Sorry for the delay in updating. Hope you enjoy this next chapter! Zelks xx
Over the next week, Randy was quiet. He wasn't well behaved by any means, but he was quieter. At Smackdown, he somehow managed to limit himself to a few scathing remarks about Rebels parentage and suitability to be in the Rumble in the first place, which were quickly silenced by a smack in the mouth from the Diva, who'd had enough. He said nothing, possibly because Roman was stood behind her at the time, and looked like he'd cheerfully murder him, or it might have been because he was already on thin ice from Hunter.
"You ok, Sis? That looked like it hurt you too." Said Roman as Randy backed off and walked away. Rebel said nothing until Randy was out of earshot, and out of sight, before wincing and holding her hand, flexing it gingerly. "Yep. That hurt."
"You gonna make calling me Sis a regular thing?" She asked, earning a grin from the big Samoan.
"Well, you pretty much are my little sister, I take care of you, don't I? Drunk or sober…"
"I'm the same bloody age as you! And that was ONE time!" She exclaimed, with a half hearted glare. He laughed.
"How do I manage to put up with you, huh? Too firey for your own good, and yet somehow, I have to bring you back down to earth."
"Or you could, I dunno, let me beat him to a pulp next time he starts?" Rebel said with sarcasm. Roman chuckled and put an arm around her, leading her off to catering.
"And you think I don't want to do that myself?" He asked, getting a roll of Rebel's eyes in response.
Rebel soon found out why Randy was being so quiet on the violence front the following week at RAW. She'd spent the whole two weeks previously in the company of at least one of the guys, and was itching to be on her own for a bit. So, after a small lie to ensure she got some her time, she was feeling much better come show time. At least, till midway through the show. Rebel had a match that evening against a mystery opponent, and figured it was highly likely it was Randy Orton. So when a familiar music hit that wasn't his, she felt initial relief. It was short lived, however, when the wrestler Fandango got down to the ring, with Rosa Mendes on his arm. Dean, ringside, frowned, and grabbed Rebel a microphone.
"Hey, well, look who's feeling better, welcome back!" Rebel said with a smile.
"Thanks, but I'm not here to see how much you undoubtedly missed me." He replied with a smug smile.
"Lemme guess, and stop me if this sounds familiar. You're out here, annoyed as all hell, cause you were so ill you missed the Rumble, and Rebel took your spot, and to that end you think you should have her spot?" Dean asked, an eyebrow raised.
"Exactly." He said, to a chorus of boos.
"Those oil slick tight pants must have gone to your head more than I thought," Dean said, shaking his head as Rebel looked on incredulous. "Is it mandatory they have to be that tight…do they cut off circulation to your…"
"Little Fandango is not up for questioning here!" He exclaimed. There was silence of a few seconds before the crowds began chanting "Little Fandango! Little Fandango!" as one, causing Dean and Rebel to erupt in to hysterics.
"Ok..ok…look. Let's just get this match underway, so I can kick your entitled arse all over the ring and smack seven barrels of crap outta you." Rebel said, gasping for breath.
"You don't stand a chance. Bring it." Said Fandango, as Rosa and Dean stepped out of the ring, and the bell went.
Backstage Hunter and Steph were watching.
"Is this guy serious?" asked Steph in disbelief. "He thinks he can just…waltz back in to the ring, and demand we give him Rebel's spot?"
"I'd say he had balls, but let's face it…in that outfit, you can tell…"
"Hunter, I do NOT want to have a conversation about Fandango's testicles!" exclaimed Steph, stopping her husband in his tracks. He laughed aloud, and catching his eye, Steph did too. There was a pause as they regained their composure, and went back to watching the match. Rebel was giving very little to Fandango, the man finding himself surprised and alarmed at what the woman could do. Dean, however, was keeping a close eye on Rosa, stopping her from getting on the apron a few times to grab at Rebel.
"How's the babysitting going?" she asked.
"Rebel's getting antsy with it. She managed to give the guys the slip earlier. I don't know how much longer they can keep it up. Especially as Fast Lane is coming up, and well, lets face it, at the moment everyone wants to see either Randy vs Rebel, or Lesnar vs Rebel. Because everyone knows, she won't pick Roman. Ever." Hunter replied.
"Do you think Randy will let this go once we get past Wrestlemania?" asked Steph, the look in her eyes suggesting even she knew the answer.
"Personally, I'd like to hope so. I really would. After all, there's no need to go after her."
"There's a but there, Hunter, I can sense it…" She said, frowning. "You don't think he will, do you?" Hunter shook his head as in the ring, Rebel pinned Fandango and won.
"If she wins, he'll take it as a mark against his pride. For her to do so much in the space of the what, three years she's been in the organisation, against his tenure, it's going to rattle with him." Hunter said, putting his thoughts in to words. "If she loses, even if it were against The Undertaker, he'll never fail to remind her how close she came, and how much she lost."
The show was now over, the arena quiet apart from the odd wrestler here and there heading back to the hotel. Rebel had finished training with Brock for the evening too, and had just changed, coming out of the ladies locker room to find Roman stood waiting.
