Lock up the Wolves, a wrestling fanfic

Lock up the Wolves

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: The wrestlers own themselves; the respective companies own the gimmicks. I only own this story and make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated T for slash, some mentions of underage elements, language, etc.

Pairings: Trent Seven/Pete Dunne, Trent Seven/Tyler Bate, Pete Dunne/Tyler Bate, Trent Seven/Tyler Bate/Pete Dunne, mentions of Shinsuke Nakamura/Sami Zayn/Kevin Owens, Roman Reigns/Bray Wyatt, one-sided Dean Ambrose/Bray Wyatt.

Setting: Post-2/15/2017 NXT and stuff well before the United Kingdom Tournament.

Summary: "Sit and listen to my Tale." "What is it a tale of?" "Something I've only ever seen the once; three people, all entwined together. Three souls bound and bound and bound..."

A/N: Title taken from the song of the same name by Dio.

Part Ten of Unmei.

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"Sit and listen to my Tale."

"What is it a tale of?"

"Something I've only ever seen the once; three people, all entwined together. Three souls bound and bound and bound..."

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The last thing he expected to happen on his way back from the nearest corner store was to find people fighting in an alleyway. Not that fighting was unusual in the city; but the fact that there was fighting here was. By now Pete had made damn sure (after fighting damn near everyone around) that the only fighting was to be done in the ring. So to see fighting outside that was surprising to him. He can't see their faces as they're scuffling.

"Hey!" He finally says, startling both of the people fighting. One of them takes off in the opposite direction, running as if their life depended on it. The other starts to stir from their position on the ground. "You alright?"

The person starts to stand up.

He stares.

The young man looks at him, sporting a bruised cheek, a possible black eye and a cut lip and instantly Trent's world changes.

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He knows instantly what the feeling is that hits him like a truck. But even having experience with it still doesn't take away from the experience it offers, the overwhelming experience of it all. He had never expected to ever feel it again; which made sense, since he was talking about his Soulmate.

He hadn't known someone could have two.

"I'm okay." And a frission hits through him again, at hearing his voice. He nearly closes his eyes against it. There was no doubt that he was... "Better off than that arsehat, anyhow."

He's young, is Trent's first thought. A teenager, younger than Pete. The irony of the fact that both (and wasn't that word a shocking one!) of his Soulmates were younger than him was not lost on him. Nor the fact that he had met them both when they were both teenagers. Whoever, if anyone, decided on someone's Soulmate or Soulmates, then they certainly had a weird sense of humor when it came to picking Trent's!

Before he can say anything else, the younger man walks right up to him, making him stiffen in shock at his nearness. He looks at Trent intently for a moment, head tilted.

"What?" He asks, more hoarsely than he'd like to.

The younger man smiles at him suddenly, taking his breath from him.

"I like your mustache."

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"So what are you doing around here? For that matter, where are you even from?" He asks the young man as he starts to walk out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk proper (with the younger man following him, walking side by side with him.)

"To answer you in reverse, because that's always fun, I'm from Dudley," That wasn't far from where they currently were in Wolverhampton. "And I'm here to join Fight Club: PRO." Which was his and Pete's promotion. He wanted to join their promotion? He feels the damndest sort of pride in his chest at that.

"Your parents? They approve of all this, then?" They took younger guys and girls on at the promotion quite often, so it wasn't unusual, but...perhaps it was...okay, he couldn't even lie to himself; it was, without a doubt, him wanting to know more about him.

"Nope!" The younger man says, quite cheerfully, considering what he was saying. "Got myself emancipated from them a few months ago. Didn't want to support what I loved. And..." He trails off, eyes distant.

"And?" He prompts.

He glances back at Trent, a serious look in his eyes before shrugging and smiling once more. "And I didn't like that, so I got away from that!"

"And just how old are you then?"

"Fifteen. Be sixteen in March."

Fifteen. Bloody fucking Christ, but he was young. And it wasn't like Trent was even old, but at thirty one he felt like a bloody veteran compared to him. He was even younger than Pete's twenty-one.

They were nearing the warehouse that both housed the promotion, as well as the training and other things besides. He stops near the back door, looking over at him.

"Just one more question then-till we get inside at least."

"Yes?"

No worries, Trent; just one of the most important questions you'll ever ask somebody.

"What's your name?"

He smiles at Trent again and it's like the sun has parted the clouds. He feels complete.

