MONDAY NIGHT RAW (4/1/2019)

"Really, Seth?" Roman Reigns shook his head as Seth Rollins sauntered into their locker room. "You're full of yourself tonight. Two low blows on Lesnar?"

"Waving a red flag in front of the Beast. Get him all mad and off his game." Dean Ambrose shrugged from where he sat on a bench, slumped against the wall. "Could work."

Roman snorted. "I'm not sure the strategy of 'pissing Lesnar off' is a workable solution."

Seth's brown eyes twinkled. "Might as well have some fun along the way."

Roman sighed and got to his feet. "Got to do a promo with Charlie." He glanced at Dean who had also stood. "Where are you going?"

Dean shrugged. "Gonna take a walk."

"You're gonna stay right here," Roman ordered. "What does it say to McIntire if I need a bodyguard to cut a promo?"

Seth watched his two brothers glare at each other and inwardly sighed. Some things never changed. "Roman's right," he finally said in a quiet voice.

Dean rolled his shoulders, then shrugged. "Whatever."

Roman leaned forward and whispered, "Thanks, brother. But Seth needs the protection more." He grinned when Dean's lips twisted in a snarl as he sat back down.

"Shut up," Dean muttered.

Roman was aware of Seth's puzzled look as he left the room. If Dean honestly thought he wasn't going to rat him out at some point, he didn't know Roman Reigns.

Dean glowered at Seth. "You know what's going to happen," he snarled.

Seth sighed and slowly nodded. "His fight, Dean. We can't interfere."

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Dean shrugged at a smirking Kurt Angle when he walked back from the ring where he'd dropped Baron Corbin with a Dirty Deeds and taking a bow for the audience.

"McIntire skipped out. Corbin was there," he calmly explained.

"That he was," Kurt laughed.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

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One hour after TLC Takeover PPV (4/5/2019)

"It's bullshit, I tell you. It's bullshit." Seth grumbled as he and Roman entered the hotel. Roman carried two large pizza boxes while Seth carried two bags of chicken wings and French fries. "Dean should be on the Wrestlemania card."

"Preaching to the choir," Roman agreed. "But are you really surprised Triple H kept him off? Dean is leaving, after all."

"After all Dean's done for this company?" Seth angrily hissed. "He should have a last match at Wrestlemania."

"Again. Preaching to the choir," Roman repeated. He managed to push the elevator button without tipping any of the pizza boxes. "So why didn't Dean push for it?"

Seth shrugged as they entered the elevator. He jabbed at the button to take them to the floor where Dean's room was located. "He should have," he grunted.

"Maybe Dean had other business to take care of," Roman suggested, giving Seth a meaningful look.

Seth glanced at his older brother. "Like what? What's more important than a match at Wrestlemania?" he demanded.

"You."

"What?"

Roman slowly smiled. "Why did Dean keep challenging McIntire when he really had no business with him? Why did Dean keep jumping McIntire in the back?"

"He said he jumped him because McIntire wouldn't keep his big mouth shut," Seth recalled.

Roman snorted. "I'm sure that's part of it. But challenging McIntire kept that idiot's attention on him and not on trying to injure you before your match with Lesnar." He saw the exact moment, Seth realized what Dean had been doing. "He may or may not admit to it, but he was acting as your Shield, Seth. Your Shield."

The elevator door opened, and Seth slowly followed Roman into the hallway. "Wait a minute," he whispered as he leaned against the wall.

Roman patiently waited. He could almost see the wheels turning in his youngest brother's head.

"He did, didn't he?" Seth took a deep breath.

Roman nodded. "When McIntire went to Triple H to demand a match that would basically take you out of the match with Lesnar so he could fight the Beast for the title at Wrestlemania, I bet Triple H was going to give it to him. Dean saw the same thing and made sure McIntire would fight him instead. By bitch-slapping the shit out of McIntire and just walking away."

"Why didn't he say something?" Seth muttered.

"How could he, Seth?" Roman reasonably pointed out. "He'd turned on you and then came after you for months. Then, for whatever reason, he stopped and started acting like our brother again. And that explanation better be a good one, by the way." He saw Seth's grin and nodded in agreement. "Would you have believed him if he'd said he was going to protect you from McIntire?"

"Hell, no," Seth quickly admitted. "And wouldn't have let him."

