John is gracious, as always, barely blinking when he picks Mike up at the airport mid-Tuesday, smirking slightly as he takes in his friend's lingering exhaustion. "Hey, man. They been running you ragged up in Canada?" he wonders, leading the way back to his car. As Mike slumps down in the passenger seat, making a nodding-shrugging motion, he grins a little. "It's alright. You can sack out at my place awhile. I won't bug you too much for details."
"Thanks," he murmurs, knowing that, despite his reason for coming to California in the first place had been to think, get settled on the next step in his career and life, he won't be able to think about anything seriously without at least a few hours of sleep. So he's relieved when he slumps into the guest bedroom that Morrison stays true to his word, keeping quiet while he gets some sleep.
Except that a side effect of spending time at Morrison's place makes itself known before Miz had been prepared for it, waking him up after a few hours of hard sleep. He flinches and stretches, the soft sheets feeling good against his bare feet. "Ugh, God," he grumbles, not looking forward to getting up but knowing that he has to at some point, especially with a need for coconut water poking at him nonstop.
Stumbling free of the bed, he heads out into the hallway and moves towards the kitchen, rubbing at his eyes sleepily when he hears soft murmuring from the main room. Not wanting to be nosy, he continues on towards the fridge until he hears his name. Frowning slightly, he glances to where John's standing with his back to him, talking tensely into his phone.
He frowns harder and shakes his head, muffling a yawn with his hand before opening the fridge door as quietly as he can, staring inside blurrily as John's continued mumbles echo into the kitchen. He's really curious if something's wrong, but he knows his friend has many irons in the fire, between his various Indy dates, OOYM fitness and the movie projects he's involved in. He smiles faintly, thinking about how when they were teaming together originally, they'd volleyed around movie ideas they'd like to be involved in, never even imagining that within five years, it would've happened for both of them at the same time. When he leaves the kitchen, coconut water in hand, Morrison is still on the phone so he sighs softly, padding back towards the guest room. Hopefully if something seriously is wrong, he'll tell me. But I won't push, it's the same kind of consideration he'd give me, after all.
However, when he wakes up the next day to find an interview on with Morrison, talking about Out of Your Mind fitness and... what John thinks about his being a "new and improved" Miz, he thinks maybe this was the wrong choice after all. He stares at the words on the screen, pondering why John would sound so... antagonistic in this interview. He stares out at the blue sky beyond for a few minutes before standing up and leaving the bedroom, needing answers from his former tag partner.
Likewise, John is sitting at the island in his kitchen, staring outside with a vacant look on his own face. He only looks up when he hears footsteps, trying to smile through visible exhaustion. "Hey, man, how'd you sleep?"
Mike stares at him for a long moment, trying to reconcile the words he'd read on the screen with the man before him. It doesn't fit. "Better than you, apparently." He sits down across from him and takes a breath. "What was with that article?"
John blinks tiredly, not quite grasping what he means. "Huh?"
"You were saying that it'd be weird with us being on the same side- and that I stole the figure four. You were watching Raw," he says slowly. "Ric Flair was mentoring me and agreed to my using it. It was a sign of respect."
John grimaces, suddenly understanding. "I know, Mike. It's just... The last time people saw me in WWE, I lost to you and then was fired by Laurinaitis. I've never blamed you, but things like that stick with the crowd. Then I get into that mindset and things just kind of... go from there. I didn't mean anything by it."
Mike stares at him for a long moment before nodding. He's not sure if he believes him or not, something in his tired eyes hinting that he's leaving something out, but Mike has enough on his mind- the last thing he needs is to add John's issues to that, especially when John clearly doesn't want to discuss it. "Fine," he sighs.
Alex ends up on the same flight as Ricardo and Alberto on his way to Smackdown that week. They'd all returned to Florida for a few days once the trainer released the Mexicans, and Alex's almost surprised that Alberto's allowed Ricardo to travel with him, considering all that the younger man had gone through the past couple of months. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, smiling slightly at them as he walks by to his seat.
When the plane's in the air and the seatbelt sign goes dark, he stands and makes his way back to the two men, nodding at the flight attendant as she moves past him in the tight space. "Hi." Continuing on to the other two, he leans against the empty seat in front of them and sighs, taking in the tightness of pain in the ring announcer's dull eyes. "Hey, Ricardo, Del Rio."
"Hola," the Mexican aristocrat answers automatically, visibly not paying him any attention as he pours over a magazine, only glancing up briefly when Ricardo speaks, his voice low and pain-filled.
