Kings and Soldiers

by MedlinTauroniell

(sequel to Monday, Monday - Can't Trust That Day) The Shield and their ally Carly Caden have been a thorn in the Authority's side for too long. When Triple H re-forms Evolution, the Shield will stop at nothing to ensure that justice prevails. But the price of victory may be too high, and the pursuit of it may threaten to tear the Shield apart for good.

16. Only Words

Only Words

Carly tried to keep busy when she got home. She did laundry, did the dishes, cleaned her apartment, anything to keep herself from just sitting and thinking. She didn't know why she'd kept the Shield patch she'd torn off of Seth's vest. A few times she got very close to burning it or throwing it away, but she just ended up shoving it in the back of the junk drawer in her kitchen. Every now and then she'd get a text from one coworker or other. They'd express condolences, denounce Seth's behavior with due shock and outrage. Carly replied much the same way to all of them, thanking them for their concern and assuring them that she was alright.

She wasn't alright. She hoped Dean and Roman were doing better than she was. No, she was certain they were. They knew how to look after each other.

Carly knew she'd been right to refuse Roman's offer. They'd just lost their brother, someone they'd been close to for years. The way she felt couldn't compare with the way they did. Still…

Carly thought she'd be alright on her own. At the very least, she thought she'd be able to sleep. But hour after hour dragged past as she lay there all night until dawn, unable to shut her mind up. Her thoughts hovered and circled around the questions she could not answer. It reminded her of the story of Noah on the ark, sending out a crow to search for dry ground, but it kept coming back to the ark since it didn't have a place to land. And Carly knew things were getting bad when she started coming up with stupid analogies like that.

She made it until Wednesday afternoon before the idea of being alone with her thoughts for the rest of the week was too much for her. Carly quickly grabbed her phone and called Roman before she had a chance to talk herself out of it.

"Hello?" he said.

He'd picked up on the first ring. Oh, it was good to hear his voice.

"Hey, Roman, it's just me. I was wondering if, uh…" Carly swallowed hard, tried to steady her voice, "If that offer is still good?"

"You get on the next flight down here, alright?" Roman answered without hesitation, "You're gonna spend the weekend with us. Text me when you know what time the flight'll get in, and I'll meet you at the airport."

Carly was hardly able to stammer out a thank-you and a promise that she'd let him know as soon as she knew. She hurried to get her things together. It was selfish, probably, accepting Roman's invitation. They may not need her right now, but she needed them.

xXx

It was nearly midnight when Carly's plane touched down. She felt bad about keeping Dean and Roman up that late, but her worries were eased when she saw them. They looked much better than they had on Tuesday morning. (Thank God for their infinite resilience.) There was life in their eyes again, and they both smiled when they saw her.

In spite of her protests, they insisted on helping to carry her things. Dean was apparently feeling well enough to give her a hard time about how heavy her suitcase was, so that was a relief. They would've stayed up later, but Carly was adamant that they get some sleep, and that (as the shortest) she would be perfectly comfortable sleeping on the couch. They could talk more tomorrow.

Jet-lagged as she was, Carly still couldn't sleep. She felt she'd wear a hole in her mind pacing around these thoughts of Seth. She tried sitting out on the little balcony for a while, but it was another warm and breezy night, and Cassiopeia was flickering at her on the horizon, and the harrying sense of a void beside her eventually drove her back inside. She went back to the couch and watched the pale sky brighten impatiently. Eventually, it was too much to just sit there, so she got up, took a shower, and got dressed.

It would be a while before Dean and Roman woke up, she knew. Even though they were both sound sleepers, Carly didn't want to risk waking them by turning on the TV. She should've thought to bring a book or something. She needed to do something with her hands, or she was going to go crazy.

Breakfast. Now there was an idea. She didn't feel right about ransacking Roman's pantry, but she was certain she'd seen a little grocery store down the street.

By the time Roman stepped out of his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Carly had amassed a large stack of pancakes (fried in oil so the edges would be nice and crispy) and a heaping plate of bacon. She'd set both in the oven to stay warm and started a pot of coffee, and was now working on a large frying pan of what would soon be scrambled eggs.

"Morning," she said, pausing only long enough to smile at Roman.

"Morning," he said.

He stood and watched her, confusion creasing his forehead as he blinked sleepily. Carly set down the coffee mugs she'd found and looked back at him, suddenly feeling a little guilty. Here she thought she'd been doing so good at being quiet.

"I'm sorry. Did I wake you up?" she asked.

"Oh, no," Roman shook his head, "This is when I usually get up. It's just… Carly, why are you making food?"

"There's this thing called 'breakfast.' Maybe you've heard of it," Carly said lightly.

"Yeah, I know that," said Roman, laughing a little, "But-"

Dean made his entrance at that moment, stumbling out of the guest room, yawning loudly and stretching like a cat. He squinted against the brightness of midmorning and ran a hand through his hair.

"Hey, Roman," he said, "Why does it smell like…"

He trailed off, staring in surprise at the large plates full of food that Carly was setting out on the counter.

"…bacon and coffee," Dean finished, "What's all this?"

"Breakfast. Maybe you've heard of it," said Roman.

Carly giggled. She switched off the coffee maker and started slicing grapefruits in half and sprinkling them with sugar.

"Don't be a smart-ass this early in the morning," Dean said, wrinkling his nose, "At least wait until I have some coffee."

"She started it," Roman said innocently.

"Sarcasm or breakfast?" asked Dean.

"Yes," said Roman.

He shoved a plate into Dean's hands and began dishing up food for himself. Dean shrugged.

"Works for me," he said.

Roman turned on the TV to some gameshow or other for background noise as they sat down at the table to eat. Dining room tables seemed a little formal to Carly. She hadn't had much occasion to use one in college, and even less when she was on the road for work. But with Dean and Roman this morning, it felt oddly comfortable.

"Food's great, by the way," said Dean, "Roman, you have to invite Carly over more often."

"You insulting my cooking?" Roman feigned offense, "Everything is delicious, Carly. But is that all you're gonna eat?"

He indicated the bowl of grapefruit Carly was picking at. In all fairness, it did look pretty meager compared to the gigantic portions he and Dean were putting away.

"Yeah," said Carly, "I ate while I was cooking."

She wasn't about to clarify that she had only eaten one slice of bacon. She just wasn't feeling all that hungry. She hadn't all yesterday, either. But she didn't want to mention it and make them worry.

"Oh no you don't," said Roman, stopping Carly when she tried to gather up the dishes, "You cooked. Me and Dean can get things cleared away."

"But-" said Carly.

"Quiet," Dean interrupted, "It's only fair, y'know."

Carly was grateful that they wanted to help, she really was. But she started sinking the moment she stopped keeping busy. She didn't know what she was going to do with herself when Roman announced that he and Dean were going to go for a run before it got too hot outside. She said she'd be fine on her own, though. She'd watch TV until they got back or something.

xXx

Carly heard the front door open a little over an hour later. She hastily shoved the bottle of Windex back under the bathroom sink and walked out to the living room. Dean was leaning against the counter, but Roman had paused in the entryway. He looked around and sniffed the air.

"Carly," he said slowly, "Have you been cleaning my apartment?"

Carly gave an awkward laugh. So much for being sneaky about it. Of course they could still smell the soap, and that weird, unmistakable vacuum-cleaner scent.

"Yeah, sorry…" she said, hanging her head sheepishly, "I was just gonna straighten stuff up in the living room, and I got a little carried away."

"You do realize that you're my guest, right?" said Roman, "You don't have to earn your keep."

"I know that," Carly faltered, "I just don't like doing things halfway."

"Clearly," Dean said flatly, "Roman, I think she alphabetized your DVDs."

Dean and Roman refused point-blank to let Carly make lunch. Again, this was sweet, and extremely unhelpful. They hypocritically almost banned her from doing dishes afterwards, but Carly put her foot down. Dean was more or less amused by her insistently energetic housekeeping. Roman, on the other hand, kept shooting half-concerned glances in her direction. Carly would've been worried that she was overstepping herself, taking over his kitchen and all, but she knew Roman. He wouldn't be shy about telling her to stand down if he really meant it.

They somehow ended up playing board games in the afternoon. Surprisingly enough, Dean won both rounds of Scrabble by making the impressive use of the multiplier spaces. Carly was too busy trying to come up with fancy words to worry about the scores, and Roman got stuck with all the Q's and X's and V's and other useless combinations of letters. He eventually demanded that they switch to Yahtzee, in hopes that he would fare better with a game that was almost pure luck.

In order to feed the two ravenous hounds, Carly made a massive quantity of spaghetti for supper. She had to chase Dean out of the kitchen multiple times. He seemed to like watching her cook, and trying to snitch food while her back was turned. Carly let Dean and Roman get started eating while she put the kitchen back in order. They were already on their second platefuls when she sat down. Carly avoided making eye contact with Roman. She knew he was giving her a pointedly judgmental stare as she dished up a small portion for herself.

"Is that all you're gonna eat?" he asked.

"You sound like my Italian grandmother," said Carly, wrinkling her nose, "I'm just not that hungry. It's too hot outside to be hungry."

Thankfully, she was spared further debate by the text alert sound from her phone. Carly looked down to read the message from Dolph Ziggler.

the rat bastard is talking shit in an interview with cole on the website, it read, I don't know if I'd advise watching it. just thought you'd want to know.

"Who's that?" Dean asked around a mouthful of spaghetti.

"Just a text from Dolph," said Carly, "It's nothing."

They'd all been avoiding mentioning Seth, and Carly certainly wasn't going to bring him up in the middle of dinner. Still, she wondered what he had to say for himself. At the same time, she didn't think she wanted to hear it.

"That's not a 'nothing' face, Carly," said Roman, his brows furrowed, "What's going on?"

