Many things can happen in a week. Championship reigns can come and go, the highs of a victory can fade into bitter reality that the win isn't as meaningful or important as originally thought, injuries can heal. Friendships can die, partnerships can be reborn. But for every change, more things seem to remain the same.
John Morrison sighs and blinks, trying once more to bring the monitor into clearer focus. Seven days after CM Punk's attack against him, spraying chemicals into his face at close range, his eyes are still gritty and enflamed, almost as painful as they were directly after the attack. His fists clench as he remembers the look on the specialist's face as he suggests worst case scenarios such as permanent damage, leaving John with little more than a sick feeling in his stomach, a bottle of prescription eyedrops and a vague encouragement to try not to worry, just give it a little more time.
But he knows time is one thing he doesn't have- Elimination Chamber is in mere days, not to mention Wrestlemania only being a month and a half away by now. He needs to be at the top of his game but with his eyes feeling like someone's pouring sand into them every time he blinks, he's not sure how that's going to happen. He scrubs at his face angrily before giving up on watching the beginning of Raw- everyone's abuzz about who the host of Wrestlemania will end up being but the energy in the building barely attracts his attention for more than a few minutes here and there.
He has a match against R Truth later in the evening and finds himself almost dreading it- Truth's a friend and considering where his head's at currently, it wouldn't take much for him to snap and do something he regrets. He's finally knocked from his thoughts when someone walks in front of him, blocking his fascinating view of the floor. He looks up with a grimace, somehow unsurprised to find Miz in front of him, the always-present Alex Riley a few feet away. "What?" he asks.
Mike shrugs, his brows furrowed as he takes in John's appearance. "You look like crap," he finally says, shifting slightly as John glares at him, his reddened eyes only adding to the menacing look on his face.
"Yeah, well, who knew, hair spray isn't great for one's eye health," he spits, grumbling as his vision once more blurs up after he blinks, his hands reaching up to wipe at them once more. And I'm supposed to wrestle like this, great.
The silence that follows is strained and awkward as Miz stares down at him for a moment longer. "Come on, A-Ri," he finally mumbles, heading down the hall. Morrison watches, bemused, as he pushes a tech out of the way and into some boxes and things scattered around the hall.
In the end, John's many worries are unfounded, however, as the GM Email announces just before their match that he and R Truth are to actually tag team against Otunga and McGillicutty. On top of that, his vision holds up well enough that he manages to take out some of his anger on all three members of New Nexus that are present. It's not Punk, but it helps nonetheless.
He's leaning against a wall, partially hidden from view as he watches from a monitor close to the gorilla position as Orton wrestles Sheamus. Something tells him that Punk won't be far behind, looking for another opportunity to weaken one of his opponents this Sunday. He doesn't exactly like Orton, especially after their exchanges while he was number one contender, but his need for revenge outweighs any other tension he may have with the other Elimination Chamber competitors, so when New Nexus overpowers Orton despite his best attempts, he's the first one out.
Only seconds after he enters the ring, his vision blurs and he curses, somehow still holding his own for a little while longer- before he finds himself thrown from the ring, peeking up over the apron in time to see Cena and Orton clear the ring of the New Nexus. He slams an aggravated fist against the hard steel supporting the ring before scrubbing at his eyes in annoyance. This has to be fixed by Sunday, he thinks grimly. I can't do anything with my damn eyes like this...
The walk back up the ramp seems to take forever, John only vaguely aware as Truth follows him, tries to talk to him. He stops just past the gorilla position, looking up just to find Miz leaning against the wall across from him, before his gaze drops to the WWE title hanging over his shoulder. Most, if not all, of the guys in the back dream of competing for and achieving that goal- being WWE champion one day. Breaking through and accomplishing what so few have. His one chance weeks back made him all the hungrier to reach that level, that honor. The Rumble and Raw Rumble had left him feeling annoyed and wanting- his best just wasn't good enough on either attempts. I can't, won't, let the Elimination Chamber slip through my fingers, too, he thinks stubbornly, brushing past Alex Riley as he heads for the locker room.