"Hola, Alex." The poor ring announcer, freed from one injury just to be thrown into another so suddenly, looks pale and tense with pain, his arm obviously causing him grief with the littlest movement. Alex feels horribly for him, but he also knows how determined the man is to accompany Alberto. Despite just sitting in the plane seat, his discomfort is obvious as he absently massages the shoulder that had been struck with the ladder only a few days ago. Del Rio seems unhappy with this, glancing up fairly often to check on him before ducking back behind the print. "How are things?"
"The same," he shrugs, not wanting to go into the various issues he's been having lately- worry for Mike, paranoia that AJ Lee will be lurking around any corner, waiting to harass him... insult Mike. He smiles half-heartedly, about to take his leave of the two men before the flight attendant makes him clear the aisle, when Alberto abruptly clears his throat and puts the magazine down, looking up at the former NXT rookie. Surprised, Alex pauses and watches him, sensing that Ricardo also is confused about what suddenly made the Mexican aristocrat pay attention to them.
"Do you know if you have any planned segments on Smackdown this week?" he asks dully, crossing his arms over his chest and raising an eyebrow at the younger man.
Alex shakes his head, half-shrugging. "Probably not. Why?"
Alberto glances over at his best friend before shifting his position in the seat. "Ricardo will be remaining at the hotel while I go do commentary during Swagger's match on Smackdown. I don't want him to be alone, so if you wouldn't mind staying with him while I'm at the arena, ..." He hesitates, looking awkward and almost uncomfortable. "I'd be appreciative."
Alex glances at Ricardo, who doesn't look too thrilled at the prospect of being left behind at the hotel but says nothing, before peering back at Alberto, shrugging. "Sure, it'd be my pleasure." He smiles sympathetically at the ring announcer before noticing how, sure enough, the flight attendant doesn't seem too thrilled at his standing in the aisle for so long. "I'll see you after the flight, I think I've overstayed my welcome." He grins a little sheepishly before wandering back to his own seat, looking forward to hanging out with Ricardo. Raw and Smackdown always seem a little lonely without Miz, leaving him feeling a little abandoned despite his having other friends to hang out with in the locker rooms.
Once they land, Alex collects his bag from the overhead storage before ending up behind Ricardo and Alberto in the line of people waiting to exit the plane, tapping Ricardo on his good shoulder to make his presence known. The ring announcer looks around for a moment before realizing who's trying to get his attention, nodding up at him. "Hey."
Alberto turns at hearing his voice, looking almost surprised. "Oh. Riley. I want to leave for the arena when we're off of the plane, see what's going on... Would you mind taking Ricardo back to the hotel?" He sighs when the ring announcer looks even unhappier at this, resting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll only be for a little while, mi amigo. The show's on in a couple of hours, and as soon as the Swagger match is over with, I'll come to the hotel. I promise." He smiles faintly. "Besides, I told you if you rested today, I'd check with the trainer about letting you accompany me to the house shows this weekend. That was the reason for you traveling with me, si?"
Ricardo nods, only seeming a little appeased at this, before they reach the steps leading them off of the plane. Del Rio allows his ring announcer to go first, keeping a close eye on him so he doesn't lose his balance on the descent. Once he's safely on the ground, Alberto hands over the ring announcer's bag to Alex and claps Ricardo on the shoulder. "See you soon, El Patron," he says grimly, sighing quietly as he smiles sadly at him.
"Si, you will, mi amigo. Now go rest." Shouldering his own bag and nodding briskly at Alex, he turns and walks off towards the exit, confident in whatever it is he plans on doing at Smackdown. Neither Alex or Ricardo believe that he'll leave it at simple commentary.
Once the Mexican aristocrat is out of sight and Ricardo seems ready to leave, Alex locates his rental car and stuffs his bag and Ricardo's into the trunk before settling into the driver's side. He glances down, surprised to find that somehow Ricardo had managed to get his seatbelt clicked despite his bad shoulder, and smiles faintly. "If you want to stop somewhere for food on the way to the hotel, let me know- or we can just get room service, whichever you prefer." Ricardo nods, though he doesn't seem enthused by the offer, and Alex isn't surprised when he doesn't point any place out through the fifteen minute drive. He vows to get some sort of room service, not wanting to annoy Alberto by leaving him hungry.
