Author's Note: As with all my multi-chapter fics this probably won't be updated as quickly as Narratives is. A lot more effort and editing goes into multi-chapter stories so the story being told is the one you want to tell. This was inspired by a conversation with the amazing Wencho 17. If you're a Shield fan and haven't already, you should really check out her stories.

Summary: Post RAW August 18, 2014. Seizing an unexpected opportunity could either fix everything or shatter it beyond all repair. No Slash.

Disclaimer: I could only wish to own them but alas, I don't. The characters belong to Vince McMahon and the WWE. No infringement is intended and no profit is being made from this.

The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life-Richard Bach

August 19, 2014

Las Vegas Nevada, 6:30pm

Roman was exhausted yet he refused to sleep or even close his eyes to rest them for a few minutes. He'd been sitting in that seat since his arrival at twelve thirty in the morning, a long eighteen hours ago, leaving it only to use the rest room. Not that he even wanted to leave it then. He was afraid that if he left, something would happen. That was the thought that kept his burning eyes alert and his numb body poised.

The room was silent except for the constant beeps and whir of the machines. Sounds that were supposed to reassure him but did little to accomplish that. No, it was like every noise they made was mocking him. Tormenting him. Because they shouldn't be happening, not now and not ever.

It wasn't right.

This should have never happened to his brother friend, his brother by choice.

As soon as his eyes landed on the prone, unresponsive body on the hospital bed the only thing he felt was guilt stabbing through his body. Because he hadn't been there when he was needed most. No, he had been sent home by the authority a little while after RAW had started. At the time, it seemed odd. He was in a high profile feud with one of their main players, Randy Orton.

He hadn't questioned it though, which was his stupidity and left, figuring a night to rest wouldn't be the worst thing for him. Turned out he had been very wrong because in hindsight, it all made sense now. The plan to take Dean out had already been in place. They wanted to make sure that he didn't stop them from accomplishing their goal. No better way to ensure that than dismissing him from the show.

Roman had played right into their hands by not putting up a fight about it. By not insisting that he'd stick around. Or ignoring their order and hanging out with his cousins in the locker room. Having a cheesecake feast in catering. Anything so he would have been there to stop what happened.

His eyes drifted back to the unusually still figure on the bed. It was disturbing to see the dirty blonde like that, he was always perpetual motion even during those rare occasions that he slept. The only thing that told him that there was still life inside his friend was the slight rise and fall of the man's chest and the machines monitoring every heartbeat, brain wave and breath. On the plus side, they were all holding steady. Hadn't changed since he arrived at the hospital a little over an hour after Dean had been brought in.

The only reason he hadn't been there sooner was because he had left his phone in his room when he went to the gym. Hadn't checked it when he got back and went straight into the shower. Was surprised when he did check it to find a long list of missed calls, voicemails and text messages waiting for him. He'd only made it halfway through the first voicemail when he grabbed his stuff and left, breaking every traffic law known to man in order to make it to his brother as soon as possible. It was a miracle that he hadn't been pulled over or crashed.

On the frantic drive there, Roman prepared himself to hear the worst. To his immense surprise and relief, when he arrived they told him that his brother was alive. There was no broken neck or cracked skull. The bones in his face had somehow managed to stay intact too. No swelling on the brain and the preliminary tests they had run all came back good.

All of the rest of the tests would have to wait until Dean was awake because they were response based. The only problem was, he hadn't woken up yet which, even the doctor's conceded, he should have. There was no fathomable reason why he hadn't. He hadn't been given any medication to keep him unconscious. The CT scan, EEG and EMG hadn't picked up any medical reason for it so the doctors were hoping it was a case of the body needing rest due to the trauma it sustained.

They weren't calling it a coma yet.

However if Dean didn't wake up by the morning, it would be classified as one. Once it entered that realm, things became very muddled. Coma's couldn't be predicted and had no real course of treatment when they weren't medically induced. The vast range of possible side effects that couldn't be pin pointed. There was a good possibility that Dean wouldn't come out of it the same as he'd been when he went into it.

Roman really needed him to wake up soon to be honest. Not only so he could stop driving himself insane but because the authority hadn't agreed to give him the rest of the week off. They'd only granted him the Smackdown tapings. While Wednesday and Thursday were normally their days off, he had press commitments that he didn't want to go to but Stephanie told him that if he skipped them then they would have no choice but to fire him for breach of contract. If he didn't have a daughter to support he'd tell them to shove it up their ass and quit. The evil bitch had also refused to pull him from the upcoming house shows.

To make his eleven o'clock flight to New York, he'd have to leave in about an hour.

His phone rang and he grabbed it quickly, seeing that it was Dolph calling. The showoff had his ear to the ground and had promised to keep him apprised of any fallout from the curb stomp heard around the world. "Hey man, what's going on?

"Just wanted to let you know that my sources have told me that Kane and Rollins were suspended for thirty days. The information will become public tomorrow." He sounded disgusted that it was all they got for what they did. "Triple H and Stephanie had been pushing a week only for Seth but Vince, who realized exactly how much money this could cost him if Dean decides to bring a lawsuit against the company, overruled them."

