Shortly after he gets off of the phone with Mike, Ricardo's phone rings. He sighs and looks around the airport at all of the other people stranded, waiting, before answering it. "Hola?"
"Hola, mi amigo," Alberto greets him and for a moment, he feels that old tension and fear that his former employer's voice would inspire in him but, as Del Rio continues to talk, he relaxes and actually listens. "I have been reading my twitter timeline and saw that you are yet again stranded at the airport?"
"Si," he agrees. "I am."
"Perhaps I should rent a personal jet, mi amigo," he says, "You may have better luck that way."
Ricardo grins, short and sharp but sincere. "Maybe, but while I wait for the actual plane I'm supposed to be on... You don't have any way of keeping the north from getting such terrible weather, do you?"
Alberto's laugh is soft and warm, like the old days, and Ricardo chuckles as well. "Sadly, even my riches and influence have some limitations, mi amigo. But I could perhaps keep you company until your plane arrives?" He hesitates for a moment. "We never did finish our Angry Birds rematch, after all."
Ricardo smiles. "This is true. Let's do it then." He quickly forgets the frustration of being stuck in yet another airport, waiting to travel out to Raw to see if there'll be any use for him, as he resumes defeating Alberto in their favorite game until the announcement comes that his flight is boarding. He beams and shuts the game off, texting Del Rio quickly to let him know why he so suddenly disconnected. When he actually gets on the plane, he sighs and slumps into his seat, tired and relieved to finally be here, on his way to the next town.
The plane arrives at some horrible hour, waking them all up as the flight attendants bustle around, doing end-of-flight things. Ricardo sighs as soon as he enters the airport, grabbing his luggage from the carousel, ready to find his rental car so he can make it to the hotel and get a few more hours of sleep before the day begins, when he looks up to find Alberto standing there, smiling at him. He blinks and reaches up with his free hand to rub at his eyes before he realizes that he's not seeing things. "Alberto?"
"Si, amigo, I'm really here," he says with a small laugh, taking one of his bags from him. "Come, it's freezing out here. Ay, this winter-" He continues to complain about the weather as they make their way to his car, which is easily much fancier than what Ricardo would've ended up with if he hadn't noticed Alberto, and the former ring announcer grins at the familiarity of this moment, almost able to forget all of the pain that had been his existence up until the truth had come out.
He hesitates at the car, looking over the roof at Alberto. "Muchas gracias... mi amigo," he breathes out, ears buzzing as he waits for a response, no matter what it would be. Del Rio had easily fallen back into how he used to act, sometimes even being nicer than before, as if his plan had never been, as though they'd been friends this whole time, and although some of Ricardo had found it easy to be back around him, talking and playing games and doing so many things he'd feared he'd never do again, it's still an adjustment period and he was still working at accepting that Alberto had yet again turned things on a dime- had never really hated Ricardo, wanting to be friends like before yet again.
Alberto beams at the simple statement, his dark eyes locked on Ricardo's anxious face, and he nods. "De nada, mi amigo," he responds simply, waiting until Ricardo is inside the car to sit in the driver's seat, looking over at him. "Although I should be the one saying thank you, Ricardo." When the younger man looks at him quizzically, he smiles glumly. "For the fact that you forgave me, despite all of the pain I caused you all of those months. I still doubt that I deserve it, but I am thankful for it."
Ricardo releases a soft breath and smiles wanly. "I'm still working through all of it," he whispers. "But... I see more of the man I used to know than I did all of those months you- you... were..." He fails to find the words, staring down at his hands. "I missed him."
Alberto nods blankly. "I missed him as well, mi amigo. But not half as much as I missed you." Ricardo doesn't respond to this and Del Rio decides to let it go, not wanting to push the subject when things are still a little shaky. He turns his focus once more to driving, eager to get some sleep before Raw. Being officially cleared from his concussion, he anticipates laying claim to the Royal Rumble, determined to win it and get his career back on track.
Which he begins to on Raw, defeating Sin Cara with a certain kind of vindication for causing him the concussion in the first place, announcing his objective, sneering at the hype behind Batista even being in the Rumble which has always been one of Alberto's favorite claims to fame, that he had won the only Rumble of its type with 40 competitors in it instead of the typical 30. He finishes talking and, mindlessly tossing the mic to one of the nearby techs outside of the ring, returns to the main locker room when he stops short, eyes narrowing.
A freshly returned Heath Slater is standing in front of Ricardo, Drew and Jinder lurking nearby, and Alberto immediately heads that way, remembering all too well a little over a year ago when the three men had cornered him then, roughing him up for defending the Spanish announce team until Alberto had come to his defense. Yes, much had happened since- including Ricardo actually teaming with 3MB, but still. Heath's influence had always added to the trio's combustible actions and he doesn't want his friend wrapped up in that nonsense ever again. So he smoothly walks up behind Ricardo, resting his hands heavily on the younger man's shoulders as he glares warningly at Slater. "What's going on here?"
