The Art of the Possible

All things considered, Seth could safely say that his interview with Michael Cole went very well. Cole couldn't quite mask his disgust at Seth's behavior, which was to be expected. But how he got to be a journalist with that little objectivity, Seth would never know.

Seth had made use of some time-honored political tactics. Namely, creating the most oversimplified, unflattering caricature of your opposition and then belittling the hell out of them. And knowing Dean and Roman as well as he did, that was all too easy. Seth predicted that Hunter would be pleased with the results, and he was right.

Hunter'd taken it upon himself to personally escort Seth around WWE Headquarters. He waited outside the studio while the interview was filmed, and brought Seth up to his office for coffee afterwards. The conversation was a careful sort of friendly and polite for a while. Taking his cue from the photographs on Hunter's desk, Seth asked about his and Stephanie's kids – how old they were, what kinda sports and clubs they enjoyed in school, the usual stuff.

Hunter was happy enough to brag about his kids for almost half an hour, but eventually he paused thoughtfully.

"Now, I'm sure I know the answer to this already," said Hunter, "But I gotta ask. You don't have any particular loyalty to Carly, do you? I mean, after everything that happened, and you boys taking her under your wing like that, I'm concerned that you might feel you owe her something."

This was interesting. Better than that, it was telling. Now, it could just be Hunter making sure to cover all his bases before fully committing to accepting Seth, but Seth knew better. By asking that, Hunter had admitted to considering Carly a legitimate threat. Why? Did he know something? Was he just getting paranoid? Or maybe Carly'd made more of an impression than Seth had realized. Hmm… might be useful information. He'd have to remember that.

"Owe her?" Seth laughed, "Hardly. Carly was useful, that's all. And I have you to thank for that."

"Oh?" said Hunter, raising his eyebrows, "How so?"

"You made her into a martyr," said Seth, "I mean, having her opponents in that match use our finishers against her? Was that your idea?"

"Stephanie's, actually," said Hunter.

"It was brilliant," Seth said with a grin, "But it had the side effect of making the entire WWE Universe sympathetic to Carly. And if the Shield came in to save her from the 'big bad bosses,' well, then the crowd sides with us, too. Not to mention the fact that – for whatever reason, I mean, it's none of my business – Carly is Vince McMahon's pet. She's protected. By making her an ally, we benefitted from that protection."

"So," said Hunter, "What you're saying is that Carly was only ever a figurehead."

"More or less," said Seth, "I'm not gonna lie, she does have her moments. She's not a complete idiot. But the reality of it is that she'll never be a legitimate threat to you. She's too willing to jump headlong into situations that are way over her head. Sooner or later, something's gonna come along that she'll be too stupid to run away from, and that'll be the end of her."

Hunter nodded slowly, giving Seth a smile and a pat on the shoulder. Seth still wasn't sure that Hunter trusted him as much as he seemed to, but Hunter was evidently reassured by Seth's assessment of the situation. So far, so good. Seth could earn that trust. All he had to do was be exactly what Hunter wanted him to be – a good little cerebral assassin in training. Not too good, of course. Not enough to be a threat.

That following Monday, the Authority's plan (and, by extension, Seth's own plan) went into action. Hunter intended to hand the WWE WHC title and the MITB briefcase to Randy and Seth, without looking like he was just handing them over. The crowd never bought it for an instant, of course, but that didn't matter when you were with the Authority. The important thing was to keep up appearances. And, y'know, to keep the most prestigious title in the WWE from falling into the "wrong hands."

As for Seth, he just had to keep ahead of his former friends until after the pay-per-view, and he'd be golden. Easy as lying, right? No, Seth wasn't quite that arrogant, despite all evidence to the contrary. He was painfully aware that it'd be easier said than done.

After the public outcry (and geez, was it ever vehement) over his taped interview, the Authority decided to have Seth give a repeat performance live on Raw, to clear up any "lingering questions" the WWE Universe might have. In other words, to rub it in. It didn't matter how much the fans loved the WWE's own little Robin Hood wannabes. The Authority was back in control, and they wanted to prove it. So sending Seth out there while two trained fighters were out for his blood was their way of showing that they weren't scared.

