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, etc.

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 Four - Discoveries

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"You know," he begins, sitting down at the table. "You're not who I expected to be talking to right now."

"Oh, really? You don't say."

"I can hear the sarcasm from here."

"He's busy with some stuff right now, which is why he wanted me to babysi-excuse me, "talk" to you, until he showed up."

"You got a problem with me or something? You do know pretty much everything people see of me nowadays is a lie, right?." He says, stretching a bit. He felt a bit stiff.

AJ merely smiles at him. "No!" she exclaims, smile widening. "No problem! I was just yanking your chain to see how you'd react."

"And did I pass?" he asks, a bit of sarcasm flooding his voice now.

"Yep! Had to make sure you were someone worth Punk putting this much effort into helping. He's my husband and I love him." She stops smiling, looking more serious than Seth had ever seen her. "And I'll do whatever it takes to protect him and keep him safe. Like what you're doing for Ambrose."

That kind of startles Seth a bit. Not the protecting bit. He got that easily. He understood both her need to protect her husband as well as his need to protect Dean. But he never expected her to connect the two in that way. Compare his willingness to protect Dean to her protecting her husband. He feels heat fill his face unexpectedly and bites off a curse at it.

He glares as she giggles at him. "What?" he mutters.

"Oh, nothing." she says in a sing-song voice. "Notice you didn't deny what I said at all."

"Why would I deny it?"

Now she is the one who looks startled.

"You mean, you actually-" She doesn't get to finish her sentence as someone comes over to their table.

They look up to see Punk standing there.

"Hey. So what'd I miss?"

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Punk slides into a seat next to AJ nonchalantly, looking calm. Seth wondered just what Punk had been up to, for AJ to be talking to him in his stead until he returned. More business with Mercury, maybe?

"Not much," Seth says, eyeing Punk. There was something that was going on, but he didn't know what. He didn't like not knowing. Knowledge was power, especially in this situation where knowledge was key to salvaging the situation he had gotten himself into, the key to protecting that which he cared about most. "Just chit-chatting until you got here. Something important?"

"Not much," Punk says nonchalantly. "Just finished interrogating Jamie Noble."

"Excuse me?"

"Mercury found him nosing around where he was. Wanted to see what he knew."

"You didn't beat him for information, did you?" Seth asks drily.

"Ha ha. We're not the mob. I just asked. He was more than willing to spill anyway."

"Plus if he beat him up, then Noble would definitely blurt out who did the deed to him." AJ points out. "In this way, at least, we can minimize the damage as much as possible."

Huh. She was a smart one too. He could see why people liked her.

"And what did he spill?"

"Why don't you ask him yourself." Punk turns his head and gestures with his hand.

Mercury comes into their field of vision. "He's at my hotel room. He's got nothing to hide."

And he did.

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"I didn't mean anything by it," Noble says, voice filled with that southern twang of his. "I just wanted to see what he was doing and if I could give him a hand. The Authority..." He stops, looking hesitant. After a look at Mercury, and Punk, who nod, he continues. "They're not the easiest to deal with. And they're not nice people either. Joey's always been nice to me. Been nice and meant it, you know? He's not like them, the way they've treated me..." A hint of anger brushes his tone. "He's the only one who's really cared. Then I saw what he was doing..."

"And realized who he was doing it for."

"Yeah." Noble says, glancing at Seth then away from him. "I had no idea. But!" He looks at Seth with a little more vigor this time. "I won't say anything. I promise. I'm not like them. I'm not. If Joey is helping you then I will too!"

He raises an eyebrow. "Oh really? And how can I trust you? You've been hanging around the Authority for who knows how lo-"

"So has Joey!" Noble exclaims. "Look, I get if you don't really trust me yet. But let me prove it to you! I-I can keep an eye out for Joey. You have a lot of stuff you have to take care of. And it wouldn't look funny if I hung around him, because I do that anyway. I'm not as good with the paper stuff as he is, but I can at least watch his back."

"I trust him." Mercury says quietly. Seth glances at him. "You've only seen some of the things that the Authority does. We've seen more; we've been around them longer. They're not good people and not good to Jamie. He can be trusted."

Seth slowly nods. He had to get used to having help; he knew that's part of what his problem, his hesitation, was. He was so used to trying to do it on his own that it made it difficult to accept help, even when he obviously could use it.

