There it is, the WrestleMania day. The big day for everyone involved. And of course it's also a big day for Dean Ambrose and William Regal and their story. Hope you enjoy reading.


"Alright, guys, ready when you are. Just have a regular conversation about that ladder match, kinda, you know, villain style or something. Just some random stuff. You know whatta mean, right?"

William Regal and Dean Ambrose indeed pretty much knew what this snob of a director wanted from them. Both men had gotten calls early this morning about some changes for the WrestleMania backstage filming. Not that changes were somewhat surprising. It would have been surprising if there wouldn't have been any changes at all. But the timing of the calls had been quite irritating for both of them. The first one arrived on Dean's cell phone at about seven o'clock. He'd just found a real comfortable position on William's chest to doze into the new day when this stupid phone call sound woke him up. William had been already awake for quite some time back then and was rather amused by the grumpiness of the young man after he'd ended the call.

"They want us doing some chat or something. At the arena at half past one. And they are calling me now! I mean, what the fuck? Just wait until like nine, man! Dammit", Dean had mumbled but emphasizing the strong vocabulary. And William had just smiled and shut him up with a kiss. That grew into something that could have lead to lazy morning sex. But all of a sudden William got his phone call to receive basically the same information.

"Well, they couldn't have known that I know already", William had sighed after he had ended the call. Dean had been pissed all over again about the interruption and had claimed that he needed a shower. And before William had been able to at least try to convince him otherwise, he was left alone in his hotel bed.

And he just couldn't think of anything he apparently did wrong to get such a reaction by Dean. Sometimes the young man really was a strange fellow. He had been calmed down when he had made his way back from the shower. But he went straight for his clothes, so William knew that he couldn't expect a few more minutes of slowly relaxing together into the day.

And both men had been busy with other stuff until now. William had been met up with a few guys from NXT to discuss a few things for future shows. And Dean had a bit other filming to do in the arena. Both men had just met again at half past twelve for their specific segment to be filmed. And most likely Dean arriving to this meeting without a shirt on was his way to apologize to William without having to express an actual apology.

William tried to stay calm. He tried not to let show that he enjoyed the sight a little too much to be banned on camera. But when the overenthusiastic director shouted out, "Action!", and it now was on William and Dean to say something about ladders, William still tried to detract from Dean's upper body.

"I'm just like sitting there, staring on the ceiling and just thinking about jabbing people with ladders and..." Dean started with a picture of himself in his mind, trying to tell something he still hadn't any idea about.

"I was in that ladder match when... when...", William tried to interrupt because he could sense that Dean was on a road to nowhere but the younger man just went on.

"... crossface, chicken, ladder...", he listed a few steps that would eventually lead to his opponent ending up in pain. But that was all he was able to come up with right now, so William saw his chance to continue his little story.

"Yeah, actually, that was one of my favourite things that I've – as far as inflicting pain on somebody – on Paul London once, and I put him in a chickenwing and then suplexed him on top of a ladder...", William told the younger man, still slightly muddled about Dean's shades he was still wearing.

Dean mumbled, "Yeah, yeah..." to William's story and the older man was simply unable to guess his mood he might have been in right now. Unable to read in his eyes. So William went for a bit of sadistic humour to get something back from the younger man.

"And just the... just the feeling his body growing completely limp..." William said and laughed at Dean, now remembering just too well about this specific ladder match he had competed in. A physical match when he'd been in his prime – whatever that meant in his case. But thinking about this right now, he missed competing, he missed the physicality, he missed the hate from the audience. And all of a sudden this thinking process from yesterday made it back into his mind. And Dean's appearance somehow made sense in a quite different way now. No shirt so he could attract some young people all around the arena; shades so he didn't have to look at William all the time.

And William just thought that sadistic humour could hide his inner turmoil. Somehow the director liked that. He called to stop the current scene and told both Dean and William that they should go on with this subject, just with a bit more variation, not too much depth but something similar sadistic and they should show their excitement for it.

