The weekend's house shows are on the West Coast, Friday's in West Virginia to be precise, Alex grimacing as he watches Smackdown on the monitor. Mike is on the TV, commentating during Truth's match, mostly arguing with Kofi the whole time, and he shakes his head before noticing movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks up to find John standing nearby watching, his arms crossed grimly over his chest. "Hey."
"Hey," he mumbles, turning away from the TV and digging roughly through his bag. "Anything interesting happen?"
Alex turns his attention back to the TV and watches as Truth beats Evan. "No, not so much." John makes a dismissive "hmmm" noise before heading off as quietly as he had come. The younger man sighs, watching a little more of Smackdown as he gets an idea, his eyes lighting up. Grabbing his cell phone, he cycles through his contact list and places a call to someone he's not had to call in ages.
When the house show ends, Alex meets up with John at the rental car and leans against the car door, peering over at him. "Hey, I wanna drive," he says, smiling slightly as Morrison looks up at him, startled.
"What? Why?"
"You'll see." He reaches out over the roof of the car for the keys, his grin growing even more as John hesitates. "Come on, man, where's your sense of adventure?"
"Oh brother," he sighs, finally handing over said keys. "If you screw this car up, you're paying the rental agency for it, not me," he warns, half-teasing as he slips over to the passenger side and let Alex have the driver's.
"Got it," he says, rolling his eyes at that incident from long ago still being used against him.
John watches quietly as Alex drives from street to street, somehow knowing exactly where they're going even though John gets lost after the first few turns. "Where...?"
"You'll see," Alex smirks, glancing over at him for a second before leading them out of town. I hope this works. He only drives for a little bit longer before pulling over, the near perfect silence after the car engine dies completely all-consuming and a bit startling at first.
John looks out the window, his eyebrows nearly up to his hairline. "What is this, Riley?"
Suddenly nervous, Alex leans forward, looking out at the vacant field Heath Slater had suggested to him during their brief phone call earlier, the former NXT rookie not mocking at all once he realized what Alex had called for, sounding almost ecstatic as he recited the obviously well-known streets of his home state. Barely ten minutes later, Riley had watched, flinching, as Khali took the redhead out viciously.
He glances back over at a perplexed Morrison and grins again, shaking his head. "I was thinking... with the PPV this Sunday, and everything going on, maybe some time away from everything and everyone would be alright. So when I heard about this, I thought it sounded like a good place to think at- uh, meditate, whatever you want to do," he concludes, fumbling a little as John's silence continues.
John finally looks over at him, his face softening as he reaches out for the door handle. "Thanks, Alex. Sounds good." He pauses before leaving the car, a brief shadow crossing over his face. "Mike never would've suggested this..."
Alex swallows, watching as he pulls himself out of the car and slams the door behind him, the soft chirps of crickets dying away for a few moments before resuming tentatively. As John leans against the hood of the car, peering up at the stars, Alex digs around in the backseat, grabbing a few things. He then joins him, handing over a bottle of water.
"Thanks," John comments softly, toying with it for a bit. Alex nods, not wanting to speak and risk breaking the peace of the evening.
He watches out of the corner of his eye as John slowly relaxes bit by bit, barely moving from his position except to tie his hair back with a tie taken from his jean pocket. Neither men speak, allowing the basic, soothing sounds of nature- only broken now and again by a passing car- to wash over them.
By that Sunday, Morrison is focused once more and Mike's words of warning from the week before return to Alex- beseeching him to not let John's potential actions get to him, shatter the tenuous friendship they have brewing. He considers how far John took his quest to get a world title shot, mocking R-Truth into putting up his opportunity months back, leading the man into madness. Not that I spent a lot of time with him during that period, but he never really did seem to show regret for that... He takes a deep breath, shaking his head. But of course, Truth's actions after it... who would? There wasn't time to really consider the repercussions. Anyone would be pissed after being put on the shelf... twice... no matter the cause.
