After commentating Main Event that week, Mike turns his attention to Friday. Not only does he have the promised match against Wade Barrett on Superstars, he almost has a MizTV segment with Paul Heyman for Smackdown. Not to mention Alex on commentary for Superstars, which still rankles at him... but he can't deny the younger man the opportunity, knowing that it's ultimately not his fault that everything with Ricardo had gone so south. And he vows to say so the next time he sees him, the two of them having seen very little of each other since leaving Florida for the events upcoming the next few nights, either too busy preparing for their various obligations, or just trying to sleep as much as they can while they can.
So on Friday, when they travel to the arena together, Mike stops in the parking lot and looks over at him, speaking up before he can get out of the car. "Hey, kid."
"Yeah?" Alex looks over at him, frowning slightly. "What is it, Mike?" He sounds tired, almost leery of what Mike's going to say, and the former WWE champion has to say he doesn't blame him, after the past couple of days.
"I'm sorry. I know it's not your fault, what happened between me and Ricardo... It was just a bad domino affect and... I shouldn't have blamed it even a little on you. I also shouldn't have assumed, maybe if I asked you first, things would've been different. None of it falls on you, it's all... on me."
Alex sighs, staring at his hands. "You know, Mike, I get it. I do. Losing friends, no matter the circumstances, always sucks. You have to realize by now I'm used to your temper. I was just waiting for you to say something, when you were ready. I knew you didn't really blame me. But like you said, it was just a domino affect. You had no idea how badly things would go, or how quickly. So... we're ok, alright?" When he looks back up, Mike is staring at him with relief and guilt mixed up into a little package that has been simply him for the past few weeks, if not months, and Alex's face softens. "It's gonna be ok, Mike. You just have to do what I did and give it time."
"That's not my best event," he admits with a small smile. "You probably guessed that too though."
Alex chuckles. "A bit, yeah." They sit in silence before he turns to look at him. "Ready to go inside then? See how hit or miss my commentary is?"
"Sure, why not. You are going to talk up how awesome I am, right?"
"Why, you don't do that enough yourself?"
It's after the match, he's watching the editing process in the back, and finds himself alternating between wanting to laugh or wanting to smack Alex for going on about how undersized he is in comparison to Wade, but really, the kid is good behind the desk. Not as good as Mike himself, of course, but he seems comfortable back there, keeping up with Tony Dawson impressively well considering it's his first time.
He smirks as Alex joins him, all grins and excitement after thanking Dawson and leaving the desk to see what his mentor had thought. "Well, you weren't half bad, kid."
Alex's eyes gleam. "That all you have to say?" he teases. "You didn't think I was as good as you? If not better?"
"Hey, don't get ahead of yourself." Mike slaps him on the arm. "You have a lot of learning to do. But let's just say, with time, you could be the next Miz. How's that?"
"Eh, I guess it'll do." He smirks as they stand shoulder to shoulder, watching the rest of the event as it's edited, taking weird camera angles out and cleaning it up for television and online viewing. Once that's done, they head back to the locker room as it begins to fill up, the Smackdown group arriving to prepare for the evening matches and segments. "You ready for Heyman?"
"Of course. I have all that I want to say to him up in here," Mike nods, pausing while changing quickly into his suit to tap his forehead. "And if Axel wants to get involved, all the better." He looks forward to facing off with the Intercontinental champion, get another opportunity to get his title back. Finally...
Except that his show doesn't go that well and he's left laying by Curtis Axel, who had interrupted his trying to grill Paul Heyman, reminding him of the week prior when he'd bullied Renee Young about her personal life. As he stares blurrily down the ramp, glaring at his rival, he swears he can hear AJ Lee laughing in the back of his head, closing his eyes in aggravation before slapping his fist against the mat.
"Are you ok?" Alex asks as he makes his way backstage, gripping the back of his head.
"Yeah, just... ugh!" He stops in at the trainer's office only long enough to get some ice, before ducking back out and returning to the locker room, Alex following him quietly. They sit and watch the rest of the show, Mike grimacing at Kaitlyn's attempt of pretending to be AJ, going through all of the men she'd supposedly been with.
