Dave strolled around backstage, desperate to find something to do. He was all jacked up on adrenaline after what they'd done, and he needed some form of release. Beating the crap out of the Shield was far too much fun, and honestly it kinda turned him on a bit. He felt so strong, so empowered. He hadn't felt this way in a long time and truth be told he missed it.

"Yo, Orton, you busy?"

The sound of his partners all too familiar voice caught him of guard and he jumped slightly, no expecting to see him anytime soon. Usually he disappeared for a while, doing god only knows what, after they'd been out there. But from the looks of things he was just as restless as Randy was.

"You know, I can't stop thinking about what we just did, and it got me thinking a little something else. That Reigns boy, he sure looked pretty good on his knees, and I wouldn't mind giving that hair another tug or two. I can't believe we've been doing this thing with the Shield for weeks and we still haven't made a real example out of any of them."

It didn't take long for Randy to catch on to what Batista was saying, and he had to admit the other man had a point. When they started NXT and these guys appeared Randy hadn't paid much attention, until they made it to the main roster and started this whole 'Shield' thing, that's when he really started looking, and honestly Randy thought the two toned one looked like he'd be a good fuck. But they'd soon realised he was off limits. He was a one man guy apparently and anyone that tried it on with him soon regretted it when Reigns got hold of them. Nobody messed with his boy. He knew a superstar or two that had learned that the hard way. Of course, Randy hadn't planned to listen, until he'd met the big guy properly for the first time when they'd met to discuss the Authority storyline.

The young Adonis had come walking up to him, and stopped long enough to wrap a possessive arm around the two toned boys' shoulders, the younger man leaning into him. He looked hard as fuck but kinda pretty too, the kinda guy you'd fuck in an ally way somewhere but leave before he got up long enough to punch you for leaving him a complete mess. But he held himself like a dom would, and the pretty two toned boy seemed to follow him around like a puppy, so it was pretty obvious this guy hadn't ever bottomed, and Randy hadn't yet figured out a way to get the smaller one underneath him. But seeing Roman crawl to the ring in that moment, the boy looked perfect on his knees, and Randy soon figured out that fucking him would be far more satisfying than getting his hands on that two toned slut of a boyfriend. And right now? Well, he'd be a bit too weak to fight both of them off after the beating he'd received at their hands. It was perfect - not only did it give Randy something to sink his teeth into now that Cody had, for unknown reasons, decided he didn't want to help Randy rid him off all this pent up energy anymore after matches (and honestly Randy blamed Codys damn brother for it), but it was the best way to show all the pretty new faces in the back that Evolution were still tops dogs. And the smirk that formed across Randys face was enough to let Dave know he was down with that. And besides, they were HHH's best friends; it wasn't like anything bad would happen to them.

SIERRA HOTEL INDIA ECHO LIMA DELTA SHIELD

Roman trailed backstage, arm wrapped around his bruised ribs. He was in agony after what had happened on Raw, and he barely had enough energy to walk to his locker room without help. He'd ordered Dean to take Seth to the trainers - he knew Dean was slightly less injured than him and he needed desperately for Seth to get checked, so Dean seemed like the best person to take him. He may have been worrying over nothing but he didn't trust anyone else to look after Seth, and after what had happened to them not so long ago, he knew that was a wise decision. He was angry with everyone, including himself. He hated it when Seth got hurt, especially when it was his fault. He should have been able to look after him, protect him, but he'd failed once more and Seth was hurt. Chances are he'd be fine but Roman didn't want to take the risk and had demanded he go to the trainers.

He felt so weak, barely having the energy to stand, especially after he'd landed funny when he'd been thrown through the announce table, having to crawl on his knees like a bitch because he couldn't fight. Despite his current state he made it to the Shield locker room without any incidents, and because Dean and Seth where still with the trainer he was alone. He collapsed on the bench closest to him, not bothering to lock to door, and dropped his head into his hands. He hated feeling like this, so weak and pathetic. He couldn't believe what had happened. Not only had he allowed his best friend and his boyfriend to get the crap beaten out of them, but he'd let himself get pushed around and kicked the shit out of, and he was too weak and powerless to stop it. He'd never felt like that before and it was a feeling he despised. He was trying to focus on his breathing, hoping if he kept it steady enough the aching in his ribs would go away and his head would stop spinning - it already killed from Randy fucking up and he was worried that despite the bruising and the scaring starting to fade, the effects would remain in the form of a concussion if his head got jolted anymore, not that he'd tell Seth that. But damn that sledgehammer hadn't helped.