"What is it with you three just lately? Anyone would think you fancied me or something, you can't seem to let me out of your sight." She said, rolling her eyes in annoyance.
"Well you are cute," Roman began, and laughed as Rebel gave him a glare that clearly told him to knock it off. "Ok, I'll leave you alone. Dean and Seth are rotating who's giving who a ride in, so it makes sense to swap out who rides with you now and then."
"I have a motorbike. You got a spare skid lid? Cause that's the only way you'll get a ride home." Rebel said, skepticly, as they began to head to the exit.
"As it happens, yes, yes I do." Roman said, opening his bag to reveal the top of a crash helmet.
"You're lucky my bike's built for two. Hey, Roman…can I ask you something?" Rebel looked up at the man as they reached the car park.
"Shoot." He replied, before scowling as Fandango came out of the darkness towards them, Randy Orton in tow.
"You up for a fight?" asked Rebel, noticing Fandango's fists balled as were Randy's.
"Not what you wanted to ask, I'm sure."
"No, but I'll ask what I wanted to another time." She said as four bags hit the floor. It was clear Fandango fancied his chances more outside the ring, and off camera. "You want some? Don't make me go Undertaker Medieval on your ass." Roman tried hard to suppress a snort of laughter at her words.
"Bring it, bitch." Fandango replied.
"Only my mother calls me that," Rebel spat, before charging at him and rugby tackling him to the ground as Roman and Randy collided. "And I don't like her much either."
The four scrapped in the car park, throwing punches with deadly aim, until the blood ran free. Randy bolted as Fandango hit the deck again, and Rebel sat on his chest, her own blood smeared face angry as she punched the man harder, the full force of each blow could be felt by Roman too, and he wasn't even being hit. After the third punch, Roman pulled her away, and Fandango got up and ran.
"What did you stop me for?!" she exclaimed incredulously.
"1, so you don't end up with a murder charge on you, and 2, because you're pissing out more blood than you think. Come on, Iron Mike, I'm pretty sure you won this round. Lets get back to the hotel and clean up. And hope neither of us need stitches."
"Randy got you a goodun, huh?"
"Bastards got sharp knuckles." Roman said with a smirk.
Walking in to the hotel lobby, their colleagues looked at them in horror. Roman's forehead was split, his left eye had the beginnings of a beautiful shiner, and his lip was swollen. Rebel had a split lip, bloody nose, split eyebrow, and a cut to her forehead. She too had the beginnings of a black eye on her right eye.
"What the fuck happened to you two?" asked Big Show as they got their keys and checked in.
"You should see the other guys." Roman smirked. "Rebel did a hell of a number on them."
"You weren't exactly sitting by watching, were you?" she asked with a laugh, as Seth and Dean came out of the bar area, and upon getting a look at the pair of them, shook their heads amid smirks. Hunter came out shortly after as the four friends regrouped, spotted the pair, and groaned. He made a phone call, and called the pair over. They came over, grinning sheepishly.
"I'm not going to ask what happened, because I'm fairly sure I know. Answer me two questions. Do you know the way to Doc Amaan's room?" he asked.
"Yeah. What's the other question?" asked Roman, brow furrowed.
"Please tell me you kicked his ass?" Hunter replied with a devilish grin.
"Rebel went, and I quote, "Undertaker Medieval" on his ass." Roman said with a smile.
"Good. Go get seen to. Now." Roman nodded and lead Rebel away. "She's going to be the death of me, I swear it," Hunter said, more to himself than anyone listening.
"You and us both, Hunter. You and us both." Dean replied.
Fast Lane was now approaching quickly, and Rebel found herself in either Dean or Seth's company quite frequently as Roman trained himself to face Brock Lesnar. Of course, she had made it well known she would be at ringside cheering Roman on. Everyone knew she was good friends with him, and considering her current position it made sense for her to be there. She was to face Randy Orton that day, and everyone knew he would be doing his best to make sure she didn't get to Wrestlemania. Rebel knew Hunter's reasoning. There was no way she was going to face Orton at Wrestlemania, she would be more likely to pick whoever was champion at the time. And if he got his chance to face her, perhaps he'd see she wasn't lacking in skill. So she trained with her friends, the boys swapping out as her sparring partner each day so she was unfamiliar with them, ensureing she was ready and set to go. Lesnar was no longer training her leading up to the event, having to focus all his time on facing Roman.
When she came in to the arena on that Sunday, ready to face the Viper, she was quick to be informed that Triple H wanted to speak to her. Confused, she went straight to his office and was invited in as soon as she knocked the door.
"What's up, Boss?" she asked, sitting.
"It's Orton. He's called in sick." He replied, with the look on his face that clearly suggested he didn't believe a word of it.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Rebel said, leaning back in her chair and putting a hand to her face. "What do we do? We were second to main event."
"I know. Think you can handle Seth?" he asked, as the door knocked and in came the man himself.
"Well, yeah, I should be able to." She replied.
"Handle me?" Seth asked, puzzled. Hunter explained what was going on, and Seth uttered a few choice swear words before agreeing.
"We need a win for Rebel here, Seth. Throw whatever you want at her, but we need her to win. Think you guys can work something out?"
