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Roman had to get out of here. The feeling set in the moment he walked into gorilla and was immediately swarmed by production staff offering congratulations and roster stragglers giving him begrudging nods. It didn't abate until he had dodged Hunter's cheesy pointing photoshoot and was safely inside his private dressing room checking up on his travel arrangements. His chauffeur was probably already outside with the car, ready to take him to his private jet and away from the swarm of hypocrites and sycophants he had to call colleagues. If he timed it right, he would be safely away from prying eyes by the time the adrenaline fully wore off and the whole thing hit him.
It would have been the sensible thing to do, to get the hell out of dodge. Instead, he was stalking down the corridors of this oversized, extravagant, brand-new stadium's backstage area, searching for—
There he was.
Jey noticed him as soon as he turned the corner. Oh, he pretended not to— he kept leaning against the wall with faux casualness, eyes fixed on the door across from him— but Roman knew him too well. The steady hands and the carefully pulled-down shoulders were as much a tell as fidgeting and hunching up, if one knew what to look for.
Roman couldn't resist messing a bit with his favorite cousin. He schooled his face into a thunderous expression and barreled towards Jey with determined strides. To his credit, Jey didn't cower. He turned to Roman with raised eyebrows, casually defiant. Only his eyes’ flickering gave him away.
"You've got a lot of nerve," Roman said as he approached. "It'll be a cold day in hell before you pull one over me."
Roman pulled Jey's head down and put him in a soft headlock, rubbing his knuckles on Jey's head. Jey tensed up for a second, almost pulling back before submitting to his fate. Roman switched to ruffling his hair.
"Got anything to say?" he asked his cousin as he released him.
Jey gave him a wry half-smile and put out his hand to dap him up.
"Congrats, uce," he said, pulling Roman in for a one-armed hug.
Roman pounded his back and then held him in place, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Jey's.
It wasn't long before Jey started to fidget, shifting to glance towards the closed door. Roman suppressed a flash of irritation.
" 'Proud of you," he told Jey, holding his cousin's head in place so he could look him in the eye. "You're finally getting it. Stop for no one, you are the one that matters. That's how you get to the top."
Jey barely reacted to the pep talk, eyes flickering to the door. Roman magnanimously let it slide. After all, he was here for the same reason.
"How is he?" he asked as he released Jey and took a step back.
"Concussion protocol."
"Routine or?"
Jey nodded.
"Mhm," Roman acknowledged. Nothing inherently concerning, then, just the natural next step to a Claymore to the head. "He fought well."
Then, when Jey didn't respond: "He's tough."
Jey sighed.
"I know," he said like a confession.
Of course he did. Few people knew better than the two of them just what kind of damage Sami Zayn could walk off.
Roman let the silence stand for a moment, just keeping vigil next to his cousin.
His patience didn't last long. The adrenaline was wearing off; he had to get out of here. Jey would have to be his messenger.
"Tell him…" He paused for a second, choosing his words carefully. "Tell him that when I get my title back, he has an invitation to challenge me for it."
It wasn't an offer made lightly— Sami could be extremely dangerous when he had something to prove, and he was twice as dangerous in a hometown crowd.
Maybe that was what had gone wrong: This wasn't really his hometown crowd. Oh, they might fawn over him now, but Roman wouldn't soon forget that they had never given him the time of day until Roman had plucked him from obscurity. The people of Montreal had been with Sami through thick and thin, but this crowd were fair-weather friends. Roman knew a thing or two about those. Sami must have known it subconsciously, too.
Taking in Jey's surprised face, he deigned to explain himself.
"I am well aware of the debts this family owes Sami Zayn."
The greatest of those debts nodded, his face serious. It was nice, Jey being on the same page as him.
"A'ight. Yeah. I'll tell him, uce."
Roman nodded and turned to leave. As he walked away, something occurred to him:
"Not you, though." He pointed at Jey and walked backwards as he spoke. "You'll have to earn it the old fashioned way."
Jey laughed.
"Yeah, alright, uce. Fly safe."
Roman let the cheek go unchallenged, turning around and waving as he left. Why not. It was a day of celebration, after all. Best to go his own way and leave the loser lovebirds to their little loser lovefest.