Roman shrugged. "And that's how Dean thinks. That's his way of apologizing."

"Son of a…" Seth shook his head. "C'mon. I can't wait to hear this explanation."

Roman followed Seth as he stomped down the hallway. "You better calm down or we're not going to get anything," he warned.

"Yeah yeah yeah." Seth took several deep breaths as they reached Dean's room. "I'm calm." He knocked on the door, then looked at Roman. "But it's still bullshit that he's not on the card Sunday," he hissed.

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They didn't talk about the past or the future. As they ate, their conversation covered Seth's new coffee house and his wrestling school…or as Roman teasingly put it, Seth's burgeoning business empire. Their conversation covered Roman's concern that his daughter was growing up so quickly and how a certain little boy apparently had a crush on her. His concern wasn't mitigated by JoJo's assurance of "I don't like him, Daddy. He thinks Game of Thrones is silly." Dean pointed out that Seth also owned nine acres in Iowa so they could probably hide a body there if necessary. Roman snorted with laughter when Seth protested that there were plenty of swamps in Florida for that job.

But when Dean came back from the mini-fridge in the corner of his room with three bottles of water, Seth knew they were going to get down to business. He glanced at Roman and got a brief nod of agreement.

Dean sat down and rubbed his neck. "I don't know if it's better if I just start talking or if you guys start with the questions," he admitted.

"I've got a question," Roman immediately spoke. "Is Moxley an alter personality or are we talking about a dissociative personality disorder of some sort? I mean, technically they're the same. But there's some question about…" He saw the looks of surprise from both his brothers and shrugged. "I had time to read while I was away."

"Uh…yeah." Seth shook his head in surprise.

"To be honest, I don't know." Dean leaned back in his chair. "You know that Jon Moxley was the name I wrestled under in the Indies. And you know the type of matches I had in some of those promotions." When the other two men silently nodded, he continued. "When the matches started getting more and more hardcore, I'd tell myself 'showtime, Moxley' or talk to myself during the matches as Moxley. It got to where I'd go into the match as that personality." He shrugged. "I don't know how else to put it."

"No, I get it," Seth nodded. "We're all different in the ring than we are out of it. 'Moxley' was just amping up your personality and revving you up for what you needed to do."

'And what was going to be done to you,' Roman silently added to himself.

Dean nodded, a bit in surprise. "When I got to FCW, Jon Moxley wasn't needed. Until I had surgery." He glanced down at the bottle of water in his hands. "I know you guys were there…when it got bad. The few times that I knew what was going on, I'd see one or both of you or hear your voices. I knew I wasn't hallucinating…you guys were actually there. You told me that, Seth, but I already knew it. And, bastard that I am, I never thanked either of you for that." He looked up. "So, I'm doing it now. Thank you, Roman. Thank you, Seth. I'll always be grateful for what the two of you did for Renee."

"You're welcome," Roman softly replied.

"Dean…" Seth suddenly leaned forward and tightly hugged Dean who grunted in surprise. "You're okay, aren't you? You're not…sick again or…anything?"

Dean looked at Roman who looked like he wanted to burst out laughing. "What? No, I'm not…Jesus, Rollins, can't a man say thank you without you thinking the worst?"

"Well…" Seth sat back and brushed his eyes. He saw Roman's face and scowled. "It's not funny, Roman."

"Actually, it is," Roman snickered.

"I'm not sick. I'm not dying. I'm just saying thank you. Okay?" Dean growled.

Seth relaxed. "Okay. You're welcome."

Roman sipped his water as Dean grumbled under his breath.

"Anyway…" Dean shot Seth an irritated look. "During one of my bouts with delirium, I remember hearing a voice telling me that I was dying." He glared at Seth. "Then, not now."

Seth held up both hands in surrender.

"I thought maybe it was one of the doctors talking. To Renee or you guys. But nobody else was talking or I didn't hear anyone else," Dean carefully explained. "The voice said he was Moxley, and the two of us could kick this fever's ass. Together." He shrugged. "I said sure. Or thought I said it."

"Your fever started coming down suddenly," Roman recalled. "Everybody put it down to your body finally getting enough of the antibiotics."

"I kept thinking it was like a hardcore match, ya know?" Dean admitted. "I was just fighting."

