Despite all of his training and his best efforts against Ray Gonzalez, Ricardo loses. He lays in the ring, dazed and hurting, trying to figure out where exactly he'd gone wrong... but he can't tell, when the lights are shining in his eyes and the Puerto Rican crowd are reacting noisily around him. He struggles out of the ring with a wince, realizing that he's alone to suffer this defeat, unlike when his tarnished victory at the dojo had been rewarded with his friends and Paige comforting and congratulating him. On some level, he's relieved because he had decided to spend an extra day in Puerto Rico, to finally see the sights, so he won't have to see the deserved disappointment in Alberto's eyes so soon, but yet... he's lonely, trudging backstage and out to his car, driving to the hotel. Juan tries to help, he does, even now, but Ricardo quickly escapes him, claiming he just wants to go sleep.
And it's true, he does, but the excuse had mostly been handy just to go his own way, have time to himself after the loss. He stares blankly up at his hotel for a long moment before getting out of the car and walking inside, his head down. His room is quiet, dark, but he doesn't bother turning on the lamps or TV, instead collapsing on the bed and laying sprawled out, staring blankly at the ceiling as he replays the match in his mind- what of it he remembers anyway, everything a blur of punches and kicks and being tangled around the turnbuckle post, screaming in pain... He groans and closes his eyes, fingers twitching against the bedding. At some point, his phone rings and he considers answering but he can tell without looking that it's Alberto, his dread of hearing his response to Ricardo's loss almost worse than seeing it.
Ignoring Alberto's phone calls had never done any good, had only made situations worse, but this is just one of those times he can't be bothered. Exhausted and feeling sick inside, he rolls onto his side, releases a faint breath, and sinks into the dark numbness of sleep.
-x
Ricardo is minding his own business, lost in training, when he hears a familiar sound behind him. He tenses and turns slowly to find Del Rio standing there, something held in his hand. Ricardo's eyes are locked on Alberto's face, horrified by the look of disgust and anger on his ruddy face. "El Patr-"
"Shut up! You lost, again! I'm not sure why I thought things would change when we were gone from WWE, you were a loser then, you are a loser now. Heaping disappointment upon my name, associating your failures with me..." He storms towards the frozen younger man and laughs. "You are still as pathetic as you were August 5th, I'm not sure what I was thinking a year would accomplish. Worthlessness just cannot be washed out, no matter how hard one may try..."
Ricardo is frozen, staring up at him as tears fill his eyes, when there's a flash of silver and he realizes- the item in Alberto's hand is a bucket, its shape warped and bent from the last time something like this had happened. "El Patron, por favor, no-!"
-x
He's not sure what wakes him up- the echo of agonizing blows from a bucket suffered over a year ago, or the nonstop ringing of his cell phone, but he's relieved for it as he sits up, gasping and shaking. Tears are pouring down his face and he struggles to catch a full breath, wiping his face with trembling fingers. His phone is flashing Alberto's name again and he chokes out a desperate sob, once more lifting the phone but this time tossing it clear across the room where it lands on a chair, sinks in between the cushions and finally falls silent. But this doesn't matter, Ricardo's already out the door by the time it's landed, draping a jacket over his shoulder and leaving the hotel for some fresh air, the darkness of night not hindering him in the slightest.
He doesn't sleep that night, or the next day, traveling quietly through the island while his dream echoes in his mind, Alberto's angered words haunting him. It is beautiful, what of Puerto Rico registers with him, but he's so dejected and sad that he barely cares. He's relieved, in some level, to return to the airport the next day and fly home, even though Paige nor Alex will be there because they'll be out for Raw, but he thinks it'll be ok to have the apartment to himself, give himself time in a familiar place to get his head back on straight, chase away these demons that loss, and the nightmare, had brought him.
He's only just stepped into the main lobby of the airport when someone steps in front of him and he tries blindly to sidestep them, but familiar arms reach out and wrap around him, stopping his forward motion. He now knows for sure who it is, trying to find the strength inside to look up, accept his fate... but he can't quite do it, tears filling his eyes yet again. Hands ghost against his jaw, lift his face up, and it's then that all of his senses return with a sharp rush, sound and touch and hearing and sight... Alberto is staring down at him and there's no hatred or disgust in his eyes, no... he looks concerned and this side of frantic, his hands gentle on Ricardo's face. "Mi amigo," Alberto tries again. "Can you hear me? What did Gonzalez do to you? Did he injure you? Do you need a doctor, or-?"
The level of concern in his voice clashes with the hatred that Ricardo had been expecting for days now, his knees almost buckling as he stares up at his former employer, emotions overwhelming him. He realizes he's crying all over again, which only adds to Alberto's turmoil when he too notices it, and Ricardo has to grab his arm before he gets ahold of his cell phone and tries to call 911. "No, no," he finally chokes out. "I- I'm fine, El Patron, I just- lo siento, I'm so sorry I failed you. I really did try my hardest, but it- it wasn't enough... it's never enough..." He sniffs and scrubs at his face. "You probably hate me now, I always fail you..."