"Okay." He says. "Okay. You've got people vouching for you, so okay. And...I could use the help. I'd appreciate it."

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Noble being on their side was turning out rather invaluable, funnily enough. He was eyes and ears for him and Mercury both, which gave valuable heads-up when Mercury needed to stop his searching or the like. He could also keep the Authority busy and was the best at placating the Authority, so he was a valuable asset in that alone. He also seemed to have an uncanny knack for knowing when someone was coming near and how to keep their attention on him; which was very handy as it gave Mercury time to be out of whereever he had been nosing around. He didn't realize just how much they complimented each other as partners-in-crime. They seemed to be good friends too, which made him ache to look at sometimes; it reminded him of the times of the past with Dean and Roman and it made the pain all the more deeper.

They were also now doing their best to talk to him and become friends. They were nice, and surprisingly funny, and the pain sliced all the deeper as a result. But...still, talking with them, and with Punk? It brought out the first genuine smile in him in a long, long time.

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It always grated on his nerves to have to stand around with the Authority as often as he did. They wanted to show a united image to the fans and to the wrestlers. If they knew just how little quite a few of them now thought of them, they'd have been surprised. He drowned as much of what they were talking about, nodding and smirking here and there to show that he was listening and agreeing. Still, as much as he was not a fan of John Cena, he hated the Authority that much more, so if Cena could get a big guy like Ryback on his Team, more power to him.

Oh, wait. Ryback attacks Cena. Guess that wasn't in the cards. Oh well.

Still, he had a match to focus on. Even if it was with someone like Swagger, he couldn't give anything less; that's when mistakes were made. And unwilling lapdog of the Authority or not, he was still a wrestler and still had a wrestlers pride.

The match didn't go exactly as he wanted, but it was serviceable. And it felt nice to have people having his back, even briefly, even if they weren't exactly the strongest or the ones he truly wanted, it still felt nice to have that feeling of not alone, even if it was only briefly.

But wrestling a match wasn't his only purpose out there. He knew quite clearly from Triple-H and Stephanie what they wanted; they wanted Swagger out of commission. They were scared, even if they didn't let on much, of Cena and what team he might gather up. He had been a thorn in their side for a long time and the caveat that Vince had made that they would lose their position as the Authority was making them even more paranoid. As much as he longed for them to not be in a position of power, he still had to play it carefully. Them being without the power of the Authority didn't guarantee safety for Dean; that would not stop them from hitting him where it hurt worst and doing everything in their power to devastate him and deal a crippling blow to him. And they could easily do that, so he had to play things even more carefully during this time. If they got tired of him, they could lash out at him, lash out at people who he was not even supposed to have contact with anymore. So, for now, he still did as they told of him. It was for the best.

Though not the best for Swagger, who got a couple of Curb Stomp's for his trouble.

Still, it was nice to win and he finds himself celebrating with Mercury and Noble, hugging them both. The hugging reminding him painfully of the hugs he'd share with Dean and Roman after a match, a sign of their Brotherhood to one another. He did his best to tune out the "You sold out" chants from the fans. He couldn't blame them.

While he may have made a deal with the Devil, he hadn't sold out, despite appearances. Maybe one day he'd be able to tell Roman and Dean that.

And maybe one day they'd believe him.

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He gets a locker room to himself, for once, and uses the opportunity to keep track of the show while he's resting up. His heart drops into his stomach when he sees Dean on the television, in the backstage area that was not that far from where he was now, speaking. He looked good, if angry and tense. He knew Dean very well and he had learned over his time around him to pick up a lot on what Dean was feeling or not letting on; often Dean wouldn't say what was wrong with him, so he and Roman had had to learn to pick up on his body language, his ticks, things like that.

A rap-sheet a mile long in the business, Dean? He certainly did. He aches at hearing Dean talk that way about himself, calling himself a sinner, saying how he had done dirty, dirty, things to people. He heard Dean say he wouldn't apologize for it, and while Seth knew that he wouldn't have apologized for everything, he certainly would have for some things. Sinner. He knew Dean sometimes had self-loathing that was a mile deep and five miles wide. And without Seth by his side, without Roman there...the darkness only festered without ever truly healing.

"You're wrong about a few things, Dean." he finds himself murmuring. "I'll never let you self-destruct no matter how much you think you want it. And I'll pull you out of Hell as many times as it takes."

