A Moment in Time, I'll Turn Back

by caylender

Time travel was risky business. If you changed one thing, a whole bunch of other things would change with it without you realizing until it was too late. Maybe Roman should have thought about the consequences before he started altering the time stream. But he was doing it for the right reasons... to reunite his family, his brothers. Kayfabe

9. Chapter 8: Cracks

So here's the next bit. I have to admit that the reviews from the last chapter made me smile - exactly the reaction I was hoping for.

Chapter Eight: Cracks

June 2, 2014 9:58 PM

Even though the crowd was still screaming, clapping, and booing; even though there was a "You sold out!" chant being shouted, the world was oddly quiet because Roman was underwater. The only sounds he heard were the steady clomps of his boots hitting the floor and his heart pounding wildly.

When he was back in the janitor's closet where his past self was still unconscious, he slunk against the wall and for the first time since he grabbed the steel chair, he wondered what had just happened.

What was he thinking? Where was his mind when he was in the ring? Better yet, where were his morals? It was as though they abandoned him completely. He just attacked his brothers.

In cold blood. Without a thought.

He broke two chairs over his brothers' backs. And he was supposed to be the righteous one in this situation. He was the wronged party; he was the victim when Seth betrayed them, so why was it this easy to dish it back out on the man? Not to mention, he attacked Dean, who was only reacting to what seemed to be an unprovoked attack by him to Seth.

What had he been thinking?

He hadn't been, clearly. He had allowed his emotions to dictate his actions. He had acted purely out of his own rage, frustration, and anger from knowing the events of his own original timeline. Those feelings had just bubbled back up, and with no regrets, he'd swung that chair and in some warped way in his mind, got revenge.

What had he done?

Roman buried his head in his hands, feeling tendrils of guilt slowly work their way from his abdomen where his stomach turned in shame gradually working its way to his chest.

Maybe...just maybe this would still work out. Maybe his brothers would forgive his actions from this night, and everything would still turn out okay as he had hoped. Maybe the missing factor in all these attempts to change the past was to react out of emotion and let things run their natural course. Maybe...

Roman slowly pulled out the pocket watch. He carefully turned the dials forward and snapped the lid shut. He tried to calm his breathing, tried to stop his heart from racing, but eventually he just gave up and closed his eyes.

Thump Thump Thump

November 2, 2015 9:25 P.M.

Thump Thump Thump

Roman took a deep breath and eased it out once again. His heart was still was racing: Thump Thump Thump. He glanced around and didn't recognize where he was. He wasn't in the same locker room he had been using. It was an upgraded version: a private locker room. Roman couldn't help but feel impressed by it. He was used to sharing with someone, normally Dean, but he had never had his own private locker room before. Usually that kind of privilege was reserved for the champion…

"No way," Roman mumbled to himself. He glanced around the room, noticing his bag on the plush leather couch against the wall and something sitting on top of it.

He quickly crossed the room and stared in shock at the WWE World Heavyweight Championship belt casually sitting on his bag as though it belonged there. His eyes widened at the sight of his signature RR logo on the side plates of the belt.

"It's mine. I finally did it. I'm champion," he whispered as he reverently traced the "W," surprised the belt wasn't just a figment of his imagination. He carefully lifted the belt, almost cradling it and draped it over his shoulder. As he did, he noticed he was wearing new ring gear: black pants and boots as usual but also a new black vest with red accents.

The belt sitting on his shoulder felt good, like it belonged there. He smiled; something finally went right. Finally, he felt like he was where he was supposed to be.

How did he win the title? Was it against Lesnar at Wrestlemania? Was it sometime after? Was his family able to make it to whatever match it was to witness it?

His musings were cut short by very faint knocking on his locker room door.

"It's open," he called out. Well, he hoped it was…

The door opened slowly, and a young woman carefully stepped into the room, clutching onto a folder. Her copper hair was pulled into a messy bun, and she was wearing a recent WWE tour shirt. After a second of watching her avoid making eye contact with him. She studied her feet carefully and softly said, "Mister Reigns, Sir? Do you have a moment to approve this new T-shirt design? If you don't I can go…"

"Sure, babygirl, what do you have for me?" Roman asked as he reached out for her to hand him the designs. Roman knew this girl from somewhere….

