Ricardo Rodriguez stands outside of the large ranch that comprises Alberto Del Rio's main place of residence, frowning slightly. He hasn't felt right since he was summoned here, a plane ticket held for him in Florida and a driver waiting for him here in Mexico. He hasn't been back here in a few months, since Alberto's recovery from the groin injury that kept him from Wrestlemania had ended. Steeling himself, he walks up to the door and, pausing only to wipe his hands on his slacks, reaches out to ring the doorbell.

Shortly after it finishes echoing through the house, the familiar sounds of Sofia's high heels clicking towards the door comes closer and closer. He smiles at her as she opens the door. "Buenos Dias, Senor Rodriguez," she greets him softly, stepping aside so he can enter.

"Buenos Dias, but please, Sofia," he tells the woman, "call me Ricardo." They have this conversation every time they see each other but the maid still prefers to call him by his surname, despite his insistence that they are basically on the same level job-wise. He handles many of the things for Alberto in Florida that she handles here, so it makes no sense to him that they should be so formal around each other.

"Of course, Se- Ricardo," she says, flushing slightly. "Senor Del Rio is waiting for you in the living room."

He hesitates while she collects his bag and walks off with it, that strange feeling still with him. I do not like this, he thinks grimly. Not at all. Sighing, he wanders down the halls of the massive ranch, holding his breath as he enters the living room to find Alberto leaning against the mantel, staring out at his impressively sized lawn. "El Patron?"

Alberto noticeably tenses up, adding to Ricardo's discomfort, turning sharply to look at the younger man. "Ah," he says quietly, walking towards him. "There you are. Travels go well?"

"Si, gracias," he whispers, examining the older man. There is a tightness around his eyes, a distinct displeasure in his gaze, that eats at Ricardo as he's motioned to sit on the pristine couch across from him. As he complies, Alberto joins him, his hands held loosely at his sides as they sit in silence, Ricardo visibly waiting for the other shoe to drop. What did I do wrong? he thinks helplessly, almost scared to look over and lock eyes with him.

"I have come to a decision," Alberto finally says after a few minutes of painfully awkward silence, only broken up by birds chirping outside and the soft sound of Sofia wandering around the house. When Ricardo says nothing, Del Rio takes a deep breath. "I am done with the WWE, it is not worthwhile for me to remain there anymore. I have put in my resignation with the company and I am thus returning to Mexico on a permanent basis. My real estate and everything I own in Florida will be sold."

Ricardo's mouth goes dry but he nods. That isn't all. Just say it, I can see it in your eyes, he thinks tiredly, bracing himself. "El Patron..."

"As a result," he continues on, ignoring the younger man's stalled attempt at speech. "I sadly do not need your services any longer, Ricardo." He stares at him, an uncomfortable grimace on his face. "Since I am the one reneging, I will monetarily fulfill the next two months of your contract, and we can negotiate more if you wish, due to the suddenness of it all."

He shakes his head in disbelief, lips parting slightly before he realizes that Alberto is waiting for him to speak. "Wha... I..."

"I understand that this is sudden, Ricardo, but I cannot continue on with WWE while I am feeling like this. It would be unfair to you to keep you under my employment and uproot your life in Florida while I remain here." He sighs, leaning forward. "If you require any assistance in the following months, please let me know. After your loyalty from the past couple of years, I will do all I can to ensure you do not remain unemployed for long."

"Of course," he says blankly, wondering if his voice sounds as numb as he feels. He blinks, surprised to find he's somehow made it to his feet despite his legs feeling like jelly. "I should go."

"What?" Alberto asks, looking surprised. "Ricardo- you can stay here tonight, there is no hurry for you to leave," he refutes. "I believe Sofia has already prepared the guest room for you. We would love to-"

The last meal, he realizes with a sinking feeling in his stomach. I can't do this. He feels nauseous and close to fainting all at once, his blood rushing in his ears, and he just wants Alberto to stop staring at him like everything will be ok after a meal and a rest in the ridiculously comfortable bed that he had started to feel was his after the long tenure he'd spent as Alberto's personal ring announcer. "Thank her for me but I have to go," he chokes out, quickly dashing out of the room and leaving a stupefied Del Rio behind.