In fact, as soon as they reach the room set aside for Alberto and Ricardo, he begins searching for the room service menu, finally finding it in a drawer with the local phone book. He peruses it for a moment, his back to Ricardo, before turning to the ring announcer, who's now sitting on the edge of the bed, staring grimly out the window. Tapping the menu against the wooden surface of the desk, he walks over and sits next to him. His worry only grows when he realizes that his eyes are welling with unshed tears, lips twisted in frustration. "Hey..." he says slowly as Ricardo all but ignores him, fingers curled into tense fists against his pants. "Do you want to talk?" When the ring announcer doesn't jump at this chance, Alex smiles mirthlessly and stares out the window too, not wanting to push. "You know, as close as Mike and I are, well... sometimes I find it easier to unburden myself to someone who's not him. Because he always has so much going on, and I don't want to add to that. I bet you feel that way about Del Rio, huh?" Ricardo still says nothing and Alex attempts it again. "I usually go to Morrison when I feel like that. And I know you talk to Mike sometimes but with him filming the past few weeks, well... you've not really had many people to turn to, huh?"
Not wanting to push, the former NXT rookie falls silent and waits, knowing that eventually Ricardo will have to say something. Sure enough, it only takes a couple of minutes when he finally whispers, "I'm just tired of it." Alex looks at him, but lets the silence speak as he waits patiently. He shifts his shoulder, wincing in pain, before speaking once more. "I mean, I'm used to being hurt- it happened often enough... before." He takes a breath, staring at his hands. "But since... since El Patron has changed... everyone realizes... that I'm an easy way to get at him, an easy target, and they use me against him." Fingers digging into his hurt shoulder, he forces himself to continue despite how badly his voice is wavering, his eyes a dark well of misery. "Everything's just... so messed up, it's like I've gone from getting brogue kicked to KO punched, to having my ankle broken, now to my shoulder... and that's- that's just the worst of it from the past few months, there's been so many others... I just want to be able to do my job, is all..."
Alex sighs and pats his good shoulder, feeling badly for him. "I'm sorry, man. It does suck. But hey, at least you have some support now, right? Del Rio, and Mike, me... It has to make it at least a little bit better than in the past when you two were basically on your own for everything."
He blinks a couple of times and then nods. "Si, it does help." As Alex wraps an arm around him, giving him a minute to hopefully leave his grim thoughts behind him, he stares down at the menu in the other man's hands. Finally some of the tension leaves him and he breathes out, "What's that? Room service?"
"Yes it is, want to order something before Smackdown?" When he nods, Alex grins, opening the menu up. "Fantastic. Let's see what they have." The food comes just before Big E vs Swagger and they move over to the table and chairs across the room to eat, Ricardo picking halfheartedly at his grilled chicken sandwich and mixed vegetables as he watches, all interest in his meal disappearing as they reair his getting rammed by the ladder again, Del Rio barely saying five words afterwards before getting up from the commentary table and pulling a ladder from under the ring. It devolves into a melee quickly, the match forgotten as Dolph and Swagger war for the ladder, eventually Alberto getting back into the fray and ending up back in control, standing atop of the ladder after ramming the ladder into Swagger on the outside. Alex glances over to find the ring announcer smiling in some relief as commercials start up once more, nudging him after a moment.
"Hey, eat up, your food'll get cold," he says before turning back to his own BLT and potato wedges. To his relief, Ricardo does finally eat now, getting the majority of the food down before he starts to slump in his chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion from the past week and all of the pain he's still in from his shoulder. Alex notices but doesn't say anything until he finishes with his own food, giving Ricardo the chance to continue picking at what remains of his. Giving up, he begins to collect the plates and utensils, settling them on the cart before returning to the ring announcer's side. "Are you done?" When he nods, Alex moves his things to the cart as well and pushes it out to the hallway for the staff to collect.
Ricardo looks a little embarrassed as he yawns, blinking tiredly at Alex. "Eh, gracias, Alex. I know I'm not great company tonight, lo siento."
Waving off the apology with a small smile, he glances towards the bed pointedly. "You look wiped, man, why not go get some sleep until Alberto returns?" When Ricardo hesitates, he continues. "I'm just gonna hang around and watch the rest of the Smackdown, don't worry about keeping me entertained. Go ahead, lay down for awhile."
The ring announcer still doesn't move, finally looking up at him. "One thing, before..." He sighs. "Has Miz mentioned anything about AJ lately?"
Alex frowns, remembering how she'd tried cornering him at Raw the week prior, wondering why Ricardo would mention her now. "Our conversations have been limited since he returned to Canada, so no he hasn't. Why?"
"She, um. She tried getting me to talk to her about Mike last week." Ricardo grimaces. "I wasn't sure what to do. I... I tried not to say much, but it's obvious she's really, really angry."
