Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: Sequel to 'Vulture Club.'

AS THE VULTURES FLY

Kane was confident that he'd done the right thing. Seth had been transparent in his desire for his former friends, transparent to Kane anyway who had worn that look himself a number of times before, transparent to Kane because he could smell the embers burning within Seth, a very familiar rawness. Kane had only really noticed it once Seth had joined the Authority, once the rest of the Shield were no longer by his side. That was when Seth's air of power had begun to fluctuate.

Kane knew that his brother was the right person to enlighten Seth.

Seth had agreed after Kane had spoken to him privately. Seth had clenched his teeth and had looked tired and grateful. That unrequited burden was a heavy one, Kane knew that feeling well.

Now Seth was residing with the Undertaker, surrounded by ash, graveyard dirt and coal-black feathers. Seth would be able to finally close the circle that he'd started with Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns, and then they'd all be able to start again. They'd be stronger for it. Kane and the Undertaker had hated and destroyed each other so many times. But they always returned, always strong, always interlinked. They'd made peace with that, it was part of what held them together while so many others around them fell apart.

Seth would learn that. His power, along with Dean and Roman's, was going to be spectacular.

"It's time."

Seth knew that. He could feel the world turning around him; he could feel how much Dean and Roman needed him. He felt run through with it. He breathed out.

The Undertaker was forging something, bending metal with strong callused hands. How could the dead have calluses? How could they have tattoos? But there the Undertaker stood, dropping something into a bucket of water, steam billowing out, surrounding him. How appropriate.

The Undertaker looked at Seth and then down at the bucket, scooping his creation out for Seth to hold. It was a metal pattern made up of curls and straight lines, all in dark silver. It was warm to the touch and was that humming? Once Seth would have thrown it as far away as possible, now he tightly held onto it. The Undertaker watched him.

He wore things like this sometimes, on chains and leather around his neck. The metal trinkets always clinked together and the Undertaker would brush his fingers through them like a prayer. They meant something. Seth could feel that and he wasn't afraid either.

In fact he was seized by the urge to press the pattern to his lips but he resisted.

The Undertaker sent word – the lights in Kane's room flickered familiarly. Kane was ready, he had his mask secured in his briefcase; Stephanie McMahon now possessed only a very convincing copy. Kane had recently realized just how much he needed his mask close by, he needed to spend more time in his true form. It would soon be time for him to create a new mortal body anyway, for when he wasn't wearing his mask.

That night, he slipped the mask on and felt his true form return to him – flesh on bone, fire and so much reforged pain. He sighed and stones and mortar trembled. He flexed the hand that was now encased in leather and stared around at what he had long been blind to. One of his eyes was now milky with a pinpoint pupil, it saw what his mortal body could never comprehend. He had missed that view.

I will return, brother.

Whatever surveillance the Authority had fixed on him was now blind. Orton would be out staking his claims elsewhere and the McMahon-Helmsleys would be concerned only with their family. Kane slipped out into the hotel hallway, a mere shadow to anyone watching, and arrived at the room that Dean and Roman were sharing for the night. He knocked soundly and when Reigns answered, Kane wrapped a hand around his throat, pushing his way in.

They tried to stop him, but he easily persuaded them not to. He could sense the emptiness and longing inside both Dean and Roman, the same feelings that rotted away inside of Seth. They knew something was missing. Renewal and fresh blood were needed; the Shield could provide that in spades. All cycles had to roll onward.

Kane would tell them about oxygen and fuel and about Seth. He could burn down this entire hotel, this entire street. But he had work to do. He simmered dangerously and felt Dean and Roman's pain. He made sure that they remained unmarked though.

"The cycle continues."

Seth had built a lot of coffins recently. He'd watched the Undertaker work, how sure his hands were, how he knew what was needed and forced Seth to pursue it too. It had hurt but Seth could feel something different now too, he could see something out of the corner of his eye sometimes, a glimmer, like a flame. Something important, he knew that much. A gift? The Undertaker disagreed. For him it was essential, like breathing was to everyone else. The Undertaker saw what only a deadman or a demon could spy.

"You were alive once though, right? I mean, I've heard the story..."

"There was a family and a home. Then there was a fire and I was reborn."

A fire he had set, Seth remembered that detail. His expression probably telegraphed his thoughts because Undertaker held his gaze but didn't disagree.

"Because Bearer told you to."

"He showed me my path."

Seth had once tried touching the mysterious glimmer that he kept seeing, he'd blacked out for several hours afterward.