As soon as Roman turned the corner, Jey sagged against the wall and took a deep breath. He counted backwards from 60 in his head, as slow as he could make it, then opened his recent messages.
He's gone, he sent.
As he had suspected, the door opened immediately.
"Good," Solo said grumpily. "Sami don't need that kind of energy right now." He debated with himself for a second, but his curiosity won out: "What did he even want?"
"To offer Sami a title shot."
Solo raised an eyebrow.
"Full of himself, ain't he."
Jey shrugged. It was true, but he wasn't about to say it.
"How's Sami?" He asked instead.
"Passed with flying colors." Solo sent Jey a meaningful look. "Chipper as always."
Meaning, he was putting up a brave front for Solo. For someone as open with his emotions as he was, Sami was often reluctant to admit to the negative ones, especially in front of someone he felt responsible towards.
Solo opened the door fully to let him in. Jey strode in, suddenly feeling every bit of the impatience that he had been suppressing.
"Man, how come they let you in?" Jey asked Solo, aiming for teasing and landing closer to childishly jealous.
Solo shrugged.
"Timing, I guess. They needed someone to keep him from wandering off." He gave Jey a searching look and announced: "Well, I'm done here." He turned to Sami and pointed at him. "You better listen to the doctors, Sami. Don't think I won't sic Tala on you." He turned back to Jey. "We just waitin' on the physio to come check on him now, for his back."
"Thanks, uce."
"Your problem now," he said, patting Jey on the back— a tag.
Jey ruffled his brother's hair in thanks as Solo walked out and closed the door behind him.
Even though he had rushed to get in, Jey hesitated before turning to face Sami. He didn't know what he would find: Sami, broken and bruised and caught up in self-loathing; Sami, cheerfully acting like nothing was wrong. He didn't know what would be worse.
What he got was somewhat in the middle: Sami was lying on his side in the infirmary bed, ginger hair a messy cloud all around him. He summoned up a tired smile when he saw Jey.
Jey, feeling awkward, tried to lighten the mood.
"That guy, huh?" He gestured behind him with a thumb to where Solo had left. "He givin' you trouble?"
Sami's smile got a little more sincere. "He's been threatening to sic Tala on everything and everyone. Nice to know he cares."
He paused, and reached out a hand to Jey.
"Hi, Jey," he said, not hiding the affection in his voice.
"Hey, Sami," Jey reciprocated.
Jey walked to him and took his extended hand, kissing the back of it as he sat down. There was a doctor's stool conveniently located at Sami's bedside, perfectly positioned to look at Sami's face. A smile came to Jey's face, unbidden, at the thought of Solo bullying some poor doctor off of his seat so he could nag Sami all the better.
"How was the Rumble?" Sami asked.
Roman won, Jey meant to say.
"I lost."
"I'm sorry. I'm sure you fought well."
Jey shrugged. He hadn't, really. All he had done was run it back (and he stood by it; the faces of his opponents when he did it were worth it every time), get smacked for it, punch Cody and fail to throw Roman out. Hardly an Iron Man run.
He'd had enough time on the walk here to calm down and admit to himself that his heart hadn't really been in the match. Half of it was back home, with Jimmy and Trin, a constant prayer in the back of his mind for his sister and nephew's well-being. The other half of it was now next to him, not showing a hint of the heartbreak that had overcome him as he'd been left alone in that ring with nothing but obnoxious bagpipe music to keep him company.
Jey didn't have time for self-pity; his family needed him.
He must have spaced out, because he startled when Sami ran careful fingers down the side of his face.
"You're bruising up," he said. How like Sami, to notice a small hurt on someone else when he was literally bedbound from pain.
"It's nothing," he said, turning his head to press his lips to Sami's palm. "Just Roman."
"From when he threw you out?" Sami guessed.
"Nah, this was from earlier," Jey replied without thinking, caught up on nuzzling his face against Sami's hand. "I was goofin' off and he smacked me."
"He what."
Sami pushed against the bed to try to sit up and immediately collapsed back on the bed with a surprised, pained noise. His back must've seized up on him.