"I'm Tyler."

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It isn't until he lets Tyler in through the back, groceries still in hand, that he realizes something.

"I haven't told you my name, have I?" He asks aloud. It wasn't like he exactly assumed Tyler would know his name (Soulmates generally didn't work that way, from what he saw. At least for him and Pete), just that he had been so taken in the moment that he had forgotten to tell something very important to this very important person to him.

Tyler laughs (which makes Trent have to use all his-tremendous, if he said so himself-acting chops to keep from letting it show on his face how something so simple was affecting him), looking amused.

"I'm pretty sure I know the face of one of the co-owners of the place." Tyler teases. "The mustache gives it away."

"Ahh!" He exclaims. "Now how can I ever show my face at the barber again?!"

Tyler laughs again, eyes bright and Trent just wants to-

"Who's the whelp?" Pete's voice cuts in, in an ugly tone. They both turn to see him approach the two of them, sweat running down his brow from where he had obviously been working out in the ring. He wipes at his face almost absently with a towel in his hand, eyes on the two of them.

"Tyler. Tyler Bate." Tyler says cheerfully, despite Pete's tone and demeanor, extending out his hand for Pete.

Pete looks down at the hand and huffs, turning to look at Trent, obviously dismissing Tyler offhand. His chest clenches. Could he...how could he not know? Tyler was... Or was he somehow just his? But that didn't feel right to him. It felt like it was all three of them.

"Newbie's your job; I've already taken on enough people lately." Pete says.

Trent shrugs, as best as he can with his hands full anyhow. "I'm fine with that." More than fine, really.

With that, Pete nods, grabbing an apple out of Trent's bag and bites on it, walking off without another look at Tyler. He doesn't see the shuttered expression on Tyler's face, watching Pete walk away, that clears when he turns back to face him.

"Sorry about that." He feels the need to apologize for Pete's...Peteness. "We've been a bit busier than usual lately and that can be a bit stressful."

"No worries." Tyler says. "Still, regardless of the circumstances, it was great to meet the other owner of the place. Maybe next time'll be better."

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Next time wasn't better. If anything, Pete was somehow even colder the next time. After getting Tyler settled into one of the free rooms in the place (sometimes they let those who couldn't afford their own places to stay at some rooms they had made up, further back in the warehouse) and doing his best not to have a mental breakdown over what move to make next, he starts with him the next day in the ring.

Nothing too flashy; just a few simple rest holds and a few drops, both to get him adjusted to the pain and to see how well he dealt with the pain. Many times-he'd seen it many times-people'd give up and quit after a few drops. Sometimes from the very first (which, to be fair, was always the worst one. That initial shock to your body as it deals with a pain it's never dealt with before. After that, it gradually got better and better until your body is completely conditioned to it and hitting the mat, outside of your opponent putting some extra pain on you, doesn't bother you anymore.)

He's seriously pleased at the progress already. It was both clear that Tyler had never wrestled before and that he was good at it, even just this little bit. The passion alone he was exhibiting-which Trent considered one of the most important things, if not the most important-made him know that he was going to be something special; the brightness in his eyes, his smile when he does something he knows, by Trent's face, that he got right. It made him happier and happier with each passing moment, if that was possible. So many times, as they gradually move past the simple bumps into a few other things, it's on the tip of his tongue to say; this is it. This is everything. Surely you can feel it too, can't you? This is special.

The words I love you are on his mind when Pete walks up to the ring. He hadn't seen him since last night, which wasn't all too unusual, as Pete often slept on his own (in either a bed in one of the spare rooms or on the fold up in the office.) Not that Trent was happy about that, but sometimes it felt best to leave that point be. He loved Pete more than anything, but to say he sometimes showed an acerbic personality was an understatement of the highest order.

"Did you at least get the deposit from him before he runs off with his tail between his legs?" Pete asks him, voice rough. He barely glances over at Tyler, instead one more focusing his attention on Trent. He can all but feel Tyler stiffen, being so close to him as they were in the midst of locking up.

"Pete." He hisses, glancing over at Tyler-and his reddening face-before looking back at Pete, who looks none too impressed. "Now's not the time, alright? I've got this under control."

Pete grunts. "See that you do." And takes off the way he came.

He looks at his retreating back bemusedly for a moment before turning back to Tyler. He was still red in the face, and no longer looking Trent in the eyes.

"Don't worry about it." He reassures him.