"And you did," Seth grinned. "There were a few times me and Roman had to hold you down while Renee talked to you."

"The doctors wanted to put you in restraints, but Renee told them what they could do with that idea," Roman chuckled. "Sounded like she was channeling you."

Dean smiled. "Then it was over. The fever was gone. I started getting better and then rehabbing."

"When did Moxley come back?" Roman asked.

"During rehab. I'd exhaust myself, but this voice kept telling me to push it. I'd feel this…anger building, and I'd hit the gym again." He drank some water then recapped the bottle. "When we had that campout in the Nevada desert, I mentioned Moxley. Called him 'the fourth member of the Shield'."

"Yeah, we figured you meant you'd go hardcore on somebody." Seth exchanged a glance with Roman. "Kinda confuse the hell out of 'em."

"That was the plan," Dean nodded, then took a deep breath. "I honestly don't know what Moxley is, but…" He restlessly got to his feet and began pacing. "When I said it didn't matter what anybody said…Ziggler or McIntire or Strowman or Corbin…any of 'em…that it didn't mean anything, I meant it! But every time one of them said I wasn't as good as you guys or you were taking advantage of me, this voice in my head agreed and just wouldn't let it go." He spun around to look at the other two men. "I will swear on whatever you want me to swear on that I didn't think that. Me! Dean Ambrose!"

Seth slowly stood up and walked to stand in front of Dean.

"Tell me, Seth…what do I swear on?" Dean demanded.

"Nothing," Seth quietly spoke. "You believed me when I told you back in 2017 that I wasn't the same man as I was when I put a chair in your back. I believe you now." He opened his arms and waited.

Slowly, Dean leaned into Seth's embrace and buried his face in Seth's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he mumbled.

"It's okay," Seth whispered.

He'd said those words when Dean had attacked him the night Roman left them. Maybe he'd subconsciously known it really wasn't his brother who attacked him. Or maybe he'd just wanted to believe it.

Roman silently studied the bottle of water in his hands, waiting for his brothers to calm down. When the two men separated, he waited for a few moments, then quietly spoke. "Convince me, Dean. Convince me that Moxley's under control or gone or whatever." He heard Seth's quiet grunt of disapproval but saw Dean silently nod in understanding as he sat back down.

Moxley had taken the opportunity provided by Roman's illness to attack Seth. He'd double-crossed Roman as well that night.

"When Moxley went after Seth that night…"

"No." Roman held up his hand. "It was also you, Dean."

"I tried to fight him!" Dean snapped.

"I know you did. I saw it. That's not the point right now."

Seth's dark eyes moved from one of his brothers to the other. "I talked to Kane about it," he finally spoke. "Kane said he didn't think Dean got to the arena planning on the double-cross. He just took advantage of…what happened."

Dean nodded. "Yeah. We won the tag belts. We hugged. You said 'We did it'. Held up the tag title and the IC title to the crowd. Came back and said 'Roman would be so proud'. Then I heard the voice say 'Now', and I kicked you in the gut. Dirty Deeds."

Seth frowned at the far-away look in Dean's blue eyes.

"It hurt…like something was tearing me apart. I'd just done what I'd sworn I'd never do. Turn on one of my brothers…turned on both of them. It felt like I was falling down this black hole or something. Then I was screaming at you. You deserved it. You knew why. Shut up. Just shut up. You kept asking 'why' and I'd scream 'shut up'. And I'd hit you and hurt you more."

Dean closed his eyes and lowered his head. He remembered with shame the exhilaration and sheer joy Moxley felt when Seth was hit with Dirty Deeds on the bare concrete floor…and the horror Dean had felt that had sent him falling deeper into that black hole. "Every so often I'd claw back up and do something or say something that was me. But I couldn't…stay there."

Roman nodded. "I wondered about that. Some of your promos seemed like there were two people talking."

"I tried. So help me God, I tried."

"And the part about how the Shield make you weak? Burning your vest?" Roman demanded.

"Making sure there was no way back to you guys. You wouldn't want me back. That this wouldn't happen." Dean rubbed his face. "I figured that final line had been crossed and didn't deserve to come back," he mumbled. "Made the decision to leave a lot easier."

"Is that why you didn't hang around with us when I paid that little visit in Grand Rapids?" Roman asked. "You were there watching when Seth found me down in the storage area."

