Alberto has no doubt that keeping the secret of his possibly leaving is going to be hard on Ricardo, especially considering the week's events are in California, and they're staying at Mike's house, but the ring announcer keeps his promise, even when Del Rio is distracted while the others eat food they have delivered in, and watch weird movies, passing time until that Monday's Raw, leading to some uncomfortable questions being asked which Ricardo fields expertly. Morrison isn't here, which is just as well, because Alberto thinks perhaps if he was, he'd be tempted to swallow down his pride and ask the man about life after WWE, how long it took him to adjust- but then John had been with WWE a fair deal longer than Alberto before leaving, so he's not sure it's a fair comparison. Not to mention their vastly different interests- Del Rio had been wrestling since he was a child, while Morrison has all of these side projects, movies and whatever else.
He's relieved when Raw finally comes around and they leave Mike's house, the memories assailing him as soon as he gets a glimpse of the Staples Center. So much had happened here, including the best thing personally and professionally- he had met Ricardo here before he debuted on Smackdown so very long ago, trying to find just the perfect person to be his ring announcer... Leaving his best friend to tour the place with Miz, recollecting their own various experiences here, he ducks out of the arena and walks a few blocks until he finds a bakery that he vaguely remembers from the years before when he'd been in California. Their cheesecake selection is impressive and he picks out one, paying handsomely for it, before returning to the arena. He wants to keep it from Ricardo, at least until his match against Ziggler is past and he can surprise him with it, so they can share a slice to celebrate yet another of his victories and honor the first time they'd met, but it's difficult to do so in such a busy building.
Luckily, catering has a decent sized freezer and he convinces one of the women there to hold it for him for a couple of hours, trying not to dwell too much on the intrigued gleam in her eyes as she takes the box from him. Either way he has a match against Ziggler and he's not disturbed by the thoughts of it, even when they air a clip about Batista, of all things, right before it. It just makes him angrier and he takes everything out on the bleach blond superstar who had ruined so much of his World title reign last summer with his cash-in, and by attacking Ricardo before his suspension. He thus wins decisively in three minutes, and almost leaves the ring... just to turn back around, that old anger still thrumming in his veins. He's smug and confident as he tangles Ziggler up in his armbar, wrenching back until the man is screaming and tapping desperately, each pounding fist against his leg, the mat, anything in reach makes him want to laugh in pleasure...
Until Batista's theme hits and he struggles to untangle himself from the man he'd just defeated, barely able to believe that the man dares show his face during one of Alberto's matches... but alas he does and their fight spills outside, Alberto cringing anew as he's thrown into the barricade wall, his body screaming in pain. He feels as he's lifted up and then slammed through the announcer's desk, and then everything goes dark after trainers and doctors surround him, yelling at Batista. He comes to slowly as the referees work at getting him upright, his head lulling against his chest until he senses Ricardo nearby and looks up, the ring announcer's terror evident as their eyes lock. He's too weak to even argue as Mike and Alex brush the officials away and take over supporting him back to the trainer's office, Ricardo following closely.
The trainer immediately begins checking him for a concussion and he groans wearily, squeezing Ricardo's hand as the familiar penlight stabs fresh pain through his head. As always, Ricardo stays with him, supporting him when the trainer needs to check his back and neck, Alberto resting his head on the younger man's shoulder as backpain joins his headache in making him feel even more miserable. Mike returns with water and his cheesecake, Alberto's eyes immediately locking on the item, the dessert forgotten until now. As Ricardo settles him back down on the cot, the other man shares what he had learned while gone- that Alberto will have a match against Batista at Elimination Chamber, as deemed by HHH. The Mexican aristocrat sneers while he stares down at the cheesecake, unsurprised by this. After all, Batista had been chosen as one of The Authority's pet projects from the moment he had stepped foot in the company for the second time. No surprise that he would get any match he wanted thrown at his feet like an offering to some false idol. He's not scared, but he does feel bad for Ricardo, who will more likely than not be at ringside, commentating this match at the Spanish desk, unable to do anything to stop whatever the two men will be doing to each other only a few feet away from him.
