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Seth hurts. He never quite gets relaxed enough to sleep after the night before. He's been so adrift after failing to help Cody defeat Rock and Roman, his back feels tight and tense, his knee oddly loose. All bad signs upon heading into Wrestlemania Night 2, when he has to compete against Drew McIntyre and defend his title belt.
It works against him, because of course it does. He fights with everything he has left in him, does his best to ignore CM Punk's abrasive gaze from the commentary table, and still loses. Teary eyed, shaking from the slow but steady crash of adrenaline, he goes backstage, where reality crashes into him with a rush. He keeps his head down, making it to medical. They look him over, concerned murmurs over him, but he ignores them. Waits until they're done, then gets up and walks sluggishly down the hall to his locker room. One he'll be giving up for Damian Priest now, he guesses.
He slumps down onto the couch closest to the door and presses his fingers to his forehead, trying to stave off a building headache. "Shit," he breathes out shakily. He's so tired. Everything hurts. But his evening's not done. He could sit here and wait until the show's over, then sneak out and make it back to his hotel room, but his responsibilities aren't over.
He sighs and gingerly leans over, snagging the straps of his bag and pulling it closer, gritting his teeth against the pain creeping up his lower back. As bad as his knee is feeling, his back somehow hurts worse. Maybe because he's grown so accustomed to his knee being the way it is since January that to now feel discomfort elsewhere leaves him worried and stressed out.
There is only one man on earth who is uniquely suited to be your shield. It held true the night he said it, it holds true now. That alone is what bolsters him to see things through. Grit his teeth against the pain that seems to keep migrating between his back and knee and painstakingly get into the infamous Shield gear. After dressing in bright colors and one outfit more extravagant than the last the last couple of years, it doesn't really suit him to once more don the all black gear that he had debuted on the main roster with, but he does it.
Slips out while everyone is busy watching the opening minutes of Cody against Roman and finds the sound tech. "Hey, I need you to cue up the Shield music in a couple of minutes."
"Oh," the guy says. "Yeah, sure."
Seth nods at him and slowly makes his way out to an exit leading into the crowd. He's not going to be able to do much out there, he knows it already. His body is teetering on the edge of a complete collapse, but he has to do something. He's made too many promises- he's already failed in the tag match and he's failed against Drew, he won't fail a third time. No matter what it costs him. After all, a shield is meant for defense more than offense anyway. So he makes his way slowly to the ring as the Shield music plays on, distracts everyone. Cody's down, Rock's turned away from him, and he sneaks in with a chair, but- there it is- a flash of pain and he chokes, his body freezing as fresh torment shreds through his nerve endings.
Roman. As he had expected. The plan. He breathes through it, trying to move, trying to do something, there's a pause, and then- sharp, bone rattling agony down his spine, steel crashing into flesh anew, and he knows it's bad from how quickly everything goes numb. He hits the ropes, slumps the rest of the way to the mat, and somehow finds himself out of the ring. It's hard to breathe, hard to think, he lays there and blinks up at the ceiling, everything distant and hazy to him. He registers when Cody's music hits and knows that he'd succeeded. His determination to see it all through has paid off. Even though he can't move and he's starting to think something's seriously wrong.
Eventually, after what feels like forever, the worst of the pain eases and he grasps blindly at the side of the ring, struggling upwards to try to peek into the ring, figure out what's happening. Someone helps him up, and he finds himself in the ring, glancing over to find Sami holding him up. Once that support's gone, however, it's impossible to remain standing for too long and he slumps back against the ropes, blinking as Kevin Owens kneels down to talk to him. "M- my back's fucked," he manages through the static in his head and Kevin nods at him, eyes wide and deep with concern.
"Give me a minute, we'll get you out of here," he says before going to say something to someone in the mess of bodies in the ring. He comes back a minute later and rolls out of the ring, helping Seth to slide under the bottom rope as well, helping him to stay on his feet and looping his arm around his shoulder. "Hold on to me," he says, his brows furrowed in concern as he helps him around the mess of stairs and other debris around the ringside area.
They pause for a minute and Seth pulls away from Kevin long enough to step forward when he realizes that Cody is kneeling inside of the ring, watching him. He can't find the energy to speak but when Cody reaches out for him, he meets him halfway and shakes his hand.
"I owe you," Cody says to him, and Seth just stares at him, unable to figure out exactly what this means while he keeps struggling to focus on anything beyond the pain coursing through his body. After one more squeeze to his hand, Cody nods at Kevin and leaves. He returns to the celebration going on in the ring, and Kevin begins to maneuver them back around the ring to the ramp.
The noise fades away slowly as they make their way past the gorilla position and Kevin lightly squeezes Seth's arm to try to get his attention. "Alright," he says. "What do you want?" Seth blinks up at him and Kevin exhales. "Medical, or...?"
"Hotel," Seth sighs, his eyes drifting shut. "Sleep."
"I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone, especially without getting checked out," Owens says slowly, but Seth shakes his head.
"Won't be alone," he manages, putting one foot in front of the other carefully as they continue to trudge forward through the halls.