Carly went and made sure the Shield got their say in first, unsurprisingly, and it was everything Seth expected. It still felt strange to him, being the target of Dean's rage again, hearing Dean spit his name like it was a curse. God, it really felt like ages since FCW. Of course, Roman hadn't hated him back then, so that was new. And it was different. Having a guy like Roman looking at you like that – like he's seeing every sin that's etched in your soul – really made you feel all kinds of worthless and insignificant. Or it would've, if Seth had cared what Roman thought of him. But as part of the Authority, Seth was above such things.

"Seth Rollins!" Dean was saying, "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."

Lie? Seth felt his stomach drop. Dean couldn't… Could he? Did he know?

"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."

Oh, God. Had Carly figured it out? Did she tell them? Was Dean about to blow his cover? No! Not after everything Seth had done to set this up. Shit, shit, shit…

"We're gonna listen to every word of it, and then we're gonna beat the hell out of you."

A dizzying sense of relief washed over Seth, so much so that he didn't hear a word Roman was saying. It was alright. Everything was fine. If they knew, Dean would've cussed him out for that instead. Seth's plan was still proceeding as expected. There was nothing to worry about, right?

Okay, well, not nothing. He still had to avoid getting the crap kicked out of him for the next month, not to mention for the rest of the night. He still hadn't had his own segment yet. But the Authority wasn't about to send Seth out there unprotected. That wouldn't be a good business decision at all, now would it? That's where the Wyatts came in. Whatever the hell they thought they were, they're surprisingly easy to bribe. Just offer Bray Wyatt more airtime in which to spout his crazy ramblings, and he'd fight whoever they wanted. (If you asked Seth, their whole shtick was just plain weird.)

It was all just a matter of drawing Dean and Roman out into the open, and a few choice incendiary comments were all it took. Call Dean a lunatic and Roman dangerous, call Carly out for her stupid choices, and…

To be honest, Seth had no idea why he did it. He'd been lying like a goddamn rug, and clearly to make himself look good, so why bring that up? Everybody knew Carly didn't really save his career, especially Carly. So why mention it, if it was only gonna make him look bad?

Maybe there was a part of him that still wanted somebody to figure this out, and call him on his bullshit. Anything to give him a sign that it wasn't so easy for them to believe that he's this egotistical backstabber. Stupid, stupid mistake. He'd have to be more careful.

So he said everything Hunter wanted to hear, everything the arrogant traitor Seth Rollins wanted everyone to believe, and then he called for his former "business partners." It was almost funny. Did they really expect him to stand his ground and face them two-on-one? No, Seth knew better than that. He knew to have the numbers advantage on his side. That's how the Shield always did things, right?

But still, they came. It was a testament to how much they hated him, how badly they wanted to pay him back for what he did. It didn't matter how many obstacles the Authority threw in their way. Dean and Roman didn't care. They weren't going to stop until they were satisfied that they'd gotten their revenge.

God, this was gonna be difficult. Not the constant threat of great bodily harm. Seth could deal with that. He was faster than either of them, anyway. The hard part was gonna be not looking them in the eyes. Seth had this weird feeling that they'd see right through him if he did. Or worse, that he'd know for sure that they didn't see right through him.

Still, it worked out in the end, and nobody was the wiser. Then Cena had to go and jump in to help Dean and Roman out. (Seriously, since when did Cena care about running to the rescue? The guy's left enough of his supposed "allies" for dead. Must just be because he's got a beef with the Wyatts.)

Anyway, it didn't matter. The Wyatts would keep Dean and Roman busy for the night, so Seth could just kick back and relax a little. The only thing he had to worry about was his match against Ziggler on Friday, and that was gonna be a piece of cake.