He catches onto this, as he has so many of Alberto's deepest thoughts over the years, and strokes his hair soothingly. "It's going to be ok, El Patron," he mutters. "I believe in you."
Del Rio glances over at him and smiles wearily, wishing that everything were that simple, that all needed was faith.
The trainer sends Alberto home, refusing to clear him for competition. Ricardo hesitates at the door to their bedroom, looking over at Alberto as he gingerly packs his things and prepares to leave. "Uh, um. Alberto?"
"Si, mi amigo?"
Ricardo shifts awkwardly and runs a hand through his hair. "Would you mind if... if I came home with you?" The words slip out of his mouth before he thinks them through and he struggles to breathe. "Eh, I mean, to Florida? I have nothing really to do here the rest of this week, and I'd rather... I... I'd rather make sure you get home safely."
Alberto stares at him for a long moment. "You don't need to, mi amigo. I can see myself home alright, and Sofia will meet me at the airport..." His resolve dies away as Ricardo's face falls ever so slightly, the younger man nodding faintly as he turns to exit the room, visibly disappointed. "But-" When the ring announcer stops and half-turns to face him, Alberto smiles slightly. "If you really want to, I suppose I'll leave it up to you to decide what you want to do."
Ricardo releases a soft breath and smiles back. "Si, Alberto. Just give me a moment to pack and check in with Miz." As he bustles around, collecting the few items he has scattered around, Alberto watches him, wondering if perhaps he had been hoping for this outcome since late last night. "I will be right back," he promises quietly a few moments later once he has most of his things back in the bag. He walks resolutely down the hall to Miz's room, thankful yet again that they were able to stay in the same house, despite various tensions in the group, mostly with the others towards Alberto. It had made getting Alberto safely away from the arena after Batista's rampage much simpler than it might've been otherwise. He stares down at his hand for a moment before lifting it and knocking quietly on Mike's door.
It takes a moment but finally Miz answers and Ricardo smiles at him, trying not to react to how tired and worn Mike still looks, the AJ situation wearing on him more and more with each passing day. But he thinks, based on what little had been said the night before, that things might be drawing to an end and he's a little sad he won't be around to help Miz, though he knows the former WWE champion will understand. "Hola, Mike. Do you have a minute to talk?"
"Of course, man, what's up?" he asks, stepping aside so Ricardo can walk inside, settling in on the bed while Ricardo takes a nearby chair. "Everything ok?"
"Oh, si," he mutters. "Si, I just wanted to let you know I'm going back with Alberto to Florida to ensure he gets there alright. And, um. Since I probably won't be here for Smackdown, I just wanted to say... you know, good luck. With the whole AJ thing. I hope you figure out who's behind everything."
"Thanks, Ricardo. I hope so too." Mike runs his fingers through his hair and sighs, looking glumly at the calendar, with its large lettering proclaiming Valentine's Day in a few short days.
Ricardo winces but then brightens a little, remembering the true reason for his visit. "Ah, si, right. Mike, I have no doubt that things will work out the way they mean to... and just so you're not unprepared... I think it's time I give this back," he tells him with a small smile, holding his hand out to reveal AJ's bracelet, spotless and perfect, just waiting to be reclaimed. "This way if everything works out the way we hope it will for you, Mike, you'll be ready."
Mike stares down at the jewelry, its marks still fresh in his skin, in his soul. He misses AJ so much, just to hold her jewelry makes his ache all that more raw. But he appreciates the care Ricardo had obviously given the jewelry, despite his own feelings for the girl, so he stands and beckons to the younger man, who quickly joins him in a hug. "Thanks, man."
"You're welcome," he mutters, patting him on the back. "It's gonna work out, Mike. Just hang in there."
"Yep, that's the plan," he sighs before pulling away. "Well, I guess you should go. Lucky you, stuck on a plane for hours with a grumpy, hurting Del Rio." Ricardo makes a face at him and he laughs. "See you soon, man."
