It's that time again!
Squeegee Beckinhime, Sorry to keep you in anticipation, although hopefully that's kind of a good thing as well? Drawing it out a little longer in this one, but help is definitely on the way!
Mandy *Laughs cruelly* YES! Don't worry, I promise I'll put them back together when I'm done.
Skovko, I'm not very good at oneshots, I'm too waffly. As for your other point, yes, for the purposes of this story, Wade is very evil. I don't know why but...well, he just is! I don't think I can really do full-on dark. Peril? Yes. But I'm a quippy kind of person, so that's just how my writing comes across. I'm not very good at stern and serious!
AngelOfDeathOfWrestling, I'll be honest, I would love to snap my fingers and have the prequel written but I'm horrible at prequels, like hopeless. Plus I like a bit of levity here and there (not that you would know it from the last/next few chapters) and knowing that the prequel would be all doom and gloom kind of puts me in a funk. Never say never though! If it's any help, I've already written a sequel?!
Guest, I hope your heart can hold out through this next one (and the one after that!) I'm super pleased you're enjoying it though. I aim to please!
Ninjoy, I know, I know, I was cruel in that chapter, but what can I say? I've gotta up the ante somehow, right?! As for where Seth and Roman are? Look no further...
Look For Me Baby
Roman pulled up outside swanky the offices with an actual, genuine squeal of the brakes. His tires scuffed the curb and rattled the chassis but that didn't matter, very little did.
Seth was out ahead of him and streaking towards the building, casting around the narrow alley for signs of Sheamus' van. It wasn't there, which wasn't a good thing but it was still their best chance at getting Dean back and so they forged ahead anyway.
Maybe The League had parked inside?
The first door they came to was locked and unflinching and it simply wouldn't open no matter how hard Roman pulled. As Seth dashed further along to try the next one, Roman drove his fist into the wood and then sighed.
Calm down Reigns, just take it easy.
But how the hell was he supposed to do that? His best friend – his brother – was potentially inside, drugged up to his eyeballs and being carved up like a pumpkin on Halloween night. He was so pent-up and out of his mind worried that it was beginning to cloud his judgement and paint a red mist across his eyes.
He wanted to hurt The League like he'd never wanted anything.
He wanted them to suffer.
They needed to pay.
"This one's locked as well," Seth bellowed down at him and the helplessness bubbled up from deep inside Roman until it burst in a war cry that was as desperate as it was loud. He almost missed the click of the door in front of him but when he glanced down it was into big and worried brown eyes.
An elderly Hispanic night cleaner was staring up at him, with a rubber glove wound uncertainly around the handle and a mop in the other which she was brandishing like a sword.
Clearly the sight of a big angry Samoan was enough to frighten the geriatric half to death but her attempted departure had given them an opening and as she went to bang the door shut, Roman quickly shot out his hand. Her panic was by no means a match for his muscles and he held it easily, one hand raised to keep her calm,
"It's okay," he offered, trying to sound soothing but unable to keep the growl out of his voice, "We're the police, alright? La policia?"
"Que?"
It didn't seem to work and so he turned back up the alley and roared to his teammate before gesturing,
"Seth!"
The smaller man came sprinting back towards him like a racehorse, his hair flying wildly where it had slid from its bun. His eyes were wide and wild with confusion but as he saw the open door, he grinned with relief,
"Thank god man, how'd you get it open?"
As Seth jogged up, Roman stepped across the threshold and as his teammate dove in after him he collided with the maid,
"Oh, wow, sorry ma'am,"
Roman growled,
"Don't bother, I tried to explain, she doesn't want to know."
As if to illustrate his point a little better, the little cleaner skittered backwards and unleashed a string of words. Seth wasn't sure if she was scared or simply pissed at them but eventually he settled on a mixture of both.
They left her behind as they tore through the corridors, taking the stairs almost three at a time. Roman knew the way and so Seth shut up and followed him, feeling the breath tearing out of his lungs. It was almost like he could sense they were close to Dean but not close enough.
They needed to get to him.
Like yesterday soon.
Roman burst through the doors of Del Rio's offices like an action movie hero, virtually blowing them off the wall. Beyond them lay a waiting room, shrouded in darkness but still light enough to make out a reception desk and chairs.
"Come on," he grumbled, stalking across the carpet and to a series of doors across the other side. There were a sequence of rooms that led off one from the other, one of which was an operating room. It was small but had all the requisite machinery.
The only thing it was missing was Dean.
"Fuck."
Again Roman threw his fist against the drywall and then ran frustrated hands through his hair. Del Rio's place had been their best option. It had felt like Dean was there.
