Okay, so even though Dean is leaving our tv screens and either taking 6 months off or going elsewhere or whatever (kind of love and hate dirt sheets at the same time) I still have Shield stories to pump out for you, so hopefully you'll keep on indulging me. I'll be here if you are!
Mandy, Oh no! Sorry to hear about the horrible phone call. Life is definitely sent to try us sometimes. But it makes it even better when the good times come round (as they do, eventually, if only briefly!) Business is definitely picking up in this story and I think you are going to like this chapter...I think you're going to like it a lot!
Wolfgirl2013, Hunter is still floating around in the background and still being a bad father/all round bad dude!
Minnie1015, I know! Dean, what have you done to us! But yeah, guess I'll hold out hope he's just taking the summer off and then coming back. I mean, that's possible right? The brotherhood will always love on in my writing though. They have no choice on that!
xXBalorBabeXx, Don't worry, Dean will always be here in my stories flying the company flag. Sucks about him leaving in real life, but thank god for YouTube and old match videos!
Skovko, Seth is back and yeah, Dean is not a happy bunny. Seth is going to have an interesting role in this story (well, interesting to me anyway, hopefully to you too!)
Phoenix lord of rebirth, Sooo glad you're still enjoying the ride. This chapter is one of my favourites. Hopefully you'll see why at the end. The mystery is going to deepen (but not without lots more sparky banter first!)
Here's Lauren...
Brother, My Brother
To say that the rest of the taping that night was hectic would probably have been offensive to genuinely hectic things. Like honey bees, or weddings, or children's birthday parties. Because the rest of the taping had been pretty much insane. Even by normal wrestling standards and ninety nine percent of which had been centred around Dean.
My husband had been like a literal man on fire. One minute chasing his brother into the parking lot, the next fighting Kane one on one in the ring and the next behind hauled off by a million security and shut in a broom closet.
No seriously.
Dean had been thrown into and then locked in a cupboard for trying to pretty much murder Seth backstage, which my evil bitch stepmother had — as usual — been the brains behind as she had stood and screamed orders.
"Put him in there."
Honestly I had spent the rest of the evening trying to figure out how to MacGyver him loose and the plan for which had involved a trusty bobby pin and then using my feminine wiles on the guards. In essence, I was going to be a female Danny Ocean. Or at least I would have been had Dean not got himself loose and then popped back up to wreak havoc on The Authority as John Cena had been lined up for some cinder blocks of his own. It had been totally cool of course, because my husband simply was cool, but one question remained —
"Dean, how did you get out?"
"Huh?" he frowned, looking back over his shoulder as we crossed the open parking lot of the only motel in town which still had a handful of rooms left available thanks some sort of cheerleading convention and a beauty pageant taking place at the same time.
"How did you get out of the cupboard," I clarified as I pulled my little bag up the small flight of steps and tried to stop it tipping off altogether into a flowerbed come ashtray, which was nice.
He grinned at me,
"Sorry Princess, m' not allowed to tell ya, because you see us magicians got like, a pretty solid rule about not tellin' the audience how we pull the disappearin' act. I mean, that kinda shit can basically ruin the whole show, an' I think you get taken to magic court or somethin'," winking he pulled on the creaky lobby door and then let me in ahead of him as I rolled my brown eyes up,
"Hmm. Nice try mister but you are not a magician."
"How 'bout in the bedroom?"
"Dean."
He wiggled his brows and I bit on my lip to hold back a giggle as a woman at the reception desk in front of us looked up and then blew out a sigh and put down her novel, which was a copy of Little Woman that looked super well thumbed and also had a bunch of screwed up tissues scattered round it which she pushed off the counter.
I smiled at her,
"I know, I feel the same way when I get to the part where Beth dies."
Her face fell a mile,
"What?"
"When Beth dies," I chirped back, but this time punctuating the words super carefully and even pointing at the book in case she thought I was insane. Which evidently she did, but for very different reasons.
"I started it an hour ago. I've read twelve pages."
If looks could have killed then I would have been a blood smear, which actually the carpet already had plenty of. Plus several large dried stains of unknown color which could have been anything from vomit to snot, or possibly something from lower down and less pleasant. Little wonder the place still had so many rooms left. Gaping in horror I gestured loosely towards the Kleenex.