Seth looked at Dean in surprise.

"I could still run some interference but…"

"But nothing!" Seth snapped. "If you guys could forgive me for what I did in 2014, why did you think we couldn't forgive you for this?"

"I didn't feel I'd earned that forgiveness."

Seth reached out to touch Dean, but Roman stopped him. "What changed to give you back some control?"

Dean took a deep breath and sat up in his chair. "Christmas." He opened his eyes. "I had a…nightmare."

"Must have been a doozy," Seth weakly joked.

Dean's eyes opened and fixed on Seth. "You died. In my arms."

"WHAT? You dreamed about Seth dying?"

Dean barely flinched at Roman's accusing voice. "It was after the show in Sacramento. I was actually at home in Vegas, but I dreamed I'd picked Renee up in Sacramento after the show. We saw an SUV ahead of us get t-boned by a semi. I knew it was one of the ones the company uses." He took a deep breath and blinked. "I told Renee to call 911 and broke into the car. Seth was the driver."

Dean saw Seth's eyes begin to lose their focus and patted his cheek. "No! Look at me! Stay with me!" He saw Seth struggle to look at him. "You gotta stay with me, Seth. You can't go. You gotta stay for Roman…and Kevin. You can't leave Kevin, man. You can't leave…us."

Seth coughed again, blood running from the corner of his mouth.

"I'll tell you why, Seth, if you stay with me." Dean began babbling. "Swear to God, I'll tell you…straight up truth…no tricks this time…I'll tell you why…all of it…but you gotta stay." He heard the whine of the ambulance's siren and patted Seth's cheek a little harder. "Ambulance is almost here…please, Seth…God's honest truth, I'll tell you why if you'll just stay with me."

"Brother," Seth breathed then closed his eyes as a torrent of blood gushed from his mouth.

"I told you to hold on…promised to tell you everything…the truth…just don't go…don't leave…you called me 'brother' and…di…"

Dean jumped to his feet and ran into the bathroom. Seth glared at Roman and quickly followed.

"Damnit." Roman threw the bottle of water to the floor and covered his face. He heard sounds of retching from the bathroom and Seth's soft murmurs.

"I'd said you'd…get what you deserved," Dean was gasping. "And…dreamed…"

"Hush," Seth crooned. "I'm right here. It never happened."

"Went onto Twitter…found your post of Kevin…under the Christmas tree…but I'd dreamed it."

"Shhh…calm down…calm down." Seth raised his voice. "Roman, get Dean another t-shirt. This one's really sweaty."

As Roman turned towards Dean's suitcase, he heard Seth gently urging Dean to take off his t-shirt. By the time he'd found a replacement t-shirt, Seth was sitting Dean on the bed and handing him a bottle of water. Dean drained half the bottle before taking the t-shirt from Roman and putting it on.

"Not the way I thought this would go down," he grumbled.

"No shit, Ambrose," Seth grinned. He flipped the bedspread around Dean's shoulders. "This'll keep you warm."

"I'm fine."

"You're shivering."

"Damn mother hen."

Roman snickered, then held up his hands in defense when Seth glared at him. He slowly sat on the bed next to Dean. "I'm sorry about that. But…"

Dean shrugged. "It's fine, Roman. All this needed to come out."

"I just need to know Moxley's not gonna show up again," Roman explained.

"Won't be around to threaten either of you again," Dean mumbled.

"It's not just us that I'm concerned about," Roman pointed out.

Seth suddenly stood up. "Is that the real reason you're leaving?" he demanded. "You think Moxley could come back? Because if that's the reason, I'll fucking kick Moxley's ass!"

"Only if I don't spear his ass first," Roman grunted.

"No, that's not the reason." Dean stared at both of them. "I told you why, Seth. All that bullshit from Creative. I'm just…done with it."

"Okay," Roman nodded. "You said it started to change after your…nightmare."

Dean nodded. "I think the…shock of it gave me back some control. I realized I couldn't fight Moxley so I started…working with him." He gave Seth a crooked grin. "You pegged Moxley right when you confronted him in Memphis. He wanted a title all his own, and you made sure he realized you were part of the reason he lost the IC title. He was angry and started to lose focus. Gave me a wedge to start getting back in."

"Yes!" Seth pumped a fist into the air and jumped off the bed. "That's what I was trying to do!"

