Miz wanders quietly through the hospital halls, head tilted as he half-heartedly listens to a nurse talking about things he can barely focus on. Alex's duffel weighs his hand down and he wonders what he'll find at the other end of this walk, Ricardo's room getting closer and closer with each second. When she points out the right curtained off room to him, he nods at her and walks slowly inside, blinking against the muted lights. He peeks around the curtain and watches for a moment, Alex sitting in a corner of the room while Alberto leans against the bed, focus thoroughly on his best friend. He steadies himself with a deep breath before entering the rest of the way, quietly clearing his throat. "Hey, guys," he says lowly, not sure if Ricardo's asleep or not.
Alex and Alberto both look up, Ricardo following suit a moment later, looking blurry eyed but aware enough as Mike rests the bag at Alex's feet, trying not to stare at the injured man's foot. "Thanks, Mike," his former rookie says, "but I tried texting you a few minutes ago, guess you didn't receive it."
"What's up?"
Alberto speaks up, his gaze returning to the morose face of his ring announcer. "I placed a few calls and managed to cancel my appearances for the next few days. I'm going home with him after all."
"I told you you didn't have to do that," Ricardo murmurs, his voice hoarse from all of the painful screaming he'd done earlier in the evening. "El Patron..."
"I'm not letting you go through this alone, Ricardo. I'll reconsider for Raw, maybe, but you need me more this week. Amigo, don't fight me on this, por favor. It's already done." He pats his face. "I want to be there for you, as you have been for me so many times in the past."
Ricardo sniffs but says nothing, just watching his employer through wet eyes. Mike takes that as their cue, clapping Alex on the shoulder as he takes a few steps towards the bed. "Hey, Ricardo, we're heading out now." He hesitates, taking in the exhausted brown eyes locked on him and smiles mirthlessly. "Hang in there, alright?"
"I will," he sighs, Del Rio's hand steady on his arm as Mike nods.
"See you soon." Alex echoing with his own farewells after collecting his bag, they leave the room, Mike's lips held in a grim line.
"I hope Jericho makes Swagger pay this Friday," the younger man says suddenly, Mike glancing over at him.
"You took the words out of my mouth, kid," he mumbles, nudging Alex. "Come on, let's get out of here, if I hang around much longer I'm gonna scream."
"Yep, I know the feeling."
The next few days pass quietly, Mike and Alex exchanging glances as they read over tweets Del Rio sends out about what he intends to do in respond to the attack against his ring announcer early Tuesday morning, and various tweets Ricardo himself sends out through the week. Commentary on Main Event devolves into another face off between he and Wade, Mike amused as he sends the British superstar floundering out of the ring to avoid further injury at his hands. As frustrated as he is, he's well aware that this business as a whole is a waiting game- title opportunities, revenge, everything... takes time.
When Smackdown rolls around, Mike's not surprised to find that Del Rio had opted to skip the show completely and remain with Ricardo, helping him through the beginning stages of his recovery, watching with a grimace as the evening kicks off with, of all things, Dolph vs Kofi with AJ on commentary. Alex, sitting nearby, seems to be waiting for something to happen, as if expecting Mike to throw the remote that he's currently pressing to his lips through the monitor they're watching, but he just sits and stews as she goes on and on about how perfect her relationship with Ziggler is. It finally ends with Dolph winning after some shenanigans from Big E, and Alex glances over at him. "Are you alright?"
"Never better," he shrugs, not looking Alex in the eye as he says it. With Wrestlemania looming closer, it's easy to pretend at times that everything is normal, that he's not left with an ache deep inside for everything he'd failed at snowballing larger and larger within him, but sometimes... He shakes his head, trying not to dwell on such things. Either way, Jericho's match against Swagger is nearing and he looks forward to it with a certain vicious need, his words to Jericho from Monday still lurking on the tip of his tongue. Despite his professional focus temporarily being on Barrett, he personally would like to be the one taking out Jack Swagger for his actions, but the matches hadn't shook out that way so he figures witnessing Jericho doing it would be the second best thing.
