Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.
Rated: M
Warning(s): Slash, Foursome, Daddy!Kink, Dom/sub, Sub!Seth, Sub!Dean, Sub!Roman, Dom!Hunter, Daddy!Hunter, Revenge, Storyline Fanfic, Prelude Fic, Dub-Con Scenarios, Pain Kink, Domestic Abuse, etc.

A/N: You guys... There are no words to describe how long I've waited to be able to share this story with ya'll. It's a little late, I know - it's remarkably difficult to keep up with wrestling when one doesn't have access to a television five days out of the week XD. So, without further delay...

REDESIGN.

REBUILD.

SLAY THE KING.

Three years.

For three years, he'd endured hell on earth, all in the name of devotion to the one man who'd promised him the world. He'd torn down his brethren, laughed in the face of their pain as they lay broken in the middle of the squared circle, a battered steel chair raised triumphantly in the air. He'd spit in their faces, called their relationship little more than a sham... he'd broken their hearts and smiled as he watched the light fade from their eyes. And all for him.

Three years.

For three years, he'd stood at his side, spouting lies to the WWE Universe about how the company would be entering a new era, how the Authority would cut out the virulent disease that had infected the WWE for far too long. He'd relished in the attention that came from being the face of the company, not caring that that position had been bought with the blood of those that he'd once held dear. At the time, it had seemed like such a small price to pay for the glory that rained down upon him...

He didn't know, didn't care, that the WWE Universe saw him as little more than Hunter's pet - a toy kept around for his amusement. It didn't matter, so long as those perfect hazel eyes were focused on him and him alone. He was Hunter's perfect boy, the only one worthy of staying at the King of King's side. His only concern was that he remain worthy, and that meant obeying his Daddy's will. Even if it meant hurting Dean and Roman, he knew that he'd never be alone. Never again.

Three years.

For three years, he'd watched as the Authority slowly cut away at the Roman Empire. First, they stripped him of his title... then his pride... The big man was like a wounded animal, awaiting the final blow that would put him out of his misery. When they could not transform him into the superstar they so desired, the company turned on him. The fans were similarly hostile, finding his character unrelatable and undesireable. And so he'd slowly, but surely, been cast aside.

And the Lunatic Fringe... He'd watched as the former frontman of the Shield was pushed to the very edges of his already fragile sanity, made out to be little more than a hothead who put on a fairly decent show when he finally lost his cool. He, like Roman, had fallen from grace. For three years, he'd convinced himself that he was the glue that had held their little 'family' together. Without him, they were nothing. He was the one who put asses in seats. He was the Architect, the -

It took him three years to see the truth.

He didn't realize how desperately alone he felt until Hunter turned on him, leaving him there, sprawled out in the middle of the squared circle, pain radiating through his core as the COO raised another's hand in victory. As far as Hunter was concerned, Seth was little more than a means to an end. He'd never been special. He'd never been choosen. And he had no problem throwing him to the wolves as soon as he'd outlived his usefulness. Hunter had used him.

Hunter had taken the only good thing in his life and ruined it for his own gain. He'd manipulated the only relationship he'd had that had ever truly mattered, had used him to break down the two men that had once been his world. He had promised Seth everything, and what had he delivered? The world had come crumbling down at Seth's feet, the empire that he'd built as a member of the Authority being engulfed in flames... And as he stood amongst the ruins, he realized something.

There was nothing more satisfying than watching the mighty fall... This time, the Architect would be using his hands to mend, rather than destroy.

Seth pressed his forehead to the cold wooden door, his right hand frozen in mid-air as he seemed to contemplate whether or not he should knock. The man on the other side of the door simultaneously filled his heart with excitement and dread, and at the moment, he was uncertain as to which emotion was stronger. It had been so long since he'd last seen him and hadn't been trying to hurt him... So long since those eyes had last looked on him with love and affection...

He knocked on the door, three times in quick succession. There was some shuffling from within, and Seth drew back just in time for the door to swing open and a rather disheveled looking Dean to stick his head out. "What the fuck do you want?"