"I like to crunch..." Dean continued for some reason after the director had called for action again. It sounded like a really simple statement, like he'd just said he liked the warmth of the dawning sun.

And William instantly liked the direction. "The crunching, yeah..." he said, still thinking about past matches and that he very likely wouldn't have another match in his career. Once again a too depressing thought. So he laughed to shake this off and listened to Dean continuing his own thought.

"... of like suplex on a ladder, you feel like..." Dean was trying to find another word for it to mix in some variety like the director obviously liked. He hit his right fist into his left hand to make it clear what exactly he meant with "crunch". But he couldn't come up with another word. Crunch was just too perfect to describe this move. So, Dean just said, "... crunch!" again to use it as an exclamation mark this time.

"Crunch, yeah," William replied, just encouraging Dean to continue. And somehow the young man now was in his element.

"It's not the big high thing that the people like," Dean said and enthusiastically demonstrated how to climb a ladder. "I like the crunch and the..." he then continued, hits his fist in hand once again and made a sound to illustrate the badass way he likes to crunch some opponents. "... and... you know?" he then finished. At least that's what William thought, so he could give his own opinions on the crunching thing.

"The thing is..." William started.

But Dean mumbled, "That's so bad," still somehow enjoying this picture in his own mind about him crunching some people.

"You wanna get... you wanna get use all that steel..." William tried to continue through the younger man mumbling and moving and staring through glasses with his eyes William was unable to see. He wanted to add some eloquent thoughts, a bit of slightly deep philosophy of pain but then was interrupted by Dean once again.

"It's so cruel for me – I love it so much," Dean said, rubbing his hands against each other and looking really proud of himself.

"Yeah, because that's what it is, right?" William somehow gave up his effort to make this a real conversation. But he still wanted to give this a fitting punchline. Usually William needed far longer for this than just two minutes or so. But this wasn't meant to be a twenty-minute interview, so he went for, "'Cause you know there's no way for them to go. It's just crunch."

And that was it. Shortly after the director blasted out loud "Cut!" and everyone in the background relaxed. The director quickly told Dean and William that they were done. Narrow schedule and all he then instructed his three assistants to grab all their stuff. And one moment later Dean watched this strange entourage go and slightly felt for the cable guy who seemed just a bit too small for this job.

But Dean wasn't able to think any longer about this guy because all of a sudden he felt grabbed from behind and pushed into a darker corner. Then he found himself back against the wall, William standing right in front of him, his right arm fixing him there right under his chin. And with his right hand William took off Dean's sunglasses.

"That's much better," William told the younger man after he'd noticed that he had been surprised enough to make any sudden movements. The surprise reflected in his eyes. Apparently he had no idea why William acted in such a way. But somehow the older man wasn't much for games right now, so he continued to clear up Dean's mind.

"So, was there any need to hide yourself from me? You know that it's pretty much uncomfortable for me to talk to sunglasses instead of you. Not to mention that it's pretty much rude and uncivilized from you not to take them down during that... chit-chat... or whatever that has been," William said. And just to add some logic to it, he finished his little rant with, "You know there is no sun over here. You don't need this thing covering your eyes anyway."

"Well, I look cool with these shades on, so I needed them. Plus, no-one has noticed that I'd been looking at your erection the whole time," Dean said and only added a smirk when William loosened his grip to the younger man to have a look down himself.

"I don't have an erection, boy!" William protested when he caught back Dean's eyes with his own.

"Yes, you have, old man. Didn't expect this from ya, I mean, in your age..." Dean replied now with an even bigger smirk in his face that left William puzzled.

"So you want to play again, don't you?" he asked when he found back his voice. Clearly not in the mood to play. Actually he had no idea what mood he was in at the moment. He simply found this situation quite strange to begin with.