He's just made it to the car when the front door of the ranch slams open, Alberto staring at him in shock from the porch. His hands trembling against the doorhandle, he drops into the car and pulls the door shut, still feeling his former boss' gaze heavy across his back. Taking a deep breath, he stabs the keys into the ignition and backs up quickly, barely able to see the road through his swimming eyes. Turning to the left, he drives up the driveway, the tires struggling to gain traction while scattering gravel here and there as he ignores everything behind him in his hurry to get away, try to ignore this sharp pain in his chest. Now what do I do?

The grounds are so spacious he could drive out of view of the ranch for hours and never really leave, taking in the fruit of Alberto's fortune first hand himself. Who can blame him for not wanting to leave this place again? he thinks, angrily wiping at his eyes. I've only been here a few times and even I have difficulties returning to Florida... His shoulders trembling, he finally accepts that driving in this condition is a bad idea and stops, resting his head against the steering wheel. He's parked in a thicket of trees on the southeast corner of the estate, the sun beating down through the branches relentlessly upon his car as it sets.

He only plans on staying there a little while to collect himself before finally leaving Alberto's grounds but stress and exhaustion from the trip eats away at him until finally he dozes off, head still pressed against the wheel.

"Senor Del Rio," Sofia runs in the next afternoon, looking distressed.

"What is it, Sofia?" he asks distractedly, fingers running across the screen of his phone. He had spent the evening and morning calling Ricardo repeatedly, desperate to find out that the younger man is alright after how abruptly he had left the ranch. There had been no answer, no text, nothing. It is not like Ricardo to ignore me, no matter what I've done, he sighs, disliking the whole situation. Adding to his worry, the airline had just finished telling him that the first class ticket he had left for Ricardo to return to Florida on had not been picked up, the younger man not seen at all for that flight or any others leaving to Florida since the night before. "Where are you, Ricardo?"

"Senor!" the maid snaps, her eyes widening as she realizes how she's talking to her employer. "Lo Siento," she stammers hurriedly. "But please, listen to me. It is about Senor Rodriguez." His attention immediately locks on her, adding to her discomfort. "Manuel has found a car on the grounds. Senor Del Rio, it matches the car you left for Senor Rodriguez to drive."

"Has he approached it?" he demands, standing up so hurriedly that he knocks the chair he'd been settled in to the floor with a loud crash.

"N-no, he was about to notify the police, thinking it was an intruder, but he came to notify me first. Senor Del Rio, I think something is wrong," she says, her hands trembling against her plain black skirt. "Senor Rodriguez..."

"I know," he snaps, feeling it too. "Come, Sofia. I may need your assistance." As they walk hurriedly through the ranch, he looks down at her. "Where is he?"

"Southeastern corner of the grounds," she says, following him outside into the excessive heat that had been beating down upon most of Mexico for weeks. Her worry grows as she considers the kind, thoughtful Ricardo out in this weather with nothing to protect him from the heat being compounded by the dark metal of his car. She has never seen Alberto move so fast, not even in the wrestling ring, and it's a struggle to keep up with him, but she somehow manages, her worry for Ricardo overwhelming her own consideration about the state of her feet.

The car is easy to spot amongst the trees, glowing a bright red in the strong sunlight, and Alberto curses, by the driver's door within moments. "Ricardo!" he yells out, knocking roughly on the driver's side window as he peers in worriedly. It takes her a moment to catch up enough to see inside of the car as well but when she does, the breath is drawn roughly from her lungs. "Ricardo," Alberto shakes his head, not even caring about the state of the car as he pulls roughly on the handle. It opens easily and he sighs, struggling between relief that it hadn't been locked and annoyance that Ricardo hadn't thought more of his safety. Everything about the car radiates heat, the Mexican aristocrat wincing away as his arm brushes the seatbelt stretched snugly around Ricardo's form, giving only enough for him to rest against the steering wheel. "Ay," he complains, undoing the belt and trying to pull it away from his former ring announcer without really touching it.

