Hysteria

By: PhoenixJustice

Disclaimer: WWE is property of a zillion people that aren't me. I do not own the characters, storylines, people portraying them, etc. I only own this story and I make no profit from this.

Warning: Rated M for language, violence, sexual situations, slash, etc.

Pairing: eventual Dean Ambrose/Seth Rollins, etc.

Setting: Post-Hell in a Cell 2014 and the Raw the night after.

Summary: "You stabbed me in the back, you son of a bitch." "You are my Brother. I trusted you. I trusted you, Seth. After everything..." "Wyatt is just a tiny, annoying, blip on my radar; don't ever think that my eyes aren't watching you, Seth."

A/N: Also known as: in which I had too many feels to count thanks to this PPV so I must write fic to feel better.

A/N 2: Also, ALSO known as: in which Seth fucked up and now has to find a way to fix it.

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Chapter Two -

Unexpected planning

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"What the hell are you doing here?" he demands.

"Eating." comes the easy reply. "This is a restaurant, after all."

That dry, sarcastic humor. Yep, it was him alright.

CM Punk.

He hadn't been seen in WWE since January; Seth didn't know all the details, no one did save Punk, Hunter, and Vince (possibly Stephanie), but he knew that things had fallen out. Honestly he didn't expect to see Punk for a long time. Others would have said never, but Seth could tell the kind of person Punk was; he himself was like it in many respects. And once the man rested up a bit, mentally and physically, from the burn out, he'd be back. He'd be unable to help himself. With professional wrestlers, wrestling was art, and it was everything. To prove yourself, to be the best. You constantly pushed yourself to be the best. And if you didn't push yourself? If you didn't try? Then that just proved you were in the wrong business and good riddance.

He raises a brow. Punk gives a half smile. He looked more at ease and happy than he'd seen in awhile; he wondered when the last time was that he looked that content. Probably the day before he turned on Dean and Roman. Then it had been easy; easy talking, laughing.

"I was eating with my wife," Punk continues. His wife being AJ Lee. "But figured it'd be better for her to leave first so we didn't get seen together. The press would be having a field day if they caught us together; they've done it enough as of late. Fucking annoying."

"I'm sure." Seth says carefully. "Well, despite circumstances and all that shit, nice seeing y-"

"And," Punk continues, as if Seth hadn't spoken. "figured I'd get some dessert before I leave."

There was something there, something that Punk wasn't actually saying but was trying to convey in his eyes, actions, and words. Seth found himself intrigued, despite himself. He waves a hand at his table.

"Well, I'm getting ready to eat myself; could use the company."

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It was quiet for a few minutes, as Seth starts digging into his meal and Punk waits on his brownie ice cream thing. He wasn't sure just Punk wanted exactly, but whatever it was, he wasn't too worried about it. He knew it'd be safe from the Authority at least, whatever was said; Punk hated the Authority as much as Seth did. Maybe he wanted a way to get a hold of his wife better when she was wrestling or something? Who the hell knew. Until Punk spoke up, he wouldn't know. So he waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Punk seemed perfectly content to just sit there and eat his dessert.

He doubted very much that the dessert was so good that the man couldn't talk. So there was something he was missing. But what? He looks at Punk closer and thinks about when he first saw him in the restaurant and the things that were said.

Wait.

He had thought that Punk would be fine to talk to as he also hated the Authority but didn't look at it the way he should have to begin with.

"I'm an idiot." Seth mutters, highly tempted to hit himself for thinking so stupidly.

He knew Punk hated the Authority but Punk didn't know that he did.

"Triple-H was so happy with me earlier. He complimented me and I kept thinking: man, I'd really like to punch your fucking face in."

Punk stops eating and looks up from his dessert, a gleam in his eye. He grins.

"Oh? Do tell."

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"So that's about it."

"You're an idiot."

He gapes at Punk, taken aback. Punk always spoke his mind, he knew that, but it still threw him off to hear him speak so baldly.

"Excuse me?"

"They're supposed to be your "Brothers" right? So why not talk to them about it?"

"Because. Roman has the biggest heart in the world and would do anything for the people he cares about, but that is also a weakness; people would never believe he could turn. And Dean? He'd go straight for Triple-H's throat without thinking about the consequences. That's exactly why I did this; so that wouldn't happen."

"Well, you're an idiot, but an honest one at least."