"Well, that was... awkward," Alex mutters.
"No kidding." When Fiesta Del Rio begins a bit later, Mike adjusts the now slushy bag of ice against his neck and watches as Del Rio cuts a promo in Spanish, Ricardo next to him eating a chip from the table behind them. He has to laugh when the Mexican aristocrat takes a stick to the pinata overhead that they'd put Ziggler's face on, sending candy all over the floor of the ring. But all fun dies away when Ziggler interrupts and attacks both men, first sending Ricardo out of the ring where he lands roughly on his feet before faceplanting into the mat. Mike cringes, remembering his ankle issues, before Ziggler continues to attack Alberto.
Ricardo returns, however, looking like he wants to splash Dolph from the top rope, but Ziggler spots him and slings him over, sending him straight through the table with all of the food and decorations on it. Ziggler turns his attention back to Alberto but the World champion escapes through the crowd, unfortunately leaving Ricardo behind to scramble out of the shards of the table just to take a guitar to the upperbody and face. Mike pales as the harsh impact echoes through the locker room, everyone falling silent at the pure sound. "Dammit," he hisses, the bag of cold water slipping from his fingers and hitting the floor. "Come on, kid."
He and Alex move quickly through the hallway, arriving back at the gorilla position just as a referee and Del Rio help Ricardo to the back, his head bobbing limply against his chest with each step. Alberto glares at him but says nothing as they quietly follow them to the trainer's office, the man quickly working at examining him once he's settled on a cot. There's a visible welt already growing along Ricardo's jaw up to his cheek, and his arm where he'd tried to deflect the blow is bruising nicely, but he comes to with a minor bit of coaxing from Del Rio, groaning as the trainer begins tending to his arm.
"It's ok, amigo. It's ok." Alberto pats the uninjured side of his face and struggles to smile before realizing he's looking elsewhere, following his gaze- directly onto Mike. "Get out of here, perros," he hisses, not wanting the abrasive superstar to cause his friend more pain. "Now."
But ultimately, it's Ricardo who stops this. "El Patron," he breathes. "It's ok." Alberto stares at him uncertainly, shaking his head slowly, but Ricardo nods wearily at him. "Let them stay, por favor."
Mike blinks a time or two before venturing closer to the cot. "Ricardo... Hey, man."
"Hey." He licks his lips, closing his eyes as his head throbs anew. "Ow."
Alberto's face twists in sympathy and he strokes a hand through the younger man's hair, purposely ignoring Mike. "Relax, mi amigo. Everything's ok."
His eyes flutter open again, dull and dark with pain, before he looks from side to side. "I'm glad you're both here," he mumbles, dozing off almost immediately afterwards and missing the awkward glance Del Rio and Mike shoot each other.
As they sit and wait for the trainer to finish looking him over, determining that his injuries are relatively minor, none of them are aware that this is only the beginning...
Mike sits backstage with Alex, his head tilted curiously as he stares at the TV, Raw cycling through another clip of former champions. "Mike, man, seriously, if you sit like that much longer," Alex grouses after awhile. "You're making my neck hurt."
"It's just... I dunno," he says. "They said Ricardo's injured but nothing beyond that. Trainer said on Friday that everything seemed ok... so what gives?" Alex shrugs but Mike still dwells on it, trying to figure out what might've happened between Friday and today, why the whole situation feels so bizarre to him. Finally he has to let it go, at least for now. He has a match against Ryback and considering what's happened the past times he's faced the beast, he's not looking forward to it.
He's had couches thrown at him, been shellshocked nearly through the mat, and many other things that makes him dread what's to come, especially this close to Money in the Bank. But he keeps his chin up and sees his match through anyway, only minisculely comforted that Jericho is on commentary, just in case he might need some backup later on. Despite Ryback dominating at first, Mike quickly finds an in and takes advantage of his knee injury from the Friday before, kicking it and loosening him up for a potential figure four. He's in the zone, just about to force him into the hold, when the man waves the match off. Forfeits. He gapes at him in disbelief, almost wanting to laugh as Ryback yells at him, just to turn into a Crossbreaker from a waiting Jericho.
