After a long weekend spent at live events, Alberto sighs as he stares at the wind blustering things around as far as the eye can see. Ay, he thinks, grumbling to himself as he makes his way through the breeze to make it to the arena safely. He misses Florida. He misses Mexico. Grimacing, he finally enters the arena, relieved when the door slams shut behind him, blocking off the chill from the hallways. He hears mutters and giggles as he walks through to the locker room, keeping his head held high and refusing to look either way at the people gaping at him, talking about what Batista did to him the week prior and how stiff he's still walking, his neck throbbing with each step. He has much bigger things to focus on today- for one, it being his best friend's birthday... for another, Elimination Chamber being only days away, and what he plans on doing to Batista. He tosses his bag on the floor of the locker room, quickly leaving it to find Ricardo.
It's not hard to spot him as he stands by where the gorilla position is being set up, staring down at his phone intently. Alberto pauses and watches him, remembering the days they spent with Sofia at the house while he was recovering just last week. His back had started to feel better when he had left for the weekend events, but Batista, who just happened to make his return to live events this weekend, had been itching for confrontation and he had been more than willing to respond, except that what remained of his pain had slowed him down, and Batista had gotten ahold of him. He had ate Batista bombs on both nights and now he's in even more pain than he had been last Monday night. On top of that, his thoughts are still all over the place. He hasn't come to a decision on his contract, and Ricardo's words about normalcy before they'd gone their own ways are still eating at him. His idea of normal had been waking up from the painkillers and finding Sofia and the ring announcer waiting for him in the kitchen, or the soft sounds of their voices down the hall as he'd drifted off. He hadn't realized just how much he'd missed those small things.
Sighing and shaking these thoughts away, he walks up to him and smiles, peering down at Ricardo's phone screen. "Hola, mi amigo, Feliz Cumpleanos." Ricardo startles, almost dropping his phone, and Alberto chuckles weakly. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you. What has your attention so thoroughly? Is everything ok?"
"Oh, si," he nods, taking a deep breath and smiling at his former employer, this slipping a little when he looks him over closer. "I'm great, just looking through all of the birthday messages people are leaving me on Twitter." He hesitates. "Are you... ok? You look..."
Alberto closes his eyes, not that surprised that Ricardo senses something is off after only a couple of minutes together. "No, no, mi amigo. I'm alright, it's just... Batista was at the weekend events..." The ring announcer grows even more worried and Del Rio has to work to force a small smile. "I'm alright, though, mi amigo."
"No, you're not," he says, tentatively reaching out for him. "You're tense, I can tell just by looking at you. Did you go back to the trainer?" Alberto forgets and tries to shake his head, sending sharp pain through his neck, fighting not to react and failing. "Ok, no, no, that's it, come on." Ricardo gingerly wraps his arm around his shoulders and leads him back down the hall to the trainer's office. Upon helping him ease on the cot, he sits down across from him and watches as the trainer wanders over and looks his neck and back over, Del Rio biting his lip as his cool fingers press against his flesh.
"Muscle strain," the trainer says stoicly after a few minutes. "Maybe next time you'll come to me sooner. I'll find you a brace to ease the pressure on your spine and neck."
"Will I be cleared for Elimination Chamber?"
The man stares at him cooly. "Maybe." He wanders off and Ricardo smiles at his former employer sympathetically.
"If you wanted to borrow my neck brace, I have it with me."
Alberto frowns at him. "You still bring all of that with you?" Ricardo had a number of old braces and things to help him considering all of the injuries he suffered while working for Alberto, and he had hoped that, upon their allegiance ending, he'd feel less dependent upon such things.
"I bring everything," he tries shrugging it off. "Always be prepared, si? I'll be right back." Alberto sighs as he ducks out to get his bag and find the neckbrace that he'd used so many times over the past few years, closing his eyes. Ricardo, of course, returns before the trainer, who is clearly passive aggressively making Alberto wait since he hadn't come to him over the weekend when his issues had begun. "Are you awake?" he whispers, smiling slightly when Del Rio opens his eyes to find him leaning over him. "Here, sit up. Careful." He helps him sit upright and wraps the brace around his neck gently, making sure it's secure but gives him plenty of room to breathe. "Comfortable?"