She flinched as though she expected Roman to attack her with his title belt. She tentatively held out the folder and handed it to him.

He glanced down at the folder and immediately noticed a business card paper clipped to the outside, which read Marie Battellow. Marie. Oh, he knew her from the other two time lines: as the girl who gave Dean pudding if he asked politely and as his manager.

Roman frowned. Why was Marie acting like this? The other two times he met her she was nothing but confident, although the last time they met she was an extreme bitch. He idly studied the design, liking the slight tweaks to his logo on the front. "Looks good, thanks Babygirl."

Marie looked up in shock and surprise. "Really? No changes?"

Roman frowned. Why was she so surprised? "I don't think so. It looks great. The creative team did a great job with the design."

Marie quickly ducked her head once again, avoiding eye contact. "Okay, thanks, Mr. Reigns. Sorry to take up so much of your time."

"You can call me Roman, and it's no problem. Thanks for clearing them with me." He smiled at the shy woman.

Marie's lips quirked up in a small smile. "Oh, Mr. Roman, you should probably head over to your entrance mark. Remember? You have the main event match tonight."

Roman nodded. "Who am I up against tonight?"

A baffled expression crossed Marie's face. Normally, Roman never talked to her this much; the man was normally too busy being the face of the company for that kind of interaction. "Um, Daniel Bryan."

Great, Roman thought to himself. He didn't have anything against Daniel Bryan; it was quite the opposite really. He respected the hell out of the guy: both as a person and as a wrestler. The only issue was how beloved Bryan was to the WWE universe. The crowd wanted nothing more than to cheer for the ultimate underdog, which wouldn't do Roman any favors. Since the crowd was so against him, they would boo him out of the arena, if not the state, tonight. "Thanks, Babygirl. I better get going then."

Marie nodded and walked with him out the door. She gave him a parting small smile and whispered, "Good luck, Mr. Reigns."

And Roman found himself correcting her by saying "Roman" automatically.

"Good luck, Roman."

"Thanks," he replied. He headed to the spot he had used as his entrance mark back in his time stream with the hope it was still the right spot.

As he approached the entrance mark, he saw a production crew member pulling on her curly hair in distress as she frantically paced back and forth in front of another crew member who was casually leaning against the wall, playing on his phone.

"Can you believe this?" The girl asked. "The dude is always so freaking punctual all the time except for when we're put in charge of making sure everything goes on without a hitch! And it's five minutes after he was supposed to get here! Five minutes! This is horrible! I'm going to get fired! I lost their Samoan! And what the hell, Andrew? You're playing Angry Birds! Don't you care?"

Andrew barely glanced up from his phone. "Relax, sweetie. He probably ran into a fan or something. You know how he is, he's probably heading over right now. You always give him an earlier meeting time anyways, so we won't even delay the show. Stressing about it won't help anything, babe."

"Don't you 'babe' me! That won't change the fact he's still MIA! And we're going to get fired and end up living on the streets! And the McMahons will never let me work in the business again!" The girl looked like she was about to burst into frustrated tears.

Andrew finally slid his phone into his pocket. "Sarah, do you want me to head over to his locker room? I will if that'll make you feel better."

"I'm here. Sorry, I'm late. I had to approve a new design for Marie."

Sarah let out a visible sigh of relief. "I'm going to kill Marie later even if she is my best friend. Oh thank God, you're here. You scared me; I thought I'd have to go wrestle for you tonight, and that was not going to end well" She handed him a bottle of water.

Roman chuckled as he imagined the petite girl facing Bryan, but instead of wrestling, she would give him a lecture on the importance of punctuality… He took a gulp of water and dumped the rest on his hair.

Andrew pulled out his phone again, but instead of attacking more pigs, he checked the time. "Your music will be on in a minute. Good luck, Mr. Reigns."

