A/N: Hey guys! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter up, my muses were kinda all over the place. So, I think this is the last chapter. I mean, unless something strikes me that fits just right. It's been a lot of fun writing this and I hope you all had as much fun reading it. Your support has been overwhelming. I hope you liked It WWE'sFinestDiva2012! PM me if you have any other great ideas! Happy Reading!
The Shield
Sara's head snapped up and she shot daggers at him. Her tears had stopped as soon as Dean had stopped talking to Randy, but she hadn't straightened her cramped-over-her-stomach position. Roman cocked an eyebrow and Dean's mouth fell open. They both trained their eyes on her stomach which was slightly more swollen than it had been even at TLC. There was a moment of charged silence and Sara looked up at him. Looking unsure, she straightened up slightly, stretching her dress over her stomach, and he stepped a little closer to the chair. Her thin fingers clutched lightly onto the leg of his pants and he wasn't the only one who looked curiously in her direction.
"What are you doing?" Ambrose asked roughly. It wasn't exactly a questioning tone more of a "what-the-hell-are-you-doing" tone. Her eyes glinted in a way similar to her husband's and she jerked her chin up in the air. She didn't say anything. He growled in frustration and gestured in her direction. "You see? She's so damn stubborn!"
"It's all she knows! Her husband is Randy Orton! Her brother is John Cena! It's the way she was raised! No one's punished you for being a jackass have they?"
"My question," Roman interrupted, glaring at both of them, "is why you keep defending her." At this, a familiar look, one that made Dean nervous and even Roman step back, crossed Seth's face. His right hand clenched into a fist and he laid his left hand hesitantly on her back. She flinched slightly, then relaxed, seeming to sense the safe haven.
"Because I lost my wife and my unborn child to three lowlifes in an alley four years ago tomorrow. It's a hell that I wouldn't wish on anyone, not you, not Randy, not even the big red monster himself. I won't be the reason she loses the life inside her," he snapped, fury clouding his eyes. "Now I've gone along with all of your injustice crap so far but I'm not going to tolerate you hitting her." Dean's trademark smirk appeared on his face.
"What are you gonna do? Fight us?" he prodded, stepping forward next to Reigns. Seth looked around for a second, reached up and yanked a loose rod from the ramshackle shack roof and twirled it carefully in his hands.
"If I have to." That was the last thing he said before the door burst open and a pissed off Cenation leader, a furious hooligan and a near crazy Viper were flooding the room.
Randy
Sheamus stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on him. Randy sat very still, leaning on his forearms and glancing at his phone every few seconds. He'd gotten a better grip on his emotions and the one tell-tale sign of his anxiety was his silence. His eyes flickered up to the Great White every once in a while, an almost frustrated look crossing his face. It was in one of these moments of awkward eye contact that his phone buzzed. His hand snapped out faster than he thought possible and Sheamus moved forward slightly, ready to restrain him or blow up screaming at the three idiots on the other end of the phone. Randy's shoulders loosened, a little tension draining out of his face and he clicked the answer button, pressing the phone to his ear.
"John?" he asked into the phone, not bothering with a preamble. The Irishman across the room relaxed his stance, leaning back against the wall.
"Hey, we think we found her." He jerked into a ramrod straight position, startling Sheamus.
"Where is she?" he hissed, hands clenching. He stumbled to his feet, pacing nervously, ignoring the curious stare of his friend.
"There's this little shack thing, just outside of the arena. I think they use it for storage. Justin checked the windows out and she's in there," his brother-in-law hesitated as he explained, clearly not wanting to tell the rest.
"Talk," the Viper snapped, not bothering to be polite. John sighed.
"She's tied up to a chair. Rollins has a pipe," he finished, fury leaking into his voice as well. This was his sister, not just Randy's wife. He snapped the phone shut, striding towards the door. He glared up at Sheamus, who had moved to block his way.
"You're a good friend, so listen carefully. They found my Sara and if you aren't out of my way in three seconds, I won't hesitate to send you to the hospital along with Ambrose, Reigns, and Rollins," he explained, enunciating his words slowly. A spark of anger ignited in the Irishman's eyes, but he was smart enough to realize that it's aimed at the rookies that took one of his best friends, not him.
"Where is she?" the Great White demanded, his accent thickening with annoyance.
"I'll explain on the way."
He did explain, as Sheamus listened angrily. When the shack came in sight, it took all of his careful control to not bust in the door right then and there. John and his, er, search party had met with Punk and his and the superstars milled restlessly, waiting for their shots at The Shield. All eyes turned to the Viper as he strode straight to John, in the middle of the group.
"You, me, Sheamus. That's all that's going in right away." Agitated murmurs broke out amongst the superstars and Punk looked like he was about to speak when Randy opened his mouth. "There's no damn way I'm sitting out on this, John either. It's personal to us and if one of you wants to stop Sheamus, go ahead." The challenge went unanswered due to the look of anger burning in the green eyes of the Great White. "You can all come in later and do what you want; I need to make sure Sara gets out okay." Of course, mentioning his wife (and with the knowledge of her delicate condition, no less), shut the protesters up. "Ready?" he asked, locking eyes with his brother-in-law and best friend. John smiled tightly.