"Is he-?" Sofia asks, her hands wringing nervously.

"I'm not sure." He leans in and rests a hand on the side of Ricardo's face, wincing at the heat that greets him there. "Ay, Ricardo, what were you thinking?" He straightens up and bites his lips, looking at Sofia. "Help me get him out of the car, it isn't helping things any." As she hovers nearby, he leans back in and, pushing him off of the steering wheel, settles him sideways against the driver's seat before pulling Ricardo's legs out until they're resting on the ground. "Sofia, I need you to go to the other side," he tells her with a frown. "Support his head so I don't slam it against the car while trying to get him out."

She nods and quickly moves to position, eyes wide and hands trembling as Alberto grips Ricardo by the shoulders, the two of them working together to not hurt him further while Del Rio bodily lifts him out, quickly laying him down upon the ground. "It is ok, Ricardo," he murmurs, unsettled by the younger man's continuing lack of response. "I have you. What were you thinking, sleeping in the car in this horrible heat? Hmm?"

He watches closely, listening with a sinking feeling deep within, as Ricardo's breathing continues, raspy and faint deep in his chest. His hands are pale and clammy, lips dry and cracked. Alberto looks up at her and shakes her head. "Get the driver, we need to go to the hospital. Right away."

Sofia nods, mumbling in soft, frenzied Spanish. "Si, si."

She's off as quickly as she can run and he watches for a moment, wonders what he'd do without her, his eyes quickly turning back to Ricardo. "What would I do without either of you," he corrects his thought, carefully shifting Ricardo's face so he can examine him better. His skin is dry to the touch, bright red and almost blistering where the steering wheel had touched it. "Ah, Ricardo, why?" He recalls the evening before, the haunted look on Ricardo's face while Alberto fired him, deeply lost and broken when he had left as quickly as he'd arrived. "Is that why...?"

Before he can say anything, both Sofia and Manuel arrive, the maid's desperation bleeding off of her as she drops to her knees closer to Ricardo, peering up at Alberto. "He has not woken yet?" she asks sadly, her cool fingers pressing against Ricardo's jaw.

Alberto shakes his head, looking over at Manuel as she tsks softly over the young man. "Is the car ready?"

"Si, Senor. Do you need help getting him to it?"

Alberto looks from Ricardo to Manuel over to the car, waiting only at the edge of the thicket, running patiently. "No," he refuses. "I can..." Ignoring various aches and pains from his many years as a wrestler, he calls upon all of his cardio and scoops his arms underneath Ricardo, awkwardly lifting him up off of the ground. "See... you will be fine," he tells him, adjusting his hold once he's standing on his feet. "Everything will be fine."

Sofia looks even more anxious as she takes the passenger seat in the front, Manuel driving so that the back seat is left for, of course, Ricardo and Alberto, who keeps a close eye on the still unconscious man through the trip from where Alberto's ranch is in the outskirts of the city, his need for space and a lack of interest in having neighbors close making that the ideal spot for him to live. He strokes his fingers across Ricardo's reddened skin and shakes his head, grimacing. "Why didn't you stay?" he asks softly, his hands lulling along the top of his head. "We could have discussed it further, I never... I never realized you would've been this against my terminating the contract. I know I am far from the easiest man to work for, and I know how badly parts of the last two years have been for you."

Feeling eyes on him, he looks up to find Sofia watching him with a small, sad smile. "He is against it because, in the end, you are a fair employer."

"Not always," he mumbles, remembering all of the times in the past he had thrown Ricardo to the wolves of the WWE for his own wellbeing.

She purses her lips, tilting her head. "Senor Rodriguez knew what helping you in the WWE would mean, he did not shy away from that. It was his decision to remain loyal to you."

"And I repay that loyalty by firing him," he sighs through his nose. "It will be a wonder if he ever wants to talk to me again, Sofia."

