Pride Goes Before

If Carly hadn't been totally focused on Dean's match against Seth on Friday, she would've noticed that Barrett had a match against Jack Swagger that night as well. If she'd even been paying the slightest bit of attention, she would've known that Barrett had been injured during it. But Carly hadn't been aware of any of that. Therefore, the news that Barrett would need surgery and therefore would be out of action for a few months completely blindsided her on Monday night.

Before Carly had a chance to panic, Triple H announced that Roman Reigns would still have his qualifying match that night. And instead of Barrett, Roman's opponent would be – Triple H. And that gave Carly a new reason to panic. If the Game himself was stepping into the ring for the first time since Payback, he wasn't coming to lose, and he wasn't coming to fight fair. It was almost a compliment, in its own terrible way. Triple H wanted to personally make certain that Roman did not get into that ladder match, and Carly was damn sure that they'd see some underhanded tactics before the night was through.

But before that, Dean was put in a match against Jack Swagger. Because who else would you throw at your enemy to keep them busy but the guy who just put somebody out of commission for months? Luckily, Dean was still riding high from his victory over Seth last week. Carly and Roman (who'd been banned from ringside, naturally) watched from backstage as Dean made short work of Swagger, to the crowd's delight and the Authority's irritation.

So that was one less thing to worry about. Or rather, that was one less thing for Carly to worry about. Roman wasn't concerned in the slightest. For him, the chance to knock the King of Kings down a peg or two was a better development than he could've hoped for. And Carly hoped that that's what would happen. She really did. But she had a bad feeling about the whole situation, and the fact that an intern hurried over to tell Roman that he had to come along for a backstage interview only made her more suspicious.

"Give me a second," said Carly, "I'll find somebody to go with you."

"Hang on," said Roman, grabbing her shoulder to stop her, "Don't worry about it. I'll be fine on my own."

"I know that," said Carly, "But after what happened on Friday, you know they're gonna make sure this isn't a fair fight. I really don't think you should risk going around unprotected like that."

As soon as she said the word 'unprotected,' Carly knew that it was the wrong thing to say. She knew that light flickering in Roman's eyes, like he'd just received a challenge. What was she thinking? She should've said almost anything other than implying that Roman needed to be protected. There'd be no reasoning with him after that. Roman Reigns could be every bit as stubborn as Dean was, it just came up a lot less often.

"Carly, I'm a grown man," said Roman, "I don't need anybody holding my hand."

"I never said-!" Carly protested, "Roman, I only meant that I'd feel a lot better if-"

"Carly," said Roman.

He folded his arms and looked down at her, raising his eyebrows. Carly knew that tone in his voice, too, but she'd only ever heard it applied to Dean's name, not her own. It meant 'no arguments,' and it left no room for negotiation. Carly sighed.

"Alright, fine," she said, "But if something stupid happens to you, it's not gonna be my fault."

"Nothing's gonna happen," Roman said confidently, flashing her a reassuring smile, "Go keep an eye on Dean, alright? I'll catch up with you both in a bit."

Carly sort of wanted to smack that stupid, cocky grin off his face. This was definitely not the time to go around trying to prove something. But at the same time, she really hoped he was right. As Roman walked off to get ready for the interview, Carly made her way back to the Shield's dressing room.

It wasn't like she didn't understand where Roman was coming from. Carly was an incredibly proud and stubborn person herself. She knew that. Still, there came a point when you just had to swallow your pride for a minute to make sure that things went your way in the long run. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Roman was as human as the rest of them. Not that he was any sort of saint in Carly's eyes, really. But he always seemed to be so much better than most at mastering his faults. Well, maybe she did kinda put him on a pedestal, and that made his rare moments of recklessness or stubbornness or selfishness seem surprising.

Thus lost in thought, Carly wasn't paying the slightest attention to her surroundings until she walked into the Shield's dressing room to find Dean in the process of changing shirts.

"Oh! Sorry," she blurted out, looking away.

Dean paused and stared at her. He wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"For what?" he asked.