"When am I not? Sheamus?" The look on the face of their Irish friend was almost humorous.
"Fella, I was born ready." At these confirmations, Randy stalked towards the shack, superstars clearing a path for him and the others. He barely paused to take a breath before ramming his shoulder through the rickety wooden door. Reigns and Ambrose looked stunned for a moment and Sheamus and John didn't give them a chance to recover. He wasted little time in making his way across the small room. Rollins jumped out of the way, dropping the pipe or rod or whatever it was. He couldn't be bothered with the rookie at the look on his wife's face. Her gray-green eyes filled with tears and her beautiful smile broke out across her face.
"Hi babe," she breathed as he ripped the ropes carefully off of her wrists and ankles. As gently as he could, he jerked her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, reigning in his fury and trying to be careful of the bleeding cuts along her right shoulder and down her arm. The chaos around them was in the back of his awareness as he breathed in her calming scent. Of course, Sheamus's gleeful laugh drew their attention. He'd gone after Reigns, who managed to land a punch to the jaw of their friend. Sheamus was laughing and Roman was backing away slowly when the Great White chose to lunge. Randy turned his focus to Rollins, a black cloud of anger rolling across his face. He released his wife, bending and retrieving the fallen pipe. To his credit, Seth didn't flinch, merely raised his hands in defense. Just as he was about to bring the pipe into contact, Sara scrambled in front of the rookie. Confusion reigned the dominant emotion on her husband's face as he brought the pipe to an abrupt stop inches from her arm.
"Sara. Get out of the way," he growled, not attempting to control his temper. She straightened her spine and he recognized the 'Excuse me?' look on her face that she usually showed when John told her to do something.
"No. Randy, honey, listen. He didn't hurt me. Really. He was the one protecting me from those," she broke off, clearly trying to find a word that described exactly how she felt about Ambrose and Reigns, "those people. He was only holding the pipe to protect me." Her husband looked confused, but didn't relinquish his weapon.
"He's guilty by association," he snapped, making eye contact with Rollins. The man didn't look like he disagreed and was trying to step around Sara, who was stubbornly jerking on his arm.
"If you want to hit him," she said, eyes glinting, as she tightened her grip on Seth's arm and stood straight up, "then you're going to have to go through me." He growled under his breath, not bothering to hide his frustration as he chucked the pipe at Ambrose's head.
"Fine. Come on Sar, we gotta go. You too," he added sullenly, insistently picking her up despite her protests. John and Sheamus retreated with them, slowly backing out in front of the group, much to the amusement of Dean and Roman.
"Get back here Seth!" Dean shouted as they made their way out of the shack. Sara smiled widely as she saw the entire locker room waiting for her, cheering when Randy emerged, holding her carefully. "Cowards!" Her husband froze halfway back to the group, slowly turning back to face the two remaining members of The Shield. One of his trademark disturbing smiles grew on his face and he nodded in the direction of the shack.
"Your turn," he called, addressing the rest of the roster. The look on Dean and Roman's faces made him laugh as the superstars surged forward.
Seth
"Are you sure you're okay? I still think you should go to the hospital," Randy said for the sixth time as he carefully wrapped gauze around the cuts on Sara's arm. Seth looked up from the bench he was sitting on in the trainer's room (one look at the Viper had sent the man from the room with little protest) and caught the roll of her eyes.
"Babe, I'm fine. Little Caden Randall's fine too. They didn't touch my stomach," she insisted, a small smile on her face. She placed a hand on his cheek, trying to calm him down and, in response, he leaned into her touch and a small smile crossed his face. Seth felt like he was intruding on their private moment and looked away. "Can I see my brother now?" Randy sighed, leaning over to kiss her forehead, before nodding and standing up. He moved to the door and opened it, revealing a worried Cenation leader and an anxious Irishman.
"Sara," John breathed, side-stepping the Apex Predator and carefully wrapping his arms around his sister. Her eyes welled up and she was hugging him back. Seth looked down at the floor, feeling awkward – he was, after all, part of the plan that had taken her in the first place. The heavy hand on his shoulder startled him and he jerked his eyes up nervously to meet the eyes of his ex-hostage's husband. He flinched slightly away from his gaze. Both of their eyes turned to Sara. She was laughing as Sheamus scooped her up and squeezed her tightly.
"Thank you," he finally said, his voice rough. "We weren't going to tell people she was pregnant. She…she miscarried at the end of her second trimester two years ago. She wanted to wait until she'd entered her third. She knew that there might be complications, but she figured she'd have to explain her baby bump eventually. Thank you for protecting her. I don't think she'd have been able to handle it if she'd lost him. She's named him and painted the nursery and," the Viper trailed off, clearing his throat. He sat down heavily next to Seth and leaned on his forearms, interlacing his fingers. "And I wouldn't be able to live if she didn't." Seth forced a small smile.
"I lost my wife four years ago to three druggies in an alley. She was pregnant. I'd never force that on anyone. Not even you," he joked weakly, looking at the floor. A side of Randy that no one but Sara, John, and maybe Sheamus ever saw came to the surface as he laid a comforting hand on his arm.
"You're welcome in our family anytime," he murmured, standing up. Seth looked up at this, feeling confused. A half smile appeared on Randy's face. "Come on. Come meet them."