"But I saw all the tissues and — ,"
"I have a cold."
"Oh."
To make matters worse the woman then sneezed violently and groped for one of the wadded up balls, which she stuffed up her nose still muttering darkly.
"So much for joining a book group."
I winced,
"Look, I really am sorry about the Beth thing. I mean, I love reading so I know how rough that was. Because if someone had told me when I was reading The Great Gatsby that Jay gets murdered for no reason at all, then I probably would have never even bothered to finish it, so I totally understand."
There. All fixed.
The receptionist blinked back at me and then made a squeak noise, like a tea kettle super close to boiling over on the hob.
"The Great Gatsby?"
"Um — ,"
"That was next on the reading list."
She was about two seconds from throwing us out of there — or else possibly re-creating a literary killing of her own — but luckily at that point Dean clamped my mouth shut, before I could ruin the death of Lenny in Of Mice and Men, or possibly even poor old Ginger from Black Beauty. The receptionist blinked momentarily at the movement but then clapped her eyes on my husband at last and the adorable little smirk which he reserved for sweet talking and basically being an irresistible ham.
He glanced at her nametag,
"Well hey there Linda. Dann, did anyone told you how good you look tonight? No, I'm serious. Did you get a new haircut? Put a little schmutz on it? Style it all nice? Because whatever you did it is workin' for you girl."
Linda giggled,
"Well, I did use my rollers."
Dean snapped his fingers at her,
"Did I know or did I know?" then he leaned in over the desktop towards her like he was maybe about to pass state secrets on and she copied him instantly like putty in his fingers, "Linda, sweet cheeks, m' gonna level with you here, because me an' my girl, we really need someplace to stay tonight, an' I think you might be the woman to help. So what d' ya say Doll?"
She clucked her tongue at him,
"Well, okay then, maybe this once. But consider yourselves lucky because this is our last room," she hooked up a key and then pushed it across the desk at us, as I smiled and tried to make up for the Beth thing. Oh and possibly The Great Gatsby thing too.
"Thank you so much for squeezing us in Linda and I really am sorry about the book mix up earlier on. Well, mix ups plural I should probably call it, but I'm just glad we can all move on."
By which I meant I hoped we could, although when I looked up cheerfully I found Linda staring actual murderous daggers back, since obviously some mistakes were not worth forgiving. Did it seriously count for nothing I had been trying to be nice? Dean turned towards me picking up on the tension and then prodded me in the direction of the elevator. It smelt like pee and —
Wait a second. Was that was what the weird carpet stains were?
My husband coughed,
"How 'bout you go find the room huh? Like, make sure housekeepin' is done an' all that jazz, an' I can finish up all the paperwork down here an' then drag all our crap up there when I'm done."
"Um, is that your not so subtle way of saying my crap?"
"Do I travel with hair straighteners?"
"No but you should."
Reaching up I ruffled his hair super teasingly, which was still all damp and sort of slickened from the show but which was starting to dry in cute touselly patches that sort of make him look like he was fresh out of bed. Or possibly fresh out of the sports arena closet, but which still looked adorable no matter where it was from. Smirking in response he caught my wrist lightly then leaned in to give me a sweet little kiss, which I accepted before rocking back onto my boot heels to look at him.
"Is it me or did she overreact about the Beth thing? Because I'm pretty sure they even mentioned it on Friends this one time and it's not like I told her anything crucial, like the part where Teddy and Amy getting married."
"They what?"
Linda popped up from behind the desk and oh come on. How in the world was her hearing that good and besides, was she not supposed to be full of cold or something? Had it been too much to expect that her ears had been clogged up?
Dean shoved a key at me,
"Make a break for it Princess."
"Yep, good idea."
I hit the elevator at a run and then stabbed at the panel with the bottom of my blouse hem, since it looked kind of sticky and generally unclean. In fact, that was the feel of the motel entirely, which I was pretty sure I had missed on the initial Yelp reviews and so I stood ramrod straight as the metal doors slid shut on me, desperately trying not to touch anything, in case I picked up an errant spore of syphilis or a blob of hepatitis on the way up to our floor. Back at the desk I heard Dean resume his smooth talk, with lashings of sweet cheeks and a Romanesque baby doll. I missed him already, which I knew was pathetic but I had never before been so totally in love, or even in love since Andy barely counted. Andy. I wondered how he and his new beau were then let out a curse as the elevator halted one floor below my stop. I flung my arms out and was still in a half crouched ninja position trying not to grab the rails when the doors opened up.
