He was exhausted. Somehow, she still had energy enough in the tank to drag both he and Rome down to the hotel bar that evening. He waited until the first three whiskey's had been downed before breaking the news. Before telling her that Dean was gone.
She didn't take it well.
After reminding her that every glass she broke they'd have to pay for it, she finally sat back on the stool. Paige leaned against that bar, her sharp elbows dug into the wood as Rome signalled for another of the good stuff. The bartender, who almost seemed a little afraid of the raven haired woman, quickly put it down in front of her and hurried away to serve another patron. Paige didn't move. Instead her long hair, freshly washed hung down over her face like a funeral shroud and he couldn't tell what emotions were playing out on her face. He could feel anger rising off her in waves, but with Paige that meant very little.
They sat either side of her. Earlier there had been others, Sami had joined them, the Bella twins had poked their noses in to congratulate their friend before hurrying away to check on their respective other halves and no doubt get an early night. But now, it was them and the few stragglers that remained at the midnight hour on a Monday. Smackdown was coming up soon – but tonight it would have been rude to interrupt her celebration. Revealing the truth about their little brother had put a dampener on any and all good feelings there had been.
'Luke gave me this,' Seth reached into his pocket and pulled out the lighter. He studied it in the low light, turned it over and over as if searching for some kind of hidden clue. But of course there was nothing. Nothing more than the faded metal of a lighter nicked from someone whilst Dean had been in the can. It was his most prized possession. The idea of him parting with such a precious thing willingly was enough to make Seth wonder if Luke had been telling the truth.
But what reason would Harper have to lie to them? The giant had saved him from the Wyatt's clutches, had entrusted him with the life of his dog…
The only thing that made any sense was that Dean had indeed gone with the Wyatt Family to distract them from Paige's match. A sacrifice no one would have allowed him to make, especially knowing that Bray Wyatt had his own agenda, his own warped ideas when it came to who…or what Dean was.
Paige finally looked up, peered through the strands of wet hair and a skinny hand reached out to take the lighter from his fingers. She quickly withdrew back into the safety of the cocoon she'd make for herself.
'He did this for me?' she muttered.
'It seems that way,' Rome injected and took a harsh glug of the ale that was set firm in his massive paw. He sniffed and slowly set the glass down again on the bar top with a heavy thud that made near everyone in the room jump. 'I should have known something was wrong when I found him the way he was at the bottom of the bed. He was staring at the wall, never seen that look on his face before.'
Roman was blaming himself. He always felt responsible for them all. Seth was as upset as the rest of them. It tore him to shreds. But Dean had made the decision and even if any of their brotherhood had known the truth, he would have somehow found some way of achieving his crazy plan. He had no doubt that his brother was being treated poorly. Even if Dean would have gone willingly, Bray Wyatt would not allow him luxury.
'What do we do?' Paige whispered and finally swept that wild mane of hair back from her face. She looked paler than usual – it might have been the drink or it might have been the worry. Probably a combination of the two and so much more. She reached for that whiskey tumbler and knocked the liquid down so quickly Seth wondered if she'd wake up with whiplash the next day. 'We have to get him back.'
'We will, I don't know how…or even if he'll let us try. But we will,' he'd not felt like drinking – even when the ambiance had been jovial. He was so proud of her. She'd done so well. Stephanie wouldn't dare show her face for a while now that this had happened. Hopefully she'd hide under the same rock that her husband had been buried under. It would give them all a break. It would give them time to focus on getting Dean back. 'But we have something else to worry about as well.'
Paige turned to look at him, her face marred by confusion.
His throat felt a little dry. Maybe he should have had a drink. It would make this reveal a little easier. Somehow telling her about Dean was gone was less of a struggle.
'I had a meeting with Vince.'
'What?' Paige sat up and turned to face him completely. 'Why are you only telling me this now? What happened? If he fired you again I'm walking in there -,'
'No, he didn't fire me.'
'Well?'
