Eva- Thank you for the review!
After a night spent out with Flair and Alex, temporarily putting everything- AJ being with Dolph, and his small thoughtless faux pas with Morrison- behind him, Mike wakes up on Tuesday with the hangover from hell. Despite the throbbing behind his temples and the nauseous feeling that won't quite go away no matter how still he stays, he knows he has to face things. Even if it's on a limited basis.
Fumbling for his phone, he grunts and finally locates it in the pockets of the jeans he'd apparently fallen asleep in, staring blurrily at the screen. It's barely 8 AM in whatever part of Texas they're in currently, which means 6 for Morrison over in California. He groans and, after a lot of false starts, finally finds his text feature and begins to type. Hey, are we ok? Friday was a stupid slip of the tongue, I didn't mean anything by it. He squints at it, hoping there's no typos hidden in the barely readable letters that fill his screen as he sends it. Once he's maybe 75% certain it sent, his hand collapses to his side and he sighs, staring at the ceiling in a half-doze.
How much time has passed before it beeps again, he's not sure, but his vision is a little clearer when he lifts the phone up and stares blankly at it. Yeah, Mike, we're fine. I... well, was equal parts busy and not wanting to talk about it right then. Didn't mean to make you worry this long, I just want to concentrate on the things I can do, you know?
He gets it, and he says as much in his reply back to his former tag partner, relieved when things then seem to calm down between them and John's responses fall back into the usual easygoing, mocking tone they usually have. Not long into the back and forth text messages, he realizes that even his headache feels better, smiling slightly.
While you're in California next week, you should come by. Bring Alex. We'll go to the beach or something. Maybe I'll try you two out on my fitness DVDs.
He reads this with a faint gleam in his eye. His smile turns into an honest, wide grin. Oh please, I'd kill those things in five minutes.
Liars aren't allowed in the Palace of Wisdom, Mike, you know this.
His good mood from straightening half of his problems out on Tuesday fades away quickly come Wednesday, when Randy Orton vs Antonio Cesaro is interrupted by The Shield. Despite only being out there in a commentary capacity, Mike still remembers The Shield's brutal attack against him during his lie detector test on CM Punk and he gets involved just to get beat down as well and left laying, his ribs throbbing along with the rest of him after a spear from Roman Reigns.
Orton is spitting angry as trainers and the on-call doctor looks them over, trying to help them out of the ring. "I didn't want your help!" he suddenly yells at Mike, grimacing away as a hand presses too close to his own injuries, finally staggering away from the group of people trying to assist him. "Leave me alone."
Mike watches blankly as he forces his way up the ramp on his own, hand pressed to his side as trainers shake their head at him and turn to assist the Most Must-See Superstar, who allows it. His head is throbbing again, and the room is spinning, and he's relieved for their help. Eyes still locked on Orton's slow, stubborn progress, he mumbles, "Yeah, you're welcome. Jackass."
Outside of remaining anger from The Shield's attack, he feels better- his ribs were luckily only minorly bruised and he's cleared to compete on Smackdown. After a nothing match against Primo, Miz sighs into his fist and half-watches a replay of the Fiesta Del Rio that had started the show off, remembering grimly how Big E. Langston had looked at Ricardo Rodriguez like he might pull something. And, considering that Ziggler currently is holding the briefcase that he could cash in against Del Rio at any time, it would only take one wrong glance from the ring announcer for their enforcer to grab him and do to him what he'd done to Mike only a few weeks prior, his back still aching from time to time because of that.
He considers warning the ring announcer away from doing anything to antagonize the trio but also knows that, in this business, warnings can only do so much. Attacks can come at any time, any place, whether you expect them or not, and sometimes there just isn't enough in the world to prepare for them. Like the original attack from The Shield against himself.
He looks up in time to catch sight of AJ Lee, lingering behind an oblivious Dolph Ziggler as he prepares for his match. Their eyes lock for only a second before Mike turns and walks off, disinterested in getting involved in that particular level of crazy tonight. He turns at the last second and enters the nearest locker room, relieved to find Alex in there. Sitting down next to him, he idly glances at the TV screen and sighs as the tag team match starts, the odd couple of Del Rio and Sheamus working together against Big Show and Ziggler.
As AJ loses it upon Big E getting ejected from ringside and storms into the ring, screaming as she tends to do when at her emotional worst, he wonders if, perhaps, his slight from moments ago had incited part of this, watching with a mixture of amusement and exhaustion as the girl also is kicked from ringside. His supposition is all but proven correct when the locker room door slams open a few minutes later, a few of the guys exclaiming in shock as AJ forces her way inside and stands, chest heaving and hands clenched into fists at her side, somehow looking small even as she glares down at Mike. "This is all your fault," she sneers at him, eyes shining with what he tries telling himself is anger.
He doesn't move, doesn't say a word, thinking that his voice would sound as dull and empty as he feels if he should, straining desperately to not look up at her. Even acknowledging her presence in the hall had been a mistake, he knows, and he won't repeat it here.
"You're not going to say anything?" she demands and he notices out of the corner of his eye that her hand's trembling. "You're not going to admit to it? That you've been steadily ruining this year for me?" She laughs, "You probably don't even care. Or you've been doing it on purpose." She sucks in a greedy breath of air and releases it so roughly that it sounds painful. "Not even warning me that Cena was planning on doing... that... to Dolph's and my toast... and ignoring me ever since! I don't know why I care!"
Before he can do or say anything, her trembling hand slaps across his face, the sound echoing through the room, and Alex leaps to his feet in surprise. "Hey!" Mike's hand on his arm stops him, everyone in the room suddenly uncomfortably aware that Big E. is lurking nearby, just waiting for an opportunity to put his hands once more on Miz, or anyone else who dares disturb AJ. Thankfully she leaves then, Big E. following behind like the faithful monster that he is, and Alex turns to Mike. "Are you ok?" He examines the faint red mark on his cheekbone and winces.
"Never been better," he grouses, closing his eyes. He'd tried giving the girl space, despite reluctantly coming to terms on his feelings for her, but apparently it'd backfired and made things worse for her. No matter what I do, I only seem to dig myself into a further hole... He looks up and finds everyone in the room staring at him. "What?!" he snaps, feeling only a little better as they all quickly go back to doing whatever the hell it was they were doing before the latest chapter in the AJ-and-Miz saga entertained them.
When they finally arrive in California for the week's events leading up to the Rumble, Mike finally feels like he can breathe a little easier. It's his homestate, he always feels like he can be more himself here, and... even better, John greets him and Alex outside of the airport, looking healthy and tan and happy. "Holy hell," Mike shakes his head, not expecting this. "What are you doing here?"
Smirking, the Shaman of Sexy claps both men on the back before leaning against the hood of his car, eyes glinting behind his sunglasses. "Figured I'd come, say hi. See if you two were up to some beach time."
Exchanging glances, Mike and Alex agree eagerly. "Yes!" Despite just leaving Florida a short while ago, there's something about the California beaches that stay with Miz, call to him even long after he's gone, and he's pretty sure it's mostly because it's just home. They gleefully spend the rest of Saturday there, John traipsing along the rocks like he's never done so before, and Mike even joins him for some of it, not even mad- much- when he and Alex silently conspire against him just to splash him from both sides with cold, bitter sea water. He sputters and wipes at his eyes until he can see again and then it's on, the three of them falling into a juvenile splash fight that leaves them all soaked and chilled, the weather in California still a little on the bizarre side- but none of them seem to mind, just glad to be at the same place together again.
Once they tire of this, they rush back to Morrison's apartment and find dry, warm clothes to slip into and Mike groans, collapsing onto the floor next to his couch. "Why is it chilly here? It's not supposed to be chilly. It's California!"
"Clearly it wanted you to remember how it was growing up in Ohio," John cracks, barely looking up from where he'd sprawled out on his couch even when Mike blindly swats at him and lands a good smack on his shoulder. Alex joins them last, his hair still slicked across his forehead with ocean water, and the two Dirt Sheet cohosts throw pillows at him, which he picks idly out of midair and uses to cushion his body as he settles on the floor near Mike.
"Ugh, why didn't I think of that!" As John and Alex mock and tease him, the former WWE champion smiles. Forget California, he thinks after a moment. This is home.
Raw. Beat the Clock challenge. Mike stares blankly at the white board and shakes his head, biting his lip. Another match against Dolph Ziggler. Winner of the challenge gets to pick what number they want to be in the Rumble. It's ridiculous, he's amazed. Something like that... well. It could make the match ridiculously easy. He wants to win, so badly. But AJ and Big E. will be watching, and after Friday, well...
Trying to shake these thoughts from his head, he takes a deep breath and stretches, in an attempt to prepare himself for what Dolph will bring. He and Alex both had tried their hands at Morrison's fitness DVDs and Mike was still feeling sore from it, as if the beat down from The Shield last Wednesday hadn't been enough. He sighs and closes his eyes, listening as his music begins to play. The match itself goes for awhile, too long for a Beat the Clock challenge, and no lie, Mike tries his hardest to do what needs to be done, but AJ's presence on the outside is a nonstop distraction and eventually Big E. gets involved, leaving him struggling but unable to do anything as Dolph hits a Zigzag and takes the victory.
He stares dispassionately at the ceiling, trying to blink the stars away, as he senses more than sees AJ and Dolph celebrating yet another victory against him nearby. When he finally makes it back to his feet, they're gone and he's left to trudge up the ramp alone, trying not to dwell on the loss. I'm still in the Rumble, I still have a chance, no matter what number I'm at. It's fine. Despite his attempts at bolstering himself emotionally, his energy fades quickly and he has no real choice but to take a seat on the nearest trunk, his body trembling. Between The Shield, and Antonio Cesaro, and this whole mess with AJ, Dolph and Big E, he feels run ragged and even the hard surface of the trunk feels good underneath him.
He sprawls out and stares blankly up at the shadowy beams crisscrossing overhead until he finally dozes off, even the general sounds of the arena unable to disturb his body's desperate need for rest.
On the other side of the arena, Alex walks around, looking here and there. He's been searching for Mike since the end of his Beat the Clock challenge, needing to see that he's alright after another loss to Ziggler, but there's no sign of him. He's about to walk past one hallway when he sees the back of AJ Lee as she lurks, head tilted to the side while the obvious shadow of Big E. Langston stands nearby, watching and waiting for her to do something. He somehow just knows and ventures closer, catching sight of Mike sprawled out on a nearby trunk, utterly still. His worry growing, A-Ri moves past them and, trying to ignore them, approaches his former mentor. He's greatly relieved to find him breathing easily, just asleep, and hesitantly turns back to the two lingering in the shadows. "Do you need something?"
Big E. seems to take exception to his tone and takes a menacing step closer but AJ stops him with a cool hand on his wrist, lips curling up into a weird little grin as she stares up at Alex. "You're Mike's best friend, aren't you?"
"One of them."
Her eyes glint as she approaches him, circling him like a cheetah would her prey. "Did he tell you Cena's New Years Eve plans as well?"
He takes a breath. "Be impossible for him to do that seeing he didn't know what Cena was going to do either."
She pauses midstep, before continuing on her way. "What?"
"He tells me everything, he would definitely have told me about this if he'd known. But I was with him when it happened; he was disgusted and angry, worried about how you would react. He had no idea what Cena was planning." She stares at him, probably trying to deduce his credibility, and he shakes his head. "It's ate him alive the last few weeks that you didn't believe him when he said he had no idea. Trust me, if he had known, you wouldn't have been in the crossfire that night."
A strange look comes over her face and she hesitates, glancing back at Mike once more.
"He didn't tell John Morrison either," he offers as a last ditch effort, hoping that he's not overstepping his bounds by telling her these things. "I can prove it to you." When she only continues to stare, he swallows and reaches for his phone, hesitantly dialing the number on speaker phone. Hopefully he'll answer...
Luckily enough, he does so on ring two. "Hey, A-Ri, what's going on? Miss me already?"
He chuckles weakly and sighs. "Hey, John, I'm here with AJ Lee. I just want to clarify with you- Mike never spoke to you about what Cena was planning for New Years Eve, did he?"
The older man sounds confused and more than a little reluctant to answer himself, well aware of Mike's recent issues with the girl since forcing every detail from Mike over the weekend. "No, he didn't," he says quietly.
"And has he ever said that he knew what was going on with all of that?"
"No, he said he had no clue."
Sighing in relief, Alex nods. "Thanks, man. I'll call you tomorrow."
"Ok, bye."
Hanging up, he turns back to the girl. "See, Mike's two closest friends had no idea- you have to know if he'd have known, we would've been the next two he told. Especially John, why not, if he needed to tell someone, tell the one person who's not even in the business? It's not like he could've stopped it even if he'd wanted to."
She glances up at him, her eyes reflecting sadness and regret as she turns slowly away from them, lifting a hand up to stop Big E. as he attempts to follow her. Alex holds his breath as she ventures closer to the trunk where Mike still lays, each movement as skittish as a rabbit's. She regards him for long moments before climbing up next to him and peering down at him as he sleeps. Straddling him, she lowers herself until they're nose to nose and breathes in quietly, freeing one hand from where it's bracing her against the trunk enough to run it through his short hair before pressing a soft, slow kiss to his lips. The moment somehow seems to both go by quickly and last forever as Alex watches, until finally she pulls away and shifts, her mouth resting by his ear as she whispers something that looks like an apology.
That done, she pulls herself up and away, hopping off of the edge of the trunk with a pinched look on her face like it pains her to do so. As she and Big E. leaves silently, Alex ventures over to Mike's side and stares down at him, taking in the small smile on his lips. Once her footsteps are long gone, he swats Mike gingerly on the knee and steps back as the host of MizTV jerks up and looks around, a dazed look on his face. "Hey. You wanna see how the final Raw before the Rumble ends?"
Mike blinks up at him in confusion for a few moments before collecting himself. "Sure, yeah." Running his fingers through his hair, he grimaces and smacks his lips together. "Alex? Was someone messing with me while I was on that trunk?"
"Not at all, why would you think that?" he wonders, an expression somewhere between a smile and a grimace on his face as he walks ahead of him. If you only knew.
Mike mumbles tiredly. "I dunno, I just feel... kinda weird." But in retrospect, Mike decides after a few moments, weird isn't the word for it. He feels... better, somehow. Lighter. Like something he'd been dreaming about had eased his conscience, left him feeling less horrible about the assumption AJ had come to. It's this that fuels his path as he storms out during the annual pre-Rumble brawl and tears it apart to the best of his ability with all of the other superstars flooding the ring.
The Rumble is in six days. He's ready.