twisted him up inside, making him feel even worse than before.

Bray's eyes stayed on him as he got up. Dean's arms still ached from Bray's grip but he ignored it. His knees felt incredibly weak under him. It felt like he should say something. Yell, scream, bite the bullet and like, apologize for driving Bray crazy-just anything to break the silence. All the words died in his throat though. The fight in him did too. He just stood there, painfully aware that he probably looked like a scolded and kicked puppy. Shoulders were slumped, his hand going up to rub his collarbone in a jerky, circular motion, eyes downcast. The anger that had flared went down to a dull roar. For as much as he found himself wanting to get out of this, thoughts of driving Bray to actually let him go frightened him. If someone as obsessive as Bray actually tossed him aside like everyone else, that really said that the problem was, is and always would be him. That was all he was used to. It had happened so many times that he knew the problem really was him, but he didn't need this latest confirmation of it. He was too weak to take another instance of it. Losing Seth had driven him over a brand new edge. If it happened again, he didn't see a way of coming back from it at all.

The distance between them closed. Dean didn't even know which one of them moved. Bray's lips crashed against his, drawing a whimper from Dean's lips. His fingers grabbed Bray's shirt and twisted it tightly. The kiss devoured him and that was okay. He surrendered to it. It was always a touch or a kiss that got him in even deeper. One little thing from Bray would shoot through his system, settling in his blood, his bones, his entire fucking being. It made him return the kisses desperately. The anger is still there, but he was already burying it deep inside. If he couldn't have revenge then he needed something. He couldn't handle the hollowness that came with nothing.

"Mine," Bray growled between kisses. His hands were all over the place, pressing Dean against him while ripping away his clothes. "Mine." Bray's teeth grabbed his bottom lip and pulled roughly. "All mine." Dean's shirt tore and fell in pieces on the floor. "Not his." His hands worked on Dean's jeans next, yanking them down before they were even completely unbuttoned or unzipped. Dean helped kick them away as his own hands tugged on Bray's shirt. The touch of skin against skin was searing. Bray was still talking, mumbling dangerously possessive words the whole time. They fell back on to the bed, Bray's mouth moving down to Dean's neck. Kissing, sucking, biting; Dean was going to have a hell of a time trying to cover them up tomorrow. He tried to move Bray's head down so he could mark his chest instead. Bray wasn't about to budge though. He stayed right where he was, stubbornly marking every inch of Dean's neck that he possibly could. "The world will know you're mine."

Dean's heart hammered inside his chest. He ran his hands up and down Bray's back, bitten down nails dragging down it slowly. A pleased grunt escapes Bray. Dean did it again, this time shifting around as much as Bray's weight would allow. His legs spread, allowing the larger man to settle in between them more comfortably. Dean could hear his phone going off in the background. Maybe it was Naomi checking on him. Or Roman. Shit. Roman. He had promised the other man that win or lose, he would get a hold of him after the match. Fuck. Roman was probably at home going crazy because he hadn't been in touch. But there was no way Dean was going to get the chance to tell him he was alright. Bray wasn't about to let him up. Bray cast a glare back in the direction of the phone before putting his mouth back on Dean's body. Teeth bit down harshly, drawing blood and creating bruises all over the place. Dean whimpered and jumped with each new bite, but he didn't try to push Bray away. Instead he lifted his, helping to get rid of his boxers before trying to rid Bray of the rest of his clothes. He was going to hate himself for this later. That would be then though. For now, his body was burning with so much need that he couldn't even begin to think straight.

And suddenly Bray was gone. He stood up, backing away from the bed and grabbing his bag. Dean's heart lurched in his chest and his eyes widened. The fearful look made Bray smile. "What? You think I'm going somewhere?" The smile got bigger as Dean just kept watching him. "Relax darlin. I'm just grabbing something."

Dean just kept his eyes locked on him. Bray grabbed his bag and started to reach inside of it. "...Bray?"

"Do you trust me little lamb?"

Dean nodded. He didn't know whether there was some insane part of him that actually did so, or if he just knew that was what Bray wanted to hear. But then again, if Bray thought he was lying, he wouldn't just accept it. That wasn't his way.

Bray's smile only got bigger. From the bag came a silver dagger. Dean felt his heart leap up inside his chest at the sight of it. He gripped the sheets underneath him tightly. The blade of the knife seemed to shimmer against the harsh fluorescent lights of the room. This wasn't the first time they had done something like this. But the other times Bray hadn't attacked him earlier in the night. What if this was it? What if Bray just stuck an actual knife in his chest? Dean could imagine it. He could see it clearly in his mind. But still he didn't run. He stayed put, a sense of calm settling over him as Bray came closer. Maybe something in him knew that Bray wouldn't actually do it. Or maybe there was a part of him that actually hoped Bray would do it. Maybe he could finally be at peace if it was done.