'He promoted me.'
'Excuse me?'
'You're looking at the new GM of Smackdown,'
'You're fucking with me.'
'Kind of wish I was,' Seth ran a hand through his hair and finally felt ready for the drink he'd been putting off. He raised an arm to get the bartender's attention and signalled for a refill for Paige and the came for him. Now that he'd finally come out and said it, a weight had been lifted. He felt a little lighter, but only a couple of pounds. The gravity of Dean and what he'd done could have thrown him twenty feet below ground. 'He liked what we were doing…even though it messed with his daughter's plans. He hated our attitude but liked our changes. Though to be honest, I'm surprised I haven't had a call revoking this new shift in power after your little display tonight.' He placed a hand on her shoulder and she tilted her head to touch it affectionately. 'You showed her Paige, you really showed her.'
'It was about time someone shut her up.' Rome agreed and turned in his seat to toast Paige's now refilled glass.
Seth's was set in front of him and he held it in the fingers of both hands, turning it a little as he watched the amber liquid spin slowly in the reverse direction. 'To be honest, I think Stephanie knew that tonight was her last night with that belt.' He picked up the glass and held it to the light, saw the smudges of a thousand washes and fingerprints forever embedded on it. Just like the belt that Paige had secure in the duffle bag at her feet. It had been handled by dozens of women, all of whom had gone down in history. Some as the Women's Champion. Others…
'Paige, I think we should destroy that belt.'
'Say what? I only just got it!'
'I mean it. You fought for the championship because you deserve it. But seriously, are you proud when you have that fucking butterfly in your hands? Are you proud of a championship which says 'LOOK I WAS MADE FOR GIRLS!''
Thoughtful, she placed her tumbler against her lower lip. There was a look in his eye, a spark that had just ignited that delighted him enormously. She knew what he was getting at.
'You think it's time for a new belt.'
'I think it's time for a new belt.'
'The newfound power has gone to your head Seth,' Roman said approvingly and chuckled into his glass as he drained it. He placed it back onto the bar and sniffed, stretching out his massive frame. 'Right, enough of this glumness. I think it's time we celebrated properly.' A hand slapped onto the bar top, 'Barman, shots! Shots all round!'
The entire bar area apparently had very good hearing, despite the chatter and suddenly cheered at Roman's generous offer.
That roused a laugh from Paige, 'You're suddenly kind with your money Big Dog,'
'I feel like a proud Papa Wolf,' he said and ruffled her wet hair affectionately. 'You did good tonight, little vamp.'
'Thanks Rome,' she smiled and leaned across to kiss his whiskery cheek. 'I should be thanking you for helping Sami deal with Kevin Owens, if he'd been the referee this all would have gone very differently.'
Roman shrugged his boulder like shoulders. 'I only held him whilst Sami laid him out. Those two are going to come to a head at some point. Their relationship is so…passionate. They either hate every fibre of each other's being, or they're close as brothers.'
'Sounds like us,' Seth watched as little shot glasses were lined up all around the bar and felt the world become a little closer as the other bar patrons came up to get their fill of free liquor. 'When Dean and I were fighting, sometimes it felt like we really did hate each other. I think we hated what the whole façade had done to us and needed an outlet, it turned out to be beating each other to a pulp.' He almost shivered at the memory of the things they'd done to one another. 'That concrete blocks thing? His idea…it was his idea and I didn't want to do it until the moment came and I was so frustrated and so angry that putting him through genuinely seemed like a fucking good idea.'
Paige patted his thigh. 'Don't be too hard on yourself baby, feeling too much is just something you boys all do. You love too much, hate too much…but tonight, let's drink too much.'
