Alberto hopes that Miz's drama will have resolved itself over the weekend, but it's clear early on that that's not the case. He's pale and quiet and even Del Rio is a little unsettled by his lack of verbosity, something which ordinarily would've been something to celebrate, but it's not, especially since it leaves Ricardo fretful and distracted during Raw.
He sits down next to his best friend and pulls on wrist bands to prepare for his match against Rey Mysterio later, surprised when Ricardo blinks and turns to look at him, his focus off of Mike for the first time since they'd all arrived at the arena. "Oh, Alberto."
"Si, hola, mi amigo."
"Hola," he says hesitantly, picking at the sleeves of his black shirt. "Eh, Alberto..." He seems to lose his nerve but Del Rio remembers all too well how he would take awhile to make a suggestion or announce something, so he waits patiently, not pushing the younger man as he pulls his boots on and adjusts his kneepads. "Um, I've- I've been thinking." He releases a sharp breath. "Would you... I mean. I- I'm thinking about scouting for someone new to manage."
This does surprise Alberto, however, his sharp eyes flickering over to rest on the younger man's anxious face. Ricardo hadn't seemed all that inclined to manage someone after Del Rio's own betrayal of him and RVD abandoning him with absolutely no warning. "Oh?"
"Um, um, si," he stammers. "I... it's just we... we're only just starting to rebuild our friendship and I'm not sure who it might be but more likely than not, it may be someone who you don't like, and I just- I want to ensure that... if I do, it won't... change things." His troubled eyes locked on his fingers in his lap, he releases a sharp breath. With Mike going through his own problems, it had been nice to have Alberto to once more turn to for help or just to talk, and the mere thought of losing it all over again leaves him breathless and aching.
But Del Rio reaches over and taps his jaw until he looks up, swallowing heavily. "No, mi amigo, there's no chance of that. I let you go so you could find your own way in this business, si? I couldn't very well hold it against you, even if the path you choose is one I'm not necessarily thrilled by. You've been through enough, the last thing I want to do is make things worse for you, or leave you thinking that you can't do something just because of me. I want you to be happy and fulfilled, Ricardo. Do what you have to do, we'll work it out from there." He smiles at him, glad when relief gleams in the younger man's eyes.
"Gracias, Alberto," he murmurs.
Mike leaves for a short WWE app segment and they're watching the show quietly as Big Show wrestles Jack Swagger and then corners Zeb Colter, both Mexicans' eyes locked on the TV screen. They'd had issues with both Show, Swagger and Colter the prior year, Show repeatedly knocking Ricardo out, and Swagger breaking his ankle, not to mention all that Colter had said about them, so both are conflicted as the giant grips the older man and fakes like he's not going to hurt him, just to wink in an overexaggeratedly fashion, punching him clean out. Alberto glances over at the younger man, taking in the visible conflict on his face over rather to laugh or not, considering he doesn't like either men. Finally the Mexican aristocrat nudges him and smiles slightly when he looks over, breaking the tension in the air and allowing the ring announcer to grin too a little before they move on with their night.
Awhile later, Alberto leaves for his match against Rey Mysterio and, although the luchadore puts up a decent enough fight, of course Alberto comes out the victor and once more lays his low opinion of one Dave Batista out there for the world to hear, knowing that he's just poking the bear as the man's return date inches ever closer, and not caring in the slightest. He wants a challenge, something to get him out of the rut he'd fallen into since losing the World title. He thinks perhaps defeating the Animal, derailing his heralded return, is just what he needs to correct the course his career has taken.
This fades from his mind, however, when he returns to the locker room to find his best friend kneeling in front of Mike, bloodied towels and the first aid kit surrounding him. Miz's night had seemingly only gotten worse so he quietly gets ready to leave, helps Ricardo get Mike together, and the three of them leave the arena together, Ricardo catching Alberto's eye once Mike is comfortable in the car. "Muchas gracias, El Patron," he breathes out, flushing once he realizes that the old nickname he'd given Alberto a long time ago had slipped out of his lips yet again.
Alberto's eyes gleam, missing being called that, even though it doesn't fit any longer. "De nada, mi amigo."
Alex does Main Event commentary that week, Ricardo accompanying him to the arena because he feels like he hasn't seen much of his roommate lately, Alex either staying in Florida for NXT responsibilities or Ricardo distracted by everything going on with Alberto and Miz.
"I like doing commentary, but not when it's because Mike feels bad or guilty..." His voice trails off as Ricardo nods sympathetically next to him, neither of them sure what to do with this situation.
"At least he's in California, maybe John can help him think of a way to get AJ to listen to him."
"Hopefully," Alex nods, rustling through his notes for the show tonight. "Hey, I saw your tag partners are on tonight."
Ricardo laughs a little. "3MB? Yeah. Well, that was fun while it lasted."
Alex leans against the table and tilts his head towards Ricardo. "Hey, you've got an in with them now, do you think they need a saxophone player? I'm totally in if so."