"I..." Seth swallowed hard. Now, standing here in front of the older man, being forced to confront exactly what it was that he'd done... the words died in his throat, and he felt a sob rising in his chest. "I came... to talk."

"To talk?" Dean repeated blandly, clearly unimpressed. "You're about three years too late for that, Rollins."

"Look, I know that you have absolutely no reason to hear me out. What I've done to you... to us... it's unforgiveable. I don't expect you to just up and move on because I say a few flowery words and tell you how sorry I am." Seth said softly. "But I... There's something that I have to get off of my chest."

Dean crossed his arms over his bare chest, his murky eyes narrowed. "You betrayed us, Seth. Whether you want to call it selling out, buying in, whatever - You told us that you had our back, and then you stabbed us in it. Roman was coughing up blood for two days after you beat him with that chair. Two. Days -,"

"I know." And he did. He'd stood outside of their locker room, listening to Dean attempt to soothe the big man as more and more blood spilled over his pretty lips...

"No, I don't think that you really do. Even after that, after all of the misery you put him through, he was willing to forgive you. He fucking thought that he deserved it, like it was some sort of cosmic retribution for not being able to protect you from Heyman. And then you -," here, Seth cut him off.

"I fucking know what I did, okay?" He didn't come here to rehash all the times that he'd screwed up in the last three years.

Dean frowned, "You broke him, Seth. You did the one thing that Heyman never could." He reached for the door, "And I'm not about to let you do it again."

He tried to slam the door in Seth's face, and the brunette barely had enough time to stick his boot between the door and the jam before he was once again shut out of their world. Dean glared at him, taking a sick sort of pleasure in the way his face contorted with pain as the door made contact with his foot and twisted it painfully to the side. Dean had a sadistic streak a mile wide - he was hurting, and he wasn't afraid to take that out on Seth.

It was surprisingly easy to overpower the older man and force his way into the locker room. He'd barely set foot inside, however, when Dean slammed the door shut and pushed him back into the wood with enough force to bruise. He used his weight to pin the smaller man in place, unwilling to give him so much as an inch of leeway. Leaning in as close as he dared, he growled lowly in the younger's ear, his breath washing hotly over his sweat-slicked skin.

"You're nothing more than a sell-out, ready to cave for the highest bidder." Dean growled. Seth was ashamed that, despite the virulent words spewing forth from Dean's mouth, the closeness of their bodies was causing heat to pool low in his belly. "Give me one good reason why I should trust a lowlife like you?"

Seth drew in a shaky breath, trying to inch away from the all-encompassing heat radiating off of his body. "I-I can't. Sometimes I can't even trust myself."

Even as he tried to get away, Dean took note of his arousal and smiled darkly, "Mmm... such a slutty boy, Sethie... getting off on being completely at my mercy..."

"N-No, I -," the rest of his sentence was swallowed in a low, shuddering moan as Dean bent down and bit hard on his collarbone, the skin splitting beneath the abuse and a thin trickle of blood traveling down his lightly tanned skin.

"Did your precious Daddy ever find out how much of a pain slut you are, Sethie?" Dean mocked coldly. Seth knew that it was meant as an insult, but somehow, coming from Dean, it seemed almost fond. "I doubt it. As if he'd ever raise a hand to his 'precious little boy'."

"H-He loved all of us e-equally, D-D-Dean!" His leather pants were shoved down roughly, and a calloused hand gripped his length and tugged sharply.

"Bullshit."

That hand jerked him to full hardness with all of the love of an unfeeling machine, the other hand swiftly unbuttoning Dean's jeans and freeing his own leaking length from their cotton prison. Suddenly, Seth is being turned around, and he falls into position automatically. This... This is familiar. Even if it felt as if a small eternity had passed since they'd last been together like this, Seth still has faith that Dean would never truly hurt him. It is one of the few things in this world he can still count on.

"We shouldn't be doing this." Dean mumbled softly, as if realizing for the first time exactly what it was that they were about to do.

"We've done a lot of things that we probably shouldn't have. That's never stopped us before." Seth pointed out, his voice soft.