That was a really good question. What on earth was she apologizing for? It's not like she'd been around the Shield for this long and hadn't seen all of them without a shirt at one point or other. It hadn't ever been awkward. Most wrestlers basically ran around in underwear and boots, anyway. There was absolutely no reason for Carly to feel this flustered right now. She just hoped to God that how warm her face felt at the moment didn't mean it was turning red.

"I-I don't…" she stammered, "I m-mean, I just-"

Dean tilted his head curiously.

"Are you…?" he started, a grin spreading across his face, "Princess, you're blushing."

Damn it. There went any chance at saving face in this mess.

"I'll come back later," Carly said, reaching for the door.

"You don't have to leave," said Dean, "I'm not shy."

And then he had to go and wink at her. The sheer impertinence of it rendered Carly speechless. She leveled a glare at Dean, which only seemed to amuse him further. He smirked and held her gaze as he turned around to continue changing.

Mortified as she was, Carly didn't look away. She wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd been able to fluster her anymore than she already was. Not like he could actually tell whether or not she was looking at the moment. Dean's back was to her as he unwrapped the tape from his hands, and Carly was just now noticing how almost perfectly proportioned his shoulder to waist ratio was. But she wasn't staring. She was just, y'know, making a point.

Then Carly saw something else she hadn't noticed before – a long vertical scar running down Dean's right shoulder, and another diagonal one on his right arm. It couldn't have come from his time in the WWE. Carly was certain she'd heard all the stories of the Shield's various injuries. Dean didn't seem to be aware that Carly had moved closer until she laid a hand on his shoulder, tracing the scar. She felt him tense slightly.

"Your hands are cold," he said.

"Where did this come from?" she asked.

"That," said Dean, facing her, "I got in a barbed wire deathmatch."

"A what?" said Carly.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, and Dean laughed.

"I forget, you don't know anything about the indies," he said, "It's just what it sounds like. Everything gets covered in barbed wire. Me and the other guy got so tangled up in it that they had to stop the match for ten minutes so a couple guys could get us out with wire cutters."

"That's… that's awful," Carly exclaimed, "Why would you do that to yourself? Why would anybody wanna watch that?"

Dean looked surprised, for a moment, at the alarm in Carly's voice and the horrified expression on her face. He talked about it so coolly, so matter-of-fact, like he couldn't imagine that the idea would shock anyone. Carly suddenly understood that there had been a time when that sort of thing was completely ordinary for him. Dean smiled again, a little bitterly this time, and looked down.

"People are messed up, Carly," he said quietly.

He swung one leg over the bench and sat down with his back to her, pulling his bag out of one of the lockers and rummaging around for a shirt. Carly was silent for a moment. Now that terrible image was stuck in her mind – Dean tangled up in barbed wire, cut and torn and bleeding. The idea of him being injured and alone didn't bear thinking about. It made her chest ache so badly that it felt like her heart would implode or something. Carly had the sudden, stupid, and impossible desire to reach back through time and stop him, just stop Dean before he put himself through these horrible things.

Dean pulled a clean shirt over his head, covering the scar. Carly sat down on the bench behind him. She reached out, wrapping her arms around him and folding her hands over his chest. She felt his body stiffen in surprise.

"What's this for?" he asked.

"I dunno. Just felt like the thing to do," Carly said lightly, resting her head between his shoulders, "Besides, after all the times you've used me as a pillow, you owe me."

"I'm not complaining," Dean said softly.

Dean relaxed slightly. He pressed one hand over both of hers, holding them against his chest. His match against Jack Swagger must've been more tiring than it looked. Carly could feel Dean's heart still pounding beneath her hands.

A commotion in the hallway made both of them look up. Carly released Dean and they ran to the door to see what was going on. Naomi was hurrying down the hall, and behind her were Jimmy and Jey, supporting a barely conscious Roman between them.

"What the hell happened?" Dean shouted.

"We gotta get him to the trainer's room," said Naomi, "I'll explain on the way. Come on."

Carly fell in step beside Naomi while Dean followed, nearly walking backwards to continue keeping an eye on Roman.