Alberto nods, waiting patiently as Ricardo brushes his fingers around the curve of the brace, doublechecking it before he moves aside and sits back down. "Not the way you intended on spending your birthday, hm, mi amigo?" he asks, unable to look down at him due to the restriction of the brace.
"I'm sorry you're hurt," he says softly. "But... a few months ago, all I could picture my birthday being was... empty, because I never imagined we'd ever be friends again. I know Mike and Alex would've done the best they could, but it wouldn't have been the same." Alberto hurts at his words, unable to think of a worthwhile response to this. After a few moments, Ricardo's phone beeps as he more than likely resumes reading through his tweets while they wait for the trainers to say it's ok for Alberto to leave. "Despite my being off of TV for months, they haven't forgotten me," he says in some awe.
Alberto's eyes prickle even more as he looks towards his friend. "Of course, mi amigo. Who could ever forget you?" Ricardo smiles sheepishly, glancing back at all of the messages on his phone. "Have you heard anything more from Miz?" he asks grimly, desperate for any topic to keep his mind off of the pain still shooting up his neck randomly.
"Oh, ah, he and AJ should be arriving soon, Alex is keeping an eye out for them. We want to congratulate them..." He pauses and looks up at Alberto. "You're welcome to come, if you want."
Alberto takes a breath once he realizes that he can't shake his head with the brace holding him in place. "I don't think Miz would be thrilled with my being there, mi amigo. I'll come by later, perhaps."
"Oh, si, of course," Ricardo nods, looking up at him for a moment, wondering if something else is going on with him. Sighing, he turns his attention back to his phone to wait for Alex's text about Mike, aware that Alberto won't want to talk about it here, at the arena. When the trainer finally returns, allows them to leave after he checks the neckbrace, assured that it'll offer Del Rio the support he needs, they go their separate ways once Ricardo seems more comfortable in him wandering around on his own.
A few minutes later, Alberto glances into the catering area, unsurprised to find a cake waiting- the staff always makes one whenever there's a birthday, which, with all of the competitors and staff behind putting WWE on TV, is almost every event. He sneaks over to it, glad to see that so far, it's untouched, and decorated well enough, considering. He finds a chair and pulls it up to the table by the cake, slumping down to wait. Whenever anyone comes too close to it, he glares at them until they walk away, Del Rio relieved when his phone finally beeps to alert him to a text from Mike. He stiffly glances around catering, glad that it's still so early that not many people are lurking around, this being the only reason he feels comfortable enough to leave.
He walks to AJ's locker room, staring suspiciously at the divas champion nameplate, before knocking on the door. Ricardo happens to answer and Alberto smiles at him. "Hola, mi amigo. May I come in?"
"Oh, uh, of course, Alberto," Ricardo says, looking surprised as he steps aside. "Is everything ok?"
"Si, mi amigo, everything's fine," he smiles a little over Ricardo's head, unable to look down at him, before turning his upper body to glance over towards Mike and AJ as they talk softly with Tamina and Alex across the room. "So everything's alright again?"
"Si, they're so happy," the former ring announcer beams. "Come, come." He leads him over to the couple and waits until a lull in the conversation. "Eh, Mike, Alberto's here."
Mike looks up and locks eyes with the Mexican aristocrat, glancing back at Ricardo for a moment. He doesn't seem surprised by the neckbrace, so Alberto figures that Ricardo had warned them ahead of time. "Hey, Del Rio."
Alberto squeezes his best friend's shoulder. "Hola, Miz." He fights a sneer as he considers Mike marrying AJ, trying not to dwell on the grief she had given him and Ricardo while general manager of Raw, not wanting such petty, distant issues to ruin this day for Ricardo. "AJ."
"Del Rio," she says somewhat coolly, though she too seems to be keeping a lid on it, probably thanks to the glistening ring on her finger, which she puts upon herself to lift in front of his face so he can see it without moving.
