Now I Am Become Death…

Jamie Noble's eyes were sunken. It was obvious that the other member of J&J Security, the other man that headed Seth's security team, was feeling the loss of his partner. What had even happened to Mercury's body? Seth didn't want to know.

What Seth did want to know was why the man was standing in the middle of their cell with his hands fumbling around a set of rusting keys.

Was he setting them free?

"Jamie?"

"Sir, if you'll just— shut up—"

"What are you doin', Jamie?" Seth asked more quietly, his eyes darting around the cell. "If you help us, you're gonna die. You saw what they did to—"

"Shut up," Jamie hissed back at him. "I didn't come in here to have you try and talk me out of doin' my job."

The small man dashed forwards with a glinting key between his fingers and quickly unlatched the shackles from Seth's wrists, from Roman's wrists, didn't meet the Samoan's eyes with his own. Was he afraid?

Seth rubbed at his wrists absentmindedly as he stepped away from the wall. "Anyone know you're in here?"

Jamie shook his head. "No, sir. The coms have been dead since the crowds started pouring in and Stephanie McMahon is speaking to that Waters lady. Halls are empty. They're all positioned around the ring just in case someone tries to get through and end the fight how it shouldn't be ended."

But Seth's mind was already off racing away from what he was hearing. When they pulled Dean out of the room, the man had left wordless. Seth had tried to tell him to keep his head in the game, but he knew that it was falling on deaf ears— Dean would be too far away in his own mind already. And then he was thinking about Meredith. She was in the building, then; Triple H hadn't been lying about that. He couldn't get to Dean, so she was next on their list.

He lifted his eyes to Roman, then shifted them across to Jamie. "Can you take us to Meredith?"

The security detail nodded at him.

XxX

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, don't let this be real.

She was still shaking. There were tears falling from her eyes and hiccuped sobs falling from her chest, and she didn't know how long she'd been sitting against this wall with her bloodied hands pressed to her mouth, staring at the dead woman who was slumped over on the floor. Minutes? Hours? Too long, too long, too long.

Stop, she needed to stop and think and think and stop panicking, but she couldn't.

And then there was a voice. Calling a name, calling Stephanie, calling for the woman who she'd just killed.

"Stephanie?"

For the first time she realised that the door to the concrete room was slightly ajar.

And her mind started to race with a different kind of panic.

What if— what if they saw what she'd done? What if they killed her? What if they took her to Triple H— what if they killed Dean because of her?

Meredith was thinking too fast, eyes darting around the room to try and find something she chould protect herself with because that voice was coming closer and closer and she couldn't— she couldn't— her fingers closed around the discarded scalpel once more and she crawled as quick as she could to where Stephanie was, scooped her hand into that dark pool of blood, slathered it across her chest as messily as she could manage. If they both looked dead, the man would leave them, he'd run and get some people to—

"Stephanie?" He was closer now, a sunken Southern accent reaching out towards them.

The door creaked as it opened and there was a moment of silence, then a hiss of a swear and Meredith held her breath, tried to stop the tears flowing down her cheeks.

But the hand that was on her shoulder had a hurried breath crawling into her lungs and her shoulders twisted, a strangled cry sounding at the back of her throat as she thrust the scalpel at the man.

"Whoa! Meredith, calm down—"

No, no, no, she was shaking her head and trying to scream the knife into his neck like she'd done with Stephanie, but there were strong hands at her shoulders and deep brown eyes trying to peer into hers, deep browns that were kind and familiar and— and familiar, and for the shortest second Meredith paused and paid attention to who she was trying to stab.

"Meredith, Mer, it's me, c'mon, it's just me—"

He was speaking like she should have recognised him and she did, she knew that the man she was trying to kill was Seth Rollins, but some part of her brain wasn't connecting to what her body was doing.

His fingers tangled with hers around the steel and he was whispering, saying "you can trust us, we're not going to hurt you, we're not Stephanie, just let the scalpel go—" and she was gazing up at the other two men who were standing behind him, the large Samoan, the shorter man with sunken eyes, and slowly her fingers unfurled from the weapon.

