Seth awoke with a start, gasping and shouting like he'd just woken from a dreadful nightmare.
Or woken into one.
The panic worsened when he realized he couldn't move. He was lying flat on his belly. He tried shaking at whatever was tying him down, but it made his muscles catch fire. That was right. He'd been attacked before blacking out.
So where was he now?
Seth struggled to control his breathing. He was handling his revelation of distress much worse than Dean and Roman had. In slowly, out slowly, he commanded himself. You let yourself freak out, you'll pass out again. It took three or four minutes before he finally settled his heart rate to a steady speed. He took each break in with great caution and cast it out just the same.
Okay, Rollins. Think. Focus. What happened?
He closed his eyes and remembered the yellow-demon eyes that gazed down at him during the assault. Before the blackout.
Kane's.
"Shit," he whispered. Kane had followed him. Caught up somehow. Now he was in trouble. Perhaps there was a way to get Kane's forgiveness. He'd gotten it before. Kane liked him, right? Surely Kane would understand, right? Desperate times, desperate measures?
All Seth had to cling to was hope. Dean and Roman were God knew where. Unless Kane had managed to track them down, too…reclaim them as prisoners…
A light flashed on. Seth blinked, his eyes overran by glare. He closed them, let them settle down, then opened them again. He gasped as he realized he was in the center of a wrestling ring.
Even worse, hogtied in the center of a wrestling ring.
Seth caught the sound of pounding footsteps. Heels clacking against a hard floor. He strained his neck to look up. His throat dried up like cotton when he saw Triple H and Stephanie McMahon sauntering down the way. Right towards him. Neither of them looked too thrilled to see him.
Oh, God, I am screwed, I am so screwed. The most he could move was rocking back and forth on his stomach like a snake.
Triple H hoisted himself onto the ring, then assisted Steph
"H-hey, Triple H, Steph," Seth tried. There was no hiding the rattling in his voice. He was scared shitless. "How's it going?"
"You're in no position to talk, Seth," Stephanie thundered.
Seth closed his mouth.
Stephanie looked at Triple H, who nodded at her. She walked high and tall on her red heels, pacing the floor in front of Seth. "So let me try to understand what's been happening over these past couple of days." She counted the points off on her fingers. "You kidnapped Dean Ambrose. You kidnapped Roman Reigns."
Fuck, is she gonna have me arrested? My career is over. It's so fucking over. I'm so fucking done.
"You had them under your complete control. Even called on Kane for assistance. A very wise decision on your part, since you clearly can't handle anything on your fucking own!" She screamed the last few words. "Somehow you managed to not only let them both get away, but you turned on Kane!? After everything this organization has done for you, you go crawling back to the scum of Reigns and Ambrose?"
Wait. She was happy he'd taken those two prisoner? Glad? Up until now, of course. He watched her walk, afraid she'd thrust one of those tall-ass heels into his eye if he said the wrong thing.
"Well?" she demanded. "Is that the situation as I know it?"
Lie, he thought. Just lie. It's all you can do. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"
The heel of the shoe hit him, but mercifully in the stomach instead of the eye. It still hurt like hell.
"You're goddamn right, you're sorry," Triple H bellowed. "You're lucky we're in charge around here instead of Kane. He wanted to strap your ass to a boulder and fling you into the ocean."
Seth counted his blessings.
"But that doesn't mean you're getting away with defying us like that," Stephanie assured. "Oh, no. You'll pay for that one."
It still confounded Seth that Stephanie and Triple H were more concerned with his turning on Kane than the hefty list of charges the police would hit him with. It didn't mean he was in any less trouble. In fact, he was more terrified of what these two could do to him than any policemen or judge in the nation.
They must have really had it out for Dean and Roman.
"Wh-what are you going to do to me?" Seth stammered.
"Oh, we're not gonna do anything to you," Triple H said. The grin was unnerving. "We spoke to an old friend who said he'd give us a hand. You love to call others for aid so much, so we decided to take a page out of your book."
Seth felt someone standing behind him. He twisted his body as much as his bondage allowed. His insides grew rigid. His heart almost gave out on him.
Brock Lesnar stood over him, arms folded over his chest, feet spread apart. And just smiling.
Seth looked to Triple H and Stephanie, pleading with his eyes. "Come on, guys, no. You can't do this to me."
"Oh, we can't turn you over?" Steph asked. "The way you turned Kane over in favor of those two sons of bitches? Hmm?"
