Alberto Del Rio closes his eyes and shakes his head desperately, opening his eyes to stare at a calendar once more after a few moments. March 18th. Six months ago to the day, he had finally faced himself and admitted his feelings to the ring announcer currently sleeping on the bed behind him. It's well after midnight by now, the anniversary of that day officially past, but their failed plans matter little to him right now. Hours earlier, Ricardo had been caught in Jack Swagger's ankle lock, the brutal man twisting and tearing until his ankle had snapped, Ricardo's screams and pleads filling the arena for long, horrible minutes after that. Remains with Alberto even now.

To their credit the ER had worked quickly and actually succeeded at getting him x-rayed, leg set and in a plaster cast, released within two hours, but Alberto had known upon realizing what had happened immediately following the attack that there would be no celebrating tonight, easing him into bed as soon as they'd arrived back at the hotel room, frowning at the tears still drying on Ricardo's pale face. But he doesn't mind, knowing that rest is what the man really needs right now, so he continues to stare out at the stars and think quietly about everything.

He's not sure how long he's been standing there when there's a muffled, near-whimper sound behind him and he turns slowly, surprised to find dark, pain-filled eyes peering back at him. His lips twitch into a sad smile as he approaches the bed, leaning carefully against it. "Hey," he greets Ricardo as he blinks up at him in sleepy confusion. "Go back to sleep, hm? Everything's ok..." He expects the younger man to do just that, give in to his visible need for rest, but Ricardo simply stares at him, lips held in a thin line. "What is it?"

Sniffing slightly, the ring announcer struggles to sit up and finally makes it, peering down at the edge of the bed. His face falls further and he flops back against the pillows, covering his face with his hands. "I'd hoped it was a nightmare," he admits, voice muffled. "But it's not."

Alberto's heart sinks and he grips the younger man's hands, gently prying them away until he can see his eyes. "No, I wish it was too. I'm so sorry, Ricardo. So sorry..."

"Why?" he asks faintly. "It's not your fault, they attacked... attacked you too. If I could've helped more effectively-"

"No, no, don't- don't say that. You did the best you could." Alberto sinks down next to him and pulls him closer, running his fingers through his soft hair. He takes a deep breath, listening as Ricardo's breaths hitch every few moments. Knowing that the younger man won't be able to go back to sleep while so upset and in pain, he eases him back against the pillows as an idea comes to him, cupping his face and peering into his eyes. "I'll be back in a few moments, alright? Just relax." Kissing him softly, he adjusts the sheets around the younger man and grabs his phone, wallet and keycard from the table before heading for the door.

Ricardo sits up once more when he realizes his employer is leaving the room, mouth dry as a wave of fresh horror overwhelms him, leaves him feeling even more ill. "El Patron-"

Alberto turns at the door to stare at him, realizing why he's looking at him like that. "It's alright, Ricardo, I won't be gone long. Everything will be fine."

"But Swagger-"

"Won't touch me," he insists softly, abandoning the door and returning to the bed to sooth his beyond stressed out ring announcer. "Lay back. Come now." Pressing him back gently, he smiles sadly as finally Ricardo eases back against the pillows and stares up at him uncertainly. "There you go." He pats his jaw and smiles. "I'll be fine, Ricardo. Those cowards are probably long gone anyway. I'm not looking for any trouble, I swear to you."

Ricardo finally seems to believe his words, nodding slightly. "Alright, El Patron." He's almost at the door for a second time when the ring announcer speaks up again. "Be careful."

Alberto sighs, his heart warming at the quietly spoken words. "Si, I will," he insists before clicking the door shut behind him.

When he returns, Ricardo is still awake, watching the door anxiously. Barely ten minutes have passed and he looks surprised when Alberto walks into the room, laying bags down on the desk. "You're back," he breathes out, some tension draining from his shoulders. "What are in those?"

"You'll find out," he hums, returning to the bed and cupping Ricardo's face, softly kissing him again to make up for how badly he'd worried the man earlier. When Ricardo begins to pout against his lips at not being told, Alberto smiles and pulls back. "Alright, I suppose I should get your imput on something."

Ricardo blinks. "Alright..."

"Would you be alright if I moved you from this bed, or do you want to stay where you're at?"

He looks more confused than earlier. "What is this about, El Patron?"

"You'll see. Just tell me, do you want to stay in bed? Either way is ok, I just want to know how you honestly feel."

Ricardo shakes his head. "If you help me, I can hobble somewhere, as long as I keep off of my ankle and it's not too far away..."

Alberto's smile grows a bit mischevious. "Not entirely what I was going for." When Ricardo still looks uncertain, Alberto leans over and scoops him out of bed with no warning, grinning when the ring announcer gasps and wraps his arms around his neck, eyes wide.