And she was crying again. Pressing bloody hands against her mouth and letting the tears fall as Seth finally took the scalpel from her, holding it out towards Roman, and then his arms were curling around her waist and pulling her in against his chest.

But the only thing she could think of through her tears was where was Dean? Why wasn't he with them?

XxX

The cell was dark. Darkness that flooded his senses and his ears, darkness that was everywhere and no where, and as he remembered the way that Triple H had spoken to him, he felt that darkness seep into his veins.

They had Meredith once more.

He'd always known that Roman and Seth could get themselves out of this mess with or without him; they were at their best when they were paired together.

But Meredith? No, no one could help her. The Authority's building was massive, levels upon levels, and they didn't even know where she was or if she was still alive. Should I tell you then that the Wyatt's brought Miss Waters to us? Hunter had said, that grin like he'd won the world on his face. And then he'd promised that if he lost, Meredith would live. A web of words and promises that would be broken and so desperately he wanted to curl away into a ball and never show his face again.

"You hit him until he doesn't have a face anymore," Roman had hissed before they'd dragged him from the room. Seth had said something along those lines as well, but he was too far away in his own mind to make sense of the noise.

You get me into a position where I can talk to the masses and you'll have freedom for the rest of your lives.

Of all the noise in his head, Paul Heyman was the one he next made sense of.

His head was a mess. He couldn't fight like this, he couldn't read Triple H if he couldn't read himself. The darkened room offered no sort of way to get his head right, no sort of relief— until the shadowy figure of a small woman rounded the corner.

Sister Abigail Wyatt.

The same woman who's brother had wrapped his claws around Meredith and dragged her back into this mess.

He waited until she was in the cell before speaking. "Did you brother have a good trip?"

Even in the dark, he could see how her eyes flashed in fear and before she could turn and run, Dean had charged forwards and curved his hands around the slender neck, pushed her back up against the bars of the cell. She let go of a strangled cry and weakly clawed at his arms, eyes wide with panic and alarm.

"I feel like we've been here before," hissed Dean, "I feel like I gave you a chance to make the right decision."

When she tried to choke out squeaky words, he released some of the pressure. "I helped you," she finally replied.

Dean's lips lifted at the corners as he saw the colour drain from her face. She knew exactly what this was about now. But instead of killing her like he should have, he backed away completely from the Sister and perched himself on the bench. "C'mon then," he spoke lowly, "tape me up. Watch me win. 'Cause then I'm coming for your brother and the rest of those swamp boys."

With shaky hands and eyes that wouldn't meet his, Sister Abigail ran the tape across his shoulder and around his chest, secured his dodgy socket right in place.

"I didn't know…" Abigail tried, but her voice stumbled over the words in her mouth. "I didn't know what Bray was doing. He— he doesn't tell me anything, Dean. And when he came back with Meredith… I'm sorry. I didn't— I didn't know. I know what she means to you. I know—"

Dean snorted at her and pulled away completely from her touch, dragged a hand across his stubbled jaw. Then his blue eyes were locked on hers. "You think I didn't notice, Abigail? That you come in here before my fights and make sure I'm all taped up? Think I wouldn't pick up on the way you looked after me? What, do I remind you of your brother? Do you think I'm some broken puzzle you can fix? That if you play dumb long enough, you'll crawl under my skin?" He laughed at that, shook his head. "I'm not broken. And you can't fix me."

But instead of looking like he'd just shot her, Sister Abigail simply… laughed. It was like flicking a switch. "I can't decide whether you truly believe what you're saying or whether you're just that stupid."

"Bipolar as usual, I see," Dean breathed to himself. "Have to hand it to ya, Abs— I didn't realise it at first. I thought you had a crush, I didn't realise that I was your next project. I mean, Batista was your last one, wasn't he? Sent him away for three years and then he came back in pieces 'cause he was mauled by Brock Lesnar. How'd that work out for you?"

She thrust the tape at him and stood, backed away. "You don't want to burn this bridge, Dean. You may think that you're going to die in there, but if you make an enemy of me… my brother will be the least of your concerns."

"Your brother's decided to bring the best thing that's happened to me back into this fuck up of a city," Dean spat as he stood up. "If I get out of that cage, the first people I'm comin' for are your boys. And you, of course, but I might just let Brie Bella do her thing and tear you a new breathing orifice."