Heath seems nonplussed by his appearance, shaking his short hair out before shrugging carelessly. "Just tellin' Ricardo here thanks for steppin' up when no one else would and helpin' my band out while I was busy." He looks over his shoulder at the other two for a moment before facing the younger man. "Least they didn't have to compete outnumbered, y'know?" He smirks and holds his hand up, the three fingers symbolizing the 3MB outstretched until Ricardo hesitantly presses his own fingers to Heath's, the Mexicans watching in some surprise as Heath immediately spins around and rejoins McIntyre and Mahal, draping his arms over their shoulders as he hyperly drags them away to get ready for their first official match together in over a month.
Alberto tilts his head to get a better look at Ricardo's plumbstruck expression, grinning slightly as the ring announcer blinks a few times. "Does... this make me an honorary 3MB member?" he wonders after a moment, glancing over at his former employer.
"Ay dios mio, I hope not," Del Rio mutters, squeezing Ricardo's shoulders with an amused shake of his head.
Tuesday passes quietly and his momentum continues that Wednesday, Del Rio having a match on Main Event against Justin Gabriel. Ricardo comes with to the arena, not wanting to return home after fighting with the airlines yet again just to get here, which is quite easy to understand. As it happens, Miz is doing commentary, and AJ has a match as well, so the locker rooms are pretty much dominated by their strange little group that's slowly formed since after TLC 2012, Alberto relieved when Mike has to go begin commentary so he doesn't have to watch his and AJ's sickening sweet relationship playing out before his eyes any longer.
He defeats Gabriel thoroughly and proceeds to insult the crowd, comparing them to Batista, underlining his determination to win the Rumble, before rejoining Ricardo in time to watch 3MB wrestle Goldust and Cody Rhodes, Heath Slater on commentary. His voice is grating but Ricardo seems interested in what's going on with his temporary tag partners, so Alberto says nothing as he changes into his street clothes before sitting down next to him. The match is all but over then, Slater going ballistic on commentary as his boys lose, Ricardo biting his lip afterwards. But the night isn't over then, the two of them sitting through the introductions for AJ's match against Kaitlyn when something Mike says leaves Ricardo choking on thin air, Alberto instinctively clapping his hand between the man's shoulderblades as he gapes at the TV, certain that his issues with the English language aren't so bad that he would misunderstand that- Mike's claim that he's marrying former diva Maryse, during AJ's match?
The two men exchange glances before once more turning their attention to the match, Mike not saying anything else about it the whole time. "Ay, ay!" Ricardo gasps once he's caught his breath, shaking his head. "I told him it was a rumor in the locker room- why would he even say such a thing? Now people will take it to mean- Ay dios mio!" He buries his face in his hands and groans.
Alberto rolls his eyes, leaving his heavy hand on his friend's back. "Miz is an idiota," he says thickly. "Nothing more, nothing less. Mi amigo, it's not your fault that he's once more stuck his foot in his mouth." He can remember all too well when, on a Main Event almost seven months ago, he had spoken so cruelly to Ricardo, leaving his ring announcer so despondent that Alberto had convinced him that continuing to commentate with Mike and Josh would be a bad idea. In hindsight, he's glad that Ricardo and Mike had been able to work past those issues, considering it was only two months later when Alberto left Ricardo beaten and emotionally broken, but still. The memories are still there, and the Mexican aristocrat knows he has no right to judge Mike, but even so.
"I know," he mutters. "But still... ay, I hope AJ doesn't hear about this." But it's clear she does as, shortly after the match ends, everything in the arena skitters to a stop as her angered screams, not heard in quite awhile, echo through the halls, Ricardo tensing next to Alberto. When the arena door is slammed shut, they exchange glances, immediately knowing. When Ricardo races to catch Mike when he leaves commentary, Alberto follows and listens as his friend explains to Mike about what had happened, the former WWE champion immediately falling despondent as the reality of his own ridiculous big mouth comes crashing down around him for what must be the millionth time by now.
Why Alberto is once more left being chauffer to yet another man he doesn't exactly care for, he's not sure, until he looks over, drowning in the worry in Ricardo's eyes as they drive back to the hotel in the hopes that Mike will catch up to AJ, explain everything to her and smooth it all over. Miz races out of the car before Alberto's even come to a full stop in the parking lot of the hotel, the two men unable to do anything but watch as he dashes full-tilt to the building, Ricardo releasing a soft breath as the door slams shut behind him. "We've done all we can," Alberto tells him. "While they handle all of that, why not come to my room and relax for a little while?" He had forgotten yet again, once more spending time with Ricardo causing him to forget that things still aren't entirely like before- Ricardo tends to still stay with Mike, which is fine, but he had ordered a room with two beds, which, to his relief, Ricardo says nothing about when they enter, just seeming glad to have somewhere to sit down and relax for awhile, tense and keeping a close eye on his phone while Alberto wanders around the room, getting cool bottles of water from the fridge and tossing one over to the younger man before sitting at the desk to examine his media schedule.
