A/N: I'm back! A quick thank you all for your patience, and also noting that, in order to completely be caught up by the time I'm supposed to post chapter 8 on Sunday, BtB 167 and EuM 7 will be uploaded TOMORROW.

After a quiet weekend, Del Rio sneers at the match board listing him vs R-Truth, rolling his eyes at how easy that particular match sounds. And it is, really, even though they air a short video clip of RVD before, distracting him only slightly as he enters the ring, the highflyer determining that he will walk out of Night of Champions with the World Title. He takes his frustration out on the other competitor, Truth tapping out to the armbar quickly, and he sneers as he poses with his title, heading backstage.

He had only had eyes for his own scheduled match, forgetting entirely to check to see if there was anything involving RVD or Ricardo this evening, now going to check since his responsibilities are finished for the evening. Some of the board had been erased, due to many of the contests reaching their conclusions, so there's only a few left and he spots it towards the bottom: RVD vs Ryback. He swallows, glaring at the words. Even when his money and influence had been behind the ring announcer, bullies had been drawn to the younger man, content to belittle or attack him... not, in hindsight, that he has much room to judge them for their actions (especially now), but still. RVD being much more laidback and far from as influential as he, he doubts that this will end well for the ring announcer.

And so he once more finds himself heading out to the ramp after Ryback makes his way to the ring, staring down at his best friend and opponent. Watches closely while he once more insults the both of them, relieved when Ryback remains well away from his former ring announcer, staring on stupidly as Del Rio talks on and on, saying that those two deserve each other- and maybe, he thinks, after Friday and how RVD had tried to rescue Ricardo at his own detriment, they really do. The bell rings, the match begins and he slinks away, not wanting to distract Van Dam- not this time. The last thing he wants to see is Ryback get his hands on Ricardo, especially after what he himself had done on Smackdown.

But he does have to smirk a little when RVD's rough kicks anger Ryback and he slams Van Dam into the turnbuckle post groin first, unable to stop the wince as he recalls how that feels, considering his own history. He catches the look of horror in Ricardo's eyes as he covers his face with his hands and swallows, losing his smirk as quickly as it'd come, growing pale. They really are friends, aren't they? he thinks, having ignored the earlier introductions where Justin Roberts had announced Ricardo as RVD's numero uno amigo until this moment. I thought perhaps... it was one sided, or just a business agreement, but... His eyes darken as he looks away. "I didn't want him to be alone, but..."

He huffs and watches through the curtain as Ricardo and the referee kneels by a struggling RVD, barely noticing as Ryback makes his way backstage and only just misses Del Rio on his way through. "Him? Really?" he whispers, remembering how Ricardo had been steadfast by his side following his surgery the year before, even though he'd been working through his own health issues following TLC 2011.

He shakes his head, not understanding just why he feels so disgusted and uncomfortable, sad and angry all at once, an odd kind of yearning underneath it all making him feel all the worse. Is this what jealousy feels like?

Alberto has no matches listed on the board that Friday and he's almost relieved, thinking perhaps he'll have a bit of a break before the pay per view. No matter how much of a fighting champion he may be, he's intelligent first and foremost and he knows any day off is a good thing, especially if your opponent has a match, but neither of them have anything that night, so he shrugs and goes to spend the evening in his locker room, watching lazily on his couch as the show carries on.

He's just popped a grape in his mouth, still unaccustomed to the lonely silence of having this room to himself, Ricardo usually sitting next to him, talking softly in Spanish about what ridiculous things are happening on the show, deriding the less than worthy superstars on the TV to his amusement, when Ricardo is shown entering Vickie's office. He frowns, aware that the two barely get along, when she tells the ring announcer that she's decided he won't be allowed in RVD's corner at Night of Champions for his own safety.

The very prospect is a relief to Alberto, not that he's worried that Ricardo will cost him the title, but more that the man will be safe, that something like what had happened a few weeks ago, with JBL watching, won't be a possibility that night at least. But he quickly loses all optimistic feelings and thoughts when the younger man begins to argue, his innate need to see his job through grating at Vickie, the two of them going back and forth in Spanish until... she announces that Ricardo will face off with Alberto himself, and if he beats him, he'll be able to accompany RVD at Night of Champions like he wants. Ricardo continues to try to argue with her but she refuses to hear anymore and he leaves, frustrated.

Alberto's mouth goes dry as he grips the remote hard enough to break it. "No..." She cannot be serious...? Ricardo and I, in a match? But... It was one thing he'd never considered, even when the ring announcer had returned against him in the corner of RVD, and had helped RVD become #1 contender. All he had ever wanted was Ricardo's safety, not this. Definitely not this.