"That interview he had was a trap," said Naomi, "Kane and Seth and Randy Orton were waiting there to jump him while he was distracted. Me and the guys just happened to be passing by when they did, and we broke things up, but they'd already done a number on him at that point."

They made it to the trainer's room by the time Naomi finished speaking. Jimmy and Jey helped get Roman up onto the table and then stepped back so the medics could check him over. Dean hovered nearby anxiously. Carly and Naomi stood by the door, and the Usos came over to join them.

"Hey, I thought the plan was nobody goes anywhere alone," said Jey, "Why didn't you let us know Roman had that interview? We woulda had his back."

"I… He…" Carly pressed a hand to her forehead, "I never should've let him go off on his own. They could've… I'm sorry. Thank you so much for coming to the rescue like that."

"No problem," said Jimmy, "You shoulda seen this girl take down Randy Orton singlehanded."

He shot Naomi an admiring smile.

"Do you need us to stick around at all?" asked Naomi.

"No," said Carly, "I think we'll be alright. Thanks again."

After they left, Carly turned back to see that the medics had just finished examining Roman. Roman's eyes were open now, but he still looked like he was hurting pretty bad.

"Is he alright?" Carly asked.

"More or less," said one of the medics, "As far as we can tell, he most likely doesn't have a concussion, but that was a pretty vicious beating he took. We'd like to send him to a local hospital just to be on the safe side."

"Like hell you will," said Roman.

Roman tried to sit up, wincing in pain as he did. Dean quickly stopped him and eased him back down onto the table.

"Roman, it'd really be for the best if you-" the medic started.

"Not a chance," said Roman determinedly, "No way I'm letting myself get benched when I got that qualifying match tonight."

"You'll have that qualifying match," said Carly, "But not tonight. I'll get it postponed 'til Friday."

"How?" asked Dean.

"I've got a trump card I can play," said Carly, "I've been holding off until now, since I know it'll only work once. I'm gonna go over Triple H's head and call in a favor from Mr. McMahon. He can order Triple H to have the match on Smackdown instead."

"Except you're not gonna do that," said Roman, "Look, Dean, either help me up or get out of the way, alright? You're not calling in any favors, Carly, and we aren't putting this off. "

"You can't go through with the match, Roman," said Carly.

"Can't?" said Roman, "Or what? Are you going to stop me?"

The scornful, dismissive tone in his voice brought Carly up short. She stared at him, her mouth hanging open, too incredulously incensed to speak. He couldn't be serious. Even Dean seemed taken aback by Roman's attitude.

"You can barely stand," Carly spoke carefully to keep herself from yelling, "You can't fight in your condition."

"I can, and I will," said Roman.

"Not tonight," said Carly, "I'm calling Mr. McMahon."

She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and marched towards the door.

"Stop!" Roman said, "Don't you dare. You put that phone away right now, Carly. I'm warning you."

Carly stopped dead in her tracks, turning to glare at him.

"You don't get to bark orders at me, Roman Reigns," she snapped, "What is the matter with you?"

"I'm not hiding behind anybody, understand?" said Roman, "Not you, not Vince McMahon, not anyone!"

A sharp, disbelieving laugh burst from Carly's lips.

"Is that what this is about?" she said, "It's some kind of macho thing? You just wanna prove what a big man you are, consequences be damned."

"So what if I do?" said Roman, raising his chin defiantly, "I'm not just some rookie kid anymore. I'm not just that guy who isn't Seth Rollins or Dean Ambrose, who went to college and played football while they were making names for themselves in the indies. It's time I make a name for myself. I'm gonna make them take me seriously. And this? A match against Triple H himself? This is my first chance to do that, and you're not gonna take that away from me."

"You don't need my help for that," Carly said acidly, "You seem to like throwing away your own chances just fine."

"Carly-" Dean interrupted.

"Don't – don't talk to me right now, okay?" said Carly, "Just stay with Roman and make sure he doesn't do anything else stupid, if he can help it. I'm going to see if I can't figure out some way to fix this. Be quiet, Roman. You don't get to talk either."