Alberto looks floored by this, keeping his arm steady on Ricardo's shoulder as he leads him out of the airport, not wanting some jerk of a fan to take pictures of Ricardo and post them all over the internet. As soon as they're settled in the car, the tinted windows keeping them out of sight of the real world, he twists in the driver's seat and grips Ricardo's face anew, wiping the tears off of his cheeks with his fingers. "You listen to me, mi amigo. You have never failed me, and I have never hated you, I never could. Yes, you lost against Ray Gonzalez, but do you truly think I could judge you considering how my own career has gone this past year? A loss, psst, it's no big deal, Ricardo. When I get the time, when things calm down and AAA doesn't require me, I will go to Puerto Rico and make Gonzalez pay- on my own behalf, and yours. I appreciate you taking the time out of your own career to try to assist me, no matter what the outcome. Listen to me, Ricardo," he insists when the younger man still seems uncertain. "This was only your second match back after a much too long time on the sidelines courtesy of WWE. By what I have heard and seen, you still did quite well, and I am proud of you."
But there's such a level of pain in Ricardo's eyes when he looks up at him that it silences Alberto quickly. "I had a nightmare," he confesses. "You said that... I was worthless, and as pathetic as I was a year ago when you... you... and you had the bucket, but I woke up before you attacked, but I knew what happened, it was clear in your eyes..." He shuts his eyes, trying to control his rambling. "I almost expected... but I shouldn't have, that's not you anymore, just my warped subconscious telling me how weak I truly am..."
Alberto releases a faint, whistling breath before lunging forward and hugging Ricardo tight. "You are not weak, or pathetic, or any of those things that you've said, mi amigo. You are incredible, and so strong, and the very best, loyal friend I could have ever asked for. Por favor, you cannot let one loss get you down to this extent, you will bounce back and I am sure... I have no doubt you will win in your match on the 19th. I'll do my best to be there, cheering you on, si?" He pulls away and stares Ricardo in the eye, trying to smile through his own pain at Ricardo's low to non-existent self-confidence. "You look exhausted, Ricardo. Come, let's get you home and let Sofia take care of you for awhile, hm?"
Ricardo looks confused for a bit before it dawns on him. "Not Alex's apartment."
"No, not Alex's apartment," Alberto agrees, smiling at him. "My mansion. We will go, and you will sleep there, and you won't be lonely, si? Since Alex and Paige are at Raw... let us take care of you for tonight, mi amigo. It's the least I can do, since you had to travel to Puerto Rico and do so many interviews on my behalf, not to mention the match itself."
The former ring announcer continues to stare at him, clearly conflicted, but Alberto doesn't push, content to wait him out, wanting him to feel confident in his own decision. Finally he lets out a soft yawn, flushing afterwards. "Alright," he agrees, his eyes dropping to rest on his hands. "That sounds- that sounds good, El Patron."
Alberto beams at him and turns to drive them towards his home, happy that Ricardo had agreed, despite his nightmare and everything else that he must be feeling right now. Sofia is equally as ecstatic to see him, but the young man is asleep on his feet as soon as he gets out of the car so Alberto lightly shushes her before guiding Ricardo back to his abandoned bedroom, helping him to kick his shoes and jeans off before shaking sheets out over his body. He adjusts the curtains so that they block the sun from the room, keeping unneccessary light from disturbing Ricardo's rest. As soon as he thinks everything is perfect, he sits down next to Ricardo on the bed and lays his hand on his arm, not wanting to leave him just in case he should have another nightmare. "Rest well, mi amigo."
And he does, until nearly half an hour into Raw. Wakes up and staggers out to the living room, Alberto by his side, his eyes barely opened and hair rumpled. He looks younger than usual, Sofia's eyes softening fondly as she watches him make his way to the living room and stare blankly at the TV until Alberto locates the remote and turns it on, finding Raw. The two men sit side by side, watching as Miz nearly gets beat up by Dolph but avoids it thanks to Sandow, the next segment a tag match with Paige and AJ vs Natalya and Rosa Mendes. Ricardo sits up through this, waking up even more when AJ forcefully tags herself in in a way that makes his eyes widen and Alberto mutter a low Spanish curse, the two men exchanging glances before turning back to the TV.
The match ends when AJ tags herself in for a second time and takes the victory from Paige, forcing Rosa to tap out to Black Widow. Ricardo's teeth grit together, all too familiar with how it feels to have a win taken from you, Alberto's hand rubbing circles in his shoulder. "Ay, maldita sea," he grouses. "Poor Paige." But if he's going to say anything else about this particular thievery from Mike's wife, he doesn't get the chance because Sofia appears in the doorway and nods at Alberto before ducking back into the kitchen.
