It's been awhile since I wrote something and posted it on here, and never for this fandom. I figured I'd give it a shot though; this idea has been floating around in my head for a bit now.
I own nothing (do I really have to say this?)
The kid had improved, there was no denying it. He could remember their first feud together, back in 2009. The loud mouth would strut his way out to the ring every night, decked out in anti-Cena gear, taunting him until he agreed to fight. It went on and on, week after week, until he finally agreed to do it. Their actual fight was a joke; it was over before he could even break a sweat, and he had really thought the guy would be done after that.
Boy was he wrong. Tonight was a completely different story. He couldn't help but be proud of Mike. He watched him go from a friendless, hopeless rookie to the WWE Champion, and there was no denying that the kid deserved it. He worked his ass off, worked harder than anyone else in the company. Hell, The Miz worked almost as hard as himself, but instead of walking out to cheers of fans chanting his name, he walked out to boos and jeers. He understood, of course, having been heel before, but after being the face of the company for so long, John didn't think he could ever take all of the hate that came with being heel again.
He was already having a tough time. The Rock had finally returned to the WWE, and had made a point in ridiculing Cena and turning his fans against him. He got his ass handed to him every week, both from the verbal assault of The Great One and from the vicious attacks from The Miz, set on proving himself after being ignored as the feud between The Rock and himself grew. Mike was angry, and hurt, there was no doubt about it. The WWE Champ had worked his way up from the bottom, taking hit after hit, but he never gave up. He had finally realized his dream, but just when his real time came to prove himself, when his first time headlining Wrestlemania came about, he was left in the shadows. Forgotten and ignored.
But tonight was not about The Rock. It was not about John Cena. It was not about Stone Cold, it wasn't about Jerry Lawler, and it certainly wasn't about the US title. No, tonight was about The Miz. Tonight was his time to shine, and John was ready to give him the fight of his life, and he knew the kid would give him everything he had in return.
They sat backstage, prepping themselves for their fight. He watched Mike with Riley, bouncing back and forth, body vibrating in anticipation as their fight grew nearer. John had always made a point of staying relaxed before a match, taking his time to talk to everyone, to joke around and have a good time until he had to go to gorilla position. Always at ease, this was his world, where he belonged, where he was meant to be, but tonight he couldn't help but glance at the younger champ every so often. His smile stayed plastered on his face, his body language reading that he had not a care in the world, but he knew that tonight had to be perfect.
"Five minutes 'til position," the tired stagehand's reminder shook the former WWE Champion from his thoughts, as he unglued his eyes from Mike and Alex conversing near their locker room. Mike turned to look at him, a wide-eyed stare quickly morphing into a pompous pout as he readied himself to go out.
"You ready kid?"
"Please Cena, I was born for this. Just try not to break a hip out there old man, this is my night and I'm not about to have it ruined by you. Your time is over," and there was that smirk. That smirk had always drawn John to him, the smirk that he couldn't help but want to wipe off his face by pushing him against a wall and ravishing his mouth.
"Jesus Cena, I know I've kicked your face in these past few weeks, but I didn't think I'd rattled your brain enough to shut your pale ass up."
Mike was a good guy; he was funny, easy going and someone you could turn to when you really needed a friend to talk to. The Miz, however, was anything but those things. Sure John knew that he was just getting into character, but he couldn't help but wince at his biting words.
"Gorilla position, now." Well, it was finally show time.
The three men stepped up into position, each waiting for their individual cue to storm their way out, each mentally preparing themselves for the final fight at the most electrifying Wrestlemania in history.
"…you can hate me now, but I won't stop now," The music of The Miz's video blared through the stadium, reaching backstage where they waited. It was almost Mike's turn to strut out, his "Awesome" balloons already set up for him to kick through. Alex stood at his side, a giant grin painted on his face as he jumped up and down, the metal suitcase shaking in his hands.
With a final adjustment of his jacket, and a slow exhale, The Miz set his face into an arrogant pout and ran forward, out to the cheering crowd, Alex on his heels.
John waited for his turn, the choir getting ready as The Miz and Alex Riley made their entrance and strutted around the ring, taking in the mixed cheers and jeers from the crowd of the Georgia Dome. The feeling wasn't new to Cena, he had been in Mike's position before, and was sure he'd be there again. A knowing smile crossed his face as he imagined the younger wrestler bouncing around the ring, hopping up on the ropes and raising his arms in defiance, soaking in the audience's reaction. He would do Mike proud tonight, every muscle of his tensed as he readied himself for the coming match.