"Si, of course." Ricardo smiles. "Adios, Mike."
"Adios," he mumbles, watching his friend go before slumping back down on his bed, staring down at the bracelet wistfully.
The flight to Florida is calm. Alberto sleeps through most of it, Ricardo pushing him to take painkillers as soon as they're in their seats, just to ensure that the flight itself doesn't aggravate his injury, which works almost too well as he has to struggle just to wake him up when it's time to land. But he manages, as he has for years, and leads the older man out of the plane, face lighting up as he sees Sofia waiting for them. She tsks over her groggy employer before leading Ricardo and him out to the car, offering a generous tip to the airport staff who'd helped carry their bags upon seeing the condition Alberto is in- and the green of his money, of course.
Getting him settled into bed at the house is simple, reminds Ricardo of the many years prior, and he smiles at Sofia as they shut the door quietly behind Alberto, heading into the kitchen for a quiet moment and some tea. "I've missed this," he confesses as she bustles around, preparing their mugs for the hot liquid.
"I have too, Se- Ricardo," she only just corrects herself as the former ring announcer grins up at her. "Not that I enjoy when Senor is injured, but I am always happy to see you." Returning to the table with their mugs, she smiles at him. "Now, tell me everything that's been going on with you, hm?"
He relaxes into the chair and begins to do just that, telling her everything that'd been going on with Mike and AJ, how his friendship with Alberto is tentatively progressing. He's not sure it'll be what it was prior- or if it even should be- but at least it's something. She listens, only speaking now and again, and they're both shocked when they realize that almost three hours have passed, their tea is bitterly cold, and it's approaching supper time. She flushes and jumps up, heading for the stove. "I must start supper," she says in some horror, realizing anew just how late it is.
"I should check on Alberto," Ricardo murmurs, walking down the hall to Alberto's bedroom and peeking his head in. The older man is still fast asleep so the younger man sighs off of a smile and backtracks, just to freeze. His former bedroom is right in front of him and he swallows, tilting his head. Reaches out for the handle and pulls it open, staring inside. It's empty, dark, and lifeless. He had known how thoroughly Alex and Mike had worked, clearing his stuff out, but it still floors him to actually see it. He closes his eyes and the door, not wanting to look at the remnants of his past life any longer. He's still standing, staring at the doorway, when there's a loud sound of a throat clearing behind him and he jerks, spinning around just to come face to face with Alberto himself, a pained, sympathetic look on the older man's face. "El Patron!" Ricardo gasps without thinking, rushing towards him. "What are you doing out of bed?"
"I realized how late it was and wanted to see what you were doing," he tells his best friend, glancing over his shoulder at the abandoned bedroom. "Are you alright?"
Ricardo nods, resting his hand lightly on Alberto's shoulder. "Si, I'm fine, I'm not the one who was bodyslammed through a table. Come, come, you're supposed to be in bed for a reason-"
"Eh, tsk," Alberto mutters, brushing past him and pushing the bedroom door open to peer inside Ricardo's bedroom. "Even with you here, this room still feels unbearably empty," he admits when the former ring announcer warily joins him. "It makes no sense, I suppose, considering it's all my fault, but yet... I can't stand to look at it for too long."
"I feel the same way," he mutters, licking his lips nervously, gaze flickering to his former employer now and again.
Alberto finally sighs and shuts the door before turning to meet his eyes. "I cannot apologize enough for all of it."
Ricardo shakes his head, realizing, as he stares into Del Rio's eyes, that he really doesn't need more apologies. Not now, when his face is tense and pale with pain. "No need, Alberto. Come, let's get you back in bed."
"But-"
"Sofia's fine," Ricardo tells him quietly. "When supper is done, she'll find us. Now come." Alberto grimaces but allows himself to be led back to his room, where he settles back into bed with a sigh, a small smile on his face when Ricardo sits next to him and keeps him company until the housekeeper pokes her head in to announce the meal's ready.