He finally tires of looking at it and approaches the other bed, sitting down across from Ricardo and sipping from his bottle of water. "Heard anything?" he asks idly, wondering yet again why he even cares, though he knows, deep down. Ricardo cares, and that's reason enough for it to matter to him as well.
"No," he mutters, his fingers brushing against the dark screen of his phone. "Perhaps I should text him."
Alberto nods. "I believe so, mi amigo. What could it hurt?"
He types out something quickly, the two of them then waiting until the text tone goes off, Ricardo frowning down at it. "He... wants to know what room I'm in," he tells Alberto hesitantly. "I, that... uh doesn't sound good."
"No, it doesn't." Alberto sips from his water some more, delaying a more thorough response as he watches his friend weigh what to do.
"Perhaps I can book another room for he and I to stay in, if AJ's kicked him out," he mutters to himself. "They should have at least one room available still... I hope..."
He's just stood up when Alberto clears his throat, his disbelief in himself growing yet again as he finds himself saying, "Or you could stay here. Both of you. I do have an extra bed, after all."
Ricardo gapes at him in disbelief. "Are- are you sure?"
"Si, mi amigo. It makes the most sense, eh?" he asks, not bothering to look his friend in the eye. After everything Ricardo had gone through, and all that Mike had helped him to endure, because of Alberto himself, tolerating his presence and giving them both a room to sleep in seems the least he can do. After all, Mike had also housed him, his brother and Sofia through all of Christmas... his decision seems an easy one.
Ricardo releases a breath and texts the room number to Mike, watching anxiously when, a few minutes later, Alberto himself goes to answer the door, Mike barely reacting to Alberto's presence as he slouches past him and slumps on the couch, burying his face in his hands. As Ricardo immediately gravitates to him, trying to comfort him, Alberto watches, unable to ignore the rising bile of jealousy at the proof of how deep their friendship has become since August. Understandably so, Ricardo had only started to relax around Alberto, but the mere thought that now he might consider Miz as his best friend instead of Alberto himself is just so strange, so... out of place, that the Mexican aristocrat can't even fully comprehend it.
Either way now is not the time think about such things- Ricardo had said he'd need time, and time Alberto would give him. After all, he had abused their bond for months, and it had only been a couple of weeks since he had begun trying to make things right. So he sits quietly and watches, listens, as Ricardo helps a dazed, depressed Mike to bed. He rests his hand on the side of Mike's head and smiles down at him, face soft in sympathy. "Listen, they're going to have the big announcement now, if Alberto and I watching it disrupts you in any fashion, just let me know and we'll turn it down, ok?" Mike says nothing that Alberto can hear and Ricardo grimaces as he collects his iPad and joins Alberto at the desk, holding the device between them.
Del Rio isn't necessarily interested in whatever the company will have to say, but Ricardo is enthused so he sits with him and listens as the announcement regarding the WWE network is made, Ricardo's eyes gleaming more and more with each detail offered for the innovative streaming service. The announcement draws on for about an hour, Alberto eventually taking the device from Ricardo and holding it up for him when it's clear that he is growing tired of holding it for so long. "That sounds incredible," he breathes once the screen goes dark, beaming while Alberto grins back at him, lulled by his enthusiasm for the business, which hadn't waned in the slightest despite everything he'd gone through. It makes Del Rio happy to see him still so dedicated to wrestling as a whole.
For this reason, when he glances at the time and finds that it's still early enough, not ready to go to bed just yet but also not interested in staying in the room when they'll have to be quiet in consideration of the heartbroken man behind them. "What do you say, amigo?" he asks, standing up. "How about we find a gym and do some training?" Ricardo looks shocked, staring up at his former employer, and Alberto chuckles, his eyes softening at the look on his face. When he hesitates and looks over at Mike, Alberto reaches out and pats his face, shaking his head. "He'll have his phone and we won't be that far, I promise. Now come."
Ricardo releases a faint breath before nodding, grabbing his jacket and a couple of other things before following the older man out to the elevator. It's clear early, however, that Del Rio had been planning something like this as they approach the hotel gym, Alberto undisturbed by it being afterhours as he pushes the door open. Ricardo hesitates at the entrance, swallowing as his employer turns lights on and wanders around as if he owns the place, murmuring to himself. "You paid them off to keep this place open, didn't you?" he asks after a moment, venturing inside and allowing the door to shut behind him. He laughs slightly as Alberto looks up at him, tilting his head. "I'm not sure why I'm surprised," he whispers, trailing after him to the boxing ring in the middle of the room.
