A/N No excuses here but I have a cold and am kinda tired, so if this chapter is utter crap, my apologies. Should be better next week for chapter 150 and its accompanying bonus chapter.
Miz spends Tuesday thinking. Trying to refocus. He'd had a few weeks to recharge and, yeah, it hadn't gone as well for him as Marine Homefront had, but still. It'd been time to rest, recuperate. Despite all of the disappointments he'd come back to, he knows he should be feeling pretty good. Barrett and Ziggler may be champions now but one's out with a concussion and the other, well... The other hadn't had the chance to regroup like he had after Wrestlemania.
The preshow match against Cody Rhodes isn't really what he wants to do for Extreme Rules but he knows it'll be good to start with on his road to redeem himself after Wrestlemania, maybe get himself back on top of the world.
So by the time he sits back at the Main Event commentary desk, he's able to at least act a little more like himself, his voice not even wavering when Cole mentions his embarrassment, or when Barrett himself comes out to compete against Sin Cara. A match he loses, to Miz's extreme amusement. Afterwards, Cody Rhodes barely gets a win against Justin Gabriel and the two opponents stare at each other, Mike standing up to show if Cody wants to fight now, he could just bring it, but the son of a son of a plumber turns and leaves, heading back up the ramp without a backwards glance.
Miz smirks as he sits back down, unsurprised. Sunday should be interesting, either way.
Friday, he's set for the first edition of MizTV since his return, Big Show and Randy Orton the guests on the show. He's feeling especially hyper this evening, and, after Show insults him, he takes it out on his guests, working them up in an attempt to make them fight each other. However, before anything could get going too seriously, Swagger and Zeb interrupts. The very last two people Miz ever wants to see, eyes narrowing as he stares up the ramp at them, dwelling on all they'd done to Del Rio and Ricardo both the past few weeks.
It's only respect for the two Mexicans and knowing they'd rather handle their own issues with the xenophobic men that keeps him towards the back of the ring, watching as his show breaks down more and more: finally Alberto comes out, Ricardo by his side, and they make their way down the ramp, Mike leaving the ring completely and waiting to see how this all plays out, smirking when Alberto holds the mic for Ricardo to announce him loudly, declaring that he'll win on Sunday. But from there, things only get more tedious when Mark Henry interrupts and then Sheamus, of course, comes down, the brawl that follows ending up with Sheamus, Del Rio, Ricardo and Orton standing in the ring, staring down their various opponents.
Mike smirks as he ventures back up the ramp once things are quieter, walking past Teddy as he approaches the gorilla to announce the six man tag match that doesn't really surprise anyone. Alex meets up with him halfway to the locker room, nudging him teasingly. "Did you do that on purpose?"
Grinning over at his former protege, he shrugs innocently. "Who me?" Laughs when Alex rolls his eyes knowingly.
When he gets placed in a match with Sandow, it amuses him even more. Especially when Cody Rhodes does commentary and has no choice but to watch, unable to interrupt as he forces his best friend to tap to the Figure Four. Miz takes in the feeling of victory for the second time in a week and smirks at his opponent for this Sunday, vowing to do the same to him in less than 48 hours. It's small beginnings, really, but he has no doubt it'll lead to bigger and better things as his momentum grows once more.
Sunday goes well, despite some near misses. He beats Cody Rhodes after reversing a cross rhodes attempt into a figure four, closing his eyes as he poses on the top rope for the growing crowd below. Three wins in a week... though it doesn't erase the embarrassing loss he'd suffered just before being called for Christmas Bounty filming, it helps. Somewhat. He grins before leaving the ring, heading to the back.
Meeting up with Alex in the locker room, they sit and watch through the next few matches of the ppv, only waiting for Del Rio vs Swagger to see who will be named #1 contender for Dolph's world title. To Mike's relief, there's no reason AJ should come out through this match, so he's able to sit and relax, wait for the match to find its victor. Which seems to be going well enough, the contest going back and forth between Swagger and Del Rio so evenly that it's hard to tell exactly who has the advantage. Until Del Rio gets locked into the Patroit Lock yet again and the camera shows a visibly fretting Ricardo, holding a white towel out towards his employer as he tries to encourage him.
"Uh oh," Alex mumbles, exchanging a glance with Mike. Ricardo's worry is understandable, of course- he'd had his own ankle broken barely two months ago thanks to the submission hold, and he wouldn't want the same for his best friend- but there's no doubt that the prideful Mexican would have some issues with having the match quit for him, no matter the reason behind it.
Thankfully, it doesn't happen and the match continues- until Zeb grabs the towel from Ricardo and throws it into the ring, the referee mistakenly thinking that the younger man had called off the match for the Mexican aristocrat. "Dammit!" Mike hisses, watching on in disturbed fascination as Ricardo, frenzied, tries explaining he'd not thrown the towel in, his words failing on deaf ears until a second referee confirms it, forcing the first official to look around for a monitor to watch the replay on. This ends up being for the best, however, as the man, seeing confirmation, restarts the match, which ends a short while later to Swagger tapping to the armbar.