"I have the money for it." Tyler finally says. "I just wasn't sure when to bring it up."

"Don't worry about it." He repeats, firmly. Tyler starts to speak but he interupts. "Really. Don't, okay? I'm not lying when I say how talented you are. Save your money for any expenses you might have or get."

When Tyler looks like he wants to interject again, he holds up a hand. "If you really want to contribute something, then you can help with the ring set up for the shows, at least for a bit. It'll help you learn more about the business, at any rate."

"Really?" Tyler asks. He nods. The smile Tyler affords him with takes his breath away. "I'd love to."

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Tyler's a bit clumsy at first but well meaning and he picks up the inner workings of building up and taking down the ring relatively quickly. It was very easy to forget his age and inexperience the more days that passed. From helping Tyler learn the ropes, to telling him some stories of his own experiences in wrestling ("To this day, Sheamus won't look me in the eye. Still owes me five quid too.") it quickly becomes some of the best days in Trent's life.

Tyler takes to learning with complete and utter passion and excitement. And soon they start to make a routine together. Trent picks up Tyler from his room for a quick breakfast before getting an early start on training (wasn't always in the ring, as there were other recruits and other wrestlers who also needed to train, though sometimes they trained with others, as it was good for Tyler's experience), then they'd have a bit of a rest so they wouldn't tire themselves out before the shows (Trent often spent that time talking to Tyler about various aspects of wrestling, so that he could still learn even when not physically learning.)

Sometimes, before or after dinner (there was a common area, small but it worked, where people could eat together if they wanted to) they'd do a bit more training. His head would hit his pillow, exhausted but happier than he could ever remember being.

Well, outside of the one glaring problem in this equation: Pete.

Pete had been distant the past few days before Trent had ever run into Tyler and if anything, it was much worse now. Tyler put on a good front and seemed generally happy, but he knew that he had to be feeling some pressure or unhappiness at Pete's constant attitude towards him. Or lackthereof.

Either Pete ignored him entirely (as was usually the case) or he'd look at him like he hated him. He wasn't sure which hurt him more; Pete's attitude towards Tyler or seeing Tyler's unhappiness. He had been loathe to bring it up to Pete, but knew he had to sooner rather than later. It was just that Pete's general attitude as of late made it hard to approach him.

It's those sorts of thoughts that have him pondering in the common area alone, well past the time everyone had already had dinner. He's so deep into his thoughts that he doesn't even sense Tyler walking in, until he taps him on the shoulder. He starts a bit, looking up from his position in his chair.

And stares.

With time having passed and with him having learned more about Tyler, it was often easy to forget his age. He both could forget it and see it very easily right now, as he notices the wisps of facial hair growing on his face.

"Everything alright?" Tyler asks mildly, smiling down at him.

Mostly, yes. I think I love you so much already that I feel a bit queasy. Though maybe that's the bangers and mash; the sausages looked a bit dodgy...

"Yes. It's all good." He's quick to reassure him. "And don't think I didn't notice something different. Or that I'd not mention it."

"Oh, well..." Tyler trails off. He looks all the more cute when a red suffuses his face, as he looks away bashfully.

"I like it."

Tyler glances his way, anxiousness in his eyes and voice that he can't quite hide. "You do?"

He smiles at Tyler, heart skipping a pleasant beat when Tyler smiles immediately back in return. He moves a daring hand up to Tyler's face, Tyler whom had bent down as if expecting Trent's move, touching the soft wisps of hair there, as golden as Tyler's own hair.

"I really do." He says softly.

A beat passes and he moves his hand, once he realizes it had been lingering there. The moment never becomes awkward though, to Trent's relief. Instead Tyler takes a seat across from him, idly eating a bit of leftover mash from Trent's plate.

"Did I miss Haskins?" He asks Trent, before taking another bite.

"Mmm. Yeah. You didn't miss much. Seemed a bit of a right prick."

"Well you did beat him in a match a couple of weeks ago." Tyler points out, fork pointed in Trent's direction.

Trent laughs. "I suppose that could have soured his outlook on life. Or at least towards me. But enough about me. What about you? Didn't see you all day."

Tyler looks a bit bashful, but Trent doesn't speak to him a harsh tone or anything; he was just genuinely curious to where he was. Tyler was of course free to go where he pleased, when and where, even. Just felt a bit more complicated to Trent given that Tyler was his (one of his) Soulmates...and he'd yet to tell him. Or talk to him about it at all.