Where the hell had they gone?
"What now man?" Seth blinked across at him, looking to him for guidance that he simply didn't have, "Roman? Roman?"
The younger man yelped as Roman threw another punch, launching it so hard into a monitor that it exploded into pieces and threw out a spark.
"I don't fucking know what next Seth,"
"Alright man, fucking calm down before you tear up the place. We need to think – ,"
"Think what?"
"I don't know."
A wash of despair swept over the big man and he shook his head wearily and let his shoulders droop,
"It's been too long, what if they've already – ,"
Seth whirled around with a finger held up,
"No. Don't say it Roman, do not fucking go there. Dean is alive man, he's fucking alive."
To emphasise his point, he shoved Roman bodily and the older man stumbled backwards and collided with the bed. It scooted back across the floor just a little but coldness of the metal made the Samoan man halt.
For a second the two of them stood there in silence and then slowly Roman sucked a breath in and nodded his head,
"You're right,"
Seth sighed,
"You're damn straight I am. This is Dean Ambrose we're talking about. All we gotta do is think where they might have taken him. Does Del Rio have other offices? Own any other place?"
"I don't know," Roman swallowed, before frowning a little and Seth was relieved to see determination spark in his eyes, "But that bastard's office is right across the hallway so if we're going to find answers, they'll be in there."
Together they stalked their way back through the darkened waiting room and towards a name-tagged set of grandiose double doors. Fortunately they weren't locked so they let themselves in quietly and Seth flipped on the lights and then whistled at what he saw,
"Looks like Del Rio is doing pretty well for himself. This office is bigger than Stephanie's man."
"Furnished with blood money," Roman growled back sharply, sweeping through some notelets, "See what you can find."
Together they went through every scrap of paper, prying drawers open and rifling through the trash. Their detective instincts were working in overdrive and they were so completely focused that the ring of Seth's cell phone made them both jump,
"Steph," he answered, dispensing with the formalities, "Hit us with it, what have you got?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?" Seth bit back bitterly, "What do you mean nothing?"
"What do you think I mean? Apart from being ridiculously wealthy, Alberto Del Rio comes back clean. He makes no more or less than other doctors in the district and he has no offshore bank accounts, at least that we could find."
"What about other properties? Any offices or warehouses? Anywhere he could operate from?"
"Not that we've found."
"Shit," Seth breathed out, pulling his hair fiercely and shaking his head at Roman, "Rusev?"
"Still out for the count. Thank you for that one. I assume you boys have nothing as well?"
"We're still looking."
"Well you need to look harder, they've already got the jump on us."
"God damn it we know."
"Don't shout at me Rollins," Stephanie shot back harshly, "This is your screw up."
"You can go to hell."
"Rollins – ," she fired at him, eight kinds of angry but Seth bit back his response as Roman quickly raised a hand. It was a warning gesture, but not about his attitude, instead his teammate's eyes were trained on the door.
Huh?
Dropping the phone from his ear, Seth listened, hearing little initially except the traffic noise outside. He glanced across at Roman, frowning at him mildly and was about to ask what when he heard it as well.
The waiting room doors were banging closed.
They'd been opened.
Seth tensed.
Some fucker was coming in.
At once he disconnected the call from the commissioner, taking his tally of hanging up on her to two. He flicked it onto silent then followed Roman across the office, positioning themselves in the blind spot behind the door.
"You think it's Del Rio?" Seth murmured huskily and Roman scowled darkly,
"I damn well hope it is."
Silently, both men pulled their weapons out and stood waiting for their chance to rain down merry hell. The figure that pushed through not two seconds later was muttering to himself rapidly and shaking a bearded head,
"Fucking crazy," a Celtic brogue gabbled, "The pair of them must be out of their tiny minds."
He was halfway across the office before Roman slammed the door shut and the Irishman jumped clean off the ground in surprise,
"What the fuck – ,"
"Hold it right there," Seth barked sharply, as both he and Roman moved fully out into the room. Their guns were trained simultaneously on the trafficker and his eyes in turn were focused on them. He looked a million conflicted emotions, but bewilderment was probably the clearest of the lot.
"Who the fuck are you two?"
Roman ignored him,
"Where's Dean?"
"Dean? I – I don't know any Dean feller. Put the guns down, why don't we talk about this, okay?"
Letting out a sigh, Seth stepped in closer, his voice sounding pinched as he forced out a growl,
"Jon Moxley – where the fuck is Jon Moxley?"
That got a reaction.
A big one at that.
