Survivor Series spoilers ahead!
So…should I really say anything more about SS last night and how it was too predictable? I will say this though: the one victory I got was Ambreigns staying alive and well. Don't get me wrong I think it would be neat to see those two feuding eventually, but I love my boys being there for each other. Anyway, wrote this last night so mind the mistakes and all.
Everything was perfect. Everything was a dream come true. All of the anticipation, years of hard earned work, reaching the top of the mountain that had a slippery slope that made it hard to climb. But he made it to the top. For what seemed like an eternity up in the clouds with greatness on his shoulders, the weight of the world, his prize.
He went head-to-head with his brother, the only one who could match him well and, frankly, the one he would always want to face. Not as a competitive battle to see which of the both of them would be considered the alpha dog in the business, not as a bias since they knew each other so well and knew that neither of them would cheat for a victory. No. It was always a blast when they were in the ring together. Whether it was a tag team with him in his corner or one on one, it never mattered.
Being in the ring together was always a blast for them where they would mess around like kids in the playground, where they could mess around like brothers. Only with brotherhood and the fighting, they vowed never to let some championship come between their kinship. Nothing would put a chip in their chains that linked them. Not even this.
And it was going great. Whatever the end result of this match was it didn't matter. Win or lose, one of them was going to be the champ, the top dog. They were both competitors trying to reach up and grab the prize that cemented them in this business, to give them that push they've been yearning for since arriving in the company. But regardless of which one of then were to grab it first they would both bask in the glory together.
They scratched and clawed their way up to get to this point in their careers and they would put on one hell of a match to prove just how much heart both of them had. Whoever touched gold first wouldn't succumb to egotistical tendencies or pomposity. They were far better than that, and it was everything that they were against. Having things handed to you in life like a piece of candy wasn't how to earn a living. You had to work your ass off to get what you want, not have it all served to you on a silver platter.
That's what they did. They fought their asses off to the end, until every drop of sweat fell from their bodies and onto the mat, until they couldn't fight anymore and then some. One of them had to win, but it was a fair match with equal results. It was like a stalemate but one had to win. And one did.
The rush had been so extreme that Roman swore he wasn't even conscious when he heard his name being declared as the winner and the owner of the title. After all the bullshit with the Authority and all the setbacks and circumstances leading up to this moment he finally reached the top. But he wasn't a glutton for the glory and forgetting everything he did to get to the spot. Or that one person who had been there for him like always, right by his side and the one who took him to the limit in this match.
His blood brother Dean.
They knew that one way or another they would be the ones in the squared circle facing off for the championship, whether it was now or even months later in the Royal Rumble or even Wrestlemania. At some point in their lives they would go head to head for the belt, and it happened tonight. It could have went either way and they were content with that. There would be no feelings of jealousy for one another depending on who was the one to claim the vacated prize. Just celebrating that one of them had reached the top and could finally put an end to the corrupt business they were signed to, to put and end to the Authority.
Not much longer after the match had ended Roman had the belt cradled in his hands, the reward finally his own. He didn't fight back on the tears in his eyes for achieving something he always dreamt of claiming a child and thought would never come into his life. But it was here, it was real, and it was his.
Dean was right there beside him with a proud smile on his face, tears brimming his own eyes as well. He knelt down and wrapped his arm around Roman's shoulders, bringing him close to press his forehead against his temple.
"Hey," he said with a breathless chuckle, bordering on the sound of a sob. He moved his hand up to his head and parted it in an attempt to stifle his nerves. "Hey…you did it, man."
"I…I can't believe it," Roman choked out.
"You did it, brother, you made it. That's my boy," Dean said as he pressed a kiss to the top of Roman's head. "I love you, okay? Don't ever forget that. You're the champ, man. You'll always be the champ."
More tears fell from Roman's eyes, ones of joy and complete wonderment. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn't get a word out. He was too chuffed. His mind was still trying to catch up with the whirlwind around them. The crowd was cheering loudly and applauding them for their performance and he felt like he could live in this moment forever. He would treasure it and savor every second.
"This is your moment," Dean told him. He pulled back and helped Roman to his feet. "Live in it, man. Live it."
He extended his fist for his brother to bump and he returned the gesture. "Stay," Roman said. "Not a true celebration without my best friend."
"No, man, the spotlight's for you," Dean said. "Besides, I've got us a little party planned backstage and some other stuff. It's gonna be a long night." He patted Roman's chest. "A night befitting a champion."
Roman grinned before his brother walked out of the ring with a proud smile on his face. Confetti burst from above and rained down on him in the center of the ring and he laughed. He could stay in this moment forever.
But then his brief reign came crashing down moments later.
Roman turned around to see Triple H coming down the ramp and making his way inside the ring. His night was going so well and he was feeling good about himself, and his stomach began to churn at the sight of the COO. The businessman even offered him a congratulatory smile and extended his hand for a shake of gratitude. Roman just stared at him. Why would he want to shake hands with the man who was running this place and abusing his power? The man who just wanted to hand him the title without working for it, who was the leader of the Authority. No. He couldn't be trusted.
