Pre-Battleground chapter. Dean, Roman, and Seth.
"Where the hell is Ambrose?"
"You really expect me to know?" countered Randy.
"I looked into every damn corner of this arena. He's nowhere to be found," outraged Seth continued to complain.
Randy carefully looked at Seth. From head to feet. Then he smirked and joked, "I bet he's where your Money in the Bank briefcase is."
"Ha-ha, funny," Seth faked a laugh. He wasn't in mood for joking, though.
"Maybe he's with Renee," suddenly suggested Tom Phillips, who was until now pretending not to be listening to them. He said it just as a by-the-way and then, before getting a response, he was asked to go with somebody to solve "a problem" or something.
But Randy as well agreed that Dean could be with Renee. It wouldn't the first time, after all.
"You think I haven't thought of that?" Seth finally replied.
"So should we officially label him 'lost' then?" Randy thought he was helping but one look at Seth's angry face proved him wrong.
"I need to find him. ASAP!"
"And have you asked Renee if she had any idea where he could be?"
"Oh, no, that never came to my mind," Seth said.
"Cut that sarcasm, Rollins," Randy warned him before he'd get angry.
Seth sighed; he had to have gotten infected by spending so much time around Dean. But Seth didn't mean to do anything about his mood. Instead he left. Randy Orton was of no help to him anyway.
He had to keep looking. He had to find him and talk to him before their match tonight.
"Seth," Triple H called at him from across the hall. Seth stopped walking and waited for him to come to him. "How you feel tonight? Ready for the match?"
"I'm always ready, boss."
"There's no need for being official right now," Triple H smiled. "Oh, and by the way," he switched the topic to the reason he came to him in first place, "Could you send Dean Ambrose to my office? I need to give some last directions regarding the match."
"Sure, I'll let him know you want to see him." Seth decided he didn't need to tell him about how impossible it was to locate the lunatic. There was always the option to tell Triple H that he wasn't able to find him.
As Seth continued his so far unsuccessful search, he overheard a conversation from the room to his left. He couldn't recognize any specific words, but he heard two voices, both male and both pretty low in register. They belonged to Dean and Roman, no doubt about that.
Seth opened the door to find out he was right. The guys were there alone. Dean was lying on the couch and Roman sitting on the floor right next to it. Roman's back was touching the side of the couch. When Seth saw them, and they saw him, they stopped talking and they looked as if they had been interrupted in planning a master revenge on him. Of course it was not what they were doing prior to Seth's entering the room. But they had to have been discussing something secret.
But this was one of the rooms Seth had checked and it was empty. Unless Dean and Roman were hiding it the closet, they weren't there before. But that didn't matter now; important was that Seth finally found Dean.
"I've got bad news for you," Seth told him.
"Have they changed the ending of our match?" asked Dean.
Seth walked toward the guys. "No," he replied. "And could you move?" Dean didn't seem willing to make a room for another person on the couch. "Fucking sit up, Dean!"
"Leave him, Seth," Roman joined the conversation. "Come sit here," he showed him a spot on the floor beside him. Seth had no other choice.
"So I found the T-shirt I lent you last week in the trash this afternoon. Are you fucking kidding me, Dean? It's not for you to spill red wine on it and then throw it away. And without telling me?"
"You really did that?" laughed Roman.
"It was ruined," Dean explained, "all stretched-out and dirty. I had no use for it anymore."
"It was mine! My T-shirt and now it's under a banana peel. You have absolutely no respect for anything," Seth yelled at him. "Next time you want to borrow something from me, you can forget about it."
"If I recall correctly, you said the same thing last time too, Seth," Roman reminded him.
"Well, this time I mean it!"
"It was an old shirt, Seth," argued Dean. "If anything, I did you a favor when I got rid of it for you."
"I liked that shirt."
"You have full closet of shirts. What's the use of it? I mean look at me; one pair of jeans, one shirt, one jacket, and girls go crazy."
"Whatever," Seth replied. He let Dean have that one. "What are you two doing here anyway? I spent at least twenty minutes looking for you, Dean."
"If you asked me, I'd tell you he was with me," Roman teased him.
"Well, I asked his girlfriend."