Ricardo blinks a time or two. "Well, I guess if I run into them, I could check..."
Alex grins. "Yeah, man! Then we both can be honorary members!" He then seems to notice the time because he waves quickly and dashes out to make it to the announcer's desk before the show starts.
Ricardo grins wryly and shakes his head, wandering off to find a monitor where he can watch the show. "They'll have more honorary members than actual members at this rate..."
Mike is back and in rare form by Friday, Ricardo not sure what to think as he barely stops long enough to say five words to him or Alex as he drops off his bag and goes right to commentary, surprising both of them. They glance at each other as he takes the third seat at the desk, wondering what exactly has happened between Mike leaving for California on Tuesday and now.
Alberto's match is early in the night and his eyes are dark and focused as he prepares for the rematch against Mysterio, already annoyed because of his own issues with canceled flights earlier in the day, almost keeping him from making it in time. Rey claims he's afraid of Batista, which angers Alberto and perhaps knocks him off of his game as he loses. But Del Rio's anger grows bright, win or loss, and he takes it out on Rey, locking him up in the armbar and tugging mercilessly on his arm.
When he finally breaks the hold and makes his way backstage, grinding his teeth together angrily, Ricardo and Alex exchange glances before the former ring announcer approaches him hesitantly. "Alberto? Are you alright?"
"Si," he mutters, motions rough and jerky as he tears the wrist tape off of his skin and prepares to change into street clothes, to begin the slow process of putting this night behind him. Ricardo nods and returns to Alex, knowing it's best to give him a little time to himself after the frustrating day he'd had.
Despite everything else going on around them, they all freeze when Tamina wrestles Naomi and the match begins with Mike once more talking about marrying Maryse. Ricardo gapes blankly at the TV while even Alberto glances up incredulously, Alex's lips parting in shock. "What did he just say?" Ricardo mutters, thinking his hearing's finally going- or he's hallucinating something, all of the neck and head injuries from the last three+ years coming back to haunt him long after the fact.
"He called Maryse his fiancee," Alex mutters. "What... I thought he wanted to fix things with AJ, how is this going to...?"
But they can't get answers, as Mike still has over half an hour left behind the desk, so they're forced to sit there and listen, see if he says anything else weird the rest of the night. For a brief moment they're distracted by Colter nearly flying down the ramp in his wheelchair and the look on his and the so-called Real American's faces, the tension shattering in the room as the three of them laugh.
Finally the show ends and Mike returns to collect his things, stopping short for a moment when he sees everyone staring at him. "What?" he asks, pointedly looking away from the three of them as he picks up his bag.
"What was that?" Alex asks, staring at him. "You... said you're marrying Maryse again? How is that going to help anything with AJ?"
There's a look in Mike's eyes that unnerves even Del Rio a little when curiosity gets the better of him and he looks up again. He smirks as he looks around the room, taking in the looks on all of their faces. "I have a plan... or should I say, we have a plan..."
"This will end well," Alberto mutters, finally giving up on the evening and lifting his bag, wanting nothing more than to go back to the hotel and get some sleep before he has to brave the airports again the next day, hoping that it'll go better than the nonsense from this afternoon. He pats Ricardo on the shoulder on his way out, knowing that, between Miz and Alex, the younger man will get back to the hotel fine. "See you later, mi amigo."
"Ah, si, bye, Alberto," the ring announcer only just manages to call out before he leaves the room, clearly still distracted by whatever Miz is up to.
As soon as he arrives back at his room, he collapses onto the bed and groans tiredly, staring up at the ceiling. Considering once more adding a personal plane to the list of property to his name, he closes his eyes and releases a deep breath, his body slowly relaxing into the slightly uncomfortable mattress. He dozes off while still in his dress clothes and hanging off of the side of the bed, fingers twitching against his chest.
Time passes quietly as he sleeps on, unaware of what's going on around him... until his phone beeps loudly to alert a text message and he jerks away, immediately grabbing the device and pulling it out of his pocket. It's a tweet alert so he checks it... just to find a tweet from Ricardo to RVD suggesting they do something together for Wrestlemania. He stares at it sleepily, frowning in disbelief. "No way," he mutters, trying not to remember the days when every time he saw them, all they could talk about was how they were each other's numero uno amigos.
He hadn't liked seeing Ricardo wounded by yet another abrupt loss when RVD had left, nor the failure of his plan afterwards when Ricardo hadn't been able to get a steady foothold in the business, but still. He hadn't missed RVD in the slightest. The thoughts of his returning and somehow worming his way back into his friend's life after what he'd done to him eats away at Alberto. But there's no point in dwelling on it, so he tries yet again to close his eyes and relax... but it evades him, the tweet still echoing in his brain. "He's mi hermano," Alberto mutters, rolling onto his side and breathing in and out deeply to try to relax and get back to sleep for real this time, falling back on techniques Ricardo had mentioned once when he was ridiculously stressed and tense while his groin injury causes him to miss Wrestlemania.
It had worked then. It works now. He sleeps peacefully the rest of the night.