Her eyes flashed dangerously. "Brie Bella will be nothing if she lays a hand on me."

It was Dean's turn to smile now. But he was intrigued for once, found a curiosity in his bones that was like a fire. She wasn't the only one who used words to find hidden agendas. Eyes saw past what was there, eyes there were able to see past the words he spoke. He'd found it useless trying to hide anything, because she would always know— she'd tasered him once just to stop his pain. Or maybe she'd done that for her own personal gain. Yet now… now, he knew her words and her reactions. He knew what this was without her having to allude to it. She was firing him up because she wanted him to survive. The times he'd purposefully used her, threatened her, hurt her… She wanted this war, her family against his. He just had to get out of that cage alive.

When her back found the bars once more, Dean realised he'd been slowly advancing on her. His eyes narrowed. "What are you planning?" he whispered slowly, tilting his head a little.

And then Abigail arched up and into him, pressing her lips to the side of his mouth, curling her fingers around the waistband of his jeans to keep her body pressed against his. He felt cold steel settling in the nook of his hipbone, turned his head away so her mouth was pressed to his ear instead.

"Good luck, hound."

And then she was gone.

He felt a shiver crawl down his spine and turned away from the bar in distaste. Dean's taped fingers pressed against the brass knuckles sitting between his skin and the material on his hips— this was her way of helping him survive.

Not moments later, they were escorting him towards the cage. The sound echoing through the tunnels was unreal— the stands were probably sold out, filled with people who wanted to see both of them bleed until they died. And in the centre, in the middle of the cage, was a shirtless Hunter Hearst Helmsley, a sledgehammer hung over his shoulder lazily. Dean smirked. He wasn't the only one who didn't mind playing dirty.

Threading his fingers through the steel mesh, eyes staring into the caged ring, he almost lost sight of what he was supposed to be fighting for— he just wanted the pain, like a Great White zeroing in on blood, and he didn't care whose pain it was. But he had to remember that they had Roman. They had Seth. They had Meredith. They would hurt everyone he had ever cared about if he fought back, but there were no ifs, ands, or buts. He wasn't backing down. Not this time.

Across the way, hazel eyes were assessing the way he stood at the entrance— Paul Heyman and his suit of silk, tongue like a razor darting over a pink mouth.

To win was to die. But to fight… to fight was to have freedom.

Hunter Hearst Helmsley had once said something to him. It had been a long time ago, when they were under him as The Shield, but it still rung clear like it was said just moments ago.

"Now, I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

Gonna have to run me over with a fuckin' car to get rid of me, sunshine, he thought bitterly. And then, with a voice loud enough for Triple H to hear him, he said, "I'm indestructible. I am the dirtiest, meanest, nastiest, most rotten son of a gun walkin' this planet, and we're gonna burn together, H, but you're gonna perish alone."

oh lordy, what a chapter! (i got it done in a day but TRUST me it was a BITCH to write!) i feel like this is the crescendo! like everything in this story has been leading up to this one point, and next chapter it's upon us! this calls for celebration, which is why i'm uploading this now!

also, i'm full time at work for the next two weeks (until next Wednesday?) so i'll try and write as much as possible between then, but no promises!

to next-to-nerdy (Dean is ready for battle! No way is he going to give in easily. I'm glad you could feel the shock, but i didn't really like it... so hopefully her point of view this time around made it a bit more intense. and honestly, i would SO collaborate with you! thank you for the congrats! And your nickname... Non? An abbreviation of your penname?), Nangel4 (Hunter will definitely go crazy once he's realised what Meredith's done... also, I'm glad you picked up on the RAW reference, I really liked the promo! Thank you for the congrats, I've definitely been a bit busy! hope you liked this one), Nobody's love (glad I'm not the only one with no remorse! i didn't even feel like prefacing the chapter with character death, I didn't even care!), and quinzel harley (i know you sent in a personal review on messages, but i'll still respond here- she will not be missed, and yes; TO THE FINALE!), thank you guys so much for the kind words and i hope you enjoyed this update!

next: -like i'm gonna spoil that, but trust me, it's good ;)