Alex leans closer to him and shakes his head. "She forced a conversation with me too. Don't worry about it, I'll tell Mike she's up to something the next time I see him. Just go to him if she tries anything again, alright? He should be back next week..." For a moment, he doubts his own words, remembering the last conversation he'd had with his former mentor, but shakes it off, not wanting to add to Ricardo's problems.
Ricardo nods, looking a little relieved at this. "Gracias, Alex." Finally standing, he reluctantly makes his way slowly over to the bed, holding his arm protectively to his side as he slumps down into the sheets. He smiles faintly, which has been unfortunately rare tonight, as the other man rescues him from fighting one-handed with the sheets, spreading them out over him with a brisk shake. It's obvious he's planning on little more than just resting his aching body for awhile, but Alex doubts he'll last five minutes, considering how tired he seems.
"Better?" Alex asks, stepping back and watching as he snuggles further into the bed, eyes slipping closed immediately despite how hard he'd fought to stay awake since getting off of the plane, wanting to wait to see his employer after Smackdown. He smirks slightly, remembering all the times he'd had to all but force Mike to sleep, the man so desperate to do every media event, wrestling event, and everything in between sometimes to his own detriment. Despite his and Miz's current issues, he has to admit he misses making sure that the other man takes proper care of himself at least sometimes.
"Si," he whispers, already losing his grip on consciousness. As Alex walks away from the bed, to let him rest without disruption, he rolls onto his good side and curls into the sheets, cocooning himself.
Alberto returns about half an hour later, just as Smackdown is ending, and Alex stands, knowing that that will probably be his cue to leave soon. "Hey," he whispers to the Mexican aristocrat, nodding over at the bed so he realizes that the ring announcer is getting some much needed sleep.
His eyes soften as he slows down, placing the keys carefully on the table so they do little more than click against the surface. "How is he?" he murmurs, stepping between the beds to look down at his best friend. "His eyes are red," he observes aloud, frowning deeper. "Was he-?"
When he doesn't finish his sentence, Alex clears his throat awkwardly, certain that the Mexican aristocrat already knows at least some of what the problem is. "He's frustrated. He wants to just go out, do his job, but he keeps getting hurt, and..."
Del Rio nods briskly, eyes gleaming with compassion as he stares once more down at the younger man. "I know," he mutters. "I know he does. I do too. I miss having him alongside me whenever... But I can only do so much to keep him safe, especially in a feud involving a triple threat match... There is so much at play at one time..."
Alex reflects on all that Ricardo had said earlier and shakes his head, not wanting to cause problems between the two when Ricardo's already going through so much, leave Del Rio thinking the wrong thing. "He doesn't blame you, I think. It's almost like... he blames himself?"
Del Rio looks up at him roughly, face dark with displeasure. "Why would he?" he hisses. "It's not his fault!"
Hesitating, the other man swallows in the face of his anger, realizing anew just why people used to avoid the Mexican aristocrat when he was at his worst. "I'd say because he thinks he should be able to defend himself better, defend you more."
Alberto shakes his head, lips held in a tense line when he looks down at his friend. "That sounds like him, but... I didn't hire him to defend me, I just... wanted a decent ring announcer. I simply didn't think about all that would entail, how often... he would be put in the line of fire on my behalf. Of course, in the early days, I didn't really care... but that's my personal failings, not his." Ignoring how his knee still catches sometimes since losing the title, he kneels down next to the bed and adjusts the sheets around him, brushing his hair back from his forehead to get a better look at his face. "Did he eat?"
"We ordered room service, he ate most of his." Sensing that he's about to overstay his welcome for the second time today, Alex moves towards the door. "Tell him bye for me," he requests quietly, staring at the back of Del Rio's head as he continues to examine his sleeping best friend.
"Si."
Alex almost wants to say more, but doubts Alberto is paying any attention to him now anyway. He quietly leaves, clicking the door shut softly behind him before leaning against the door, replaying the conversation he'd just had with Del Rio, and what Ricardo had said about AJ. He rolls his head side to side against the wooden barrier before moving down the hall towards the elevator to take him to his own floor. "Ugh, Mike, you better return soon, I can't take much more of all of this all on my own," he sighs, closing his eyes and wondering not for the first time how Mike handles all of it while juggling his own career issues.