Roman exchanged a grin with Dean. "Part of the plan, Architect?" he teased.

Seth grinned but shrugged. "Hey, I was trying anything that I could think of," he admitted.

"And attacking McIntire?" Roman innocently asked Dean.

"He's got a big mouth. Moxley didn't like him either." Dean glared at his older brother.

Roman leaned closer to Dean and mock whispered. "Too late. I already threw you under the bus on this one."

Dean's blue eyes widened slightly then closed. He felt Seth sitting on the bed next to him.

"Thanks for running interference," Seth quietly spoke.

"Yeah, well…" Dean shrugged, opening his eyes. "Anyway, by the time we spoke in Phoenix, I had more control at times but not enough to…take over. I guess I had Moxley thinking we were working together and that's how things were going to go. But I knew Renee was worried. Sooner or later she was going to force the issue. When Seth got sent home after Lesnar F5'd the shit outta him in Phoenix…"

"Hey!" Seth protested.

"I took the opportunity of asking Renee to stop by with a couple of care packages. It gave us more time apart so I could figure something out," Dean admitted. "It seemed like Moxley went quiet at times. I figured maybe he was…I dunno…sleeping. Was never for very long, but it gave me time to think. Then McIntire opened his stupid mouth again in Lafayette, and I realized I could take my shot."

Roman snickered. "Gotta admit, I loved that bitch-slap you gave him."

Dean grinned in remembrance. "Got him real riled up. Which is what I figured I needed."

Roman studied Dean for a few seconds. "I was watching that match. You came out more like…you than I'd seen in months."

Dean nodded. "I was in…control, I guess you'd say. Moxley was yelling in my head how stupid this was and that it wasn't 'our' fight."

"It wasn't," Seth quietly pointed out.

"Yes, it was," Dean firmly argued. "McIntire was going to take you out permanently, Seth. Remove you from the match against Lesnar so he could take your place. One way or the other. That made it my fight."

Roman triumphantly looked at Seth as if to say 'I told you so'.

"Jeez, Dean." Seth rested his forehead against Dean's shoulder. "You coulda really gotten hurt."

"Kinda the idea," Dean admitted with a crooked grin.

"What!"

Dean snickered as both brothers yelled the same word at the same time.

"Explain that one," Roman demanded.

"I couldn't break Moxley's control on my own," Dean explained. "I figured if I got McIntire mad enough, a couple of Claymore kicks would shake Moxley enough to give me the edge I needed. I went into the fight and fought him enough to keep him mad. Then I deliberately released control to Moxley just before that first Claymore kick. Because Moxley hadn't been fighting, McIntire needed the second Claymore kick to pin him. And, trust me, he didn't hold back on that second one." Dean took a deep breath. "When we got to the back, Moxley was reading me the riot act about how that wasn't going to ever happen again. No more weakness. No more protecting you guys. Blah. Blah. Blah."

Roman glanced at Seth who shrugged at Dean's sudden silence. "What happened then?"

"I put him down," Dean calmly answered. "In his head, I slapped a sleeper hold on him and didn't let go. I put him to sleep. Just like he slept from the Indie days until I was close to dying." He looked at Roman. "You asked me to convince you that Moxley's gone. Later that night, Seth was doing a promo; and I walked up to him. He asked me if I'd finally lost my mind. In other words, was I a lunatic? Moxley hated being called that. Drove him absolutely batshit crazy. You saw how he was with Charlie when she mentioned it. Took all I had to keep him from going after her. But with Seth? All I heard was silence. No anger. No rage. No desire to rip off his head and shove it down a garbage disposal."

"Wait…that was…I was an experiment?"

Dean slowly looked at Seth from the corner of his eyes. "Maybe?"

"Fuck you, Ambrose!" Seth smacked Dean's shoulder.

"What if he does come back?" Roman quietly asked.

"After RAW next Monday, I'm taking Renee home. I'm gonna sit her down and tell her everything I've told you guys. I made sure Moxley never touched her. I think he knew that was the one thing that would set me off so badly that I'd wind up killing both of us." He took a deep breath. "But she knew something was wrong. And she wasn't going to buy much more of the excuses I was giving her. She deserves to know the truth and decide what she wants to do."

"Aw, man, she's gonna stay right with you," Seth protested. "Get any other thought outta your head."