Seth had to admit, being part of the Authority did have its perks. The ritzy hotels were nice, sure, but the food. The food was amazing. Seth couldn't have imagined eating like this every day. Hell, he coulda fed himself for a week with the money Hunter dropped for a single meal. And then there were the luxury rental cars, and the interviews, and the clothes. Seth ended up with two new suits. No more rental tuxes or off-the-rack jackets that were close enough in size but still hung off him like shapeless sacks. Real suits, tailored to fit him perfectly.

Getting suddenly showered with all this luxury, it was almost enough to make Seth forget he was here on a mission. Almost. But when your only "friends" are the likes of Kane and Randy Orton and Paige, it's a constant reminder not to let yourself get comfortable. Seth wasn't safe. Even as Triple H's latest protégé, he knew that.

xXx

"Hunter, does it have to be a ladder match?"

Seth wouldn't accuse a man like Randy Orton of whining - at least, not to his face - but there was something petulant about the exasperated way he crossed his arms and leveled his gaze at Hunter.

"This is a pay-per-view match," said Hunter, his tone very patient, "It's in the company's best interest to make use of as many superstars as possible. Besides, nothing's going to go wrong. I'll make sure Kane gets into that match and he'll take care of any… unforeseen difficulties."

Seth got the feeling Kane might take issue with that arrangement. Randy didn't mention the fact that Hunter wasn't putting anybody in the contract ladder match to protect Seth, but from the way his gaze darted towards Seth and his eyes narrowed into a glare, Seth was pretty damn sure he was thinking it. Hunter smiled, laying a hand on Randy's shoulder soothingly.

"Come on," he said, "You're the Apex Predator, aren't you? You're the Viper, Randy Orton. I wouldn't be putting you in this match if I didn't have the utmost confidence that you're gonna walk away from it WWE World Heavyweight Champion. Alright?"

Randy exhaled forcefully, but Seth could tell Hunter's efforts to diffuse the situation had worked.

"Fine," said Randy, "But you better make sure Kane doesn't get any funny ideas about trying to take that title for himself, understood?"

"Understood," Hunter nodded.

With one last disapproving glance at Seth, Randy stalked off to be all tattooed and brooding someplace else. Hunter sighed, rubbing at his eyes briefly. Interesting. Hunter and Randy always presented a united front when they were having to deal with the likes of Daniel Bryan and the Shield. But without a common enemy, they're starting to butt heads. Seth pretended not to notice, of course, but he filed that little detail away. Who knows? It might work to his advantage to have those two at odds with each other in the future.

When Hunter turned to look at him, Seth was once again very aware of the necessity of not letting his face betray his thoughts. His whole plan depended on it, after all. Hunter didn't seem to notice anything was up. He just gave Seth a warm smile and clapped him on the back.

"Well, Seth," he said, "Ready to get out there and make an example out of Dolph Ziggler?"

"I can't wait," said Seth, grinning, "I haven't had an honest-to-God singles match in ages."

"You haven't gotten rusty since your NXT days, I hope."

There was a hint of a challenge in Hunter's inflection

"Not a chance," Seth said resolutely, "But why take my word for it? I intend to prove it in the ring."

The affable expression returned to Hunter's face.

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

Huh. Maybe keeping Hunter happy wasn't gonna be as hard as Seth thought. All he had to do was find a balance between being a ruthless go-getter and a non-threatening yes man and oh God nevermind, this was gonna suck.

But when it came time for Hunter to call him down to the ring, and he stepped through the curtain in his new suit, with his new haircut, he found it wasn't so hard to keep up the act. Clothes make the man, after all. And Seth wasn't that rebellious daredevil anymore, or even that hyped-up kid from the indies. He was part of the Authority – clean-cut, professional, and confident. Even the smoldering hatred from the crowd was easier to brush off at that point. He actually started to feel kinda zen or something, eventually. Just hitting all the buzzwords and bullet-points, everything that would make Hunter happy and the audience outraged.