Someone snorted roughly,
"Oh you gotta be kidding me?"
Their voice sounded sharp and irritatingly nasal and dropped right into the pit of my gut. Because yep, sure enough when I glanced hurriedly upwards, there was Seth Rollins in his crappy black suit.
I balled up my fists.
Ugh.
"What are you doing here?"
"It's a motel Lauren. What do you think?"
He went to step in past me so I blocked the door stubbornly which — horrifically — meant touching the germy walls.
Ick.
I shook my head,
"Nope, I've got bad news for you scumbag, because it looks to me like this elevator is full and besides which I think they run a no weasel policy, so maybe you should consider just taking the stairs instead?"
In response to my smugness — which was admittedly pretty awesome — my turncoat former brother simply levelled back a glare and then pointed to the doors I was currently bracing and which were trying to shut on me and whisk me away. If I let go of them then Seth could totally have slipped past me, but if I kept up my blocking, then neither one of was going to go anywhere and besides which, my arms hurt.
Rollins smirked back at me.
"How long do you think you can keep that pose up for?"
"As long as it takes."
He rolled his eyes,
"Fine."
Then suddenly he shot out a hand as if to hit me, which I flinched at bodily, expecting the worse, but instead bony fingers sort of poked at my ribcage and in response I bit out a ticklish scream and then dropped my hands. Seth was past me like a gunshot.
"Damn it Seth, get out of here."
I stamped my foot then pointed towards the doorway and in response he leaned back then started tapping at his phone,
"Heh, you know what? I think I'll stick where I am thanks."
God he was an asshole.
Ding.
The doors pinged behind us and then slowly started to inch their way shut and so I threw myself at them and then tried to wrench them open, which then worked super well for me.
"No, no, no — ,"
Yep.
They shut.
Blowing a breath out I slumped back against the handrail then remembered the potential herpes and launched suddenly back up, frantically trying to swipe off the molecules that I imagined were clinging to me or burrowing in through my threads. Seth snorted at me but kept his eyes on his cell phone.
"Gotta say Lauren I'm surprised to see you here. I mean, I thought Ambrose liked to keep you close twenty four seven, you know what with all the kidnappings and everything. Oh and also that whole fear of abandonment thing he has."
I gaped at the low blow.
"Uh, for your information my ass kicking husband is down in the lobby sweet talking the clerk, because unlike you he knows how to treat people. Including backstabbing traitors like you. So if I were you Seth, I would get out on the next floor and then run for your life before he finds out you're here and beats you down for the fourth time this evening."
Seth snorted,
"Please, I'm not scared of Ambrose."
"So is that why you literally hijacked a car earlier when you were running around backstage running for your life to get away? Because you certainly looked scared."
"It was two on one Lauren."
I blinked at him,
"Ohhh. I get it, okay. So kind of like when you and Kane ganged up on Dean then and stomped his head through that stack of cinder blocks? Did I thank you for that by the way? Because honestly, I had so much fun locking the doors and windows because Dean couldn't really remember who he was, or where he lived, or even what day it was? So really Seth, thanks," I shot him a super sarcastic double thumbs up and then loaded the gesture with as much snark as I could muster, which earned me a patented evil Rollins sneer,
"I told you to keep him away from me Lauren."
"I hate everything about you."
"Yeah well, ditto."
God we were kids and in a weird way it felt a little like the way things had been, back when the three of us had been out on the road and Seth and I had spent the whole time sort of sniping. When we weren't busy playing the yellow car game. Sometimes I really missed cheerfully punching him.
Punch him.
Oooh now there was a thought.
Curling my fist up, I readied to hit him, going through the steps Dean had taught me in my head and then preparing to haul ass the second the doors open, but instead my cell phone buzzed and put me off.
Incoming text.
Stop ignoring me Lauren.
"No," I shouted at the screen in distress, before dropping it in horror like the thing had turned red hot, which sent it down onto the floor with a clatter, "Damn it no. How? How are you doing this, I blocked you remember. Leave me alone psycho."