"Not much." Tyler says. And for the first time in the time he has known him, Tyler doesn't or can't look him in the face. The red on his face becomes deeper. "Trent, can I ask you something?"

The fact that Tyler wasn't afraid to use his first name, using it with an ease and almost carelessness, despite their differences in age and positions in wrestling, made him happy.

"Anything." He meant that as sincerely as he possibly could.

"What do you do if you..." Tyler licks his lips. "If you like somebody?"

He freezes.

Time seems to stand still for a long time for him, for them both in general. Him with his mind whirling with so many thoughts. And Tyler, Tyler with the red face and trembling hands (so much so he has to drop the fork he had been clutching only moments before.)

"Ah..." He starts. Then stops. His heart was beating a mile a minute and he swallows hard. The longing in himself startles him with its intensity; he hadn't felt this longing feeling since his first time with Pete. "That..." He coughs a bit. "That depends. Does this person know you like them?" He's very careful not to say names or make any sort of assumptions on the person it could or could not be, or the gender or anything else of the sort.

Tyler shakes his head. "No...no I don't think so. But I..." Tyler shrugs helplessly. "What do you do if you can't do anything but think about them all day? If you wonder what they think of you, if they could ever come to like you in the same way?"

"I think..." Trent starts, thinking and speaking carefully. "I think that if you like them, then spend more time with them, if you can. If you're too shy to tell them at first how you truly feel about them, start out small. Maybe a nice gesture here and there."

Tyler smiles a bit, though he still doesn't look at Trent. "You think that'd work?"

I know that I'd love it. And see? Look at me, the big, strong, adult. The one that is certainly not boiling with complete and utter jealousy at the mere thought that you could like someone. Certainly not me. That wouldn't set a good example, so it's surely not true...

"Absolutely."

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Then something weird happens. Not weird bad, but weird anyhow: He starts to see more of Pete and less of Tyler. Tyler still managed to make lessons and the like, but outside of that, he was barely seeing him anywhere. They no longer shared any meals. Usually Tyler was off in a hurry, though he never told anyone where he was going.

Pete, on the other hand, had never been more attentive to Trent. He stopped his usual solitary training session in favor of working with Trent when he was teaching some of the recruits, or just in general when he wanted to get a good workout in. It reminded him so greatly of the beginning, when they had confessed to one another their feelings and when they learned the truth of their bonds with one another. That it wasn't so simple as a mere relationship and was, in fact, so much more. Back when Pete had much more easy smiles, at least to him. When he could touch his hand upon Pete's heated skin and kiss words of love there. Love that Pete would reciprocate to him as easy as breathing.

He also had started to join in with meals too, gradually, until it was a common sight once more to see Pete's face across from him or next to him as he ate, both of them chatting about their day or about some people they'd like to face in the ring sooner rather than later.

And even greater than that, was the fact that Pete was once more sharing his bed. It felt much more than the simple act of sex it felt like it had become, for whatever reason that Pete hadn't wanted to share. Now it felt like the two of them again and it made him feel like it always had; that he could take on the entire world easily, that he would do it ten times over if it made Pete smile.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" Pete asks, a bit sleepily, an arm moved carelessly over Trent's side.

He looks over at him, but Pete's eyes are closed.

"And how can you tell that when your eyes are closed?"

Pete snorts. "Like I can't tell when you're thinking too much. Idiot." The term is said with affection, so he merely rolls his eyes in amusement at the remark.

"Maybe I'm thinking about what to have for lunch tomorrow. Or maybe about what new bedspread to buy for the bed. Or-"

"For the love of Christ, can't we just fuckin' sleep already?" Pete groans.

"You knew full well coming in that-"

"Maybe I was thinking of a different kind'a comin' in?" Pete says, opening his eyes to leer at Trent, tongue out.

Now Trent is the one to groan. "Do you really think so much with just your little willy?"

"Wasn't so little when we-"

Trent shakes his head, so Pete seems to understand that there is something more on his mind. Pete props himself on an elbow, looking at Trent with a face more open than it had been in a very long time. For whatever reason, Pete had started to close himself off so it was so very good to see him opening back up now.

"What's the problem then?" Pete asks softly.

Trent shakes his head again. "Not so easy to...put into words." How could he explain to Pete, if Pete wasn't aware of it, that there was another part out there to complete them, truly? That meeting Tyler had been fate. It had. He refused to believe otherwise. Tyler was their Soulmate. Just...how to say it?