Seth did worry he might be laying it on a little thick, what with all that stuff about skewering his friends and walking over their bodies, but Hunter seemed pleased. Figures. He's trying to impressive a sledgehammer-wielding tyrant, after all.

Dolph could show up uninvited and spew righteous indignation all he wanted. It wasn't gonna change a thing. It surprised him, though, just how up in arms Dolph got about all this. Seth wasn't sure if it was out of hatred towards the Authority, or loyalty to Carly, or… jealousy? Nah, couldn't be. Dolph was no sell-out. And at the end of the day, the "why" of it didn't much matter. Seth knew he was still going to beat that hapless schmuck, easy.

That just left the rest of the Shield to deal with, but Seth and Hunter had already discussed what to do about that particular problem. Now that they knew what the stakes were at the Money in the Bank pay-per-view, the Shield would do everything they could to get involved. The Authority was gonna nip that in the bud. Give one or the other of them a qualifying match, and make sure he doesn't win.

"It's one of the perks of having real authority around here," Hunter had said, "When you know what's best for business, you can make it happen without all the mucking around with protocol. Saves us a lot of time and effort."

The only remaining question was, which of the Shield boys would get the match? In Hunter's opinion, it was an arbitrary decision. But if Seth had any thoughts, Hunter would more than welcome the input.

Seth thought about it for a bit. There were pros and cons either way, but… This might be a chance to get a few brownie points, as far as Randy's concerned. Seth knew Randy had problems with Roman, if by "problems" you mean "petty jealousy." Because, just like Randy, Roman was a guy from a wrestling family, and a real crowd-pleaser (especially as far as the women fans were concerned). And with Roman's potential to be a main-eventer, Seth could tell Randy was starting to have something like a mid-career crisis.

That settled it. Dean would be the one to get a meaningless qualifying match, and Roman would be stalled out without even a rigged opportunity to show for it. The reasoning Seth gave was that it was more to their advantage to keep Dean occupied, since Dean would be more likely to cause a ruckus than Roman would. Seth never mentioned the other rationale. He knew that Randy would figure it out. Which was fine. The Authority was some weird kinda game of underhanded diplomacy, after all. Everybody knew that everybody else had ulterior motives, and they just accepted it.

Randy didn't say anything, but he narrowed his eyes slightly when Seth made his choice, and gave him a subtle nod. Guess the Viper was pleased by the gesture. Good. As long as the Authority considered Seth and ally and not a threat, he was golden. And judging by the little speech Dean and Roman gave that night, Seth made the right call. Everything was going according to plan.

Of course, there was one other person who'd probably figured it all out by this point – Carly. She'd spent enough time dealing with the Authority and strategizing with Seth that he'd be pretty disappointed in her if she didn't know what was going on. And, knowing Carly, she was probably already trying to think up some way to pull one over on the Authority and get Dean and Roman into those ladder matches.

It wouldn't work. Seth was almost certain of that. Or, if it did, it wouldn't be easy, and it'd cost her. It'd cost all of them. Not that that was gonna stop Carly from trying. Between her and the other two, Seth had never known three more stubborn people. It could be kinda interesting for him, though, seeing what Carly would come up with. Seth had been a part of all her other strategies. Now that she was flying solo, it might be fun to watch what she could do.

God, did he ever regret that thought later.

Seemed like the one thing Seth had underestimated was how goddamn annoying Carly was as an enemy. Honestly, he didn't know how Hunter and Stephanie hadn't gone crazy from dealing with her shit. Swapping out his music with an Elvis song? An Elvis song. Who would even think to do that?

Seeing her standing up there on the stage, all dolled up and dressed to the nines, she didn't look like Carly Caden any more than he looked like Seth Rollins. They were both completely different people now. Enemies. But the last time Carly'd been his enemy, she was the Authority's perfect doormat - some mousy little girl Friday for Brad Maddox.