"Sami!" Jey said, alarmed. "You gotta stay down, uce."
Sami glared at him— a raw, humiliated thing that made Jey's heart catch in his throat. He ignored it and focused on the task at hand.
"C'mon, uce," he said as he pushed on Sami's shoulders. "Let's get you on your front, ease up the pressure."
"Jey," Sami said warningly.
"I'm not dodging the question." Then, when Sami didn't budge: "It ain't like that, uce, I promise. Jus’ lemme move you first."
Sami grumbled but let himself be rearranged into a more comfortable position, on his front with a leg out straight and the other one bent to his side at an angle. Jey went back to Sami's side, dragging the stool even closer so that Sami wouldn't try to twist his back to look at him. He ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead as he sat back down.
"It really ain’t like that, Sami," Jey began, upholding his part of the deal. "It was jus' strategy. So they don't think we was workin' together."
Sami gave him a skeptical look.
"If you're sure."
He nodded. He was sure. When Roman had sent him flying, right after pretending he'd approved of the unseriousness, Jey had been stunned. Proper, brain-gone-blank stunned, in a way that hadn't happened in a long time. And then he'd come back online, seen Cody harassing Roman, and things had clicked: It was all part of the plan. They were family; they would work together and have each other's backs until the last moment possible. And they did, and then the moment came: Roman threw Jacob out, Jey tried his luck on Roman and got thrown out instead, and…
"Roman won."
"Good for him," Sami said, not sounding very happy for Roman at all.
"Mhm," Jey agreed as if it was an honest statement. It came out impossibly fond.
As much as he hated seeing Sami in pain, part of Jey got a thrill out of getting to see this side of him: Grumpy and ungracious, denying others the vast reserves of compassion and forgiveness from which Jey had benefitted so endlessly. Some of it was nostalgia— the reminder of how bitchy Sami used to be back during their Bloodline days. Some of it was the awareness of how lucky Jey was that Sami let him see him like this.
"Hey, uce?"
"Mmh?"
"Love you."
Sami gave him a startled look. Jey tried not to read into it— Sami knew how loved he was. Of course he knew. And if he was too tired and defeated in this moment to remember, well. Jey would just have to remind him.
Jey leaned down and kissed Sami's nose. The corner of Sami's mouth twitched upwards, so Jey doubled up on it, nuzzling against Sami's face. He kept a hand between Sami's shoulder blades as he did, making sure Sami wouldn't twist or tense up while Jey tried to figure out if he could even give him a proper kiss from this angle.
"Here, Jey?" Sami asked reproachingly, but his hand was pulling at Jey's waistband.
For a single brilliant, suicidally reckless moment, Jey considered going along with it. Sami always got all pent up after a match, win or lose, and Jey would be lying if he said he didn't react to Sami in a fight like the proverbial dog to a bell. And wasn't he here to help Sami? If what would make Sami feel better was to give him a handy in a medical wing of a stadium in the middle of fucking Riyadh, Saudi Arabia… Who was Jey to deny him?
Unfortunately, his common sense prevailed.
"Sami, c'mon," he said as he stepped away from Sami's wandering hand and caught it with his own. "Don't tempt me like that, uce."
Sami just shrugged and took his hand back. Your loss.
Jey resisted the urge to apologize and offer himself back. Sami hadn't been thinking straight: He was still loopy from that post-adrenaline crash and had acted on pure instinct. It fell on Jey to be the adult in the room and keep them safe, and that was. Fine.
It was fine.
Jey was fine.
He just had to power through 'til the doctor came and went and Sami was safely stowed away in Jey's suite and it would be fine.
He took a tentative step forward and reached out to Sami. His hand hovered above Sami's head, hesitating.
"Hey, uce?"
"Mmh?"
"Lemme fix your hair for you?"
Sami hummed in assent. "But no funny business."
Jey snorted in mock offense. You got a bit creative on a man's hairdo once and he never let you live it down.
It had succeeded at diffusing the tension, though.
Typical Sami, Jey thought as he set to the task of carefully removing the mangled hair tie from Sami's mess of a mane. Half unconscious and you're still comforting me.