Alex is right there along with him, both men watching the match with tense stares, Mike's smirk growing as Jericho gets in quite a few good blows, sending Swagger against the barricade wall, it seeming like victory's almost in his grasp when... Fandango interrupts and ruins everything, causing Jericho the match. Miz curses, his eyes narrowing at the egotistical wrestler dancing on the monitor.
"That sucks," Alex says finally, once the show has gone to commercial. "He was so close, too."
"Yes, he was. Dammit." Mike presses his fingers into his eyes and shakes his head, aggravation growing. No matter what, he has a match against Antonio Cesaro and Barrett is on commentary, despite claiming to anyone that'll listen- which is normally no one other than the members of 3MB, of course- that he's beyond done with Miz. Mike holds his own against the strong Swiss and wins, smirking at Barrett as he holds in the Figure Four. Soon, he promises, his expression telling it all as Wade glares at him, unnerved.
The weekend passes, Raw looming closer, Mike staring at the calendar with a bemused smile on his face as he listens to Morrison's faint breathing on the other end of the phone. "I can't believe Mania's so close again. Time's been flying, man." John hums in agreement and Mike releases a soft breath. I can't believe this'll be the second Mania without you in the company, he thinks, allowing himself to briefly slip once more into that vision of how things would be currently if his manipulations with AJ had panned out months back.
"Do you think you'll get an opportunity against Barrett at it?" he finally asks, snapping Mike out of his thoughts.
"I'm going to try," he nods. "I wouldn't be adverse to holding the Intercontinental title again." He smiles wanly, recalling that it had been being Intercontinental champion that had made him think he had a chance at having any kind of pull with AJ in the first place. "So what are you up to?"
"I've got this match against ROH's champion on April 20th, it's a free iPPV thing. You should check it out. Also have a few others things I'm working on. You know, keeping busy with OOYM."
"Yeah. If I get some time that day, I'll try to remember to watch," he offers, knowing that weekends can be notoriously busy, even in the lull that seems to proceed Wrestlemania. He's just glad to hear that John still hasn't completely given up on competing, even after all of this time and with all of his other side projects. No matter how many roadblocks and disinterested parties there appears to be in the matter, a major part of him still hopes to see John back in the company someday soon.
On Monday, Mike and Alex are leaning against a wall across from a monitor, still rolling their eyes over Punk and Heyman's antics with the urn, half-watching Dolph coming out with AJ and the large enforcer flanking him for a match against Jericho, who had interrupted Fandango to get some retribution for Smackdown- which had yet again been something Miz had wanted to see out of Jericho, the Most Must See Superstar growing more and more disturbed by just how his need for retribution was slowly entangling itself with Chris' career. His attention, however, is distracted by a slow, uneven step approaching them, Alex's elbow digging into his ribs. He turns to snap at the younger man when his jaw clicks shuts, amazed as he catches sight of what had the former NXT rookie's attention. "Ricardo?"
Crutches and a walking cast seem to be the only thing keeping the ring announcer on his feet, but he's there and, despite the tightness of pain on his face, he nods and forces a smile at them, releasing a faint breath upon reaching them. "Hola."
"Damn, man!" Mike hisses out, holding a hand out towards him as if afraid he's about to fall over right then and there. "It's good to see you. Here, sit down." He finds a nearby trunk and nods at it, resting his palm on Ricardo's arm to assist him, the ring announcer looking relieved to do just that. "How are you- I mean, dumb question, obviously, but...?"
Ricardo's smile grows a little more sincere as he awkwardly hops up, fumbling with his crutches until Alex takes them from him and rests them against the wall nearby. "Gracias. Um... I'm better," he finally ventures, blinking when Mike pushes over a thin crate that's just tall enough for him to stretch his bad leg out onto. Before he can say anything further, Alberto Del Rio arrives, the tight worry on his face fading when he sees that his friend is comfortably settled, nodding slightly at Alex and Mike. "El Patron," he greets his employer. "What's scheduled tonight?"