Finally he heard his cue from the choir, as they reached the peak of his entrance song, swaying together as a whole. He entered to the sounds of loud boos and the chanting of "Cena Sucks." It was a disheartening blow; his fans had all been turned against him due to The Rock's opening words. It hurt. There was still his loyal CeNation, but the loud jeers of the many drowned out the cheers of the few. He had come out determined, ready to show off how great The Miz had turned out, but the raging crowd had his blood boiling, and any thoughts of being civil were thrown out the window.
His head was pounding, the sounds of the stadium cancelled out by the blood rushing in his ears. He would have his own version of "team bring it" tonight as his sights focused in on the cold smirk of The Miz. The distinction between his friend and his opponent was gone, and he was ready to beat the snot out of the younger man pacing in front of him. Cena tossed his shirt into the crowd, not caring where it landed and waited for the chiming of the bell to unleash the raging beast inside of him.
"Ding Ding Ding" the bell sounded and the men were after one another, their animalistic instincts kicking in as they lunged at each other. Their movements were quick and well-practiced. They stepped together in a violent dance, with The Miz taking the lead, and John falling into place beside him.
He was struggling to keep up with their dance, The Miz in full power. John's anger had him tripping over his own feet, and stepping on the toes of his partner. He was botching move after move, and it was taking every ounce of Mike's strength to cover it up. The more he messed up, and more his fury grew, but he just couldn't find his rhythm.
"What the fuck is your problem?" The Miz snarled in his ear as the two locked together.
"Just shut up and fight," the words left his mouth in a low growl as they broke apart. He fought to get back in the grove, the continuous chants against him assaulting his ears. Riley interfered as the referee had his back turned, but the slight trip up allowed him to slow enough to get ready for the upcoming shoulder blocks, followed by his signature move. Mike came at him and was knocked hard to the ground as he was blocked by the larger man's upper body. Quick to his feet he came at him again, once more finding himself meeting the mat of the ring. He jumped to his feet again, only to be slammed down to await the hard blow of the five knuckle shuffle.
They pulled off every move perfectly, and as Cena raised him up for the attitude adjustment, Mike was ready for his next stunt. They finally found the right pace, but the fight was wearing down on the boys. Struggling for breath, Mike crawled for Alex's metal briefcase as the ref and Cena were distracted. He picked it up and charged at the older man, colliding with the front of his partner rather than his target.
Caught by surprise as he watched his friend tumble to the ground, Cena had his moment to strike. He came at The Miz full force, eventually throwing him outside of the ring. Mike's face twisted in shock and fatigue as he turned to run, most likely set on grabbing his belt and fleeing the ring before he could take any more abuse. As he mounted the barrier Cena charged at him, tackling him to the ground with a feral yell just as they had rehearsed. The crowd erupted in loud cheers as the two lay sprawled across the ground, each trying to gather their bearings.
"Jesus Cena, take it easy." The brunette panted, trying to push himself up off the ground to continue their act. He knew the older man took his job seriously, just as he did, but it was like something had snapped in the other man. He stumbled to his feet, getting ready to cross the next barrier. He had no time to brace himself as the 240 pounds of John Cena came barreling into him, tossing them both over the second barrier and onto the cold floor outside of the ring.
Mike's head made contact with the metal divider of the floor panels with a sickening crack. His body tensed as pain shot through his skull. John lay half on top of him, knowing something was wrong when the younger man groaned in pain, arm weakly reaching up into his hair, his eyes scrunched closed in pain. He tried not to move, afraid that rolling away would jar the young champion and harm him more. Wrestling was a serious business, and when a head came in contact with an object like that, every precaution needed to be put in place. His arm was across the champion's heaving chest. All anger was forgotten as Cena closed his eyes, catching his breath and hoping the other hadn't taken too much damage.
He ached to turn to the other, to make sure everything was alright. He couldn't detect the metallic smell of blood in the area, so at least the other's flesh had remained intact. The lethargic movements of the smaller man beside him caused his innards to churn. He barely heard the ref count them out, and it wasn't until the crowd began to roar loudly as the electrifying host of Wrestlemania came out into the ring that he remembered the next part of the night.