Carly turned and stormed out of the trainer's room, nearly knocking down some hapless interns along the way. She took off down the hallway. She didn't care exactly where she ended up as long as it was away from people. Of all the stupid, idiotic-! Carly paused a moment to kick over a row of folding chairs that were leaned up against the wall, relishing the harsh sound of steel clattering against concrete.

Carly burst through a set of doors and found herself outside the arena. She stopped and tried to breathe. Of all the days Roman could pick to go off on some sudden urge to prove himself, why now? After everything they'd gone through to get him this opportunity, and he was going to go and blow it.

She had to calm down. She had to think. There had to be something she could do. She couldn't try to call in a favor from Mr. McMahon. Roman would be furious at her for going over his head like that. And anyway, no matter how practical it was, pulling rank like that looked weak. It looked like something the Authority would do.

It was hopeless. The Authority controlled the game. They controlled all the rules. They were intentionally putting Carly and the Shield in an unwinnable situation. Unless… Maybe Carly couldn't change the rules, but there was definitely a way that she could exploit them. She had an idea.

Finding Adam Rose was never difficult. All you had to do was follow the sounds of loud music and there he'd be, in amongst a colorful crowd of Rosebuds. Carly had made certain nobody saw where she'd gone, but now it was easy to get lost in the shuffle. Thank goodness this crazy bunch were her allies.

"Adam!" she called over the music.

Hearing his name, Adam beckoned Carly over. The Rosebuds cleared a path so she could get to him.

"Carly!" Adam smiled, holding out his hand to her, "What can I do for you, my darling?"

"I have a favor to ask," she said.

"Go on," said Adam.

He stuck his lollypop into his mouth and furrowed his brows in concentration. Carly had to take a fraction of a second to appreciate the weirder-than-usual weirdness she was about to get herself into.

"You know how Triple H is a lemon?" said Carly, "Well, I'm gonna play a trick on him. But to do that, I'm going to need a disguise. Can you help me?"

"Hmm," Adam said thoughtfully, looking Carly over, "I imagine you're about the same size as Liz. Don't you think, Liz? You'll be able to borrow some of her things. Come on, everyone! Back to the Exotic Express!"

Concealing Carly in their midst, Adam led the Rosebuds partying off to the parking lot.

xXx

Aside from the Bunny, the Rosebuds changed costumes so often that nobody ever really paid enough attention to count them or remember who was who. It was almost too easy for Carly to blend in. But to be sure that they completed the illusion, Carly went with them to accompany Adam Rose to his match, dancing and cheering along like she was one of them. Nobody had been the wiser.

Now that she was alone, Carly thought she might be in more danger of being recognized. But it seemed that everyone had gotten so used to random Rosebuds running around at this point, that no one paid any attention to one hanging around the backstage area, as long as she didn't get in the way. Besides, she didn't look a thing like herself in this disguise. She was decked out in a shiny Captain America style dress, with silver wrist sleeves and red boot covers. Top that off with a silver mask and a very high-quality blonde wig, and Carly was certain her own mother wouldn't recognize her. Now it was just a matter of playing it cool until the time came to make her move.

And from the looks of things, she wouldn't have long to wait. The match was not going well. Roman was fighting his hardest, but anyone could see that he was far from being at one-hundred percent. That three-on-one beatdown would've sent pretty much anyone else to the hospital immediately. It was amazing that Roman could stand upright at all. He rallied for a few moments, but of course it was short-lived. Triple H appeared to know exactly where Roman was hurt, and was blissfully exploiting that knowledge. He could've gone for the pin and ended this whole thing for a while now. That wasn't Triple H's goal, however. He intended to do what he'd promised back before Payback – to make an example of Roman Reigns, and to take his time doing it. It made Carly sick. She wasn't going to stand there and watch this any longer. It was time.

Before anyone knew what she was doing, and before anyone could stop her, Carly bolted out across the stage and down the ramp. Roman was flat on his back in the ring, being circled by Triple H who, with a devious smile, was contemplating how to torture him next. Through some miracle, Carly managed to slide into the ring without tripping. Triple H and the referee watched, dumbfounded, as she leapt on top of Roman. Carly grabbed onto his vest with one hand and raised the other. Too dazed to react, Roman tried to force his eyes to focus, staring up at her uncomprehendingly. Carly punched him in the face as hard as she could.