"Thanks for keeping me updated." He sighed, eyes once again drifting to the still figure on the bed. "At least they got something for that bullshit even if it's just a slap on the wrist. Didn't think the golden boy and their favorite stooge would get anything honestly."

There was a hum of agreement, "How's he doing?"

Roman hedged, not sure if he should go into too much detail but damn it, he really needed to be able to have someone to talk about this with. "Good news is, the neck isn't broken, no sign of brain damage and his skull isn't fractured. So far the tests have all come back the way they should,"

"But?"

"He hasn't woken up."

A heavy silence took over for a few moments before the blonde found his voice. "He's in a coma?"

"They're not calling it that yet but if he doesn't wake up by the morning then it does cross the line into that category."

"Keep me posted on how he's doing."

The Samoan swallowed thickly, "I will and if anything else happens…"

"You'll be the first to hear about it."

Roman hung up and turned his attention to the man on the bed and shook his head. "I really need you to wake up Dean. I need to know that you're really alright before I leave here tonight."

Not so much as a twitch in response.

He raked hands that hadn't stopped shaking in hours through his hair. This whole situation wasn't sitting right with him. There was no mistaking the facts of the attack that had taken place. But the motives were what baffled him. Never would he understand the reasoning behind the attack.

Why the hell had Seth agreed to do something that could have killed Dean? How could he calmly stare down at Dean, a man who had been a friend and brother to him, then drive his head through cinderblocks? What had gone through the two toned man's mind after it happened? Did he feel any remorse for it or fear that he just might have crippled Dean?

Anger boiled in his blood as he realized that he already knew the answers to those questions. No, Seth didn't care and wouldn't feel a shred of remorse. He was all about getting to the top and trampling anything that he perceived as an obstacle in his path. Dean had been a thorn in his side since the sellout betrayed the Shield, had stopped him from cashing in his ill-gotten briefcase numerous times. It probably hadn't taken more than a diabolical Kane mentioning a way to get rid of his problematic rival for good for him to agree without hesitation.

It was a miracle that they failed to get the job done.

But just because there'd been no major injuries, that didn't mean that once the dirty blonde woke up that he'd automatically be fine. There could still be a litany of injuries that wouldn't show up on the test they've already run. Like concussions or nerve damage. A loss of equilibrium. Problems could arise with his vision, his speech could be slurred or debilitating headaches could linger long after this.

Even if Dean didn't show signs of any of those maladies, the doctor's had already informed Roman that he would not be medically cleared to return to wrestling for at least thirty days as a precaution. Head injuries were an unpredictable thing and sometimes problems took a while to present. So no matter what the reaction tests said or what word's of assurance came out of Dean's mouth, they would not take a chance with his health. While they'd dismiss him from the hospital in a few days after he regained consciousness, there'd be follow up protocol that he'd have to meet in order to get cleared. He'd have to see a neurologist within two weeks and take an impact test then do it all two weeks later to confirm or disprove the results.

That brought a little grin to his face. Dean was going to hate it and be a miserable bastard to anyone who even looked at him. The man lived and breathed wrestling. Devoted his life to being in the ring and on the road, hanging with the boys and charming women with his dimples. If he had his choice, he'd wrestle every day of the week. Because he was finally at peace when he was wrestling, his past wasn't on his mind and all those doubts he harbored were pushed to the furthest reaches of his mind.

Having to give that up for any amount of time would be torture to him.

Seth knew that. Had for years, probably longer than Roman. He'd helped the eccentric member of the Shield avoid being looked at by medics when he was injured. Wrapped that faulty shoulder, aching ribs, swollen knee every night once they were back at the hotel room for the dirty blonde. Talked him down when Dean was having a bad day. They used to joke that Seth should just get a nurses and save them the effort of dodging the medical staff.

So how could he be alright with taking the only thing he had in his life away from Dean?

He really wished that he could get his hands on the younger man. Now, he wasn't normally a violent man but the next time he saw Seth, he'd have no issue choking the little brat or smashing his face in with his fist. It was one thing to stab them in the back professionally. They were grown men who'd get their revenge in the ring. But this, this couldn't be considered anything but a personal betrayal.

Roman wouldn't get the chance to take action right now because of the so called architect's suspension but he would as soon as he was back. Until then, he'd have to be content with unleashing his anger and pain on the members of the authority that were still there. Like Triple H. There was no way in hell that the king of kings didn't know about and approve this. Something this malicious and destructive would have been run by him before it took place.

In the hour before he had to leave to get on his flight, he just sat there watching Dean's still body. Hoping against hope that the man would wake up. That he'd get to see that infamous smirk and hear the curse-laden threats directed at their former little brother spill from that gravelly voice. Wishing that he could turn back time and prevent this from happening. Wondering how the hell things could have broken down so badly that it had come to this.

But Dean didn't awaken before he had to go and Roman hated the fact that when he finally did come back to them that no one would be there for him.

