Flames

Of Messiahs and Men, part 1

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When I wrote this, I didn't know Roman and his wife were expecting another set of twins. I could have edited it in, I suppose, but I decided to leave the scene as it was.

Everywhere Becky looked around Seth's home, it seemed like there was a screen. Television or tablet, laptop or cell phone: virtually all the rooms aside from the bathrooms were connected. The irony, she supposed, was that usually they had so little private time together that they coveted it, hoarded it, and kept their screen time to a minimum. Now that they were essentially in isolation, they were relying on those same screens to keep them connected to family and friends. Most surreal to her were the video chats with fellow wrestlers. Normally they saw each other on a weekly basis—more often than their own families, at times—but now they barely saw each other at the show tapings even when their matches were back to back, simply because of the stringent protocols.

"I wish you were going to have a proper Mania," Becky told Drew, drawing her legs up to her chest and resting her chin on her knees. Main-eventing WrestleMania 35 would forever be one of her fondest memories, and she hoped all her friends were able to experience the same high at least once. If things had been different, she had no doubt that Drew's match against Brock Lesnar would have been the main event, and she would have happily stayed until the very end to watch it unfold.

"I know." Drew sighed as he leaned back in his chair and reached for something off-screen. "But at least I'll get the match. That's more than a lot of guys get, so I'm grateful." Then he grinned. "Besides, look at the Irish and Scottish taking all the gold! Me, you, Nikki—and then when you factor in NXT, we're damn well taking over!"

"Oh, be nice. We can include Pete too. I know he's English," Becky began, "but he's a good lad."

"Who's a good lad?" Seth called out, walking up behind her. Unless they were doing interviews or fitness chats—or not fully dressed—neither of them minded making an unintentional cameo during a call. Bending down to rest his chin on Becky's shoulder, he waved. "Hey, Drew."

Drew covered his eyes with a hand. "You ought to warn a person before flashing that mug around," he laughed. "The abs at least have some style."

Becky turned to kiss Seth's cheek. "Not a fan of the man bun, Drew?"

"Then that just means I have less competition," Seth replied as he straightened up. He and Drew didn't get mistaken as often as the Usos did—their builds were too different—but it was always vaguely amusing when it did happen. "How are you feeling about your match?"

"Good, good. Obviously not what I had dreamt of," Drew added, "but what can you do?" A beep on his end made him glance off-screen. "Ah, sorry. I have to take that. Good luck with your matches."

"You too. Take care." Becky disconnected and leaned against Seth. "Who do you want to call next?"

They didn't get a chance to discuss it, because a beep signalled an incoming call. "Roman, I guess," Seth replied, pulling up another chair as Becky answered the call. "Hey, bro."

"Oh, hey, Seth. Didn't see you there, man. Hey, Becks." Roman looked tired, but otherwise well. His WrestleMania disappointment wasn't going to be the lack of a crowd for his big moment, but rather that the moment wasn't happening at all; due to his health, he had bowed out of his title match against Goldberg. "How are things in the Man Cave?"

Seth shot him a look. "Don't encourage her. We were finally getting her away from the bad puns, man!" Shaking his head, he leaned back and slung an arm around Becky's shoulders.

"Hi, Roman. We're good. He's still trying to get me to watch Game of Thrones." Becky gave Seth a quick peck on the cheek. "I told him he has a picture of me on the throne, so that should be good enough for him."