Things were different this time around, and that was by design. Now Seth was the Authority's lapdog, and Carly was… well, she was what Michael Cole called her: the Rebel Princess. Look at her over there, laughing and giving him that trickster smirk, all while he was screaming that she was gonna pay for this. Oh, come on! Did she actually just blow him a kiss? Seth was having a hard time knowing how much of this was Carly being Carly and how much she'd picked up from Dean.

When Seth stalked back to the Authority, doing his best impression of being "in high dudgeon," he pretended not to notice the change in the atmosphere backstage. He couldn't quite put his finger on what, but something was… off. Usually, people kept their heads down around the Authority, especially the interns and other low-ranking employees. But Seth could tell people were outright staring at him. Not laughing at his misfortune or anything. They just stared, kinda thoughtfully, like they were making up their minds about something. Seth wasn't sure what was going on, but it was something he hadn't accounted for. He was gonna have to figure it out before it came back to bite him.

Randy seemed amused by the whole music-swapping business, but at least he had the decency to keep his mouth shut about it. Hunter, on the other hand, was a long-suffering sorta mildly irritated, which made sense. Carly'd made a career out of raining on his parade. At this point, he either had to have gotten used to it, or he was getting ready to snap. Seth hoped it was the former, for everybody's sake. Murder would be bad for business.

As the main event timeslot drew closer, Hunter turned expectantly to Seth. He didn't have to ask the question. Seth already knew what it was. Did he intend to leave this to chance, or was he going to ensure that things go according to plan? When the Cerebral Assassin asks you if you've got a plan or not, there's only one right answer.

And Seth knew exactly how to keep Dean from winning that match.

If he hadn't known Dean as well as he did, he would've been tempted not to interfere at all. Sustaining a shoulder injury early on? Bleeding from the chin (for, what was it now, like the fiftieth goddamn time?)? Against somebody like Wyatt, who was more agile than you'd think, not to mention the fact that he hit like a bus, those weren't good odds. But this was Dean Ambrose, and Dean Ambrose had a weird knack for turning an impossible situation on its head.

Seth could tell when the match was winding down. He signaled for the waiting security to follow him, and they strode quickly through the floor seats, up the aisle and through the timekeeper's area, reaching the announcers' table just as Dean planted Wyatt with his finisher. Ignoring the stunned commentators and the sudden outcry from the crowd, Seth leapt onto the announcers' table.

"Hey, Ambrose!" he shouted.

Finally, Dean saw him. His eyes got wide and he froze, like he'd completely forgotten that he had this match all but won, just like Seth knew he would.

"You want a piece of me?" Seth called out, "Is that what you want? Come on, Dean-o, I'm right here! Come on!"

And of course, Dean dragged himself right past Wyatt and out of the ring, staggering over to the announcers' table and making a grab for Seth. He was so damn determined to get his hands on Seth that it was almost too easy to jump past him, run just fast enough to avoid being caught, and lead him right into a Sister Abigail. Standing on the ramp, watching the final seconds of the match, Seth couldn't help but laugh. Sure, he knew Dean well enough to know that was gonna work, but he was kinda surprised at just how well it worked.

But this was familiar. In a sick, twisted way, it was just as familiar as being Dean's friend. Because they hadn't always been friends. Seth had never really known why Dean singled him out like that back in FCW. Dean had been angry with everything and everyone, but for some reason, he'd just sorta latched onto Seth as an outlet for all that. It hadn't made sense. And now, well, Dean's got a pretty good reason to make Seth the target for all his hatred.

There was no time to pursue that train of thought any farther, though, because Wyatt had gotten hold of a microphone. Probably gonna go off on some tangent about his cockamamie plans for becoming the World Heavyweight Champion. Well, 'tis the season, with that ladder match coming up. Not wanting to subject himself to any more of this weirdo's psychotic monologuing, Seth just about turned to go before he realized that Wyatt was talking to him.

"I know you, Seth Rollins," Wyatt was saying, "I've faced you before, and I've beaten you before, and I do not need your help to fight my battles."