"El Patron!" he chokes out, clinging to him. "Your- your knee-"

"Is fine. Don't worry. I won't drop you."

"That's not what I'm worried about- what if you hurt yourself-?!"

"I won't." He subtly adjusts his hold on the ring announcer and wanders over to the balcony of their room, Ricardo surprised to find a blanket covering the floor in front of the doors, where they have a decent view outside.

"What is this?" he breathes out as Alberto gently kneels down and settles him against the soft fabric, careful that his leg rests safely against the floor before turning back to smile at him.

"I figured if you couldn't sleep, we might as well get something out of tonight," he whispers quietly, touseling his hair. Stepping back to the bed, he collects a pillow and returns to Ricardo's side, gently lifting his casted leg and resting it on the pillow. "Alright?"

Ricardo nods grimly, it all clicking together as his eyes fall. "Lo siento, all of our plans-"

"Can be rescheduled for when you're feeling better," Alberto whispers, shifting until he's sitting behind the ring announcer and wrapping his arms around him, leaning him back against his chest. "There's a nice view of the stars from here."

Ricardo turns to look out the balcony windows and nods quietly, feeling better than he has in awhile encircled in the comfort of his employer's warm and safe arms. "Si, there is."

They watch for awhile before Alberto shifts, nuzzling against his neck. "Now I know you're aware I kept your gifts in Florida so I could give them to you tomorrow once we flew home and not have TSA do who knows what with them..."

"Mm hmm," he murmurs, lulled by the feel of his employer's touch and the simplicity of the stars twinkling outside. Finally the words register with him and he looks over his shoulder at Alberto. "What did you do?" he asks, lips twitching up into a hesitant smile.

"Most worthwhile places are closed at this hour, as you know, so I couldn't find much but..." He snags the bag from where he'd laid it by the bed before moving Ricardo, and drags it over to them.

The look on Ricardo's face as he pulls out two bottles makes it all worth it. "You- you bought me milk?" he demands, lips twitching into a larger, more sincere smile.

"Si," Alberto nods. It was originally to be champagne, in a fancy restaurant that he'd reserved especially for them tonight, but he thinks he likes this almost as well, the only sticking point being the tightness of pain around the younger man's eyes and the cast on his leg, much less the horribly fresh memories at the forefront in both men's minds.

Even so, he smiles as Ricardo takes one from him and sips from it carefully. Alberto had suggested he eat something after getting out of the ER, but the poor ring announcer was still queasy from pain, each movement making him whimper and bite his knuckle to keep from screaming again, so Del Rio hadn't pushed it. He feels moderately better seeing the younger man getting even that small bit of nourishment down.

"Gracias, El Patron," he whispers after a few moments, eyes lost once more in the stars.

Alberto sighs, running soft circles along Ricardo's chest with gentle fingers. "De nada." They're still sitting there, each's presence easing the other's torment little by little, when Alberto presses a faint kiss to Ricardo's temple. "I have a question for you. Two actually," he corrects himself.

"Oh. Que?" Ricardo shifts his own hand up and interlaces it with Alberto's, squeezing softly.

"When you're in less pain... may I be the first to sign your cast?" He almost hates asking this, not wanting to remind the poor ring announcer about the horrors of hours past, but he knows that completely ignoring it for the next few weeks will be impossible, and this question seems like a good way to ease it into what their reality will be for awhile.

Ricardo does stiffen, his eyes closed, but finally he lifts Del Rio's hand and kisses it slowly, laying it back down against his chest after a few moments. "Si, of course." Alberto smiles sadly, allowing the silence to continue as they stare outside, drawn in by the peaceful night sky once more. "Your second question, El Patron?"

Alberto shrugs slightly and lifts his mostly untouched milk bottle, holding it so Ricardo can also see it. "Is milk still an aphrodisiac?"

The ring announcer freezes, remembering ages ago when he'd said as much to his employer. "Ay dios mio," he mumbles. The laughter that follows these words eases Alberto's sadness as he holds Ricardo closer to him, laughing alongside him.

"Happy six month anniversary," he whispers once they calm down, Ricardo squeezing his hand in response. "I love you so much."

"Happy anniversary," Ricardo echoes, his eyes lighting up. Despite it technically not being their day anymore, and the sharp pains stabbing up his leg if he moves even the slightest, it's still the sweetest thing he'd ever heard. "I love you more."

"I don't think that's possible."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"Si?"

"Si."

"Hm." Alberto grins fondly before tilting his head against Ricardo's. The evening might not have gone the way either of them had planned or wanted but this, right now, with them together watching the stars, just feels right.