"Seth's right," Roman agreed. "Don't be thinking otherwise. Renee's totally in love with you."

"If Moxley comes back, I'll get word to you. But if I can't, Renee will if…I'll tell her what to watch for. She'll let you know if I can't…don't. And you guys have permission to do whatever's necessary to stop him. And I mean anything necessary. Doctors. Meds. Straight Jacket. Anything necessary." He looked at both his brothers. "I mean it."

The three sat in silence for several moments, then Roman nodded and held out his fist. "Promise."

Seth added his fist to Roman's. "Promise."

Dean joined his fist to theirs. "Promise." He felt Roman's other arm slide around his shoulder and was pulled in for a hug. After a few second, he took a deep breath and pulled away. "That's it. All of it. Except…" He turned to look at his older brother. "I took cheap shots at you, Roman. And you weren't there to answer them or beat me down for it. I'm sorry, Roman. Sorry for every word."

Roman slowly smiled. "I forgave you for that the moment you touched fists with us in the ring and agreed to that one final match at FastLane. That meant so much to me." He took mercy on Dean and turned his attention to Seth.

"As for you, little brother, no pressure, but it's all on you now," Roman spoke. "I had my shots at Lesnar. I took the title. But he got it back." He raised a hand when Seth started to speak. "Doesn't matter how he got it. He got it back. And it's been cheapened and turned into little more than a joke. That title deserves better. The fans deserve better. Take that title and defend it like it should be defended. Be the champion Lesnar never could be."

"Everything, Seth. Everything you've done or said. All the sacrifices and choices and decisions…both good and bad. All that's led up to this one match." Dean stared into Seth's dark eyes. "Slay. The. Beast."

Seth looked down to where their fists still touched then into the eyes of his brothers. He saw trust and belief in him in their eyes. And he trusted and believed in them.

"I will."

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Dean glanced at his watch as he put the leftover wings and pizza into the mini-fridge. It would probably be a couple of hours before Renee returned from the NXT after-party. He wearily walked towards the bed, exhausted from his conversation with his brothers. He could only hope and pray that his conversation in a few days with Renee would turn out as well.

Before he could throw himself onto the bed, he heard knocking on the hotel room door.

"I don't know which of you it is, but you're only getting the leftover wings. I'm keeping the pizza for breakfast tomorrow," Dean grumbled under his breath. Fully expecting the person at the door to be either Roman or Seth, he didn't look through the peephole but opened the door. He stood there in surprised silence for a few seconds, then spoke. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I thought this would be a good time to have a conversation about the future…your future."

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WRESTLEMANIA (4/7/2019)

Seth stepped off the stage and into the back and accepted the applause from his co-workers. Vince McMahon stood and shook his hand.

"Congratulations. Now have someone look at your back."

"Yes, sir." Seth nodded and walked through the crowd, accepting the congratulations with a smile. The smile grew into a smirk as he saw Roman at the edge of the crowd. He fell into his brother's arms and whispered, "I did it. I slayed the Beast."

"Never doubted it," Roman whispered back. "C'mon. Let's get you to medical."

"Dean should be here," Seth grumbled.

"Shhh…c'mon, champ." Roman led him through the hallways towards medical.

Once there and sitting on a table, Seth felt Roman pat his shoulder. "Gonna get ready for my match."

"Give McIntire a spear for me, will ya?" Seth smirked.

Roman gave him a mock salute. Then reached into his pocket and handed him a cell phone. "Thought you might want your phone. You got a message."

Seth blinked as Roman walked out of the room then looked at his phone. Two messages. From Dean Ambrose.

'Win or lose, you're a champion. Don't forget it.'

'Congratulations, BeastSlayer.'

As the doctor began examining his back, Seth held both his phone and the title in his arms.

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RAW (4/8/2019)

Triple H stood in the ring enjoying both the cheers and boos from the crowd. His match against Batista had been a brutal one, but he'd known that going into it. But that was at Wrestlemania. Tonight was RAW…and he had plans for a certain Architect.

"Last night was epic! The greatest Wrestlemania in history…maybe of all time!" Triple H announced. "But that was last night. And this is Monday Night RAW!" He let the crowd cheer for nearly a half minute before against speaking. "Ladies and Gentlemen…the new Universal Champion. Seth Freakin' Rollins!"