"Can do. Come on, Rebel, we got work to do." Seth said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. They left Hunter sat with his head in his hands, before he made a phonecall.
"This is Hunter. Please alert me the moment Orton shows up. Yeah, I know he's sick, but there's nothing to say he won't show up regardless to distract Rebel."
Rebel and Seth met up with Dean and Roman in catering, both swearing like troopers and scowling like a disgruntled mother in law.
"And I'm gonna guess you've not got good news." Said Dean, as they came over and sat down.
"Not even slightly." Rebel replied, and explained everything to him and Roman.
"Oh for fucks sake," Roman exclaimed, as the pair revealed they were now the second to main event.
"Don't worry about me, dude, your fight is 10x more important." Rebel said, putting a hand on his arm. "And besides, what kind of sister would I be if I didn't come see my bro win his title?"
"One that would need her ass kicked." Roman grinned back. "Alright, I'll try not to worry."
Rebel found herself concerned as the day and night wore on. Those on Orton's side had drawn back, there were no remarks, no confrontations, nothing. Her fight with Seth went as planned. She got herself checked out, and joined Roman who, with Dean, headed to the ring. Then she and Dean sat next to commentary as their brother faced Brock Lesnar.
"You want him to win this?" Dean asked as the bell rang.
"He's got to…he can't not win this, it's the biggest fight of his career." Rebel replied as the two men went at each other.
"Yeah, I know, but if he does…you know what everyone will want to happen, right?" Dean said as the crowds roared a near fall.
"Yeah I know. And I remember, I did promise, no men the size of Roman." She added. Dean smirked. They sat in silence, breaking it only to talk about the match, or cheer Roman on when he got a near fall. Although neither would admit it, both were on edge, not able to concentrate entirely on the match. They were waiting for Randy Orton to come out, to distract them, to cause problems. As the fight wore on, Brock decided enough was enough, and at one point jumped out of the ring, snatched up his belt, and went to leave the arena. Roman watched, furious as he did so, but what he wasn't expecting was for Rebel and Dean to share a look, a look that said no fucking way was he going to be allowed to do that, and dash to the other side of the ring, blocking his way. Brock scowled at them both, before barking to get out of his way.
"Get your ass back in that ring, Lesnar. You can't walk on this one," Dean said, shaking his head.
"I am DONE. Make me." He said, attempting to push past the pair, but Rebel refused to move. Rebel then decided to show everyone just how far she was prepared to push buttons, and reached out, yanking the belt from his shoulder, and putting it round her waist, not breaking eye contact.
"Dean said get back in the ring. I'd do it if I were you. Unless you want the embarrassment of loosing by count out?" she added, as the referee counted to five. "And you know I know how to make you." Brock snorted in disgust, and turned around, heading back towards a rested Roman Reigns. Dean ruffled her hair with a smirk, whispering in her ear.
"Crazy Bitch. Belt looks good on you." He added, making them both laugh.
"If would look better on Roman." Rebel replied with a matching grin as Roman laid the Beast out with an evil Superman Punch and Spear combo. As soon as the reff hit 3, Dean and Rebel were in the ring by his side, hugs and congratulations in full flow. There was a pause between the three friends as Rebel undid the belt around her waist, and handed it to Roman, before holding up his hand in a gesture of good will, and leaving him to celebrate, Dean following shortly after.
"You could have just challenged him to Mania, you know," said Dean as they got backstage.
"Why would I do that? He's my big brother. Why would I want to ruin his moment?" she asked.
"Because you have to pick a mania opponent soon, Bel," added Seth as he joined them. "You've not got much time left."
"Yeah, I know," she replied as something dawned on her. "Wait…I just realised why Orton was so quiet today." She said, sitting on a nearby chair.
"Why?" asked Dean.
"Put yourself in the snakes skin. You've got a possible outcome of your enemy's best friend, which you know she would never challenge for the belt, or the possibility of one of your enemies biggest challenges to date. A challenge that she would never be able to match up to, because he'd flatten her. Wouldn't waiting till after tonight make more sense?" She said, voicing her thoughts.
"Of course it would. Because even to him, you'd wait till after a possible change of hands on the title landscape to announce who you were going to take on. It makes so much more sense than just letting you get hurt. Although I'm sure he wouldn't mind that too." Dean added.
After waiting for Roman to come backstage, congratulating him and hanging around for pictures, they headed back to the hotel, where Rebel got herself a decent nights sleep. Or at least, a mostly decent nights sleep. The fact she would need to pick an opponent was foremost in her mind when she awoke the next day. It stayed there as she showered and dressed, and as she went down to breakfast. She had to pick someone, Wrestlemania was too close a distance now, and if she didn't pick someone, Hunter would do it for her. There were too many in the locker room who wanted to see her fail, and Hunter's choice, albeit unintentional, could end up sealing that fate for her. She had joined the three guys, and was just about done with her breakfast when she glanced up, caught sight of someone, and felt her face drain of all its colour.
"You ok Bel?" asked Roman. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Worse," said Rebel as she stared, ashen faced at the woman making her way across the room towards them. "It's my mother."