There wasn't a type of wrestling event that Seth didn't like. House shows were smaller and might be less important to the overall feuds, but they were also a chance for the wrestlers to sneak in some fun jokes and skits that Creative wouldn't allow on TV. Taped shows were the lifeblood, the common denominator; they were what the greatest amount of people was able to watch, so that's where the groundwork for feuds was laid. Knowing that people set aside a night or two of their week to follow along was a high compliment. And the pay-per-views were the top tier, of course, the grand stages where the big moves—title changes, betrayals, unexpected returns—played out in front of thousands in the arena and millions behind screens.
Extreme Rules, by its very nature, should have been one of the most interesting. The Royal Rumble was defined by the rumble matches themselves. Survivor Series used to have the elimination team matches, but those were getting rarer each year, it seemed. Extreme Rules, though, should have been like TLC on steroids, a chance to showcase what the wrestlers could do in a less structured environment. Mixed-tag matches were already hemmed in by the gender restrictions, but on the other hand, Seth would get to watch Becky go to work on Lacey, which was always a pleasure.
He was giving Becky a wide berth backstage while she practiced swinging a kendo stick. "I promise I won't stop you from hitting Lacey tonight," he said with a grin, remembering her common complaint about Creative's writing. "Are you sure about the bit with Corbin, though? If you're not comfortable, you can tell—"
Becky stopping swinging for a moment, letting the stick dangle from her hand. "It's fine, Seth. Corbin and I talked it over a lot and we practiced a little bit this afternoon when you were hanging out with Roman. I think it'll work really well."
Seth tried not to bristle at that, but he couldn't help it. He knew the practicing Becky had done with Corbin would have been nothing like their gorilla press attempts at Black and Brave, so he told himself it was only worry that was making him antsy. Corbin was huge and strong, and not used to wrestling women; he could easily hurt Becky without even meaning to. "As long as you're sure."
"Yeah. We had Dana record it on her phone so we could watch it back." Becky started spinning her kendo stick and promptly dropped it. "It looked really solid. And in a weird way, it was kind of fun. You know, like being on a swing when you're a kid and going up really high?"
Thinking back to the child-like joy on her face when they were trying the fake gorilla press, Seth calmed down a bit. He would feel safer if it were someone like Roman doing the move—someone he knew and trusted like a brother—but if Becky was fine with it, he had to trust her. "Well, I might be able to appreciate it as a move after the fact," he admitted, grabbing her kendo stick before she could. "But it's not going to be hard to be mad in the moment." He swung the stick lightly behind her back, catching the other end and using it to draw her close.
For a moment, he worried that Becky would feel coddled and tell him off, but she simply hugged him, tracing the characters in his spine tattoo with one finger by memory alone. "If I can survive Nia's fist," she said, "I'm pretty sure I can survive Corbin. Any word on a cash-in yet?"
Seth shook his head. Heyman had teased one, but he had been doing that ever since Money in the Bank, so it didn't necessarily mean anything. "Haven't heard anything. A lot of people are figuring he'll go for Kofi so Brock would be on SmackDown when it changes channels in the fall. Plus that way he'd get his long weekends whenever he decides to show up."
Becky frowned as she stepped back, letting a hand linger under his ribs for a moment. "It sucks for you and Kofi. I don't get why they think a part-time champion is a good thing."
"Me neither." Seth reached for her again, pressing his lips against her forehead. "So let's go keep our gold and get out of here." It was never quite that easy, but sometimes it was easier to pretend it was. If nothing else, at least he wouldn't have to deal with Corbin for a while and Becky would get to ignite a new feud and hopefully revitalize the women's division.
Without the elimination stipulation of their match with Andrade and Zelina, it was much easier to build a flow and a rhythm in the match. Watching Becky thrash Lacey with a kendo stick was delightful, and their double table jump outside the ring went off almost without a hitch. When Seth noticed a growing bump on Becky's forehead, though, he tried to pull her to the side, making it look like part of the match. She shook him off subtly, managing to squeeze his hand to let him know she was okay. At their next tag, she murmured a quick explanation. "Damn plank doesn't know how to hold on to a damn chair."
Seth wasn't so sure she was fine. Between Nia and Ronda and now Lacey, Becky had taken a lot of head shots in the past year. The match was drawing to a close, down to that fateful End of Days that he was still dreading, so he did his best to keep himself steady. As soon as the match was done, he would carry Becky to the medical area himself if she refused to go. He wasn't supposed to be watching during the attack, so he took his cues from the audience, feeling the impact of Becky's body reverberate through the ring. As he slowly rolled over and saw her sprawled, he didn't even register whatever Corbin was spewing at him. For those first few rage-fuelled seconds, it all felt burningly real. It was only when he saw a glint of genuine worry in Corbin's eyes that he reined himself back in, pummeling him as promised and maybe taking a little too much delight in his curb stomps. A quick glance told him that Becky was safe outside the ring, curled up against the barrier.