So he responded by giving the man a spear. Seemed appropriate. But Roman had been caught up in the daze of being champion and slamming the boss that he didn't even realize Sheamus had slithered into the ring and attacked him. He heard something about the briefcase being cashed in but his head was swimming so fast he heard sounds beginning to distance themselves from his ears. He remembered rising to his feet but he didn't stay there much longer until he was brought down hard.
It was over. His reign had come to an end. A five minute reign as champion. How the fuck did he let this happen? He rolled over to find his belt, the one he earned, now in the hands of the Irishman. Triple H stood beside the newly crowned champion with a stern look. Of course. Should have seen this coming. Waiting until the two bastards left Roman stood on his knees and shook his head. The crowd offered faint applause for him and his efforts, but it wasn't enough.
Exiting the ring he made his way backstage to his locker room. He should have figured that it wouldn't be this easy. Not that it actually was, he had to get through his brother and that was no easy walk in the park. This little world that the Authority has created needed to come to an end. He found his locker room and opened the door. He was immediately greeted by streamers falling on his head. He frowned but then realized Dean was standing to the side with a balloon animal in one hand and a beer in the other.
"There's the champ!" he exclaimed with a wide grin, but it soon faltered when he noticed the belt was nowhere in sight. "Where's the championship? You didn't sell it to the New Day, did you? Those guys love taking the gold from anyone. One time they tried to get a hand on my golden magic 8 ball and—"
"Don't have it anymore," Roman answered flatly.
"What d'you mean?"
"Sheamus took it," Roman told him. "He cashed in his money in the bank case and…that's all she wrote."
Dean blinked a few times and dropped his balloon animal and lowered his beer, a sour look on his face. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."
Roman shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "You obviously didn't have the tv on."
"I was setting up our party. I needed to make a few calls to some guys to let us in some bars later." Dean laughed but there was no humor in it. "Of course. Big man in the suit and tie always stickin' his big nose in everything just so the Authority doesn't let that belt slip from their fingers."
"We should have seen this coming, uce. I just didn't expect it so soon, but that was foolish of me to turn a blind eye to that."
"Dammit, I'm sick of this shit. We need to start a coup or something. Bring out all the pitchforks and torches and just tear the place down."
"Dean—"
"No, hear me out," Dean interrupted, taking a step back to set his beer down with a wild look in his eyes. "We can get some of the guys to join us—"
"That's not—"
"No, you're right. Who needs anyone else back here? We can take them on by ourselves. We'll get your belt back, dawg. You earned it so you're gonna get it back even if I have to stomp through herds of security guards—"
"Dean, stop," Roman said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"You earned that title fair and square and some Ronald McDonald is gonna come in and…oh, Jesus Christ! We'll make him respect our five finger death punches, how's that? Maybe knock that stupid hawk off his head. Come on, let's sharpen some forks or something."
Dean walked past Roman with that murderous glare behind his disheveled shaggy hair but Roman stopped him by grabbing his arm.
"Don't," he told him firmly. "Just leave it."
"Ain't you pissed off?" Dean asked. "You got robbed, man!"
"Yeah, I am. How could I not be? But…we can't do anything about it right now. We have to wait until tomorrow night."
Dean sighed. "I could still find a truck to barrel in here."
"A truck?"
"Yeah, maybe one full of peaches. We're in Georgia, you know, the place is loaded with them on trees and in stores. I could pummel the boss's office with them. Or go out and find some fireworks and blow it up."
Roman chuckled. Leave it to his crazy little brother and his outrageous ideas. "No, thanks. We'll handle this other ways."
"Next time?"
"Sure. Next time."
Dean nodded. "Just remember, man, no matter what happens you'll always be my brother and a champion."
"Same for you, uce. Believe that."
They bumped fists again before embracing each other again. It sucked having a dream be tarnished so quickly and have everything be taken away from him. But Roman was fortunate to still have his brother with him through thick and thin. Always. They pulled back and Dean ruffled Roman's hair.
"Night's still young," he said. "Not everything went as it should have been…at least it was, but then it was ruined by Casper, but we can still catch some beers."
"Sounds good to me," Roman said. "We'll worry about everything tomorrow night."
"We might need to take a lot of shots for that to happen."
"You're buying."
"I know. Loser buys the beers, remember?
Roman tilted his head. "Technically we both lost tonight."
Dean nudged his shoulder with his fist. "Hey, don't ever say that. You still won, you were just screwed over. There's a difference. You heard what I told you earlier: you'll always be the champ in my eyes. You're gonna get that belt back even if I have to run around with a blow torch."
"Please don't do that. You'll be taken out of here in a straight jacket."
Dean narrowed his eyes. "Why would they do that? I'm not crazy. Why does everyone think I'm crazy? What's so crazy about me?"
Roman rolled his eyes and patted his brother's shoulder. He was still aggravated about what went down tonight with having his dream come crashing down on him, but his little brother was always good at making him feel better and helping him through the ache. He didn't want to dwell too much on it right now. It was going to kill him later on but he needed to get to calm himself down before he exploded.
They'd deal with this shit tomorrow night. Right now they had some dates with some bottles of beers.