Carly reluctantly passed her phone to Roman. Dean leaned over to read the text as well, and both their faces darkened. Dean's fork clattered onto his plate. Roman hurriedly returned the phone and shoved his chair back.

"I'll get my laptop," he said.

Within minutes, the three of them were huddled on the couch, staring at the screen. It turned Carly's stomach to see his face, so calm and unconcerned and smug. Roman's jaw tensed up, and Dean's hands twitched violently as Michael Cole asked the question that had haunted them all week: why did he do it?

"So everybody wants an explanation," said Seth, "You wanna know why I did what I did to my brothers on Monday night? So let me tell you that the only person who knows why I did what I did on Monday, and the only person who needs to know, and the only person that I owe anything to, is me."

Mr. Cole made very little attempt to hide his disgust, staring evenly at Seth Rollins.

"Aren't you the least bit concerned about the consequences of your actions?" he asked, "I mean, you can't expect Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns to take this lying down."

"Michael," Seth chuckled, "I'm not in the least bit worried about those two. You've seen them, right? Dean Ambrose is a lunatic. He's barely able to function on his own. Seriously, the guy's psyche is held together scotch tape and paper clips. It's pathetic. It's only a matter of time before he ends up committed to an insane asylum for his own safety. And Roman Reigns? Roman Reigns is a tank, a war-machine, a mindless force of destruction. And without somebody to control him-"

"Shut it off," said Dean, his voice low and strained, "Damn it, shut it off right now!"

Roman snapped the laptop closed and shoved it aside, agitatedly rubbing his hand over his mouth. They sat in silence. Carly scarcely dared to breathe. Suddenly, Dean pushed himself to his feet and stormed out the front door, slamming it shut. Roman was after him in an instant.

"I've got him," said Roman, "Just stay here, Carly."

And then Roman was gone, too. Carly stood numbly, went to the kitchen, and began cleaning up. She needed to keep moving, keep busy.

How could he? How could he say those awful things? Seth would never call Dean pathetic, not even when they argued. And then to say that Roman was nothing more than a weapon. Had Seth really been just using them this whole time? If that was true, then it would make everything else Seth had done and said a lie. Carly felt sick just considering that.

It was nearly half an hour before Dean and Roman came back. Carly watched them warily. She had no idea what Roman could've said to talk Dean down, but it must've worked. Dean did not look blank or sad, not anymore. Instead, that fiercely eager light was in his eyes. He turned to Carly, his mouth twisted into a mirthless grin.

"We're gonna take him down," he said fervently, "We're gonna make him pay for what he did. Are you with us, princess?"

Carly reached out to both of them, and felt their strong hands close around hers. She looked from the stern composure in Roman's eyes to the zealous fire in Dean's. She would do whatever she could to help them, to protect them. She would see that justice was served if it was the last thing she did.

"I'm with you," she said.

xXx

The couch was actually pretty comfortable. It would've been great for sleeping, if Carly had been capable of doing so. Just like the past few nights, her mind refused to shut down and let her get any more than ten minutes of sleep at a time. She figured there was no sense fighting it. She just laid there and tried to think of anything but Seth. That went as well as could be expected.

She killed about half an hour by thinking about how dry her throat felt before finally giving in and getting a glass of water. As she stood in the kitchen, debating whether or not it was worth it to go lay down again, Carly heard the sound of rustling sheets and angry muttering coming from the guest room. She wondered if Dean was still awake. Or maybe he was just dreaming. She was quietly starting down the hall when a pillow came flying through the open doorway and hit her in the stomach.

Carly stifled a startled yelp. It was almost completely dark in the hall, so there's no way Dean could've thrown that at her intentionally. Carly picked up the pillow, went to the doorway, and peered inside. In the patch of golden light that streamed through the window above the bed, Carly could see Dean lying on his back, his hands reached up to grasp the pillow beneath his head. He stared up at the ceiling and sighed heavily. So he was still awake.

"Was it something I said?" Carly asked softly.

Startled, Dean pushed himself upright to look towards the door.

"Carly?" he whispered.

She stepped into the room, holding up the pillow.

"I don't know what you were throwing this at, but you got me," she said.

"Oh, sorry," Dean grimaced, "I wasn't throwing it at anything. I was just, y'know, throwing it."

"What are you still doing awake?" said Carly.

"Can't sleep," Dean answered unhelpfully.

Dean never had trouble sleeping. If something was keeping him up, it was serious, and Carly was pretty sure she knew the reason. But asking him about it straight on was out of the question. He'd just shut down or avoid the subject. Better to take an indirect approach.

Carly went over to the bed. She gently brushed Dean's hair back and felt his forehead.

"Are you not feeling well?" she asked.

"I'm fine," said Dean. He lay back down and resumed his staring at the ceiling, folding his hands over his chest, "I'm not sick."

Then he was silent. So much for the indirect approach. But Carly didn't want to leave him just yet, not when something clearly had him upset. She perched on the edge of the bed.

"Dean," she said, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's alright. I'm never going to try to force something out of you. But I'm here if you ever need me. I just want you to know that, okay?"

For a moment, Dean said nothing. He didn't even look at her. Carly was just about to get up and leave him in peace when he finally spoke.

"I'm not sick," he repeated quietly.

Carly stared at him. There was a sort of anguished, earnest desperation in his voice, an almost childlike insistence, as he continued.

"There's nothing wrong with me," he said, "I'm not an idiot. I'm not sick. I'm not crazy."

Something in the way Dean said that made it sound like he was reciting a mantra. Carly wondered just how long he'd been telling himself that, and just how many times he'd repeated it. The thought pierced straight through her heart. When she reached out and laid her hand on his chest, Dean's gaze finally turned to her face.

"Of course not," she said ardently, "I know that. Roman knows that."

"I thought he knew that, too," said Dean.

Carly didn't need to ask who Dean meant by he.

"Does he really hate me that much?" Dean went on, his voice on the edge of breaking, "Was he always so disgusted by me, that he thought-? I don't need to be locked up. I don't-! But when I think about it, how sane can I really be, y'know? I let him get inside my head, let him make me believe that he cared about me and I… Maybe they're all right about me after all."

Before Dean found Seth and Roman, all he had was pain and anger. And now that that support had been ripped away, now that the brother he loved and trusted had betrayed him, all that pain returned, filling Dean's veins like a poison. Carly could see it in his eyes, in the way he breathed. It was like he was suppressing physical agony, and it broke Carly's heart.

She set the pillow he'd thrown by the headboard and laid down next to him.

"Come here," she said.

After only the briefest hesitation, Dean rolled over and settled himself so his head was resting on Carly's shoulder. His arms pressed close to her sides, and he nestled his head beneath her chin. Carly wrapped her arms around his shoulders. She rubbed his back with one hand, and she held him in silence for a minute or so.

"He's wrong," she said, "You listen to me, Dean Ambrose. You are a good man. You are never wrong to trust, and you are never wrong to care. Someone lied to you, took advantage of you. But that doesn't make you stupid, and it doesn't make you crazy."

Dean said nothing. He only held onto her more tightly. Carly reached up and began gently stroking his hair. She knew just how useless words could be. She wished there was some way she could stop Dean from hurting so badly. But she couldn't change what happened, and she couldn't change how Dean was feeling. All she could do was be there, when and if he needed her.

Eventually, some of the tension uncoiled in Dean's back and shoulders. His shaky breathing grew steadier, and his head lay heavily over her heart. For a moment, Carly wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

"We couldn't have known, right?" he asked softly, "I mean, did he say anything to you? Did you ever notice anything that would've made you think that he could-?"

"No," said Carly, after a pause, "There's no way we could've known."

Dean sighed. Then he abruptly propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Carly.

"Wait a minute," he said, "What were you still doing awake?"

"I just got up to get a drink when I heard you moving around," said Carly, somehow getting the feeling that this was the second time she'd lied to him that night.

But Dean just nodded and then glanced up at the window. He was silent for a minute more, leaning on one elbow with his other hand still absently laying across Carly's stomach, like he didn't want her to leave. But Carly knew she should let him get some sleep, if he could.

"Dean, are you alright?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he said, looking back at her, "Oh, yeah. I'll be fine."

Dean held her gaze for a moment, and smiled. He reached his hand up to gently touch her cheek, letting his fingertips trace along her jawline. It suddenly struck Carly that he was very close. Her heart gave a funny little lurch for no reason at all. It looked like Dean was about to say something more, but then he shifted away, and laid back down on his pillow.

"I should probably let you get some sleep," he said, turning his eyes back to the ceiling.

"Right," said Carly as she sat up, "Goodnight, Dean."

"Goodnight," he said, "And… thanks, Carly."

Carly went back to the couch to lay down and pretend to be asleep. She hoped she'd been able to help Dean at least a little. He hadn't looked quite as distressed when she left, so that was something.

Dean was strange when he was a little drunk or very tired. Carly supposed that was because those were the times he was most emotionally vulnerable. That's all it was, she was certain. But the place where his fingers had brushed against her skin still tingled like a burn, and Carly wasn't certain at all.

xXx

Dean seemed better the next morning at breakfast. At least, he was more talkative and focused, so more like himself. Roman was still unreadable. He seemed to be doing alright, but Carly knew that if there was one person who would put a brave face on things to avoid worrying the people he cared about, it was Roman Reigns.

Still, both of them seemed to be getting back on track. They wouldn't really know what their goal was until they got more answers, but they were determined to be ready to act when the time came. They planned to head to the gym and get in a good workout before lunch. Dean had gone into the guest bedroom to change and get his stuff together while Carly cleaned up from breakfast. As she straightened up from loading the dishwasher, she noticed Roman leaning against the counter, watching her.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said.

"Dishes?" Carly said, a little perplexed.

"No, that's not what I mean," Roman laughed, "To be honest, I kinda didn't expect you to come at all. I mean, I'm glad you did. And I get what you're trying to do. Dean and I took a hard fall. We're still in pretty bad shape. Then you turn up like some kind of Disney princess, and start doing all the chores and cooking for us and making sure we're taking care of ourselves. You're trying to nurse us back to health."