The bed dipped as Bray rejoined him. The tip of the dagger was placed over his heart. Dean's chest rose and fell rapidly, his head feeling light as he couldn't get enough oxygen to his brain. Bray dragged the blade down slowly, thankfully choosing to go around the nipple instead of slicing that too. Dean hissed and squeezed his eyes shut. The pressure wasn't enough to make any of the cuts fatal. At least not yet. But there was no way he would be able to wrestle shirtless any time soon. Maybe not ever. Not with the way Bray liked to reopen wounds. There were scars on his thighs from where they had played these games before. Dean expected Bray to go down there once again. But there was no rush for that tonight. Instead the knife stayed on his stomach, Bray watching the blood flow freely. The cuts were slow and deliberate, Bray taking his time to admire what he was doing. Dean squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to see the blood. He was used to bleeding, but at the moment he couldn't endure it.

"Mine." Bray's growl made him shiver. "Not his."

The knife was moving deliberately. It wasn't just cutting; it was carving something into him. Dean focused on it, trying to figure out what it was. B...R...A...Y...oh dear jesus. Bray was carving his own fucking name into him. Dean shuddered and whimpered, not daring to stop the larger man even as his mind screamed for it. Bray wasn't going to let him forget. Nobody would ever get to forget.

"Perfect." Bray moved the knife away and smeared Dean's blood around with his fingers. Dean kept his eyes shut, not daring to open them until he felt the blade being pressed against his lips.

"Look at me little lamb."

Dean obeyed. His eyes met Bray's and time suddenly seemed to stop. Bray kept the blade at his mouth, pushing it forward just enough to make Dean's lip bleed. Dean whimpered but didn't try to push him away. His body shut down on him. His mind was at a blank, consumed by the tension and fear and anxiety. The only thing on him that worked was his tongue, which moved past his parted lips to slowly lick his own blood off the blade. He had no earthly idea what made him do it. He wasn't even fully aware he was doing it until Bray started to laugh.

"You are a marvelous work of art." Bray tossed the knife away and kissed him again. Teeth clashed and Dean's head nearly spun from how hard Bray's mouth captured his. Large fingers smeared the blood around more before the hand attached to them moved down between Dean's legs. He whimpered as the fingers slipped into him, roughly fucking him as they kissed. They were never gentle with each other by any means, but tonight something felt different. Harder and rougher even with Bray bothering to prep him. Dean didn't know what it was. Maybe his senses were so on fire it was making him oversensitive. Fuck it. He didn't fucking know. What he knew was he tried to close his eyes, only to have them fly back open when Bray moved his fingers away and slammed his cock in him roughly.

"Look at me darlin." Bray grabbed his chin so he couldn't turn his head. "Look at me."

Dean looked. There was no other choice but to look. Bray pressed his forehead to his, his eyes burning past his to sear into his brain. Their mouths hovered over each other, threatening to close in to kiss or bite once more. Bray's thrusts were hard and fast, jolting Dean's body with every slam in. He dug his nails into Bray's back, desperate to make him bleed in return. Dean felt Bray's lips twitched and suddenly the knife was back into play. Bray put it in Dean's hand and then kept his hand over Dean's as he let Dean cut him in return. Dean's eyes widened. This was new. A very new ball game that Dean wasn't sure he knew the meaning of. Dean wasn't looking to examine it now. He just watched the knife move, the blood dripping down from Bray's chest to mix with his.

"We're bound together now little lamb." Bray took full control of the knife back and tossed it away. "See?" He wiped more blood from his chest and pressed it against Dean's cuts. "I'm in you and-" he swiped some of Dean's blood and pressed it against his own cuts "you're in me."

He was absolutely out of his fucking mind. Dean already knew that, but the new wave of confirmation got to him. His head surged up, initiating the kiss this time. He should not be encouraging this. Not at all. But if there was one thing he was good at was falling deeper into trouble.

Bray was surprised only for a moment by Dean making the first move this time. He regained composure and control quickly, his hands grabbing Dean's and lacing their fingers together. Dean whimpered. His cock begged to be touched, but he wasn't getting that tonight. He had to cum from just Bray, which wasn't actually a problem. A slight change of angle and a few more powerful thrusts did him in. Bray's name passed his lips, the word almost a full fledged scream. Bray dropped his head into the crook of Dean's neck, his movements not ceasing until his own release was poured into Dean. His grip on Dean's hands loosened, and he dropped down, his weight effectively pinning Dean to the mattress. The tension in the room was broken, leaving them to gasp for breath. Bray's mouth moved against his neck, though it took Dean awhile to realize just what it was he was saying.

"Mine. All mine."