Sarah nodded. "Oh and watch out for the Wyatts tonight. They haven't made an appearance yet, and they might want to show off that new member of theirs by interfering with your match."

"The dude in the farmer overalls? What's his name? Erp?" Andrew asked, voicing his concern.

"Nooo, the other new Wyatt! Who else would I mean? Some stupid body builder named, Beef Stroganoff? Of course, I mean Erp! He's the scariest Wyatt of them all!"

Andrew snorted. "Like the company would be dumb enough to hire another worthless body builder who can't wrestle! But I do like that name…"

The first guitar riffs of Roman's theme began, and he handed the water bottle to Andrew. "Thanks, both of you," he said before heading out into the audience to make his entrance.

"Hey Andrew," Sarah said after Roman left.

"Yeah?"

"He's never that nice to us, is he? Do you think he has a concussion or something?"

Andrew shrugged. "Maybe he had a change of heart and is now a good person instead of a self-serving ass."

The two exchanged glances before bursting out into laughter. "Yeah right, like that could happen."

Roman was on Cloud 9. The crowd was positively electric. There wasn't a single fan not standing and...cheering? Everyone was cheering for him! What in the world? When was the last time he received a universally positive response from the fans? He made his way down the aisle, and for possibly the first time ever with his entrance, no one groped him or shoved him. Of course, a few fans held out hands for a High Five or patted his back, but it was all actions of love and respect.

He carefully stepped over the barricade and approached Bryan who was already standing in the ring. He scanned the audience and was taken aback by how many signs he saw, supporting him. There were about a dozen Roman Empire signs. There were several In Roman we trust. He saw one When it Reigns, the fans score, and one that proclaimed Roman Reigns: Lesnar slayer and Shield destroyer.

The last sign made him pause, but he shook it off. He was sure it was a weird exaggeration by the fan; there was no way he would have destroyed the Shield. Right? ...Right?

He entered the ring and shook hands with Bryan. Roman was happy to see he was still on good terms with the leader of the Yes! movement.

"The following contest is set for one fall! And it is for the World Heavyweight Championship!"

Roman squared up with Bryan as the audience began a "Roman Reigns" chant, and he couldn't conceal his grin. He hadn't felt this loved and appreciated by the fans since...since he was in the Shield.

Throughout the match, the crowd gasped and cheered at all the right spots. They kept on igniting various chants in support of Roman, and at one point, a "This is awesome" chant began.

Marty leaned forward in her seat and smiled sadly at Roman as he finally pinned Bryan. As everyone jumped to their feet, she remained seated; in every other of her appearances, Marty very deliberately positioned herself to be seen by Roman. However, in this moment, she wanted to experience the atmosphere without being noticed. Roman stood carefully and the official raised his arm into the air; the Samoan had the biggest smile on his face. Marty sighed; she knew this would happen, and she knew how difficult, how impossibly unfair it was going to be for the man in the ring, who in that moment looked so happy. She sighed; she knew these things, but knowing them didn't make matters easier. No, knowing only made things worse, much worse.

Marty fiddled with something in her hands, and she closed her eyes. In one moment, she sat at the main event for the November 2, 2015 RAW with many people around her, but in the next, she was years away, sitting in a misty graveyard holding a long spindle in a loose grip with inevitability as her company.

Roman shook hands with Bryan again and slowly made his way backstage, stopping to talk with fans and sign autographs along the way.

After finally making his way backstage (because he had spent so much time interacting with the Universe), Roman couldn't wipe the goofy grin off his face. This timeline just felt right. Although, he was curious to see where Seth and Dean were. Maybe they were still tag teaming together, so they had an earlier match that night…He should find out where his brothers were. There was no doubt in Roman's mind his brothers were still extremely successful and thriving in the WWE.

The backstage area was buzzing with crew members, producers, other Superstars hanging around. Roman noticed Bryan, so with the title firmly over his shoulder, Roman walked over to where Bryan was talking to a crew member.

"Hey, Roman," Bryan said, cheerfully. "Good work out there."

"Thanks, I appreciate it, man. It was great working with you."