Alberto seems glad just to have won in the end, but there's something about the look on Ricardo's face... Mike shakes his head, remembering what he'd said the week prior, wondering...
On Monday, Mike is staring at the match list for Raw with a smirk, taking in how he is scheduled to start Raw off in a tag match, with... "Hey, Junior," a voice cuts into his thoughts and he turns to stare at his tag partner himself, Chris Jericho. They hadn't really talked since Mike had ordered him to get revenge on Swagger after he'd broken Ricardo's ankle, but he's pretty sure they'll work together decently.
"Hey, Jericho," he greets him. "Ready for the tag match tonight?"
"I'm always ready," he says with a smirk. "Are you?"
"Of course." Both men notice the WWE cameraman as he approaches, taking pictures of them while they discuss the upcoming tag match, Miz glancing out of the corner of his eye as he lingers. He rolls his eyes, seamlessly shifting into talk about his favorite hair gel, Jericho quickly joining in as they begin to argue over various namebrands and their durability during wrestling matches. Once the camera gets out of their faces, the man operating it quickly retreating towards the locker rooms with a weird expression on his face, Mike claps Chris' hand in success. "I'll see ya later," he tells his older tag partner, walking off to see what poor soul the cameraman is now taking pictures of, see if he can further tormenting him.
His plans stutter to a stop when he sees that it's Ricardo Rodriguez they're currently focusing their cameras on, the younger man sitting in front of a row of his Zubaz, one of which he's wearing, leaning over his phone and visibly trying to ignore the flash of the nearest camera that must be blinding him. Mike shakes his head and approaches, clapping the man roughly on his shoulder, startling him. "Tired of taking pictures? Good, go on, find someone else to-" He doesn't even bother finishing the sentence, pushing him out of the room and shutting the door securely behind him before rejoining Ricardo, half-heartedly smiling as the ring announcer looks up at him, surprise and relief in his eyes.
"Gracias, Miz. I didn't think he was ever going to leave," he says quietly, turning back to his phone.
"De nada," he smirks, glancing over his shoulder at the various pants hanging behind them. "How many of those do you have?"
Ricardo shrugs. "A dozen? Maybe?" He smiles hesitantly. "You should buy a pair or two, they're ridiculously comfortable. Especially to wrestle in."
Mike laughs. "Trying to become a Zubaz spokesman, are we?" Ricardo grins a bit, Mike relieved to see him looking a little more stable after last week, and the night prior, when he'd looked near to hyperventilating after Del Rio had almost lost the #1 contendership thanks to the towel incident. They sit in comfortable silence for awhile longer until a knock comes at the door to alert Mike that his match is soon. He stands and claps Ricardo on the shoulder, turning for the door. "See you around, Ricardo."
"Oh, si. See you. Good luck."
"I don't need luck, I'm the Miz," he smirks as the ring announcer chuckles, ducking out of the room to go meet up with Jericho.
The match really isn't that difficult, especially after Fandango leaves the apron to dance with Summer Rae, annoying Wade to distraction until their team wins the match, leaving the Brit down in the ring as Jericho goes to confront Fandango, Miz following along. Except that the dancer/wrestler makes a quick getaway through the crowd, leaving Summer Rae trapped between the two men with nowhere to go. Upon Chris grabbing her and spinning her around for a bit, Mike grins and shrugs, leaving them to it as he heads up the ramp, watching what Jericho does, faking her out, on the titantron.
The last thing he expects is to run into AJ Lee in the hallway, her head tilted as it always is when she's in one of her moods. He only rolls his eyes, trying to brush past her, when she sidesteps and blocks his way once more. Finally deciding to get this over with, he stares down at her and waits, lips tight with displeasure. "What. Do. You. Want?"
She grins at his finally speaking and flips her hair over her shoulder. "Just wondering if I should warn Summer Rae about you. See, I know what happens when you get too close to a diva..." She taps him on the bare chest, lingering for a moment, before pulling away with a dark look on her face. "No matter what I think about those worthless girls, no one should go through that." She smirks at him before turning and skipping away, leaving him staring blankly after her until Jericho comes through the curtain, distracting him from his wayward thoughts.
"Alright, Miz?"
"Yeah. I'm fine," he says, shaking his head before following the man through the halls, relieved to get away from the chill in the air that AJ had left behind in the gorilla position. He and Alex are loitering around the locker room afterwards, watching as Alberto competes against Big E., Del Rio doing all he can to keep the bigger man down while Ricardo cheers him on from outside, when he's knocked out of the ring and lands hard. It happens after he regroups with a little help from the ring announcer, who rolls him back into the ring before the 10 count, AJ collecting the abandoned bucket from the floor and tossing it into the ring, distracting both ref and Del Rio as Big E scratches at the Mexican's eyes while the referee pushes the item out of the ring, which leads him into slamming Alberto roughly into the mat and pinning him.