Sheamus' head almost jerked back off his shoulders the response was so violent. Then the red brows drew in close. In an instant Sheamus was nearly all but caught up with them, he just needed one last little thing confirmed,
"You the law?"
Roman glowered,
"We're worse than that, trust me. Now tell us where the hell Dean is."
"Dean?" Sheamus blinked back, "He's one of you guys? That crafty little fucker – ,"
Roman raised his gun.
Within a second it had moved from the chest area to the forehead and with visions of an execution-style death going down, Sheamus swallowed visibly and held up his hands,
"Alright, alright – no more name calling. I can tell you're kind of touchy about him, huh?"
"Where," Roman bellowed and the shout was so primeval that Seth even flinched a little where he stood. Sometimes it was a great thing having a Samoan powerhouse with lungs the size of football field to provide their team's force.
"Come on man, don't leave him hanging. You won't like him when he's angry and he's about to fucking blow."
Momentarily, Sheamus debated his options and it was satisfying to see the Irishman look so lost. Clearly he didn't want to admit his involvement but nor did he want his fate to get worse. His tongue flickered out serpent-like and skidded across his lip line and Roman growled and stepped in ever more close.
"Okay, okay, just call him off will 'ya? They're downstairs?"
"Downstairs?"
"In the basement, yeah."
The basement.
The answer hit Seth like an avalanche and he spun towards Roman and almost slapped his own head.
"Dean said they took him downstairs, remember? He said they went down some steps and then the doctor came in. Fuck. He is here. I fucking knew he was."
"Might want to hurry it up a little though," Sheamus interjected and they both turned back towards him, frowning in alarm at his severe sounding tones, "They were just about to get started when I left them and that's not even the worst of the thing – ,"
Roman stomped in close, backing Sheamus up against the lip of the desk edge and angling the revolver beneath the beard braids.
"What else?"
Sheamus licked his lips again and Seth swept in behind him and quickly patted him down. There was a knife in the Irishman's designer-brand back pocket and Seth removed it with a snort.
Clearly trafficking paid well.
"Your boy woke up as we were dragging him down there – ,"
Sheamus seemed hesitant.
That wasn't a good sign.
Roman grabbed him by the shirt and shook him fiercely, hammering his spine against the hard edge of the desk. When he spoke, each word was punctuated clearly and as shot through with anger as Seth had ever heard. Even when it had come out that he had betrayed them, Roman had never been as furious as he was now.
"What else?"
"Alright. Look, the doctor wouldn't use any more drugs on him, said they'd used enough – ,"
Seth's stomach flipped on him,
"Holy fuck."
Sheamus nodded and for the first time since they'd seen him, all those days ago bending Dean's ear back at the bar, he actually looked genuinely, nauseatingly uneasy and not just because he was caught in Roman's grip.
"They were going to do it while he was awake man. I got the hell out of there. I couldn't see that."
As the truth exploded along Roman's brainstem the big man could do nothing but gaze back in alarm. The whole thing was simply too monstrous to even think about. They were going to cut Dean open? While he was awake?
Desperation lanced through his system and he shook their captive roughly, until the Celt's whole body shook,
"Where? We need to know exactly."
"Down the stairs, turn right, along the corridor – it's at the end."
Behind them Seth was already moving, pulling out and manipulating a pair of plastic cuffs. He bent them round and then dragged Sheamus towards the windows, thrusting his hands into the bindings and pulling hard. Fortunately Del Rio's office had fancy casements and the loop of the handle made an excellent tie. He tested the give once and then stepped back away from them, pulling loose his cell phone and then punching a number in.
Roman was already several long strides ahead of him, practically out of the swanky office doors.
"Rollins – ,"
"No time to talk Steph, you need to send patrol cars. Del Rio's offices. Upper West Side. We've got Sheamus cuffed on the first floor in the main office and we're going down into the basement to get Dean."
"He's alive?"
Seth paused, not wanting to give her an answer. How the fuck could he when he didn't even know? Instead he grit his teeth and growled out through them,
"Just send people Steph."
He promptly hung up on her. Three for three. What a record that was.
He was almost at the door when he heard Sheamus call out to him and he paused, wasting valuable time they didn't have.
"Hey, if he's okay, I get consideration, right? Helping you find him? My sentence will be short?"
Seth snarled back at him, his fingers round the handle and his tone as dark as it was possible to go.
"That depends if we get there before they kill him. You'd just better hope for your sake we do."
Then he followed Roman in a gallop towards the basement, praying with every step.
Hold on Dean, hold on.
Batman and Robin are off to the rescue. But are they going to get there in time? *Cue dramatic music and scene change*