Bryan smiled. "I'm just going to head to the locker room and head out. Take care."

"Wait, you think Seth and Dean are in that locker room? Or would they have a private locker room. I wanted to talk to them."

Bryan gave Roman a weird look. "No, they're not there… See you around, Roman."

Roman frowned. That was odd… He spotted the couple from earlier who was assigned to his entrance mark. Sarah was playing with her hair and giggling as her partner, Andrew, was clearly hitting on her. Roman made his way over to them. "Excuse me."

The two stopped flirting and glanced over at Roman. Sarah looked very unimpressed, and Andrew gave Roman a dubious look. "Yeah?"

"Do you know where Seth and Dean are?"

Instantly, their expressions changed from annoyed to nervous. "Course not," Sarah responded. "Why would we know that?"

Roman frowned. "Is it just because you're not assigned to work with them…?"

The two exchanged looks, and Andrew said, "You could say that."

Sarah grabbed Andrew's arm and began to walk away. "Sorry, we have to go. There's so much to do tonight."

Bull shit, they had been wasting time before Roman walked over. Now he knew everyone knew something he didn't. For some reason the sign from earlier popped into his head. Roman Reigns: Lesnar slayer and Shield destroyer.

He hadn't destroyed the Shield, had he? Seth and Dean were still around: happy and successful, right?

He glanced around the room and noticed no one was making eye contact with him. He sighed and began to head over to his locker room. On his way, he ran into none other than Triple H.

To Roman's surprise and horror, Triple H clapped a hand on his shoulder and beamed at him.

"Roman! Good work out there, champ! No matter how much pressure we put on you, you still deliver. I couldn't have anyone more deserving to be my future successor. Good work, son."

Roman gaped at Triple H. Successor? Son? Him? No way in hell! He managed to nod slightly at the Game.

Triple H smiled and his normally cold eyes, emitted nothing but fondness for Roman. " I need to get going; you know Stephanie and how she is about schedules. We'll have to have you over again soon for dinner. Stephanie loved having you over last week. Take care now, Roman."

Roman nodded again and watched Triple H walk away. What had just happened? He blankly walked back to his locker room. Just as he finished changing out of his ring gear, there was a soft knock on the door.

Roman walked over and opened it to reveal Marie standing there, nervously studying her shoes. "Can I talk to you for a moment, Mr. Reigns?"

"Sure," Roman said as he let her in. "And it's Roman."

"I heard you were asking about Dean and Seth," Marie whispered.

Roman nodded. "I haven't seen or heard from them since getting here." He then realized how dumb that sentence sounded since Marie didn't know he was time traveling.

Marie gave him a funny look. "I didn't think you kept in contact with them at all really."

"Why wouldn't I keep in contact with them?"

Marie sighed and carefully sat down on the couch as Roman did the same across from her. "You didn't keep up with them at all after you ended the Shield, did you?"

Roman frowned and shook his head. Why did he always end up being such an asshole in each of these scenarios?

"Well, I guess that's where it all started when you ended the Shield," Marie said, thoughtfully. "It was such a brutal attack and then Hunter and Orton attacked, too. Dean and Seth never could regain momentum here in the WWE. They would end up jobbing a lot. It was a shame since they're so talented. It got to the point where the higher ups wanted to banish them to NXT. Not even to rebrand them, but just have them sulk around and serve as a reminder to the up and coming talent of what-not-to-be."

"You've gotta be kidding me," Roman said in almost a growl.

Marie shook her head. "Trust me; I wish I was. It was probably the biggest insult they could have gotten. Luckily, Seth still had connections on the Indy scene. Ring of Honor contacted him because his treatment here honestly pissed them off. They didn't think someone who was previously their company's top man should be hidden in WWE's developmental. Their talent relations guy called up Seth and gave him an offer, but Seth declined it, saying he couldn't abandon Dean. Within the hour, the guy called Seth back with the same offer, only with a matching one for Dean. So they accepted and left this company, riding off into the sunset and flipping off Hunter. They don't like people talking about it, which is why no one would answer your questions before."