Pain shot through every bone in her hand and all the way up her arm. It felt like she'd just punched a concrete wall. But this was no time to wimp out. Carly pulled back her hand to strike again when she heard the referee shouting and the bell ringing for a disqualification. Thank goodness. Carly didn't know if her hand could've held up for another punch.

The referee grabbed her arm and dragged her off of Roman. He herded her past a too-shocked-to-be-furious Triple H and ordered her out of the ring. Having no desire whatsoever to be anywhere closer to Triple H than she needed to be, Carly complied. She backed slowly up the ramp, wringing her aching hand.

"As a result of a disqualification," Lillian Garcia's voice rang out, "Your winner and the final entrant in the WWE World Heavyweight Championship ladder match – Roman Reigns!"

xXx

"What in the world just happened? And who was that masked girl?"

"A better question is what on earth did Roman Reigns ever do to Captain America?"

"JBL, I don't think that's the real Captain America."

"You don't know that, King! That's a sexist thing to say. Thor's a woman now, so why couldn't Captain America be one, too?"

"Well, regardless of who that was, the fact remains that she ensured Roman Reigns a place in that ladder match, and Triple H does not look happy."

xXx

Carly stood at the top of the ramp, laughing. Triple H was shouting in the ref's face, but the ref refused to budge. Roman was sitting up now, being tended to by the medics. He looked past them over towards Carly, an expression of total bafflement on his face. Good. He never knew what – or who – hit him.

It was about time to make a retreat before the Authority had a chance to regroup. Carly turned to go backstage only to find herself face to face with Randy Orton. Oh, hell. He made a grab for her and she dodged back. Carly turned and fled, leaping off the stage and ducking under the lighting display as she ran.

Carly sped through the halls with Randy Orton hot on her heels.

"Stop her!" he shouted, "Stop that girl!"

A few of the employees made half-hearted attempts to obey, but only enough to make it look convincing. Panic was starting to rise in Carly's chest as ragged breaths tore at her throat. There was no way she could outrun Randy Orton for long. If he caught her and found out who she was, her whole plan would go up in smoke. The decision for the match would be overturned, and Dean would probably be kicked out of his spot in the ladder match, too. She had to get somewhere safe, and quickly.

Carly darted around a corner and nearly collided with Stardust. That alone cost her too much momentum.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw me!" she managed to gasp, before throwing herself under a table just in the nick of time.

She heard Randy Orton stop short as he rounded the corner. Carly positioned herself so she could just see him standing next to Stardust, glancing around in confusion.

"Where did she go?" he demanded.

"Where did who go?" asked Stardust, "Oh, is it a riddle? I love riddles."

"A girl ran by here," said Orton, "Which way did she go?"

"Can she tell me how to find the cosmic key?" said Stardust.

"I'm warning you-" Orton growled.

"Ah, but as the solstice approaches, things are changing," Stardust said insistently, "A shift in the constellations. Orion is falling. Cassiopeia ascends. Haven't you seen it rising above the horizon?"

Randy Orton looked at him in utter disgust.

"I liked you better when you thought you were dashing," he muttered.

With one last glance around, he turned and went back the way he came. Carly stayed under the table until the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance. She barely stifled a startled gasp when Stardust suddenly stuck his face down next to hers.

"The sky will be clear tonight," he said, "And the best time for meteors is just before dawn."

"Uh, right. Thank you," said Carly, "Thanks for that."

She scrambled out from under the table, and Stardust helped her to her feet. Carly stared for a moment at the hyperactive alien child who may or may not actually be Cody Rhodes, not sure what else to say. He and Goldust had remained resolutely unaligned with either the Authority or the rebel alliance. Still, it was nice of him not to rat her out like that.

Suddenly, Stardust's eyes widened. He stared past Carly down the hallway.