In disbelief at winning in such a weird fashion, he heads backstage and rejoins Alex, "Well, I have to say," he comments, slinging an arm over his best friend's shoulders. "I've won a match in a great many ways, but none quite like that." Alex laughs too and they sit through the rest of the show, Mike's focus now turning back to Ricardo and what that situation is exactly.
Unfortunately, when Del Rio comes out alone, Mike fears the worst, especially when the announcers only reiterate that Ricardo is injured, reairing footage from Friday. After a long back and forth between he and Cena that only adds to Mike's impatience, Del Rio loses when Ziggler gets involved, slowly making his way back to the backstage as Mark Henry and Cena face off to end the show. "Come on," Mike orders Alex tensely, leaving the locker room to find Del Rio, needing answers.
When they finally find him, he's pacing around outside, wind blowing over his bare skin and cooling him down after his match as he walks back and forth in front of the door. "Amigo, it's ok. Everything will be fine..."
Mike slips outside and swallows, looking over at Alex as they continue to listen to Alberto, who slips back into Spanish as he talks to who could only be Ricardo on the other end. As soon as he hangs up a few minutes later, he turns towards them and sneers, eyes flashing dangerously. "You two spying on me?" he snaps. "How did your four years of Spanish do for you then, Miz?"
He's almost inside, slamming past them, when Mike finds his voice. "What's going on? That was Ricardo, right? Is he ok?"
Alberto skids to a stop and looks like he wants to twist around swinging, but he holds himself still, the very definition of tense control as he turns to glower at them. "No, he is not ok." Mike stares up at him, shaking his head in worry, and Del Rio hisses through his teeth. "He failed wellness. He was suspended."
Mike feels like gravity is failing him, unable to believe what he's hearing. "Wha- what?" Many things race through his mind, going through the various things that could cause a fail in one of the wellness tests they were all regularly put through. Small things, big things... He wonders if perhaps, all of the injuries he'd suffered had finally caught up to him, and he had- but no, that doesn't exactly fit with Ricardo either. "What happened?"
"Although I don't find it to be any of your business, for whatever reason, he seems to still consider you something of a friend, despite how I've told him that you've shown your true colors during the commentary nonsense," Del Rio tells him coldly. "And I suppose it's better than speculation and rumors or whatever else giving you the wrong idea about him when it's officially announced in the morning." Mike looks like he wants to say something at this, but ultimately stays quiet as Alberto approaches him, the arena door clicking shut loudly behind him once more. "He was busted for taking fat burners. That's all. Fat burners." He laughs bitterly.
Mike stares into his cold, emotionless eyes, and reflects on why exactly he's so angry, had been from the minute he'd come out for his match solo. Guys like Swagger could get away with DUIs and all sorts of things, but something like using a fat burner and... He swallows, the pieces of the puzzle clicking together into a depressing pattern in his mind. "Dammit," he breathes. Alberto grimaces at him once more before turning and returning to the arena, to get ready to leave, done talking to either of them. "Dammit," is all Mike can find in himself to repeat, slumping down to the warm concrete and leaning against the building.
Alex sits down next to him and takes a breath, unsure what to say. "What can I do, Mike?" he finally whispers, wanting to help his former pro somehow, the sadness and pain washing off of him in waves.
Mike stares into the darkness for long, agonizing moments, before looking over at him. "Japan's soon," he says blankly. "When I'm there... when you can... will you check in on him? Just... make sure he's ok?" He knows that Del Rio will also still be state-side, not being on the Japanese tour with them, but considering that it was understandably like pulling teeth just to get the information out of him about the suspension, he thinks it'd help to at least have one friendly person in contact with the ring announcer, especially one who lived in the same state.
"Sure man," Alex agrees, smiling. "Hey, he'll be ok, Mike. He's strong. Look at all he's been through, and he's still standing."