"Wow," Roman said as he ran a hand through his hair. "I'm glad they got out of here when they could."

Marie raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "You're happy for them?"

Roman nodded. "Of course, I am. Developmental with no chance of being called back up would have killed them; it would've been like Purgatory." Roman sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a chance to talk to them…"

Marie frowned. "What would you say?"

Roman glanced at her. "I'd apologize. When I ended the Shield, I was acting on instinct; I didn't think about the consequences. I… I just want my brothers back."

Marie fidgeted slightly. "And you'd tell them that? You wouldn't hurt them again?"

"Of course," Roman said without a thought.

Marie was quiet. "So if they were hypothetically in the same town as us tonight, you would drop everything to go and apologize to them? Just like that? No doubts, no hesitations? You wouldn't hurt them?"

"Well, yeah… they're my brothers and…" Roman was quiet for a moment before he said, "You know where they are tonight, don't you?"

Marie bit her lip. "Yeah, I mean we're still friends, so I'll go see their shows when the tours matchup. They're actually in town tonight. They're taking part in a dark show in the city's limits. It's pretty low key; one of those you-have-to-be-on-the-list events."

"But you are on the list," Roman said, excitedly.

Marie nodded. "I'm always on the list."

"So you could get me in without a problem."

"Well...I could," Marie said. "I'm not sure if I should."

"Why not, babygirl?"

"You've hurt them, Roman. And I don't want to bombard them in what-should-be a safe place for them; ROH is their sanctuary."

"I won't make things worse. I want to try to fix things between us."

Marie was quiet for a moment as she studied him, intently before she said, "I'm going to trust you, Roman. Please, don't betray my trust." She sighed. "Change out of your ring gear and put on a hoodie. I'm parked out back, a blue Civic. I'll met you out there in ten. If you're not there, I'm leaving without you. And Roman don't screw this up again."

As Roman quickly changed, he began to doubt whether seeing Dean and Seth would help anything. The selfish part of him pointed out that aside from them not being in the WWE, he had everything he could ever want: great opponents, the title, adoration from the fans… What if the only way he could have this kind of success was to get rid of his brothers?

Roman shook his head; he wasn't going to go down that realm of thought. He grabbed his bag, pulled his hood up, and rushed to the parking lot. He spotted the blue Civic and saw Marie talking to Sarah through the open car window.

"I just really think this is an awful idea. I know you feel for the guy, but you're letting your personal issues cloud your judgement. Just because you wish your brother would get over himself and apolgize to you, doesn't mean you should do this. Think of what you're going to do! You want to take the freaking face of the company to a rival company's event! So he can talk to two guys who are on Vince and Hunter's shit list! If anyone sees you two there, you could get in serious trouble!"

Roman could hear Marie admit softly, "You're probably right...about everything. I'm probably being-"

"Overly quixotic," Sarah said, quickly.

Marie glared at her. "But I think he really wants to make things right...And I think he deserves a chance to at least say he's sorry."

Sarah sighed. "I'm just worried. You're my best friend. I don't want you to get fired over something so preventable."

"If it makes you feel better, I don't think there will be anyone there who'll want to rat me out."

Sarah snorted. "But I'm sure there will be plenty of people who'd want Mr. Asshole's head on a silver platter; it'll be like Salome dancing for the king to behead Jokanaan."

Marie stared at Sarah for a moment. "Oscar Wilde, really? Am I Salome in this scenario?"

Sarah grinned. "You're definitely not the creepy prophet or the king in the scenario. I'm just saying that you're putting him in a scenario where he can't win - despite your good intentions. And by the way, where is Fabio?"

Marie shook her head, fondly. She glanced past Sarah. "Oh, there's Roman."

Sarah pulled a face as she turned around and saw Roman. "Mr. Reigns," she said, primly. She glanced at Marie and said, "But just be carefull. If I have to bail you out of jail because those three kill each other...just call me before 3 AM."

Sarah shot Roman a suspicious look as she walked away. Roman sighed, and as he slid into Marie's blue Civic, he could admit to himself he didn't know what to expect.