Seth had to admit, that sick, vacant smile of his was weirdly mesmerizing, in a totally disturbing kinda way. Oh, hell, he couldn't just leave now. That'd be letting Wyatt get away with insulting him, and that'd reflect badly on Hunter. Seth couldn't afford to look like that much of a chump. Not much choice but to let the Eater of Whataburger have his say. After just getting done with a pretty physical match, Seth was sure he could put Wyatt down in a fight, if it came to that.

"But if you're willing, boy," Wyatt continued, "Why don't you step into this ring and we can take care of our problems, right now?"

On the one hand, Seth took issue with being called "boy" by somebody who's theoretically younger than him (depending on whether or not you believed this whack-a-mole really was some kinda eldritch abomination, or whatever) but there was the more pressing question of what the hell Wyatt was talking about. Did he actually want to fight Seth? Really? All on his lonesome, without his two beard-golems? Nah, that couldn't be it.

Wyatt never once looked away from Seth's face, but when Seth's gaze flicked down to the half-conscious remains of Dean Ambrose, Wyatt's eyes lit up. So that was his angle. Well, Seth was pretty damned sure they wouldn't be left to their own devices for long, so he'd better make the time count. Seth tossed his jacket aside and stepped through the ropes. After a brief staredown with Wyatt (a brief, really creepy staredown), they got down to the business of kicking the crap out of Dean.

Not thirty seconds later, a black-clad figure leapt into the ring and batted Wyatt away with a powerful right hand to the jaw, and Seth found himself face to face with Roman Reigns. How that chiseled face managed to look so pissed off and so disappointed at the same time, Seth would never know. Maybe the internet was onto something when they called him the Samoan Thor. But Seth didn't get the chance to analyze the situation any further. Roman hauled back and decked him, laid him out flat.

God, that was painful. Seth honestly wasn't sure which hurt more to get hit with: a sledgehammer, or Roman's fist. Seth dragged himself over to the ropes, dazedly struggling to sit up. Thankfully, Roman took time out of his rampage to help Dean to his feet, and while he was doing that, Thing 1 and Thing 2 showed up to help.

That would be the end of it, then. It wouldn't stop Dean and Roman from their little revenge quest, not hardly. But a beatdown like this would be enough to slow them down for a while. It'd buy Seth some time, and that was – oh, shit.

A pasty-white Irishman collided with Bray Wyatt, followed by a pair of Samoans ready to superkick Wyatt's lackeys to kingdom come. Suddenly, the odds weren't in Seth's favor anymore. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Time to scram.

Just as Seth started to make his way to the ropes, a heavy hand grabbed him by the collar and tossed him into the turnbuckle. Before he could slip out of the ring, Roman's forearm was across his chest, pinning him into the corner. Seth frantically tried to scramble free, bracing himself for another right to the jaw.

But it never came. Roman wasn't even looking at him. Why? Because he didn't want to? Because he couldn't bring himself to? Was he that disgusted with Seth that he couldn't even stand to look him in the face? What the hell was he waiting for?

Just past Roman's shoulder, Seth could see the Shield's ragtag bunch of allies making short work of the Wyatts. He could only assume Dean was dead on the floor somewhere, or he'd be getting in on the action. Maybe Roman was just planning to throw the numbers game back in his face. That had to be it. Wait for his buddies to clear the ring, and let everybody get a crack at the sell-out.

But Hunter would send the officials or security out here to break up the fight before that happened. Right…? He wouldn't go to the trouble of making Seth an official member of the Authority just to leave him to the wolves, would he?

Then, suddenly, Roman just sorta… let Seth go. What the hell?

Seth stumbled forward, hair falling in his eyes and obscuring his vision. The audience erupted with cheering, which almost drowned out the sharp metallic crack of a folding chair crashing against Seth's back. With the force of a freight train, something slammed into Seth's midsection, bowling him off his feet and knocking the wind out of him.

Hands grabbed at his arms and ankles, dragged him out of the ring. Seth was just aware enough to make out the striped shirts of the men holding him upright and guiding him backstage. About time this herd of useless goddamn zebras showed up.