With one sharp thust, Dean was fully seated inside of his former lover. The lack of prep caused the sudden entrance to burn like hell, and Seth dragged his nails along the wood of the door, feeling small bits splinter off underneath them. "I still hate you." Dean said.

"I know." Seth returned, his face buried behind a curtain of dark brown hair, his voice unreadable. "...I hate myself, too."

This was not the first time that this had happened, and would undoubtedly not be the last. What would begin as a heated exchange of words would often devolve into hateful sex that left both parties feeling lower than ever. It was a painful cycle, but also one that they'd found was near impossible to break. Dean grabbed his hips with almost bruising force, thrusting into the pliant body beneath him with such force that he could feel the door quaking beneath them.

"Fuck..." Dean grabbed him by the nape of his neck, forcing him to bare his neck as a sign of submission. Seth gladly complied.

"D-Dean... oh shit..." Dean bit down on his neck, directly over the mark he'd made previously. A fresh gush of blood washed over his tongue, and his angled his hips to slam directly into the younger man's prostate. "God, yes... yes..." his brown eyes hazed over as the most delicious pain wracked his body.

Dean nipped a trail up to Seth's ear, where he whispered, "How would your beloved Daddy feel, knowing that you were still such a slut for my cock? That you came to me behind his back and practically begged me for it?"

Seth shook his head, wincing at the delightful burning in his neck as the fresh wounds were aggravated. "I don't care. I'm... oh fuck, right there... I'm betraying him."

The wonderful assault on his prostate suddenly halted, and Dean's flagging erection pulled out of his ass with a wet pop. "Come again?"

"Seriously?" That would be just like the bastard, to leave him high and dry like that. He sighed, "Look, Hunter showed his true colors last week when he showed me just how much I mean to the Authority. I'm expendable. Now that a newer, shinier model has come along, he doesn't need me anymore -,"

Dean laughed bitterly, "So you're just gonna sell-out again? Things get a little tough, and you decide to turn tail and run?"

Admittedly, this was not the reaction that he'd been expecting. While he didn't think that Dean would just be willing to bury the past and rally behind his cause, he didn't think that the older man would see this as him selling-out a second time. Seth saw this as his opportunity to finally fix all the pain that he'd caused three years ago, to stake his claim in the business as something more than the Shield's reckoning, something greater.

Dean had already tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up, and was now running a hand through his dirty blond curls. For the first time, Seth realized just how tired the other man looked. If what he'd said about Roman was true... Seth couldn't imagine the toll that this mess had put on their relationship. And he just waltzed right in and expected Dean to drop everything to take care of his needs. In those three awful years, nothing had truly changed. He was still as selfish as ever.

"We can't do this anymore." Dean said suddenly.

"W-What?" Seth, caught off-guard, could only muster this weak rebuttal.

"This... This... Whatever the fuck is going on between us. It has to end. Roman and I... we're still working through the damage you caused when you left us the first time. We won't stand by and be your consolation prize. If you choose to do this, Seth... then you stand alone." Dean finished softly.

Seth stared at his former stablemate with wide eyes. Was this horrible, twisting pain in his lower belly what they'd felt when Seth had stood before them and told them that they were nothing? The void that had opened up within him... he didn't like it at all. "Dean..?"

"I think you should leave." And Seth, too flabbergasted to continue their little back-and-forth, shimmied back into his clothes and left.

"A Shield reunion?" Seth asked, his tone skeptical as he looked over the paperwork that the VP of WWE Creative, Stephanie McMahon, had presented to him.

"The WWE Universe has been waiting for this moment since 2014, Seth. Think about it - you, being the one to reunite one of the greatest stables in WWE history. Our ratings would go through the roof!" The older woman practically radiated excitement, but the feeling was far from mutual.

Seth pushed the contract back to her, unsigned. "I'm not interested."

"Excuse me?" She trilled, channeling Vickie Guerrero.

The brunette offered her a bittersweet smile, "Do you really think that you can sell a reunion to the WWE Universe after the shit that I pulled? This isn't some soap opera where I can go out and deliver a tearful, heartfelt apology and we'll all go running into the sunset and sing kumbaya."