"A champion vs champion match against Cesaro," he says, seemingly disinterested in what he's saying as he stands next to his injured ring announcer. "No one gave you trouble, si?"
"No," Ricardo shakes his head. "I'm ok, El Patron. I'll be fine to announce you tonight." The somewhat off vibe between the two men suddenly makes more sense to both Mike and Alex, who exchange uncomfortable glances of their own. Based on the look on Del Rio's face, he's not completely sold on it either but obligingly taps Ricardo on the jaw, shaking his head slightly. "I will," he insists. "Anyway, um, I just wanted to say gracias to you both for coming to the hospital last week," he says awkwardly, glancing from Mike to Alex and back. "Muchas gracias."
"No need to thank us," Mike says, shaking his head. "We're all friends here, that's what friends do, right?" As Ricardo nods sheepishly, Miz thinks he understands the younger man's surprise and slight discomfort. Both he and Del Rio had been isolated through their time in the WWE, as had Mike for awhile before first Morrison, then Alex had wormed their ways into his life, and now as the new World Champion and his ring announcer try to make inroads on fixing bridges they'd burnt over the years, Mike also is gaining alliances and friendships he never would've thought possible even six months ago, such as Ric Flair.
Alberto breaks into the thoughtful silence, resting a hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Come, Ricardo, if you're going to be announcing, we should go get ready for my match." His grip shifts to a more supportive position as the younger man inches off of the trunk, grimacing as his feet rest once more on the cool tile floor. "Cuidadoso," Del Rio whispers, glancing over as Alex collects the crutches and holds them until Ricardo's ready for them, half-smiling once the ring announcer reaches out for them, releasing a faint breath as he adjusts them under his arms and takes his first hobbling step.
Mike steps forward and rests a hand on Ricardo's shoulder, squeezing gently in a move that reminds him just a little too much of last week, in the trainer's office. "Be careful out there, huh?"
The ring announcer nods, his lips twitching as he takes in yet another deep breath. "I will. Gracias, Miz." Mike releases him and watches as he determinedly continues on to Alberto's locker room, the World champion patiently walking alongside him with a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm not sure about this," Alex mumbles.
"Me neither, kid. Me neither." But there's nothing to do for it except watch, and watch they do, immediately growing tense when Zeb Colter makes his appearance and distracts Alberto during his match, Ricardo responding by making his way over to stand between the commentary table and ring. However it quickly worsens as, sure enough, Swagger appears, glaring at the ring announcer and- Mike's fingers dig into his knees as the xenophobic madman grabs Ricardo, slinging him into the steel steps, the poor man immediately curling in on himself. "Where's Del Rio?" Miz demands, finding that he's now on his feet as Swagger drags the defenseless ring announcer over to the timekeeper's area by his bad ankle.
He feels ill when the "True American" ruthlessly takes the casted leg and slings it brutally into the barricade wall, Mike biting his tongue so hard that he tastes blood. "No, no," he mumbles, seeing red. A second strike is attempted but finally Del Rio appears, leaping up onto the barricade wall and slinging into Swagger, knocking him away from Ricardo and chasing him through the crowd, throwing anything at him that he can get his hands on, the man ultimately getting away. Alex is on his feet too as Alberto makes his way back over to Ricardo, trying to comfort him while talking to the trainer over the ring announcer's strained cries of pain, renewed thanks to Swagger's cowardly attack. The match, forgotten by both Del Rio and the two men watching in the hallway, had been thrown by countout, and Alberto, overwhelmed by anger and disgust at Antonio continuing to mock and laugh at Ricardo's torture, races into the ring, taking out his heightened emotions on the US champion.
This spurs Mike into action as he slaps Alex's shoulder. "Come on, let's go." Alex doesn't even have time to respond, little choice but to keep quiet and follow as his mentor walks in hurried, clipped steps to the gorilla, ignoring everything as he pushes through the curtain and down the ramp, moving around the ring while ignoring the somewhat confused buzz of the audience. By now, Del Rio is done with Cesaro, back at Ricardo's side and holding his wrists while leaning down so they're side by side, murmuring to him in Spanish.