"I..." He stops, as his eyes happen to move past Pete and see the time on the clock. "Oh, is it already the eighteenth? Did you want to..." And he instantly knows he says the wrong thing, feels Pete stiffen next to him, before turning away from Trent. "Pete-"

"Get to sleep already then." Pete says roughly.

And not another word is spoken between them that night.

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He had realized instantly he had said the wrong thing. He knew very well just how touchy the subject was. It was just that it had been easy to forget in the late of night, in the arms of the one he loved. Even if said person didn't ever want to think about that day, because of what memories it might have brought to the surface. He knew he had put his foot (and probably a few other appendages) into his mouth as soon as Pete started to become distant again.

One day of distance turns into seven and on the eighth, well...

Felt like things were starting to get back to normal again. He supposed Pete had had plenty of time to cool off as he calls Trent and tells him to come meet him back in their room, after dinner. Well if he wanted something special then Trent could-

He stops absolutely still in the doorway he had just opened, his mind staring at the tableau in front of him. In the bed-in their bed-lay a naked Pete, propped up against the headboard, smoking, next to a sleeping, and very obviously also naked, Tyler. Pete looks straight into Trent's face.

"Now we're even." Pete says coldly.

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He barely sees the direction he's going in as he all but stumbles out of there, before finally finding a nearby wall to lean against, feeling the tell-tale sign of tears running down his face. This was not how this was supposed to be. Seeing the sight of the two people he loved most was supposed to make him happy, not...

He whips around at the sign of footsteps, knowing exactly who it is without even having to look, grabbing Pete and pushing him against the wall, his face a mask of anger to Pete's coldness, barely taking note Pete being barely dressed now, in a pair of jeans that weren't even properly opened.

"Why? Why did you..." His hands cling harder to Pete. "Why did you do this?"

"Why?" Pete sneers. "I wonder why. Bother you that badly, did it? That I got to stick it in him before you di-"

The sound echoes in the tiny hallway of his hand slapping Pete's face, making it turn with the force from it.

"Why did you do it?" He repeats, ignoring the tears on his face. "Pete, you are my-"

"Shut up."

"And not just that. Pete, he's our So-"

"He's our nothing." Pete hisses, eyes flashing as he turns to look back at Trent. He wipes at the small amount of blood that had formed at the corner of his mouth. "Nothing. Do you hear me? I'm tired of hearing those shite words from you. I come to you when I need a good lay, nothing more."

"You don't mean that!"

Pete sneers again. "You don't know a damn thing about what I mean, my love."

He reaches for Pete's arm, grabbing it and for the first time in a very, very, long time, he sees fear on Pete's face.

"Don't touch me!" Pete exclaims. He pushes at Trent, moving away from him, chest heaving.

"I won't hurt you, Pete! I'm not your bloody father!"

He's not sure which of the two of them is more shocked at that statement. Pete's face shutters for a moment before he glares bloody murder at him, stalking off, leaving Trent to stare helplessly in his direction for a long time. The last thing he had ever wanted to bring up to Pete, he had brought up twice in the span of days.

Pete's father had been...well, there wasn't word in the English language-or any other language-to describe just how much of a terrible person he had been. A quick easy death in his sleep from illness had been too good for him. Trent had never known the meaning-before or since-of the word hate, but he felt it all too keenly for a man who had now been dead for years. Even so, his influence of abuse and evil was still something Pete was feeling, even now.

Had this been why Pete was pulling away? It had been getting steadily closer to the anniversary of his father's death. Trent didn't look like Pete's father in look or bearing, nor was he anything like him in personality, but obviously something of his father seemed to be in Pete's mind when he looked at Trent and that absolutely killed him.

He finds he's made it back to his room before even really realizing he's been walking. Tyler's at the door now, opening it before he can. He's dressed now and seems startled to see Trent there. He looks at Trent helplessly for a moment before trying to hurry past him.

Not again.

He grabs at Tyler's arm, ignoring the feeling it invokes in him to be touching his skin, stopping him.

"Don't you run away from me too." He says roughly.

Tyler turns to him, his face wrenched in pain.

"I'm sorry," Tyler says. His eyes are as filled with tears as Trent's are. "I didn't-I didn't mean to-"

"What do you do if you..." Tyler licks his lips. "If you like somebody?"