"That why you didn't say anything at first?"

"Yeah. Had to be sure what I thought was true, not what was being shown on tv and PPV's were true. Had to see if you had honestly turned on them or-"

"If I was playing double agent, so to speak."

"Exactly. You fooled everyone really well; hell even your other team members wholeheartedly believe it. But I never believed it."

"You didn't? I mean, not to toot my own horn that much, but I've done a damn good job. So much so I sometimes even forget myself what my true purpose is."

"Yeah. And not to toot my own horn, but I could see through it. I've seen betrayal on both sides. I've seen a person you trust more than almost anyone and see how they crush you with that knowledge when they betray you. I've seen the real deal and there were just things, little things, that showed me that you didn't really mean what you were doing, not to Ambrose. Look at Hell in a Cell for instance-"

"You watched the PPV?" Seth asked, a bit amused, despite the situation.

"Just because I'm not there right now doesn't mean I haven't kept up with what's going on, despite what the dirtsheets say. And seeing you two fight got me more interested to watch, I'll admit. Back to the Cell, I have to admit feeling sorry for Ambrose. You really hurt him."

Seth does his best not to grimace but knows he didn't hold it all back. It felt like an open wound that wasn't given the time to heal, and with each strike, each word, the wound opened up even more. He knew what he had done to Dean, would never forget it even if he managed to somehow, someway, be forgiven (which he doubted) and knew that the pain was something he was willing to take, to protect him.

"No one knows that more than I do." he says bitterly. "But I did it, ironically enough, to protect him. Physical wounds heal; the rest..." He shakes his head.

He sighs, rubbing at his eyes. He felt weary in more ways than one. "I hate it. I'm stuck in a place I never wanted to be and to find a way out without getting him hurt feels almost impossible now."

"About that." Punk says. "Who says it's impossible? Don't let the Authority and their shit keep you from forgetting your goals. You want to save Ambrose, right?"

"Yeah. I do." More than anything.

"Then I'll help you."

Seth raises a brow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Rollins. I hate the Authority as much as the next person-probably more so, considering the shit hand they tried to deal me again and again-so I'll help you. Think about it."

He did. And it was an angle he never would have been able to pursue before. Punk was on the outside right now; no one expected him to come back, and even the ones who did think he would come back assumed it would be a very long time before he decided to return.

"I appreciate the offer, I do. But-"

"You wanna know what I can offer."

Seth had to hand it to Punk; the man was sharp.

"Well, I have a ace in the hole I've been using. Pretty effective so far too, if I do say so myself." He nods at something behind Seth.

He turns and stiffens at who he sees.

Joey Mercury.

"Isn't that right, Joey?"

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"What the hell is this?" Seth hisses. Had Punk sold him out? Was he working for the Authority? But, the man had looked so disgusted at mention of the Authority. He didn't seem like the kind of guy to do anything for the Authority; not like the man needed any money and if he wanted back in the company, he'd come back on his own.

"Not what you're thinking, obviously." Punk says, drily. "You wanted to know how I could help right? I did say I had an ace in the hole." Punk gestures for Joey to take a seat. He does, eyeing Seth as he does so. Seth himself was very on-edge. Although he felt like he could trust Punk, he was still wary.

"And he's your ace in the hole."

"Yeah. Think about it. They just see him as a lackey. Can you think of a time they pulled him aside and treated him like anything close to an equal or didn't ask for him if it wasn't to get something from him?" Seth shakes his head and Punk continues, leaning forward slightly as he talks, dessert forgotten. "Even you didn't take note of him. No one has and that's what I've been banking on. Tell him what you've been doing, Joey."

"Gathering information." starts Joey, quietly. He spoke quiet, but not in the same kind of referencial tone he had to the Authority. No, this was just speaking softly, as if making sure to not be heard. He didn't seem anything like the "Yes, sir. Yes, ma'am" lackey Seth had seen previously. He seemed more sure of himself. "No one really notices me unless they need something from me so I can get around a lot without being noticed."

"Information. Something to use against them." Seth says. The elephant in the room word here was blackmail.

"They deserve it, for the way they've done people."

"Oh, I'm not disagreeing. I've seen how they treat people they think aren't 'worthy', not 'deserving', " Seth continues. "I'm just surprised you've managed to find anything on them; they're pretty good at covering their tracks when it comes to things they don't want people to try. Believe me, I tried." In the beginning, back when he thought he might be able to take care of it quickly, back when he still thought he could be forgiven, that he might even deserve to be forgiven.