That seemed like a wonderful idea, but the idea of drinking without Dean hurt a little. He'd be scrambling all over the bar if he were with them, trying to hoover up as many of the shots as he could before the other punters could get a look in. Dean was a waste bin of wastefulness. He didn't have things but enjoyed acting to excess. Smoking, drinking, screwing…climbing really tall things until it really wasn't safe anymore and not coming down because he didn't want to admit defeat to gravity…Dean was something else. Sometimes Seth wasn't even sure he was human. More like a man-child gift from some god of trickery who decided that the human race needed a test. A test that could have tried the patience of the godliest of saints. But instead, a wrong address had been put on the envelope and somehow Mr Ambrose had ended up in the lap of the Shield.
Seth reached out slowly and grasped the shot glass that had been placed in front of him. It was empty for now, apparently Roman hadn't quite been specific enough with his demand of 'shots' and the barkeep was being a sarcastic bastard. But he could appreciate the amused grin on the guys face. It played behind an elegant beard and moustache that Seth was rather envious of.
'So what we going to pleasure these patrons with Mr Reigns?'
Rome scratched his chin thoughtfully. 'I propose…'
'Whiskey!' Paige shouted.
Another cheer from the bar's inhabitants.
'She's a troublesome one, isn't she Mr Rollins?'
Seth blinked. The voice had come from his right and had caught him completely unawares. A mere second before, no one had sat there at all, now though, a suited walrus perched on the edge of the stool, hands clasped on the bar top. Heyman looked rather worse for wear, not from alcohol, but rough around the edges as if he'd been rather thoroughly manhandled.
'What happened to you?'
'A mild disagreement, nothing more.' Heyman ran a hand through his greasy hair. He looked tired. For a moment, Seth almost felt sorry for the guy. Almost. Paul Heyman and his Beast would never stop being trouble for the Shield. He knew that. 'I heard about your Mr Ambrose.'
Seth was too exhausted to be surprised. 'So what you've developed superhuman hearing now?'
Heyman shook his head, 'No, though you're not the first to accuse me of it,' he nearly sounded good natured.'
'What are you doing here Heyman?' Paige suddenly cut in, having noticed finally they had additional, unwanted company.
'Simply here to congratulate Miss Knight on her win,' then, obscurely, Heyman smiled. But…it was a real smile, one that actually reached his eyes. It looked genuine, true, as if he were being vulnerable for the first time in his life. As if he…were trusting the three of them with a secret. Letting them see the man behind the manager. 'You put on one hell of a show. I must admit, and I shouldn't, that I rather enjoyed seeing Mrs McMahon-Helmsley get her comeuppance.'
The shot glasses on the bar were quickly being filled one by one for the thirsty patrons and even Heyman had a shot awaiting him. He appeared grateful, but he didn't touch it.
'I wanted to bring you something – as a sign of my appreciation for the show you gave the people.' He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box. He placed it on the bar and with one finger, he slid it across to where Paige sat. 'It's well deserved.'
Paige, suspicious, seemed not to want to touch it, but eventually it looked as if curiosity got the better of her and she reached out a slender hand to grip the box between thumb and finger. Her other hand slowly opened the lid.
Inside, sat snug, was a black obsidian stone, twisted in silver.
Paige's eyes widened, her mouth agape, she looked from the trinklet to Heyman and back again.
'I…I don't understand…'
'I saw what happened to your ring. I'm sorry. I thought this might be a way of showing that you're appreciated. What you did is appreciated.' Heyman nodded and held up his left hand. 'Marriage keeps us sane when we're on the road.' His own wedding ring sat snug on his fat finger. 'I think you two suit each other…and I certainly agree that together you'll do great things.' He reached out and took the shot sat in front of him in a hand, he held it in front of himself, 'I don't drink, but I'll drink to you two. And Roman Reigns, and to your friend Dean. You have one hell of a family.' He knocked back that shot of whiskey and winced as it burned his throat. He wriggled his nose in distaste before placing the shot glass back on the bar.
'Heyman, why are you being nice to us?' Roman asked, a thick set glare caught in his eyes and brow.