Roman stared at the old barn in front of them as Marie parked her car in the empty pasture. "I think you have the wrong place…"

Marie raised an eyebrow. "No, it's just a couple of dark matches since they were in town for something on Sunday. A couple of the wrestlers stayed in town on their own time to put on some matches for fans to show their appreciation. Sorry if it's not up to the WWE standards."

Roman frowned. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just surprised. It's not like it's normal to have a show in a barn - seems a little bumpkin-like to me."

Marie glared at Roman and finally finding her confidence she said. "Do you want me to get you in or what?"

Roman sighed. "Of course. Just forget I said anything, please."

Marie rolled her eyes. "Fine, let's go." Marie tossed a baseball cap at Roman and got out of the car. "And try not to talk; we don't need anyone recognizing you."

Roman put on the hat and pulled up his hood as he stepped out of the car. He followed Marie to the barn doors where a large, bald man was standing with a tablet.

"Hi, Mark," Marie greeted, warmly.

The man frowned at Marie before his face broke out into a large smile, and he pulled her into a hug. "Marie! It's great to see you! I didn't think you'd make it out! Normally, your job never lets you get here before we're done."

Marie laughed. "I know. My bosses are total slave drivers. This is my cousin, Ryan."

"Nice to met you," Mark told Roman, who nodded in acknowledgement. Mark shook his head at Marie. "You aren't kidding about them being slave drivers, especially their golden boy. That pretty boy treats you like shit. How many times did he veto the last design for no reason? 10? 20?"

Marie blushed and quickly glanced at Roman before looking at Mark again. "Only 7..."

Mark snorted. "When are you going to quit and get a job with us? You know there are like a dozen people who would vouch for you, and you are more than qualified."

Marie smiled, sadly. "I know. I'll keep it in mind, Mark."

"Alright, sweetheart, just remember you have people here who care about you." He tapped the tablet with a stylus. "Okay, we have Marie plus a guest. Go on in. You're just in time to see your boys."

"Thanks Mark," Marie said, smiling, and she entered the barn, grabbing Roman's arm and pulling him along behind her.

Inside the barn, there was a squared circle, which looked very out of place in the wooden barn with bales of straw acting as the steps on the sides of the ring. Several dozens of people were either standing around the ring or sitting on bales of straw positioned around the ring.

"And fighting the Addiction, we have Calculated Madness!" The ring announcer said into the microphone.

Marie smiled and nudged Roman's side. "Here are our boys."

Sure enough, through the doors on the opposite side of the barn, Seth and Dean walked in. They were wearing matching T-shirts with their logo, a stylized rendition of their name, Calculated Madness in red font. The first word was very purposeful looking with firm, straight lines composing the letters while the second was composed of a slanted scrawl, which almost seemed to bleed into the red lines of the border around the logo. It was combination of formulated, cohesive design meeting the loss of regulations and the disregard for traditional guidelines.

"The marketing geek in me loves how they break so many rules when it comes to design. They have like ten different fonts in their logo, and normally that's awful since it looks cluttered and borderline schizophrenic. But here with Dean and Seth, it works well with their concept. They know what's expected of them, but they chose to ignore it, and since society labels what's normal and what's abnormal, they become insane because they go against societal norms. It's all about perception." Marie shrugged at Roman's raised eyebrow as she realized she was rambling.

Roman shook his head and scrutinized his brothers. They looked good. Aside from their shirts, they wore black leggings with typical wrestling boots. Seth had on his gloves while Dean wore his hands in his signature, taped-up style. But above all, they seemed at peace with each other.

Throughout the match, Roman allowed himself to be enraptured by the amount of sheer talent his brothers possessed. They worked together like a well-oiled machine. They didn't need to talk or even look at each other to know what the other was doing; they just knew. This strange, preternatural bond resulted in all of their movements being so graceful and so fluid that the match should have been considered a work of art, equivalent to Marius Petipa and Lev Ivanov's elegant choreography.