Brock was enjoying watching Seth shake like a leaf. He bent down and pet Seth like a dog across the head.
"Don't touch me," Seth commanded. "Don't touch me!"
Brock picked Seth up, who wriggled in his bondage. Dropping to the floor, hitting the mat from this height, would feel like a wonderful massage compared to anything Brock had in store for him—
A ringing chimed in the arena. The ring of a phone.
It was Stephanie's. She glanced at the screen and smiled. "Seems the boys received our message."
Boys? Dean and Roman?
Stephanie nodded to Brock, who dropped Seth back to the ground. There's your fucking massage, he could imagine Brock spitting in his ear.
Stephanie answered the phone. "Roman, darling. Where've you been?"
"What the hell does that mean, you're next?" Dean asked as soon as he'd shaken Roman awake and showed him the picture of Seth. "That's gonna happen to us?" He pointed a thumb at the horrifying photo.
Roman licked his lips. "It means we escaped the wrath of Kane. And they're not happy about it."
"They?"
"I'm guessing the Authority's responsible for this." He gripped the phone tight. "Kane told them Seth helped us out, and now they're pissed."
"Sounds like them." Dean huffed. "Dammit, I thought this was over. Now the entire Authority is after us?" He paced the orange carpet of the hotel room, running his fingers through his slightly wet hair. "What are we gonna do, Roman?"
Roman was asking himself the same question. Dean's panic helped him remain a bit calmer than his…what was Dean to him now? More than a friend, but were they official yet? In a relationship? Couldn't call him a brother now, that was off the table—it didn't matter. He needed to get them out of this.
"They're not going to leave us alone," Roman said, feeling he was stating the obvious. He pulled back the curtain and watched the snow tumble and turn in the air, cartwheel to the ground. Piles in the parking lot were already up to four inches high. "They'll find a way to get to us. Find us. Make us pay. On Seth's behalf."
"We can't avoid them forever," Dean agreed.
"So we need to show ourselves to them. Kill the suspense. We can't just run and hide. That's the coward's way out, and we're above that. I'm not afraid of those fuckers. If it's a fight they want, it's a fight they'll get."
Dean clapped his hands together and rubbed them like a madman conjuring up a grand scheme to take over the world. "I like that. But how're we going to win against them? We're two guys against the whole fucking Authority. And I bet you anything Seth went crawling back to them begging for forgiveness as soon as he was caught, so we have that going against us, too."
"That could be true." Roman clenched the curtain tight at the thought. "In fact, I'd bet on it."
"Wait. Roman. I've got it. We need leverage."
Roman faced Dean. "Leverage?"
"Yeah. It's what they've used on us since day one. Something against the adversary. A reason to make you fold, back down. It's dirty, but it's the only way we can get to them. Have something on them they can't ignore." His voice went Don Corleone: "Make them an offer they can't refuse."
Roman smiled. All these cute little quirks Dean had paved the road to Roman falling in love with him. "What sort of leverage do you think would be effective against Triple H and Steph…"
Dean had to think about it, too. It wasn't easy coming up with a solution. Roman kept watching the snow fall. To someone without a coat, the snow was bitter, nasty, cold slush that caused car wrecks and frostbite. To someone with a coat, it was beautiful, tranquil, perfection, a unique creation of nature to catch on your tongue while holding the hand of a loved one.
Winds rattled, but if you had a coat, you could bear it.
It was all a matter of having an advantage.
Advantage…
Roman had an idea. "Got it," he announced.
"Damn, you're good," Dean said. He folded his arms and watched Roman scroll through his contacts until he pulled up Seth's number.
"You ready?" Roman asked.
"Ready for it to be over," Dean said. "Yeah."
Steph answered after two short rings.
"Roman, darling. Where've you been?"
He'd almost forgotten how much she irritated him. "Just planning out what I'm gonna say at Kane's funeral," Roman answered. "What do you think of this: 'Here lies a rotten rogue who finally gets to meet his role model and hero, Satan, as he burns in hell for eternity'?"
"You three really fucked up recently." She'd completely ignored his quip. "It started with Seth, who couldn't fight his way out of a wet bag, and ended with all three members of the Shield banding together in a cute little fight for justice and leaving Kane near-dead in some office park. And now? All three of you are going to pay."
The way she spoke made it sound like the Authority hadn't taken Seth back even after punishing him for his turn. "Where's Seth, Stephanie?"
