Author's Note: Here's the epilogue! Thanks to all who read and those who commented.

People pay for what they do, and still more, for what they have allowed themselves to become. And they pay for it simply: by the lives they lead. ~Edith Wharton

August 30, 2016- 12:15am

Dean flopped down on the bed in his hotel room, an overly loud whoosh of air escaping his lungs as he shifted his tired body into a more comfortable position. It had been a long week and he couldn't wait until it was over tomorrow night. There was a fridge full of beer, a couple bottles of Jack and his big, comfortable bed just calling his name. He grabbed his phone to check his messages and was a little surprised to see a few from people on the Raw side of the roster. All of them basically telling him that he had to see what happened during the fatal four-way for the Universal title.

A frown twisted his lips because he had no idea why they thought that he'd care about what happened on the show or that title. In his opinion, it was a joke and his belt was the only real world title in the company. They only came up with a new championship because the powers that be couldn't stand the notion of not having access to the WWE title anymore. Instead of the fruit roll-up everyone on the red brand was vying for, they should have just allowed him to defend the title on both brands and save themselves the embarrassment. Not that he really wanted to be on Raw if he didn't have to because he was more than happy on SmackDown, far away from the tyranny of Stephanie McMahon and the naiveté of Mick Foley.

His narrowed eyes landed on the name of a buddy of his that wasn't in the business. Really didn't even watch wrestling. So the brief snippet of text that caught his attention and made him click on the message was strange coming from him.

"Man, you've got to watch this. Not often you get to see Karma in action."

Under that was a you tube link.

That frown morphed into a look of confusion as he hit play and watched the last few minutes of the fatal four-way. Nothing seemed out of place at first. Triple H screwed over Roman and was obviously about to hand his golden boy his shiny prize. Then something unexpected happened. Instead of grabbing a barely conscious Kevin Owens and delivering a pedigree, Triple H kicked out at Seth and put him in his signature finisher.

Owens looked baffled for a couple of moments until Hunter indicated for him to cover the now former face of the authority. As the referee counted, Dean held his breath. He was waiting for Seth to kick out or for Triple H to turn on the so-called prize fighter. But it didn't happen. Owens hand was raised, he was announced as the new champion and Triple H stormed away without so much as an explanation for what happened.

He watched it again and again. Even paused and went back to certain portions. Trying to find a moment for that betrayal to make sense or even just to see it coming. There was nothing though. No matter how many times he watched that clip, the picture didn't get any clearer.

That was the thing about being betrayal. The one who got stabbed in the back could never understand the why's and how's. Couldn't fathom what had just happened. No explanation would really ever explain it away. Not even if the person on the receiving end of it wasn't exactly blind to the fact that it happening to them was a big possibility.

Dean hadn't seen it coming even though he should have. Wasn't the first time someone he trusted, that he had called family had betrayed him. It had been an established pattern in his life since he was child. But he'd foolishly let his guard down and trusted in Seth, his brother, his best friend. In the end, Seth decided that guaranteed success, power and money was enough reason to stab him in the back repeatedly and to prey on him when he'd been injured and vulnerable.

Now Seth was living through the same experience. Only it wasn't just a sense of family, of belonging that was being ripped from him though. All that silver platter handed success, that corrupting power and that ill-gotten loot was also being snatched from him leaving him vulnerable and alone. He would back to square one now. Having to scratch and claw to prove that he could make it back to the top without the help of his former Sugar Momma and Daddy.

He knew that he should enjoy this more than he did.

Should be cackling in delight that the traitor finally got what was coming to him.

While there was a part of him that was rejoicing in his former brother getting a taste of his own medicine, there was another part that almost felt bad for him. Because even though Dean had warned him that it would happen, Seth hadn't believed it. He seemed to really believed that this would be the one time the Triple H didn't turn on one of his protégé's. Figured he was safe because the devil didn't screw over those who willing sold their souls. Right now, he probably didn't understand how he's fallen victim to the older man's ruthless tendencies.