The instant they were backstage, Seth irritably shrugged off the referees attempts to help. Where were they five minutes ago, huh? Somebody caught him by the arm, and Seth nearly shoved their hand away before realizing it was Hunter.

"You alright, Seth?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I'm… fine," said Seth. He took a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair, "The end of that didn't go as planned, that's all."

Hunter patted him on the shoulder, leading him away from the direction he'd been headed in (the trainer's room) and towards the nicer dressing rooms reserved for members of the Authority.

"Well, don't worry about it," said Hunter, "The broadcast ended as soon as the match did."

"What, really?" said Seth, raising his eyebrows in surprise, "You mean they didn't show…?"

"Of course they didn't," Hunter shook his head, "I had a feeling there might be some sort of… backlash over the outcome of that match. It's in the Authority's best interests not to let dissent in the ranks have free airtime, you know?"

"Right."

So, Hunter'd guessed that would happen. Well, knowing that, and knowing what he does about Hunter, Seth's now pretty convinced that the zebra cavalry's delay was none of his doing. Maybe "dissent in the ranks" wasn't limited to the wrestlers. Seth's brow furrowed. That… could be a problem.

Apparently having seen the shift in Seth's expression, Hunter put a hand on his shoulder, smiling at him.

"We'll talk about all of that later," he said, "For now, get changed, get back to the hotel, and get yourself some rest. Alright?"

Seth nodded and thanked him, and headed into his dressing room. A quick shower now and a good long one back at the hotel sounded fantastic.

He was right about one thing, though. It looked like everybody was completely convinced by his act. Carly treated him like she would any other corporate scum. Dean looked him dead in the eyes, and that old rage didn't falter for a second. As for Roman, well… Roman more looked through him than at him. All Roman saw was a target and a traitor.

Seth had done it, alright. His plan was working just fine. Nobody suspected a thing. But what did that say about him? Was there ever a moment that they couldn't believe he'd do something like this? If there was, Seth must've done a pretty good job of beating that hope out of them. Now, Seth didn't know which was worse: Dean hating him, or Roman despising him.

It was only a while later, after Seth was heading back to the hotel, that he realized something. Jimmy and Jey involving themselves in the brawl kinda made sense. They were having trouble with the Wyatts already. But what was Sheamus's stake in all this? He was no friend of the Shield, and he didn't have any sort of beef with the Authority. Up 'til now, Sheamus hadn't paid attention to much outside his rivalry with Cesaro. So why get involved?

First Dolph, then the Usos, and now Sheamus. It all seemed to come back to that weird shift in the mood backstage. People didn't stick their necks out for each other like that, not even the nicer ones. Not in this business. The only reason the Shield had started doing that was to stick it to the Authority, and the only reason they kept doing it was on Carly's say-so. But it wasn't just limited to Dean and Roman anymore. Was it all because of Carly, or because of him? Either way, Seth started to get the sinking feeling that he might've triggered something bigger than he meant to.

So far it'd only been, what, a week that Seth's had to deal with the Shield? And he's got a month-ish left to go. Hoo, boy. This was gonna be rough.

(Note: And we're back! And only seven months since the last update. Yikes... But, hey! I'm still working on this, and by God I'm gonna finish it. Just, y'know, not in a timely fashion, apparently. XP [You may have noticed I changed my username on here. Don't worry, it's still me. Just felt like it was time for a change in that regard.] Anyways, one of the difficulties I've had with these chapters is that I've been on the fence about how much to fully recap from Seth's perspective and how much to summarize. If any of you have thoughts as to what works better or which you'd prefer to see more of, I'd love the feedback, so please let me know. Once again, thank you all so much for the feedback and reviews and support, and thank you especially for sticking with this story through this unplanned hiatus. I can't tell you how awesome it feels to know there are people enjoying this story and looking forward to the updates. Thank you, and I'll see you - hopefully sooner rather than later - in the next chapter!)