A/N: I started this fic maybe a week, ten days before the actual face turn happened. Read speculation on a message board and this was born. After TLC, I decided to just continue it. So this is what came of it, haha.
Ricardo Rodriguez' memories are somewhat spotty of his time as Alberto Del Rio's ring announcer. He'd taken his fair share of abuse to protect or help his employer, RKOs, Brogue Kicks, punches, kicks, falls off of ladders, other embarrassing attacks that had, over time, left him feeling like he'd been on the shelf more than off. He had always been rewarded handsomely monetarily, Del Rio never hesitating to pay him well and- despite his volatile temper- making it known that Ricardo was one of the few in the business he'd considered a friend. In spite of all of the bad parts of his job, he'd never trade it for anything, finding himself fulfilled whenever Alberto had seemed happy or even threw a compliment at him, no matter how off-handed they may be.
These thoughts in the forefront of his mind, he's watching with trepidation as Del Rio is thrown in against Big Show, the giant curling his large fingers into a fist as he approaches Alberto menacingly. The Mexican aristocrat, keeping a keen eye on his opponent, moves aside and snarls up at him, raising an eyebrow as his opponent grows bored of the game and lunges at him, trying to land a body blow.
The action then becomes fast and furious as the long time enemies go at it, hitting and punching, kicking and trying to all around hurt each other. Ricardo's fear grows with each move and finally he can't take it any longer, realizing that yes, Del Rio is in the perfect position for a KO punch. He leaps onto the top rope and starts calling out to Big Show, taunting him in both English and Spanish to attempt to distract him. Unfortunately, he's forgotten that, despite the bigger man's slower speed, he makes up for it in reach and strength and finds himself being lifted back up onto the apron after dropping down to the floor only a second before, the giant's large fist wrapped around his skull like it's a baseball.
He struggles and tries to get away but there's no way, Big Show so much larger, so much stronger than he is. Despite his best attempts, a faint whimper comes from his lips and he finally gives up, standing deathly still as he waits for the KO punch to send him into deep, merciless unconsciousness. Just do it already, just do it- just ...
It doesn't come. The larger man's grip on him fails and he loses his precarious balance on the apron, just managing to land on his feet on the floor below. Confused, he turns around in time to see a struggling Del Rio, his own attempt at offense thwarted, now held by a furious Big Show, his eyes widening as the World Champion strikes out, landing the harsh blow that had been meant for Ricardo on Alberto, the Mexican aristocrat immediately staggering before falling to the mat below. Shaking his fist out ruthlessly, the giant sneers down at a frantic Ricardo before simply leaving the ring, knowing that anything else would be pointless. Ricardo rolls inside before he's barely taken a step away, desperately grabbing at Alberto's limp form. "El Patron, El Patron! What...?"
He's all but unresponsive, adding to Ricardo's terror. "Why, why did you do that?" he mumbles on, almost sagging in relief when the trainer rushes over and begins examining the Mexican aristocrat. Stumbling away to give them room, Ricardo shakes his head back and forth in confusion. "Why..."
It's his job to take attacks, shield his employer from further harm, not Del Rio's. This is wrong, it's not supposed to happen like this. His lips dry, he again mouths why as the trainer flashes a light in Alberto's eyes, such a cruel reminder of months back when Sheamus had attacked and Brogue Kicked Ricardo down. He stares and he frets, wondering. He'd watched the footage of that night, seen the look on his employer's face, and how he'd reacted later on outside of the trainer's office, the speechless shock drowning him. He wonders if Alberto had felt at all like he does right now, helpless and terrified. Thinks he must've, because the man had slowly, steadily changed since that night, treated him differently.
He can't stay away any longer, and he inches into the ring of staff placing a neck collar on his poor employer, preparing to move him. Ricardo drops to his knees next to the downed man and rests a hand on his upper arm. "It's ok, El Patron. I'm here," he mumbles softly, stroking the warm skin beneath his fingers. "You're going to be ok."
He receives no answer and tears of horror and shame fill his eyes as he helplessly follows them up the ramp, "Please be ok..."
Thankfully his silent wish is granted as Del Rio wakes up before they're even half-way to the trainer's office, Ricardo almost jumping out of his skin when fingers curl around his and squeezes slightly. "Ricardo," he breathes out, eyes only open a sliver as the two of them peer at each other.
"El Patron!" He closes his eyes in relief and finds his fingers combing through Alberto's dark hair gingerly. "Are you... I mean... what..." Unable to figure out what exactly he wants to say, finally he settles for the first thought in his head. "Why?"