Carly pursed her lips and looked away, embarrassed. Taciturn as he was, Roman had an uncanny knack for perception. Truth be told, that was exactly what she was trying to do.

"I'm sorry," said Carly, "I can stop, if I'm being pushy or annoying or getting in the way or something. I didn't mean to-"

"Whoa, Carly, slow down," said Roman, "I only brought it up 'cause I wanted to let you know that I appreciate it."

"Really?" Carly said hesitantly.

"Really," said Roman, with a warm smile.

"I didn't want you to think I'd abandoned you," said Carly, "I wanted to give you and Dean time, but then I realized that I left you to take care of Dean all by yourself, and that there wasn't going to be anyone to take care of you. I'm not very strong and I'm not very smart, but I wanted to help. I care about you guys a lot."

She was looking away again by the time she finished speaking. She could tell Roman was moved by what she said, and that made her feel embarrassed all over again. Carly wasn't much for being sentimental. But then Roman's strong arms were around her, and she couldn't regret saying it.

"We care about you, too," he said as he pulled away, "So if there's anything you need, you let us know, alright?"

Roman stared keenly at her with an expression in his eyes that bordered on unease. Carly was certain now that the dark circles under her eyes had not escaped his notice, nor had the fact that she hadn't been eating much. But that was nothing he needed to worry about. Carly was sure she'd be fine in a day or two.

"Alright," she said.

Roman didn't seem quite satisfied by that answer, but nodded, accepting it for the time being. Dean emerged from the guest bedroom.

"Ready to go when you are," Dean said, then stopped to sniff the air, "Something smells delicious. What are you making, Carly?"

"Beef roast cooked in beer and onions," said Carly, "It'll take all day in the slow-cooker, but I promise it'll be worth it."

"Cooking with beer, huh?" Dean grinned, "Very Midwestern. I approve."

"We'll be back in a couple hours," said Roman, "Bye, Carly."

When the boys had gone, Carly started the dishwasher and stood aimlessly in the kitchen for a few minutes. There were things she needed to get done, but she felt a little shaky all of a sudden. Maybe she'd sit down for a bit first.

xXx

"Carly? Hey, you still alive?"

Dean's voice was the first thing Carly was aware of. The second was the godawful crick in her neck. And it wasn't just her neck. All of her joints hurt, too. Come to think of it, it almost felt like her skin itself ached. She sat up groggily, squinting against the brightness of the room. She must've fallen asleep curled up in the chair and hadn't moved an inch. Apparently she'd also slept with her neck at exactly the wrong angle, because her head was pounding. Carly blinked at Dean, who was leaning over her.

"Did you guys just get back from the gym?" she asked.

Her voice was strangely hoarse. Carly cleared her throat, but that only made it feel worse. Guess she hadn't been drinking enough water.

"We got back an hour ago," said Dean, "We didn't want to wake you up, but we were just wondering if you planned on eating lunch or just sleeping all day."

"Yeah, lunch. Right," Carly nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

Lunch. Was it really that late already? How long had she been asleep? Carly shivered.

"Hey, Dean," she said, "Do you know where my jacket ended up? It's really cold in here."

"Cold?" Dean said, looking surprised, "Carly, it's the dead of summer in the south, and somebody won't turn the AC up."

"Too expensive," Roman called from the kitchen.

"Cheapskate," Dean muttered.

"If you can't take the heat," said Roman, "Not my fault you're from the frozen north."

"Ohio is not the frozen north. She's from Wisconsin. That place is cold as hell," said Dean. He looked at Carly critically, studying her face, "You know, you don't look so good."

Carly wanted to make a smart-aleck comeback, but she didn't have the energy to do more than grimace at him.

"What, you aren't gonna ask me if I've looked in a mirror lately?" said Dean, "You feeling alright?"

He said it teasingly, but when he reached down to hold the back of Carly's head with one hand and feel her forehead with the other, the grin faded from his face.

"Hey, Roman?" he called.

"What's up?" said Roman, walking over to them.

"I think our girl's coming down with something," said Dean.

Before Carly could protest, Roman had laid his hand across her forehead. He frowned, felt Dean's forehead for comparison, and then felt Carly's again.

"She's running a fever, alright," said Roman, "How are you feeling otherwise, Carly?"

"Well," Carly hesitated, "My head hurts, and my throat hurts, and everything just sorta aches."

She felt lousy about the fact that Dean and Roman now had to deal with a sick houseguest. But she knew that they'd only be more worried and annoyed if she didn't admit how bad she felt.

"And exactly how long has that been going on?" said Roman, folding his arms and looking down at her reproachfully.

"Just since I woke up now, I swear," Carly insisted.

Before she could say more, she was interrupted by a coughing fit. Roman leaned down and rubbed her back comfortingly until it passed. Carly wished she had the energy to be annoyed with how pathetic she knew she probably looked at the moment.

"Poor girl. You oughta lay down," said Roman, "You can have my room. Just give me a minute to throw some fresh sheets on my bed."

"Roman, I'm not going to take your room," said Carly, "Not while you're still hurt."

"Don't worry about it. Me and Dean can share the guest bed," Roman said reassuringly, then glanced over at Dean, "But if you punch me in your sleep again, I'm gonna hit you back, man."

"Fair enough," Dean shrugged.

"I'm really alright," Carly protested lamely when Roman had left.

"No, you're not," Dean contradicted, "You aren't really gonna fight us on this, are you?"

"I won't," said Carly. She sighed resignedly. Pride dictated that she not accept help, but whatever was beating up her immune system also beat some sense into her.

"Good," said Dean, "Because we're going into war on Monday, and we need our princess at one-hundred percent."

Need her? Probably not. She wasn't Seth Rollins. Carly would do what she could to help, but… There was no way she could fill the void he'd left; not as a tactician, and not even as a friend. Roman returned, dumping an armload of sheets onto the floor of the living room.

"All set," he said.

Dean helped Carly to her feet. She managed to take a few steps before a bright fog surrounded her. It clouded her vision, muffled her hearing, and deadened all sensation entirely, making her feel simultaneously weightless and impossibly heavy. When the fog cleared, Carly found herself sprawled on the floor with Dean's arms around her, half-laying across his lap. Roman was kneeling in front of her, holding her face in his hands.

"Carly?" Roman was saying, "Carly, can you hear me?"

"I hear you," Carly mumbled, still a little disoriented, "Did I seriously just faint?"

"Yeah, you did," said Dean, "And it was slightly terrifying."

"Okay, so maybe I'm not really alright," she said sheepishly.

"Uh-huh," said Dean, "So glad we're all in agreement on that. C'mere."

Before Carly knew what he was doing, Dean had picked her up and carried her over to the bedroom, gently laying her down on the bed. Carly still felt a little guilty for commandeering Roman's room, but she was grateful all the same. While Dean helped Carly settle herself in and pulled the covers over her, Roman pulled the shades down and turned off the lights except for the lamp on the nightstand.

"I'm sorry, Roman," said Carly, "I didn't mean to come to your home and be a bother. I never should've flown down here. Stupid planes are just missiles filled with disease, anyway."

Her dim view of air travel made Dean and Roman laugh, and that made her feel just the tiniest bit better.

"No," said Dean, "What you shoulda done was come with us in the first place."

"He's right, Carly," said Roman, "No, don't apologize. Just promise not to go lone wolf on us again."

"Right," Carly said compliantly, "I promise."

Roman smiled and patted her shoulder.

"Good," he said, "Dean, can you hold down the fort while I run out? I have to pick up some cold medicine and stuff."

"You don't have any?" asked Dean, "You do live here, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I never get sick," Roman shrugged, "I'll be back soon."

"Of course, the last son of Krypton is impervious to the common cold," Carly grumbled.

Dean left Carly with orders to try to get some sleep, and she sent him off with instructions on what still needed to be done to get supper ready, despite his reservations about being put in charge of cooking. Carly struggled to get comfortable, but the aches in every atom of her existence wouldn't allow it. Well, this whole trip had backfired quite spectacularly. She'd come with the intention of looking after Dean and Roman, and now they were stuck taking care of her. She knew that they didn't mind that much, but that didn't stop her from feeling bad about it.

Every time Carly was seized with a coughing fit, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. And if she didn't stop coughing by the time the footsteps reached the bedroom door, Dean would come in and guilt her into drinking more water. Damn those stupid, pretty puppy-dog eyes of his. Carly was too far under the weather to resist that degree of persuasiveness.

Carly avoided looking at the clock. She didn't want to be reminded of how many hours of sleep she wasn't getting. She may have dozed off here and there, but never for long enough to feel like it was doing any good. Some time later (who knows how long) Carly felt the mattress shift as somebody sat down, and felt somebody lay a hand on her shoulder.

"Carly?" Dean said softly, "You awake?"

"Yeah," said Carly, opening her eyes, "What's up?"

"Roman got a thermometer so we can keep tabs on your temperature," Dean said as he held up the instrument, "So, if you wouldn't mind letting me check."

Carly gave a reluctant groan. Couldn't he just leave her alone to die in peace?

"Come on, Carly," Dean wheedled, "Open up."

Ugh, fine. Carly let him place the thermometer under her tongue, and waited while he timed out thirty seconds. She'd learned it was easier to humor Dean in these situations. When he switched into caretaker mode, there was no arguing with him. Oddly enough, Carly didn't mind his fussing over her as much as she used to. Dean removed the thermometer and held it under the light.

"A hundred and one," he read.

"Dalmatians," Carly followed instantly. She blinked in confusion, "Sorry. Don't know why I made that reference."

"Yeah, well, if I was as sick as you are, I wouldn't be able to think straight either," Dean smiled.

"Hey," said Roman as he walked into the room, "What's our status?"