Even though it was a dark match that didn't hold any significance, the crowd was invested, completely. So when Seth and Dean stood triumphant after their pinfall, the crowd cheered the two anti-heroes, and the two brothers walked out side-by-side ready to face their next challenge.

Roman let out a breathe he didn't realize he was holding. He began hurrying to the back doors his brothers disappeared through.

Marie grabbed his arm. "Roman," she said in almost a hiss as to not alert anyone to his identity.

Roman shook her off and hurried through the doors. He glanced around and saw Seth and Dean off in the distance by a car, stretching to cool off their muscles. He quickly walked over to them. Roman opened his mouth to say something before he realized he had no clue what he was going to say.

Seth looked up from where he was messing with his phone. There was an amazing moment where his face was relaxed and open, but then his brow furrowed and he scowled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Dean looked up from where he was touching his toes; his face was devoid of emotion. Seth set one of his hands on Dean's arm. Roman couldn't tell if it was for comfort or to hold Dean back; if the latter was the reason, it seemed odd since the Lunatic Fringe hadn't reacted at all.

"I wanted to talk to you," Roman said, lamely.

"You wanted to talk to us?" Seth asked. He didn't want clarification, but he was merely throwing the statement out as though it was the most ludicrous notion in the world. "Hear that, Mox? Roman wants to talk to us." He laughed the same evil villain laugh he was famous for back in Roman's original timeline.

"Seth, I wanted to make things right between us-"

"It's Tyler Black now; Seth died a long time ago, and you don't get to decide to do that on a whim. Where were you after that RAW? Where were you when they decided to ship us back to NXT? Hell, I know where you were. You were too busy being the WWE's golden boy. Too busy being an asshole to everyone. Too fucking busy for us." Seth narrowed his brown eyes on Roman. "Well, you know what, Roman? We don't need you. We don't want you. So you can get the hell out of our lives and don't fucking look back."

"Seth-"

"Roman" Dean's tone was odd: a mixture of cold, hatred and complete bafflement. "Roman" It was as though Dean wanted to test out the waters by using his name. "Roman…" The two syllables were foreign, unfamiliar to the man. Dean began to ground one of his fists into his other palm, itching to feel blood vessels burst and bones break. "I've been itching to beat some sincerity into your face for a long time. How's that sound? You think the WWE would still want you if I rip your fucking face off?"

Seth tightened his hold on Dean's arm in a warning grip.

"No,Tyler, we should teach this scumbag a lesson, a painful reminder of why you never stab your brothers in the back cause that's the worst sin you can commit. You never betray your brothers." Dean's voice emitted in a guttural rasp that sent a chill down Roman's spine.

"You don't understand. I-"

"Shut up," Dean growled and he stepped forward. "I'm going to ki-"

"Mox," Seth said, lowly. "Let's go. He's not worth it. You know the company's policy on fighting out of the ring. Let's not lose our jobs over him of all people."

Dean continued to glare at Roman, but he nodded even though it seemed to take a lot for him to agree.

Seth threw an arm over Dean's shoulders and walked him back to the barn. Neither of them looked back, and Dean threw up a middle finger for good measure.

Dean and Seth hated him. He was the traitor in this world, not Seth.

Why couldn't he get anything to go right? Roman grabbed at his hair in frustration. No matter what he did, nothing turned out the way he wanted.

Finally, he was in a world where he was over. The fans loved him. He was champion. He was successful. He put on great matches with talented individuals. The crowd chanted his name. They didn't boo him.

But of course, things couldn't be that simple. His life was amazing… Well, it was amazing if he chose to ignore the fact that he was apparently Triple H's Golden Boy. That he had dinner with him and Stephanie on a regular basis. That he was apparently a terrible person to any of the staff. That he single-handedly destroyed the Shield and betrayed his brothers.

He- Roman Reigns- destroyed the Shield. He beat his brothers until he broke two chairs on their back. He lost all control, allowed the anger and thirst for vengeance overwhelm him and turn him into a psychopath, causing him to hurt the very family he was trying to save. He made Dean and Seth's lives in the WWE so miserable they jumped ship to another wrestling promotion where they gladly took the opportunity to reinvent themselves. He was the reason why they hated him; Roman caused all these problems.

It shouldn't be this difficult though, Roman thought. He did everything right. He talked to Seth when he was standing on the ledge. But that didn't work either time. Why the hell didn't it work?

Why?

Why?

There was a tightness inhabiting his chest that was making it difficult for him to breathe. Roman pulled out the watch and popped it open. Before he could think about what he was doing, Roman felt his arm raise and he chucked the watch. It flew through the air and collided face-first with an old, rusted plow.

The glass cracked.

Roman held back a scream. This whole situation was doomed from the start. Screw Marty and her watch. Screw this time traveling bullshit. Screw everything!

The second hand stopped ticking when it hit twelve.

It was the ultimate injustice. Here's a time traveling watch; go make things right, but wait, nothing will ever turn out right.

As soon as the second hand ceased motion, the minute hand began to sail around the watch face, unimpeded by anything.

All he wanted to do was fix things. It wasn't like he had evil intentions! By all things considered, he had noble intentions.

The hour hand stood firm until the minute hand made twelve complete revolutions; then it began to turn backwards.

Roman buried his face in his hands in frustration. Why couldn't he be with his brothers again?

He looked up when he heard a low hissing noise. His eyes zeroed in on the watch, which was emitting a golden light. Shit. He ran over to it and hesitated. Picking it up violated everything he ever learned in movies… It screamed bad idea to him.

All of a sudden, the clouds emitted thunder and it started to pour.

Roman glanced around in confusion. It had been a clear night… He warily glanced at the watch and reached down to pick it up. As his fingers closed around the burning hot metal, his body was jerked forward, and he landed on all fours.

Mud splattered into his face; he reached out to straighten himself, and his hands were having difficulty finding something to grab in the muddy grass. He grabbed the marble stone in front of him for a tether as he carefully wiped his eyes clear of the mud.

Marble stone…

Gone were all the cars parked in the field, gone were the wrestling fans and ROH employees milling about, and gone was the barn. Roman now sat in the middle of a graveyard with dozens and dozens of neat rows of headstones. A raven screeched at him from somewhere to his right; he couldn't see where the bird was perched. The night was too dark. The sky continued to drench him as it growled in anger.

Where the hell was he? He glanced down at the watch still gripped in his hand; he noticed its face was now dark and it was cool to the touch, a sharp contrast to how it scorched his palm earlier as it emitted to preternatural light. The glass held a thousand spiderweb cracks from where it shattered after he threw it.

Shit, he broke the watch.

A bolt of lightning stretched down from the clouds; the zig zagging strike mimicking the spiderweb of shattered glass on the watch with its many paths and chaotic pattern. The deafening boom of the lightning soon followed the bolt.

Using the light as his first real opportunity to get an idea of his surroundings, his head darted back and forth, not seeing any sign of a distant road or of any person. There was no sign of anyone, no sign of life, other than himself and the raven somewhere nearby.

There were only rows and rows of headstones, only grave after grave.

Did he travel forwards or backwards? Was this something from his past or from his future? He didn't remember being in such a bleak situation, and Roman had a feeling this scene would be impossible to forget. He really had no way of knowing if this was his future either. Or even if breaking the watch put him in some quasi-limbo.

There was nothing nearby to give him a clue to where or when he was, just rows and rows of death.

Where the hell was he? Would anyone find him? What if he was stuck here in this graveyard for the rest of his life? Roman felt his heartbeat pick up even more as the panic began to reach a boiling point.

Another bolt of lightning arched down from the sky, lighting up Roman's surrounding once again.

Roman took a deep breath to calm his panicking body; he needed to take control over the situation. He glanced at the gravestone on which he was leaning and then to the ones next to it.

His heart stopped.

Time froze.

No way. There was no way any of this was real.

Roman Reigns: May 25, 1985 - June 2, 2014

Dean Ambrose: December 7, 1985 - June 2, 2014

Seth Rollins: May 28, 1986 - June 2, 2014