He blinks a few times, looking too cloudy to think up a proper response. Or to understand the question in the first place. "Why what?"
"Why did you do that?" His voice is trembling and he knows he's close to tears. "Save me from Big Show? I... I don't understand."
Alberto stares up at him, his energy visibly wavering. "What's so hard to understand, Ricardo? You've saved me how many times? I think... it's time I began repaying the favor."
"But... but why?" he persists. "It never seemed to matter in the past..."
"It did," he mumbles, eyes closing. "I just didn't know how to show it." As he drifts off into some much needed rest, Ricardo sighs heavily and watches, wondering what exactly had changed to cause him to decide that.
He remains by his side quietly as the trainer examines Alberto, running a light over his eyes, his fingers across his skull. Amazingly enough, he had avoided another concussion and Ricardo whispers a soft thank you before turning his attention back in time to see Del Rio's eyes flutter in discomfort. "El Patron?" he murmurs, leaning closer. "Are you awake?"
No answer comes and he worries all the more until Del Rio's fingers tighten around his, causing him to almost jump out of his skin as he waits for something, anything to happen. The Mexican aristocrat groans slightly and Ricardo releases a soft breath, squeezing his fingers back. "Ri- Ricardo..."
"I'm here, El Patron. It's going to be ok." He wonders how many times they've been on the opposite side of this equation, when he'd been the one lying on the cot with Alberto hovering nearby, telling him over and over again that things will be ok. He knows it'd seem odd to almost anyone but he much prefers that one to this, not used to seeing the Mexican aristocrat vulnerable. Needing Ricardo's help.
Del Rio lifts a hand and Ricardo acts automatically, gripping it gently and pressing it to his chest. There are so many things he wants to ask- why? what made you do that? How could you do that?- but he refrains, knowing that it's not the time. Alberto can barely keep his eyes open for a minute and forcing him to answer questions now just seems beyond mean. "You're alright?" he finally finds the energy to ask, eyes open only a little as Ricardo gapes down at him, shocked.
"Thanks to you," he finally breathes out, leaning closer. "Do you remember what happened?"
"Big Show," he mumbles, watching as some relief fills Ricardo's expression. "Right?"
"That's right, si." He feels bad that Del Rio has to remember it, but it's better than the alternative. He has enough memory issues for the both of them, Alberto needs all of his faculties in place to be the prime competitor that Ricardo knows him to be.
Alberto's eyes are dark and heavily lidded, Ricardo certain he's going to doze back off, but instead he licks his lips and speaks slowly. "Couldn't let it happen again. Not again, mi amigo."
"What happen, El Patron?" he asks, not understanding the certainty behind the older man's words.
"June 2011," he breathes out. "When Big Show almost..." His voice fades away before he tries again. "... Could've killed you. If Kane hadn't been there then... I couldn't let that happen again."
Ricardo swallows, feeling both warm and bizarre, unable to wrap his head completely around this surreal moment, how to take that sentiment. "El Patron," he whispers.
"I'll do better," he vows. "You... you shouldn't... be repaid with your loyalty by constantly getting hurt while I stand by and reap the benefits." Ricardo's eyes widening even further at this, Alberto sighs. "The fact that my... saying this surprises you so much proves... just how badly I've handled our working relationship... and friendship as well."
"You haven't," Ricardo chokes out, shaking his head. "You- you've been a fine-"
"No." Simple, short. It says it all as they stare at each other, Del Rio uncomfortably aware of everything he'd put Ricardo through the past few years. "I was far from a fine employer, don't try to ease my conscience. There is only one way I can accomplish that, and that is to change." He swallows as Ricardo shakes his head, still far from comprehending. "I will change, Ricardo."
The ring announcer frowns. "But, El Patron, you don't have to..."
"But I want to," he tells him, closing his eyes. "I am tired of feeling this way. Weighed down by hatred and disdain for everything, having nothing but hatred and disdain returned to me for it."
"I don't hate you. I never could."
"You should hate me more than anyone else," he tells him softly. "But because you don't, my eyes have slowly been opened, mi amigo. To all that I have done, continue to do. I don't want to be this person anymore." His words are slowing, slurring. Ricardo rests a hand on his wrist and slowly rubs soothing circles there, smiling faintly as the Mexican aristocrat slowly loses himself to a deep need for rest. "Things will be better now. I promise."
He falls asleep immediately afterwards and Ricardo sighs, his eyes lowered as he eases his hand off of his employer, not wanting to risk waking him up again. "I believe you." It's odd, and it's come out of the blue, and it might be ridiculously naive of him but he is as incapable of doubting his employer's words as he was to ever hate his actions.