But somehow Dean finally noticed that William was hurt for real. The older man clearly had no ambition to win just another game. Or hadn't he? Suddenly Dean had to think back to their latest days. The messaging game while he was in the desert. Or wasn't it a game? The phoning game, William winding him up with this monkey. Or was this some kind of allegory because William was just unable to say directly what he wanted? And then the sex. They hadn't fucked. That had been something else. And maybe this hadn't been a game as well?

Was it possible that both of them felt the same but both of them just weren't able to talk about it? It's definitely easier to call this a game than being serious. And Dean definitely wasn't the guy who all of a sudden would just start being serious about whatever it was they shared. He moved closer to the older man, smiling.

"There's nothing wrong with a well played game, old man," he finally whispered. His hands moving down to William's belt, ready to open it. But while he kept eye contact, Dean felt his own movement stopped by the other man's hands.

"Not here, Dean, not now. Unless you really want to embarrass the two of us being caught in the act. Even you should know that this isn't the right place for something you have in mind here," William said in his soft voice, his thumbs slightly stroking the skin of Dean's hands. But he didn't really know why he was doing that. And Dean had even less of an idea.

The younger man stepped back from the other man, just as much to have a better view on all of his facial and body expressions.

"So you don't want to make up for a wasted morning?" Dean finally asked and sounded legitimately disappointed.

And William just couldn't believe what he just had to listen to. He shook his head and let out a slight chuckle.

"You really want to make me responsible for what happened this morning? Or rather what not happened this morning?" the older man asked. "Listen, Dean, I don't want to argue with you about that. You've got an important match tonight. Get that IC belt and tonight we've got plenty of time to talk, alright, dear boy?" he finally smiled at the young man and hoped for a similar reaction.

For days already William felt that some serious talk between them was immanent. But this backstage area in the WrestleMania arena of San Francisco really wasn't the right place or time. Dean needed to have a fresh mind, not filled up with too many thoughts. William wanted for Dean to have his WrestleMania moment and this was only possible if the young man was completely focussed on this ladder match.

But Dean didn't understand. He already thought that he was focussed enough. Truth was that he only needed to be focussed the very moment the first bell rang. What he needed now was just a little distraction from his thoughts about the match. And the only thing he wanted to see was that William didn't want to give it to him.

Somehow William still had his shades in hand. So Dean finally reached for it to cover his eyes again. He shot the older man a look that William wasn't able to notice and mumbled a, "see ya then", and off he was. William wasn't even able to ask if they should at least have lunch together.

– – – –

"I guess I messed up again, Robbie", William said to his plate between two bites of delicious tuna salad. Apart from a rather short call to ask Robbie if he would enjoy lunch with him and an even shorter greeting when they had met in a little restaurant outside of the arena, William had been silently thoughtful the whole time.

"What happened?" his friend asked. "Have you finally spoken with him?"

"Not quite. I mean, I wanted to but it wasn't the right time. I didn't want to speak with him before his match," William said, still telling this the dead tuna salad in front of him than to his friend.

"But there will be always a next match, William," Robbie said. He had already finished his gnocchi and just ordered an espresso for himself. "And what do you mean with, not quite?"

"Well, I have spoken with him but not quite about this subject. Like I said, I just didn't want to bother him with something like that before his important match. And anyway, I think he's already moving forward," William said and only the sad expression upon his face stopped Robbie from letting out a light chuckle.

"It's William-talks-in-riddles-day today, isn't it, old boy?" Robbie insinuated instead, smiling when the younger man finally had the decency to look at him.

"It wasn't meant to be a riddle. I just... I mean... I can sense that he's just fed up or bored or something like that. I mean, just today he walked off twice and left me there without any greeting or word when we might meet up again. Just doesn't seem to me that he cares much about me. So, why should I bother either?" William tried to unravel the riddle for his friend but it seemed that he didn't understand his own thoughts.

And Robbie was just shaking his head, then touching the other man's hand to show him some sympathy.