"Dalmatians," Dean replied.

"So…" Roman paused, trying to make sense of that answer, "One hundred and one, then?"

"Both of you are crazy," said Dean.

He shook his head incredulously and Carly laughed. Bad idea. Laughing hurt.

"But if you'll excuse me," said Dean, "I have to go pretend I know how to cook broccoli."

He wrinkled his nose as he stood up to leave.

"You'll be fine, Dean," Carly smiled faintly, "I believe in you."

"Yeah, thanks," he muttered from the hallway.

Roman grinned and sat down on the bed.

"Don't worry about him," he said, "He's actually not a bad cook. Actually, while we're on the subject of Dean, I have to ask you something."

"What's that?" said Carly.

"I was wondering if you'd mind if I let Dean take point as far as taking care of you goes," said Roman, "I think it might help ease him back to normal a little bit. He can't sit around and dwell on things if there's somebody who needs him, you know? I just think it'd do him some good. Couldn't hurt, at least. Do you mind?"

She hadn't really thought about it that way, but it made sense. Roman had taken care of Dean those first two days, then she came and took care of both of them. And it had helped her feel better, so it was safe to assume that it had been the same way for Roman. That just left Dean. He'd gotten plenty of care and attention, but he didn't have any constructive outlet to keep him busy.

"If you really think that'd help," said Carly.

"I really do," said Roman.

"Then I suppose I don't mind," she said, "If he doesn't mind playing nurse, that is."

"Thanks, Carly," said Roman, smiling gratefully, "I'll keep an eye him, I promise. And if he starts bothering you too much, just let me know and I'll rein him in."

Roman left to make sure Dean didn't somehow manage to burn down the kitchen, and Carly closed her eyes again and pretended to sleep. Dean returned after they'd eaten to proudly let Carly know what a good job he'd done on making sure supper went smoothly. With some coaxing, he managed to persuade her to eat some soda crackers and applesauce, even though she still wasn't hungry at all.

Around nine o'clock, both Dean and Roman came in to check on her. Dean sat down on the edge of the bed, and Carly let him check her temperature while Roman peeled the shrinkwrap off a bottle of Nyquil.

"You can't get better if you don't get some sleep," Roman explained, "And I know you haven't been sleeping, Carly, so you can drop the act. Sorry, they only had whatever this weird green flavor is.

"Licorice, in theory," said Carly.

She eyed the syrup dubiously as Dean measured out a full dose. In her opinion, a flavor that vile was what turned Dr. Jekyll into Mr. Hyde. She reached out to take the cup from Dean, hoping it would be easier to manage if she could down it in one gulp.

Carly grimaced as the Nyquil burned a hole in her stomach. That had to be the most disgusting taste in the world. Wait, no. Second most disgusting taste in the world. Randy Orton's arm took first place.

Another coughing fit struck her as she passed the cup back to Dean. Carly sincerely hoped she didn't look as pathetic as she felt, but had the feeling that she did. She wasn't quite sure she appreciated the way Dean and Roman were looking down at her with sympathetic concern. She didn't like it when people made a fuss. But Carly caught herself thinking that it was kind of comforting to have Roman's arm supporting her while she took a drink of water, and then she was even more annoyed with herself for being a hypocrite.

"Well, damn. You really must be feeling pretty terrible," said Dean, "Roman, she hasn't argued with me once today. Not once. She didn't put up a fight about staying in bed, or letting me check her temperature, or taking the medicine, or anything."

"Hmm, that does sound serious," Roman nodded soberly, but Carly could tell he was having a hard time not laughing at the fact that Dean seemed honestly put off by this.

"I'm not dying, you know," said Carly.

"Yeah, but you kinda look like you are," Dean said frankly.

Carly didn't have the energy to do more than sigh and weakly make a face at him.

"See? That's what I'm talking about," said Dean, "I don't like seeing you like this. Whatever this is took all the fight out of you, and I don't like it. But don't you worry, princess. We'll get you nursed back to health in no time."

It looked like Roman was right. Seth's betrayal was not far from Dean's mind, but he was acting a lot more like his usual self. Maybe this was what he needed to pull him back from the edge, if only a little ways. In that case, Carly felt she could put up with it. Dean got awfully pushy when he tried to take care of somebody, but Carly knew that he would back off if she told him to, and that made it tolerable, somehow.

"Thanks, Dean," she said faintly.

"But she's not gonna get any sleep if we don't leave her alone," said Roman, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder, "Goodnight, Carly. I'll leave both the bedroom doors open, so just call if you need anything, alright?"

"Goodnight, Carly," said Dean, "Feel better, okay?"

"I'll try," said Carly, "Goodnight."

Once they had gone, Carly settled herself in as best she could and closed her eyes. She could already feel the Nyquil making her drowsy. Maybe, just maybe, she'd finally be able to sleep. Unfortunately, just like it happened every time she was left alone with her thoughts, she started to think about Seth.

Something didn't make sense. Actually, nothing made sense. But then again, nothing had made sense when Paige turned on her, either. Was this the same? Had Seth always been an awful, selfish person, and they'd just never known?

What else would possess him to say those terrible things about Dean? Seth had to know how badly he'd hurt Dean with those words. Dean had let Seth get close to him, after all. It was just spiteful. It was nothing like she'd known Seth to be. She wondered what else he'd said about Roman. She wondered if he'd said anything about her.

The thought made her sick to her stomach. Seth knew people. Not the way Roman did, but the way a person knows the workings of a chessboard. If he'd been playing Dean and Roman, that meant he'd been playing her, too. Ever since the moment she'd saved him. Perhaps before. She remembered the look he'd given her before that match, like he could see right through her. Apparently, he really could.

She felt stupid about falling for the Authority's rhetoric. She hated herself for being taken in by Seth. She was a fool. She was an idiot for-

No. No, it wasn't her fault. None of this was her fault. It was his. You can't go around anticipating that the people you meet might be manipulative sociopaths. It wasn't her fault.

She'd told Dean that he wasn't wrong to trust, and she meant that. It was harder to convince herself.

It was harder still to convince herself that everything Seth had said to her was a lie. God, it turned her stomach to think of it now. The way he'd looked at her in the hospital that night, after she'd gone through hell and several broken bones to save his career, or so she thought. He must've been quite amused when he learned that she'd done all of that for nothing.

And everything he'd said to her. Maybe that's why he'd been so confused that she risked herself on his behalf, when there was nothing in it for her. She wished he hadn't stayed that night. She wished he hadn't seemed so sincere. She hated Seth for tricking her into caring about him. She hated him.

She missed him.

That night replayed over and over in her head, every variation of the situation she could think of. Sometimes he stayed. Sometimes he went. Every time, he broke her heart.

Carly sighed and opened her eyes. To her surprise, she looked up into the grey eyes of Roman Reigns. That was odd. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning over her with a worried expression on his face. When he saw that she was awake, Roman glanced across the room.

"Dean?" he called, "Dean, I think she's coming around."

The mattress jostled suddenly, and then Dean was leaning over her as well. He gripped onto her hand so tightly that it hurt a little. Dean looked even more distressed than Roman had. What on earth was going on?

"Carly?" he said quickly, "Come on, girl, say something."

"What's going on?" Carly asked, her voice still hoarse. She looked over at the clock, "It's three in the morning! Why aren't you asleep?"

Dean slumped forward. He pressed Carly's hand to his lips.

"You're okay," he said, "Roman, she's okay."

Roman gave a relieved, breathless sort of laugh, and reached out to gently caress her forehead. They were both acting so strangely that Carly wondered if she was dreaming.

"Why wouldn't I be?" said Carly, "You guys are scaring me a little bit."

"Well, you just gave us a scare," said Roman, "We're just really glad you're awake."

"Awake? I don't remember being asleep," said Carly.

"But you were," Dean said insistently, "You were asleep, and you wouldn't wake up. I came to check on you around midnight. It sounded like you were having a nightmare, so I tried to wake you up, but I couldn't. Scared the hell out of me."

Dean laughed the same way Roman had. He had yet to let go of her hand.

"Your temperature was up to one-oh-four," said Roman, "We were hoping you'd come out of it on your own, but… We were just getting ready to take you to the hospital when you woke up."

So they'd been up all night and worried sick on her account. Carly felt terrible.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't do that!" Dean snapped, "For God's sake, don't start apologizing!"

The sudden anger in his tone made Carly flinch. She wasn't quite sure what she'd done to upset him so much. She looked away and blinked hard. For some reason, she felt like crying. Roman laid a hand on her shoulder, almost protectively.

"Dean," Roman said warningly, "Don't yell at her."

Dean pursed his lips, trying to compose himself. Carly pulled her hand from his and crossed her arms tightly. Dean, now looking ashamed as well as distressed, couldn't look her in the eyes.

"Sorry," he said stiffly, "I'm sorry, Carly."

"S'okay," Carly mumbled.

"Don't worry about us, alright?" said Roman, smiling at her reassuringly, "We've had later nights than this, trust me."

"Thank you," said Carly, "I'm fine now. You two should get some sleep."

"You sure?" asked Roman.

"I'm sure," said Carly.

So Roman ushered a reluctant Dean out of the room, assuring him that everything would be alright. And it probably would. Carly was feeling a little better, at least physically. Something else was worrying her now. Dean said it sounded like she was having a nightmare, which she could only assume meant that she was talking in her sleep. And considering the way he'd gotten so mad at her all of a sudden, Carly was rather concerned about what she might've said.

xXx

Carly woke up at ten in the morning, feeling much better than she had. Though her body still ached, and she still felt a little shaky, thank goodness her throat had stopped hurting. She managed to get out of bed and walk to the bathroom without feeling like she was going to fall over. A nice warm shower made her feel better still.

