A/N: Thanks to Nina for help with this chapter!
Mike glares on mulishly. His Intercontinental title in hand, he's staring down his tag partner of the evening, face still throbbing from that kick that Cody had landed on him- accidentally, sure, but how careless! He had had plenty of time to stop...! "You cost us that match," he spits at the younger man, who looks about as angry as Miz is feeling.
"You should've just stayed down, I was trying to stop the pin!"
"And what? You end up tripping on your own two feet and I get pinned because I was waiting on you?" He sneers as Cody flushes, his fingers flexing at his side. "Watch yourself, kid. You do not want to go there with me. I learned a long time ago trust has no place in this business- of course I would be able to get myself out of a pin like that! I didn't need you!" Overwhelmed by anger, he pushes the younger man aside as he walks off.
"Oh yeah? Like you never trusted John Morrison or Alex Riley?" he spits out, not even flinching back as Miz rounds on him, his eyes dark with warning and disgust.
"You aren't half the man or competitor either Morrison or Riley are. Never act like your name deserves stated alongside theirs."
Cody laughs bitterly, rolling his eyes. "I would hope not! One was fired months ago, and the other... well, the other... hmm, I don't know, didn't he lose on Superstars again last night?"
Miz sneers at him, trying not to reveal just how deeply his words have dug into him. "When exactly is the last time you won a match again? Wasn't it around the time you won this baby?" He shifts the title belt upon his shoulder, smirking as Cody's narrowed eyes track it, an almost hungry look on his face. "Too bad you'll never touch it again..." Turning sharply on his heel, he leaves the bristling young man behind, smirking to himself as he goes.
Just any other night. Like many nights in the past. At least that's what it starts off like. But isn't that the way it goes?
Mike stares blankly at the Monday Night Raw match board and shakes his head, Alex Riley standing alongside him. "Are you kidding me? I mean, they have to be joking, right? Three hours to fill and... this is what we get?" He frowns at the very first match listed- his teaming with Antonio Cesaro vs Kofi Kingston and Truth. "I am getting so sick of tag matches." He looks sideways at Alex, biting his lip before he says anything else. At least I'm not getting completely overlooked, he reminds himself, dropping an arm around Alex's shoulders before dragging him back towards the locker room.
"So you think Truth will try anything?" he asks after a moment, scuffing his shoes on the tile, slowing them both down.
"I doubt it, but it's possible, I guess. Hopefully Lil' Jimmy will distract him," Mike rolls his eyes, resting his title on the bench before sitting down next to it. "Heh. Ugh." He scrubs at his eyes, slowly going about getting ready for the match. "I'm not even sure who my opponent for this Sunday will be," he mumbles, pulling his boots on as Alex glances from him to the TV, where CM Punk and Bret Hart are currently arguing.
"Rey again?"
He shrugs. "It's possible. Unless he gets injured in the next six days." Smirking, he sits down, wrist tape in hand. There's always the chance that it'll be Rhodes too, he thinks, reflecting on their confrontation in the back during Smackdown. "Ok, time for me to go," he sighs, still dreading this tag team match as he pats Alex on the back before heading out.
"Good luck," Alex calls after him as he pushes the locker room door open, the commercials echoing from monitors scattered here and there.
He casts a dismissive glance at the US champion and Aksana waiting nearby the gorilla position before turning his attention back to his brilliantly white title, smirking when his music starts. Unfortunately his bad luck with tag matches continue and, despite Truth barely reacting out of the ordinary towards him despite their easily combustible history, he and Cesaro still lose. He storms back up the ramp, almost twitching with anger as he goes back through the motions, pulling his clothes back on and throwing his scattered wrestling gear and everything else back into his bag.
The only thing that keeps him from grabbing Alex and leaving early is the knowledge that Rhodes and Mysterio has a match later, his calculating mind working through different outcomes for this Sunday. Almost two hours later, he walks through the solemn hallways, keeping his eyes diverted from distracted colleagues and techs, even his focus split as he watches the end of the match from the gorilla position, rolling his eyes as Cody wins- his own words from Smackdown coming back to mock him.
Taking the opportunity as Rey lays motionless on the mat, he runs down and attacks the masked superstar, moving fluidly despite the dressy wear he is currently clothed in. He's completely forgotten about Rhodes still being out there until he's grabbed under the arm and neck, roughly maneuvered over to crash into the mat, left to writhe around in his now-wrinkled clothing. Slams a fist on the mat as Cody stands over him, full of confidence and ego, dropping the Intercontinental title over his chest. That's not how I expected that to go, he thinks through a wheeze, hand instinctively going for the belt. "Damn..."
He makes his way slowly back to the backstage area, once more overwhelmed by how quiet and subdued everything in the back is. People are not rushing around as they always are, working desperately to get things done during the broadcast. The wrestlers scattered around are quiet, most looking worried or scared. He's about to go find Alex, encourage the kid to leave, when he sees a familiar form leaning between two trunks, almost completely hidden in the shadows. He sighs, heading her way. "AJ?"
Head whipping up, she looks at him, eyes wide and tear-filled. "Oh. Mike. Is... is there something you need?" She wipes quickly at her eyes and turns to face him, releasing a deep, shuddering breath as he joins her, rubbing a thumb over her cheek to brush away what she'd missed.
He shakes his head slowly, knowing- for once thinking beyond his own motivation to get her affections- that this is not the time to further his agenda, or discuss what had just happened in the ring between he, Cody and Mysterio. "Are you ok?" Her face falls, her already-questionable grasp of control failing before him, and, possibly for the first time since all of this began, it hits him: She may be general manager but underneath it all, she's really just a 25 year old girl who'd had her heart jerked around by three different guys for months just to be thrown into a position of power that she probably barely has an idea on what to do with, or how exactly to handle it when things go wrong... "Is..." He licks his lips awkwardly. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Her eyes gleam wetly in the faint light behind him as she blinks up at him, tilting her head. He's not sure what to expect when she finally asks quietly, "Can you just... hold me? F-for a minute?"
All former thoughts and opinions wiped clean from his mind for now, he nods slightly, stepping closer to her. As she meets him halfway, he wraps his arms around her, struck anew by just how small, vulnerable she truly is, the top of her head barely reaching his shoulder. "It'll be alright," he whispers soothingly, fingers stroking down the soft brown hair cascading down her back, her hand curling around his shirt as she clings to him, trembling. "It will." They stand like that a long time, his eyes closed as he waits for her to calm down.
He knows he can't promise any such thing, really, but something in him just dwells on the fact that everything will work out alright in the end, the deeply hidden optimist within him refusing to believe any other end result.