He supposed this was his answer then. So all along it had been Pete only? Could Soulmates reject each other? He had never even thought it a possibility. But with Pete now having said and done what he did...

He abruptly lets go of Tyler's arm, unable to look at him now.

"You should have just told me that he was the one." Trent says. "The one that you...that you wanted to be with. You should have told me!"

"Trent, it's not-"

"You sleeping with him isn't what I thought?!" He shouts, too angry to think about the fact that he was raising his voice to Tyler, something he had never thought he'd ever do, had ever wanted to do. "'What do you do if you like somebody?' Why even bring that up to me? Don't you know how much that hurt me? I-"

"I lied to you." Tyler says.

He stops mid sentence, finally looking at him now. Tyler's face is a mess of tears and looking at it hurts.

"What?"

Tyler gestures with a helpless look in his eyes.

"I lied to you." Tyler repeats. He is the one to look away now, face and neck still red. There is the barest hint of love marks from around the collar of his shirt. "When I said somebody. I should have said: What do you do when you love two people very much?" His hands toy with the end of his shirt nervously, as if needing something to do with them.

"What?" He repeats, his voice soft.

Tyler glances back at him. "Do you remember what I told you when we first met? About my emancipation?"

"Yes. And?"

"They didn't want to support who I loved." Tyler says. "The fact that I was gay horrified them. So I left." He reaches with a shaking hand toward Trent, but seemingly can't touch him. "I've known about you my entire life. Both of you."

He captures Tyler's hand in his own, keeping it there. "You..." He can't get out the rest of the words, choked with emotion.

"I didn't know your names, but I've always known about you. When I saw you the first time, I knew right away just what you were to me. That may sound strange, but it's-"

"It's not." He says immediately. He strokes the back of Tyler's hand with a gentle thumb. "It is absolutely real. I knew as soon as I saw you that you were..." His mouth dries and he is afraid to say the words now, after Pete having rejected them only a short time ago.

"Yes?" Tyler whispers, his eyes looking into Trent's with pleading in them.

"That you were my, our, Soulmate. That you are apart of me and help complete me. That I love you."

He isn't sure who grabs who, but the next thing he recognizes is that they are wrapped up together, that Tyler in his arms. And that he feels a sense of peace and happiness that he cannot accurately describe, the feeling too great.

"I love you too." Tyler says, his arms tightening around Trent. "More than anything. I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear. It's just that I...that he-"

"I know." He murmurs, kissing the top of Tyler's head. "You love him."

Tyler lets out a long breath. "Yes. When he ignored me or scorned me, it killed me. So when he started paying attention to me, finally, I was happy. That was part of the reason I've been so scarce, in case you were wondering. At first it was because I wanted to work and get you both something to let you know just how much you meant to me. Took a job outside town, so you wouldn't hear about it from one of the locals if I took a job around here."

"At first?" He prompts.

Tyler sighs. "At first it was that. And then Pete found out. Thought he'd be angry, but he seemed almost...proud of my hard work," He says, a bit shyly. "It made me happy. But I couldn't tell you because I didn't want you to know I was working. We started to spend some more time together. So when he wanted to spend more time, I didn't even hesitate. Then we..."

"Yes." He says. Tyler stiffens in his arms.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be."

"But I am," Tyler insists. His arms tighten around him once more, as if reassuring himself that Trent was still there with him. "It was something that I wanted-that should have been--with all three of us, together."

"I don't blame you." Tyler starts to speak so he cuts him off. "I blame Pete. He should have known better. Not in being with you, but in going about it in that way. He did it to hurt me. And to hurt you. When he knows better!" He pulls back so he can look at Tyler's face, one so filled with hurt and anger and happiness and love all rolled into one. He understood those feelings all too well. "He knows as well as I the connection that he has with you as much as the one that I have with him. The connection we all share."

"I'm sorry." Tyler says again, running a hand through his hair. "I ran him off then, didn't I?"

"No. He ran himself off. He can't face up to me, to us. There's things that even I can only scarcely guess at that he's running away from. He's not had an easy life. I'm not saying it to make any excuses for him, but so you can understand him better. I know him. We just have to give him a little bit of time and he'll be back."

"You think so?" Tyler looks hopeful.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

They don't see Pete for another three years.

Well, other than a few odd moments here and there, in matches or the like. But it's like he's a complete stranger. His eyes look right through the both of them and every time it reopens the wound that has never healed, in Trent's chest.