He glances at it for a moment, not very impressed with the jewelry, before facing them once more. "Congratulations," he offers after a moment.
"Thank you," the couple say, Mike's eyes flickering over to Ricardo.
Alberto takes the hint and turns to his best friend. "Mi amigo, what do you say we go see if catering baked a cake, before anybody else gets their hands on it? It is your birthday, after all."
"Oh, uh, si, sure," Ricardo nods, allowing Alberto to lead him out to the hallway. "I'll be back in a little bit," he calls over his shoulder to his friends, used to Alberto's abrupt ways enough to not be all that surprised by this. They walk side by side to catering and Ricardo peeks inside, Del Rio waiting until he spots the cake, eyes widening. The first couple of years that he had worked for Alberto, no one in the WWE had bothered to acknowledge him that often, which was fine, Alberto and Sofia made sure he wasn't forgotten, but things had begun to change after last winter, when he had defended the Spanish announce team, more people realizing he wasn't that bad of a guy, despite who his employer was. His association with RVD after Alberto had so publicly fired him had seemed to confirm this for everyone, his becoming a constant at the performance center and helping out with interviews and commentary where he can after RVD left abruptly helping others to see him for the dilligent worker that he truly is. "Wow," he mutters, walking over to it and looking down at it. "It looks nice."
Alberto beams at him and nods. "Si, mi amigo, it does." He lets Ricardo take it all in for a moment longer before holding his hands out. Ricardo looks up at him, confused, and he smirks. "We, mi amigo, are borrowing this... because there's a much better use for it than letting these perros eat your cake. Do you mind putting it in my hands? Unless you want to carry it..."
"But- can we really do that?" he wonders, frowning slightly as he glances around.
"It's your birthday, of course we can do it," he says flippantly. "Come now." Ricardo still looks uncertain but he follows his former employer's suggestion, lifting it carefully before following him through the halls, feeling oddly vulnerable and naughty as Alberto makes no suggestion at hiding the cake from view the whole way back to AJ's locker room, Ricardo ducking forward to hold the door open for him. Alberto blinks, a little dazed as he catches a first glimpse at what Mike's done to the room, soft lights twinkling around a Happy Birthday! banner, streamers drifting lazily around a table full of snacks and sodas. He smiles despite himself, walking inside so Ricardo can follow and finally see what's ahead of him, turning just in time to see the awed look on his face as he spots the decorations and everything else.
"Happy birthday, Ricardo!" Mike and Alex cry out as they hop out from behind the couch, AJ and Tamina following much more sedately. Alberto rolls his eyes at their childish attitude but Ricardo's grin is so large it looks almost painful, so he keeps his thoughts to himself, stepping aside so he can put the cake down on the table. "Feliz Cumpleanos, mi amigo."
"Muchas gracias," he breathes, eyes shining in the multicolored lights overhead as he continues to take it all in. Alberto and Mike exchange glances and the Mexican aristocrat smirks at Mike, pleased that his friend is enjoying every second of this. "This is amazing."
The party is lowkey, especially considering Alberto's injury, but it's still enjoyable. And the cake is good, which is a plus. Between the airplane trip and everything else going on, he feels relieved to be able to just sit down for awhile, observing everyone else as they mingle around him, Ricardo joining him after awhile so he's not alone the entire time. "Are you having a good time, mi amigo?"
"Si," he smiles, scraping his fork against the last bit of cake on his plate. "Are you feeling any better?"
"As long as I don't move much, mi amigo. I'll be alright though. I have to be by Elimination Chamber, after all." Ricardo looks even more concerned at this but Alberto nudges him carefully. "Everything will be fine. I will destroy that perro, and perhaps I will take his place in the Wrestlemania main event as a result." His smirk grows as his former ring announcer stares up at him.
"I hope so, El Patron," he mutters, not wanting to imagine the other possibility should Alberto not succeed Sunday. Just before Raw starts, the party breaks up as it becomes clear that AJ and Mike want some alone time, the others scattering to do their own thing. "You'll be alright?" Ricardo asks him once he's safely out in the hallway.