Her eyes are dark and motherly as she leans her cheek against the back of the seat, sighing softly at him. "Through it all," she tells him confidently, "he never stopped considering you his best friend. This is probably why last night was so painful for him, but it will not stop him from thinking such of you. I promise."

"Senorita Sofia," Manuel hesitantly interrupts their conversation, "Senor Del Rio, we are nearly at the hospital."

They look up to find themselves just down the street from the large building, immediately overwhelmed by relief. "Hear that, Ricardo? We'll get you looked at very soon," Del Rio murmurs to the younger man, pulling him closer. There's a lull as Manuel pulls the car close to the building, immediately getting out and running to get some assistance. It seems to take a lifetime to both Sofia and Alberto as they wait, watching Ricardo closely, until nurses and Manuel return. Between all of them, they get Ricardo safely out of the car and into the much cooler building, where he is put onto a hospital bed. The room is full within minutes of nurses and a doctor, checking vitals and body temperatures.

The staff is well aware of Alberto Del Rio and it shows as they work quickly and effeciently, short commands in clipped Spanish echoing around Del Rio and Sofia as they wait by the door, refusing to leave. Manuel has left to park the car somewhere safer, returning in time to hear the doctor talking lowly to Alberto about their initial findings. He's not sure what is being said but both Sofia and Alberto look troubled, listening intently to the other man's soft words. When he leaves, Alberto stares at the wall with a dark grimace.

"At least," Sofia speaks up quietly, resting a hand on his upper arm, "we arrived here in time and he will be fine." Even she sounds doubtful of the words, the doctor's warnings still fresh in all of their minds. This could go badly fast but they'll do all they can for him in the meantime.

Alberto nods, that look on his face still not leaving. "I suppose." Without another word, he walks into the room and sits down next to Ricardo's still unresponsive form, leaving his staff to look awkwardly at each other. "Heat stroke," he murmurs. "And severe dehydration. If Manuel hadn't found you..." Unable and unwilling to finish the thought, he trails off and just listens as the machines work for Ricardo, helping his body to function while liquids are poured into him intravaneously. He's not sure when he drifts off but, sometime later, soft fingers are rubbing comforting circles along his neck, drawing him back to consciousness. "Eh," he sighs, blinking his eyes open and looking around. Sofia is leaning behind him, a small smile on her lips as she takes in her employer's sleepy expression. "Ricardo!" he gasps, remembering enough to turn and face the hospital bed. When he sees that his ring announcer's condition hasn't changed, he sinks back against the chair, frowning.

Sofia, however, looks relieved as she points to something. "Senor Del Rio, they have already removed some of the machines assisting his vital organs," she tells him. "He is slowly recovering. They say it will just take time."

He blinks, even more confused now as he realizes that it is nearly dark in the room. When he had dozed off, it had barely been afternoon yet "How long was I out?"

"A few hours," she hedges quietly. "You did not sleep well last night." It's not a question, nor a judgment. Simply an observation and they both know it. Terminating Ricardo's contract had truly been one of the hardest things Alberto had ever decided to do.

He hums in a distracted fashion, frowning at the machines still keeping track of Ricardo's vitals. "His breathing seems better," he finally whispers, resting a hand on Ricardo's chest and feeling as he inhales and exhales.

"Yes. They say he is regaining his strength bit by bit. The IVs are helping."

"That is good. Any word on when he may awake?" He looks up as she hesitates, her frown lines growing more prominent. "What is it?"

She fumbles with the hemline of her white blouse, a common nervous reaction for her, and his worry grows. "Doctor says..." She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes tightly, before trying again. "Doctor says he should've woke up before now. His vitals are stablizing, his breathing and heart rate are stronger, they see no reason why...but he remains like that," she concludes helplessly.

