Sunday night, Sofia blinks in surprise upon realizing her employer isn't packing or doing his usual pre-event rituals. "Senor?" she asks quietly, peeking her head into the kitchen where he's currently sitting, staring at the wall. "Are you alright?"

He startles and stares at her, lips twisted into an ugly frown. "Si, Sofia, I'm fine," he says roughly, standing up and pushing the chair back into the table, not noticing the sound that it makes upon impact. "Here, I'll let you begin supper in peace. I have things to do..." But he doesn't make it past the doorway when her hand rests on his arm, stopping him. "Sofia..."

"Senor... Aren't you going to Raw tomorrow?"

He stares down at her and smiles wanly, trying not to let his anger out on the housekeeper. "No, Sofia. I've been notified they have no matches assigned for me, but I'll have something on Superstars apparently." She blinks, so thrown by this that she doesn't notice as he slowly walks away from her and disappears into his bedroom.

"Ay dios mio," she grimaces, pulling her cell phone out of her apron pocket and dialing one of the few numbers she has on her speed dial. "Se-... Ahem. Ricardo? I think Senor Alberto needs you..." Uncertain of if she's made the right choice in alerting him of such things, she talks with him for only a few more minutes before hanging the phone up and resuming her work, not sure how to respond when the expected knock sounds at the door, nor when Alberto comes out of his bedroom, frowning, to answer the door.

"Ricardo?" he asks, only slightly surprised to see him. He glances over his shoulder into the kitchen, just able to see Sofia at this angle, and smirks, shaking his head knowingly. He's a little relieved that she'd inserted herself in this, happy to see his best friend right now. "Come in, mi amigo. What's going on?"

Ricardo too glances towards the kitchen before shrugging off his jacket and turning towards his former employer. "Ay, well, Alex flew out to Raw early this week and the apartment was too quiet so I decided to come see you both, see if you wanted to go do something before you had to leave for Raw as well..."

Alberto rolls his eyes and ruffles the younger man's hair in exasperated fondness. "Si, I'm sure," he says dryly. "As you already know, I'm sure, I'm not going to Raw this week as they have no scheduled matches for me and seem to think I won't be needed until Superstars. So I am remaining here in Florida until Thursday." He crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow at his best friend. "Why didn't you fly out with Riley, however?"

Ricardo bites his lip and looks away, shrugging. "I, ..." He sighs, staring at his hands. "Truthfully..." He glances towards the Mexican aristocrat. "...my not being used is one thing, but having to sit around and watch you, Miz and Alex also not get used properly..." He swallows. "I didn't want to deal with that for another week, especially if you weren't going to be there at all. So when I asked him, Brad Maddox seemed content to give me the night off, so here I am."

Alberto frowns at him and grips his sleeve, pulling him into the living room. "Mi amigo, out of all of your good qualities, your loyalty's always been the strongest of them... but I don't want you to let your career slip just because I'm not at an event." Pushing him lightly towards the couch, he sits across from him on a chair, a very serious look on his face. "I know you're aware I may not resign when my contract expires and... should that happen, I don't want to learn that you've quit or stopped trying to achieve your dream because I'm gone. I know what your time in WWE has meant to you, and you shouldn't throw it away just because of me."

Ricardo closes his eyes, his hands twisting together. "But, El Patron, if you didn't hire me all of those years ago, I wouldn't have had a WWE career at all. Trying to achieve anything else without you just... feels so wrong," he admits warily. "You've been such a pivotal part of, of... everything..."

Alberto leans forward and claps his knee, smiling soberly up at him when he peeks at him. "And I always will be, mi amigo, just in different ways. I will always be here to listen, assist you with what you need, and support you. But if you stop performing to the best of your abilities just because I choose to leave, it would be a disservice to yourself, and to the WWE. And, I have to say, I would be disappointed."

Ricardo looks wounded at this and wipes at his face, murmuring to himself for a few moments before sitting up straighter. "I never want to disappoint you," he finally murmurs, staring down at his hands. "Fine. I won't... I won't give up on my dreams, no matter what comes." When he looks up, Del Rio's smile is more sincere, his eyes shining with pride in the other man. "Lo siento, I just... the thoughts of WWE without you seems as empty as the apartment without Alex right now does."

Alberto's face softens and he quickly moves to sit next to his former ring announcer, pulling him closer in a loose hug. "You have no need to apologize, mi amigo. And I admit not seeing you in the hallways or locker room at a WWE event makes me feel badly, as well, but we're still going to be in Florida, and we'll see each other as often as possible. I promise."

Ricardo nods and leans against him, relieved at his insistence that they would remain friends. He had lost Alberto once before and the thoughts of having to go through all of that again... He shakes his head subtly, pressing his lips together tightly to keep his emotions inside as the older man's hands run through his hair again.

They're still sitting there quietly when Sofia pokes her head in, smiling in bittersweet fondness for the two men, before clearing her throat softly. "Dinner is ready, senor," she calls out softly, hating to have to break up this moment, but not wanting the meal to go cold either.

Alberto nods, slowly pulling away from Ricardo. "If I know Sofia," he says, with a slightly teasing smile towards the housekeeper, "there will be more than enough food for all of us, so would you like to stay over for supper, mi amigo?"