"Lauren? Hey, what the hell is going on here?" Seth barked, snapping his fingers in my face, since clearly my ranting at an inanimate object was spooking him slightly. But wait a second, did he look concerned? He held his hands up still holding his cell phone.
His cell phone.
The one he had been texting on.
"You."
Pretty much before I even knew what was happening, I had crossed the space towards him in one super pissed stride, which sounds kind of cool, but then, we were in an elevator so one stride was all it took.
Focus for goodness sakes.
In response to my look of unmitigated fury — or possible constipation, since it probably looked like that— Seth skittered backwards so that he bumped into the railing and in the confusion or my breakdown or whatever it was, I was able to swipe the cell out of his finger and then hold it up between us with the text he had been writing still flashing on the screen,
"Is this all one big sick twisted joke to you? Trying to kill my husband and tormenting me with texts? Because I get that the four of us are enemies now or whatever, but even for you this is pretty low Seth."
He blinked at me,
"What is?"
"This."
I waggled his cell phone and only then bothered to look at the thing and the fact that the recipient was clearly his mother and the fact that the message was all about the show and how he and Dean were still best buddies, which was certainly news to me.
"Hey, give me that," leaning in frantically he swiped it back from me and then hustled it down into the pocket of his slacks, before frowning at me as I blushed a minor storm up, "Going round grabbing peoples' cell phones like that. You and that lunatic of yours deserve each other and why in the hell do you keep talking about texts?"
I shook my head at him but stayed otherwise silent and in the pause we both peered as one towards my phone, which was still sitting sadly on the super germy gratings, probably ruining the personalized cover I had bought which had a picture of my puppy looking super cute on it. Seth looked at me and I blinked then looked back. I could see the cogs in his mind starting to gyrate but moved too slowly to beat him to the punch as he launched towards the ground and scooped it up.
I shrieked at him,
"Seth no. I order you not to read those."
But yeah, not even I had been expecting that to work and nor did it since he simply put a weasel or palm out and put it on my head to hold me off as I tried to snatch it back. God it really was like old times after all. Although his face fell pretty rapidly when he got to the messages, which surprised him enough that I could snatch my phone.
Ha.
He gaped in bewilderment,
"Jesus Christ Lauren. Have you — have you told anyone about this? And by anyone I'm talking about the cops, since I'm guessing that your god damn lunatic husband is already in the loop."
I winced,
"About that — ,"
"Hold up a second here. Do you mean to tell me you haven't told Dean?" I blinked in response to his look of incredulity, purely for his unnoticed slip up at the end, because honestly it had been months since he'd used anything but Ambrose and it solidified a theory I had been holding for a while, "Why in the hell would you not tell your husband? Because I'm pretty sure that this is kind of something he needs to know. God why do you always make everything so difficult?"
My mouth fell open,
Me?
"Seth, unless you forgot, my husband is currently in a beef with my birth father, who — by the way has a new thing for locking him up — and oh yeah, is kind of hellbent on murdering the brother who tried to obliterate his skull a month back. So forgive me for thinking that he might be preoccupied."
"Murdering his former brother."
"Is this you trying to help? Because honestly, if it is then you kind of suck at it. I mean even Bray Wyatt helps better than you do and he happens to be insane."
"Damn, alright," Seth held his hands up like he was facing down a grizzly but with a little more sass. Well, from him at least, "Kinda missing the point here idiot, because what I was saying was that you need to tell Dean, since if my wife was being stalked then I would totally want a heads up."
I spluttered in levels of horror,
"Did you say stalked?"
"Uh huh, of course. Why? What would you call it?"
"Um, my evil bitch stepmother trying to ruin my life?"
"Wait, do you — do you think Steph did this?"
He blinked at me a few times then threw his head back and laughed, which naturally did wonders for my levels of confidence and my general assumption. Because, he would know, right? Since he was basically the McMahon Helmsley Labrador or something and so if anyone had the inside scoop it was him. Although first I had to wait for him to stop snorting at me.
Loved that part.
"Lauren, hey trust me this is not your stepmother."