He stares down at Ricardo with a fretful look in his dark eyes. "But... Ricardo, please..." He abandons his chair and rests on the bed, his hip against the younger man's side. "Open your eyes. Come on, wake up." He looks so pale- as if there's nothing lurking beneath those closed eyelids, though he can somehow feel that Ricardo is still in there somewhere- Alberto can't stand it, feeling horrible as the silence stretches on and on.

When he stands up, aggravatedly kicking the chair out of his way, Sofia jerks away from the resulting noise as it crashes into the wall, a hand resting on Ricardo's arm. "Senor-" she chokes out, shaking her head.

He glares at her, turning his dark gaze back to his ring announcer. "This," he mumbles thickly, "this is all my fault."

She looks so sad as she stands hesitantly, it only makes him feel worse. "How do you figure, Senor?"

"I should have considered. I worked him to the breaking point over the past two years, taking advantage of his willingness to do anything to help my so called destiny," he grumbles, spitting out the final word as if it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. "He was injured so many times while attempting to assist me and I barely cared, doing little more than paying his hospital bills... I don't believe I visited him once when he was in the hospital after crashing through that table at TLC."

"You had your own injuries to deal with then, Senor," she chides softly, barely blinking when he looks back up at her, her words not seeming to register.

"And now, I terminate his contract as if it all means nothing... as if his dedication wasn't worth a second thought. I do not regret leaving WWE, far from it, but... yet again here I am throwing him to the wolves when he has no idea what to expect, nor really what he should do from here."

Sofia's eyes well up as she takes in her employer's pain and guilt, releasing a troubled breath. "He will get well, Senor. Things will work out." She blinks the moisture away, well aware that she needs to be strong for both men before her. Any weakness cannot be shown right now. Later, she tells herself firmly.

"I hope so," he murmurs, trailing a hand gently up Ricardo's arm, careful to avoid the IVs looping around his skin. "Ricardo," he says after a few minutes, "I cannot fix this until you wake up. You know first hand that I am far from patient." Nothing changes and his eyes fall, soft Spanish falling from his lips that even Sofia cannot catch from where she's sitting. She doesn't try, certain that the words are for Ricardo's ears only.

Hours pass, the repetitive beeping of the heart monitor keeping track of Ricardo's vitals grating nonstop across Alberto's senses, when Sofia quietly leaves, the soft click of the hospital door causing Alberto to stir ever so slightly from the doze he'd fallen into, his forehead resting against the side of Ricardo's bed. He sits up dazedly when something brushes against his hair, knocking it back onto the bedding. He blinks a few times before finally realizing- Ricardo's eyes are open and staring right at him, the younger man looking exhausted and sad all at once. It tears at Alberto's heart to see his friend looking so forlorn and weak.

"Ricardo," he says softly, leaning forward to rest a hand on Ricardo's hair. "You're awake. Is that why Sofia left?" He looks around the room with a frown before turning his focus back on the younger man. "Do not scare me like that again," he chides with a small smile. It quickly fades as Ricardo only stares at him, his wide eyed gaze growing more and more confused and depressed as time ticks by. "Amigo, what's wrong?"

"Why-..." He coughs, waving Alberto off as he grabs a glass of water from the table, turning away enough to finish his thought. "Why are you here?"

Alberto looks almost wounded as he stares down at the struggling man. "What do you mean?"

Ricardo takes a deep breath, his eyes slipping closed for a moment before he re-opens them, frowning. "I mean, why are you here? I do not work for you anymore." His hands clench into fists as he looks away, overcome by both his weakness and the emotions just saying these words cause. "Why do you care?"

Alberto forgoes the water, quickly returning to Ricardo's side. "I will always care," he asserts, trying to catch Ricardo's eye. "Ricardo... I always have, no matter how I may act. Why else would I have wrestled Santino? If you meant nothing to me, would I have wasted my time on that perro? No, I did it for you, mi amigo."

"Pride," he whispers bitterly. "I was your ring announcer, any slight towards me could be seen as a slight towards you and you couldn't have that. So of course you would wrestle Santino and get some vengeance, if only for your own appearance's sake." He looks so pale, underneath the burns across his face from the steering wheel, that Alberto can barely focus on his words, or figure out a way to refute them.