He stares at the remote before throwing it away with a yell, glaring at the crater in the wall that it makes. "Puta!" he snarls, seeing Vickie's smug face yet again as she'd made the match. He goes through match preparation automatically, eyes closed and mind too full of disgusted thoughts for him to even focus on any one thing, surprised when he finds that he's now standing before a mirror, match gear in place, wrists taped and knees braced as he stuffs his feet in his boots and laces them up.

Staring himself in the eye, he shakes his head. "How am I supposed to do this?" Steeling himself, he turns and walks to the gorilla position, unsurprised to find Mike and Alex already there. The three of them stare at each other for long, tense moments, before he sneers and pushes through the curtain to the ring when his music starts.

He swallows when RVD's music hits and Ricardo comes out with his opponent in two days at his side, the two men looking at the ring and him as Ricardo steeples his hands in front of his mouth, his anxiety growing the closer he gets to the ring. Alberto's chest hurts as he watches him enter the ring, dreading the moment that bell marks the start of the match. It's all so wrong- the music, the shirt Ricardo is wearing, what he'll have to do to the man. But his victory here tonight will exclude the ring announcer from what will happen on Sunday, keep him safe, and that's the most important thing to Alberto.

He starts off simple enough, punches and a couple of kicks- careful to target a little lower than normal, his boot snapping off of Ricardo's chest instead of his skull, but the ring announcer is far from giving up without trying to fight back and he dazes Alberto, hitting a tornado DDT on him that leaves him laying long enough for Ricardo to climb awkwardly onto the top rope. Del Rio swallows and stares at him upside down, wondering what he has in mind but knowing that he can't allow him to even attempt it, before struggling to his feet and rushing to the corner in time to knock his legs from under him, crouching him on the turnbuckle. He turns his focus from Ricardo only long enough to kick a lurking RVD into the barrier wall, wanting this to end as soon as possible.

Alberto pauses for a moment before an idea, a realization comes to him, and he climbs up behind the younger man, wrapping an arm around his side securely before hooking the other around his head. He closes his eyes as Ricardo responds by curling one of his arms around Alberto's neck, bracing his feet against the turnbuckle post as Del Rio lifts him and flips him onto the mat below face first in a brutal looking reverse superplex. Acting instinctively, Alberto rolls off of him and pins him, his eyes prickling as the referee counts to three.

When he stands, his eyes are wet and he feels like crying, now that the match is over and the adrenaline is fading, honest hatred of having to do any of that to his best friend fills his veins but he knows he has to put the exclamation point on it all, convince Vickie that her decision is the correct one. Forget what's best for business, this is what's best for Ricardo and his safety, so he grips the ring announcer's arm and stretches it out in a weaker version of his horrible submission, wrenching back on it halfheartedly until- RVD appears and kicks him off, Alberto realizing, disquieted, with that action and his reaction that Ricardo's arm had snapped back further than he'd intended on as he'd been forced to break it.

He closes his eyes, avoiding RVD's further attempts at attack by rolling out of the ring, watching from the ramp as his opponent first checks on a miserable looking Ricardo, who is clinging to his arm with pain etched all over his face, then notices his title belt and picks it up, taunting him with it before handing it over to the referee to return to Ricardo's side. Del Rio sneers, eyes dark with hatred and self-loathing as he storms back up the ramp, discomfort thrumming through his veins as he considers how badly Ricardo could be injured- he'd been trying to be as careful as he could be with the match, and then the armbar, but RVD's kicking him and causing him to violently break the submission hold had ruined all of that.

He has no doubt that the trainer will yell at him for leaving the arena without getting his usual post-match check, but he can't take being in this building any longer, and he knows that Ricardo will need the trainer more than he right now. As much as he wants to know that the ring announcer will be ok, the last thing he wants is to be nearby when the trainer determines what the damage to the younger man's arm is, what Alberto's foolish decision coupled with RVD's needless attempt at rescuing his 'uno numero amigo' had caused. As soon as the referee jogs his world title back to him, he clings to it and ducks into his locker room, staying only long enough to collect his things before leaving the arena, sitting in his car and staring out through the windshield.

Here, finally, the tears brought about by the match and his unceasing worries return, and he doesn't bother to stop them, feeling protected from nosy stares and mocking WWE fans by the tinted windows of his car. He slams a fist against the steering wheel and stares at himself in the rearview window, shaking his head at his ruddy, tearstreaked face. "Lo siento, mi amigo. That wasn't supposed to happen," he breathes out. "None of tonight was supposed to happen."

He allows himself five minutes before pulling out into traffic and making his way to the hotel, wanting nothing more than to collapse against yet another mattress in yet another dark, empty, depressingly quiet room, and sleep until Sunday, at least.

Ricardo is sitting at ringside, watching as Alberto practices alone, punching and kicking, attacking thin air, doing what he can by his lonesome. One downfall to not being well-liked by pretty much anyone, no one is willing to train with you that often... That is, until his eyes fall on the ring announcer and, boring quickly of the limited things he can do by himself, he motions to him.