After a weekend spent in California, handling errands and things he'd let slide while in Canada, and some more beach time with Morrison, whose article isn't brought up by either man, though the doubts linger with Mike, the Most Must See Superstar finds himself back on a plane, heading to the week's Raw. As soon as he's in his rental car, on his way to the arena, he realizes he'd not texted Alex to alert him he was on his way. After the week prior's discussion they'd had where Mike was still trying to think his way through all of his problems, they'd only sent a couple of meaningless texts back and forth and he feels a little bad about it, but now, so close to the building, he decides to leave it until they're face to face.
As soon as he parks and stares up at the arena, it rushes over him in a flood. Just how bad he'd missed the business, his friends, everything. Smiling slightly, he exits the car and collects his bag, quickly walking through the parking lot towards the crew entrance. He skids to a stop, however, when he arrives at the main hallway and finds AJ Lee standing with her back to him, eyes locked on the men at the other end of the hall. He frowns, realizing that Ricardo Rodriguez and Alex Riley are who has her attention, unfortunately aware of this fact as she approaches them with an annoyingly chipper spring to her step.
"If it isn't my two favorite of Miz's little friends," she taunts the two men, skipping up behind them and tilting her head as both of them slowly turn to face her, neither looking pleased at seeing her.
"What do you want, AJ? I told you already-" Alex snaps, his eyes narrowed at the girl. Ricardo stands quietly nearby, glancing from Alex to AJ nervously, visibly not wanting any part of this confrontation. Miz watches and wonders just what she'd been doing to them while he'd been gone, that neither had bothered to tell him about.
"I know what you told me," she says with a toothy grin. "But last I heard filming ended last week and he still didn't come back. Almost as if he's avoiding something... or someone."
Alex has just opened his mouth to respond when Mike finally interjects, walking up and tapping her on the back, smirking a little as he catches sight of the shocked look on his friends' faces out of the corner of his eye. "AJ," he says.
She turns slowly and glares up at him, eyebrow raised. "Oh, look who decided to show up after all."
He sneers for a moment before glancing once more at Alex and Ricardo, who are watching with baited breath and wide eyes to see what he might do, if they'll need to intervene in case she should say or do something to worsen his already shaky confidence. Turning his attention back to her, he crosses his arms over his chest. "So is this what you do, since Dolph is off dealing with his little memory issues?" he asks, wiggling his fingers in a mocking manner in her face, amused when she swats them away.
"He has a concussion!" she all but screams in his face, eyes flashing, as he grins down at her. "It's not funny!"
His face goes decidedly blank at this and he nods at her. "You know, you're right. It's not. It's also not funny when I walk into a building and find you disturbing my friends, and apparently not for the first time either. And once you're out of here, they're going to tell me all that you've said and done the past few weeks, because that's what sane friends do, sweetheart." She glowers at him as he leans closer, almost nose to nose with her. "The next time you have something to say, come to me. Leave them alone. Understand?"
Her eyes dulling suddenly, she glowers up at him for a few moments longer before turning sharply and pushing past him, storming down the hall while ignoring everyone she passes by or runs into in her rush to get away. Mike shakes his head, scrubbing his hand over his face before turning back to his friends. "You two alright?"
Alex nods, glancing over at Ricardo. "Si," the ring announcer murmurs. "Welcome back, Miz."
He grins a little. "Thanks, man." Turning to look at Alex, he sighs. "Hey, kid."
"Hey Mike." They stare at each other for a moment longer before moving as one, hugging each other tightly. "Alright?"
Miz smirks, nodding slightly. "Better than I was anyway. I'm sorry about last week, I just wasn't... sure yet what I felt like doing. But I'm here now. I need to talk to Vickie Guerrero before the show starts, but I saw what was going on with AJ so..." Trailing off, he glances over at Ricardo, slowly releasing Alex and stepping back to look at the younger man. "Quite a few weeks for you, huh? How's your shoulder?"
Shifting it carefully, the ring announcer smiles mirthlessly. "A little stiff sometimes, but mostly alright. At least El Patron allowed me to come to the show tonight."
"That's good," Mike nods, peering down at his leg for a moment. "It's good to see you out of that brace, too."
Ricardo nods, looking over when Alberto joins them, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's good to be out of it as well."
"Miz," Del Rio says simply.
"Del Rio."
"Ricardo, WWE is having a vote on the App for who should get to face Big E later- me or Swagger," he tells him. "Come, let's get ready just in case."
"Si, El Patron. See you around, Miz, Alex," he offers before following his employer.