If not for Tyler, he wasn't sure how he would have gotten through those times. Tyler whom in a mere couple of years had become such an absolutely amazing talent in the ring. Tyler whom shared his bed, but more importantly, shared his heart and passion and spirit, his soul. They had already started something important with their team, Moustache Mountain, garnering praise from critics and competitors alike. It was special.

But it wasn't complete.

They both knew that there was a missing piece of the puzzle, one they always waited for...even if he didn't want to be waited on.

Still, Trent feels something interesting was about to happen and he's rewarded with that thought by a phone call from one of the all time greats in William Regal. Regal cuts to the point immediately:

"We're looking for some of the absolute best in British professional wrestling."

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The excitement of being apart of something so absolutely amazing and huge is dampened slightly by the situation. To have Pete be so very close to him, standing almost next to him (if not for Triple-H being right there) but not be there with him, with him and Tyler...it was a bit disheartening. Still, he would not let this opportunity slip by him.

Maybe this was what he, they, had been waiting for. Maybe Pete was now ready and the time was right.

Maybe...

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He is seething when he is in the back and sees the attack that Pete lays upon Tyler. Regal barely gets there before he can and it takes seven of the people in the back to keep him from getting to Pete, who is getting quickly escorted away.

"You know better, Pete. You know better!" He shouts.

He's too angry to notice Pete's trembling body, the fear in his eyes, nor to hear him mouth the words I'm sorry.

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I'm so proud of you, Tyler."

He embraces Tyler carefully, mindful of his injured shoulder, ignoring the tears running down Tyler's face now, as he knows Tyler doesn't want them acknowledged. He knew why.

"I'm so very proud of you."

So even if it must always be this way, he knew he wasn't alone and would never be alone. That he loved Tyler and Tyler loved him. And they would make this work, even if Pete never...

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Bray pulls back from his Tale and Sami's left with a deep feeling of unsatisfaction.

"Wait." He says. "What about the rest? Surely you have more to tell. It can't end that way." Someone to push away and never let you love them? Or to be loved by them in return? He knew that feeling all too well.

"Not all stories have a happy ending." A voice says, a bit bitterly.

He turns and they're all started to see Trent Seven there in the flesh. He had no idea how long the man had been there; they had all been so engrossed in the Tale told by Bray that there was no way to tell how long he had been listening in.

"Or," Trent continues. "A completely happy one, I should say."

His expression shutters briefly and he turns and takes his leave. Sami's on his feet, following him out before he even really realizes just what he's doing.

"Wait!" He calls after him.

Trent stops and turns, brow raised.

"It can't end like that." Sami insists.

Trent sighs. "There's nothing more to be told. If you heard all of that, then you should know that nothing has changed. I cannot force someone to be with me, with us," referring to Tyler Bate. "if he doesn't want to be."

It sounded similar to Bray's situation with Dean Ambrose, except-

"But he does. Or at least he cares about you. I know someone who was rejected, wholly," It had obviously hurt Bray but he had been able to get through it after finding his other Soulmate in Roman Reigns. "The other person never even let them get close, in any respect. I may be overstepping my bounds, but-"

"He does that." A voice from behind him says.

He stiffens when he realizes it's Kevin speaking.

"But," Kevin continues conversationally, coming to stand next to him on his left, glancing at him. Sami looks at him in confusion, at the lack of malice on his face. "He also has an annoying tendency to be right."

"Kevin." Shinsuke says reproachingly, coming to stand on Sami's right.

"What? I said he was right!" Kevin looks perilously close to pouting and Sami had never been more confused.

"Trust me," Shinsuke says, addressing Trent now. "Take the chance. The only regret you'll have, more than any other, is if you don't try. Trust in the people you love."

Trent seems to take that to heart. He nods at them all in obvious thanks and walks off.

"What's going on? I..." Sami looks between the both of the them, feeling so very confused.

Shinsuke smiles at him, stroking his cheek. He glances at Kevin, they both do, but Kevin's face doesn't change to anger; perhaps one of bemusement, but not anger.

"We have a Tale we want to tell you." Shinsuke says gently. "One of Summer."

"And," Kevin hesitates. "One of Winter."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

He's nearly to his and Tyler's hotel room when he notices someone coming out of a room and is startled to realize it's Pete. He can feel his heart thudding in his throat when their eyes meet. Pete looks at him stoically as a moment, then two, then three passes by.