"Oh, dear, William. You're really lost, aren't you? What has the boy done to you? Alright, you know what? I command you to talk with him right after his match, okay?" Robbie said now back to full seriousness.

"But maybe he'll have won this belt by then and won't have time for me anyway," William replied in a very strange attempt to make Robbie take back his command.

"Alright, William, I'm telling you something – as a friend. You're completely crazy. And you know it. I've seen you together for a couple of times now and I'm telling you that he's only waiting for you to ask him. You know him. He won't take this step. You need to take it first. And he will happily follow. Believe me. He wants you. He ain't going nowhere... well, unless you're waiting too long. So, just talk to him tonight and everything will be fine," Robbie said and it sounded definitive enough for William to know that his friend won't peg away.

So he just nodded now and finished his tuna salad. After all, thinking about something for too long makes this something more terrible than it actually is in the end. Robbie certainly was right. Dean perhaps only waited for him to make this first step.

– – – –

William was close to despair. He could swear that he didn't go this hallway for the very first time now. He had already asked a few people and all of them had pointed in different directions. But somehow the last guy had been right. Because right behind the next corner he was able to look into the room that was used as a treatment room. The door was opened. And William was able to see Dean sitting on a treatment table while the doctor was standing behind him and a cameraman right in front of him.

Still a bit breathless William waited patiently outside the room. They filmed him, so it couldn't be that worse. Not that worse as it looked on the TV screen when Dean had crashed head first on that ladder. And from the few pictures he had seen from him after the fall, William knew that the young man was legitimately injured.

He was deeply relieved that Dean seemed to be doing okay in physical terms. But there was still that loss. Dean Ambrose didn't get the Intercontinental Championship title. He wasn't able to show him this belt, William had also worn with pride some years ago. He didn't have his WrestleMania moment – he just lost again in an important match. Right now he probably felt like he was destined to be a loser all his life. Like it had been written all over the streets of Cincinnati from the day he was born.

And William hated the thought that Dean could think this way right now.

The cameraman left first. And then also the doctor left the room. That was the moment when William entered and found the young man still sitting on that treatment table.

William got himself a chair and sat right in front of Dean. For a second he considered taking his hands in his but then he didn't go for it. Dean would have shook them off very likely.

"You will get another chance, Dean," William finally tried to lighten the boy's mood. "There will be a time, when you will be rewarded for everything you put yourself into. I know that you can do that. And I know that you will be on top of that mountain someday."

All the time the was talking to him, William tried to get eye contact with Dean. But the young man was only staring on his own hands that both rested between his legs on the table.

"I know it's frustrating for you right now," William tried again to get some words out of Dean, so he would know about the state he was in. "I can help you if you want to. I can speak to a few people with influence and get you another title match. What do you think, Dean? I know you're frustrated right now but..."

William wasn't able to speak any further because he finally got eye contact with Dean. But these eyes were full of anger and disillusion.

"Twelve staples!" the young man blasted out. "Twelve staples are my price for everything I put in tonight. Quite fitting for a loser like me, right? And ya telling me that ya want to help me! Don't make me laugh, Regal. You could've helped me already. All the times I was beaten up by several guys and ya were waiting backstage and did nothing. But ya know what? I'm better off without ya. All these last days were just a waste of time. I could have trained harder, be more focussed. But instead I wasted my time with talking to ya."

Dean finally got up from the table. And right now the only emotion William saw in his eyes was anger about him.

"Just leave me alone from now on. And don't try to help me. God, ya can't even help yourself. How would ya been able to help me anyway?" Dean added and every single word was like a stab right into William's heart.

It took him a couple of minutes to gather himself back. And long after Dean had left the room, William got up from his chair to take the long way back to his hotel room.


One day is still left to this story. Until it's published here, you can write me your reviews, opinions and suggestions. Hope you liked it dispite the horrible finish / cliffhanger.