John's plan for all three of them to relax and recharge a little bit ends early Wednesday when Alex has to leave to handle his NXT responsibilities. They drop him off at the airport before returning to Miz's house, stuffing the leftover food and drinks from the park into the fridge before going to the living room.
"Find something," Miz urges, tossing the remote his way before sprawling out across his couch. He still feels deliciously lazy after the previous day spent in the park, a sensation he usually doesn't allow himself to endulge in much if at all, and even is patient enough to focus on whatever weird thing Morrison ultimately finds to watch.
Still flipping through channels, John glances over at him. "How long is it until Wrestlemania, anyway?"
Miz makes a thoughtful face before shrugging. "Something like forty-five days, I think. Why?"
"Just curious." They stare at the flashing colors from the TV for a few more minutes before John speaks up again. "Bet the locker room's starting to get that buzz going, huh?" He can't help but feel a little odd, this being the first 'Mania he's not to be involved in in years.
"Yeah, I guess." He looks over, catching sight of the slightly worried look on Morrison's face and shrugs, well-aware of how lackluster his response had sounded. "A year ago I knew I was going to be main eventing 'Mania. I don't even have an inkling this year yet."
Morrison sits in silence for a moment, watching the TV for a little while longer before sitting straighter, looking over at him. "Well, nothing's written in stone yet, right? There's still the Elimination Chamber... and who knows what'll happen in the month and a half after that. Never say never, yeah?"
"Yeah," he murmurs. He watches as John resumes flipping through the TV channels, neither inspired to stand and turn a lamp on as the daylight slowly begins to recede, the gleam of the TV lighting the room up to fill the spreading darkness. "Do you miss it?" As soon as the question slips out of his mouth, he winces, unsure what the reaction to such an impulsive question could be.
"WWE? Sometimes," John shrugs easily. As Mike relaxes, glad at not being yelled at, he puts the remote down and sighs. "I miss competition sometimes; Manila was good and easy, but there's just a vibe with WWE that I'm not sure you can get anywhere else. I hate the politics and crap, but... hmm." After a pause, he nudges Mike. "I miss annoying you more often too."
Mike rolls his eyes, chuckling. "Whatever. You still annoy me plenty."
John smirks back, before flipping through more channels. "God, there is nothing on right now..." Mike laughs, absorbing the pure familiarity of the moment, how often they had lived this during their initial partnership.
By the time he has to go back on the road that weekend, Mike is more relaxed than he's been in months, if not years, and he looks ahead to Elimination Chamber. He can't help but be a little anxious because it is one, if not the, of the most brutal matches in WWE history but Morrison's words keep echoing in his mind, a flicker of hope growing as he thinks more about it. With five other men in the match, Punk's chances are fewer; of course Miz's is also but he somehow feels a little more hopeful about his chances against Punk's.
His chances remain looking good up to the final few moments of the match, his heart racing, senses becoming hyperaware as Jericho gets kicked clear out of the chamber, hits the cameraman and is proven unable to continue. It leaves him and Punk left, and he thinks he has it after hitting the Skullcrushing finale, until Punk somehow kicks out, regroups and hits the GTS, eliminating Miz and taking away his hope in one fell swoop.
He stumbles up the ramp, grimacing in pain as he makes his way to the locker rooms. Alex looks up as he enters, smiling sympathetically. "You ok, Mike?"
"I'm great," he sighs, dropping down next to the younger man. "God, I was so close." He leans forward as A-Ri pats him on the back, unable to think of anything appropriate to say to that.
After a few minutes, Alex stands. "Come on, Mike. Let's get out of here. Maybe things will look better in the morning."
By the morning, he doesn't feel a whole lot better about the result from the night before but when they arrive at the arena, the early announcement is that that night there will be a second chance match, the losers from the Elimination Chamber match put in a battle royal for the #1 contendership to Punk's title. His chances are even worse than last night's match, but he tries his best, just to be second eliminated. He stumbles to the back, alternating between annoyed and disappointed, and makes his way to the locker room, feeling deja vu from the night before. Thankfully this time Alex remains quiet, his gaze switching from Miz to the TV and back. They watch quietly until the elimination mess at the end, both men wincing as Wade Barrett begins thrashing around in pain, his arm visibly injured. Dolph and Truth also caught up in the nonsense, Alex glances over at his former mentor. "Guess it's a good thing you weren't out there."
"Yeah," he says with a disturbed look on his face. Injuries come and go with wrestling, always have and always will, but so many competitors had fallen in the past few months that a growing sober feeling passes through the locker room with each one, every guy realizing anew just how easily their careers could get derailed or stopped completely at the drop of a hat.
These thoughts keep playing through Mike's mind and he takes the opportunity the next night to appear on Smackdown, biting through his tongue as he congratulates Daniel Bryan, jealousy bleeding through him as he looks at his former NXT rookie holding that World title up egotistically. He half mockingly suggests they form a tag team when Sheamus interrupts and dares to steal Mike's microphone. What follows is confusing and rushed, Daniel attacking Sheamus as he and Mike exchange words before escaping from the ring. Still angry from Sheamus' various slights towards him in the last few minutes, Miz lunges forward and attacks Sheamus, just to get tossed out of the ring. He lands hard, staring up at the lights dazedly.
He's just struggled to his feet, trying to catch his breath, when Teddy Long comes out and throws him and Sheamus into a match against each other. He's not prepared, far from it, but even so he comes close a time or two, until Sheamus catches him, slamming him hard onto the mat, crushing him. He lays there for a minute, his eyes closed. Three losses in as many days... He punches the mat, wincing. Something has to give here...