"Wait!" He says when Pete starts to turn back to go into his hotel room. Pete looks back at him. He swallows hard. "Let's talk. Please." He adds, as Pete doesn't answer him.

Pete snorts and shrugs, moving aside to let Trent in (Tyler was currently off with Xavier Woods and a few other people for one of Xavier's UpUpDownDown videos, which is why Trent had been at the arena to begin with. He hadn't planned to linger at all, but he had felt a subtle call wash over him and next thing he knows, he's hearing about himself, Tyler, and Pete.)

He closes the door firmly behind him, walking in further. Pete shrugs off his long coat, placing it over a chair and the silence is killing him!

"Ahh, can't you say something already?" He finally blurts out. "I can't deal with the silence. I'm used to cold shoulders and angry words, but no words at all is the worst."

"What do you want me to say?" Pete finally says.

You know what I want you to say.

"You keep asking for a lot," Pete continues. "What makes you think that I car-"

"I'm sorry." He tells Pete.

Pete stops, looking at him with confusion in his gaze. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He says again. "For whatever I did to hurt you."

"Me? You're apologizing to me for what you did?" Pete asks in disbelief. He laughs but it absolutely holds no humor in it.

"I never meant to bring up any past wounds. I certainly never meant to maliciously; it was only an accident. But even then, I still feel badly about it." Trent says, starting to reach for Pete. "Do you really see-"

He tries to grab at Pete's shoulder, but Pete bats him away.

"Don't touch me!" Once more Pete's face is filled with panic and Trent's heart drops when he backs away from him.

"I'm not going to...Christ, do I really remind you of him? Don't you know that I'd never-"

"You're a goddamn idiot," Pete seethes. "Of course you're not bloody like my father!"

"Then why would you..." He stops, looking at Pete with new eyes. "I was looking at this the entire wrong way the whole time, wasn't I? You were not worried because I was like your father; you were worried that you were like your father."

"Shut it."

"That's why you started pulling away, wasn't it? You were protecting me. Protecting us." He could see it so easily now and he couldn't stop now that he was figuring it all out. "That's why you pushed at us like you did; you tried to make a clean break for us. Make us hate you, because then we'd be safe from you, right?"

"Shut the hell up right now."

He could see the greater picture now and it broke his heart thinking about it. The thing that Pete had always rebelled again, had been even being remotely like his father. A man whom the Devil himself would have recoiled from. The abuse he had inflicted upon Pete had been horrific. Pete had been worried he'd hurt the person, the people, he loved and so he had done whatever he could to cut them off from him, to protect them. Not seeing that he was nothing like his father, that he was a good person, that he was kind and loving and nothing whatsoever like that.

"Oh, Pete. You're nothing like him."

"I said shut up!"

Pete grabs at the lapels of his coat, but he doesn't do anything else. The look on his face is heartbreaking. He takes a hand, smoothing back the hair of one of the men he loved.

"You're nothing like him." He repeats. "How did it feel when you beat up Tyler before your match against one another?"

"I felt sick." Pete whispers huntedly. "It made me feel like him and I hated it." He looks up at Trent now. "I didn't want to do it. But I had to, don't you see? I had to-"

He kisses him gently, hearing Pete make a small sound in his throat, kissing back. He can taste the salty tang of tears as he pulls back.

"You're the furthest thing from him, Pete. You will never be him. The moment you said to yourself "I will protect the people I love" you solidified that fact. Just let yourself be loved." He embraces him tightly. "Let me love you. Let Tyler love you. And trust in us."

"I don't want to hurt my Soulmates." Pete murmurs against him. "I love you, so I don't-"

"Trust in us." He nearly closes his eyes in pleasure and happiness at Pete's words. He had finally said it. Acknowledged it. Acknowledged them. "And I love you too. You big arse." He smiles at Pete to let him know he was joking at that end bit.

Pete rolls his eyes. "At least I'm not the one with the facial hair fetish, old man."

"Says the guy who sleeps with said 'old man', so what does that make you?"

Pete grabs his face, kissing him deeply.

"A lucky man." He breathes.

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A/N: This...let me tell you lol. This was some work. In the best way! But Pete (as to be expected?) was so stubborn! Took awhile for me to get underneath the layers of anger to see just why he was pushing away. It was such a fun challenge though!

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice