Disclaimer: Oh, skip it, you know the drill.

OC's are my inventions and any resemblance to persons living or dead, real or imaginary is purely coincidental.

United We Stand

SmackDown, July 14, 2016

Seth was tired, but feeling better the next day when he reported to work again. It was the main event and SmackDown taping, again, normally the throw away show, but last week's SmackDown had done really well in the ratings. It was like people had realized the current storyline with Roman Dean and Seth would carry over to both shows, and they were right.

He was sitting at catering, alone, when Dan, head of creative came in. Roman and Dean had been elected for the meet and greet, one of the few things that the WWE was having problems with. People wanted to see the three of them together, like they had the night they had rescued the Millers. But again, as Roman put it, "Kayfabe is dead, except that it isn't," came into play. The solution the WWE had come up with, at least as far as the show went, was to not have the three of them together for meet and greet, but for other media? That was different. In fact, the three of them would be on two talk shows tomorrow in the next town they were going to for house shows. But for right now, Seth was without his brothers outside the ring.

"Here, Seth, I want to drop off the script," Stan said, dropping the papers on the table, then sitting down across from him.

Seth eyed Stan with suspicion. Usually, Stan wasn't even on the road, but worked out of Connecticut. But for this story, he was traveling along, hiding in the audience to get their reaction. Apparently, he had been given significantly more freedom than normally given on a story line and he was determined to prove the trust was worth it. But, there were other creative folks who always traveled, as well as interns. When it came to passing out scripts, that was usually the job of the lowest intern in the company, or, sometimes even some of the lower end wrestlers. For Stan The Man, as he was often called, to be hand delivering his script, something was up.

The script was in a binder, blue on the sides and back, clear on the front. The top page gave the date and that this was SmackDown. Wrestling scripts were different than other shows, lines were written, but they weren't important to be said exactly as written. Instead, they were more concerned that the idea of the story went across. Quite often, there were lines written, but there were notes saying what was important to carry across that night. More times than Seth could count, instead of memorizing lines, he had gone to the people he would be talking with, and they would work it out themselves instead. The WWE was figuring out that storylines and promos sounded best when the wrestlers put things into their own words.

Stan understood that, which was why he had been nicknamed Stan The Man, by some of the talent. Stan was good at giving lines that worked. People who could wing the story line? He wrote base lines, knowing they would enhance them with their own words and thoughts. Those who were strictly actors and not very imaginative ones? He wrote more elaborate lines that suited their ring personalities.

Seth studied the binder, but didn't open it. "Why do I rate a hand delivered script from the head writer himself?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded light and joking.

"Why not?" Stan said, smiling. "You, Roman, and Dean are the break out stars, the main storyline. The stars of the first storyline that I'm not constantly having to beg Stephanie, Hunter, and Vince to allow. I gave the script to Vince a few hours ago." Stan sat down in the chair across from Seth. "Do you know what Vince normally does to a script when I'm on the road? He reads it, marks it up, and sends it back to me a pen scrawled, highlight stained mess that I have to fix." Stan shook his head sadly, as if remembering many a masterpiece that had been lost. "If I'm back at HQ, he sends it to me via computer with the same mess on it. I curse the day that man learned how to edit in Office. Then, I go through the same thing with Hunter and Stephanie. Then, if I'm lucky, that's enough, but often, I have to then deal with the top talent coming to me all upset and I have to take their wishes into consideration. And when it's done? We start all over again."

"Uh huh," Seth said, opening the script and trying not to meet Stan's eyes. Seth had, on a few occasions, been one of the obnoxious talent who demanded changes be made.

"By the time it's all finished, I end up with a watered down version of what I intended," Stan said, looking slightly disgusted for all he had to put up with.

Seth had the feeling that if this storyline wasn't different from the usual, that if Stan hadn't been given the control he'd been given, that his voice would sound a lot less cheerful and a lot more petulant and whiny. Can't fault him for that, Seth thought, I've been pretty whiny myself when I've been given certain storylines. I've blamed Stan a lot too, when maybe that shouldn't be the case.

"But today?" Stan smile grew brighter. "Vince glanced at the script. I mean, I left, I always leave him alone with the script, but I was barely back to my makeshift office and Vince walked in, put the script on my desk pretty much untouched and said, 'looks good to me.' And if that wasn't enough, Hunter and Stephanie did pretty much the same thing. So far it's been a red letter day for the Creative department."

"So far?" Seth couldn't resist a smile, realizing what was going on here and why Stan had hand delivered the script. "Let me guess, you're hoping to get my stamp of approval on it, too."

"Can't blame a man for wanting to see a great day get greater, can you?" Stan asked.

At that, Seth chuckled, because it was simple and true. He opened the script and started skimming. Stan rose from the table without a word and went over to the catering area, where he helped himself to a bottle of water while Seth looked over the script.

Seth glanced over the script, having read enough of these to know how to skim them and still get the idea. The entire show was there, but his own pages had been marked off with stick on tabs so he could find them easily. He rushed through them, getting the feel for what would be happening. When he was finished, and looked up, he wasn't too surprised to see Dan sitting across from him again, calmly sipping his water. "Well," Seth said, that little smirk on his face, "at least the worst happens to me off stage and out of sight."

"Yeah," Stan agreed, "We figured that would be more dramatic. Does it bother you?"

"No," Seth shook his head as well, "My kid'll probably prefer it this way too. I'll still warn her tonight, but she won't watch it until Thursday, so she'll be fine."

"So, you're happy with it?" Stan asked, grinning. "No changes?"

"Nope," Seth grinned. "None at all."

Stan responded with a fist pump.

SmackDown

It was obvious by the way people were looking around at the entrances into the main arena, that most of the crowd was hoping to hear five letters from the phonic alphabet, and to see three guys walking through the crowd. So there were a lot of disappointed boos, when the show opened with the ring announcer proclaiming, "Ladies and Gentlemen, The Authority!"

Stephanie, Hunter, Kevin, Rhyno, Kane, Big Show, and J&J Security came out and stood at the top of the ramp for a moment, acting as if the crowd were cheering for them, instead of showering them with boos and catcalls. Then, Hunter and Stephanie turned, looking at the entrance back stage and then began motioning with their hands, indicating that they were trying to coax someone from back stage. After a moment, Seth came out, looking slightly nervous and relatively humble.

The crowd started cheering for him almost instantly. Seth looked up and smiled weakly, until Hunter frowned at him, while Stephanie glared at the crowd as if she would personally go and slap every person who dared to cheer for Seth Rollins. While the crowd did not seem to care, Seth put his head down again and followed everyone to the ring.

When they got into the ring, Hunter started to put his microphone to his lips and open his mouth, only to be interrupted by Kevin Owens. "Welcome, everyone!" he exclaimed in an over-the-top voice that could only be sarcastic in its over-enthusiasm. "To SmackDown!"

The crowd response was tepid at best. Many cheered, as they would any opening, but it was subdued and punctuated with a lot of boos.

Hunter looked at Kevin, eyes narrowed and started to say something, but just as he opened his mouth, Rhyno leaned over to Kevin's microphone, since he wasn't given one, and said, "Yeah! SmackDown!"

Kevin jerked the microphone away from Rhyno and glared at him. Rhyno looked puzzled for a moment, then looked around and saw everyone else in the ring was glaring at him. "Sorry boss," he said, shrugging and sounding quite happy, like being in trouble was nothing new.

"Ladies and Gentleman," Stephanie said, obviously smoothing over the gaffe, "Welcome, all of you, to SmackDown!"

There were a few cheers, and a little more excitement then when Kevin had said it, but Stephanie frowned, looking displeased at the lack of enthusiasm. "Excuse me, people, I said, 'Welcome to SmackDown!'"

The cheers grew slightly louder, mixed in with boos and Stephanie's frown deepened. She looked at Hunter, "Do you believe this crowd? They paid good money to be here, and," she paused to nod, brows raised, almost seeming to motion to the expensive and well fitting suit she was wearing, "As we all know, it isn't like the people of Detroit are made of money, right?" She gave a small laugh, as if she had said something so amusing that she couldn't stop herself.

Hunter joined in with a low chuckle, ignoring the boos and hisses that came from the crowd. "True!" Hunter said, holding his microphone in one hand and brushing off an imaginary crumb on his immaculate suit with the other. "You'd think the folks here would be happy to have something to cheer about, it's not like the Tigers are giving them anything to make them happy."

The boos became louder and lower, many people cupping their hands around their mouths to make their unhappiness even louder. It helped that the Tigers were having a rather poor year and had lost their last game spectacularly. Sports teams were like that weird uncle in your family, you could piss and moan about them all you wanted, but outsiders had better show respect. A young boy, standing in the front with his parents, actually wearing a Tigers ball cap, trilled out, "'Thoritiy stinks!" which the microphones caught. Stephanie rewarded the child with a look that would make ice burst into flames and the boy shrank back, leaning into his mother. But after the look, she ignored him. What most people in the audience didn't know, was that he was the son of one of the local promoters and this had all been set up earlier, right down to making sure there was a microphone near by to catch his shouting.

"Hunter, maybe it isn't SmackDown their booing," Stephanie said, her voice thoughtful, yet edged with sarcasm, as if she was only pretending this thought was just occurring to her. "Maybe it's us?"

The crowd cheered that statement, quite loudly.

"Us?" Hunter jerked back in mock surprise when most of the cheering stopped. "I can't believe it. Are you thinking people don't… respect the Authority?"

Again, more cheering.

"It would seem that way," Stephanie said, again shaking her head in mock sadness. "And it's such a shame. These people have so little to enjoy in their tiny, meaningless lives, I was really hoping we could bring them a little excitement, a bit of happiness." She paused to sigh, then her face brightened. "Oh, I know! Maybe they don't want you or I to welcome them. I mean, we probably remind them of their bosses, you know, our nice clothes, our fit bodies, expensive jewelry-"

"-Our mortgages that are paid on time," Hunter interjected, wearing a smirk. The boos in the crowd took on an almost dark edge.

"Right!" Stephanie agreed, looking at Hunter as if he had said something brilliant. "These people don't want to hear from the real power, they want to hear from… a hero." She said the word "Hero" the way a soccer mom would say the world "Pedophile," her nose curling up as if saying the very word even caused a stench to appear.

At this idea, Kevin, Big Show, and Kane frowned as if the word Hero was almost as offensive to them as well, or at least a ridiculous idea. Rhyno, on the other hand, grinned. Seth stayed, exactly as he had been, standing slightly apart from the group, eyes downcast, refusing to look up at the audience, only occasionally looking at Stephanie and Hunter with a wary expression.

"Why, I think you're right!" Hunter agreed, as if speaking to a not-very-bright child who finally managed to put the round peg in the round hole, "These folks want a hero to welcome them to SmackDown."

"And, as luck would have it, we have a hero right here, on stage with us!" Stephanie walked over to Seth, who looked at her and swallowed nervously. "Seth, you're the hero, right?" She continued to use the word Hero as if it were offensive. "I mean, you and your hero buddies, save that family, rushed into a burning house with no thoughts or concerns for your own safety and welfare. Why, you're the very definition of a hero!"

The crowd broke into cheering at the mention of the fire and Seth's role in turning it from a potential disaster, into a triumph. Seth, however, did not look as if this new found love was making him very happy at all. He allowed himself a brief look into the audience, where it appeared that his glance first caught a huge sign, which had a blown up version of "the" picture taken after the rescue. His eyes widened and he swallowed and forced himself to look at Stephanie, who was standing very close to him now, holding up the microphone. He shook his head.

"Oh, come on now, Seth," Hunter's voice was that perfect mock jovial tone he reserved for members of the roster he found particularly tiresome. "These people love you! They care about you! And if you care about them, you'll welcome them to SmackDown. Anything else would be rude!"

An internal struggle seemed to go on, a struggle the audience saw mostly in the titantron, via a close up of Seth's face. Finally, as Stephanie kept poking the microphone, closer and closer to his face, he cleared his throat and in a much weaker voice than he usually used, said, "Welcome to SmackDown."

The crowd cheered loudly, but Stephanie frowned as if the welcome had been greeted by chirping crickets. "I don't think they heard that, Seth. Let's try it again, with a little more enthusiasm this time."

Seth swallowed again, and drew himself up to full height, then repeated the greeting into the microphone. His voice was louder, but still far from excited. The crowd still cheered though, as if he were screaming at the top of his lungs.

"I still think he could do better," Stephanie said, looking at Hunter. "What do you think? Do you think Seth could do better?"

"I do," Hunter said, nodding.

"Maybe, Seth is lonely," Stephanie suggested. "Maybe Seth misses his friends. You know, the ones that helped him rescue the Millers." She frowned as if she was trying to remember Dean and Roman's names. "The ones that came to his rescue on Raw this week. You know who I'm talking about, right?"

The crowd was cheering and Hunter nodded. "I agree. Let's bring them out, too. Maybe Seth can relax if he has his real friends with him." He walked to the side of the ring closest to the ramp, and leaned into the ropes. "Roman! Dean!" His voice was loud, booming above the cheering crowd, the mock politeness gone. "Get out here, now!"

For awhile, nothing could be heard but the sound of the cheering crowd, then Roman's music began to play. Roman and Dean walked out together from backstage and paused at the top of the ramp, letting the crowd see them and letting the cheers get louder and more enthusiastic. They both glared at Hunter and Stephanie.

"Nice to see you," Hunter said, his tone not matching the words he spoke. "We need to talk. Get yourselves into this ring."

Roman and Dean looked at each other, shrugged and came down the ramp. While they didn't race down, they didn't creep either. They walked down at a steady pace and made their way into the ring. They both moved to stand by Seth, as if this was automatic. Stephanie, meanwhile, had motioned for someone to bring her two more microphones, which she handed to Dean and Roman, who took them as if being offered live, angry, snakes.

"So nice of you to join us," Stephanie said. "It seems your buddy Seth, over here, is having trouble finding his voice. And this crowd wants a welcome from a hero. Since you two are big heroes too, maybe you can do the honors and welcome then to SmackDown?"

Roman and Dean looked at each other and shrugged. "Sure," Dean said. And putting the microphones up to their mouths, in perfect unison, they exclaimed, "Ladies and Gentleman, Welcome to SMACKDOWN!"

The crowd broke into wild, screaming cheers, as if they had just been told that everyone who came tonight would be able to get all the free beer they wanted from the concession stand. Stephanie glared at Roman and Dean, as if this reaction displeased her. Roman and Dean grinned at each other, then looked to the crowd, who cheered even louder, as if the free beer offer was now backed with a ride home in a limousine in case they got too drunk.

"My," Hunter said, when the cheering died down enough so he could speak and be heard. "They certainly seem to like the three of you." He turned to Stephanie. "Don't they?"

"Yeah, I'll say," Stephanie said. "I guess it's this whole.. brotherhood thing, you know?" She looked from Dean and Roman back to Hunter. "I mean, they rescue a family together and on Monday, Roman and Dean here, rescued their long lost brother on Raw-"

"-Wait a moment!" Roman interrupted, his voice solid and strong. "It's not what you think."

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "Seth turned his back on our brotherhood that night when he went after us with steel chairs."

"That's right," Roman agreed. "You do remember that night, don't you Hunter?"

"I certainly do," Hunter said, "But maybe our audience needs a refresher course." On cue, the Titantron began playing a recap from the night Shield had broken up, when Seth attacked Roman first, then went after Dean with a folding chair. The audience booed loudly.

When it was over, Hunter turned his attention to Seth. "Do you remember that night?" he asked. "How happy you were to become part of the Authority? How excited you were to finally be going somewhere in this company? How you were eager to leave the dead wood behind?" He motioned to Roman and Dean as he said the words, "Dead wood." "Do you remember that, Seth? Do you?" He paused.

Seth let the pause drag out, then realize he had to answer. He nodded, still nervous and swallowed. "Yes," he finally managed to say.

"Are you sure?" Stephanie asked. "Because you haven't been acting like you're a member of the Authority lately. And your brothers over here seem to have gotten awful… close to you again."

"We told you," Dean said, before Seth could speak. "It's not what you think. We're not brothers, Seth ended that. We only came to his rescue Monday because you guys took things too far!"

"Yeah," Roman agreed, nostrils flaring slightly. "We get it, you guys were upset with Seth, but you took it way too far. You were behaving like you were going to kill him."

"Yeah," Dean nodded to Roman before turning to Stephanie and Hunter, "We're not going to let you kill him. He may not be our brother now, but he was at one point. He saved our asses more than once, we both agreed we needed to return the favor."

"Oh, I see," Hunter said, nodding, looking as if he did not really see at all. "Well, maybe the three of you should work together more often, you know? It might be good for you, just in case there's another house on fire you need to rush into. It's always good to be on the same page, right?"

Even Seth looked at Hunter at this, knowing whatever Hunter was planning, it wouldn't be good. "What are you saying, Trips?" Dean asked, his tone surly.

"Battle Grounds is this Sunday," Hunter said. "And so far Seth, doesn't have a match."

"That's true!" Stephanie said, her tone one of mocking surprise. "In fact, if I remember correctly, Kane and Big Show here, don't have matches, either!"

"An oversight, we assure you," Hunter said, then turned his attention back to Roman, Dean and Seth. "So, to give the three of you a chance to practice at this… hero thing you're all so fond of, how about we have a three against four tag team match at Battlegrounds!"

The crowd cheered, but there was a slight hesitation to it. Roman, Dean, and Seth exchanged looks. "Wait a moment," Roman said. "That's four against three, that's not fair."

"Really?" Stephanie looked surprised. "Are you saying that three big strong heroes like you can't handle it?"

"Of course we can!" Dean said, looking scornful. Seth, on the other hand, didn't look so confident.

"Dean's right, we can handle it," Roman said. "But that doesn't make it fair."

Hunter appeared to think about this for a moment, then nodded. "Maybe you're right," he said. "So, I'll tell you what. Tonight, Roman, for the main event, you have a match against Sheamus. If you win, you can pick any member of Team Authority to be excluded from the match."

He paused to let the crowd cheer, then his eyes narrowed as he continued. "But if you lose? Then Sheamus joins the match too. Then it's five against three. Does that sound more fair?"

Roman, Seth, and Dean all went wide eyed. Dean opened his mouth as if to tell Triple H off, but Seth slammed his hand over Dean's mouth quickly. "It's-it's fair," he stammered.

"Good," Hunter smiled, good humor apparently restored. "But, I have one other stipulation."

"What's that?" Roman asked, glaring at him.

"If Seth or Dean are found anywhere near the ring tonight during your fight, then Sheamus automatically wins."

"I don't believe what we just heard," Micheal Cole almost seemed to stammer, in what would be after a commercial break when SmackDown was on TV.

"Me either!" JBL chimed in. "Do you believe how generous Hunter is? If Roman wins that match, he can pick any person he wants from the Authority and eliminate them from their match at Battlegrounds! What a considerate thing for him to do!"

"But if Sheamus wins, then it becomes five against three!" Byron Saxton pointed out.

"I'm glad you've learned basic math, Byron," JBL retorted. "Yes, four plus one equals five."

"Five against three isn't very considerate or generous," Cole interjected.

"Then Roman better win," JBL said, and while the cameras were panning into the audience, you could hear the shrug in his voice. "If Roman were a real man, he'd thank Hunter and Stephanie for giving him this opportunity to shine."

"What about the rule that if Dean or Seth are seen at the ring, it's an automatic disqualification?" Cole asked.

"If Roman can keep his friends from sticking their noses in where it doesn't belong, then there's no problem, is there?" JBL shot back.

"I noticed nobody in the Authority are forbidden from the ring," Saxton said.

"Of course not," JBL said, scorn tainting his voice as if he was disgusted he had to pretend to be having an intelligent conversation with these two idiots. The Authority doesn't have to make rules like that. They know how to police their own. It's renegades like Dean and Seth that have to be watched out for. They're the ones that break rules all the time."

"Isn't Seth a member of the Authority?" Cole asked.

JBL didn't miss a beat, "Yes, but he's obviously under a bad influence by the company he's been keeping. The Authority is fixing that. Giving him another chance to show him his mistakes and correct them."

Cole opened his mouth to speak, but then Nikki Bella's music started and he closed it, as the ring announcer told everyone that Nikki, accompanied by Brie, was making her way to the ring.

There was a promo that night, just before Dean went out for his match that night, which was to be against Big Show. "So," Renee asked, "Roman, you'll be facing Sheamus tonight, and if you win, you get to remove whoever you wish from your handicap match with Dean and Seth at Battlegrounds."

"That's right," Dean interjected, speaking for Roman. "My brother is gonna send one of those guys packing!" He looked at Roman. "Which one?"

"But," Renee continued, taking back the microphone. "If you lose, then Sheamus gets to join Team Authority, then it will be five against three."

"That's a big if," Roman said.

"Personally? I'd pick Kane," Dean said, looking thoughtful. "That demon stuff can be pretty vicious. On the other hand though, Corporate Kane is just a big wuss, so maybe not."

Roman shot dean a look of slightly irritated amusement.

"How do you feel about the rule that if Dean or Seth are caught anywhere near the ring during the match, it's an automatic win for Sheamus?" Renee asked.

"Kevin Owens would be a good one to get rid of too," Dean was saying, as if Renee and Roman weren't trying to have an interview. "He eats a little too much pie, if you know what I mean, but he's tough and he knows how to use that beer baby belly to his advantage. It's a weight thing."

"I'm not worried," Roman said, confidentially. "Dean will be leaving the arena right after his match with Big Show tonight, won't you Dean?" He turned to look at his brother.

"Of course, Rhyno might be a good choice too," Dean mused, obviously not paying any attention to the interview. "He's a brute and if that gore connects, you're a goner."

"Dean!" Roman's voice was slightly sharp.

"What?" Dean looked around as if confused, then grinned. "Yeah, right after the match, I am out of here. No chance of me coming to the ring. I'm going to go to the bar down the street, order us a couple of ice cold beers and wait for my brother to come and tell me which one of the Authority won't be up against us at Battlegrounds!"

"And what about Seth?" Renee asked. "Are you worried he might show up?"

"Not a chance," Roman said, with a slight roll of his eyes. "First, the Authority has him on such a short leash, he's probably hiding in his dressing room. Second, he's not going to risk a five on three handicapped match for Battlegrounds. He's not that stupid."

After winning the match he had with Big Show, they showed Dean getting into his rental car and leaving the arena.

"Making his way to the ring now," Lilian Garcia cheerfully informed the crowd, "From Pensacola Florida, Standing 6' 3" tall, weighing 265, Roman Reigns!"

The cheers for Roman as he made his way to the ring were almost louder than his theme music. His passage down the stairs was greeted with fist bumps and pats to the back, which he returned when he could, but there was a look of fierce determination on his face, as if he was determined to do anything and everything to make sure he won this fight, that he understood, just how much was at stake here.

Sheamus was already in the ring, having been announced first. He stood in his corner with a smug, bored expression as if Roman Reigns was a mere blip in the radar of his greatness. When Roman paused on the stairs to flip his hair back and raise his fists in victory, Sheamus did a quick, less-than-flattering imitation, complete with a rolling of his eyes as if to say, "Stop your grandstanding man, and get in the ring so I can kick your arse!"

"Roman has a heavy burden on his shoulders tonight," Cole commented as Roman stepped into the ring. "This fight will determine if his match at Battlegrounds will be three on three, or a five on three handicapped match."

"That's right," Saxton enthusiastically agreed. "There's more riding on this match than a victory, this could be the deciding factor on how Roman, Dean, and Seth will fare at Battleground this Sunday. Do you think he's feeling the pressure?"

"He's got to be," Cole said.

"Oh please," JBL said, sounding miffed. "It's his own fault he's in this situation, don't feel sorry for him!"

"How is this his fault?" Cole asked.

"He and Dean should have been more respectful when they were called out earlier."

"What did they do wrong on the show opening?" Saxton asked, sounding baffled. "Triple H called them out, and they came out, what else were they supposed to do?"

"They came out slowly," JBL said, with a dismissive wave of his hand, that the camera caught. "They were surly about it, That was very disrespectful."

"Disrespectful?" Cole said, his voice tinged in disbelief. "Were we watching the same thing?"

"Of course we were," JBL said. "But you just didn't see the truth, because you're blind as a bat."

The cameras caught Micheal Cole pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, from where they had slipped.

As the match started, Sheamus powered out, seeming determined to take Roman down and out as fast as he could. While normally saved as Finisher move, he ended up giving Roman a solid Brogue Kick, only minutes into the match, which sent Roman flying back into the ring post, where his head snapped back and appeared to hit the ring posts. Roman fell forward, face first on the mat, his body rose once from the force, then hit the floor of the mat and lay still.

"That's what I love about a wrestler like Roman," JBL's voice was positively gleeful, "when he falls, he bounces!"

Sheamus looked almost shocked for a moment, as if he couldn't believe this was happening so fast. Then he pounded his chest with one arm, the other high in the air. Most of the crowd booed angrily, although there were a few cheers. Sheamus ran over, flipped Roman over and went for the pin.

"One! Two!" The referee shouted, but just as his hand was coming down for the three count, Roman pushed Sheamus off of him. A close up of Sheamus' face showed he was disgusted and annoyed that this quick and easy victory had been pulled from his grasp. Roman rolled into a sitting position and blinked rapidly, looking dazed as if he didn't quite believe he had managed to get out of that one.

Before Roman could seemingly catch his breath, Sheamus went over and grabbing him by the hair, hauled him to his feet and kneed him in the stomach. Roman bent over from the force and for a moment, the color almost seemed to drain from his face and he looked as if he might vomit.

The crowd seemed mostly unhappy at this apparent slaughter of Roman, but Sheamus acted as if boos were cries of adulation. He continued to go after Roman mercilessly, refusing to let Roman catch his breath and get his bearings. Blow after blow, kick after kick, he delivered to the Powerhouse, and then, sent him over the ropes. Roman slammed off the barricade so forcefully that the people standing near it seemed almost to vibrate with the force. Then he rolled, not just up to the ring apron, but under it.

Sheamus didn't notice Roman had rolled out of sight, he was too busy pounding his chest and grandstanding as if again, he knew he had won. When the referee frowned at him, Sheamus shrugged as if to say, "C'mon, face it, I won. Might as well just say I won, right?" When the referee frowned, Sheamus reluctantly slid out of the ring.

When he got to the side where he had thrown Roman, he looked around, bewildered that Roman was out of sight. He looked about for a bit, then strutted around the corner to the side closest to the announcer tables, again looking about, thinking Roman might have made it over there to lick his wounds. When he didn't see Roman, he made his way to the other side. Just as he was by the corner ring stairs, Roman flew out from under the ring and did a flying tackle into Sheamus' back, slamming him into the steel stairs. Sheamus' belly hit the edge of them, and he fell forward, his face smashing into the steel. When he lifted his head, there was a small trickle of blood coming from his nose.

The crowd cheered loudly and enthusiastically, clearly pleased to see Roman finally getting one off on Sheamus.

"Do you believe that?" JBL exclaimed.

"Looks like Roman was down, but not out!" Cole said, sounding much more positive about this turn of events.

"Poor Sheamus," JBL said. "He doesn't deserve this brutality."