He stares at the design of his wrestling gear, gold against black, and sighs. Not that I think he'll turn on me, but Mike knows him better than I do. I just have to remember that this is a match, and he's not going to baby me. I wouldn't want him to, after all. I wanna win this US title fair and square... and I'm pretty sure he wants to do the same. It's just Swagger and Ziggler that more than likely will not play by the rules...
His chaotic thoughts are derailed when the pay per view finally starts- the first match, interestingly enough, being Truth and Miz's attempt at the tag titles. John joins him after a bit, already wearing his red tights. "Hey, you missed their rap," Alex says with an eye roll as John groans.
"Why do you think I waited until now to come in?" he volleys back, shifting to find a more comfortable position on the bench.
"Smart," he concedes. They then fall silent once more, watching on as the match proceeds, John tense next to Alex the whole time. It's mercifully short, the ref bumbling quite a few times until even Alex gets exasperated with the man, deciding that he could do a better job. Even so, when Miz argues with and then pushes the referee, a general gasp fills the room, everyone present immediately beginning to buzz and whisper as the match goes by DQ. Mike's anger is visible even when the camera isn't directly aimed on his face and everyone in the locker room gapes as he slaps the referee to the mat.
"Well, that was shortsighted," John says softly, grimacing as Truth follows his partner's example and slaps the referee as well. "Geez, they've lost their minds... whatever was left of them."
Alex feels sick as the cameras pan in on Mike's angry, tense face. He had learned early on that, no matter what was going on, touching a ref could get you in big trouble, fines, suspensions... firing. He swallows thickly and looks over at John, who too looks unsettled. "What does this mean?"
"I guess it depends on if HHH walks out COO tonight or not," he comments with a pensive frown. "After the last few weeks, I don't think he's gonna take something like this lightly."
Alex nods grimly, taking a deep breath. As worried as he is for Mike, their match is soon and he can't allow himself to get derailed. As much as he wants to search out his former mentor, he can't- Mike's made it plain that Truth isn't supposed to know that the three of them are still technically on the same side, and he needs all his focus on the upcoming four man match.
Despite his determination, there's a weird feel to the arena now, everyone a bit subdued and distracted as they carry on with their business. It effects him as well and, even though he wrestles as well as he can, in the end it's not good enough: Morrison gets the upperhand for awhile and attempts the Starship Pain but A-Ri thinks quickly, gets his knees up. Swagger and Ziggler re-enter and lock in their individual submission holds, painful flashbacks for both men as they struggle against the urge to tap. The urge to win the title overwhelms this briefly, however, and they escape the holds.
Even so, their continued attempts fail and Alex, stuck in another agonizing ankle lock, is forced to watch as Swagger powerbombs Morrison. In that moment, Ziggler quickly releases him and, before he can even think to move, tosses Swagger out of the ring and pins John, retaining his title. Alex groans and slaps a fist against the mat, disappointed at how his first true attempt for the US title has gone.
"Dammit," he breathes through his nose, watching as John rolls towards him, their eyes locking. Alex's tumultuous emotions are reflected in the other man's gaze.
The walk back up the ramp with no gold feels horrible, John a bit ahead of a limping Alex though halfway there, he slows down enough that Alex catches up, the two continuing on shoulder to shoulder as they make their way to the trainer's room for the usual post-match check up. "Your ribs ok?" Alex asks after awhile, remembering how hard Morrison had hit into his knees after the failed Starship Pain attempt- so much so that his knees were still a little sensitive. Swagger's Powerbomb probably hadn't helped matters any.
"Yeah, they're fine." He can't help the grimace that remains on his face, however. "Your ankle?"
"I'll live," he says, shrugging. Just their luck, the monitor is on in the trainer's office and they half watch, half listen together as match after match carries on, the buzz in the arena growing visibly even with the trainer's door shut.
When they finally return to the main locker room, HHH vs Punk is about to start. Everyone is tense, gaze locked on the TV. The room is so quiet, you could hear a pin could drop.
Alex sucks in a deep breath, settling his ankle on his duffel, glancing over as John drops down next to him, arm wrapped around his midsection. Their eyes lock briefly before turning to peer at the TV with a similar focus as the rest of their co-competitors. Their future is on the line with this match, many of them just starting to get used to the new way of things with HHH in control. Another new boss after such a short period of time could be devastating for many of them.