"Bye." Mike looks at Alex. "Well, wanna tell me what exactly AJ's been doing?" As Alex talks, they walk through the halls back towards Vickie's office, Mike determined to get a match on the card no matter what. Even when it ends up being against Heath Slater, he can't complain. Some competition is better than none, and he's still not feeling completely there, having to return to TV after that 24-hour title reign so he's almost relieved that it's a relatively safe opponent.
But even so, Heath holds the upperhand longer than Mike's comfortable with, the only thing keeping him going being the fact that everyone knows that even after the Corre broke apart, Heath and Wade Barrett had remained something of friends, and the more offense he takes, the more he thinks about it, the angrier he gets. Finally gaining control, he takes full advantage of it and sends Heath flying out of the ring, where Drew and Jinder are standing, cushioning some of their leader's landing, but not enough. It's downhill from there for the wannabe rock star as, upon standing, it's obvious that his knee is messed up. Which makes him easy pickings, Mike locking in the Figure Four and causing him to tap quickly, glaring up the ramp at him after Drew and Jinder get him to safety. It hadn't been a perfectly flawless victory, but still, he feels a little more confident, even grinning wildly into the camera. "I'm back!"
3MB is walking slowly through the hallway back to the locker rooms, Heath's gait still awkward and painful, when Mike pushes his way through the gorilla curtains. More than that, Wade Barrett himself is standing nearby, glaring at Miz as he adjusts the gleaming Intercontinental title belt across his shoulder. Mike narrows his eyes, thinking that the title looks better against his shoulder, but says nothing as the current champion sneers at him before turning to follow 3MB.
He's still standing there awhile later when Ricardo joins him, blinking slowly. "Miz?" When he turns to look, the ring announcer forces a smile. "Um, Big E. won the vote, we're going to watch in the locker room. Alex is there... do you want to join us?"
"Sure," Mike agrees, following him. They're walking side by side when Mike notices a grim look on Ricardo's face. "Hey, you ok, man?"
The ring announcer's step falters before he glances over. "Oh. Si, yes. I'm fine. Just thinking..." They continue walking on in silence before Ricardo speaks again, his eyes lowered as he confesses quietly. "It's just that... the match choice I won for El Patron was voided tonight thanks to Ziggler's concussion... so my win a couple weeks back was meaningless. He still doesn't get to compete in the match he wanted."
Mike stares at him for a moment, unsettled by the look on his face. "I doubt Alberto sees it that way, Ricardo. Just because the match won't happen doesn't mean that you didn't win the opportunity. It was nothing you or Del Rio did that caused the match to get thrown out, after all. We all know Swagger's unhinged, you more than most. He seems to care more about hurting people than actually winning that title."
"I suppose," he sighs. "I just wish... the one thing I'd done right recently..."
Mike sighs, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and squeezing carefully just before they arrive at the locker room. "Come on, man. Things'll work out, you'll see."
Ricardo nods and swallows, looking at the door. "Come on, we should go in before El Patron or Alex begins to worry." Mike agrees quietly and follows him inside, Big E. vs Swagger just beginning when they arrive, the two large men feeling each other out, AJ and Zeb lurking around on the outside to cheer on their individual men. Alberto and Ricardo both seem pleased to watch the men destroy each other, but when the count begins, Langston down on the outside, Del Rio nudges his ring announcer and the two quietly get up, leaving the room.
Mike winces slightly when the match goes by count out, Swagger eaking out the victory, and AJ's screams echo out in angered denial at the loss, but he's distracted when Alberto and Ricardo both appear, walking down to the ring. Del Rio gets inside and immediately attacks Swagger, but the "True" American gets control, locking him into an ankle lock but Ricardo is right there, using his bucket on Jack and freeing his employer, just to get kicked out of the ring for his troubles. It's enough time for Alberto to regroup and get the armbar in before Big E interferes, Del Rio giving him an enzuigiri in response. After he clotheslines Swagger out of the ring, Ricardo struggles back inside, holding his jaw gingerly, and Alberto joins him, supporting him as he fights to catch his breath from the rough fall he'd taken.
When they return ten minutes later, Mike isn't that surprised to find that Ricardo has an icepack held to his jaw, his eyes lowered in pain as he sits down. "You alright?" Ricardo nods glumly and Mike glances at Alberto, needing clarification.
"Trainer says his jaw will just be sore for a bit, maybe bruised. There were no fractures." Del Rio rubs his friend's back comfortingly before standing to change, get ready to leave. "I'll be back in a moment, Ricardo. Then we can leave."
Peering from Alex to Ricardo, all Mike can think is, despite how bad things are going once again, he really is glad to be home.