Roman straightened out and raised his fists, pandering to the audience, showing them that he had his second wind and he would take care of this snotty red hair problem, post haste.

The referee moved over to the ropes and began a count out. "One! Two!"

On the count of five, Roman grabbed Sheamus, who was still slumped over the stairs, looking dazed, and threw him into the ring. On the count of six, Roman himself rolled into the ring. Sheamus had rolled away and managed to stagger to his feet, some of the blood from his nose had dripped down to his chest. With his extremely pale skin, and the bright lights, the blood seemed somehow more colorful, like the red of a child's toy and for some reason, that made it even worse to see.

The crowd, however, did not seem to have much sympathy for Sheamus and his nose. A chorus of boos broke out as he staggered about.

Roman rolled to his knees, staring at Sheamus as if he were hunter and Sheamus was prey. Sheamus' back was to him and Roman looked at his hand for a moment, as if he was finally realizing he had a powerful weapon in his arsenal. With a grin that made the audience cheer even louder, he slid his other hand down his wrist and curled the hand into a fist, which he brought forward and pounded onto the mat. The crowd cheered, certain that they were going to see a Superman punch delivered.

Then, Kane's music filled the arena, bringing everything to a crashing halt.

"Kane?" Cole said, his voice tinged in disbelieve as the cameras panned to the top of the ramp, which was empty.

"He's probably got an important announcement to make," JBL said.

"Now?" Byron questioned.

"He's a busy guy," JBL said. "He's got to fit things in when he can."

The crowd went silent and all that could be heard was Kane's music. Everyone's gaze was fixed on the top of the ramp, wondering what was going on, pretty sure this would not be good news for Roman.

Then, Kane came from around the back. But he wasn't in his common, business suit, nor was his face bare. Instead he wore a new costume, similar to the one he wore as the Big, Red Machine, but different, too. The black material looked almost inky, and moved with his body as if it weren't really material, but an alien life form that had attached itself to his body. There was much less red on this costume, but what their was, seemed to be almost brilliant, as if it took the darkness from the black and turned it into a glow.

The mask was back, but it too had undergone a transformation, appearing to be made out of the same, faintly sentient seeming material as the rest of his costume. It covered most of his face, except for his eyes, and there were slashes of red in it, that almost looked as if Kane had tried to claw it off, but the alien life form that had possessed it had been able to fight him off, possess him and all that remained was blood. The costume spoke of a struggle between the Demon and the executive, and the executive had lost, badly, possibly destroyed forever.

And while the costume was enough to make people gasp, the true horror was what he carried. Cradled in his arms, as if he were naught but a sleeping child, was Seth Rollins. His head was flopped over the big man's arms, eyes shut, hair hanging. His feet were dangling over the other arm, so limp that it almost seemed as if they were dangling in the breeze. When the cameras zoomed in, the audience could see on the titantron, angry red marks on Seth's neck and forehead, but other than that, nothing to indicate a struggle. No puffiness, no blood, with the exception of the red marks, Seth looked untouched, almost blemish free. It gave an eerie feeling to the whole picture, as if Seth hadn't been beaten, but caught unaware and part of his life force drained from his body by means no one knew.

Silently, all eyes upon him, especially Sheamus and Roman's, Kane made his way down the ramp, slowly, steadily, as if he were delivering a very important package. Even the announcers were quiet.

When he got to the edge of the ring, he tossed Seth over the top rope, as easily as he would have tossed a bag full of paper into a dumpster. Seth hit the floor of the ramp with a thud that was heard by everyone. Then, without a sound, he turned and headed back up the ramp.

When Kane's back was to the ring, that seemed to break Roman out of whatever spell Kane had put on him, and he rushed to Seth, kneeling beside him and cradling him in his arms, his expression reminiscent of how a young boy might cradle his beloved dog who had just been hit by a car.

The arena remained silent. Even the announcers said nothing. They didn't have to recap, everyone got the message loud and clear.

Seth was in the ring, Roman had lost the match.

End of Chapter Six.