A/N: Soo I have a delightful cold. Blame any oddness on cold meds and general blechness.

A week has passed, Alex Riley watching John as discreetly as is possible until they go their separate ways, A-Ri back home to Florida and John to LA until the Canada tour begins that weekend. From the moment Morrison steps back into their hotel room that Friday afternoon, the furtive glances and mental calculations of each reaction begins anew.

"Hey," he greets quietly, digging through his bag to figure out what he needs for the evening's show and what can stay behind until they move on to the next city.

"Hey," John answers with a frown, dropping his own duffel down on the floor nearest the empty bed.

Still in a bad mood then, Alex thinks, purposely keeping his eyes on his things as he reflects on the look in John's eyes the Monday before. He had talked to Mike briefly over the phone when he had returned to Florida, his former mentor too busy with this media event and that to have a full conversation but it had been long enough for Riley to get the gist of things. This kind of reaction from Mike's comments... it doesn't bode well, he thinks with a grimace.

"You ok?"

"Yes," Morrison grumbles, his very stance telling Alex it's time to step back, give him his space or prepare for an argument with the man.

They fall quiet once more, Alex taking a deep breath through his nose as he pushes some clothes back into his bag. Geez, John tries to help Mike, Mike tries to help John and they both fight each other every step of the way. Lucky me, I get stuck in the middle of it all. He rolls his eyes.

That Monday, they drive together to the arena, Alex patiently quiet as John fiddles with the radio, not finding anything interesting. Many thoughts are running through his mind- John and Mike's issues, of course, Mike's tag match this Sunday, and his own aspirations for the US title. It's been seemingly backburnered for awhile as he waits for the right moment, Ziggler and Swagger repeatedly distracting each other. He knows that his chance will come eventually, it's just waiting for said moment to come that grates at him.

His thoughts are derailed mercifully as he follows John into the arena, the buzz of the building distracting him. He's adjusting his bag when Morrison makes a thoughtful "Hmm" noise. "What?" he asks, looking up. It's the first word either of them have spoken since leaving the hotel.

"The schedule for the evening," John says, pointing to the white board. Alex steps up next to him, examining the multicolored scribbles along the white surface, reading it carefully. Alex Riley and John Morrison vs Jack Swagger and Dolph Ziggler. They exchange glances, John's eyebrow raised as they peer back at it. Their matches together the past few weeks had been all WWE, their tentative friendship not known by many people. "Ha, if the Anon GM was still in control, we'd probably be wrestling each other tonight or something," he mumbles, his eyes slipping down the list.

Alex notices immediately when his eyes fall on Miz vs Kofi, his tag partner's whole body going tense. He takes a deep breath and nudges John, not wanting him to dwell and lose his focus before the match tonight. "Come on, let's get ready."

"Fine."

It's easier said than done, however. Just their luck, Miz's match is right after theirs so he and Truth are already lurking close to the gorilla position when A-Ri and John prepare for their entrances. John glares at them both, Truth's maddened eyes immediately locking on him. He's heading for him, Alex preparing to break up the confrontation that will surely follow, when Miz smoothly drops an arm in front of his tag partner, stopping him in his tracks. "No, don't. Some people are just jealous they don't have a match this Sunday," he says bitingly, smirking over at them. Despite the look on his face, his expressive gaze is tired, empty. How it fools Truth, Alex doesn't know.

Morrison glances from Truth to Miz, his defensive position shifting as he turns to Alex, slaps him on the arm. "Let's go." If John notices the look on Mike's face, Alex doesn't know. He's a little afraid to ask.

The match goes quickly, Morrison handling Dolph for awhile before he needs a tag, leaving Swagger to Alex. The other team's issues continue, Swagger slamming into Dolph and sending him to the outside. He sees out of the corner of his eye as Dolph squirms back into the ring but ultimately leaves Swagger to eat the three count. A little more thrilling than the win is the first honest grin on Morrison's face that he's seen since last Monday as the man congratulates him on the victory.

Dolph and Swagger arguing echoes behind them as they make their way back up the ramp, barely paying any attention to Miz and Truth as they walk past. By the time they make it back to the locker room, a four man match has been made at Night of Champions for the US title, Morrison against him, Swagger and Dolph. "What were you saying earlier about them putting us in a match against each other?" he grins, rolling his eyes briefly.

John huffs. "What can I say, at least now Mike can't rub our faces in his having a match on the card anymore."

"True." By the time Alex finishes showering and changing his clothes, John's gone, the locker room quiet and empty as steam lazily follows him out into the main area. "Uhh... Great."

He runs a towel over his hair a time or two more, quickly brushing it down with his hands before heading out to try to find his erstwhile traveling partner. Catering is Morrison free, gorilla position no better, and he even looks in the other locker rooms scattered around the arena, but no one's seen the man.

"Hey," he hears, jerking slightly as he turns to find Mike leaning against a wall opposing the building's exit, his arms crossed over his chest and a weird look on his face. "Check the top level of the parking garage, that's one of his common hiding places. When there is a parking garage..."

"Oh." Alex bites his lip, shakes his head. "You wanna come too?"

"No, I doubt he'll want to see me," Miz shrugs. "Someone once told me to give him space... It worked then, for a little bit, so I think I'll just try that again. Maybe history will repeat itself, eventually." He smiles, a worn, false kind of expression, that wrenches at Alex's chest a little.

"I'm sure it will," he says, not sure what to say to take that look off his NXT pro's face.

"Do me a favor?" Mike asks, pushing away from the wall.

"Sure, Mike, if I can. What?"

"Watch over him? I can tell... he's not in a great place, and what I've said and done the last few weeks aren't helping any... No matter what happens on Sunday, no matter what he does or how he acts, you stay by his side?"

Alex takes a deep breath, floored. "Sure, Mike. I wasn't planning on doing anything differently. Things'll be fine. You'll see."

Mike nods, his lips curving slightly as he takes a breath of his own. "I hope you're right." He waves quickly before heading off the other way, spotting Truth down the other end of the hallway.

"I hope I am too," A-Ri mumbles before going to find John.