"Si, mi amigo, I know you're busy with backstage things. I'll be fine on my own. I'll see you later, si?" Ricardo nods and Alberto smiles at him before turning stiffly and walking back to the gorilla position. He's yet again not cleared to compete, but he still wants to impart what he plans on doing this Sunday to Batista, one way or another. And he gets his opportunity when he finds HHH and Batista talking in the halls, a snarl on his face as he rests his hand on his neck, each word snapping out of his mouth like a whip. He promises to break Batista's arms, sarcastically hoping that he's not planning on using them to win the World title at Wrestlemania.
The words have barely left his mouth when Batista lashes out, pushing him roughly against a portable steel shelf, Del Rio clinging to it desperately and ignoring HHH as he moves to check on him, half-heartedly chiding Batista for what he did before they leave the scene entirely. He groans, struggling to regain his footing, when scrambling footsteps run up to him. "Ricardo," he grumbles, leaning into the soft hands resting on his back and arm, trying to guide him upright.
"El Patron," he whispers, wrapping his arm around his shoulders once more. "Come, come, we'll... we'll go to the trainers, you'll... you'll be ok." Once he's upright, Ricardo looks up at him, brow furrowed in fright. "I've got you. It's ok."
Alberto groans and opens his eyes, breathing heavily. "Mi amigo, how did you handle this so often while you worked for me without completely snapping?"
Ricardo blinks a few times. "I had you to support me," he says with a faint smile. "And Sofia. It was enough. I... I'm just sorry I'm not around for you more now that you're hurt..."
Alberto looks shocked through his pain. "Mi amigo? What do you mean? You've been here for me plenty... much more than I would ever expect, considering everything I've put you through." Ricardo grimaces, shrugging off this comment as he tries to assist him in walking forward, towards the trainer's office, but Del Rio rests a hand on his chest and stops him. "Ricardo, I mean it. You don't even live with us anymore, but you stayed at the house for days, helping Sofia with my care, despite how hard that must've been for you, being back there... and you made sure I received the examination I needed this morning, and now..." He breathes heavily, fresh pain making his eyes water anew.
Ricardo presses his face against the side of Del Rio's head, hissing out a breath. "I know, on some level- I'm just... it hurts to think of you alone at weekend events, hurt and unwilling to go to the trainer when something like this happens..."
"But that's not your responsibility, mi amigo, not anymore. It hasn't been since August." He grimaces. "Ricardo- por favor, don't feel guilty. I put us down this road, and I knew what might come of it. It is nothing for you to trouble yourself with. I will recover... and win this Sunday, and everything will work out."
"Do you promise to take better care of yourself when I can't?" he asks, his voice trembling a little.
"Si, mi amigo, I will, if you promise not to take so much responsibility on your shoulders, especially when it's not yours to take..." Ricardo nods blankly against him and he squeezes his side. "Say it, Ricardo."
"I promise," he breathes. "Can we go now? Make sure Batista didn't do anything to make your neck issues worse?"
"Si, let's." Alberto sighs. "Lucky you, spending your birthday carting me back and forth from the trainer's office..." Ricardo smiles faintly but doesn't respond verbally, guiding him the rest of the way down the hallway.
To their relief, the trainer doesn't find anything seriously wrong following all of this, urging him to take it easy and rest before he re-evaluates the situation prior to Elimination Chamber, which means that Ricardo and Alberto return to Florida once more to ensure he accomplishes just that. Alex has responsibilities to do with last minute WWE Network stuff, and Mike and AJ seem too wrapped up in each other to notice much else going on around them, so no one blinks an eye when the former ring announcer leaves. Which is just as well, Ricardo's lingering guilt- despite Alberto's urging earlier not to feel responsible for his care- is eased merely by sitting next to him and making sure that he does alright through the turbulation and everything else during the flight back home.
He doesn't stay at the house this time, though he makes sure that Alberto knows if he needs anything, Ricardo's available to him. And, in fact, on Wednesday, he even drops by the house to suggest something, smiling at Sofia as she welcomes him into the house. "Hola, Sofia, is Alberto awake?"