Why was he making coffins? Working with fire and melting metal? The Undertaker was monosyllabic and when he did speak it was fucking cryptic BS. He talked about the Shield, about ending and restarting a cycle, about the need for hounds. And yeah, that made something thrum right through Seth, even if he didn't know why. Maybe that was the point. He loved the perks and the privileges that came with being part of the Authority, he loved the power. But it still frustratingly didn't feel like enough, something just never felt right there. He still missed Dean and Roman.

Kane got to be part of the Authority with all the expected perks and he also got this. He got the desert and his brother. It all depended on what mask he was wearing. Was that their message? That Seth could have everything he needed, everything he wanted, if he just knew what mask to wear? If he knew who to be at different times, different moments? Kane and the Undertaker were always circling each other somehow, so was it to do with who Seth was with as well?

The glimmer got stronger.

The car journey was surprisingly quiet. Dean and Roman sat behind Kane, talking quietly, their hands frequently touching. Dean looked at Kane challengingly, Kane was surprised that Dean thought him so narrow-minded. He had assumed that his feelings for Daniel had always been obvious.

Kane could feel his brother much more clearly out here in the desert. The weather agreed with him, the hot sun welcoming him with every touch. Dean had been struck silent, maybe he could feel what they were approaching. Kane could definitely feel whatever embers still burned in Dean and Roman responding to Seth's closeness. He could see vultures flying up ahead. He laughed.

Seth was feeding the birds when he heard a car approaching. Thanks to his time spent around the Undertaker, his hearing had sharpened, as had his thinking. Was this how Kane felt when he wore the mask? How Undertaker felt every time he emerged from the dirt? Fucking amazing. Seth could feel the thrumming growing within him as the vehicle got closer. Dean and Roman, they were getting closer too.

The trinket, the charm, that Undertaker had given him was strung around his neck now and burned against his chest. Deep within Seth, a howl was growing.

Nobody came out to greet them. Kane emerged from the car and toed a line through the dirt experimentally - Dean and Roman would be allowed in, to some of the buildings at least. Kane could hear sparks hissing in water, he could smell steam rising – his brother was locked deep in work. The vultures were happy; someone had fed them.

Dean slouched out of the car and against the door. His whole being bristled, his eyes darting across the landscape, searching for clues. Roman was quieter but just as curious and discomforted, he just hid it better.

"I could buy property here," mused Dean, scratching fingers through his uneven stubble. "Right? I mean, the price has got to be dirt-cheap right now. I like the whole...nothingness of it."

Roman stayed silent but also stayed close to Dean, their sides touching. Kane could feel things stirring because Dean, Roman and Seth were close to each other again but not only that, they were open to one another, for the first time in too long. Dean and Roman clearly felt it too, especially when Seth suddenly emerged from a nearby building, in worn leather pants and gloves, a recently-forged charm hanging from a chain around his neck. Seth had only been granted one it seemed but it granted him access to so much. His eyes were bright and he nodded at Kane in a way that spoke volumes.

Kane left them to it. His body was crying out for the desert and for what he could see again at last. It would be too long before he'd be granted this kind of replenishment again. And his brother was waiting.

Dean and Roman's gazes were greedy on him. And fuck, no wonder he'd missed them so much, no wonder. Something was crackling beneath his skin. The Undertaker had pushed him towards, pulling the scales from his eyes, and Seth could comprehend what had only flickered at him before – a feeling as though something was right or sometimes wrong. Now he understood more.

His blood pounded loudly, his eyes were greedy on Dean and Roman too. The three of them stared, drawn together, not saying anything yet. Dean and Roman were here. Fuck. They didn't understand yet but they were here. Seth wrapped fingers around the charm that sat close to his skin, the humming increased. Dean's eyes were wild, everything about him on edge and distrustful.

"What the fuck is that?"

Because he could feel the humming too. As could Roman, Seth could still read him as well. The vultures were wheeling above them now. Seth could still only see a glimmer but he felt heady, like he could consume worlds. He touched Roman's shoulder with a gloved hand because he knew that Dean wouldn't accept contact yet, but Roman was touching Dean and they both froze, sensing what he did – the humming had become a song.

A hammer fell rhythmically. Charms tinkled softly, menacingly. Sparks flew and embers burned. Things were no longer just stirring, now they were moving.

The two brothers didn't say a word to one another. Because the air was rippling and because somewhere a bell tolled.

-the end