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He felt for Mercury and Noble out there, having to deal with Sheamus, but he had his own things to take care of. Like getting ready to talk to Ryback. This sure would be "fun". He'd have to remind himself extra hard that when he finally got out of the Authority's grasp to give Triple-H a huge fucking punch to his huge fucking nose. And then about fifty more times for good measure. And a Curb Stomp or twelve.

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He knew Ryback didn't like him, and that was fine. They had had their differences from awhile ago and that probably wouldn't change any time soon. After their beef from earlier, he no longer truly disliked the man, but he wasn't a fan of his either. But he had to talk to him, whether he really wanted to or not. The Authority wanted to try and keep Ryback as happy as possible. Of course it was turning out the complete opposite way, from what Seth could tell, but he wasn't going to tell them that. And by the way that Kane had talked, he'd be able to talk in the same kind of tone without rousing too much suspicion; so he could essentially say that it would not be a good idea to join the Authority without actually saying so. And no one would be any the wiser. Sometimes he caught a break every once and awhile and it was nice.

"Welcome aboard."

"WWE is on the line; it doesn't get any bigger than this!"

"I agree with you! You don't need to take orders from Kane; you take them from me!"

Yeah, sometimes it was fun to fuck around with people, especially if it got a result he wanted.

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Having to sit there and listen to Bray Wyatt talk instead of going and punching his face in? Yeah that was killing him. Especially hearing Wyatt talk more about Dean, talk more about Dean's father like he knew the situation, like he knew him.

Talk of Gods and monsters meant jack shit to people like Dean Ambrose. Words like those would never put fear into Dean's heart. No, the real fear was of man and what man could do; that was what could pierce Dean's nearly impenetrable flesh. Words sliced through like daggers. And chair shots to the back ripped hearts in two.

And if the metaphorical Devil named Bray Wyatt tried to pull down Dean into the depths of Hell, he'd Curb Stomp Wyatt so far into Hell that he'd never come out. He'd make sure of it.

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Mercury and Noble were pulling triple duty tonight. Well quadruple duty, actually, if you counted their help with the Mission (as he was calling it.)

He had to try to play peacemaker between Kane and Ryback but that definitely didn't work. Ryback was certainly a strong guy. So was Big Show, but any man could get taken down and he sent him down with a good shin kick. Still, they also got back up. And getting taken out by Ryback was no fun. He was sure to have a few bruises from it.

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Talking about things he had no business talking about or knowing. Again. If he had to watch much more of this, he'd say fuck it and kick Wyatt's ass anyway.

"Here I am; embrace me, Dean Ambrose. Let me fix you, Dean. Salvation is at hand. Let me fix you, Dean."

Fixating on Dean like that. Talking to him. Calling Dean a hero? Dean was many things, but he would have never called himself a hero. He didn't think highly enough of himself to think that or to say that.

"Follow me, for I will lead you into the light."

He didn't like to think about it. But right now Dean was alone. And as tough as he was, these psychological attacks were getting to him, even if only a bit. His anger could only hold out so long. He could only hold out so long while alone, with no one there to watch his back.

He grimaces. "Damnit."

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He's up and out of his chair, with it clattering to the floor, before he realizes it, taking in what he just saw happen. It wasn't like it was a freak occurance. He had seen it many times since the chair shot to their backs said the Shield was over. He had seen his face in a grimace of pain. Had seen the anger, the frowns, the sadness, had seen the pain, both metaphorical and physical. He had seen him in pain. Had personally delivered it, both mental and physical to him himself.

But this.

Bray Wyatt hurting him, holding him close in a mockery of...of something.

Touching Dean.

He finds himself running out of his room before he can help himself, all the while thinking Dean, Dean, Dean.

Where was he going? Just what the hell was he going to do? His mind was a cluster of emotions and thoughts he couldn't sift through, feet moving quickly over the concrete. Eventually he comes to a halt, stopping cold, a fission running through him as he sees Dean standing up carefully. Sees Dean turning. Sees Dean looking at him.

"You."

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A/N: Oh no, Seth! What are you doing?! ...oh wait, I know that too. XD Though honestly, I don't think Seth really knows what he's doing. But seeing Dean in pain? Yeah...well, we'll see how it goes from here! =P

I hope you enjoyed this!

Let me know what you thought!

-PhoenixJustice