"There isn't a Man in the Moon at all," he whispered urgently, "There's only the Moon Rabbit."

Carly turned around to see what on earth he was talking about now, and it turned out he was actually making sense for the first time. The Bunny stood at the end of the hallway, furtively beckoning to Carly with one paw. Or hand. Whatever. It'd been a weird day.

"Thanks for the help, Stardust," said Carly.

She hurried off after the Bunny. Carly got the sense that this whole crazy scheme had been a whirlwind trip through Wonderland, and now she was following the White Rabbit to get back to reality. The Bunny led her, with a surprising amount of stealth, back to the bus. He stood guard outside, leaning nonchalantly against the door while Carly changed back into her own clothes.

"Thanks," she said, as she stepped out of the bus, "You'd better get back before anybody starts getting suspicious."

The Bunny nodded. Then he held out a fist, like the Shield. Carly grinned and put her fist beside his for a second. With a parting pat on the shoulder, the Bunny scurried back into the arena. Carly headed for the car instead. It was nice outside, so she figured she'd wait for Dean and Roman there.

Up until this moment, she hadn't really thought about whether or not she'd be up front about what she'd done. Maybe Roman would be mad at her. If he was, he didn't have any right to be. She'd waited as long as she could before interfering. And anyway, she wouldn't have had to pull that crazy stunt if he hadn't been so damn stubborn and insisted on going through with the match tonight. The more Carly thought about it, the more annoyed she got.

She hopped up onto the trunk of the car and pulled out her phone to distract herself. She was surprised to see that she had a ton of texts. And all of them… were from Dean. In an increasingly worried tone, each text asked where she was, and what was going on, and to at least just let them know that she was alright or something. Had it really been over an hour since she'd stormed out of the trainer's room? She'd completely lost track of the time.

A painful little twinge of regret clawed at Carly's stomach. Going off on her own, not telling anyone where she was or what she was planning, never once considering that somebody might be worried – that's exactly how Dean had been acting before. And hadn't she hated it when he did? Hadn't it hurt Roman, being made to worry like that? Wasn't it stupid of him?

It was stupid of her. She was so very, very stupid. Before she had a chance to think better of it, Carly deleted all the texts, telling herself it'd be easier just to say she hadn't ever received them. She hated herself for it. She hated herself for this whole stupid mess. By the time Dean and Roman showed up, Carly had sunk so miserably far into self-loathing and injured pride that there was no going back. She just wanted to be alone. So of course she covered for herself by being an absolute jerk to Dean and Roman, because that made any sort of sense at all.

Carly slid down from the trunk and stared evenly at them. Roman was managing to walk alright, but he was leaning on Dean and it was obvious that he was still hurting. Dean looked kind of put off when he noticed Carly's stony silence.

"We're in," he said at length, in an almost hopeful tone.

"So I've heard," Carly said shortly, "I hope you're proud of yourself."

She glared at Roman. He looked down and said nothing, and Carly hated herself all the more for snapping at him. But it was too late to pull out of this nosedive. She just had to accept the inevitability that she was gonna crash and burn.

"Keys," she ordered, holding out her hand to Dean.

He handed them over diffidently, and not another word was spoken for the whole drive back to the hotel. Carly tried not to even look at Dean and Roman. She was too busy stewing in her own wretchedness.

When they got back to the boys' hotel room, Carly grabbed the ice bucket and ordered Dean to get Roman some ibuprofen and then have him lay down. Then she stormed out of the room to find the vending machines. As soon as she made sure they were both set for the night, she could go back to her own room and reflect on the immaturity of her actions in peace.

Dean looked almost afraid of her at this point, and Roman was still averting his gaze warily. Neither of them spoke. Carly took it upon herself to fill the silence by making as much noise as possible, like that was gonna help at all. She clattered around at the sink, making up an ice pack, then marched over to Roman's bed.

"Where does it hurt?" she asked frostily.

"Here," Roman said quietly, "My ribs."

Carly set the ice down where he indicated very gently, Maybe too gently, like it was too far a swing from the violent racket she'd been making. But what did it matter now? She had the rest of the night to cool off, and then she'd apologize to them both in the morning. As she started to leave, she caught Dean looking at her like he wanted to say something.

