Ricardo had noticed it, kind of, in the ring against Spud. His leg had given out. Not Spud's fault, not his own- just one of those things in wrestling. Move the wrong way, especially after months of not competing to your full ability, and you're screwed. So it's swelling and it hurts, and they're only half-way through the drive back to Florida, and he knows Alicia is going to be frantic when she sees this because "Can't let you out of my sight for a minute!"

He mentions it in a few tweets, jokingly. Laughs when Alicia buys him a walking stick when his leg continues to swell and pulse painfully. Not broken, just... injured, he's pretty sure. But there's no time or money really for another doctor visit, so he focuses on what he can control, hurricane repairs and checking on neighbors and waiting for the power to come back, which it does eventually. They spend the afternoons working dilligently, cleaning up tree branches and scattered debris, and the evenings curled up close in bed, listening to each other breathe, and the mornings sleeping it all off just to get up and do it all over again unless she has to travel for WWE or he has training.

One night, they're idly tracing fingers over each other's skin, unable to sleep, when Ricardo's phone rings. He groans and reaches for it, squinting at the unfamiliar number. "Hola," he greets.

"Oh, uh. Hullo." The voice is accented, somewhat familiar, and Ricardo sits up, frowning as he tries to place it. "This- this is Rockstar Spud? We... wrestled over the weekend and you gave me your mobile..."

It suddenly clicks. "Oh! Yeah, right. Hola, Spud, how are you?" he asks, running his fingers through his long hair and laying back down next to Alicia.

"I..." Spud sounds weak, hesitant. "I heard that you were injured in our match. I'm- I'm so sorry, you know I only have nine months of experience and I don't want to get a reputation of injuring people, and then not even apologizing for it. I am so, so sorry-"

"Hey, man, breathe," Ricardo tells him with a small smile. "I wasn't blaming you, I just landed wrong or something. Considering it was my first match back in almost a year, it's a wonder that's all I did to myself." He stresses the last few words, trying to hammer in the point that he accepts most or all of the blame for his ankle injury. "You're fine. Probably one of the best opponents I've ever had. Nine months of experience and all." He tries not to laugh as Spud gasps.

"Really, sir? Thank you so much! That... that means everything." There's not much else to say so Spud stutters out another apology and then wishes Ricardo a good night before hanging up, dazed.

"... He really thinks it's 2002?" Alicia asks, tucking her face under his jaw.

"Yes. Yes he does," Ricardo murmurs, kissing the top of her head and mulling over it.

The power returns while Alicia is still on the road that week and Alberto comes to visit, assisting Ricardo in making his way around the apartment, tossing out pretty much everything that they'd had in their fridge and freezer. He frowns at his limp, but keeps his thoughts to himself, not wanting to intrude over this delicate forgiveness they have going right now. Once everything is out, sitting in the dumpster outside waiting to be picked out, Alberto pats Ricard on the arm. "Come, mi hermano, it's time for grocery shopping."

"Oh, no- Alberto, you don't have to-" he tries insisting, but it's too late. He's already being led firmly to one of Alberto's fancy vehicles, Alberto pulling out of the apartment complex parking lot and heading for the nearest grocery store that he knows Ricardo shops at often.

Ricardo tries to resist asking for much, just the few essentials that they can actually find on these barren shelves- bread, milk, eggs, some bottled water- but any time Alberto finds something still in stock, he pauses before it, casts a critical eye over what's left, and sometimes he scoffs and leaves it behind, but others times he pauses, picks it up, glances at Ricardo, and then places it in the cart. Snacks and treats that Sofia used to keep in stock just for Ricardo. "What does Alicia like?" he wonders, staring at the dessert aisle.

Ricardo shakes his head, already drowning in all of the groceries in the cart. Even with a massively picked apart store, Alberto can find a way to buy the rest of the place out!

"Pick a few things or I'll continue grabbing everything," Alberto warns, so Ricardo reaches out and grabs a bag of marshmellows, holding it close like it may shield him from Alberto indulging his every fancy. "See, what was not so hard," Alberto says with a fond smile, leading the way to the frenzied looking cashier. She rings them up, makes sure Alberto's card goes through correctly, and bags Ricardo's food before wishing them a good evening.

"You really didn't have to-" Ricardo says once they're back at the car, Alberto reaching out and resting his hand on Ricardo's.

"Yes, I did. It's the least you deserve from me." Their eyes lock, a kind of understanding passes between them, and Ricardo nods.

"Gracias," he says through dry lips.

"De nada," Alberto responds with a small, affectionate smile, turning back to the wheel to get the food home safely.