He'd have questions constantly going through his mind. Tormenting him. Driving him crazy. Making him desperate for answers, for revenge or some twisted combination of both. There'd be no peace until he got one or the other.

Dean knew that cycle better than just about anybody. After all, it had been his life for the last couple of years. It never got easier, the hatred and feeling of betrayal never dimmed. There was also an overwhelming sense of anger at yourself, for being stupid enough to trust someone. Those emotions threatened to take over all the time. Wanted to erupt and make you lash out any opportunity that you could.

So while he detested the urge, wished it would have shriveled up and died a long time ago, he almost wanted to reach other to Seth. Make sure that he was alright. Offer some advice. Listen to the younger man vent. Be the friend that he probably needed at this moment.

He hated himself for that impulse.

Just like he hated himself for still believing the things that Seth had said to him when he'd been recuperating from his head injury.

That final conversation in the hotel room, where Seth had said that he didn't regret the choices he made and would do them again had always rang hollow to him. Not in the sense that Seth had been lying to him but more so that the architect had been denying the truth of the matter to himself. That he needed to believe that he'd done what was best for him and that he felt like he thought that he wouldn't make it on his own. He had committed to the idea and was sticking it out until the end.

There'd been moments when it looked like Seth had started to rebel against those thoughts. Times when it seemed like he'd been eager to break away from the rigid control of the authority. When he'd deliberately go against what they wanted, pushed back and did things on his own. It really seemed like he was sick of being nothing more than a cog in the machine. That it would only be a matter of time before he broke free of that association once and for all.

Then Seth tore his knee to shreds and was on the sidelines for almost seven months.

Which put him out of commission. Gone but never forgotten unfortunately. He wouldn't allow himself to be, popping up every now and then for different functions. Spoke in interviews about how he was taking that time to redesign and rebuild himself into a better version so he could reclaim everything he had worked for. Made it sound like he was working on redeeming himself. That he saw the errors of his ways and was using his rehab time to fix things.

Promised that when he returned, we'd see a better version of Seth Rollins but it never happened.

If anything, he had regressed to the ass-kissing, scheming golden boy of the authority.

Dean had been disappointed but wasn't really surprised. He knew that injuries did strange things to people because he had been there. But they were even worse for people like Seth who over thought every aspect of his life. Having that time off would convince him that he needed that backing and their approval to reclaim what he'd lost over the months. Needed the praise and validation to silence the doubts and insecurities that plagued him.

Seth could never handle it if he wasn't number one. He really did his best to endear himself further to Stephanie and it worked. His reward was being moved to the front of the line to challenge Roman for the title. But he was never expecting for Dean to insert himself in the equation with a money in the bank victory and cash in. They entered into war again and it had felt good to come out on top, to take that gold away from the greedy man.

He was prepared for the war to rage on.

But the company split the roster.

Honestly, he wasn't disappointed at the outcome of that and it had felt better doing his own thing far away from the ghosts of betrayals past. He was doing really good on the blue brand. It was nice to have the support of Shane and Daniel. There was no way in hell that he wanted to get sucked back into any of that old drama again. Didn't want to rip open the scabs that would never fully heal and end up adding new ones.

So while he could almost feel bad for what happened, that was about it. He wouldn't act on the impulse to check up on things. When you had been burned and broken as many times as he had, you learned to fight back impulses that would only end up badly. There was no doubt in his mind that if he reached out to Seth, allowed him even a sliver of space to wedge himself back into his life that things would just end up going to hell again. It was better just to sit back and keep himself far away from a situation that had nothing to do with him.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of his phone that was still absently clutched in his hand. His eyes drifted to the display and he let out a relieved breath when he saw who it was then answered, "Hey Ro, what's up?"

"You know, same old shit." Roman sounded exhausted to his core. "Just wanted to check in with you. Felt like we haven't had as much time to do that now that we're different brands."

His lips twisted into a grin, "You mean, you wanted to see if I know what happened on the show tonight."