He pulled his arm back, propping himself up and looking at Mike. He bit his lip as he saw the other clutching at his head and rubbing his chest in restrained agony. He got to his feet unsteadily; ready to give the referee the signal to call out injury, but instead he breathed a sigh of relief as the champion clambered to his feet, dragging himself up as he clawed at the barrier.
The two made their way back to the ring as The Rock tossed the laptop containing the anonymous RAW general manager's message to the ground and he called for a rematch. John snuck a glance at his friend every so often as the two neared the ring. Their eyes met, a vacant haze covering Mike's eyes as the two stole a silent look, wishing the other luck.
Cena made his way through the ropes and into the ring, standing strong against The Rock, preparing himself for the impact of the coming Rock Bottom, his mind not fully there as he worried for the man standing by, breathing unevenly. He just hoped that The Rock would realize Mike was not completely himself, he knew what was in store for both of them, and he knew that The Miz was going to take a lot more than himself from the people's champion.
The bell rang and the referee turned his back as The Rock delivered one of his signature moves to Cena before fleeing the ring, backing away slowly with an eyebrow raised as the WWE champion slid in under the ropes, going in for the pin as the ref counted to three. He lay there panting, still draped over his opponent's body as he fought to stay conscious. John turned into him, their faces inches from each other.
"Mike. Buddy, stay with me," The words were nonexistent to everyone in the stadium but the two wrestlers. The Miz's eyes fluttered closed for a minute before slowly opening again to stare into the face of John Cena, he cringed as the bright lights assaulted his eyes.
"I'm fine Cena, just worry about yourself." John stared at him a moment longer before Mike rolled off of him and a nearby ref came over to pull the loser out of the ring.
The Rock continued to back up as he watched the retaining champion rise slowly to his feet, a dazed look on his face as he clung to his title while his hand was raised into the air. The crowd erupted, in both cheers and boos as The Miz stumbled towards the turnbuckles, climbing the ropes, clinging to them with white knuckles as he almost collapsed.
The fans noticed nothing, caught up in their own celebrations as Mike tried his best not to fall over as he pumped his fist into the air, maintaining his cocky attitude while he celebrated his victory. As he backed down he turned to the host, still paused at the end of the entrance ramp. Their eyes locked together and Mike's eyes widened in panic as The Electrifying One stood there, contemplating his next move.
The champion backed up as The Rock finally made up his mind, charging into the ring, set on destroying the young man in front of him. His fists flew as Mike dropped his title, arms rising up to protect his face and head from the raining blows of the larger man, backing away into a corner as punch after punch made contact with his body. The Miz wanted to fight back, aching to throw at least one punch before he was defeated, but his body didn't have the energy. His skull pounded, his knees trembled, his chest heaved and his stomach twisted as he fought to keep his feet. Finally he was slammed to the mat, still and panting in the middle of the ring. The People's Champion looked up at the audience, eyebrow cocked as he prepared himself for his next move, the crowd going wild as he set himself up for The People's Elbow. He charged one side of the ring, bouncing off the ropes, charging the other side before stopping above the fallen champion, raising his elbow high before crashing down on the weakened man at his feet.
It was over for the crowd nearly as fast as it began, but for both Mike and John it felt like an eternity. Mike wanted nothing more than to get back to his hotel room and climb into bed, while John ached to check over his friend. He knew that injuries were just part of the job, but the guilt was getting the best of him, and head trauma was no laughing matter.
The Rock stepped out of the ring as the night ended. The crowd erupted into cheers one last time before filing out of the stadium, content with the show and ready to make their way back to their respective homes or hotel rooms. Alex Riley made his way over to his mentor, crouching over the slightly older man still lying in the middle of the ring.
"Hey champ, let's get going before the lobby fills up" he shook his friend, oblivious to his discomfort. "Come on I bet the locker room is empty by now."
"Just give me a minute Alex," the weak order dropped the smile off the younger man's face.
"Mike?" His eyebrows came together in a crease of concern, "I know Johnson hits hard, but I didn't think he made that much contact. Are you ok?"
"I'm fine, just…just back off a bit." He sat up slowly, glaring at the man beside him, hand coming up to run down his face as he exhaled slowly.
John stood by the ring, glancing back at the two men sitting in the middle of the mat as he made his way back up the ramp. He ached to get in there with them, wanting to check over Mike and help him backstage and to a trainer, but he couldn't break character. There were still fans in the area, and a ref came over to escort him backstage and away from the champion. A few fans called his name and thanked him for the good fight, but his mind wasn't focused on them.