She hoped Dean and Roman had been able to get some sleep, too. Regardless of what Roman said, she still felt guilty about scaring them like that, even though she knew it wasn't like she had any control over the situation. When she went into the kitchen, it did seem like both of them were well-rested, which put her mind at ease. Even better, Dean showed no signs that he had let the sun go down on his anger.

But before she could get any further than saying good morning, Dean cut her off, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her back towards the bedroom. He insisted, despite her protests, that she still needed to rest. Roman took Dean's side on the matter, unfortunately.

"I hope you realize that as soon as I get my strength back, I'm gonna make you pay for this, Dean," Carly warned as he pulled her along.

"Now there's the Carly I know and somewhat fear," said Dean, grinning, "But you're still going back to bed."

After checking her temperature, Dean vanished and returned a few minutes later, bearing a bowl of soup and some toast. Carly smiled as she lifted the first spoonful.

"Chicken and stars," she said, "I haven't tasted this in years."

"I had a feeling you'd like it," said Roman, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks," Carly laughed.

"Now," said Roman, "I think it's time we got down to business."

"Business?" asked Carly.

"Keep eating," Dean ordered.

"Pushy," said Carly, emphatically take a bite out of the toast.

"She's got a point, though, Roman," said Dean, "What do you mean, 'business'?"

"I mean," Roman said carefully, "I think it's about time we stopped avoiding the subject of Seth."

Carly's gaze darted to Dean's face worriedly. But he seemed surprisingly unaffected. He merely looked down, a little solemnly, and nodded.

"You're right," he said, "You got a plan, Roman?"

"Not completely, not yet," said Roman, "But come Monday, we're gonna make sure everybody knows that we haven't lost anything but a leech. He's been full of big talk, and we're gonna answer. Dean, you're gonna make them all hear us."

"Damn straight I will," Dean said determinedly, "They think they destroyed the Shield, huh? They only got rid of some excess baggage for us. They only made us stronger. You and me, uce, we're still the Shield."

"And we always will be," said Roman, reaching out ruffle Dean's hair.

"And after Monday?" said Dean, "Then what happens?"

"That's where Carly comes in," said Roman.

"Me?" Carly asked.

"Of course, you," said Roman, "We're not just going to call it good after we get our hands on him once. We're gonna make sure justice is served. You know how the Authority thinks, princess. More than that, you know how Seth thinks. We're gonna need your help."

Dean and Roman both stared at her expectantly. Carly's throat felt awfully dry as she swallowed the last bite of toast. She was not qualified for this. Not at all. It was a conflict of interests, first off. Secondly, Seth was the best strategist in the business. Carly was nowhere near his level. But Roman was right. Of the three of them, she had the best knowledge of the enemy. She was all they had, and that was better than nothing.

"Well," Carly said slowly, "As far as the Authority is concerned, Seth destroyed the Shield. At the very least, he changed the dynamic so you aren't the same threat you once were. I don't mean that as an insult. It's just a fact that you're now one man down. Like I was saying, Seth gave them something, so we can assume he's getting something in return. And once I find out what kind of deal he made with the devil, I'll do everything in my power to keep him from getting any use out of it."

Roman reached out and gently clapped her on the shoulder.

"That's our girl," he said, smiling, "Sabotage is right up your alley. Monday will be for reconnaissance. Then, the real work starts."

"If she's well enough to go in on Monday, you mean," said Dean.

"You just try and stop me," Carly said firmly, narrowing her eyes at him.

A grin spread across Dean's face.

"Now that's what I like to hear," he said.

In preparation for the coming war, Dean and Roman were going in to the gym again that afternoon. Dean surprised Carly by asking her to stay in bed and get some sleep, as opposed to ordering her to. Carly graciously agreed to that request, settling herself under the covers as she heard them closing the front door. Sure, she was worried about what the future would bring. But somehow, she felt better than she had all week.

xXx

No, scratch that. Carly felt terrible. When she woke up, the aches had returned in full force. Even more unfortunately, she was shivering uncontrollably under the covers. And after she thought she was getting better, too. This royally sucked.

Glancing at the clock, Carly could see that the boys had been gone for a couple hours. The apartment was too quiet, so she knew they weren't back yet. She needed another blanket, now. Who knows how much longer they'd be gone? Besides, she should be able to make it across the room and back, right?

Carly managed to drag herself out of bed. She stumbled along, just making it to the closet before that bright fog started closing in around her. Carly leaned against the wall. Oh God, not again…

The next thing Carly knew, she was flat on her back on the floor, still freezing cold. Okay, so maybe trying to get a blanket on her own was a bad idea. Another glance at the clock told Carly that she hadn't been out for more than a minute, so that was good. She was just going to lay there for a little bit to recover, and then she'd get back in bed before Dean and Roman got back.

Then she heard the front door open. Damn.

Carly sat up as quickly as she was able to. She didn't have time to do anything else before Dean appeared in the doorway. He blinked at the empty bed in confusion, and then his eyes found Carly. Carly realized this was probably a worrisome sight – her collapsed on the floor, shaking uncontrollably, and presumably pale as death.

"Dean, don't freak out," she started.

Too late. Dean had already shouted for Roman and rushed over, dropping to his knees next to her. Hearing the note of panic in Dean's voice, Roman came running. He took stock of the situation in an instant and, being more level-headed than the alarmed Dean, quickly picked Carly up and set her back on the bed.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean demanded, "Why is she shaking like that?"

"Just chills," Roman said calmly, "No, Dean, I'm not telling you to chill. I'm saying she has chills. Get that extra quilt, would you? It just happens sometimes when somebody's got a fever. It's nothing to worry about."

"Why didn't you say so in the first place?" said Dean, still a bit rattled, as he passed the quilt to Roman.

"I tried," said Carly, "You were too busy panicking to listen."

"Oh, right," said Dean, rubbing the back of his neck.

Roman snorted and rolled his eyes. He finished wrapping the quilt securely around Carly and gave her a reassuring pat on the back.

"Hang in there, princess. You'll be alright in a minute," he said. Then the smile dropped from his face, "Oh man, I left the water running."

Roman dashed back to the kitchen before he had a flood on his hands. Carly laughed a little as Dean sat down next to her. He eyed her worriedly.

"You look miserable," said Dean, gently pushing Carly's hair back from her face.

"Good to know I look better than I feel," said Carly.

"Anything I can do?" he asked.

"I'm fine, Dean," she said, though she was still shaking as badly as ever, "I just have to wait it out."

Dean nodded, but he kept watching her, his lips pursed in concern.

"Okay, I can't just sit here with you looking like you're about to shatter into tiny pieces. Dunno if this'll help, but…" Dean shifted closer to Carly, leaning back against the headboard and opening his arms, "C'mere."

"I don't want you to catch whatever I've got," Carly shook her head.

Dean scoffed dismissively.

"Don't be ridiculous," he said, "Now, come on."

As Carly shifted closer to him, Dean carefully pulled her into his lap. Carly felt like she would've protested this at another time. But then again, maybe she wouldn't've. She settled herself into Dean's arms, letting him hold her against his chest. It was nice. She wasn't sure she'd ever admit that to him, but it was nice.

"Y'know," Dean said hesitantly, after a pause, "Last night, you were kinda talking in your sleep."

"Oh?" said Carly.

Oh no. This was exactly what she'd been afraid of. Carly was just glad Dean couldn't see her expression of absolute panic right now.

"Yeah," said Dean, "I mean, I couldn't make out most of it. But there was one thing. You kept calling out for him. For… for Seth."

Oh, God no.

Carly's mind raced, frantically trying and ultimately failing to think of something to say. That's why Dean had been so angry. Not only had she kept Dean and Roman awake and worried half the night, but apparently the whole experience had been a painful reminder of Seth. No wonder Roman had suddenly decided they needed to stop avoiding the subject.

"I… I m-must've been d-dreaming," Carly stammered, her voice now shaking as badly as her body.

"Yeah, must've," Dean repeated.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard. Carly remained stalled out in a mortified silence. Should she apologize? Should she try to explain herself? Oh, who was she kidding. She had no explanation. But why on earth had Dean brought it up?

She was startled to hear Dean speak up again.

"I'm a real jerk, Carly," he said softly, "No, hang on. Let me finish. You cared about Seth a lot. You risked yourself for him, got put in a hospital on his account, but after what happened on Monday I never… I never stopped to think that you were hurting, too. I only saw the way it made you happy when you were taking care of us. At least, I thought it made you happy. I didn't even notice how tired you were looking. Roman noticed, but I didn't, because I'm a jerk. And I wanted to say that I'm sorry, Carly. I'm sorry for forgetting about you. I won't do it again. That's one good thing about me, y'know. Once I know what I did wrong, I try my damnedest not to do it again. That's it, I guess. That's all I had to say."

That was probably the last thing Carly had expected to hear. She thought he'd be hurt or angry or something. She never imagined he was going to apologize, of all things. Dean Ambrose was the least self-aware person she'd ever met, and he was only slightly more aware of other people. But there was one thing she didn't want him to get the wrong idea about. Carly pulled away so she could look up at him.

"It does make me happy," said Carly, "I like taking care of you and Roman. Don't you ever think otherwise. And it's alright, Dean. You know I believe in you."

Dean smiled and looked away, a little embarrassedly. Carly knew that Dean spilling his guts like that wasn't something that happened very often. But she was always glad when it did. She liked Dean. All of him, from the parts where he was sharp and rough around the edges to the soft side he didn't show to just everyone. It was a rare honor to be trusted by Dean Ambrose, and Carly never wanted to do anything to betray that trust.

Carly didn't know exactly when, but she'd stopped shivering at some point. She still felt all achy, except now she was burning up instead of freezing. She slid off Dean's lap and pushed her way out of the quilt.

"You alright?" asked Dean.

"Yeah, just really warm all of a sudden," said Carly.

Dean went to the nightstand to retrieve the thermometer, and Carly once again let him place it under her tongue. Carly didn't like to admit it, but she had the suspicion that she was moving beyond simply not minding Dean looking after her, and that she was starting to actually enjoy it. But that was ridiculous. It had to be the fever talking.