Mike and Alex watch on in silence as Ricardo rushes to his employer's side, Del Rio scrubbing at his eye as they absorb this abrupt loss, the bucket laying forgotten behind them. Shaking his head, Miz curses quietly and wonders when things will get easier for the two men, if ever. They're still sitting there, half-focusing on what remains of the show, when there's a loud crash outside of the locker room and Mike glances over at his former protege before standing slowly and venturing to the door, peering outside. "Ricardo?"
The ring announcer is standing tensely in the middle of the hallway, shaking with nerves as he glares down at the bucket that now lays on its side at his feet, a dent in the wall shaped like the metal rim. He swallows and glances over, eyes wide and dark, before kicking the bucket aside and storms off, each step desperate and off-balanced. Mike watches him for a moment before rushing out into the hallway, Alex following him with a frown. Mike takes a breath and points out the bucket. "Grab that, Alex. I'm going to go after him." When the younger man nods, picking up the abused item, he rushes after Ricardo, not sure where exactly Del Rio is but knowing that being left alone is the last thing Ricardo needs right now.
It thankfully is easy to find him, his slumped form visible as soon as Mike makes it outside into the parking lot, despite his tux melting into the darkening night sky. He slows down, not wanting to overwhelm the younger man any more than he already is, approaching carefully. "Ricardo?" The ring announcer's only response is a faint sniff and Mike's eyes soften sympathetically as he sits down next to him, staring at what of his face he can see through the shadows. "Hey... what's going on? Where's Del Rio?"
"Trainer's," he says wearily, even that one word heavy with unshed tears.
Mike frowns, his eyes narrowing with fresh worry, before he reaches out for the other man. "Hey-"
"Don't- don't," Ricardo exclaims, scrambling away from him and rushing a few feet away before he comes to a stop, digging his fingers into his face. "I should be with him, making sure he's ok- but I can't, I can't even do that for him." He sobs dryly, turning back to Mike. "This is all my fault- he almost lost last night because of me, his #1 contendership, and- and now, tonight-"
Mike shakes his head, not moving from where he's sitting. "Ricardo, man, come on- it's just a match, right? He'll have other chances against Big E., I have no doubt."
"There are no just a match type situations for him!" he cries, his fingers buried in his hair as he continues to lose it, everything seeming to be crashing down upon him all at once. "Especially now, when he's #1 contender. He can't- I can't-" Mike's starting to worry that he'll pass out from lack of oxygen, his breathing desperate and ragged as he gasps rapidly between each word, unable to vocalize any further, when...
"Ricardo." Both men look over as light suddenly pours out across them, taking the darkness away with it, drenching Ricardo in a bright glow which originates inside the building. Alberto and Alex leave the doorway, the older Mexican immediately walking towards his freaking out best friend as Alex joins Mike, looking as unsettled as Mike feels. He wonders how much they'd heard. "Amigo, what's wrong? Why did you run off, hmm? It's not, it's not like you."
Ricardo's face crumbles as he begins rambling on in trembling, rapid Spanish, shaking his head desperately even when Alberto drops his hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently. "I'm so sorry," he finally chokes out, words muffled as the Mexican aristocrat pulls him closer and presses his face against his shoulder, stroking his fingers through his hair.
"It's not your fault, amigo. It's not. Hey, we're a team, right? You need to stop putting so much on your own shoulders... I was the one distracted enough to let Big E. get the drop on me, and you were only trying to help me when you left the bucket behind." He continues to sooth the younger man, shaking his head slowly. "Listen to me, amigo. These things do just happen sometimes, and yes, I hate losses, but there's no point in beating ourselves down over them. Best to use them as learning experiences, si?"
"Si," Ricardo sniffs, nodding plaintively as he slowly catches his breath. He pulls away after a moment and examines his best friend's face waveringly. "Your eye- is it ok?"
"It's fine, Ricardo," Alberto smiles. "Trainer said it might be tender for a day or two, and he gave me eyedrops for any redness or inflammation, but I'll be just fine. I promise." As he wraps an arm around his best friend and leads him back towards the cars, both of them looking forward to getting back to their hotel for some rest, Alberto glances over his shoulder and nods thankfully at Mike, who raises a hand in response.
"Always something, isn't it?" Alex asks lowly, glancing over as Mike nods. "Have I told you how glad I am that you came back when you did? Trying to deal with all of this stuff is kind of maddening. I don't know how you manage it."
He laughs, smirking at his friend. "This is true." They sigh as one before turning back to the building, Mike curling his fingers around his former rookie's neck, squeezing. "Did you hear about Morrison filming that movie?"
"Yeah, glad to hear he got back home safely..." Alex murmurs, neither man noticing the dark shape of AJ Lee as she steps out of the shadows from the side of the building, peering through the window of the arena door after them, her lips curling up into an evil sneer.