As soon as the pin was finished, Seth looked for Becky, but she must have still been huddled. Before he could go to her, though, familiar music hit like a punch in the gut. Lesnar. Seth glanced over at the referee, looking for any sign of verification. Creative hadn't said anything about a cash-in today, and Becky could be hurt; he didn't have the patience for Heyman's grandstanding or Brock's stupid smirk.
The referee gave a subtle shake of his head. Shit. It was a cash-in, then, and it was scheduled to be a successful one. The only mercy was that it was quick: a couple German suplexes, the F5, and then the bell. Seth was in a daze until he saw Becky stirring out of the corner of his eye. The bump on her head was worse now, visibly protruding, and she kept reaching for it. She could make fun of him for his anime eyes all she wanted, but the sheer despair in her eyes made his throat close as she hauled herself up onto the apron. "I'm sorry I let you down." The words felt like they were cracking his sternum. "I let everyone down."
Becky, wisely, stayed silent; he knew that anything she was liable to say wouldn't be camera friendly. She kept quiet until they were backstage, when she promptly turned and hugged Seth so tightly he couldn't breathe. "I didn't know. I didn't know. Creative never said anything to me. Did you know?" When Seth shook his head, she gritted her teeth and swore. "That's why they were pushing the End of Days so hard. It had nothing to do with putting Corbin over as a heel or making me look resilient or even hyping up the intergender stuff. They just wanted me out of the way so I couldn't interfere."
Seth looked at it a slightly different way: with her out of commission outside the ring, fans wouldn't complain as much that she didn't leap in to help him when Brock arrived. "It's done." His voice sounded flat even to his ears, and he smoothed hair back from Becky's face. "We need to get you to medical, Becks. That bump's looking bad—"
"No!" Becky winced a bit at her own voice. "No! This . . . this isn't right! They've given you fuck-all for a reign and then they pull this? What are they doing? Why are they doing this?" All her anger was in her voice; her gaze was still dark and despairing, and it just dug the hole in Seth's chest a bit deeper. "Is this . . . are they punishing us? For what you said about AEW and Dean and for me being outspoken? What next? Are they going to make me lose to Ronda—"
"Lynch." Hunter strode towards them with an utterly controlled expression that gave away nothing. "Get to medical."
Seth tried to grab her arm so she couldn't turn and face down Hunter, but he was still too stunned. "What the hell, Hunter? He didn't even have the belt for half a fucking year! How do you expect ratings to go up if your champion only shows up to tapings when he—"
"Rebecca." Coming from Hunter, her full name was a sledgehammer of sound, and Seth felt her stiffen up. "Go to medical and have your forehead examined."
"Go," Seth murmured, kissing the flat side of her forehead first and then the raised part, which felt worryingly feverish to him. "I'm fine. I'm good. I'll come meet you when I'm done."
"Seth." Tears finally leaked out of her eyes and she rose to give him a hard, fast kiss, glaring at Hunter as she stepped back. "This is bullshit," she hissed, "and you damn well know it." Before Hunter could call her back, she strode off towards the medical office, raising her hand to her forehead again and shrugging off Natalya's attempts to accompany her.
Seth waited until Becky was out of eyeshot before he turned to Hunter. "She's not wrong. You could have told me. I still would have hated it," he added, "but I would have sold it."
Hunter just shrugged. "That's exactly why we didn't tell you. We wanted the surprise to be genuine. Now the men's briefcase is out of play too, Becky's feud with Lacey is done, and—"
"And RAW is back to having a champion who would rather sit at home on his farm than do his damn job!" Seth's ragged breathing hissed through his clenched teeth like steam. "Why? What did I do? What didn't I do? Just tell me, because you know I love this and I have done almost anything you've ever asked of me."
Spreading his hands wide, Hunter shrugged. "I'm not the enemy, Seth. I'm not the end of the line. It wasn't my call. Vince has things in motion, and—"
"Yeah. Vince." Seth rubbed his hands over his face as if he could wake himself up from a bad dream, take himself back to that morning when he woke up in Becky's bed, their belts shining on the dresser. "The fans can blame him because they don't have any power. You do. You should try using it once in a while. You've been in the ring. You know what happens to the level of competition when Brock holds the title hostage and there's no prize to fight for. This isn't going to help ratings, and it's definitely not going to entice people to stay." Hunter was speaking again, talking about changes to the storylines and upcoming feuds, but Seth strode off, heading towards medical. Hunter and the McMahons didn't deserve any more of his energy or his time. He knew there would be interviews to do, but those could wait; he needed to calm down first, and seeing Becky would be the quickest way to achieve that.