"Si, Ricardo," she nods, beaming at him. "He's in the living room, trying to watch some sports that he recorded while gone."
"Gracias," he tells her, brushing past to find his former employer. Which takes no time at all, a small smile passing over Ricardo's face as he notices just how sharply Alberto is glaring at the TV, looking as though he would be throwing things if it wouldn't bring even more stabbing pain up his neck. "Problems, Alberto?" he asks good-humoredly, wincing slightly when the older man jerks and tries to look up at him, his neck pain stopping the rapid movement. "Eh, lo siento," he breathes, sinking down next to him on the couch as he realizes just how much that must've hurt, regularly feeling the same sort of pain when his neck was injured.
"It's fine, mi amigo. What are you doing here in the middle of a Wednesday afternoon?" he asks, pausing the game to turn his full attention to Ricardo. His neck is still stiff, though somewhat better than it was on Monday, but he can't bring himself to wear Ricardo's neckbrace anymore, its presence only making Sofia worry all the more for him. "Aren't you usually training by now?"
Ricardo grins at him. "Si, that's why I'm here. I thought perhaps it would be a good distraction to... invite you along to the performance center, see how my training is coming along. If you don't feel up to it, I understand-"
"No, no, I would be honored to come along, mi amigo," Alberto shakes his head, smiling slightly. "I have been curious how you've been progressing, as it stands. Let's go."
Sofia doesn't seem thrilled at the idea but sees them off anyway, Ricardo's whispered assurances to keep an eye on the Mexican aristocrat keeping her from looking too disapproving as they leave the grounds, Ricardo's eyes gleaming happily as Alberto waves at the housekeeper to keep her from completely melting down in her displeasure.
Upon arriving at the center, Ricardo leads Alberto into the room with the wrestling rings to practice in and finds the most comfortable chair in the room- which isn't saying much, unfortunately- and guides him into it, frowning slightly. "If you get too uncomfortable, or just want to leave, let me know, Alberto. You probably should be resting anyway-"
"I'm fine, mi amigo." Alberto sits up a little straighter and smirks up at him. "Now show me what you can do."
"Si," the ring announcer murmurs, resting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning to find someone to wrestle against. Not long after they lock up, feeling each other out, he forgets everything surrounding them- Alberto's eyes on him, the other people training in different ways, the time... nothing matters but what's going on between these ring ropes, each takedown, highflying attempt, punch, kick, armdrag, submission hold... He only takes a few breathers here and there upon trading training partners, and by the time he finally has enough of it all, he's shocked to discover a good five hours had passed and it's almost 11 PM, the performance center about to close for the night.
Alberto, who seemingly hadn't moved once this whole time, stands upon seeing the look on his face and chuckles, walking over to him as he exits the ring. "Mi amigo, that was quite impressive."
"I can't believe you didn't say anything," Ricardo gasps, brushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Is your neck-?"
"I could tell you were in the zone, mi amigo. And yes, my neck is fine." Alberto reaches out and squeezes Ricardo's arm, grinning down at him. "You are growing so quickly as a competitor. It almost makes all of this worthwhile, mi amigo." His former ring announcer looks a little sad at this, forcing a smile anyway as Del Rio wraps an arm gingerly around his shoulders and leads him to the showers so he can get cleaned up before they leave. "Let's find somewhere to eat before we return home, my treat," he calls over the water pounding against the tiles inside. "That sushi place you like so much should still be open." Or at least since I called a few hours earlier, promising a sizeable... tip... as long as they stayed open a couple of hours extra...
After Ricardo agrees, Alberto leans back against the wall and smiles, relieved that, after everything he had done to the younger man, all of the angry words said and painful things done, they can still bond over their mutual fascination for wrestling- even if Del Rio's own career is stagnant at the moment- and go out for sushi, like the old days. It helps him to hold onto the belief that, no matter what he may decide regarding his contract with WWE, Ricardo and his friendship will never fade into nothingness again.