"No, I know someone would have sent you something about that. Hell, I was there living through it and have a ton of messages." There was a humorless chuckle. "I don't know man, I guess I'm just kind of struggling right now and needed to talk to my best friend."

That was easy enough to do because despite going head to head with Roman, they were as tight as ever.

"It sucks that Triple H fucked this up for you but you'll get other chances." Dean told him honestly. "Before you know it, that ugly ass fruit roll up that your brand is calling a championship will be off Kevin and around your waist again. Or you know, hanging off your shoulder in a way that pisses off the fans."

There was a weighted silence followed by a sigh. "Thanks for that but that wasn't what I was talking about. Yeah, I mean, it sucks that happened but I'm not really all that shocked. I figured that Hunter wouldn't be through screwing things up for me. And make no mistake about it, seeing that jerk Owens parading around with a title he didn't earn with Jericho pumping him up is annoying as hell but I can deal with it for now. "

He frowned, a little confused. "Then break it down for me brother cause I'm lost."

"This is going to sound so stupid and I know that, but I meant that I'm struggling with what happened to Seth." It sounded like it took a lot out of Roman to admit that. "He trusted Triple H for some reason and this was the result."

"Oh." He didn't want to deal with this, especially since he already decided that he was staying out of it.

"At first, I wasn't worried about it but then I saw him after the match. We passed each other in the hallway, I was heading out and he was finally making it back to the locker room and he just looked completely lost." The big dog sighed again. "Like he didn't really understand what happened or why."

Dean shifted, hand drumming anxiously against his collarbone. He really didn't want to be having this conversation. Clearing his throat, he pushed down the turbulent emotions he had been feeling since he watched the clip and concentrated on coming off as aloof about the whole situation. "Don't know why it's a surprise to him, everyone on the roster and in that audience knows what Triple H is like."

"I think Seth thought it would be different this time. That he'd proven his loyalty to them over the years."

"That's on him for not listening and watching his back."

"I guess but I'm thinking of giving him a call, see if he needs to talk."

That wasn't just talk. Roman would actually follow through with it and not just because they were on the same brand. Because deep down, he never stopped looking at Seth as his little brother and still cared about him. It was just the way the Samoan man was. All about family, no matter how shitty that family had been to him. There was always a second chance to be had in his eyes and he'd always give the opportunity to take it.

Instead of getting on the older man's cause about being a softy, he decided to go the play it straight route. "You sure you want to go there? Opening that can of worms might end up backfiring on you, especially if this is some contrived plan of the authority's to screw you over."

"Don't think this is."

"Even if it's not, it'll probably still backfire." He really wanted to stress that fact to the older man, make him understand that things weren't always black and white.

"It might not." It was almost painful how hopeful Roman sounded. "Could be the first step in finally making things better."

Dean gave a noncommittal hum in response.

"I mean, at least we had each other when our world was shattered." His tone was so disgustingly sincere. "I think in order to get perspective and come to grips with what happened to him, Seth's going to need someone to talk to. Reaching out to him would let him know that he's not alone, that there are places for him to turn if he needs them."

He chewed on the side of his thumbnail and gave another indistinguishable hum instead of saying that Seth would probably turn to him, with another steel chair across the back.

"If it went well and he's open to the idea, then I figured that maybe we could make plans to meet up and talk." There was a very significant pause and he knew that he wasn't going to like whatever was said next. "All three of us. Like next week after Smackdown."

No, absolutely not.

"Ro, listen, if you feel like you want to reach out to him and let him back into your life then I won't stop you man." Dean took a deep breath. "But I don't want to be involved."

"I get it man and trust me, I know you have a hell of a lot more reasons than I do to hold a grudge against him for everything…" He trailed off tiredly. "But it's been almost two years since all that went down. Don't you think it would be better for the both of you to sit down and talk about everything?"

"We said everything we needed to say in a Nashville hotel room."