The rest of the evening passes quietly, Ricardo staying with Del Rio until he falls asleep a few hours after supper for, hopefully, the rest of the night- his back aches badly enough to make any rest he gets far from comfortable, jolting him awake any time he moves even a little. Sighing, the young man trudges down the hall and heads for the living room, not even sparing another glance across the hall to his old room. He rubs blurrily at his eyes as he slumps down on the couch, curling up. He's asleep within minutes, not even stirring when Sofia comes out for a drink of water and finds him there, covering him in a soft blanket before she brushes some of the hair out of his eyes and, smiling, returns to her bed.
With Alex still in California with Mike, Ricardo spends most of the next couple of days with Alberto and Sofia, relieved that his former employer's pain lessens day by day. The medicine he's on for it seems to be doing its job, until the WWE doctor clears him for travel and competition on Friday afternoon, meaning he can go out to the weekend events, which is perfect timing considering Alex will be returning home tomorrow. After a quick supper, the three of them watch Smackdown together, Del Rio rolling his eyes at Miz's match against Fandango, though Ricardo is glad for his friend when he wins. Alberto loses interest in the rest of the show not long after this, only leaving it on for the other two as he reads over his upcoming media schedule, mouthing some of it aloud.
Sofia notices first, and then Ricardo, as he starts to doze, his head falling forward before he catches himself, fighting the lingering affects of the medicine. Even their soft chuckles doesn't bring him back to reality finally and Ricardo leans forward, scooping the papers up and putting them on the table before easing Alberto down to sprawl out on the couch, lifting his legs so he looks at least a little more comfortable, with less pressure put on his back as he sleeps. Alberto's not sure how much time has passed until he wakes up again, blinking blurrily a few times before he realizes he's not in his bed. He sits up and looks around with a grimace until his eyes fall on Ricardo, who appears to be engulfed in something on his cell phone. "Mi amigo?"
Ricardo beams over at his former employer and holds his phone out to show him a text. "Looks like he managed it."
Alberto squints through his exhaustion to focus on the screen, before looking up at Ricardo, sneering at the text that's waiting there. "Well then. It took Miz long enough." Ricardo merely grins, putting the device away before stretching lazily, tilting his head towards Del Rio. "Back to the road for me tomorrow," he says after a moment. "I wish I could bring you with me, mi amigo."
Ricardo's smile turns a bit forced as he shrugs. "Si, me too, Alberto, but I don't have a place on the card. It's fine." His face says it all- that it's far from fine, but that he's grown used to such things.
Alberto hurts for him, though there sadly isn't much he can do for him, considering his own diminished position in the business currently. His lack of control eats at him even further. "You should get some sleep, mi amigo. I'll be heading to bed shortly myself, it appears I haven't quite slept off the medicine, though I do feel much better..." He sits up and squeezes Ricardo's shoulder. "I know your staying here was only temporary due to Monday, but it's been nice having you back in the house, mi amigo."
Ricardo swallows and nods, glancing around the living room slightly anxiously. "It's been nice to be back, Alberto. I'll always be around if you need me, but I'm glad you're doing better, and things will return to normal now."
It's a blow, Del Rio has to admit. That normal to Ricardo now is living with Alex, while Alberto is out of state with the WWE, and... He nods sharply, trying not to fall back on anger and hurt feelings. He knows it's logical for Ricardo to feel this way- these four walls haven't been his home in months, since Alberto made that choice way back in August, and he has no right to feel slighted, understanding deep down inside- while he had known the intended result of his actions the whole time, and never stopped considering Ricardo as his best friend, the young man had been in the dark for perhaps too long, spending the entire time thinking that Del Rio hated him enough to injure him permanently.
But he does and so it's with some tension in his shoulders that he quietly wishes Ricardo a Buenas Noches before walking back to his bedroom to try to sleep away these rampant thoughts unwilling to leave him alone.