Jey's hands trembled as he slipped the hair tie on his own wrist and began carefully separating Sami's hair into strands. He wished he had a comb. He was fucking this up. Even though Sami was the one who had gone through a devastating loss, he was still having to pick up on Jey's erratic moods and cheer him up. All he could do was take care of Sami's body, and he couldn't even do that right.
His fingers got caught in a tangle. Sami's pained intake of breath pulled at Jey's heart, flooding him with guilt. He forced himself to keep going, combing through Sami's hair even more slowly and carefully. He thought he heard a sniffling sound— fuck, had he hurt Sami that badly?
"Jey?" Sami's voice sounded clear and concerned.
Jey blinked, confused, and felt a trail of wetness roll down his cheek. Oh.
"Jey, baby, let me see you?"
Jey was on his knees before Sami could even ask him to, resting his forehead on the mattress by Sami's head like it was a church pew. His shoulders were shaking with suppressed sobs. He didn't know what was fucking wrong with him, but the cold floor against his bare shins was at least grounding him, and he was close enough to Sami to feel his body heat.
"Shhh sh sh," Sami murmured, petting the top of Jey's head. "It's okay, sweetheart, you're okay."
But you're not, Jey wanted to scream. You're not okay and I fucking hate it. I could cope with you being gone because you were happy and thriving away from all my bullshit, but now you're hurt and miserable so what's the fucking point of anything?
He bit his lip to keep quiet. Sami didn't need none of that.
"What is it, baby? Talk to me," Sami asked so sweetly, and Jey didn't want to deny him anything else, so he tried.
"I just want—" I want to take care of everyone: You and Jimmy and Trin and Solo and Jacob. Roman. The fans. The entire locker room. I just want to be happy and make people happy but half the time I don't even know who I am or what I'm doing I just know I have to keep going and I don't know how much more I have left in me.
"I just wanna take care of you," he said, the most honest thing he could pull out of his mouth.
"You are."
Jey shook his head vigorously. Not enough. Not well enough.
"Yes, you are," Sami said firmly. The love and compassion in his voice made Jey want to die, or maybe burrow himself inside Sami's skin and never come out again. "You're being so good for me right now."
That was such a nonsensical statement that Jey had to lift his head up to stare at Sami incredulously.
Sami's lips twitched upwards.
"You're here, Jey. You—" He paused to get his thoughts together. "The only thing I really need right now," he said carefully. "Is to not be alone with my thoughts. And you've done that already, you and Solo."
That made enough sense to Jey. They both had their weak spots that they were careful of, lest they sent them back to their old ways. Jey's was his reactivity— fear turning to anger turning to indiscriminate violence. For Sami, his brilliant mind, with all the connections it was capable of making, could easily misfire and lead him down paths of paranoia and self-isolation.
"You know what I'm thinking about, right now?" Sami continued.
Jey shook his head.
"You." Jey felt all the unearned love and forgiveness that was contained in that statement. "How much I'd missed tagging with you and spending time with you, how sweet and beautiful and loving you are and how lucky I am that you still love me—"
"Always, Sami."
"—and that you let me have every part of you. And," he added with a mischievous grin and a wink. "All the things I'm going to do to you when I get you alone. If this old body even lets me, that is."
"That's okay," Jey blurted out. "It's okay if you can't do anything tonight. I'll do it. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it for you."
Sami's smile got wider and (Jey hoped) a little meaner.
"I'll hold you to that."
Please do, Jey didn't beg, lest they end up back where they had just come from: With Sami frustrated and Jey breaking down from the effort not to submit right there and then to Sami's imaginative mercies.
If what Sami needed right now was grounding and distraction, then Jey would be the most interesting man alive for him. He knew it wasn't a long-term solution for all their problems— there was still the potential injury and Roman's offer and the strain of a long-distance relationship and Sami's demons prowling around— but it was what he had been asked for, in this moment, and he would provide.
"Can I go back to your hair, uce?"
"Sure. I'll even let you put a couple braids on it."
Jey sat down next to Sami on the bed, got his fingers back on Sami's hair, and began to regale him with his foolproof plan to make his unborn nephew the best dressed baby in the northern hemisphere.
They would be okay.