The match carries on normally for awhile, everyone holding their breaths as moves are countered, kick outs occur, the action spills out to the outside and back inside. They're all so focused on the match that when Miz and Truth rush out, attacking HHH and Punk both, forcing Punk into covering HHH, it takes a bit for everyone to clue into what's just happened, that buzz from earlier returning as the various wrestlers being whispering and murmuring amongst themselves.
"What is he doing?" John demands, dark eyes wide and troubled. Another confrontation with another referee and Punk and HHH regain control of themselves, kicking both Truth and Miz out of the ring. "Good God," he groans, scrubbing a hand through his hair before resting his chin on his palm. "Those idiots. Are they trying to get fired?"
That's not the end of it, however, as John Laurainitis and Kevin Nash both get involved, Kevin's actions partially costing Punk the match. HHH remains in control of the WWE.
John and Alex exchange troubled glances. "That's not good for Mike," the younger man mumbles.
"No, no, it's not." John shakes his head.
The next night, Alex and John arrive early, unsurprised that the same kind of tension and murmurs from last night have bled over into tonight's arena, this time the focus on Miz and Truth and what kind of punishment they'll endure as a result of their actions. Speculations are wild and varied, not at all helped by the fact that neither men are present quite yet, and haven't appeared by the time the event actually starts.
John's match is early, Alex watching on in shock from the back as Alberto Del Rio brutalizes the other man in a very, very short match, obviously letting out his anger from losing his WWE title on Morrison.
Alberto and Ricardo push past the gorilla position minutes later, barely glancing over at him. Ricardo looks tired and fretful, Del Rio's face the very picture of anger. He almost feels bad for the ring announcer as he watches them go. Forgetting this, he turns and watches as a referee follows John up the ramp, his arm held tightly to his side. Both men look annoyed, John obviously trying to brush the shorter man off.
"Morrison," the referee attempts to say again, John roughly shaking his head.
"No!"
Alex steps in, grabbing John with enough force to stop his brisk walk but not hurt him further. "Hey," he nods at the ref, forcing a smile. "I'll take care of him, ok? Go do whatever it is you have to do. He'll be fine."
"Are you sure?" the ref asks even as John huffs.
"Yeah, he's in good hands."
The ref looks uncertain but shrugs as Alex appears trustworthy. "Fine. If I hear he's not been to the trainer's..."
"Don't worry, I'll make sure he goes." Alex smiles for real now as the trainer, appeased, looks between the two of them once more before marching off.
"I can take myself," John grumbles, already turning in that direction. "I don't need a babysitter."
Alex rolls his eyes, remembering some of Mike's exasperated stories about John's pride, reluctance to accept help. "I'm not a babysitter. Just a... friend... wanting to help. There's a difference."
"We're friends now, huh?" he wonders, already turning down the hallway to the trainer's office.
Alex nods tentatively, eyes locked on the side of John's face. "I think so. Don't you?"
"I guess so," he mumbles, sounding surprised by the realization.
The trainer keeps John for what feels like forever, paying special attention to his arm due to the nerve damage and distracted a little later by Dolph Ziggler's injured jaw, so Alex and John end up watching most of Raw on the monitor in his office once more. They both grimace, John whistling slightly as HHH, obviously unmoved by their apologies, fines both Miz and Truth $250,000 for touching the referees and him, then puts them in a tag match against Cena and Punk.
"Well, at least they weren't fired," Alex says quietly.
"Yeah," John agrees, his eyes locked on the TV. This doesn't feel right. It's somehow too... easy...
By the time the tag match starts, there's a commotion outside of the trainer's office and he grumbles, distracted. Alex glances from the trainer to John before, curious, heading for the door. "Hey, they're all sitting out here, watching on the monitor," he realizes, lips twitching as he takes in rivals sitting next to each other, enemies ignoring each other blatantly as they wait to see what happens next- who HHH plans on firing.
"Go join them," Morrison says a second later, cringing as the trainer moves his arm in a way that shoots fresh pain up it. "I'm gonna be here awhile longer, one of us should at least know what the hell's going on." The trainer, fed up by the outside noise, had turned the monitor off as he focused on Morrison's arm and Dolph's jaw.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go. Tell me what happens."
Alex smiles at John, nodding quickly. "Sure! Be back soon." He slips out of the room, feeling bad for leaving John behind, but not having much of a choice. He's watching, along with everyone else, as Punk gets the pinfall victory against Miz, who slips out of the ring to join R-Truth.
They're still outside of the ring when HHH makes his way out, piercing all four men with his gaze. Alex feels nervous for reasons he can't explain, a weird sense of foreboding washing over him as the others surrounding him murmur and whisper, falling silent when HHH begins to talk.
"Punk, good match. Miz, Truth... you're fired." The bottom drops out as they watch Mike and Truth's reaction. Mike looks shocked, pain and horror crossing his features before he and Truth take off at a sluggish run up the ramp.
All hell breaks loose then, Miz and Truth quickly catching up to HHH and pounding him in the midst of them all. It quickly turns ridiculous, everyone punching at Miz and Truth and, before he can really work it all out in his brain, HHH is yelling at them to get rid of both of the crazed wrestlers, Regal, Wade and Swagger working to kick Truth out of the building. Brodus goes straight for Miz and Alex, standing nearest, acts first in an attempt to stop the larger man from hurting Mike, grabbing him even as he struggles. Their eyes lock for a moment and Mike looks horrified, Alex shaking his head briefly, before he and Brodus and a couple others literally carry Mike to the door, throwing him through it. Luckily he lands on his feet and doesn't appear hurt even as the door is slammed behind him, but all Alex can hear is Mike yelling desperately from the outside, the sounds haunting him as he quickly separates from the group of hyper, gossiping wrestlers. One of the WWE cameras corner him and he's not even sure what he says afterwards, something lame that he'll probably regret later, before leaving completely.
Morrison, he realizes, his eyes closing as he automatically turns back to the trainer's office. "Oh, God," he mumbles, licking his lips. John and Mike had had many issues the past few weeks, but this was going to be hard.
He pushes the door open slowly and finds John still shifting his arm around, the trainer watching carefully. Alex attracts both of their attention as he hovers reluctantly in the doorway, gnawing at his lip.
"Alex?" John asks, immediately forgetting what's going on with his arm. "What's wrong?" His eyes rake over Alex's distressed face. "What happened?"
"Mike... John," he sucks in a deep breath. "He's been fired."
The response is automatic, John pushes himself up one handed and stares at Alex, pale and thin-lipped. "Where is he?"
"John-" the trainer starts to rebuke, until the dark eyed man glowers at him, effectively quieting him.
"They- uh," Alex strains, exhales. Licks his lips, remembers the wild look in Mike's eyes as he carried him out of the building. "HHH made us... kick him out of the building after he fired him."
"Us," John echoes incredulously. "You helped...?"
"It was that or let Brodus get his hands on him, and who knows what he would've done! At least I tried to be careful," Alex says, flushing as John stares at him.
John shakes his head, running a hand over his face repetitively. Ignores the trainer as he pushes past him. "Come on, Alex."
"What? John-"
"I said come on, Alex. We have a mess to sort out."
Alex glances back at the pissed off trainer once before lunging for the door, following in John's wake. "What-?"
"Think, Alex. You're kind of new here, sure, but it's been long enough for you to know what the other guys are capable of. Mike didn't have time to get his things, did he?"
Alex swallows. "No, he didn't."
"If we leave them laying around too long, who knows what they'll do to them. Now, explain it to me. What happened?" Without waiting for Alex to begin speaking, he pushes his way into the main locker room, quickly looking around. Mike's bag is obvious- the area around it is a mess, as always, covered in wrist tape, various shirts, schedule sheets for media events and CDs. Only his suit is treated with any kind of care, folded and put in one of the nearby cubbies.
"Punk and Cena beat Miz and Truth-"
"Of course," John mumbles, teeth grit against the pain as he leans down to collect Mike's things. Alex quickly stops him from using his bad arm and helps, scooping the papers up into a somewhat sorted pile before stuffing them and the CDs into the bag. The shirts follow before he places the wrist tape on top and glances around cursorily for the rest of Mike's things.
"-and then HHH came out. He congratulated Punk on the match... then said that R-Truth and Mike were fired."
John pauses from where he now stands, going through Mike's suit, and glances over, surprised. "Truth too huh? Well, can't say I'll miss him but damn... then what?"
"They rushed HHH in the back, where we were all sitting. It just fell into this big brawl and HHH started yelling to kick them out of his building... so, we did."
"Huh. The things I miss out on," he mumbles, finally uttering "aha!" as he lays the suit down carefully once more. He then turns to Alex. "I need you to run these out to Mike."
Riley looks up, blinking as he reaches out for Mike's rental keys and a hotel key card. "Oh. Why don't you take them to him...?"
"Because I'm so beyond the right mood to see him right now, it's not even funny." John sighs. "You'll handle him better than me, and hell, it might cheer him up to see you. Just go, Alex. I'll bring his things to our hotel room and we'll figure out a way to get them to him soon. Alright?"
Alex nods, pocketing the keys. "I'll be back soon. I'm not sure who's still at that exit so I'm going to have to go around."
"Beware Truth too," he warns needlessly, watching as the younger man walks off purposely.
He ends up circling the building, taking the opposite exit from where Mike and Truth had been thrown out. As he nears it from the outside, he overhears Truth rambling pointlessly on, sounding even crazier than usual. Miz is worryingly silent and Alex peers out between some bushes at the two, sitting in the dimly lit area outside of the arena, still in their wrestling gear.
He considers throwing a rock to knock Truth out but eventually disregards that idea, another one coming to him. "SPIDER OH MY GOD!" he yells loudly, ducking back behind the bushes as Truth flips out and starts looking all around.
"What was that? Where-?"
Mike too looks around, his lips twitching. "I think it came from the parking lot, Truth. You better go help that person out," he urges.
"You're right, Miz! That spider's gon' get got," his tag team partner declares, rushing off in the opposite direction of where Alex is holed up.
Once he's out of sight, Alex pulls himself free of the bushes and joins Mike. "Hey, man, you ok?" he asks quietly, taking in how downtrodden his former mentor looks.
"Don't I look ok?" he snarks, sighing. "What are you doing out here, Alex?"
"John and I are taking care of your things. We can't get everything to you yet, but when you can get away from Truth for more than a minute, we will." Mike stares at him for a long moment before nodding. "In the meantime, do you think you can explain to Truth how you got these things?" He holds up the car keys and keycard and smiles softly as Mike's eyes light up like he's just seen water for the first time in days while stranded in a desert.
"Yes! I'll think up something," he nods furiously, taking both things from Alex. "Thank you, I was thinking we'd be forced to walk around Cleveland like this all night."
"Well, the fangirls would love that," Alex comments. "I'm surprised you didn't go to your parents, though. They'd help, wouldn't they?"
Mike takes a deep, shuddery breath. Even Alex, with clothes on, realizes it's chilly out tonight, and here Mike is in simple wrestling trunks. "They would but, Alex, I got fired in front of them... I didn't want to see them yet." He looks away. "Don't tell him this but... I think John was right... I'm not sure things would've gone this far if I wasn't involved with Truth. He kind of has a way of warping things... I was starting to feed into that mindset, I think. I've never... been like this before. I used to be a smarter competitor than this..." He muses over it briefly and shakes his head. "You should go, he won't spend the rest of the night searching for that spider. Thanks for the keys."
Alex nods. "Sure, man. And hey, you've been fired before, right? You figured out how to get rehired then... I have no doubt you'll figure out something here too, Mike. Call me if you need anything."
"I will." As Alex wanders off, Mike watches morosely, walking backwards to the half-wall that he and Truth had been sitting on. Sucking in a deep breath, he waits for his spider-hunting tag partner to return so they can go to the rental car and return to the hotel, where clothes and a warm bed is waiting, for perhaps the last time.