Note: I wrote this after MITB. I originally wanted to make it longer, but I ran out of inspiration, so I decided to post it as is. I think it works, right? There might be more in this vein in the future, though.

The show has started. The kickoff match is already in progress on the other side of the curtain. As Nick walks past a bank of monitors on his way to the locker room, he almost misses Cody sitting in a folding chair against the wall, but he spots him at the last second and stops short.

Cody has only minutes until his entrance, so he's in his full ring gear, coat included. If he was this close to his cue, Nick would be hyping himself up, riding a wave of adrenaline and nerves, but Cody just looks tired, already worn out. He's staring at the monitors as if he doesn't even see them.

"Hey," Nick says. "Are you okay?"

Cody does not look okay, especially when he turns his head and Nick sees his dead eyes, tense jaw.

"I'm fine," Cody says regardless, his gruff tone clearly saying Why are you even asking?

Despite the complete lack of an invitation, Nick pulls over another chair and sits. He's always had a bit of a crush on Cody, if you could call it that, and he can't just let this go.

"Seriously, tell me," he insists, as if that would be the natural thing to do.

Cody looks at him. They've never really been friends, so Nick could understand him blowing this whole conversation off. But Cody sighs, scrubs a hand over his face. "I don't think this is going to go well."

He sounds completely convinced in a way that makes Nick nervous. Like it's not just about his storyline, but something else entirely. "Don't worry, man," he tells Cody. "You'll get a push out of this, too. You're golden."

Nick tries to smile, pass it off as gospel, but Cody shakes his head, denies those words so casually. "No, you're golden. You have it all fucking laid out in front of you."

He can't help but snort. He's never heard anyone put his position in the company that way, it's all sorry, man, that sucks and you'll get it next time, for sure and so much hard work and hope only to get turned away again.

"I'm losing again. I always lose." It comes out more bitter and less tongue-in-cheek than he intended. He knows it's more complicated than that, but he's impatient, frustrated. He's gone exactly nowhere since his supposedly triumphant moment this time last year.

Cody shakes his head. "You gotta look at the long term," he says, leaning forward in his chair. "This crowd loves you, but we won't be in the northeast forever. You need to give everyone else a reason to cheer for you."

He knows it, and he knows it, but mostly this start-stop gets him so angry, and it all just sounds so reasonable coming from Cody's mouth, it just makes so much sense right now.

He grins at Cody, probably looking like the complete idiot his babyface character is supposed to be. "You have the best mind for this. It's shit, the way they treat you. Total, fucking shit."

"That's just life," Cody says with a grimace. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Cody leans back against the wall, the passion that had momentarily appeared in his eyes gone again. It hurts, it literally hurts Nick to see it.

"Geez. Say something about it. Complain. Be better, so much better that they have no choice." Nick feels himself rocking forward in his chair, getting aggressive. It hasn't worked out for him, but Cody's better. Cody has a pedigree. Fuck it, Cody's tall.

But Cody just shakes his head. "They always have a choice. You can make Vince millions and he'd still screw you in a heartbeat. I grew up in this business. Believe me, I know."

As Nick tries to let that bit of futility sink into his brain, a production assistant comes by with a five minute warning. Cody stands and Nick has the worst feeling all of a sudden. "But you're okay?" he asks.

"Perfect." Cody is already looking towards the ramp where guys are starting to line up. Sandow hovers a discreet distance away, letting Cody finish his conversation.

"Just don't—" Nick swallows hard. "Jesus, don't hurt yourself or anything."

Cody turns his head back and smiles, and it completely transforms him. He looks like such a young kid, not a hardened veteran. He doesn't answer, just shakes his head and walks over to join his partner. Nick feels the stupidity of what he just said – it's a ladder match after all – but he feels better, too. He forgets whatever he'd been about to do and settles in to watch the match.