Seth's music started as the crowd roared in approval. The new Universal Champion walked out, the championship belt over his left shoulder, his right arm curled around his ribs. With a slight grimace, he held the Universal title belt over his head in triumph. Then he limped towards the ring.

"Thank you, Seth! Thank you, Seth! Thank you, Seth!"

Seth grinned at the audience as he got to the steps leading up to the ring. He slowly mounted the stairs and stepped through the ropes.

"Yeah!" Triple H shouted. "Thank you, Seth. You slayed the Beast."

The crowd roared with appreciation.

"You're the BeastSlayer now, huh?" Triple H's face hardened as he stepped closer to Seth. "Just like you're the KingSlayer. Right?"

The crowd immediately grew quiet.

Seth gripped the title belt a little harder and tried to stand upright. But he flinched and curled his right arm closer around his ribs.

"Thought I'd forgotten, Rollins? You think I forgot what you did at Wrestlemania 33?" Triple H angrily demanded. "I don't forget anything. And I always win!" He ignored the boos from the crowd as he stepped back a few paces. "I tried running you ragged leading up to Wrestlemania. McIntire, Lashley, and Corbin were going to make it easy for Lesnar to rip you to shreds assuming you made it to Wrestlemania. But Roman comes back. And Ambrose, in whatever passes for that lunatic's brain, decides to step in against McIntire. And we have a little Shield reunion."

The crowd cheered with some calling for The Shield.

"No, no, no, there isn't going to be any more Shield reunions because Dean Ambrose is gone, ladies and gentlemen!" Triple H grinned. "He's gone to do whatever it is that lunatics like him do. And you, Seth Rollins, you're a fighting champion, right? Well, you're sure going to fight to keep that title. The list of people coming for that title includes Drew McIntire, Bobby Lashley, Baron Corbin, and Elias. If you make it through them, maybe Roman and Finn Balor will get a shot." He shrugged. "Or maybe someone else will convince me they deserve a shot at you and your title."

Seth's eyes flickered from Triple H to the crowd then back again as the realization hit him of what Triple H planned.

"If anyone interferes in one of your matches, they'll be fired!" Triple H thundered. "On the spot! So no help from Balor. Or Reigns. And Ambrose? Well, he was never that reliable anyway."

"Shut up!" Seth screamed.

"Don't get so worked up. I'm just telling the truth," Triple H laughed. "But let's not delay this, shall we? Who do you defend that title against first? You're standing here in the ring…all alone… so let's bring out the contenders. Drew McIntire! Bobby Lashley! Baron Corbin! Elias!"

Seth took a step to the side and turned his head towards the stage, then quickly looked back at Triple H who stood there laughing.

The huge screen flickered to life, and everyone saw people running in the back. More than one person was yelling for help. Whoever was holding the camera moved through the crowd so everyone could see…

Lio Rush curled in a tight ball, moaning in agony.

Bobby Lashley sprawled unconscious at his side, the InterContinental Title flung over one of his legs.

Baron Corbin lay several feet to one side, his left arm twisted at an unnatural angle.

Elias had either fallen or been flung half on top of Corbin, bruises already forming on his face from someone's boot.

Drew McIntire slumped against a packing crate, unconscious with blood streaming from his forehead and nose.

The crowd first gasped, then cheered as the screen went dark.

Triple H's eyes never left the screen until Seth stepped back in front of him.

Seth slowly dropped the Universal title belt to the mat. He stood taller and raised the microphone. "My brother had a visitor after NXT. That visitor wasn't very happy about how you were negotiating with talent. They came to an agreement that satisfied everyone. You might say that agreement was a game changer." Seth dropped the microphone and pulled something from under his t-shirt where it had been held in place by a right arm supposedly protecting his ribs.

SIERRA. HOTEL. INDIA. ECHO. LIMA. DELTA. SHIELD!

The crowd blew the roof off the Barclay Center as Roman and Dean marched onto the stage in full Shield tactical gear and wearing their jet black Hound masks. As they approached the ring and split to go to opposite sides of the ring, Triple H realized that Seth had put the same jet black Hound mask on the top of his head.

Seth smirked. "You should have remembered. The Shield always ride into battle together." He lowered the jet black Hound mask over his face.

Now it was Triple H who stood alone.