Monday was a miserable day of travel on a cramped charter bus that smelled like shit and British convenience store food, over the crappiest roads. Seth couldn't handle it. He was terrified he'd need to throw up, and there wasn't a restroom on the bus. Then, one of the ladies spilled nail polish, and the fumes gave him a headache, too. Miserable, he tried to doze, his left cheek against the cool glass window, raindrops on the other side, but it was impossible with the bumps, and Dean's fidgeting. He learned Dean could get pretty cranky when he needed a piss break. The bus stopped every two to three hours for that, but due to the amount of coffee Dean had had, he was complaining before every stop.

The last stop before their destination had a fish and chips stand, and many people lined up there. Seth didn't, the smell alone was increasing his nausea. He went into the convenience store, and bought Sprite, water, a banana, and a bag of almonds. He sat down at a little table still filthy with previous diners' crumbs, and started with the Sprite.

"Hey, Seth, can I join you?" It was Sasha, with a limp-looking prepackaged salad, and a bottle of tea.

Seth managed a small smile. "Saddle up, buckaroo."

Sasha laughed, but when she sat down across from him, her face crinkled in concern. "Are you feeling okay? You look kind of pale."

Seth shook his head. "No," he admitted. "I've felt like throwing up ever since I got on the bus. Then, after someone spilled nail polish, I got a headache from the fumes."

Sasha looked down, guilty. "That was me. I'm so sorry, Seth."

"It's all good, accidents happen. Though I don't know what possessed you to try painting your nails on a road like that."

"Tamina was painting Naomi's nails; I was just holding the bottle."

"Butterfingers," Seth teased, to show her he wasn't mad. "Can you watch my stuff? I should see what they have for medicine here."

Sasha began digging in her purse. "I can hook you up. I have Excedrin and Tums."

"Both, please."

"Poor Seth." Sasha patted his arm, and slid the bottles across the table.

Other people began drifting towards the table, and most of them had fish and chips. The odor did nothing to whet Seth's appetite, he had to force himself to eat and drink. He had to be in two house shows tonight, if he didn't get some nourishment, he'd pass out.

Many of his coworkers brought their fish and chips on board the bus, and after about twenty minutes, Seth could no longer convince his stomach not to expel it's contents. His mouth was watering. He grabbed the first plastic bag he saw, and dumped out the contents, to the protests of its owner, which he barely heard, because he was already gagging, retching, spewing out everything he'd managed to eat and drink at that last stop. The spasms and effort made his already-sore body ache even more, and he saw through his tears that he'd missed the bag at first, there was a splash of puke on the back of the seat in front of him, dripping on the floor, and even some on his pants and shoes. It smelled terrible. Seth was humiliated, the only comfort he could take in it was that it didn't happen from the other end.

Dean rubbed his shoulders, and gathered more plastic bags and napkins to help him dispose of the puke. Soon, people were handing them hand wipes, Kleenex, gum, water, even a bottle of mouthwash. Seth felt surrounded with care. Even though the bus smelled worse now because of him, no one resented him for it. He cleaned himself and the mess he'd made as well as he could, and thanked everyone for their items as he passed them back to their owners. He felt better than he had all day, but Dean, who kept a protective arm around his shoulders, looked concerned nonetheless.

Once they arrived at the arena, Dean voiced his concern during the meeting before the show, and he just came right out and said it: "Seth's sick." Those who'd ridden on the bus with him quickly backed that up. Stephanie glared angrily at Seth, furious that the champion would get sick during the tour.

"I think I just got carsick. I feel fine now," he told her. And, it was true. Once he'd gotten off the bus, and into the open air, he'd felt great.

"Good, because you'd better be at your best tonight, Seth, or-"

"Or what?" Seth challenged, enjoying the open-mouth-insert-foot expression on his boss' face.

Stephanie gave him a hateful look, and handed him his itinerary. "This is the first time we've been to this arena, and we promised you on the card. As of now, you're not booked in a match for the next show, but you have to be there to do the opening promo." She turned her attention to everyone else. "Everyone who's in the second show tonight, listen up. The bus to take you to to the arena leaves right after Seth and Kane's match, the minute Seth gets on, it leaves, so be on it. The bus won't be stopping, so make sure you have something to eat before you get on board, there will be some pizza and sandwiches in the back here after the show starts. Don't bother changing out of your ring attire, just throw some sweats on, Tap Out ones, preferably. If you're not in the second show, the bus to the airport leaves at eight, from here."

Traveling without Dean, who wasn't in the second show, on board another chartered bus, was an abysmal thing. They had said their hasty goodbyes in the locker room, as Seth pulled a black Tap Out sweatsuit over his ring attire, and ate as much pepperoni pizza as he could given the time he had. There had been no time to be sad about it, but now, alone, on a cold autumn evening, heartache was setting in. At least the bus was much nicer. It was newer, the windows opened, and there was even a restroom, should he need to throw up, he'd be able to do it privately and properly, but he didn't think that would happen again. Aside from missing Dean, he was feeling good. Well, except for his knee. He stretched his leg out on the empty seat beside him, and played games on his phone, and told himself he was being silly, he would be reunited with Dean tomorrow, in Dublin. Dean had already reserved his room, and added Seth to the reservation, but by the time Seth arrived at the hotel, Dean would be long gone, he had a lot of public appearances to make before Tuesday's shows, and Seth had an interview on an Irish sports show.