He was so worried about Seth he hadn't bothered going to get himself checked, focused too much on his younger lover. He was only a year younger than Roman but he didn't seem it, he was so young and innocent at times, it was almost hard to believe there was only a small age gap between them. Despite the pain shooting through his head he couldn't stop the smile that formed on his face as he thought about the other, so energetic and willing to please. Lost in his thoughts he didn't notice the door opening behind him, but he whirled around on the bench as he heard it slam shut, gritting his teeth as the sudden movement jarred his injured ribs.

"What the hell are you two doing in here?" Everyone knew this was the Shields private locker room, and yet these two assholes had the nerve to just walk in despite what had happened not too long ago? If Roman wasn't in so much pain he'd have speared them both by now. Unfortunately his ribs felt like they were on the verge of breaking, neither man having been 'gentle' when they slammed him through the table earlier. Roman stood, slightly unnerved as the two older man started walking forward, smirking but remaining silent. He backed up, matching them step for step until his back hit the wall, and he hissed as his ribs were jarred once more. Under normal circumstances he'd have charged by now, literally thrown them out of his locker room, but right now he couldn't even breathe without being in pain, and the thought that he couldn't defend himself made him more nervous than he'd care to admit. What the hell were they up to? Were they planning on beating him up again now he was alone? Was this a desperate attempt to injure him so he couldn't get revenge at Payback? Honestly Roman didn't have a clue what was going on, but he didn't like his chances.

Before he knew what was happening they were on him, kicking and punching and pushing him to the ground. He tried his damndest to fight back, punching Batista square in the face, but the second he did Orton sent a swift, painful kick to his bruised ribs and he couldn't help the scream that tore out of his throat. Despite his screams he knew nobody would come - people had learnt long ago to stay out of the Shield dressing room regardless of what noise was coming from there - usually that noise was Seth but tonight it was Roman screaming, and not for the same reasons. He felt tears filling his eyes as his ribs were kicked repeatedly, Batista practically stomping on them in anger after Roman had punched him, the red mark prominent on his cheek. He ground his teeth together, refusing to make a sound or let the tears fall, refusing to show any further weakness in front of the two older men. Finally they let up, the kicks stopped connecting, but Romans' hopes of being left alone were soon squashed as Orton grabbed a fist full of hair, pulling Roman to his knees. Batista crouched down so his face was level with Romans', grinning as he ran a finger across his lips, Roman wanting desperately to pull his head away but the grip on his hair was too tight, and he was in too much pain to fight back.

"Now would you look at that Randy, we've gone and got ourselves a pretty boy. You're looking kinda angry there boy, what's wrong? Hmm, I'm thinking you spent so much time fucking that pretty little boyfriend of yours nobody ever taught you how to spread your legs. But don't worry, me and Randy are gonna teach you. And maybe when we're finished with you we can have a little fun with that whore you call a boyfriend."

Roman felt anger flair up at the mention of Seth, but his anger quickly faded to panic as the reality of Batista's threat set in. They couldn't be serious - there was no way they could be serious. Roman had heard stories about shit like this happening back in the day but fuck there was no way this was happening now, not to him. Orton let go of his hair, pushing him forward so his head practically bounced off the concrete below. He felt one of the two straddling his lower back, obvious erection pressing against him and a hand in his hair again, pulling his head back so his back arched slightly. He felt something wet against his neck, grimacing as he realised it was someone's' tongue. He dug his nails into the concrete beneath him, trying desperately to somehow crawl away, groaning in pain as a pair of teeth clamped down on the sensitive skin of his neck. He felt the tears welling in his eyes, stronger this time but he refused to let them fall, refused to let this happen. He prayed for an ounce of strength, a rush of adrenaline, something to help him fight these assholes off. He heard Orton laughing in the background, assuming from that it was Batista straddling him, his erection now grinding against Romans' lower back. But as the door swung open, banging against the wall with force, the hearts of all three men leapt into their throats, the most unlikely companion stepping into the room.

"Randy, Dave. I suggest you get up and walk away now." The cold, emotionless tone of his saviour echoed in the dead silence of the room, and it was enough for the two men to practically take off running, leaving Roman lying on the floor. He curled into a ball when Batista released him, his arms moving to wrap around his aching midsection. He felt like he couldn't breathe. He was in agony, his ribs and head were on fire, and the reality of what had almost happened crashed into him and it was all just too much for him to take. The feeling of a pair of strong arms lifting him was the last sensation he felt before his world went black.