"Hmm," said Dean, frowning, "One-oh-two point three. It went up again. You lay down, okay? I'll be right back."

Carly tossed the quilt aside so she was only covered by the sheet. She eased her aching body back down and rested her head on the pillow, closing her eyes. In a moment, she felt the mattress shift again. She looked up to see Dean pulling a washcloth from a bowl on the nightstand and wringing the water from it.

"Let's see if we can't get you back down to double digits, huh?" he grinned.

Dean gently touched the cloth to her forehead, and Carly closed her eyes. He dabbed at her face, under her chin, down onto her neck and shoulders, every so often refreshing the washcloth to keep it cool. The touch of it brought some relief to the heat and the aches that plagued her. It felt wonderful. She opened her eyes.

"Hey, Dean?" Carly murmured, "Your bedside manner isn't so bad after all."

A faint smile tugged at Dean's mouth. He briefly touched the washcloth to her lips.

"Shh," said Dean, "Don't talk, alright? You just get some rest, and let me take care of you."

Rest, huh? Carly could manage that. And as for letting Dean take care of her, well, she was too tired to even pretend to mind. Carly smiled at him and closed her eyes again.

Dean Ambrose was a curious case. Half the time he looked like a scruffy roustabout from the 1950's, and he was about as safe as a game of Russian roulette, but Carly felt completely safe in his care. The Shield was made up of contradictions, it seemed. Roman Reigns was the strong, silent type usually, and in a fight he was a roaring force of total destruction, but he was also the most perceptive and thoughtful and warm-hearted man Carly had ever met. And Seth, well. That went without saying, didn't it?

Carly wasn't aware that she'd fallen asleep until she opened her eyes to see that Dean was gone. According to the clock, it was past six already. Roman came to check on her shortly thereafter. He noted that Dean was taking this caretaker thing farther than he'd anticipated, as Dean was now taking over all the acquisition of food and doing of dishes, and had started fussing over Roman as well. Roman seemed both annoyed and a little pleased by this.

He decreed an early night for all of them. They had a long drive ahead of them in the morning, and a war to begin the next day.

xXx

Carly felt like she'd only just fallen asleep when she found Dean gently shaking her awake at five in the morning, telling her it was time to hit the road. Dean and Roman were strangely alert for how early it was. Carly, on the other hand, felt no better than she had the day before. This irked her, because she definitely did not want to be sidelined from whatever was going to happen on Monday.

After they'd finished loading the car, Dean convinced Carly to take some more Nyquil in the hopes that she'd be able to sleep on the drive. It was a good idea, Carly had to admit as she climbed into the back seat. Roman passed her a blanket.

"Dean's probably gonna make me turn the AC on, and I don't want you to get cold," he explained.

Carly thanked him, wrapped herself up in the blanket, and curled up on the seat. She just want to feel not-lousy so she could focus on making a plan. It was interesting, though. Dean and Roman were more than just alert. They were eager.

They were still hurt by what Seth had done. Carly imagined it might never stop hurting them. But if they were one thing, it was resilient. This was another obstacle, another battle, another enemy to bring to justice. The only difference was that this enemy's crimes hit a little closer to home.

It was late afternoon when Carly woke up. She sat up groggily, trying to smooth down her hair.

"How much further?" she asked.

"Not much, maybe twenty minutes," said Roman, "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a sledgehammer," Carly muttered, "So about the same."

Soon enough, they were settled in their hotel room. Roman had only booked the one room, so they would be close by in case something stupid happened, like Carly taking a turn for the worse. She actually felt a little better now that she was actually awake.

"What are we doing about supper?" she asked.

"Supper?" said Dean, "You mean you're finally actually hungry?"

"That's a good sign," said Roman, "What sounds good to you?"

The hotel-supplied directory of local restaurants was consulted, and an order was placed for massive quantities of chicken fried rice, bourbon chicken, beef lo mein. Although Dean grumbled about the annoyance of a restaurant that doesn't deliver, he volunteered to go pick up the food. He'd been making himself almost annoyingly helpful all day. When he'd left, Carly looked over at Roman.

"How long do you think this'll last?" asked Carly.

"He'll calm down eventually," Roman grinned, "But I think this has been good for him."

"I think it has, too," said Carly, "Dean can be… well, I don't think selfish is the right word. Maybe 'careless' or 'thoughtless' would be more accurate."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," said Roman, "Because it's not out of unkindness or anything, 'cause Dean is the kind of guy who could kill you with kindness. I mean, we both have firsthand experience with that. But he never remembers to take care of himself, and that means he sometimes forgets to take care of other people, too. And when he's hurt, he kinda gets wrapped up in himself. I wanted to thank you again, Carly, for helping me pull him out of that."

"You're welcome," said Carly, "About that, though. Don't think I didn't figure out what you were doing."

"I don't know what you mean," Roman lied unconvincingly.

Carly narrowed her eyes at him. This suspicion had been at the back of her mind all weekend, and Roman's lame attempt to play dumb all but convinced her that she was right.

"You tricked me," she said, "You made it sound like I was doing you and Dean a favor, just to keep me from fighting you on it so I'd have to let you both make a fuss."

Roman bit his lip and looked away, and Carly knew she had him. She was a little annoyed with him, both because he had tried to pull a fast one on her, and because it had actually worked.

"Let me explain," he said, "Don't get me wrong, it was absolutely for Dean's benefit. But it was for yours, too. It was something you said, about why you decided to come stay with us. You said it was because I didn't have anyone taking care of me. And I don't know if you noticed, but you didn't have anyone taking care of you either."

Carly blinked. No, actually she hadn't noticed. She hadn't thought about it like that at all.

"And you weren't about to let us," said Roman, "Not gonna lie, I was almost kinda glad you got sick, because it made you stop when I didn't know how to. See, your problem is you bury yourself in taking care of other people so you don't have to deal with what's hurting you. You were burning yourself out to keep us warm, Carly. That's not good. No, I know that look. You don't have to apologize. Just remember that we're in this together, okay? You and me and Dean. Nobody tries to go it alone."

Carly bit back the apology, and instead smiled at him.

"Roman, why do you have to be right all the time?" she said.

"Well, I can't have people thinking that I'm just a pretty face," Roman grinned.

Impulsively, Carly leaned over and hugged Roman tightly. She didn't know what part of her brain was broken to make her reject the notion that people cared, but she was always grateful for the moments when she could believe it. She was grateful for a friend like Roman. He wrapped his arms around her and didn't let go, and Carly didn't mind at all.

"Thank you," said Carly, "Really, thank you."

"You're welcome, princess," said Roman.

xXx

The Shield's arrival at the arena was quiet, but nonetheless made quite a statement. For practical reasons, essentially all of the wrestlers came in wearing street clothes and used the locker rooms to change into their gear. But tonight the Shield walked through the doors ready for action, and Carly was ready, too.

They'd agreed that she wasn't there to fight, at least not yet. This was Dean and Roman's first chance at retribution. Carly was there to observe and strategize, but hell if she wasn't going to make her presence felt.

Ever since she'd left the Authority, Carly hadn't dressed that formally. Oftentimes, she just wore jeans and some merchandise t-shirt, either her own or one of the Shield's. Even when she wanted to look professional, she opted for more sensible dress pants rather than the skirts she'd worn as the flying monkey's lackey. And as for makeup, Carly usually went for a more neutral look. But tonight was different.

Tonight her hair was styled perfectly. Her winged eyeliner was honed to dramatic points, and her lips were crimson. A pair of black heels added an imposing five inches to her height. She wore an A-line dress in vibrant, electric blue – just the color of the lights that accompanied the Shield's entrance.

As she'd explained to Dean and Roman, this is how girls go into battle. (Perhaps guys did this, too. She didn't know.) There are situations in which you will be surrounded by enemies, or you will have to face the people you hate. And the surest way to be untouchable, to be invincible, is to make sure that you know in your very soul that you look absolutely stunning. This was her armor.

And if her final glance in the mirror and the awed looks on Dean and Roman's faces were any indication, it was working. She looked good. She looked damn good, and she was ready.

Carly was aware that people stared as they walked in. The grim ferocity on the boys' faces was enough to suppress any attempt to speak to them. But as Carly strode between them, drawn up to her full height, her chin down, her gaze levelled straight ahead, she noticed something more than just expressions of wariness.

There was sympathy. Not in such a way that was condescending, though. It was almost a silent vow of camaraderie. It didn't matter if Dean and Roman saw it or not. It was not for their benefit. It was an acknowledgement that they had suffered, that they were all suffering, and all at the mercy of the Authority. It was one more wound, one push further towards a breaking point. And when that point is reached, who can say what will happen? But it was coming, and there was an unspoken promise humming in the air that they would all stand together when it came.

Apparently the Authority was going to start out the broadcast with an announcement about the WWE World Heavyweight Championship title. To be honest, the fact that it had been vacant slipped Carly's mind entirely. The conflict between the Shield and Evolution had kept her busy. More than that, it had kept the two top contenders – Orton and Batista – busy as well. But it had not been far from the minds of the other wrestlers, and Carly got the feeling that Triple H wanted to give his full attention to ensuring that the title didn't fall into the hands of another "undesirable" such as Daniel Bryan.

And there were Triple H and Stephanie, standing in the ring and beaming. Carly longed for a day when she could slap the self-satisfied smiles off their smug faces.

"It's a good night to be right!" Triple H proclaimed.

"That was good, honey. I like that," laughed Stephanie, "As the Authority, sometimes we have the honor and privilege of making blockbuster announcements. And tonight happens to be one of those nights. We've all been hanging in the balance with the WWE World Heavyweight Championship situation, but tonight we finally have resolve. For the first time ever, there will be a WWE World Heavyweight Championship ladder match at the Money in the Bank pay-per-view. And who will have the honor of competing in that match? Well, there will be a series of qualifying matches."