"Well then maybe she told Randy to — ,"
"Nope," Seth stopped me with a pop, before pulling a face like he expected better from me. Although, in my defence, my head was in a whirl, "Think about it Lauren, this is the Authority we're talking here. This is freaking Stephanie McMahon. A woman who tried to run you over with a big rig your first month with us and who then had you drugged and locked up for five days and you seriously think her latest scheme is text messages? I mean what is she now, a god damn fifteen year old girl?"
Fine so he had a point. But then again did he? Because maybe that was precisely what Steph wanted me to think and besides, look who was playing the good little messenger.
"Do you really think I would trust a single word you ever said to me?"
"Why would I lie?"
"Ugh," I threw my hands up and then let out a groan which had been building since summer. Or pretty much from the moment he had visited me in the hospital hours after having whacked my head with a chair and which was also when he told me he no longer cared about us, "Why would you have done anything you've done recently? Like turning your back on us, trying to kill my husband, stepping in and saving me from getting married to Randy — ,"
"What?"
"I said getting married to Randy," I repeated, or, okay maybe more like bellowed in his ear so that he flapped his hand and then batted me backwards,
"Damn it Lauren. What I meant was where did you get that part of things from? Because no way in hell was I trying to save you. No one in the world has enough time to come save you from all the crazy shit and situations you get in. I swear you need a full time minder or something, or an internal GPS to stop you wandering off."
I blinked in confusion,
"But, you swung up the briefcase and stopped the pastor from saying we were husband and wife."
"For my title shot Lauren," Seth fired back hotly and with more of a sneer than I had heard him use all night, which included on the show when he had been shouting pretty loftily and barking at security to lock for my husband up, "I was trying to protect my run at the top. This is my time Lauren, my time to be the big man and so the last thing I needed was your family drama screwing that up."
"So you weren't trying to protect me?"
"Nope. Just my title shot.
To be honest his response kind of crushed me. A lot, which must have shown on my face since he blinked at me and then let out a frustrated sounding huff before stabbing at the panel to try and hurry the ride up. For a very brief moment when he'd been looking at the messages and urging me to tell Dean what was going on, he had seemed like, well Seth. Or at least the Seth he had been. But either way though, he had cared about me and the memory of that made me suddenly stubborn. Turning around I lit up all the buttons and then watched as his jaw hit the icky floor in shock, like an old time cartoon but without the slide whistle.
Dean would have got the reference. He loved his cartoons.
"Damn it woman. Have you gone completely psychotic?"
"Want to know what I think?"
Seth narrowed his eyes,
"I mean, at this point would it even matter if I said no?"
"I think," I continued, which answered his question and made it a two birds one stone kind of a deal. He blew out a breath and rolled his eyes in long suffering which made me talk louder, "I think you still care, which is why you were sending that text to your mom earlier about how you and Dean are still friends in real life. Because you wish it was true and you hate that it isn't. Oooh which is probably why you stomped on Dean too, because pretty much literally trying to murder him is a hell of a lot easier than admitting you screwed up."
God I felt like Poirot or something. Or someone less cerebral, like Jessica Fletcher perhaps? Because she did have better hair relatively speaking and besides, who didn't love Murder She Wrote?
"Lauren."
"I'm right aren't I?"
Seth moved a little closer, but sort of too close so I was forced to skitter back and bump spine first into the finger marked handrail which was actually sticky. He was wearing his sneer, the one he saved for beatings and television tapings and honestly it made my blood kind of run cold, because this was new Seth.
I didn't know new Seth.
Beneath us the elevator bobbed unhappily and then finally stopped, although god knew on which floor, thanks to me having stabbed the panel to buy time back, which had seemed like a brilliant idea back then. The doors pinged above us then grated open noisily, but all I could focus on was Seth blocking my path and leaning so close that we were practically chin to nose tip.
"Lauren, go tell your damn husband about those messages and then keep his crazy ass the hell away from me. Because the next time I curb stomp his head into something, I'm going to make sure he never gets up again,"
Then he sauntered straight out of the elevator and off down the hallway as casual as you like, leaving me behind him feeling anxious and shell shocked.
Me, being stalked?
Not a chance in hell.
Right?
Aww, I kind of loved having Seth back. But don't worry, he'll pop up again and in the next Lauren and Dean story too, because trust me, I have plans for our evil boy in this series!
Next chapter Dean and Lauren spend some quality time together...wink wink...and Lauren tries to tell Dean what is happening.
Until then.