"What? Oh," Carly sighed in frustration, "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

Dean shook his head.

"Alright, I'll go run and get you some pizza," she said, "Make sure he keeps that ice on for fifteen minutes."

Carly's mood didn't really improve by the time she got back, except that she was feeling more ashamed of herself than ever. She didn't want to have to face Dean and Roman again that evening. Not with the way she'd been acting. Carly took a deep breath. She just had to make this quick and then get out of there.

She let herself into the room without knocking and tossed the keycard she'd back down on the dresser. Roman was looking much better by then. He was sitting propped up on a stack of pillows, and Dean was leaning against the desk. Carly brushed past him to set the pizzas down on the bed.

"There – food," she said briskly, "You shouldn't be sitting up. Get some rest. Goodnight."

"Carly, wait a minute," said Roman.

He reached out and grabbed her hand to stop her. As his fingers closed around her still-hurting hand, Carly couldn't suppress a pained yelp. Roman released her quickly, staring at her in surprise. Carly inwardly cursed herself as she watched Roman's face and saw that all his suspicions had just been confirmed.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked.

Carly scowled at him.

"I tried to reason with a brick wall," she said, "And when that didn't work, I punched it in the face."

Roman leaned back against the pillows, the ghost of a wry smile pulling at his mouth.

"So it was you," he said.

"Brilliant deduction. You got me," said Carly, throwing her hands up, "Now goodnight."

She turned to leave only to find Dean blocking her path. He held onto her shoulders when she tried to get past him. He didn't seem any more surprised by this revelation than Roman had, and she assumed they must've talked it over while she was out getting food.

"Come on, don't go away mad," he said, "Just sit down and let me have a look at that hand, alright?'

"It's fine," said Carly, "I'm fine."

"Please?" said Dean.

There he went again with his stupid smile and those stupid puppy-dog eyes. Carly heaved a resigned sigh and sat down on the bed. She made sure to keep her back to Roman, so at least he wouldn't see how badly her face was flushed with embarrassment right now. Dean sat down next to her and held out his hand expectantly. With a glower of reluctance that didn't affect Dean in the slightest, she gave him her hand.

"I know what it feels like to punch those chiseled good looks," said Dean, grinning.

"I'm not sorry," she said petulantly.

"Alright, Carly," said Dean, "Alright."

As he gently pressed against the bones of her hand, Carly mumbled answers to his questions of where it hurt and how badly.

"Doesn't look like you broke anything as far as I can tell, probably just bruised everything pretty good. No, don't get up," said Dean, "You're not done. You're gonna sit there and ice your hand. Because I don't trust you to do it on your own, that's why. Don't complain to me. You brought this on yourself."

Carly sat on the edge of the bed and continued to sulk while Dean and Roman ate. The uncomfortable coldness of the ice on her hand cooled her temper a little, after a bit. She was pretty ashamed of her behavior. She'd made a fool of herself, and then just kept making it worse instead of stopping. She could've stopped. She should've. She might as well bite the bullet and apologize now, at least.

"Roman, I'm sorry," said Carly, "I'm sorry that I yelled at you and punched you in the face and… y'know, and that I was an absolute jerk in general. I never knew you felt that way, about wanting to prove yourself and all. But I get it now. I understand why you wanted to do this on your own. I just didn't want it to jeopardize everything we've been working for, or for you to get hurt or something. I know that's not an excuse."

Carly finally looked back at Roman after she finished talking. He was watching her with a faint smile on his face, and he reached one arm out to her.

"C'mere," he said.

Carly crawled across the bed to hug him gingerly.

"I forgive you," said Roman, "I should've listened to you in the first place, so it's not like I didn't sorta deserve somebody knocking some sense into me."

"The literal route is usually the best one when it comes to knocking sense into Roman," Dean said around a mouthful of pizza.

"You'd know, wouldn't you," Roman chuckled.

"Dean, I'm sorry I was a jerk to you, too," said Carly.