"But the first person entered, well," said Triple H, "Just deserves it because he is who he is, and that is the Viper, Randy Orton! We can guarantee you that at the Money in the Bank pay-per-view, we will crown a new WWE World Heavyweight Champion."

"Amen to that!" Stephanie chimed in.

"And another thing," said Triple H, "How many times did I tell you: adapt, or perish. But yet you all wanted to come out here the last couple of months and say 'Oh, the Shield beat Evolution! Oh, the Shield, they're so great!' Well, Seth Rollins adapted, and the Shield? Well, look for yourself."

Carly turned her eyes away as they recapped the events of last Monday. She had no desire to watch that again. Her mind was on other matters. Namely, that ladder match. She didn't know if Seth's deal with the Authority had anything to do with it, but she was absolutely certain that she wasn't going to let Randy Orton get his hands on that title.

"Tonight, what is left of the once dominant Shield will whimper to the end," said Triple H, "Dean Ambrose, Roman Reigns, tonight you will step into this ring in a six-man tag-team match against Bray Wyatt and the Wyatt family. I'm just gonna go out on a limb here and say it might be tough for them to find a partner in that locker room, the locker room that they have run rough-shod over for the last two years. So this is probably more like a handicap match. Ladies and gentlemen, take out your cell phones. Get ready, because tonight you will witness history, as the Shield whimpers into extinction. Seth Rollins adapted, and tonight the Shield will perish."

Carly turned to Dean and Roman the instant Triple H finished speaking.

"So what's it gonna be?" she asked, "Do you want to take this as a handicap match, or should I find you a third man?"

"You think anybody here would be willing to throw their lot in with us?" Dean scoffed.

"You'd be surprised," said Carly, "But that didn't answer my question."

"The two of us can take on the Wyatts just fine on our own," Roman said firmly, "Triple H thinks we're gonna go out with a whimper? He's got another thing coming."

"We're gonna conquer with a roar," said Dean, clapping Roman on the back.

"And that ladder match," said Roman, "Randy Orton just getting handed a spot in it doesn't sit well with me. I've got a few personal reasons for objecting."

Roman glowered, absently rubbing his back.

"We'll make sure he gets his, too," Dean said reassuringly, "Don't you worry, uce. The princess is already on it, aren't you, Carly? I see that look."

"You know me well," said Carly, smiling, "I promise you, Roman, we're going to take down Randy Orton and Seth and the entire Authority for good."

The first official qualifying match took place that night, with Bad News Barrett defeating Alberto del Rio. Carly knew it was going to be difficult to get one or both of the boys into that ladder match. The Authority had already selected who would participate in qualifying matches, of course, and it would take some doing to throw a wrench in that plan. But Carly was certain that if anyone could do it, she could.

The crew needed no convincing to give Dean and Roman a timeslot to have their say. After the boys left to get into position, one of the techs furtively assured Carly that if she or they needed anything, all she had to do was say the word and the crew would make it happen. Carly thanked him and went off to find a place to watch. There had always been an undercurrent of rebellion in the company, and now those sentiments were rising closer to the surface.

Carly positioned herself near one of the monitors and tried to make herself look as imposing and unapproachable as possible. She did not want to be disturbed. She wanted to be with her boys in spirit as much as she could.

When the broadcast came back from commercial, Carly was chagrinned to see 3MB standing in the ring. Worse yet, they had a microphone. This was extraordinarily unfortunate. Slater was grinning that big, dopey grin of his from ear to ear. Carly knew he didn't have enough intelligence to be malicious, and she wanted so badly not to hate him, but he was making it very difficult for her.

"Well, well," he said, "The Shield was supposed to be out here to talk. But that's not what we do. We don't come out here just to talk. We-"

Thank God for the radio chatter that cut Slater off. If 3MB had any sense at all, they would get out of there post-haste, but they didn't have a nickel's worth between the three of them. Without missing a beat, Dean and Roman stepped into the ring. Dean focused on Slater while Roman took on Mahal and McIntyre. When the two-on-one started to turn against Roman, Dean leapt to the rescue. Both of them unceremoniously dumped McIntyre into the timekeeper's area and threw Mahal into the barricade. Dean pounced on McIntyre to finish the job.

The camera then switched to Slater, who was doing the first sensible thing he'd done in years, probably. He was retreating up the ramp, calling for his cronies to follow him. Unfortunately for Slater, he never noticed that Roman flanking him until it was too late. One spear later, and 3MB had been disposed of.

Roman returned to the ring. Dean was there, microphone in hand, trying to steady himself enough to speak. He took a few deep breaths, shook his head as if to clear it, and raised the microphone.

"The Shield was untouchable," he said, "And we will go down in the history books as one of the greatest groups in sports entertainment, ever! We dominated the WWE. We beat everybody, even Evolution. But we weren't healthy. We had a cancer inside of us, little did we know."

Roman paced in the background as Dean's composure started to fray. His fingers tapped agitatedly against the microphone as he struggled to keep his voice steady.

"And that cancer's name," Dean growled, "That cancer's name was Seth Rollins."

His voice strained across that name, as if he was holding himself back from screaming. For all Carly knew, that's exactly what Dean was doing.

"History is full of people like you, Seth," said Dean, "Everybody in this building knows somebody like you, Seth. The kind of guy who would stab his brother in the back. A suck-up who'd sell out to the Authority."

Dean paused, lowered his chin, and stared directly into the camera. Seth would have to be made of stone not to feel the intensity of those blue eyes boring straight into his soul.

"Now when I get the opportunity to rearrange your face, which I will, your nose isn't gonna be here anymore," said Dean, pointing to his own face to illustrate his point, "It's gonna be over here, by your ear. I say ear, 'cause you're only gonna have one left. I'm gonna rip your dirty, stinking hair out by the roots and I'm gonna stuff it in your mouth. There'll be plenty of room where your teeth used to be."

The crowd cheered him on while Roman grinned eagerly in the background, and Dean continued, breathing hard, a mirthless, manic smile spreading across his face, a wild look in his eyes.

"Seth Rollins!" he said, "My brother, you are scum. And we are looking forward to what that scum has to say tonight. We want you to stand out here in this ring in front of the whole world and lie through your teeth. We what you to stand out here in the middle of this ring in front of the whole world, and we want them to hear Triple H's words coming out of your mouth. We're gonna listen to every word of it, and then we're gonna beat the hell out of you."

Dean slapped the microphone out of his own hand as the crowd screamed. Carly was glad to hear Dean talk like this. Not about his plans for revenge, but the way he called Seth out on his lies. It meant that he'd convinced himself that they weren't true. Dean was taking a stand for himself and for Roman, denouncing the horrible things Seth had said, and the further horrible things he was likely going to say tonight.

Roman glanced down at the microphone, grinning bemusedly at Dean. Realizing what he'd done, and that Roman still needed to speak, Dean picked the mic back up and passed it to him apologetically. They were both laughing, and Carly wasn't sure if it was because of adrenaline or what. But they were resilient. They had each other. They were going to be alright.

"Seth, you committed the most unforgivable sin," said Roman, shaking his head incredulously.

He sounded disappointed rather than angry. But there was a growl in the back of his throat when he breathed, and he had to take a moment to collect himself before continuing.

"You're a selfish son of a bitch," said Roman, "There's things you don't do in life. You don't tug on Superman's cape, you don't piss in the wind, and you don't ever stab your brothers in the back. But you're only part of the problem. The other parts are Randy Orton and Triple H. Randy Orton, he runs around here and he thinks everybody owes him something. He thinks he's the face of the company. When I get my hands on you, Randy, you're gonna be the ass of this company."

The enthused reaction of the crowd was encouraging. Dean grinned eagerly as Roman continued.

"And when I'm done with you," he said, "I'm coming for you, Triple H. The King of Kings, huh? We're gonna have our own game of thrones. Believe that!"

Roman tossed the microphone over his shoulder amid a roar of approval. The Authority thought they'd brought the Shield to their knees, did they? The Hounds were only just getting started.

xXx

Carly once again stood aloof and alone near one of the monitors. Mr. Cole's interview with Seth was coming up soon, and Dean and Roman had already left to get in position once more. Carly's stomach was knotting itself anxiously. She hadn't seen Seth yet. None of them had. It was different than watching that recorded interview on the website. Seth was here, in this building, but lurking out of sight. And like a wasp in the room, Carly would've felt much better if she knew where he was.

"Excuse me, Carly?"

The voice startled Carly out of her thoughts. She looked up to see one of the last people she'd expected: John Cena. What on earth? Didn't he notice that she was trying to look unapproachable here? No, he probably didn't. John Cena seemed to be immune to that sort of thing. Carly had nothing but the highest respect for the man, but since they really hadn't had any interaction before this point, she was a little confused as to why he was talking to her now.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"Yes, actually," he said, "But first, may I say, you look very nice tonight."

"Thank you," said Carly, the statement somehow sounding like a question.

"The thing I wanted to talk to you about," said Cena, "Is that six-man tag-team match tonight. I was hoping you could let the Shield know that I'd be more than happy to volunteer to be their third man. If they haven't found one already, of course."

Carly's eyebrows arched in surprise. She knew Cena was no friend of the Authority, and that he'd been having troubles with the Wyatts as of late, but she hadn't expected him of all people to volunteer to help the Shield. Still, from the look on his face, Carly had no doubts as to his sincerity about this offer. She smiled up at him.

"I'm grateful for your kind offer, and I'm sure the Shield would be, too," said Carly, although she was certain the Shield absolutely would not be. There was something of a personality clash between them and Cena, "But the Shield wants to make a statement to the Authority by going through with it as a handicap match. They want to prove that they haven't lost any strength, and that they still are the Shield."

"I guess I can understand that," Cena nodded, "But if they change their minds."