"His babysitter's looking after him."
Babysitter? Fuck, who else was in on this? "Listen, McMahon. We want Seth back."
Naturally, Steph's response was lightened laughter. "Did you hear that, Rollins? Your brothers are pleading your case." So Seth was there. Hearing all of this. He was alive. Good. "And, pray tell, why should I just give him back to you?"
"We have something you want."
Steph clicked her tongue. "And what's that?"
"Our contracts. Mine and Dean's."
Silence. Gotcha, bitch. Roman grinned ear to ear.
"I'm sorry, your…contracts?"
"That's right. Here's my proposal, Steph, and make sure Triple H gets every word of this through his thick skull, too, so there's no miscommunication. We want a match. Not just any match, but a three-on-three brawl. The Shield versus whoever you fuckers decide to put against us."
Another pause. Roman swore he heard her biting a fingernail. "Are you being serious right now, Reigns?"
"Bitch, do I sound like I'm fucking joking?" Roman fought to control his temper. He didn't want Seth taking any cheap shots as a result of his misbehavior. "Three-on-three. You can make up the rules as you please. If we win, we get Seth back, the Shield reunites, and you leave us the fuck alone. And if we lose," he blurted, knowing Steph was about to ask for her own amusement. "We're out. You get mine and Dean's contracts, and you do what you want with us. You'll probably choose to terminate us. Ban us from the WWE. Forever. But, I mean, it's your call."
"What about Seth's contract?"
"If he wants in on the deal. He'd be taking part, after all, so he should get to choose what he does with his own contract."
He heard Steph mumble, "Did you get all of that?" Her voice sounded off. Roman assumed he'd been put on Speaker phone so Triple H could hear everything.
"We have a deal, Steph?" Roman asked.
"Fine, Roman. You'll have your match. How soon shall this go down?"
"I'm sure you can rack up a few fighters and pick a location in no time. Long as you give us time to actually get there."
"Are you still in the state? Or have you fled like mice?"
"We're still here in Colorado."
"World Arena, then. Tonight. Five o'clock. Don't be late. We'll have everything ready for you."
"Great. I'm looking forward to it." Why did she have to emphasize her words like that? It didn't make sense in her speech half the time.
"See you tonight, boys."
The call ended.
"Roman, are you sure about this?" Dean asked, crooking his head.
"As sure as I've been of anything," Roman assured. "Think about it, Dean. Imagine wrestling without the Authority always breathing down our necks. The chance to not only work hard, but work hard knowing it's going to go somewhere. They won't be able to hold us back. Constantly screw us over."
"I get that, sure. It sounds like the best thing in the world. But look at us. Are we really gonna be able to fight in our conditions?"
Roman smiled softly. "I've seen the Lunatic Fringe show up in the back of an ambulance to face Bray Wyatt with a neck injury. I've seen him—unfortunately—get curb-stomped through a pile of cinder blocks by Seth Rollins on Raw, and not only refuse medical treatment, but friggin' disappear from the WWE medical personnel altogether. And I just watched you take on Kane, the Devil's Favorite Demon, with two severe foot injuries." Roman raised his hand to Dean's shoulder. "I have faith in you, Dean. I have faith in us. I know we can do this."
Dean shook his head to agree, with some hesitation Roman caught onto. "It's just that…man, seeing Bray Wyatt lay into you like that…that was really…terrifying." Dean never liked to admit when he was afraid. This was taking a mass of courage. He veered his head to look into Roman's eyes. His eyes brimmed with tears. "I can handle whatever these bastards hit me with in the ring. But I don't think I can handle watching you get all fucked up like that again…"
"Listen to me," Roman said, now taking both of Dean's shoulders in a comforting grip. "Nothing's going to happen to me. I was ambushed by Bray Wyatt. He played dirty. He fought cheap. The Authority? Maybe we can expect some tricks from them, but you, me, Seth, we're going to destroy them. We've dealt with these fuckers before. We know what they're all about. I'm not going to let anything happen to me. And I swear to you, I'm not going to let anything happen to you, either. You're too important to me, and I wouldn't be able to stand watching you suffer again like that…"
He ran his hand down Dean's arm, taking Dean's hand into his own, lifting it to his lips as they spoke the truth that rattled him.
"I can't lose you."
"You won't," Dean said. He licked his lips. They looked delicious. "You never will."