"That wasn't the reason," he finally says, for once in his life totally floored and uncertain where to go with Ricardo's claims. "You've spent the last two years of your life doing everything I've asked of you. I've been far from the employer that you deserve, and I definitely proved that yesterday. But, Ricardo, I want to begin fixing this." Finally, Ricardo looks up and they stare at each other, Alberto drowning in the numerous, conflicted emotions in his friend's eyes. "Please, at least give me the chance to try," he whispers, holding his hand out to the other man hesitantly.

Ricardo looks down at his outstretched fingers, swallowing deeply. "I..."

"Trust me, Ricardo," Alberto pleads, realizing that he's about to lose his chance. "I won't fail you. Not again."

Ricardo looks so young, so desperate to believe in this moment, that Alberto wonders how he or anyone else could ever do anything to willingly put this shattered look on his overly expressive face. He reluctantly reaches up, fingers only a few inches away from Alberto's, when he pauses. "How... how would we make this work? I reside in Florida, and you in Mexico..."

"I'm not sure," the Mexican aristocrat hedges, fingers almost itching for Ricardo just to move his hand enough to cinch the deal still up in there between them. "We will figure it out somehow, though. Please, hermano, trust me?"

No matter how hurt, ill, or disillusioned he is, Ricardo can't stop himself from believing Alberto's words, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his eyes that had made him easily agree to move to Florida in the first place to be Alberto's personal ring announcer years back. "Si, of course..." he whispers faintly, finally taking hold of Alberto's hand and squeezing slightly. Alberto's expression changes overwhelmingly fast, a brilliant smile taking his face over as he carefully grasps the younger man's hand, seeming almost reluctant to let it go. "... El Patron."

As they lean closer, quietly discussing terms of their new working agreement, Sofia leans against the doorway and listens with a small smile on her face, relieved that things will remain status quo. As it should be.

"Were they good tenants, Ricardo?"

"Si, El Patron," the now-29 year old says quietly, peering over the lawn of the fancy house that Alberto Del Rio had lived in during his tenure in the WWE. "No major complaints, they kept the home up nicely and cleaned out thoroughly before they left. I double checked with their previous landlords before I even considered letting them in here, and dropped in every month or so just to make sure."

"Of course you did," his employer chuckles, patting him on the shoulder before he continues on his way to look at the actual house. "Sofia."

"Si, Senor," she calls from inside the foyer.

"Stop unpacking for a moment and come out here, it has been much too long since you've seen Ricardo." With his time in the WWE long gone, he had changed his mind on just selling the Florida home. Much time had gone into picking it out and furnishing it to his liking, so after Ricardo's heatstroke and dehydration scare, he had ultimately settled for this solution: to keep the Florida home and let Ricardo maintain it, letting tenants looking for a summer home near a Florida beach rent it, which would leave it open for Alberto to use whenever he would wish in the winter months. Considering it's not a strain economically for him, he finds it's worth it... especially as Sofia comes out of the house and both her and Ricardo's faces light up at seeing each other, the maternal woman quickly hugging him before she begins running through a list of questions regarding Ricardo's health and FCW and everything else going on in his life.

The former ring announcer smiles as he patiently answers her questions, his eyes gleaming in the October sun. When he feels Alberto's gaze on them, he looks up and grins, sharing Alberto's amusement. "You just saw me two months ago, Sofia," he reminds her quietly, reflecting on the week he had spent in August with them, taking full advantage of the large grounds and quiet surroundings to recharge his batteries during FCW's downtime.

"A lot can happen in that time," she exclaims, patting his cheek gently. "Tell me everything, por favor." As she drags Ricardo towards the house to catch up, Alberto trails after them, smiling as Ricardo grows more animated in telling her about the various FCW rookies he's helping to train for their time in WWE.

For awhile, that decision years back could've gone either way, he thinks, stuffing his hands in his slacks pockets. I'm so glad this was the end result.