He made his way backstage and to his private locker room. He removed his remaining sweat bands and slipped a clean shirt over his head before grabbing his bag and heading towards Mike's dressing room, hoping he could catch the younger man before he left.
As he rounded the corner he found a wary Miz walking down the corridor, with an unsure Alex Riley trailing behind him. He locked eyes with the rookie, and he saw a concern that matched his own in the dark blue eyes.
"Mike, man that was a great match," He tried his best at small talk as he jogged over to the duo, not wanting to irritate the other more after being snapped at in the ring.
"Every match with me is a great match Cena, now if you don't mind I just want to change and get out of here. I've been up since 5AM. I think I deserve some sleep before the press day tomorrow."
He stopped short as the door was slammed in his face. While being rejected didn't faze him, the fact that Riley had been locked out of the room caught him by surprise.
"He's the most stubborn jackass I've ever met," Riley huffed before sulking off to the group locker room. The WWE Champion and his rookie had a great relationship, but when Mike turned standoffish, he was a bit hard to deal with.
John, unlike Alex, had a bit more patience, having been in the business long enough to know that any well trained wrestler would deny flaw or failure until they were blue in the face. He stood outside the superstar's door, ready to throw the guy over his shoulder and take him to the hospital himself if it came down to it.
He had really grown attached to the young man over the years. When Mike was fresh on the scene he caused a lot of heat with the other superstars, and John had been one of the only ones kind enough to reach out to the rookie. They had a bit of a falling out in 2009 when their storyline took off. He had been dating Randy at the time and his attention trailed away from the struggling wrestler. The loss of his only ally turned Mike cold, and he played up his character of The Miz even more, going as far as to act the part backstage as well as in the ring.
It had taken some time before Cena noticed how much his friend was hurting, and it wasn't until he heard the rumors that Mike and Morrison had broken up that he realized what an ass he had been. He had made an effort not to display his relationship with The Viper as much backstage as he once had, and tried his best to salvage the friendship between Mike and himself.
Eventually Randy had lost interest, stating that John's attention was elsewhere and that he didn't want to waste his time on someone who couldn't offer him the same amount of commitment back. They broke it off, leaving John confused and heartbroken. That night he drank away his sorrows with Mike by his side, and their friendship flourished once more. A week later he realized what Randy had meant. He had fallen helplessly and hopelessly in love with the cocky and energetic Mike Mizanin.
The turning of the doorknob shook him from his memories. He stepped back as the door slowly opened, revealing a disheveled Mike leaning heavily against the door frame, breathing slowly with his eyes squeezed shut.
"No more crap Mike, you have to go get yourself checked out." Mike was startled by the sudden words and almost toppled over as his eyes snapped open.
He heaved a heavy sigh seeing John in front of him, "How many times to I have to tell you I'm fine and to mind your own business?"
"You can tell me all you want. I'll only believe you when you actually prove it."
"And how am I supposed to do that Senor Jorts?" Mike snorted at the lame nickname he had come up with.
"Maybe when you don't need the doorframe to keep you on your feet?" The blunt words wiped the smirk off the shorter man's face.
"That's all I gotta do?" The words slurred together slightly as he eyed the man in front of him.
"That's all you've got to do." John waited, arms crossed and feet planted firmly as he waited for Mike to make his move.
Taking in a deep breath, Miz clenched his jaw and pushed himself away from the frame. He smiled triumphantly as his legs locked in place and he managed to stand without swaying too noticeably.
"There! No problem, can I go now?"
John eyed him for a moment, eyes lingering on the pale face of his companion before nodding slowly and stepping back. Maybe the kid was just tired and he was worrying too much. Maybe it would be best if they all just headed back to the hotel and went to bed.
"Fine. Fine Mike, you're a big boy. You can take care of yourself." Agitation took the place of concern and he turned to leave, but then he caught the sudden movement out of the corner of his eye.
Mike made to step forward, completely intent on finding Alex so the two could drive back over to their make-shift home for the weekend. As his body shifted his knees gave out beneath him and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. John's reflexes took complete control and he caught the falling body under the arms before he could even process what was happening.
"Mike? Mike!" He eased his friend's body down to the floor, pulling him up so that Mike's head could rest in his lap. "Mike?" He tapped the pale face of his friend lightly, panic setting in, "Michael open your eyes. Come on buddy, don't do this to me."