Understanding dawns on Kevin's face and he nods. "Alright," he sighs, giving in despite all of his misgivings. "Let's go then."
Seth doesn't remember sitting slumped against the window in Kevin's rental, or the drive to the hotel. Everything's kind of hazy and far away, and he thinks it's probably just as well with how his body felt the last time he was more aware of things around him.
He groans a little, finding himself in an elevator, Kevin still next to him. It's disorienting, and he thinks he's slumping a little more than he means to, but Kevin tightens his hold on him and presses him against the wall, bracing him there. "Hang on," he says. "We're almost there."
There's a beep, and then the elevator stops with a shuddering groan, the doors opening slowly and hurting Seth's eyes even more than they already have been as the light reflects off of them.
"Which number?" Kevin asks and Seth squints into the gloom of the hallway, thinking he should be a little more concerned by the bits of time he's losing here and there, but not finding the energy to do so.
"405," he mumbles.
"Alright," Kevin says, adjusting his grip on Seth and following the signs to the door that reads 405. He doesn't even bother with a keycard, just reaches out and knocks sharply against the door, continuing to do so with more and more force and volume until it opens, Jon Moxley glowering out at them.
"WHAT?" he snaps, looking like he's gearing up for a fight... until his gaze shifts to the side and he sees Seth barely hanging on against Kevin's arm. "Fuck." He immediately reaches out and cups Seth's face. "Hey, you hear me?"
"Dean," Seth mumbles, head drifting forward.
Mox grimaces, continuing to stroke Seth's jaw before glaring over to Kevin. "Did he even see medical?"
"He didn't want to," Kevin says with a shrug. "He just wanted sleep. And you." He stares at Mox, nonplussed.
"Goddammit. Fine. Come here, Seth," he says, guiding Seth away from Kevin and into the room. "I gotcha."
"I fucked up," Seth mumbles against Mox's shoulder. "Lost everything... failed..."
"No, you didn't," Mox murmurs, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes and searching his expression with a worried squint. "You didn't fail, you wanted to be Rhodes' shield and you succeeded. He wouldn't have had the momentum to win at the end if not for you."
"Wouldn't have needed me tonight if I didn't screw up last night," Seth mumbles.
Mox waits, nodding at Kevin as he takes his leave, kicking the door closed once he's out of sight. "Come on." He guides Seth to the bed and slowly begins helping him out of the gear, shaking his head. "Never thought I'd see you dressed like this again," he muses, getting Seth down to his shirt and pants before looking up at him from where he kneels between his feet, pushing the boots under the bed where neither of them will be able to trip over them.
"Did it..." Seth exhales slowly, gaze distant. "Do you think it hurt like this when I hit Roman twelve years ago? I couldn't even move..."
Mox shakes his head. "No, I don't think so," he says quietly. "Seth, look at me." Warm fingers against his chin guides Seth's gaze and Mox sighs. "With your back and knee issues, I'd be surprised if you didn't feel like shit right now. I was watching, it was a rough couple of hits, not to mention everything you went through against McIntyre and the tag match last night. You should've gone to medical. And this is me saying that, so that should tell you something."
"Can't think straight," Seth mumbles. "Everything's..." He waves a hand at his head. "...foggy... Wanted to see you."
"I'm not complaining," Mox says. "Just they would probably be able to help you more than I can."
"Doubt that," Seth says, leaning towards him and closing his eyes. "Just want sleep."
"You're probably going to regret this in the morning," Mox sighs. "But alright." He eyes Seth for a minute, glancing over at where Kevin had dropped Seth's luggage and kicks it out of the way, moving over to his own bag instead and pulling out a loose t-shirt and pants. "You're wearing my clothes tonight. I think it'll be more comfortable for both of us." Seth squints at him, trying to decipher this, and Mox shrugs. "For my eyes, and you in general," he says with a smirk.
When Seth doesn't even try to volley back at this, Mox exhales slowly, realizing anew just how bad off physically and emotionally he is right now. "C'mon," he says, carefully getting Seth out of the last of the drab clothing, tossing it aside. He slips the shirt over his head and helps him stand long enough to get into the pants. "There you go," he says, helping him lay down, watching the pain shift across his face as his back muscles stretch and try to adjust for this new position.
"Oh," Seth says, exhaling slowly. His fingers are trembling as he clenches the bedding, eyes fluttering in the faint glow coming from a light across the room.
"We're getting you checked out in the morning," Mox tells him quietly, squeezing his hand. "But I'm going to be right here if you need anything." He's still on Japan timezones, jetlag nagging at him as he lays down next to Seth anyway,
"I'm glad you're home," Seth mumbles, shifting and pressing tighter into Mox's side.
Mox's face softens and he brushes his fingers through Seth's hair. "I'm glad I am too," he murmurs, leaning against his pillows and watching Seth slowly drift off into what looks like a deep sleep, thankfully far away from the pain and emotional turmoil of the last couple of days. At least for now.
Seth may have given everything to be Cody's shield and ensure his victory against Roman tonight, but likewise Mox is Seth's protector, and it's far from a sacrifice, even if it means he has to save Seth from himself.