Written on Friday 2014.06.13, the day after Drew McIntyre and Jinder Mahal were released from WWE.

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THE PACT

Chapter One - The enemy of my enemies.

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Monday 2014.06.16

The moment Heath stepped into the meeting room at 8 am, all the conversations dropped dead. He felt every pair of eyes turning in his direction, and he decided he hated it. Creative team hadn't arrived yet, but the complete roster was there – those who still had a contract at least – trying to guess answers, wondering if they would still be employed by the end of the day. There were a lot pity for him in most of these eyes, but he could also read some hypocritical compassion, amusement, and also satisfaction from some people who had hated the fact he was getting so much TV time while they were relegated backstage – the fact they refused to do what he and his team accepted didn't seemed to count in their mental process. In his mind, he graved those names into stone.

"Heath… We're so sorry", Renee Young put her hand on his left shoulder, with a sad smile. He wasn't sure if she was 100% honest, but even if the relationship between her and 3MB hadn't start well, they had begun to tolerate each other as weeks turned to months, turned to almost two years. Heath simply nodded, trying not to speak, fearing that his voice would crack; in front of everyone. His gaze met Wade's on the other side of the room for a long second before the latter turned away and looked absentmindedly by the window. He knew how his former Nexus leader was feeling: they had both lost family, here.

Drew had been a long-time friend for Wade, since their debut in UK. They had teamed together, had been tag-team champions together. It's thanks to Drew that Wade and Heath had become friends, back when Heath was FCW number one, and Wade had just joined.

McIntyre's career had met a severe downfall due to his ex-wife, but everybody seemed to agree that 3MB had been his safety boat. Vince McMahon had once declared the Scottish was his Chosen One. After his Fall from Grace, the big boss had come up with this solution to save Drew: make him join Heath, with Jinder Mahal, and form a music band. Surprising at first, their band had worked well; getting a lot of victories in the beginning, a lot of video promos, interviews, appearances in every show… Then, they had caught the attention of John "Faction Killer" Cena, who had stopped their streak. The beginning of a long Hell for them. They've had their ups and downs; screams and storms sometimes too… But Heath had been part of Nexus and The Corre before. He had seen what NOT to do in a group, and had always come up with the words or ideas to keep the team together, no matter what. His team had outdated both Nexus and The Corre. He was proud of them. Even if Jinder was a bit lost sometimes. He loved them to death.

Recently, though, with the addition of Hornswoggle to their band, they had gained the favor of almost everyone. They were still losing, but their matches were so entertaining and funny, that the public was absolutely wild behind them. They were strange Heels. Used as clowns, cheating like mad, but loved by the crowd.

And even more recently, they had gotten plenty of opportunities to get their hands on their sworn enemies: The Shield; the trio which had reminded Heath of Nexus in the early days. This had had led him to feel some sympathy for them, until he had realized those men in black were not there to make friends, but to steal their job. 3MB had been an (almost) undefeated and powerful heel trio… but this is what The Shield wanted to be. In their "search for Justice", The Shield didn't care if they arrived in a domain already occupied. Instead of treating 3MB as allies against common enemies, they had attacked the musicians in the back. Treacherously. This has made Heath realize that they were in a universe of sharks with (very) long teeth. Smiles to his face, knives behind his back. No friend in here. Or not a lot. And when you were lucky to find people you could trust, you would do everything to keep them around.

Heath had tried everything to keep his team around.

And he had thought this was working. They had accepted anything Creative had thrown their way. Losing to almost everyone, getting one victory every seven or eight months. Being fed to the psychotic beast Brock Lesnar, to losing even to a dwarf in a bull outfit. They had accepted to look like clowns so that other people could shine. Heath had told his team to be patient. That their good work would be noticed. That one day, all their sufferings would be rewarded. And as long as they were together, it was easier to hold on.

And in the middle of what could strangely be considered as a push, they had received some Bad News. Not in the form of an Englishman on a podium, but in the form of two phone calls.

"We wish you all the best for your future endeavors".

Jinder had been the first to receive the call, and as soon as he had hung up, he had called his leader. By the time Heath had ended the conversation, his phone had rung again: Drew had received the same news.

They were all lost. They couldn't understand why this was happening. They had done nothing wrong. This had to be a nightmare.

Heath had spent the rest of the day watching his phone, fearing to receive the same call, seeing his life flashing before his eyes, thinking already of the consequences for him and his family. WWE was his life. He had given everything to that company. He had accepted to look weak. It had been years since the last time he had an opportunity to show his real potential. Which federation would remember his true value, and accept to give him a chance now?

And he had the same worries for his two team-mates. Maybe people would remember when Drew was the Chosen One and accept him somewhere else. TNA, ROH perhaps… But Jinder? Words were flying over the net that he had a weak health issue. And he hadn't gotten great matches in WWE. Who would want to hire him now?

They had accepted to look weak, because they had been promised better times to come. Better occasions to show their true selves. They had been lied to. Betrayed. Murdered.

His team-mates were his second family. They had been inexplicably butchered. All he had wanted was to get them to his house; hug them; trying to reassure them and find a solution like he had done countless of times for the past 629 days. But what words could be told to repair what had been done? Who was he to think he could reverse the trajectory of the sun? He should have been used by now to the surprise "Rocks Fall, Everybody Dies" type of decisions from WWE management. This was against what they had initially created the Nexus.