Del Rio rests his hand on his shoulder and looks down at him. "Now, let's change into our gear and then I want to see this armbar of yours."
Ricardo's eyes light up as he nods, always eager to show off what he's perfected so far. "Alright, you're on."
After almost an hour of the two men going back and forth in the ring, experimenting with moves and how best to execute them, Alberto finally feels ready to get some sleep so he taps against Ricardo's shoulder, the man immediately breaking the chinlock he had floated into off of a takedown, glancing over at him as he brushes the hair out of his eyes. "I think that's enough for tonight, mi amigo," he tells him with a smile. "You did quite well. I'm impressed with how far you've come."
The younger man flushes and swipes at his sweaty face before nodding. "Gracias, Alberto." As they exit the ring, Alberto collecting his clothes and handing Ricardo his, Ricardo's dark eyes pause on the door, a soft sigh leaving his lips. "I hope Mike will be alright," he murmurs, his temporarily forgotten worries returning to him in a rush as soon as he's out of the ring, back in reality.
Alberto hesitates and turns back to him, resting a hand on top of his head, ruffling his sweat-dampened hair. "I have no doubt he will, mi amigo. After all, he has you to help him through, si?" Del Rio smiles at him, all too aware of how well Ricardo can help people through rough situations, his steadfast loyalty being one of the rare things that had kept Alberto moving forward through the hard times in his own career, and how the lack of it had left him floundering the few months he had implemented his foolish plan.
Ricardo nods, uncertainty in his dark eyes as they walk to the elevators. As they return to their room, Ricardo lingers over the lump in the blankets that is Mike, gingerly reaching down and scooping something from the bedding before gently resting it on the bedside table, Alberto surprised to find that it's the bracelet he thinks Mike had given the girl last Christmas. They exchange a meaningful glance before going their separate ways to get ready for bed.
Alberto sleeps well that night, unlike many nights that have passed since August. Ricardo tries to stay awake for a little longer to keep an eye on Mike, whose rest is fitful at best, but he quickly loses to his own need for rest, fast asleep within minutes. But it seems to go by just as quickly for him, frantic rustling noises waking him up to a confused, blurry world before him. It takes a couple of moments for Ricardo to realize- he's sharing a room with Alberto and Mike, who is currently searching the sheets desperately, muttering under his breath.
"Hey, hey- Mike, the bracelet is on the table next to the bed," he finally finds the words to say, leaning up on his elbow to reach out for his friend. "It's ok, relax." Mike shudders and looks up at him, fear slowly bleeding out of his gaze as he registers Ricardo's words. "Come on, lay back down, everything's going to be ok."
"No it's not," he mutters, taking his advice anyway. The lazy sunlight is just enough for them to be able to see each other and Ricardo hates the look on Mike's face. "She wouldn't even let me talk to her, try to explain."
Ricardo releases a soft breath and shrugs. "Well, she might just need time, Mike. I think if Alberto and I can manage to fix things between us after everything, anything's possible."
"But I made a joke about marrying another woman, during one of her matches, no less," he breathes. "Off of a stupid rumor... ugh." He buries his face in a pillow and shudders. "I'm such an idiot."
Ricardo's face is tight with sympathy as he pats Mike's shoulder, murmuring soothingly to him too quietly for Alberto to hear from where he's listening across the room.
Although neither men have anything to do for Smackdown, Ricardo once more remains for Mike and Alberto stays to keep him company as well, understanding all too well how boring events can be when you're waiting and either alone or watching everyone else with things to do.
As they all had excepted, AJ isn't there, so Mike fights to turn his attention to the segment scheduled with Big Show. MizTV, thankfully, is short and Mike escapes it with no one else any the wiser of just how tormented he really is over everything from the last few days. He clearly needs some time to himself so Alberto and Ricardo give it to him, watching some of the show while they wait for him to be ready to leave.
There's an eight-man match directly after MizTV, the Los Matadores, Mysterio and Sin Cara on one team. Alberto is sneering at the ridiculous team when he catches the look on Ricardo's face, realizing why he seems so disappointed, glum. "Hey, amigo," he says, leaning forward and clapping him on the knee. "Don't worry, you'll have plenty more opportunities to prove what you can do." Ricardo still doesn't look convinced and he forces a smile. "Besides, you deserve much better than being stuck on that team with all of those perros."
Ricardo glances back at the TV for a moment before chuckling, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. "I suppose you're right."
"Of course I'm right." Alberto grins at him as they resume watching the show together.