Mike arrives in time to hear Ricardo choke out, "Is it broken again?" his lips trembling as he stares beseechingly from the trainer to his employer. When the trainer says he doesn't believe so, they all sag in relief, Alberto's arms snaking more securely around the trembling man's shoulders. Not wanting to move him until he's absolutely certain, the trainer examines him more thoroughly, Del Rio's hold keeping him from completely losing it over the amplified pain, and finally deduces that the bone hadn't been affected, but the leg is bruised and swollen. Alex and Mike step aside to give the men some space as they prepare to help Ricardo backstage, Alex lifting one of the crutches lost during Swagger's attack. Mike, spotting the other one on the other side of the steps, grabs it as well and then rejoins the three men next to the table, Alex behind him.
Alberto looks up, seeming to realize that they're there for the first time, and nods, observing that they have Ricardo's crutches. Turning his attention back to his ring announcer, he helps him stand up from the chair, his face tightening when he cries out in pain again and tries to curl in on himself. "Ok, ok, it's ok, mi amigo, just... just take it easy..." He's considering asking for a stretcher again when Mike hands over the crutch to Alex and steps up, supporting Ricardo on the other side. Alberto examines him for a moment before nodding slightly, the ring announcer clinging to them both as the trainer walks ahead of them up the ramp, Alex lagging behind with the crutches, keeping an eye out for Swagger or anything else that could end up a problem for them.
They're halfway down the main hallway when Ricardo chokes out, "I can't- I can't- it hurts too much, El Patron-" Both Mike and Alberto stop as one, looking down at him. He's sweaty and pale, small pained whimpers escaping his mouth even while standing still. Alberto rests a hand on his neck and whispers to him, Ricardo nodding jerkily. "Just a few moments," he whispers, Mike quickly catching on as Del Rio begins to guide the ring announcer over to a trunk, the two men supporting him as he scoots up once more to sit and rest, his leg outstretched in front of him.
Mike's barely joined Alex, the trainer hesitating for a moment before continuing on to his office, when a cameraman appears and begins filming Del Rio, asking him what he plans on doing now. As he vows to break Swagger physically and emotionally, Colter too if need be, Mike scrubs a hand over his face. "Damn," he murmurs, watching Ricardo dig his fingers into his throbbing leg.
"Yeah," the younger man sighs. The interview ends quickly and Alberto urges Ricardo to come on, helping him off of the trunk, visibly not wanting to linger around and get disturbed by anyone else while he's in so much pain, and Mike joins them, taking his place by Ricardo's side yet again.
He only speaks up when they walk by the trainer's office, frowning. "Aren't we going to take him to the trainer's office?"
"No," Del Rio says grimly. "We've already discussed it, he can't do anything else for Ricardo. He needs rest and can't do that here. He'll be better off at the hotel, so that's where we're going." Mike isn't sure about this plan but Ricardo nods tiredly, so he stays quiet and continues on to the exit, where he helps Alberto settle the younger man into the waiting car. "I can take it from here," the Mexican aristocrat declares upon closing the passenger side door, turning to the other men. He hesitates, taking the crutches from Alex, before looking them both in the eye. "Gracias." The word sounds foreign coming from his lips, but also sincere.
"No problem," Mike murmurs, glancing into the car at the pale ring announcer. "Hope he feels better tomorrow."
Alberto pauses while stuffing the crutches in the backseat, standing once they're inside and he's peered at Ricardo for a moment, shutting the door and leaning on it briefly. "So do I." He nods grimly at them before returning to the driver's side and slipping inside. The two men go back into the arena and watch out of the exit's window as the car starts up and slowly drives off, Alex sighing while Mike shakes his head.
"Too bad Mania season's being ruined for him," Alex says, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk somberly back towards the locker rooms.