"They're good. But I'm better," Joey says. He didn't speak with the egotism that Seth had come to expect from many people around him (Triple-H and company were good at the egotism, after all) but with a quiet certainty that spoke of a man who knew who he was, who knew what he could do and what he was capable of. It rather stunned him, as he didn't expect something like that from him. Then again, the man had been hiding what he was truly capable of all this time. "But the one thing I can't do, is to protect myself. Not from all of them."

"Which is where I would come in." Seth remarks.

"Exactly," Punk says, nodding. "He gets us the information we need, but he can't protect himself from all of them. He needs someone to keep watch, so to speak, while he does things, at least on occasion. And I can't do that for him, not now, not yet."

That phrasing. "Not yet? So you're planning to come back?"

"I've had enough down time. I'm starting to get restless; my wife keeps commenting on the fact too." Punk says with a laugh. "So I'd like to come back soon. The key is when to do so. That's something we can plan on, along with other things. That is, if you're in. If you're not, no hard feelings. We won't turn you in to the Authority. It's up to you what you want to do."

And he believed him when he said no hard feelings. Still, it was an easy decision for him, especially after everything going on. He needed help. Maybe in the beginning he wouldn't have accepted it, but he was getting desperate now. He extends his hand.

"Where do I sign?" Seth grins.

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First there was an opportunity, then there was an obligation.

He couldn't say that he wasn't excited to face Ziggler for the Intercontinental Title. Ziggler was a great talent-and yes, he thought he was underutilized as well-and this was for something as prestigious as the Intercontinental Title. Hell people like Shawn Michaels and Chris Jericho had once held it, people whom he had great respect for in the business for all they had accomplished. He was excited. It was an opportunity, one he wasn't exactly glad of in how he got it, but he certainly wouldn't let the chance slip him by. And a match like this, where he had to put all of his focus in, helped to keep those thoughts at bay. The thoughts that consumed most of his waking thoughts. Thoughts which were only eased slightly by the fact that he was not alone in his fight against the Authority. Not alone...even if his company was not exactly the ones he wanted most. Still, they had done a lot to help him and were both putting a lot on the line by doing so.

The match with Ziggler was going well, he thought. A lot of nice back and forth, near-falls (though he would have preferred to have just won the first time around instead of near-falling with him.) It just had the unfortunate side effect of being halted by Randy Orton with an actual RKO out of nowhere. It still smarted. And then he watches Orton getting what he wants and that he has to wrestle him. Swell. As if he didn't just have a hard fought match. Now he had to wrestle again. And it didn't help that Orton was really, really pissed at him.

And honestly it wasn't really his fault; Orton was obviously ready to blow at any time. He had to get Orton before Orton got him. He knew he had to watch his back. Although he had his own goals to take care of, very important ones, he always knew that people could easily get in the way of that, intentional or not. Which is why he tried to stamp out Orton's anger problems early. It just happened to backfire a bit. Still, he wouldn't take shit lying down.

The match was pretty damn good. Honestly he was a bit surprised at how much chemistry they had with one another. People didn't always click at first when they first wrestled, or even awhile after. He had seen plenty of people who just never really clicked well over all (as in the case of Cena and Orton) or took awhile to click but became good once they did. But he and Orton gelled well from the get go.

He really wasn't as mad at Orton as he let on. Not now anyway; most of his anger had left in the curb stomp he had did to Orton in the cage on Raw. But now he had to act like it still bothered him as much; his persona demanded it. He couldn't let the Authority, or any one associated with them, that he had gone soft, that he was siding with Orton against them. Not yet. Possibly never. That all depended on later things. Right now he had to fight Orton, had to hurt him, had to act like the man pissed him off (and admittedly he did, by RKO-ing him after the match and the like) and to curb stomp him into the steel steps with-no pun intended-authority.

The pretend anger, the real anger, all of it, helped to keep the nasty thoughts in his mind at bay. Like the fact of how Dean looked so amused in his dealings with Bray Wyatt; that the man had shifted his focus away from Seth and onto someone else.

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A/N: Ooh! Is that a note of jealousy I detect, Seth? Yes. Yes it is. XD

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice