Despite how he'd gotten the upperhand on Cesaro the past few weeks, capping it off by tossing the Swiss back into the ring during his match on Main Event, it sadly doesn't hold for the Royal Rumble; he loses his US title opportunity in the preshow and then goes on to get eliminated from the Rumble itself within five minutes. Despite his awesome number of 28, he just couldn't last, still sore from his earlier match.

Stumbling back up the ramp, breathless and disappointed, he pushes past the curtain and releases a dull breath, expecting Alex to greet him. But the shoes he sees in front of him aren't Alex's- they're feminine and... familiar. He closes his eyes, aware of what this means, and slowly lifts his gaze up until he's peering into AJ's face. He'd seen her way-too-long makeout session with Dolph prior to the Rumble and figures she's here to gloat about how long her boyfriend's lasted in the match, compared to how short he remained in there. But she doesn't look proud, she doesn't even look amused. She just looks pensive. He struggles to catch his breath and strains out, "What do you want, AJ?"

Big E. is nearby, as always, but he's stoic and unmoving as she approaches the Awesome One, resting a hand on his upper arm. "I just wanted to talk. I know... you probably didn't hear me on Monday." As he frowns at her, brow furrowing in confusion, she smiles tentatively. "I know that you had nothing to do with what Cena did to Dolph and I. I said it to you on Monday when you were asleep, and I want to say it again here, now. When I know you can hear me. I'm so sorry."

He stares at her in shock, not sure what to say in response to this, when they both freeze- Lilian Garcia's announcement that Dolph Ziggler's just been eliminated echoes through the arena. Mike wants to laugh but AJ looks both annoyed and distressed as she quickly moves away from Miz just before an angry Dolph storms through the curtain and kicks at a nearby table, the girl immediately rushing to him to console her boyfriend. All humor dissipating, Mike shakes his head and walks away, seeing no point in hanging around to see that demonstration of their relationship. Alex is nearby, watching, and he quickly moves to walk alongside Mike. "You did that?"

Alex sighs, a look of sympathy in his eyes, as he drapes an arm around his friend's shoulders. "With some help from Morrison. She needed to have her eyes opened, Mike. You'd been through enough, and that was the only way I could think to do it."

He knows this is true, he just hates that it took so much for her to accept that he'd not had any prior knowledge of Cena's plans. "Thanks," he mumbles, making a note to call John and thank him as well.

Raw goes as well as he can expect it to after a nothing showing like Rumble was for him. Antonio Cesaro's match is first up and, lucky lucky him, he gets placed in a special guest referee match against Orton. Vickie, in one of her many moods following Dolph and AJ throwing their relationship in her face last week, places Miz in the referee role and he tries to play it evenly down the middle despite his many issues with both men. In the end, Cesaro pushes Mike and that does it- all neutral territory, no pun intended, goes to the wayside as he gets in the US champion's face and distracts him until Orton is up and in place behind him for the RKO and three count.

He then can't help himself as, making a big show of helping Cesaro to his feet, positions him just so and sweeps him into the Skullcrushing Finale, a small bit of comeuppance for what had happened the day before between them and during this match. He's just gotten out of his ref gear and into street clothes when Alex comes in, head tilted as he talks on the phone to someone. "Smackdown's in San Diego," he comments, grinning when Mike glances at him, curious. "Sure, we could probably stop in, John. You're not sick of us already though?" His eyes soften as he drops down next to his former NXT pro and nods. "Yeah, I understand. Hey, Mike's here. Wanna-?"

Mike nods and takes the phone a second later as Alex leans against the wall and watches the monitor for a bit, half-listening to his side of the conversation. "Hey, man."

"Hey. Heard about what happened at the Rumble, that sucks."

"Yeah. Well, it could've been worse, I guess." He smiles mirthlessly. "Hey, Alex told me that you helped convince AJ I didn't have anything to do with Cena's nonsense. Thanks."

"I wasn't sure what he was involving me in at the time, but I'm glad it worked out for you, Mike."

"Well, she's still with Dolph," he admits. "But at least she doesn't seem to be angry with me anymore. Until, you know, her next mood change." He elbows Alex as he chuckles helplessly and rolls his eyes when his phone crackles at Morrison's amusement to that comment as well. "You both suck." However, before the conversation can continue much further, Mike's gaze shifts to the monitor and he pales.

The night before, Alberto Del Rio had retained his title after some quick thinking by Ricardo Rodriguez, who'd used duct tape to tangle Big Show's legs in the ropes so he couldn't get up for the ten count. Tonight, they were both paying for it as the giant had taped Del Rio's wrist to the bottom rope and was currently beating Ricardo down in front of him. "Damn," Alex breathes. Mike can tell when John senses something is wrong by their continued silence and turns his TV on, the echo from their monitor to his audible through the phones.

Once it finally ends with the ring announcer downed by the KO punch and Del Rio kicking and scrambling to free himself up until the last second when Big Show knocks him out as well with a forceful fist to the face, John releases a deep breath. "Holy hell. What brought all of that on?"

Mike distractedly explains the end of the night before's Last Man Standing match to him as he stands up and cards his fingers through his hair, lips pursed unhappily. In a way, he can understand Big Show's anger but Rodriguez being a mere ring announcer, and his having been on the other side of that, watching John or Alex getting decimated while unable to do anything about it for different reasons, causes him, for the first time ever, to truly feel for the Mexican aristocrat. "Hey, John, I gotta go. We'll talk later, huh?"

"Yeah, sure. Tell Alex bye."

"I will." As he hangs up and turns back to the monitor, it comes back from commercial and they watch a short clip of Del Rio being helped to the back. There's no sign of Ricardo in it and both Alex and Mike exchange uncomfortable glances. Not many trusted Alberto or Ricardo after so long of their being out for themselves, the recent change in them both taking awhile to catch on with the boys in the back- Mike still going through the same thing with his own recent change in attitude, as his alliance with Flair had been spat upon by so many- but Miz had teamed with Del Rio twice, and had a few conversations with Ricardo since, and he doesn't really doubt their sincerity. They all were struggling to be better, smarter, more honorable competitors, but after years of being one thing, yeah, it's a bit difficult to change. So after waiting for as long as he can without completely crawling out of his skin, he stands up. "Hey, I'm going to go for a walk. Do you wanna come?"

Alex smirks vaguely at him and nods towards the TV. "You gonna go to the trainer's office?"

Mike barely blinks. "I may walk by there." At Alex's chuckle he rolls his eyes. "Well, do you or not?"

"No, that's ok. I'll see you later."

"Alright." Clapping him on the shoulder, Mike leaves the room and wanders the halls a bit, cooling down until he passes by the trainer's office. Peeking in the partially opened door, he winces at finding Del Rio standing next to a cot, peering down at the still motionless Ricardo. His fingers are clenched against the sheet covering the surface so tight that his knuckles are white and his lips are pressed in a very thin line. Mike takes a hesitant step inside and immediately holds his hands up to show he means no harm when Alberto spins to glare suspiciously at him. "How is he?" he asks quietly.

The Mexican aristocrat shrugs before turning back to his friend. Miz slowly walks up alongside him and examines the pale features of the ring announcer, his lips twisting in sympathy. Before he can say anything, however, Alberto speaks up. "I told him everything would be fine. Five minutes later..." He huffs, his voice failing him briefly. "Five minutes later, I was caught in duct tape and he was getting knocked around by the Big Show. All I could do was watch. I failed him. Again." He gingerly rests a hand on Ricardo's shoulder and shakes his head, eyes looking suspiciously wet when Mike glances over at him. "Lo siento, mi amigo..."

Considering that Del Rio had taken two KO punches himself, Mike is amazed that he's up and standing this soon, but he knows better than to suggest that the older man sit down, knowing that it's an issue of pride and that he wouldn't want to leave Ricardo's side. "I doubt he sees it that way," he finally says, not sure if he should say anything, or if he's even saying the right things. When Del Rio looks over at him, he smiles wanly. "I was watching, man. I've been watching. I mean, we tag teamed those two times. It was enough. Do you honestly think, after everything, he would blame you for this? He's been by your side, loyal no matter what, for three years, despite how much of a jackass you were at times towards him. Even when he was brogue kicked by Sheamus, what was his main thought?"

Alberto closes his eyes. "To see the move banned."

"To protect you," Mike tells him. "The same for tonight. He didn't care that what you said earlier ended up being wrong- he knows this business, he knows things like this just... happen." Taking in the almost defeated look in Alberto's eyes, he decides to try another track. "So many times I've been unable to do anything while John Morrison or Alex Riley got hurt. And you know what? They're my best friends right now. I've failed them so many times, and they forgive me each time. Most of the time I probably didn't even deserve it, but they did, and I'm beyond thankful for that." He stares down at Ricardo, his eyes softening as he takes in the pained expression on the younger man's face even while unconscious. "If anything, Ricardo probably feels like he failed you."

This causes Del Rio's head to whip up and he looks almost murderous. "Never! He has never failed me. How dare you-"

"I'm not saying I think he did," Mike snaps back. "I'm saying he thinks he did. He tried shielding you, pleading Show away, and it didn't help. You both still ended up here."

Alberto freezes, digesting all of this. He'd been unconscious through what Mike had just described and it floors him. "He... did?" He groans and buries his face in his hands. "He could've left, he could've gotten himself to safety but he stayed to... to..."

"To protect you," he repeats, getting a good look at the bruises spanning Del Rio's right hand which had been so thoroughly taped to the ropes. Which he had obviously injured trying to get free to help his best friend. Miz sighs. "Because that's what friends do, right? They help each other out, no matter what." When Alberto doesn't even glance over at him, quietly leaning over and pressing his face to Ricardo's shoulder, mumbling in Spanish, Miz figures he's stayed long enough. He leaves silently and smiles half-heartedly when he finds Alex standing outside of the trainer's office. "Coming to check on me?"

"Something like that," he admits. "Come on." Instead of going back to the locker room and stewing over everything that's happened the past few days, they wander the building. They make fun of the diva's showgirl outfits and try not to think too much about Tensai in lingerie, even when they walk by him bashing his head against the wall, and cringe their way through the karaoke contest where Khali bungling HBK's entrance echoes through the halls despite there not being a monitor anywhere in the vincinity. Once they've had their fill of this show and all of its shenanigans, they turn to leave.

The exit is just past the trainer's office so Mike nudges Alex and peers inside once more, the younger man joining him in the doorway as they watch quietly. Ricardo is thankfully conscious by now, the two men taking up the one cot as Alberto supports his ring announcer, who is carefully running a wet paper towel across his employer's bruised wrist, taking off the remaining stickiness from the duct tape. Once that's done, he gently eases his wrist down onto a waiting ice pack and folds it around the discolored flesh, peering up at him with a sad look in his eye. "Is that alright, El Patron?"

"Si, gracias, Ricardo." Del Rio smiles at him, patting his face with his left hand.

Mike ducks back out of the room at that, tugging Alex with him as they continue on their way to the exit. "Looks like they're going to be alright," Alex says after a few moments.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I wouldn't really wanna be the Big Show right now." As he enters the car, peering over at Alex while he adjusts his seatbelt, his smile grows. No matter if others accept the changes in us or not, Del Rio and I are pretty damn lucky. True friendships in this business are so rare... but somehow he and I've both managed it. Considering everything, we'd probably be the last ones anyone would expect that for.

As he puts the car in drive, Alex turns to glance over at him. "What do you say we Skype with Morrison when we get back to the hotel?"

He chuckles, eyes gleaming. He'd just been thinking about the abrupt end to his phone conversation with Morrison earlier, and when he could possibly rectify that. "You read my mind, kid." Damn lucky indeed...