DESERVING
By: Cath

Roman sat on the bench in his change room, oblivious to the chatter going on around him as people roamed the halls, geared up after the Royal Rumble.  He stayed where he was, not reacting when there was a soft, familiar knock at the door.    Not now.  He couldn't deal with this right now.  He didn't want to deal with anything, even a friend.

He should have known better; Dean Ambrose wasn't one to let a closed door stand in his way.  Roman finally lifted his head.  Ambrose was still in his gear, his blue eyes wide and keyed up like they always were after a good fight.  The white strap of the Intercontinental title caught the light, its very presence seeming to mock him.  "Dean," Roman said softly.  "Not tonight, man.  I woudn't be real good company."

"Come on, man.  Everyone out there saw that you got screwed over."  Ambrose clapped him on the back.

"You don't get it, man!"  Roman clenched his fist.  "I had that championship and I got screwed out of it!  I had that son of a bitch beat and then his backup and some jackass took it away from me.  You can't know what that's like."

Dean's gazed shifted to the left for a moment.  "Right."  He drew out the word as if it had more than one 'i' in it.  "Yeah, wouldn't have a clue.  You'll get another shot."  Ambrose reached into his back pocket and pulled out a beer, putting it in Roman's hand.  It was still cold.

"Thanks."  Reigns had barely popped the tab before Ambrose was downing one of his own.  "How many of those do you even have?"

A grin spread across Dean's face.  "More than you'd think."

They drank in silence for a while.  "You know," Roman looked up at the ceiling.  "I've been thinking about this.  That was my shot, man.  I've had thirteen shots at the title.  Who knows if I'll ever get another one?"

Dean, in the middle of a drink, coughed.  He set his empty can aside and doubled over, trying to catch his breath.

"You know why they call me a Lunatic?  'cause I do crazy shit like this."

No sooner had he spoken than Roman looked down into his lap to see the Intercontinental title.  "Dean, what-?"

"You're right, man.  You got screwed.  It's not right for you to walk out of here without a title."  Dean smacked his hands on his thighs and stood up.  A grin creeped across his face.  "Besides, I'll be wanting a rematch."  With that, he was gone.

The door barely closed before another visitor came in.  Neville's usual glower was replaced by an unreadable expression.  "While I may be King of the Cruiserweights, Roman... you've proven to me that you're a king among men."  He placed the title on the bench next to Roman and departed.

Gable and Jordan parted to allow The Man that Gravity Forgot to pass by them.  "Reigns," Jordan said.  "We haven't even been on TV for the past month.  These titles deserve better."  He and his partner laid them next to Neville's one on top the other.

Charlotte soon stepped in, robe billowing behind her.  "I know what it's like," she said.  "Coming from a wrestling family, having those expectations on you.  Roman, you really have what it takes to be a champion."  She walked out.

Chris Jericho poked his head in.  "This clashes with my scarf!"  He snapped as he threw the belt in.  Roman barely managed to catch it before it struck him in the face.

Gallows and Anderson walked in, all but ignoring the man on the bench and the pile of gold surrounding him.  "Man, I never realized how ugly these belts are.  They smell like cereal and trombone polish.  Ugh."

"I know, right?  My hot Asian wife will never let me into the house with this thing."

Roman tensed as Kevin Owens walked in, but the man's usual swagger was gone, replaced with an expression Roman had never seen on his face before.

"I'm a family man, Reigns.  I want to provide the right kind of life for my family.  But more importantly, I want to provide the right example.  I want to be a person they can look up to.  And I can't be that person knowing that a more rightful champion  is sitting like a bump on a log in front of me."  He reached over, draping the belt over Roman's shoulder.  "Just... try to carry it to the ring like you ca- you know what?  I'll leave you do it."

There was silence for a moment, then Alexa came into the room.  "Here."  She tossed it into his lap.  "Even though I hope you get another hernia from it... I'd rather you have it than that a-hole Becky getting another shot."  Her hair flicked him in the face as she departed.

A soft knock came before Cena entered, holding hands with Nikki.  "Roman," he began, stepping around the assembled championships.  "I know what it's like to be where you are.  And I also know that you've shown the hustle, loyalty and respect enough to earn this."  He placed the WWE title on Roman's free shoulder.

The two of them lingered.  Roman lifted an eyebrow in silent question.  To his surprise, it was Nikki who spoke up.

"You know, after he won the title..."  She took a deep breath.  "After he won, John proposed."  She unfurled her fingers to reveal a lovely engagement ring, with tiny diamonds creating Cena's logo in the centre.  "And it was the happiest moment of my life, but then I realized... it wasn't right for me to have this when you were left so disappointed tonight."  Her lip quivered for a moment before her expression settled.  She knelt down and placed the ring in the centre of Roman's palm.  "I hope you two are very happy together."  She walked out the door, dabbing at the corners of her eye with a John Cena hand towel that he helpfully offered to her.

Finally alone, Roman took in the sight.  It represented so much passion, so much history, so many years of hard work and dedication and it was all at his feet.

"Maybe," Roman said softly, to himself.  "Maybe now they'll love me."

THE END