A/N: Started this between the Rumble and the following Raw while trying to figure out how WWE would continue ADR vs Show's feud. I'm not sure which was worse in the end, lol.
Twenty four hours earlier, Alberto Del Rio had defeated Big Show at the Royal Rumble with help from Ricardo Rodriguez- the ring announcer pulling out duct tape and tangling it around the much larger man's legs, snaking it around the ring ropes so he can't move in time to get up for the ten count. Del Rio wanders through the halls, a proud grin on his lips as he feels the steady weight of the title belt around his waist, walking back to his personal locker room with two bottles of water for him and Ricardo. He has a segment later on in the night, but for now-
His thoughts are disrupted when he notices that the door to his room is half-open, strange shadows spilling out into the hallway. Forgetting the water, he allows them to drop from his hands as he rushes into the room, all thoughts of celebrating forgotten- they still have enemies, many of them, and- He skids to a stop, finding Big Show's massive frame leaning over a downed Ricardo. "Hey!" he yells, immediately on Show, kneeing him in the face. But there's not enough room amongst all of the furniture and four walls to mount much else offense on the fly, and the giant plants his hands on Del Rio's chest, pushing with all of his strength and sending him back into a couch.
As he lays there, his eyes narrowing, Show leaves the room quickly but Alberto is up before he even clears the doorframe, not wanting to let the monster get away. Even so, Ricardo's continued stillness and silence remains in the back of his mind and he grabs the first person he sees, Zack Ryder, and slings him into his locker room. "Check on Ricardo, I'll be back!" he snaps, ignoring the protests from the Long Island Iced Z. But the hallway is shaped like a T and he's not sure which way the much larger man has gone, staring left to right in aggravation. He's about to grab the nearest tech and ask if he saw anything when he hears Ryder yelling.
"He's not breathing!" He skids to a stop and swallows, turning back towards his locker room. Brain catching up with what he'd heard, he runs back and clings to the doorway, staring in at his pale, motionless ring announcer. He can't be sure if it's the angle or the lighting or what, but the younger man's lips look blue from here and he shakes his head, not believing it. "C'mon, bro," Zack mumbles, hands fumbling uncertainly over him. He finally looks up and catches Alberto's eye. "What do we do?"
His voice finally springs Alberto into action, entering the room hurriedly and kneeling down by Ricardo. "What happened?!"
Zack hesitates and finally holds his hand out, revealing strips of the thick silver tape that just last night had been Alberto's salvation, and now tonight... "I rolled him over, and these were... were over his mouth and nose... I think, I think Show tried to suffocate him with them."
Del Rio feels sick, staring at his ring announcer. "Ricardo, Ricardo," he snaps, hands pressed against the younger man's neck and chest. Ryder is right, though, he's unresponsive and eerily still, his lips still looking like they have a blue tinge. Forcing himself to breathe, Alberto tries to think, shifting his hands until they rest against Ricardo's sternum. Mumbling to himself in Spanish to stabilize his hands, he closes his eyes and thrusts his palms against the younger man's midsection, hoping that this works. He squints an eye open and shakes his head as nothing happens, trying again after a moment. Still nothing and he begins to sweat, worried that he'd arrived too late, that all of this is horribly futile. "Por favor, Ricardo!" he hisses, trying a third attempt with more strength this time, holding his hands interlaced there for a long moment, his ears buzzing and eyes shut tightly until-
"Del Rio, bro, look," Zack snaps, daring to grip his shoulder. Alberto's about to shrug him off but his eyes do open, his senses returning to him in a painful rush, and he finds Ricardo's chest raising and falling under his palms. Glancing up, he finds Ricardo breathing raggedly, his eyes fluttering open. "You did it."
"A-amigo," he chokes out, cupping the younger man's face for a moment before turning back to Zack. "Get the trainer. Now!" As Zack nods and scrambles off, Alberto shifts, pulling Ricardo up to rest against his shoulder, listening to his strained breathing. "It's ok, you're going to be fine," he tells him quietly.
"El-" he chokes, struggles to say through a painfully dry throat.
"No, no, mi amigo, don't speak. Just rest. I'm here. You're ok." Ricardo stares up at him, eyes watery and scared, as he gingerly reaches up and rests his hand against his already bruising sternum. Alberto closes his eyes, knowing that he probably caused broken ribs if not something worse, and rocks him back and forth gently. "Lo siento, lo siento, I should've stayed... I should've..."
"Not... your..." His voice fails again but he moves his hand, fluttering it against Del Rio's face. "Not..."
"Shhh," he whispers. "Don't force yourself to talk. The trainer will be here soon, you'll be fine, mi amigo. Just breathe, hmm?" He sighs and presses his face to Ricardo's hair, listening to his every breath. "He will pay, he will pay," he whispers, repeats the words as Ricardo nods against his shoulder, believing his every claim as always. But for now, making sure that Ricardo is going to be alright matters more, the trainer interrupting Del Rio's thoughts as the Mexican aristocrat sits back a little to allow him to examine the ring announcer. First your title, he thinks. Then who knows what. As he squeezes his friend's hand in reassurance, his eyes glint dangerously as he considers all he would like to do to the giant menace.