Chapter Text
Sami Zayn lost.
He knew it was over the second he tweaked his back. Done, dusted.
He knew he failed.
Escorted to medical immediately, he felt so many emotions course in his head. Anger, frustration, sadness. He knew it’d happen. It still hurt. His chest was heavy, his back was aching, and he felt so awful.
They sat him down on the bed, checking his back and fussing over him. He felt like a kid again.
The door opens with a click.
“Hey,” Melo stands, leaning against it. “You did good.”
“Doesn’t feel like it,” Sami murmurs.
The US Champ sighs, moving to sit next to him. “You did. Man, you went bell to bell with Drew even injured as hell. You would have won if you hadn’t been got.”
“Don’t lie to me. Please.”
Melo groans. “I’m not! Why would I lie about that? If you looked like shit, I’d tell you.”
Sami sighs. Hisses from a press on his back. Lowers his head. “Sorry. I know.”
Silence spills between the two of them. He feels bad, but he can’t really ignore the elephant in the room. Both elephants. There’s way too many.
“Hey, um, are you in the Rumble?”
Melo shakes his head. “Ilja is. I’m not. Didn’t see a point, I’ve already got a belt.”
That makes sense, he supposes.
It’s quiet, again. Sami feels bad for making him think about Ilja. They’re probably still fighting. Definitely still fighting. Guilt creeps into his system. They have to make up. They’ve become a staple in his life.
If they break up, what happens to him and Ilja?
A ring interrupts his thoughts. He questions who could be calling him right now. Kevin, maybe?
It’s a groupchat. The Bloodline groupchat. It’s Jimmy ringing. Melo’s ears perk up. “That Kevin?”
“Jimmy,” Sami responds, answering with a smile.
The camera shows Jimmy and Naomi together, hugging on the couch. “Yo, uce,” He says, with a frown. “Sorry you lost. Drew’s such a coward, can’t with his ass.”
“Thanks, Jim. You’re watching live?”
“Hell yeah, we are!” Naomi grins. “Wanted to check in on you too, Sami. Anybody with you?”
“Melo’s with —” He turns the camera, to see an empty spot. Oh. Well, okay. “Nevermind. He’s a little out of it, him and Ilja aren’t on the best of terms.”
“No kiddin’, they were angry as hell at each other yesterday.”
Click! The join sound. Who’s joining?
“Hey,” Kevin. “Sami, you did amazing out there.”
A wave of relief washes over him. Naomi oohs in response.
“Kev. I’m sorry I didn’t win, I really tried.”
“Who cares if you didn’t win? You tried your best, that’s all that matters. Jimmy, back me up here.”
Jimmy nods in agreement. “Uce, you did the best you could. Just gotta show it to him next time.”
“There won’t be a next time —”
“No, baby, yes there will,” Naomi chides. “If there’s not, you ain’t bein’ the godfather.”
Sami blinks. His jaw drops. He hears Kevin laugh. “I’m the godfather?”
“You’re not if you don’t get your rematch.”
Wow. That’s far too much information at once. Kevin won’t stop laughing.
“Pff, your face!”
“Kev, stop laughing at me.”
He chuckles, shaking his head. “Sorry. That cheer you up any?”
“…. A little. It’s okay, we still have the Rumble. Jey will win.”
He has to win.
For both of them, now, not just himself.
“Ooh, number one is Oba! Shiit. Everybody is cooked,” Jimmy laughs, grinning.
The noise is a lot. Sami sighs, eyes on the screen on the wall. Oba Femi, entrant number one. Jey said he’d be out later. He’s allowed to zone out, just for a moment.
So he does.
He watches, but he doesn’t really watch. He’s barely there.
Ilja comes out, he knows that. He knows Knight returns, he hears Jimmy’s cheer and Kevin’s groan. He hears, but he doesn’t really listen, if that makes sense.
Not until Jey comes out. The crowd is loud, he’s grinning from ear to ear and Sami feels that just for a moment, maybe one of them can get a win.
“He’s got this,” Jimmy says. “Uce comin’ for back to back wins!”
Kevin grins. “Yeah. He’ll win.”
Until Roman’s music hits. Jimmy cheers, Naomi sighs, Kevin grimaces. He knows it’s rocky with Roman. Sami’s not too fond of him, either, but he’s been trying. For Jey.
And when Roman punches Jey in the face?
Sami sees red.
“What the hell?” He mumbles, brain scrambling to make sense of it. “What the hell?”
Jimmy grimaces. “Every man for himself. Fair play, but ouch.”
“No, no. That’s not right. You team with the people you love, then you toss them out. Jey, c’mon …”
Sami watches more intently than ever. The commentary from the three of them goes over his head. Jey has to win. He has to. Beat Roman, make it to Wrestlemania. He can do it.
Until he’s tossed.
By Roman fucking Reigns.
He feels the anger boil the moment he sees it. What the fuck?
“Are you fucking serious?!” Kevin and Sami say at the exact same time. It’d make him laugh if he wasn’t livid.
“That wasn’t even — oh my god, I’m gonna kill that selfish bitch,” Kevin groans. He’s angry. He always is.
“Hey, not too much on big uce! We still got a shot at rulin’ Mania with him.”
Naomi squints. “Baby, we had more of a chance with Jey. That was stupid on Roman’s part.”
“It was,” Sami follows up. “I’m gonna get Jey. Call you back, guys.”
“Hey,” Kevin’s tone is soft. “Take it easy. You’re not 100%, don’t pretend to be.”
He smiles through the phone, nodding. “Promise.”
It clicks. He puts the phone down on the bed. He’s sure he’ll throw it if he doesn’t.
He knows he won’t take it easy. Moving to get Jey means not taking it easy.
But he loves him too much to not help him out.
Sami always knew his heart would be his downfall.