"Mi amigo, Sofia has prepared some food, so what do you say? Up for some of her cooking?"
Ricardo's eyes widen, his mind immediately off of what they'd just seen. "Uh, si, of course!" he gasps, following Alberto into the kitchen. As he settles in at the table, listening to Sofia bustling around in the kitchen, preparing to serve them, and looking across at his best friend, he has to smile, the last of his nerves from that nightmare easing away. This is home, he thinks, relieved that nothing even close to the dream had come true.
-x
Alicia hums to herself lightly, leaning against the wall outside of the divas locker room, listening as the Total Divas cast argue about the inane stuff that somehow is found interesting enough to make a TV show out of. She ponders what a show based on her life and adventures would be like and giggles a little, imagining that Alex probably wouldn't like having that much spotlight on himself. Not to mention what Ricardo would think of it in the time that he still lives at the apartment. Shrugging, she's just walked away from the locker room when another kind of arguing greets her, coming from outside of the trainer's office. She follows it, more interested in the prospects of this particular exchange than anything the group of women could possibly have to say.
"HEY! Titus, get back here! Dammit, c'mon- it's a simple question!" Heath yells, his voice echoing down the hallway and attracting attention from everyone but his reluctant tag partner. Titus brushes past Alicia, storming into the main locker room, leaving Heath outside pouting and rubbing his chin anxiously. "Dammit!"
Her eyes widen as she approaches him, glancing over her shoulder as Titus slams the door violently behind him. "What's going on now?" she wonders, staring at Heath curiously.
"Oh, hey, Alicia," he greets her grimly. "Nothin' much, just this damn bunny rabbit superkicked me! 'N' no one's willin' to tell me if my face is alright!" He continues to spastically pat his face down and Alicia frowns at him until his eyes widen as something dawns on him. "Hey! Will you tell me, do I look ok? Not to be like Miz or nothin', but I would liketa know if the makeup people will wanna do anythin' to me to keep me from scarin' kids at meet'n'greets or what have you."
She giggles slightly and nods, gingerly reaching out and turning his face this way and that, examining his chin and jaw, cheekbones and nose. There's absolutely nothing that would hint towards a bruise, or cuts, anything. He was lucky. She grins up at him and shakes her head. "No, you look fine, Heath. Not a scratch on you."
As he relaxes under her fingers, thanking her profusely, neither realize that Raw is over, and Alex has come backstage after his panel responsibilities have concluded to look for her. It takes a minute for his eyes to register what exactly he's seeing, but when he does, he swallows harshly and shakes his head. But he's tired, and he has more than enough already on his plate this week- NXT will be having a panel as well, before the Takeover event, and he has to do his due dilligence on that as well. Not to mention he's tired from the hours of handling Raw's panel already tonight. So, sucking in a deep breath, he turns and walks away, wanting nothing more than to wake up and find that this was a bad dream.
Unfortunately, he knows it's reality, and this fact leaves him cold. Even when Alicia gets a ride back to the hotel with... who knows who... and crawls into bed with him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, he can't find it in himself to move, or respond to her warm touch. Not that she seems to mind, snuggling close to him and sighing softly as she relaxes into sleep. Of course, he thinks. Dreaming of Slater, probably. His bitterness disgusts him, leaves him hating himself and everything around. This was never serious. You agreed to that, A-Ri, so you shouldn't be so angry about it now when her opinion of your relationship hasn't changed, no matter how yours has. Suck it up, you've dug your own grave.
-x
After an early dinner on Thursday, Alberto, Ricardo, Paige and Sofia sit comfortably on the patio, staring out over Alberto's grounds. Everything has been cleared away so Sofia even can't find a reason to do more than just relax and enjoy herself with the others, as Alberto will be leaving in the morning for his first match in AAA. Ricardo and Paige sit rocking slowly on the wooden swing, his hand draped lazily over her shoulder, while Alberto and Sofia sit at the table and he tells them of his schedule for the next few weeks. "Here is our date, amigo," he calls out to Ricardo, who looks up.
"New York?"
"Si. Autograph signing and pictures, just like old times, si?" Alberto smirks at him and Ricardo nods. "Except not, because this isn't WWE sanctioned and we're free to do whatever we want with it."
"Ah, yes, should be amusing." Ricardo grins back at him.
The group falls quiet for a few moments, Paige enjoying the soft serenity of Alberto's grounds, nature the main soundtrack to what's going on around them, when Alberto sighs. "I wish I could bring you all with me to Mexico, to witness my match but I know you will all be supporting me no matter how far apart we are."
"Si, of course we will, senor," Sofia tells him softly, smiling at him.
He beams at her before turning to look at Ricardo, who nods in agreement. "No question, El Patron," he says quietly. "We always will."
Alberto's smile grows as he glances around at them. "Mi familia," he says softly. "Gracias, gracias. Because of that, I will win easily this weekend, I have no doubt."