He closed his eyes. Today, he missed their black-and-golden army. Nothing like that would ever have happened if Nexus was still in power.

"It's your fault, all that!"

Words with a rather strong accent, pronounced loudly and not so far from him. Heath opened his eyes and discovered the Celtic warrior, Sheamus, speaking from his chair. The 3MB leader looked down at him and blinked, puzzled; other people in the crowd frowned, but Sheamus didn't give them the occasion to speak, he went on:

"Gimmicks like the team you were so proud of, they don't damage a career but they definitely hurt it. Badly".

"Sheamus, stop this!", Bo Dallas interfered, but Heath wasn't sure if he was sincerely defending 3MB, or just wanted to look like the bigger man while dancing inside on his misfortune. Due to the amused look in his eyes, Heath opted for the second idea.

Sheamus ignored the interruption and went on: "Everybody knows it: once you're in 3MB, it's kind of the end of the line. It's funny that you, out of all the guys, are the one who stayed."

Heath took the blow badly, but tried not to show anything. 'Tried' was the key word. He had never expected such hostility towards him. Especially in times like these where he had expected all of them to be supportive; with each others. Actually many voices asked Sheamus to shut up; that it wasn't something to say due to the circumstances… But Heath noted that none of them told Sheamus that he was wrong in his analysis. Were they all sharing his point of view?

"You and your music band idea are the cause of Drew's downfall, you bloody redneck!", the Irishman shout, advancing on the West Virginian as if he was about to hit him across the face.

"What?!", Heath felt rage rising inside of him and clenched his fists as Sheamus was almost on him. "Since when do we have any choice here?! 3MB was their idea!".

Sheamus was stopped by Wade who passed his arm around his throat and pulled him slightly backwards.

"Stop this, Sheamus. This won't bring Drew back, and Heath isn't responsible for Creative decision".

"But he never had the guts to ask for a better treatment for his mates!", the Celtic warrior answered loudly, pointing an accusing finger on the 3MB leader.

Then it hit Heath, the reason why Sheamus was aggressive was the same as why Wade was distant. The two of them had teamed with Drew since day one, back in Europe. Drew meant a lot to them. He was like a brother. And they were trying to cope with sadness the best they could: Wade by isolating himself, Sheamus by trying to find a culprit.

But if Heath's mind could understand their behavior, his heart couldn't. It wasn't enough to lose his teammates… his brothers; he was accused of it now? The silence from the rest of the roster in the meeting room was revealing.

He scanned the whole room in search for some kind of support, until he met Roman Reign's and Dean Ambrose's gazes. He realized that he was surely looking like a wounded gazelle in the savannah. And their predator looks only confirmed his thoughts. His team and The Shield had jumped at each other's throat on sight these past weeks. They were perhaps diminished by the (voluntary) departure of Seth Rollins, but they were still two.

And he was alone.

Hornswoggle was maybe still part of 3MB, but he had always refused to bring the little one in those battles against the Hounds of Justice, and he wouldn't start now. He would brace himself for one of the worst beatings of his life, alone, with stoicism.

And then it hit him. All the pieces seemed to fall together in a puzzle, revealing – if not the complete puzzle – at least an identifiable part of the big picture.

The Shield and 3MB had both been victims of the Authority. They had both been used by the Authority, and their loyalty had been rewarded by destruction. The Authority had broken both teams; The Shield by luring one of them against the other two, and 3MB by kicking out two members without any reason. Maybe if 3MB had shown the same potential dissention as The Shield had reveal in the past weeks, maybe The Authority would have just turned the musicians against each other, and let everybody keep their job.

But under his leadership, 3MB had never been animated by a thirst of power. He had dealt with his team just like in The Corre: everybody was equal; their goal was bigger than each individual composing the team, but each member was to be taken care of, never being abandoned behind. 3MB was all for one and one for all. The Shield looked more like The Nexus: fierce fighters, but in the end, everyone had been trying to pull the blanket for himself.

As Triple H and Stephanie McMahon entered the meeting room, their presence silencing any angry mouths, Heath felt his mind suddenly accelerating. Maybe the inner strength of 3MB had been Drew's and Jinder's downfall. But maybe it wouldn't be the end for him as well. All he had to do was thinking very fast. The Authority was enemy to both 3MB and The Shield. None of these teams was able to survive on their own now; 3MB due to a lack of strength and number, The Shield due to a lack of cohesion.

Other pieces of the puzzle were coming up together.

The Authority was perhaps thinking they had it in the bag, that soon no one would be able to stand anymore against them, if their opponents were first eliminated or diminished.

The Authority was dividing to reign. He was the cohesion force.

The Authority was trying to weaken their opponent. Ambrose and Reigns still had the power to bite.

And as Triple H started talking about the decision they had to take a few days ago according to "what's best for business", Heath Slater brought his gaze back to Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. For some long seconds, the enemies stared at each others. Then, Heath slowly nodded. After a long breath, Roman nodded too, followed by Ambrose.

Silent agreement.

They had no plan yet, but it didn't matter. Right plans would arrive in the right time. And the Authority would find it hard to swallow.

Because it is known: The enemy of my enemy is my ally.

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TO BE CONTINUED

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