The scheduling was so tight Seth barely had time to slip out of his sweats and wet down his hair before heading out to cut his promo. He'd wanted to wrap his knee, but instead he had to use it like was normal, when it clearly wasn't at this point. He hoped his grimaces of pain were hidden by his haughty sneer as he walked down to the ring, microphone in one hand, the other hand holding his title over his shoulder.

It was the worst job he'd done with a promo since Hunter and Stephanie had sent him out to do one on RAW with a full bladder. Only this time it wasn't his bladder that was distracting him, it was his knee. Rather than pacing back and forth somewhat frantically, he barely moved at all, and tried to put most of his weight on his left leg. He knew his lines, but the worry over his knee was clouding his acting skills, and he couldn't say his lines the way they needed to be said. The pain was constant now that he couldn't baby it, and worst of all, right after he finished the promo, he looked to the ramp, and saw Hunter standing off to the side, just staring at him coldly.

The lights went out, and in the cover of darkness, Seth limped to the back. He did not take the ramp. He slipped unnoticed into a janitor's closet, because he didn't think he could make it all the way to the locker room. He slid immediately to the floor, and childishly held his injured knee as the tears fell.

After recovering for a half an hour in the closet, Seth emerged and gritted his teeth to walk as normally to the locker room as he could manage. Oddly, no one else seemed to be around. Granted, not many guys were in this second show, but it was unlikely they'd all be the in the ring at the same time; maybe there was another buffet set up. But, it was his good luck, he could wrap his knee right here rather than in a toilet cubicle. He pulled down his leather and spandex pants and quickly would the bandage around. He pulled off his ring attire and underwear and pulled on his sweats, which still kind of smelled like pizza, with a faint hint of Dean's cologne. He was smelling the right shoulder of his hoodie when the door opened. It was Hunter.

"Seth, my pet, we need to talk-"

"No we don't," Seth said, quickly, and threw his ring attire into his bag, hoping Hunter couldn't sense his fear, but he didn't know how he couldn't. His hands were shaking, he was shaking all over, and his heart felt like it was beating harder and faster than a rabbit in an eagle's talons. The pain in his knee was near nothing now, and he felt a vague, warm rush just after he stood up to go.

Hunter moved to block his path. "Yes, we do," he said firmly.

"NO!" Seth shouted. "I never want to talk to you AGAIN!"

Hunter grabbed his shoulders. "Seth, lower your voice, now!"

"Don't you fucking touch me! You...sick...freak!" Seth pulled away from Hunter. "Go away! I hate you!"

"Shut the fuck up. You're such an ungrateful little shit. I gave you everything. I made you what you are today, and you best not forget that, stupid Seth."

"You made me your slave in every definition of the word. You made me your dog. You made me-"

"I made you piss yourself," Hunter declared triumphantly, cutting him off. He pointed to the puddle Seth was standing in, barefoot.

Seth realized the warm rush he'd felt after standing up had been his bladder letting go, from fear. He blushed, embarrassed, then angry. "You made me a rape victim! Get out of here and leave me alone, or I'm going to call my lawyer." He grabbed a random towel and threw it over his puddle.

"Rape victim? You? Oh, please, Seth, tell me how in the world that's possible. Don't forget how I found you, where you come from, and that you've always wanted to feel my cock deep inside that precious little ass of yours."

"That was five years ago, Cyberfights was even longer ago than that, and you know damn well that's not where you found me, it's what you found out about me, because god forbid any of your superstars should have worked in other promotions before working for WWE."

"That's what I made you into, Seth, a superstar. Not just any superstar, but my protege. I made you the very face of this company I dearly love, more than my wife, whose family owns it. I love you more than my wife, Seth."

Seth was appalled. "You love me? Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? That's your fucking idea of love?"

"You need discipline, Seth, a firm hand to keep you in check. I mean, look at what you just did all over the floor." Hunter pointed. "And you're just putting on your socks and shoes anyway, without washing yourself or changing your pants, what a shame."

"You're a shame. Now let me out of here, or I'm calling my lawyer."

"I'll bet you're going commando under your pissy pants, aren't you, Seth?"

"That's none of your fucking business. Get the fuck out of my way."

Hunter laughed, and didn't move. Instead, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned his cuffs. "Such a dirty, foul-mouthed boy. You need a shower, Seth."

Seth saw the bulge in Hunter's pants, and the lust in his eyes. No! Not again, this is not happening a second time! "Not with you I don't. I swear, Hunter, if you ever touch me again-"

The door swung open, and Seth abruptly shut up, and prayed it wouldn't be an ally of Hunter's. Fortunately, it was Enzo and Big Cass, and after talking to them for a bit, Hunter saw fit to depart. Seth had never been happier to see that duo in his entire life, and he collapsed back on the bench in relief once Enzo and Cass went to the showers.

But Enzo, who was sensitive to bullying and harassment, having experienced so much of it himself, had apparently picked up on the vibes, and was worried, because the small, tattooed man reappeared before Seth, wrapped in a towel. His baby blue eyes were full of sympathy.

"You know, it's pretty ironic that a company that touts its anti-bullying campaign has so many bullies within," Enzo mused. He put a small hand on Seth's shoulder. "Listen, Rollins. I know we ain't been that tight, but I can tell that something's going on with you, and if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here for you. Okay, man?"

Seth nodded. "I'm not ready to talk about it yet. But one day, I will be. I need to talk about it."

Enzo nodded, and squeezed his shoulder. "See you on the bus, alright?"

Seth nodded again, and Enzo turned to go back to the showers.

"Hey, Enzo? Thank you."

Enzo turned around and smiled. "It was good timing."