"Renee?" Dean asked. "And?"
"She replied, and I cite, 'Seth, if you think I know what Dean's doing and where he is at all times, you have wrong impression of our relationship."
Roman had to laugh. "At least she's honest to herself."
Seth didn't find it very funny. "Haven't you pledged to be honest?" he asked Dean.
"Haven't you pledged to stop caring?" Dean countered, but he didn't mean to take this into an argument. Now it was time to concentrate. Battleground was about to start and it required him to get into his character. He needed to wake the beast and start seeing target in Seth Rollins, the rascal who broke the famous trio.
His mind was working on the hate but his body was unwilling to move. The legs felt more comfortable in horizontal position and eyes preferred to be shut. Now all I need is some nice music, Dean thought to himself.
"Oh, before I forget, Dean, Triple H wanted to see you," Seth, getting himself comfortable on the floor, announced.
"Thanks for mentioning it," Dean replied, but hadn't moved at all.
"Come on, Dean, get off your lazy ass and move! If you don't show up in his office, he'll put the blame on me."
"Fiiine," Dean stretched out the word as he put his legs down on the floor. The next step was a deep, resigning sigh. When he was sitting, like a decent human being, he looked at Roman. Roman returned the look. There was something those two would like to say to each other but probably couldn't because of Seth.
Roman started to speak in spite of Seth's presence. "Are you going to . . ."
"Yeah," Dean replied. "I should . . . right?"
Roman didn't answer immediately. He was thinking, and while doing so he was playing with his mouth, moving it from side to side. Then he licked his upper lip and bit his lower lip, and then he said, "If you want to go with that, tell her." Fortunately Roman didn't sound hesitant so Dean could really take it as advice.
"Who?" Seth asked. He didn't have a slightest idea of what those two were talking about but he was curious and wanted to know, even though he wouldn't understand.
Surprisingly, Dean answered, and didn't even make a big deal out of it. He said, "Renee." And he added, "I'm gonna talk to her after the show."
"Will you have enough energy left for that talk?" Roman asked doubtfully.
Dean smirked. "0 to 60 acceleration of Dean Ambrose is one energy drink. Give me one Red Bull and I'll be capable of much more than talking."
"Too much information," Roman laughed.
"What are you going to talk about with Renee?" Seth tried his luck and asked.
"I'm really sorry, Seth, but I have to go now. You know, talk to your daddy," Dean joked. "I don't want to get you in any problem so I'd better get going."
Why so suddenly, Seth wondered sarcastically. But although it was an excuse, Seth was glad that Dean wouldn't keep Triple H waiting for too long.
Dean finally stood up and headed toward the door. "See you in hell, I mean in the ring," Dean not-at-all-awkwardly corrected himself and giggled. He was getting fired up for that match against him tonight. "Dickhead," Dean mumbled before leaving the room for good.
Now Seth had the chance to get the information out of Roman. "What was all this about? Him lying down as if he was totally broken and in pain. You on the floor, looking serious as shit."
"We had a little therapy session," Roman said.
"Hmm, I thought that the psychiatrist is the one looking down at the patient. Not the other way around. Anyhow, what's his problem now? Has he finally lost the control over himself?"
"Come one, grow up, Seth. It's been hard on him."
"Wrong," Seth refused that statement. "It's been hard on people around him. It's been hard on his girlfriend who gets to deal with his shit every day."
"You have no idea what he's going through."
"Me. Tonight."
"That's not what I mean," Roman said. His voice high because of making a sarcastic remark.
"It's a fact, though. We're having a match tonight, and I want him to be fully focused. No women, no problems. Just Dean and his lunatic mind. That's all I'm asking for. That's all that the WWE Universe wants tonight."
"Some people just want peace of mind." After a pause, Roman continued, "Seth, you're not helping him. Dean's doing what he can."
"What is he doing exactly? What is his objective?"
"Be the good guy for once."
Seth raised his eyebrow. "Really? So what, he wants everyone to be happy? Is that what he wants?"
"Yes. But why are you so skeptic? Don't you believe in him?"
"I do. But I don't believe in miracles. There cannot be a happy ending for everybody."