Ricardo blinks and swallows, quickly getting to his feet and standing at the ropes. "Is there something you need, El Patron? Water, or-"

"I want you to train with me."

The ring announcer blinks repeatedly. "Uh, eh, El Patron. You hired me as a ring announcer, I haven't-"

"I know what I hired you as," he says simply. "Don't look so worried, I'm not intending on injuring you. I can't do that much alone, however, and I feel it's time you show me what you can do."

Ricardo stares, something behind his eyes that Alberto has to smirk at. The fire of competition, just lurking, waiting for a chance. "El Patron-"

"I know you were beginning to compete in California before I came along, and there are tales in FCW of what you have done. Besides, one does not manage a picture perfect dropkick out of nowhere as you did a few weeks ago against that perro Alex Riley, so come now. Let's stop pretending. Get in here."

Gulping, the younger man gets in and stares at his employer, biting his lip slightly. "Erm. What do you want me to do then?"

Alberto smirks, certain that he's going to enjoy this. They start off simply with punches and kicks to warm up before moving on to suplexes and bodyslams, Del Rio trying to gauge where Ricardo's rusty after being his ring announcer for so long, but he can't find much that needs work in the younger man, honestly impressed.

After an hour, they're both sitting on the mat, taking a break, Ricardo handing him over a bottle of water, when Del Rio grins at him. "What is it, El Patron?" he asks, honestly surprised as Alberto's generally never looked at him like that often.

"I had my suspicions, it's just interesting to see what you're capable of first hand." He'd hired him as a ring announcer, with the decision that in-ring experience wasn't exactly necessary, but now that he's seen him in action, he has no doubt that he could handle pretty much anything thrown at him. Although more knowledge in defense couldn't hurt anyone. "I have an idea," he says, making it back to his feet after pouring the rest of the water over his head to cool off the rest of the way.

Ricardo looks intrigued. "Eh, si, El Patron? Que?"

Alberto smirks at him as he stands and approaches, appearing a little apprehensive at the look on his employer's face. "Sit on the top rope, your back to me, amigo. I want to show you how to do something."

Ricardo hesitates for only a moment, looking warily from the turnbuckle to his employer and swallows. "Si, alright." He awkwardly climbs up, clearly not entirely comfortable with the situation. Which Alberto doesn't blame him, in this business, one should always be careful, even- especially- with their friends, so the mere fact that he so quickly went up at his directive anyway makes the Mexican aristocrat smile a little before he climbs up behind him. "Eh- El Patron?" he asks softly.

Alberto glances at him before taking a breath. "This move isn't used that often in the WWE anymore, but sometimes... and if you can control one, you can learn to control a lot of them, which will help you if my opponents try to target you with them."

Ricardo blinks, not quite sure he knows what he's talking about. "Ah, ok..." He looks down as Alberto hooks an arm around his midsection and another around his neck, beginning to prepare to do whatever it is he has in mind. "El Patron..." he murmurs, growing even more concerned.

"It's ok, amigo." He squeezes his side. "Here's what you need to do, hm? Wrap an arm around my neck." Ricardo swallows before following his commands, breathing deeply as he waits for Alberto's next suggestion. "Now when I begin to lift you, plant your feet on the turnbuckle post." Ricardo looks quizzically over at him and he laughs faintly. "You'll understand when I execute the move. Now do it." He squeezes his side again and watches as Ricardo then does as he'd said, planting his feet securely on the post as Alberto lifts him and flips him over, reverse superplexing him off of the top turnbuckle before he hits the mat chest first, Del Rio's weight landing on top of him a few moments later.

Ricardo lays there, dazed, but not half as out of it as he'd expected after a move like that. After a moment, Alberto moves off of him and he looks over his shoulder. "El Patron?" he mutters.

"Si, amigo?"

"How did you know?" He ponders how easily it had been to control the fall just because of a couple variations to the move- his feet against the turnbuckle post had grounded him until the last second, helped him determine which way he was going to fall, and his arm around Del Rio's neck had assisted them both in knowing how Alberto was going to land... all in all, it was an interesting little trick that he files away in case he should ever need it in the future.

Alberto grins fondly at him before ruffling his hair, pulling away as he sits up. "Years of practice, Ricardo. You learn many tricks like these after so many years."

The ring announcer nods, brushing some of the hair out of his eyes as he grins over at his employer. "I see. Gracias for showing me."

"Any time, mi amigo," he says quietly.

Alberto wakes up with a soft gasp, blinking into the darkness as he recalls that day with a soft smile. Shaking his head grimly, he rolls over and sighs, remembering how warm Ricardo's grin had made him feel.

He's not sure how exactly Sunday will go now, but he hopes that it brings no further harm to the younger man.