Stephanie actually had the audacity to laugh. "Of course not! It will be a long road to recovery, and there will be some lasting trust issues - but I'm sure that if you three put your big boy pants on, you'll be able to make it work." That was a low blow, and she damn well knew it.

"I don't want fluffy, feel-good storylines that make the whole damn WWE Universe go 'aww'." Seth snapped, his tone bitter. "I want Hunter's head on a silver platter."

This was mostly true. He wasn't interested in a reunion of the Shield, or a run at the tag team titles. It wasn't because he was adverse to the idea of working side by side with Dean and Roman once again; in fact, there were no two people that he trusted more in the world, either in the ring or in his bed. But his little meeting with Dean the other night had forced him to realize something...

Relationships were like a plain sheet of white paper. Over the course of time, that paper might be drawn on, torn, cut into pieces, or even crumpled into a ball. The marks that had been made might be erased, the pieces reassembled, or the paper smoothed... but nothing could make the paper perfect again. Seth had taken the one good thing in his life and crushed it into little tiny pieces. Even if they were reassembled... they'd never be the same.

Ironically, he and the WWE Universe had very similar desires. They wanted to hop into a time machine and return to the year 2014, when everything was still perfect within the Shield. They wanted to bring those men to the present, to have it be like nothing had ever changed between them... like the last three years had never happened. But it was clear to Seth now that such pipe dreams would never come to pass.

"I'm willing to strike a deal with you." Seth frowned - Stephanie's 'deals' never meant anything good. "I'm certain that the WWE Universe would love to see a feud between you and Hunter, so... you have your match. At No Mercy 2017, you can exact your revenge against Hunter."

Seth stared at her for a moment, unimpressed, "What's the catch?"

"Hmm, and here I was expecting you to be a little bit... I don't know, happier. This was what you wanted, wasn't it? A chance to get your hands on the King of Kings, to show him exactly what he passed up when he screwed you over two weeks ago." Stephanie said nonchalantly.

Seth rolled his eyes, "Up until two weeks ago, you were hellbent on making my life into a living nightmare. Now, all of a sudden, Hunter does me in and you're my best friend. It doesn't make any sense." He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "You don't stand to gain anything from this deal."

Stephanie smiled darkly, "Seeing my dear ex-husband knocked down a few pegs is certainly reward enough for me."

"You are a vindictive one, aren't you?"

The elder woman shrugged, "I know how to play with the hand that I've been dealt. You and I... we're rather similar. More so than you might think. Hunter has done us both wrong, you're just in a better position to do something about it."

Now, it was Seth's turn to laugh, "Are you still sour about the divorce? Really?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

It was a tempting offer, and he knew it was unlikely that he'd do better. Should he attempt to confront Triple H directly in the ring, the man would hide behind his newest boy-toy, Curtis Axel, or one of the various other surly members of the Authority. Attempting to stand alone against such a powerhouse, he knew that he didn't stand a chance. But with Stephanie once again on his side, the odds might once again shift to his favor.

Distantly, in the back of his mind, he heard Dean's voice echoing the words 'sell-out'. Was that was this was? Auctioning off his services to the highest bidder? His stomach clenched tightly and immediately, the image of Dean's horrified face as he leveled Roman with a steel chair came to mind. All he could hear was the sick clank of metal on flesh as he beat him over and over and over again... until Roman was no longer moving.

Like a coward, he'd attacked when the big man's back was turned. What was the saying? It's better to have an enemy that slaps you in the face, than a friend who stabs you in the back...

"I want to see it in writing." Seth said finally. "I'm not signing anything until I have irrefutable documentation on how this plays out."

"You're a smart man, Seth. I knew there was a reason that Hunter kept you around." She shuffled some papers around, before making a note to herself. "Drop by my office again in a week, and I'll see to it that it's done."

The King of Kings lay sprawled in the middle of the squared circle, a handsome bruise forming on the side of his face. Seth hovered over him, staring down at the man that had once been his entire world... His Daddy. His Daddy, who'd told him that he would never again have to brave the dark alone. His Daddy, who'd promised him that he would always have a place at his side. His Daddy, who'd sold him out the moment that his existence became inconvenient.