"What, I don't get a hug?" said Dean.

Carly obligingly hugged him as well, and he laughed.

"Don't worry about it," he said, "We're all bound to snap sooner or later, being under the gun like this. Just, y'know, it'd be nice if you didn't do it again."

He leaned over to press a kiss to the side of her head. Carly smiled, grateful for his forgiveness and Roman's. He was right. Dean had gone rogue in chasing after Seth. Roman had stubbornly gambled everything they'd worked towards. And now Carly had taken matters into her own hands, teamwork be damned. Well, at least she was in good company in her mistakes.

"Are you okay, Roman?" she asked, "I mean, you kinda got the daylights beat out of you twice in one day. How are you feeling?"

"Stiff and sore," said Roman, "I'll be glad to have a few days off to rest, but believe me, I've been worse."

"That's good," said Carly, "And how's your face? I'm guessing I hurt myself more than I hurt you."

Roman grinned wryly and rubbed at his cheekbone.

"You're no slouch with a right cross, princess," he said, "Y'know, when I looked up and saw some little blonde Rosebud ready to clock me, I almost thought I was losing my mind."

"Speaking of which, I think you owe us a story," said Dean.

So Carly related the whole fiasco, starting from the moment she stormed out on them – how she decided that since the Authority had already cheated without technically breaking any rules to ensure that Roman lost, she could do the same to turn it back in the Shield's favor. She knew that attacking Roman would automatically disqualify Triple H, meaning that Roman technically won the match and the spot in the pay-per-view. Of course, Carly knew that she wouldn't be let anywhere near the ring during the match, hence the crazy disguise.

"I waited as long as I could," she said, "But I didn't want to give Triple H the chance to hurt you any worse."

"I'm gonna tell you something that doesn't leave this room, alright?" said Roman, "Trips had me beat. I mean, after getting attacked like that, I barely stood a chance. He knew it. I knew it. Well, I figured it out pretty quick. You were right, Carly, I never should've gone through with it. I was… I was gonna lose. If you hadn't pulled that sleight of hand when you did…"

Roman trailed off. It was clear that this failure weighed heavily on him, especially after everything he'd said about wanting to be taken seriously, not seen as some rookie.

"Well, one way or another," said Carly, "It went our way in the end."

"Guess it did," said Roman, but he didn't look convinced.

"You'll show everybody come Sunday," Carly said resolutely, "Mark my words, you're walking out of that pay-per-view as the new WWE World Heavyweight Champion."

The firm declaration of faith in him brought a smile to Roman's face and a light of eager determination to his eyes. It wasn't the stubborn pride that he'd buried himself in earlier. This was true confidence.

"Hey, turn around for a minute," he said suddenly.

"Why?" Carly asked as she complied.

"I'm returning a favor," he said.

Roman pushed Carly's hair to one side and started massaging her shoulders.

"Don't do that," Carly protested, "You should be resting."

"Psh, I'm fine," said Roman, "But geez, are you always this tense?"

"Um, my back doesn't feel any different than normal," said Carly, "So I'm gonna go with yes? Roman, you don't have to-"

"No, I wanna fix this," he said.

"Is it really that bad?" asked Carly.

She'd never really paid that much attention to how her back felt.

"You're more knots than not, princess," said Roman.

"Don't say you're sorry," Dean and Roman said almost simultaneously.

Carly, who had been about to do just that, ducked her head and mumbled something unintelligible instead. The boys laughed.

"So today was kind of a disaster," said Dean, reaching for another piece of pizza, "Well, it was for you two, I mean. I had a good match."

"You did, actually," said Roman, "I never got a chance to tell you, but you did good work out there."

"Thanks," said Dean, "But anyway, so what if today was weird? Me and Roman are exactly where we need to be, and we're gonna take home the victories on Sunday, and that is the only thing that matters now."

(Note: I didn't want to leave you guys hanging for too long, so I decided to split what I had planned as Chapter 21 into two chapters, since I had the first part finished but not the second. Thanks to the lovely people who left reviews, and thanks to every for being patient with my temporary lack of consistency in posting these things.)