Phoenix Arizona 7:30pm

Seth dejectedly slumped on the sofa in his plush hotel room, his half eaten plate of dinner on the coffee table, in disbelief. He'd been suspended. In all the years that he'd been wrestling he had never been suspended from a company before. There were a couple of times in FCW where his attitude had almost gotten him sent home but that was it. Of course he'd never done something so vile, vicious and potentially life threatening before.

So the punishment fit the crime. Actually, no it didn't. Even he had to admit that he got off easy. After all, it paled in comparison to possibly having your career or life ripped away from you like what Dean was facing. And really, what was thirty days compared to being fired or arrested for assault and attempted murder?

Jesus, he never thought that he'd ever do anything like that. But he'd never been in a situation like this before. Dean was driving him insane with his refusal to back off. He had Triple H and Stephanie breathing down his neck, telling him he needed to finish this feud so he could make good on their plans for him. And then there was Kane, informing him that he had an idea that would get Dean off his back once and for all.

It just felt like he was going to explode if something didn't give.

He agreed with the bigger man. Without a second thought to the fact that the man saying this was known as a monster, as someone who enjoyed destroying people, took pleasure in making them suffer. It never even entered his mind until Kane showed him the set-up that the once and for all part could result in paralyzing or killing Dean. He felt his heart plummet the longer he stared at those blocks, wondering why he'd been so stupid to blindly agree to one of director of operation's plots. But he couldn't back out, he'd lose Hunter and Stephanie's trust if he did and he needed their backing if he was going to make it to the top.

So he stayed the course even though everything in him was screaming not to do it.

In that moment, before he jumped down from the announce table onto the prone dirty blonde, a million different memories of laughter, jokes and brotherly bonding flooded his mind. He really didn't know if he could go through with it. Then different memories shoved them aside, refusing to be ignored. Being repeatedly attacked unexpectedly, looking over his shoulder everywhere he went because he kept expecting Dean to strike and having every chance at cashing in ripped away from him. When they stopped playing through his head, he had curb stomped Dean's head through the cinderblocks.

He got back up onto the table, felt his body posing without his consent but his eyes never left the chalk dusted mess of dirty blonde curls below. His mind was reeling. Body shook. Vaguely, he could hear Charles Robinson and the announcers screaming for the crew in the back to send out help. The referee telling him that he'd gone too far, looking at him in complete disgust.

Seth couldn't argue with that. There was nothing he could say to try to defend himself or his actions. No matter what, no one deserved to suffer what he had just done to Dean. So he kept his mouth shut and his gaze on the fallen man, mentally begging him to stay still until the medics arrived. He was probably seriously injured and if he moved, it could make matters worse.

He didn't remember getting down from the table. Didn't hear the massive negative response directed at him. Couldn't recall walking away from ringside and going backstage. Leaving the arena was a blank spot too. It was as if his body functioned on autopilot through it all because his mind had gone into shock.

His phone rang and he frowned at the display. Hunter was calling him. He didn't want to answer it, was in no mood to listen to the older man gloat but he had to. Taking a deep breath, he accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"Hey kid, how you holding up?"

"I'm fine." It was a lie but a convincing one. He'd gotten really good at that over the last couple of months. Had to if he wanted to prove that he belonged in the authority. "A little peeved that I drove all the way to Phoenix just to get suspended."

"Well, calm down and listen because I have news." The note of triumph in the game's voice made his skin crawl. "I had Joey swing by the hospital, check up on the wounded lunatic before he left Vegas."

His eyes widened because that couldn't be a good sign. "Oh?"

"Ambrose apparently escaped serious injury, damn cockroach that he is, but he hasn't regained consciousness and the doctor's have no clue if he ever will." There was fucking pride in the king of kings tone that made his stomach heave. "Looks like his days of being a problem are over. Reigns however will probably look to pick up where Ambrose left off. But there's no need to worry about it."

Wrong, because he was worried.

But not about any possible retaliation. Anything Roman did to him was well deserved and welcomed. Hell, it was a more fitting punishment than the thirty days suspension was. It would hurt a hell of a lot more. He already knew that the next superman punches he was on the receiving end of would probably break his face and those spears would be delivered with the intent of shattering his ribs.

No, he was worried about Dean.

How could he not be after hearing that?

"You still there kid?" The deep voice on the other end of the phone brought him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, just kind of in disbelief…"

"Well, shake it off and go celebrate your victory." He could hear the sleazy smile through the phone and wondered again if the older man missed having a soul. "Then take this time off to rest up, relax and think about what you're going to accomplish when you get back."

Seth gritted his teeth, a flare of hatred shooting through him. He was making this sound like it was a damn vacation and not a punishment for a heinous action. In that moment, he really wanted to tell Triple H off but he refrained. "Will do."

"See you in a month." With that, Hunter hung up.

As soon as his phone was in his pocket, he got to his feet and grabbed his suitcase. He scanned the room, making sure he wasn't leaving anything important behind. Satisfied that he wasn't, he headed toward the door.

There was someplace he really needed to be.