The minute that the cameras stopped rolling, Seth collapsed in a heap beside the fallen COO and sobbed. This, all of it, was his doing. Maybe Dean was right, and he shouldn't have messed with the status quo. Maybe he should have just things naturally progress, and stood by as Axel slowly took his place in his Daddy's heart. Maybe he should have just accepted that he wasn't what his Daddy needed anymore, and let himself be replaced...

SLAY THE KING.

A trembling hand reached out and grabbed hold of Seth's ankle, and Seth's head snapped up. When had Hunter begun moving? "S-Seth..?"

Seth's face contorted in something akin to rage, and he roughly shoved the older man's hand off of him. "Keep your hands to yourself, asshole!"

"I'm proud of you, Seth." Hunter continued, as if he had not heard the brunette's little outburst. He chuckled weakly, before wincing in pain when the movement aggravated his ribs. "Who would've thought that so much rage could exist in such a pretty package."

His expression melted into one of confusion, "What's there to be proud of? I betrayed you."

"You took initiative..." Hunter corrected. With the assistance of the nearby ropes, he was able to haul himself into a sitting position with only minor difficulty. "I... When you first defected from the Shield, you looked to me for guidance... You'd never been apart from Dean and Roman before, and everything was new... scary..."

"I'd never felt so alone..." Seth recalled softly.

"But you were never truly alone, Seth. I-I was always there, right beside you..."

SLAY THE KING. SLAY THE KING.

But he hadn't been right there - it had always been J&J Security, or the Devil's Favorite Demon, or even The Viper... but never his Daddy. No, Daddy had always been hidden safely away behind his desk, perfectly content to control the proceedings from afar. He'd go to him and ask him for help and be met with the cool indifference of Stephanie McMahon. He'd need backup to fend off an assault from a hoarde of superstars and be left to fend for himself so that he might 'learn his lesson'.

How long had he been planning this? Weeks? Months? Was Curtis Axel always the designated 'Plan B', should Seth somehow fall short of achieving his goal? He thought of Roman, on how Hunter had turned on him after his Wellness Violation. How he'd threatened to separate them across the brands as punishment for one little misstep. How Roman had denounced Hunter shortly thereafter. How Dean had been shipped off to SmackDown.

And how Seth was, once again, all alone.

SLAY THE KING.

Seth laughed wryly, "It looks like these hands really are only capable of destruction."

"Seth..?"

"I trusted you. You were all that I had left... You took everything else away... Just ripped the carpet out from under me. You told me that I meant something to you, that you could transform me into something greater. But when I'd failed you, you just... just... you threw me away!" Seth wailed.

Hunter reached out for him again, but this time Seth caught his wrist. He squeezed just tightly enough for it to be painful. Hunter winced, but continued on, undettered, "You're still my precious boy, Seth. You're all that I have left, too... So please, just let me hold you. Let me show you that everything will be alright -,"

His words cut off in a wounded howl as Seth contorted his wrist and applied a shocking amount of pressure to the joint, causing stars to dance before his eyes. Seth had already made up his mind, and was not in the mood to listen to flowery apologies that were, in the grand scheme of things, utterly meaningless. Hunter just feared the inevitability of life alone... Just as Seth, himself, did. He was playing on that fear in an attempt to weaken Seth's resolve.

SLAY THE KING!

With a quickness that belied the aching in his limbs after such a grueling match, Seth climbed to his feet and yanked the man's wrist with him. Nimbly, he rolled the man over onto his stomach and straddled his waist, using his arm as leverage to pull his back up toward his chest. Hunter howled in pain, the stress on his back and hips aggravating many of the war wounds that he'd accumulated that night. But Seth didn't stop.

Drawing back his right elbow, he aimed it squarely between the man's shoulderblades and hit with all the force he could muster. A sharp, cutting pain tore through Hunter's back and into his chest, and his breath became shallow and uneven as the angle made it increasingly more difficult to breathe. Seth held the position for another moment, before releasing him and allowing him to collapse to the ground with a soft thump.

"Now you know what a broken heart feels like." Seth mumbled softly, climbing to his feet and making to exit the ring. "Goodbye, Hunter."