"Yeah, he seemed really excited for it too," Mike agrees with a wince. Although he hates knowing that the ring announcer's pain continues, it helps some to know he's out of the arena, away from Swagger's possible reach, safe in a hotel room hopefully where he can find some comfort. As he prepares for his upcoming match against Barrett, he half listens to the commentators while they discuss Wrestlemania and the various things that's happened on the show so far. Finishing coiling tape around his wrists, he bites it off and layers it properly before standing. "Time to go," he sighs as HHH comes out to address the whole situation with Lesnar.
"Knock 'em dead, Mike," Alex says as he heads for the door. Mike lifts a hand in response and pushes his way out of the room, slowly forcing himself to let all that had happened so far go. By the time he makes it to gorilla, Barrett is already out there, having a staredown with HHH, his ego coming off of him in waves. And does he pay for it as The Game lowblows him and leaves him laying, choking and writhing on the ramp.
Various superstars mingling around, watching the show from the monitors scattered around, start to laugh, and Mike looks around, a smirk on his face as he considers the affect this'll have on their match. Shrugging it off, he makes his entrance and quickly falls into that zone, going back and forth with the Brit. He starts to worry that the match is lost when, by chance, the taller man overshoots and ends up riding the top rope, his face turning an interesting shade of red until he flops over and wheezes, once more knocked senseless. From there, it's almost too simple- a quick Figure Four, and he taps, Mike looking towards the Wrestlemania sign yet again as he wonders what else could possibly happen in the next thirteen days to all of them.
He's just wandering back to the locker room to change back into street clothes and get out of the arena when he hears loud screaming, coming to a sharp stop as he realizes that it's the trainer's office. He's just peeked in when Team Hell No forces their way out, dragging a squeeching AJ Lee with them. He gapes for a moment before stepping forward. "Hey, hey, what are you doing?" he demands of the two men, eyes narrowing as he takes in just how upset she seems.
Daniel sneers at him as he releases the girl, pushing her out into the hallway a good deal rougher than Mike fines to be necessary. "She attacked Kaitlyn." He stares down at his ex-fiance. "Go, get out of here. Find Dolph, he apparently is the only one equally insane enough to be able to handle you." He looks up at Kane, who stares blankly down at him, and the two quietly walk back the way they'd come as AJ stares after them, frozen.
She lets out another scream, moving to dash after them, but Mike acts first, gripping her around the waist. "No," he says lowly, holding her in place. "Stop it, AJ. Come on. Calm down." Somehow, she actually does, her ragged breaths so rapid that he can feel them vibrating through him. "What'd they say?"
"Kaitlyn called me a beady-eyed crazy..." Her words become muffled as she grows upset yet again. "She claimed she was my best friend! She wasn't! She was a horrible friend!" Losing it once more, she spins around and punches him hard in the chest, screaming. Despite her tiny stature, she does have some pretty rough strikes and he winces against them, finally wrapping his arms around her and just holding her as she unleashes all of her anger and confusion upon him.
"It's ok," he mumbles, idly stroking his fingers through her hair. It had been so long, he had forgotten how silky her hair felt, the soft scent of her perfume that he could never quite place, not exactly floral but not exactly fruity either, just somehow something that suits her... "It's gonna be alright."
The moment passes too quickly, however, as she seems to remember that she's still so angry at him for using her. Pulling away, she only looks more deranged, cold now as she stares up at him. "What are you doing?" she snaps at him. "Do you think feigning like you care by comforting me here changes things? It doesn't." He watches her quietly, shaking his head slightly. "I love Dolph," she enforces, like he needs to be told that. He'd seen and heard enough over the weeks to not doubt her sincerity.
"I know."
"Then leave me alone." It's as if the last five minutes hadn't happened as she turns and, hair flipping back and forth in her wake, skips off. He watches her wistfully before finally turning to get his things together to go, desperate to turn his focus to whatever else the week has ahead for him.