Miz smiles faintly, eyes solemn. "Yeah, I know. It just... it sucks." He rests the back of his head against the building, sighing. "This damn business makes no sense sometimes..."
"Can't argue with that one," Alex mumbles.
Miz has already left for Japan, Alex returning to Florida when he decides to uphold his promise to Mike from jump. Only taking the time for a quick shower and bite to eat after his flight, he then finds the address that Mike had entered into his phone, tapping a finger against the screen thoughtfully. "Well, here we go," he mutters. Del Rio's home is in one of the fancier, very rich parts of Tampa, and Alex has never really been there before.
After getting turned around a bit, he finally finds the place and drives up to the gate, suddenly feeling very out of his element. There's an intercom on the gate and he winces at it, pressing it. When it's finally answered, a female voice greeting him, he swallows and stares at the camera that's aimed right at him, a red light now flashing. "Uh, hello. I'm Alex Riley, I- I work in the WWE, I'm here to see Ricardo?"
There's a lengthy pause until finally she says, "One moment." He sits and waits, certain that she'll come back with demands for him to get off of the property, or Del Rio himself come out to escort him personally, especially after what he'd said to Mike the night before, but instead, there's a rough buzzing sound and the gate swings open. "Follow the driveway to the front door," the woman's voice says.
Upon doing that, following the circular drive to where a woman with dark hair wrapped up in a bun and a watchful, maternal look in her deep brown eyes is standing, waiting for him, he parks his car and gets out slowly, blinking at the impressive house sprawled out before him, its grounds equally as ridiculous. "Damn," he mutters. As he hesitantly approaches, he smiles. "Um, hi. Thanks for letting me inside."
"Hello. I am Sofia, I am Senor Del Rio's housekeeper." She tilts her head at him, watching him closely as he nears her. "I watch WWE for Senor Del Rio and Rodriguez, I have seen you a time or two and Senor Rodriguez has talked about you. You are friends with Mike Mizanin, si?"
Alex grins. "Yeah, you could say that." She smiles at him a bit. He grows a little more solemn, however, as she motions him into the house. "How is Ricardo doing?"
She sighs, glancing at him as she shuts the front door behind them. "He is hanging in there. It'll probably cheer him up to see a colleague, however. He has been forced to remain home in the past, when injured, but now... when he's healthy, well..." Her voice trails off and it's obvious she's worried for the younger man. But she shakes her head and smiles, wandering off towards the hallway. "I'll go get him for you."
"Thanks." Alex watches her go, then looks around at what he can see of the massive house from here, not wanting to seem like he's snooping in Del Rio's house while alone. A few moments later, he hears shuffling footsteps and looks up to find Ricardo approaching, looking warily at him. He seems pale and a little glum, but more put together than Alex thinks he would be if something like that had happened to him so suddenly. "Hey, man."
"Hola." He stares at Alex for a long moment before walking the rest of the way into the foyer. "Is there something you needed, Alex?"
Alex chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, shrugging. One thing he hadn't been able to work out was how to broach this subject without coming right out and saying that Mike wanted him to check on Ricardo, not sure how the younger man would react to that, after everything. "Not really, but I just figured since we're both in Florida, and a lot of the roster is in Japan, I have a couple of days to myself before I have to go do commentary for Superstars..." Ricardo nods, eyes dropping to the ground at this, and Alex almost wants to bash his head into the nearest wall for stupidly mentioning anything about the WWE now, but ultimately powers through it, moves past the awkward moment. "Well, I noticed someone was tweeting about charity work and I was thinking... you up for some company with that?"
Ricardo blinks, looking back up at him. "Really? You... want to come with me to help people in need?"
Alex grins, relieved that he'd totally rescued that earlier fumble, distracting the ring announcer from it. "Sure, man. I like doing things like this, when I have some free time, but I'm never sure where to begin, what places to go to, especially since I'm traveling so much. You probably understand." At Ricardo's nod, he takes a breath and rests a hand on his shoulder. "So what do you say, wanna go do this thing?"
Ricardo smiles for, Alex suspects, the first time since his suspension. "Si, Alex. I'd like that."