"You'll be the first to know," said Carly, "And thank you, Mr. Cena."

Cena smiled and walked off, just as the broadcast came back from commercial. It was time. Michael Cole stood in the center of the ring, looking distinctly displeased about the interview he had to conduct.

"Ladies and gentlemen," said Mr. Cole, "Please welcome my guest at this time – a man who's been the center of controversy over the past week. He is former member of the Shield. Please welcome Seth Rollins."

Some entirely forgettable driving rock music began to play. So he had his own theme now. Triple H had said that this was plan B, but for how long had this been plan B? And then there he was. Carly's stomach dropped as she watched Seth make his way to the ring. His face was still blank, uncaring, unconcerned. He wore a black suit, and his hair, though still two-toned, had been cut short. It was about the same length as Dean's hair. It looked unnatural. Everything about this moment felt absolutely wrong. Chants of 'You sold out!' began before Seth even sat down.

"Seth, welcome," said Mr. Cole, "There's been a lot of talk over the past week about why-"

"Michael, let me stop you before you get started," Seth interrupted, "Because I don't-"

Seth broke off, a disgruntled expression crossing his face as the crowd voiced their disapproval.

"Look, I don't get it," he said, "I don't understand what all the controversy you're talking about is all about. I mean, are we talking about what I did last week? Is that the whole deal? Because, to me, that wasn't a big deal. I was just doing what was best for business. What was best for my business. The Shield, Michael, the greatest faction in the history of the WWE, created by me."

Lie number one. Dean was the one who had organized the Shield. Seth and Roman had told her as much. Of course, taking sole credit for the Shield's success would make Seth look good to the Authority.

"You don't think I have the right to destroy my own creation?" said Seth, "It takes an architect, a mastermind, to put together a faction like the Shield. You think Dean Ambrose is in any way responsible for that? Dean Ambrose is a lunatic. Given a week to his own devices, he's facedown in a ditch. And Roman Reigns, the golden boy. You'll never see anger or fury in a man like you see in Roman Reigns. But without someone to harness that, to control it, he's nothing. He's worthless."

Lie number two. Fury? In Roman? There's no way Seth could be serious. Carly supposed this was Seth continuing to paint Roman as a mindless, living weapon. And as for him being worthless, well, that was too stupid for her to even bother refuting.

"Maybe you're forgetting," said Mr. Cole, "That during the Shield's most recent string of successes, you did have a manager."

How kind of Mr. Cole to give credit where none was due. Carly's heart stopped for a second. This may be what she was dreading most - Seth's poisonous words turned on her.

"Ah, yes. Poor little Carly," said Seth, laughing derisively, "Let me tell you something, Michael. I have never met a person more willing to take a bullet for someone than Carly Caden. I mean, I can't understand why people think she's a serious threat to anyone. She's really only a danger to herself. But, in all fairness, she did save my career once, and for that she has my gratitude."

Lie number three. But this was a strange one. Carly hadn't saved Seth's career, not really. Stephanie had admitted afterwards that she had no intention of actually firing Seth, rendering Carly's actions on his behalf completely meaningless. She let herself get put in a hospital for nothing. Seth knew that. This was a perfect opportunity to mock her for her naiveté. So why didn't he? Everything he'd said about Dean and Roman had been lies. Everything he'd said about her was insultingly stated, but true, except for that last part. He wouldn't have to go out of his way to be cruel here, so why shy away from it? Carly pursed her lips. Something felt off about this.

"The point is, the Shield would not have existed without me," said Seth, "Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns are nothing without me. They owe me every ounce of success they have ever achieved."

"Seth," said Mr. Cole, "Many people will argue that the Shield was about three individuals who came together to form an awesome team, not just about one man."

"You know," said Seth, "I guess we'll find out later tonight when the pathetic remnants of the Shield have their last hurrah out here against the Wyatt family. Let me ask you a question, Michael. Why is this such a surprise? I took the Shield to the very top, as high as we could go. We beat everybody, alright? We conquered the world, Michael. At Payback, we beat Evolution in a clean sweep. And from every experience in life you should learn something. You know what I learned from Evolution? I learned that to be a success in this business, you have to evolve. You have to adapt."

The chanting swelled again as Seth got to his feet. The corner of his mouth turned up in a cruel smirk, and his eyes were hidden in shadow.

"No, no, no," he said, "I bought in. I bought into the evolution of Seth Rollins. And another thing. Another thing that you won't admit, and that none of you will admit. It took a lot of guts to do what I did last week."

He must be joking. Carly laughed mirthlessly in spite of herself. What about that could have possible taken guts? He attacked from behind like a coward. He betrayed everything he stood for like a snake. Courage would've been continuing to stand against the Authority, not joining them.

"And everybody's fixated on the fact that I stabbed my brothers in the back," he said sarcastically, "That I betrayed my brothers. And maybe to Roman Reigns and Dean Ambrose, we were brothers. But to me, they were just business partners."

Lie number four. There was no way – no way on earth, in heaven, or in hell – that someone would do the things Seth did for Dean and Roman if they didn't actually care. It couldn't be true. This was wrong. This was bafflingly wrong.

"And I severed a business relationship. You know," he snarled, "For two years, every night, I came out here and I put my fist out and I said 'believe in the Shield.' And every night, what I meant is what I'm gonna tell you right now. Is that you and everybody else better start believing in Seth Rollins!"

Never. Or rather, never again. Carly folded her arms tightly. She wished Dean and Roman were here with her. But they had business to attend to with this lying, posturing wretch.

"So that's it, Michael," said Seth, "That's all you wanted to hear, right? Oh, wait, I heard earlier tonight Dean Ambrose said that he was gonna let me say my piece, and then they were gonna come out here and kick the hell out of me. Well, I've said my piece. Where you at, boys?"

Seth shoved the microphone into Mr. Cole's hands and spread his arms wide, daring Dean and Roman to make their move. And he didn't have long to wait. The crowd screamed as they saw the Shield striding down the ramp, ready to deal out justice to their former brother. Dean and Roman jumped into the ring and then –

Carly swore loudly as the lights cut out and that hellish sound heralded the arrival of the Wyatts. When the lights came back, Dean and Roman were standing in the ring facing Harper and Rowan, and Seth was nowhere to be seen. Of course. Of course the Authority wouldn't let their newest acquisition be put in jeopardy like that. Curse them, and curse the Wyatts, too.

Dean and Roman lost no time in attacking. No obstacle could deter them for long, not when it was personal. Seth jumped back into the ring, barking orders at the Wyatts. Harper had Dean backed into a corner. Roman had just managed to toss Rowan from the ring, and set his sights on Seth.

Seth tried to bolt, but Roman was faster. He caught hold of Seth just as Dean fought free and tossed him to the ground. They were barely able to start on him before he scrambled back out of the ring and Bray Wyatt joined in the fray, turning the tide back against the Shield.

Suddenly, Cena's music started up. Carly was too relieved that the boys had help to be annoyed with Cena for ignoring her refusal. They could stand to swallow their pride for one night and live to fight another day. There were worse things in this company than teaming with Cena.

With Cena's help, Dean and Roman were quickly able to throw the Wyatts from the ring. Dean eyed Cena with a sort of suspicious, begrudging gratitude, and Carly hurried away to meet up with the Shield.

She got there just in time to see Roman shaking hands with Cena. Dean didn't extend his hand to meet Cena's, but gave a stiff nod. It was safe to assume that the Shield had found themselves a third man for the match. Cena seemed to be the only one who was enthusiastic about this team-up.

"I know you said they didn't want any help, Carly," said Cena, "But the Wyatts are my problem, too. So I figured, why not?"

"Thank you," said Carly, smiling at him.

"See you out there, guys," said Cena.

He nodded to Dean and Roman and headed off towards the locker rooms. Dean grimaced, groaning exasperatedly.

"Cena, of all people," he complained, "We had things under control, Carly. Why didn't you stop him?"

"How am I supposed to stop that life-size GI Joe?" Carly protested, "He didn't take no for an answer. And anyway, what's so bad about teaming up with him just for one match? The sooner you dispose of the Wyatts, the sooner we can get back to work on more important things."

"She's right, Dean," said Roman, "We can deal, for tonight."

"Fine," Dean sighed, "As long as I get to beat the hell out of somebody tonight, I guess that'll have to do."

Carly watched as the Shield and Cena fought and defeated the Wyatts, but her mind couldn't focus on the match. The things Seth had said were still bothering her, and not just because they were awful. Something just wasn't right.

The answers they had gotten were no answers at all. Carly still didn't know what Seth got in exchange for his betrayal of the Shield. Maybe entrance into that ladder match? But no, the Authority wouldn't put him up against a top contender of their own. Well, she was certain they'd find out soon enough. The Authority loved to gloat, after all.

It was a bit of a let-down, not being able to see Seth brought to justice tonight. But he wasn't going anywhere, and neither was the Shield. Carly was going to make sure that the Shield got their revenge. She just wasn't sure how. There was the problem of Seth, which was personal and needed to be dealt with. But as Roman had pointed out, Randy Orton was also a problem that deserved their attention.

Still, they had the time and the resolve to take care of both issues, and it seemed they had the support of more people than the Authority would like to admit. Carly had the feeling that this was all building up to something. Something big.

(Note: Thanks to all the lovely people who left feedback! Due to an absurd amount of schoolwork, I'm going to take a week off and postpone putting up chapter 17 until Monday the 29th. Don't worry, I'm not abandoning ship. I'm having far too much fun writing this story for that, and a lot of the rest has already been written, or is at least planned out. I just need a little break to stay on top of all the nonsense I have to do for classes. Besides, next Monday is the 22nd and (if the word on the street is to be believed) we'll all be busy celebrating the long-awaited return of a certain crazy-eyed someone. Thank you for your patience, and I'll see you on the 29th: same WWE-time, same WWE-channel!)