Unfortunately, Alex isn't waiting for him in the locker room and he wonders where he'd run off to, setting out to find him with an exasperated grimace. He really just wants to leave, but just as he'd caught sight of Alex standing by catering, messing around with his phone, he hears it on the monitor he's venturing past: AJ has been placed in a match against Kaitlyn. His eyes close in defeat as he realizes he's just not going to be leaving this arena any time soon, dropping the bag at Alex's feet as he joins him. "Oh, hey," the younger man says. "I was going to get us something to eat but..." His words die away as he takes in the look on his face. "What's wrong?"
"Ran into AJ," he admits, body still tingling just from the few minutes contact he'd had with her.
"Oh." Alex swallows. "Are you alright?"
He makes an awkward motion somewhere between nodding and shrugging. "I will be. Her match is next?"
"Yeah. Do you want to stay, or go?" A-Ri kicks at the bag lightly, unsurprised when Mike barely glances at it.
"Might as well stay," he comments. "We've been here this long after all." Alex just nods knowingly, tilting his head as the divas' match begins a couple of minutes later. The battle spills out to the ringside area pretty quickly, the two females vicious with their attacks, until Kaitlyn miscalculates. She appears to be trying a spear but AJ sidesteps, the taller diva's body ramming right into the barricade wall, where she crumples and struggles, eventually losing the match via countout.
Mike blinks, surprised at just how tense he finds himself to be, slowly uncoiling his fists. "Huh."
"Well, at least she's ok," Alex offers as the camera focuses on the sly smirk on the girl's face, and the dazed anger on Kaitlyn's as she realizes just what had happened.
"Yeah," Mike agrees quietly. The only thing left for the show now is Rock and Cena's pre-Wrestlemania legends panel, and he doesn't care about that at all so he leans over and collects his bag. "Ready to go, kid?"
"Yeah, let's." Alex offers to drive and Miz accepts, leaning against the passenger side's chilly window and staring out of the shadowed businesses scattered around downtown in silence, lost in thought over everything that had happened in the last three hours. Between AJ and Ricardo, not to mention his own lack of a match on the card, he's almost dreading to see what the rest of the Road to Wrestlemania will bring, but before he can fall further into these grim thoughts, his phone buzzes in his pocket. He only has a few people set for tweet alerts while on the road, one of whom is sitting next to him, and John hasn't tweeted in over a month, so that leaves Ricardo or AJ.
Curious, he pulls the device out and accesses his text messages, lips twitching wanly as he realizes it's from Ricardo. He reads it a time or two, a strange feeling coming over him as he takes it all in. "Alex," he says quietly.
"Yeah?" one of his best friends asks, glancing over at him while slowing to a stop at a red light.
He reads the text off, Ricardo laying his determination to be at Wrestlemania, no matter how weak his legs may be, that his heart and voice are still strong, out there on social media where everyone can see it. "This guy, he has a broken ankle, not to mention everything else he's been put through the past few months, and he never really seems to let it hold him back, keeps him from being there for Del Rio." He turns to look at Alex, whose focus is now back on the road ahead. "I can't count how many things I've given up on in my career, and this ring announcer puts me to shame pretty much every day." Not that he's overlooking the things he's fought for, yeah, sure, just getting into the business itself and remaining there this long has been a struggle, but since then... he'd given up on title after title, getting John's job back, attempting to have more of a role in the company the year prior when Laurinaitis had shipped him off to Canada for Marine 3, and... he'd given up on trying to fix things with AJ.
He rereads Ricardo's tweet and takes a deep, renewing breath. "I think it's time for a change." His lips twitching into a grin, he nods, growing more and more confident in this feeling coursing through him. "I think it's time to fight."
Alex parks the car at the hotel, turning to raise an eyebrow at him. "What are you planning, Mike?"
His grin turns a little more dangerous as he closes the text screen out and pockets his phone. "You'll see, kid. You'll see."
The next day, it's announced on that he's been granted an Intercontinental title shot against Barrett at Wrestlemania. He can't help but take it as a sign.