Ricardo hadn't had Sofia's cooking since Alberto's last concussion, so it's an easy decision to make, especially when he considers having to cook by his lonesome should he return to the apartment instead. "Si, Alberto, gracias, I would love to." They grin at each other before standing from the couch and walking side by side to the kitchen, the housekeeper following them slowly to give them a minute to sit down at the table before she brings the food in to serve them, as she had so many times in the past.

Both men feel a little bit more normal that Thursday when they fly to Superstars together, Ricardo watching from backstage as Alberto competes against Sin Cara. The match is back-and-forth for a brief while, but as expected, Del Rio walks away with the victory and Ricardo smiles as he returns backstage, a grim pleasure in his eyes. With Miz and AJ's wedding only a few short days away now, it's nice to have some time, just the two of them, before everyone ends up in California for the nuptials. Ricardo is still happily surprised that his former employer will be there, expecting him to find some excuse to not attend, but he almost seems to be looking forward to some time away from Florida where he's not expected to do WWE business and just be himself for once.

Ricardo is anticipating the few days they'll be spending in California as well, always glad to return home, but first they have to make it through Smackdown and Raw...

Which goes worse than either could've expected. Alberto suffers another loss against Dolph Ziggler, causing him to storm through the halls afterwards, throwing anything that gets in his way, tearing at the scarf that a technician hands him before leaving it to float to the ground in strips. He snaps at anyone who is nearby and, when he arrives at the locker room, everyone inside takes one look at him before scrambling. He tries to throw a bench over, just to snarl when he realizes that it's bolted to the floor- probably because of people like him. Instead, he kicks at the nearest gear bag and overturns another, dumping clothes and other personal affects all over the floor. Gasping for angry breath after angry breath, he walks over to the opposite wall and leans against it, trying to regain control. Ziggler had spoke of seizing his destiny, which feels like a slap in the face to Del Rio, whose destiny had begun failing him months and months ago, when Ricardo had been left so callously behind by RVD and he had hurt him, taken him off of TV. The younger man hadn't yet regained his role on television, so Del Rio thinks perhaps he deserves all that had gone wrong since. Karma, as they say...

His thoughts are disrupted suddenly by a soft touch on his shoulder, turning sharply to- see a microphone held against his flesh, this alone making his blood boil all over again. He grips the person who dares touch him and slams them against the wall, so far gone that he can't see beyond the microphone, much less anything else. "You idiota perro, do you think I will allow you to get some cheap interview with me? That you will spin in some disgusting way, or use to make me look weak?" He shakes the person, spitting in his anger. "You will not be getting your 15 seconds of fame from me!" His diatribe eases as quickly as it'd begun when the microphone slips from the person's fingers, hitting the floor with a loud squeech. Only then does other things begin to register, such as soft, soothing whispers, a hand on his arm.

"No, no, El Patron, lo siento, I didn't mean to bring the microphone with me. I saw you come here, and I wanted- I wanted to make sure you were ok. I wasn't thinking." He pauses for a moment, realizing that recognition is beginning to dawn on Alberto face and he coughs lightly. "It's me, it's Ricardo."

Del Rio curses in Spanish, digging his fingers into his forehead. "Maldita sea," he sighs. "Ricardo, I wasn't... paying attention, lo siento, mi amigo." He releases him gingerly, brushing off his shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Si, I'm fine," the younger man says, adjusting his jacket. "Don't worry about it. How are you?" He searches his friend's face, visibly worried as Alberto shakes his head, eyes trained to the floor. "Ok. If you want to leave, I'm done with interviews for the night."

"Very well," he mumbles, collecting his things and going to get dressed in his street clothes. When he returns, the locker room looks put together, all of the gear back in the bags, which are sitting upright and zipped, no sign that he'd rampaged through the room only ten minutes earlier, Ricardo standing quietly by the showers with a bottle of water held out towards him. Del Rio glances around at the spotless floor before taking the bottle from him. "Gracias, mi amigo. What would I do without you?" They both hesitate, remembering the few months he had spent without him, but Alberto shakes the glum memories off, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "Let's go."

A couple of hours later, they're back at the hotel room, Ricardo playing around with his phone while Alberto looks over his media schedule for the coming week, relieved that there's nothing listed on Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday, when he'll be in California for Miz and AJ's wedding. He's tapping his pencil against the page, lost in thought, when Ricardo makes a soft huffing noise behind him. He looks up, then turns around. "Something wrong, mi amigo?"

"Eh," he rolls his eyes. " strikes again."

He holds his phone out to Del Rio, grimacing as the older man leans forward to take it from him. "Is that your interview from tonight?" Ricardo nods and Alberto presses play, watching it with a small smile. "What's wrong with it?" he wonders once it ends.

"Read the description for the video."

He blinks and shakes his head, laughing softly as he skims the words. "There was absolutely nothing said in the video about 3MB."

"Exactly," he sighs, taking his phone back. "Way to mislead people."

"I wouldn't worry about it," Alberto tells him. "It wasn't your error. It may make people talk, after all, and make WWE higher ups see that the Universe wants to see you back on TV."

Ricardo blinks a couple of times, his lips pursed. "That... yeah, maybe," he says doubtfully, pocketing the phone. "So is everything looking alright with Miz's wedding? You're free those days?"

"Yes, mi amigo," he says quietly, glancing back over to his media schedule. "Everything's fine."

"Great. I'm really looking forward to it."

Alberto grins at his best friend. "You know what, I actually am too, mi amigo." Ricardo grins back, his eyes gleaming.