"Things were different then because everything was still so fresh." Roman countered smoothly, his tone imploring. "It had only been a could of months since the Shield ended and a couple of weeks after you got your memory back. Not nearly enough time for tempers to settle down."

He laughed mirthlessly at that, "You forget that he was the reason that the Shield split and the reason that I lost five weeks of my life to a major concussion and memory loss?"

"I haven't forgotten…"

It was clear in his tone that there was more to it than he was saying. That he was hedging on finishing that because he was worried about how it would be received. "But?"

"I forgave him."

Dean's eyes widened at that. "What?"

"I had to." Roman informed him. "I'm not saying that I condone or understand why he did the things he did or the ways he did them. Because I don't and never will. But being angry, hating him, holding onto all of that, it took too much from me."

His hand clenched so tightly into a fist that his knuckles turned as white as the sheets on the bed. "It took too much from you?"

"It's takes too much energy to be angry and hold a grudge against someone. Too consuming and detrimental to your own happiness. It's stifling and childish."

"You think I don't have a right to feel how I feel about him?" His blood was boiling over that description. "That I'm just being an immature asshole?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying Ro?" The question was a growl.

"I believe that to him, turning on us was the only way he thought that he could get ahead. That it wasn't personal but a business decision."

"Wow, so does the same logic apply to what he did to me?"

"What he did to you, driving your head into those cinderblocks was stupid and reckless, completely disgusting but he did try to help you, even though the way he went about it was questionable at best."

He rolled his eyes so hard that it almost hurt. "He took advantage of the fact that I had short-term memory loss and didn't remember that he was a lying, manipulative snake!"

"Like I said, his method left a lot to be desired but he made sure that you did what the doctors said and made a full recovery."

"So what?" Dean tossed out bitterly. "That mean that I'm supposed to be thankful to the prick? Give him a free pass on being the one who was responsible for it? Forget everything I went through?"

"No but-"

"I'm not saying that you weren't worried or didn't check up on me but I am saying that it's easy for you to forgive him because you weren't the one who had to live through it. I was."

Roman's tone was contrite, "I know."

"No, you really don't!" His counter was heated, his temper flared. "You weren't the one who had to sit in his house everyday, not allowed to do anything because he was fighting concussion symptoms. You didn't forget six months of your life because of memory loss. You also weren't the one wondering what the hell he was going to do with his life if he didn't recover, trying to figure out what kind of job a high school drop-out could get. That was all me!"

"I…"

"Yeah, Seth finally sunk his claws into you when you got suspended, said some nasty things but it doesn't even come close to the shit he's said and done to me for over two years." Dean sagged back against the mattress, emotionally exhausted. "So go ahead and try to be his friend, his brother, again. Don't expect me to follow your lead. Because I don't forgive him and there's no reconciliation for him and I anytime in the near future."

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to get involved in this." Roman sounded like he'd been punched in the gut. "I should have taken your feelings into consideration, looked at the whole picture before I even mentioned this to you."

He huffed in response.

"It's late, you've got Smackdown in a few hours." It sounded like the words were rushing out of the Samoan's man mouth. "I'll let you go. Good night and kick some ass!"

"Yeah, night." His thumb hit the end button with a little more force than necessary.

Dean got out of bed, pacing the room to burn off the excess anger and frustration that swirled through him.

No matter what, he knew that he made the right decision for himself. There was no reason to forgive Seth for the things he'd done or try to reconcile just because he'd finally gotten a small taste of his own medicine. Because he had a feeling that the experience wouldn't change anything. Seth wasn't going to change his ways or suddenly revert to being the person he'd been before the first betrayal. He'd never apologize for things that happened in the past, just pretend that they never happened.

There was no way that Dean would even begin to consider the idea of forgiveness until he got an honest apology from the traitor. Not one that came because Seth was at a low point in his life. Wouldn't consider one that Roman pushed him to make. Definitely not one that he offered up to escape a beating. It had to be genuine, done because he actually regretted the things he'd done.

That wasn't asking too much.

It was the least he was owed after everything he'd been through.