Clearly, Heyman had been anticipating the question and nodded his head, one slow, solitary nod. 'I can appreciate hard work. I can appreciate the bond you all share and I can appreciate when someone puts on one hell of a match. We are not friends, but that does not mean I can't find joy in something you achieve. Don't make a mistake, Roman Reigns, when we next meet again, we'll be enemies. But for now – congratulations. I hope you find your friend soon, Mr Lesnar has an appointment with him.'
'Dean did what he had to, why does Lesnar have so much beef?'
Heyman's smile switched quickly, to that smug, smarmy one they all knew and loathed. 'This is a business and Mr Lesnar is not in the business of losing, he considers your Mr Ambrose a cheat. He won't be cheated out of a win. So, I'm sure you can appreciate that he'll be keen to fix this…mistake.'
'Just like you can appreciate Paige's match?'
'Exactly.'
Heyman stood up from his stool, gave them a respectful nod, 'I'll see you soon, all of you. Enjoy your night.'
He made to walk away, managed a few steps before something smacked the back of his head and caused him to stop. He turned his head and looked down to the floor, where that small black box lay, half open, empty. He looked up to where Paige sat, her left hand held up, that silver twisted around her finger with the black stone embedded in it, winking in the light.
'Thanks…Paul.'
For a split second, that warm, human smile returned to Heyman's face, another nod, and he walked away.
Seth turned to look at that ring. 'Do you think he fixed it?'
Paige shook her head, 'Stephanie completely destroyed it…he must have found another one, somehow.'
It didn't make sense. None of it did. But Seth couldn't help but be grateful, grateful that something in Paul Heyman, of all people, had caused him to be kind. But he knew that the fat man wasn't lying, the next time they'd meet again, it would be as it always had been. Seth slowly gripped the shot glass sat on the bar in front of him and quickly drank it down. He needed it. The whiskey felt good and the quick softness of his brain made him feel a little unsteady but it quickly passed. Another twenty maybe. Or less. Less would probably be more advisable.
'Well…I guess…we owe him one,' Roman muttered and quickly followed suit by drinking his shot down. 'Another three please,'
The barkeep, who seemed to realise he was quickly going to make a lot of money out of the three of them, complied within seconds.
'This has been a very strange day,' Seth muttered.
'You're telling me.' Paige leaned against him, her raven hair falling over his shoulder and she let out a very slow, gentle sigh, content. 'All that's missing is my big brother,'
'I know. But we will get him back. He'll be drinking with us, getting shitfaced and tearing all his clothes off to stampede down the street before you know it. Though…maybe next time we let him in a bar we should tape his shirt and pants to him.' Seth chuckled at the thought, but almost instantly felt sad again. Nothing another shot wouldn't cure. So, he grasped the newest hit of whiskey and took it down. It was a little smoother this time. A little easier to swallow. It was no wonder that some people found it so easy to fall victim to the mastery of booze. For a few short seconds, it could make you numb. It could make you feel like nothing mattered, like you were wrapped up in some warmth. 'You know…I think he'd probably be glad that we're having fun.'
'You're not having fun Seth, don't lie. You're a shit liar.' Rome looked across to where Seth sat with raised eyebrows.
'Another few of these and I might do.'
'Don't go getting pissed on my account,' Paige interjected, but quickly signalled for more shots to be poured to go with those that Roman had ordered. As long as he could remember, he'd never been shitfaced. Never – Paige however seemed to see getting hammered as a rite of passage in some strange way. She'd previously told him stories of getting drunk with the Bellas and witnessing the infamous Brie Mode. It sounded like it could get messy. He kind of wanted to experience it. But with his new role as Smackdown GM looming, was it really the best of ideas?
Perhaps not.
But it still sounded like it could be fun. Paige's eyes had a curious shine to them – a sudden excitement at the prospect of seeing a different side of her husband to be perhaps. He didn't want to disappoint her.
'Alright, then I shall get pissed on the account of Dean.' Seth picked up the next shot and eyed it a little suspiciously before drinking it down.
It was going to be a long night.
