A/N: Well, here we are. That happened. So I adapt. FYI, I've had plans for a few months now, just in case this happened, for a BtB spin off about ADR and Ricardo should they split. This'll be up in a few days.
The overseas tour is wrapping up, finally, most of the Superstars beginning preparations to return to America for the week's Raw, when Mike receives a text late Saturday morning. He yawns blurrily, staring over at his beeping phone, and sits up, trying to disentangle himself from the sheets. "Eh," he groans, wiping at his eyes while squinting at the bright glow, flashing Alex's name at him. "Now what?"
Hey, Mike, turn on your laptop. I wanna Skype so you can watch Smackdown now.
Miz grimaces and glances at the clock, shaking his head slowly. "10 AM, where does the time go?" he mumbles, fumbling for said laptop. As soon as it's booted on, he turns Skype on and finds an invite from A-Ri waiting for him. Accepting it, he wanders into the bathroom to splash water on his face, try to wake up a little more. He pauses when he hears voices and cheering coming from the device, however, turning to look over his shoulder. "Couldn't even say hi, Alex?" he calls out as he walks back to the laptop... just to find no one there, the only thing visible being the monitor showing Smackdown. "Well, then," he mumbles.
He's just barely sat down, however, getting comfortable, when the commentary table is shown and he abruptly understands. "Holy crap," he mutters. Alex himself is sitting at the table, grinning as he talks about how humble he is to be there this week, with JBL off climbing mountains. "Well, what do you know." Suddenly a lot more interested in the show, he pays attention, shaking his head at his friend's ability to keep this secret. "Damn, kid... So much for thinking they weren't interested in you as commentator..."
The show starts off with Del Rio 'selecting' his opponent for Summerslam, Mike's eyebrows furrowing when he selects Ricardo Rodriguez, unease tickling down his spine. "Hmm..." The ring announcer would be off of suspension by then, but-
Either way it doesn't matter as Vickie Guerrero interrupts, feeling offended by the selection. She forces a triple threat match to decide Del Rio's true opponent and Mike breathes a little easier at this, though Alberto looks truly angered when she calls him immature. He listens to A-Ri talk, smirking to himself when he says something about wishing he'd thought to throw Mike's briefcase into the Gulf of Mexico too... He continues to be amused with it all until Big E has a match against Sin Cara, which he wins- but it's A-Ri's commentary that gives Mike pause, as he first calls AJ cute, then says he feels for Big E. He sputters a bit before slapping a hand to his face, noting to have a little discussion with the guy afterwards.
He nearly forgets that, however, when AJ wrestles Kaitlyn again, Layla at ringside for the blonde... just to cost the former champion the match, skipping away from ringside with AJ. He blinks, tilting his head as Kaitlyn looks on, seeming as confused as he feels. "What the...?"
Finally the show ends and he's stuck watching a blank screen for awhile, the sound of people wandering back and forth as they prepare to leave the arena the only proof that the connection hadn't been lost. Finally the laptop moves and he thinks perhaps Alex is back but no, it's AJ's face that greets him, smirking as Layla hovers behind her. "Hey, Layla, say hi, Mikey is watching us. Aren't you?"
"Hi Miz!" his former Extreme Expose cohort greets him, smirking as she waves cheerfully at the webcam.
"Did you hear your little friend on commentary? He called me cute. Isn't that nice? He does remind me a little of you, but he's a little less annoying. Who knows, maybe while you're overseas, I should get to know him a little better..." She trails a finger teasingly across her lips, appearing deep in thought.
"Leave Alex out of this," he tells her lowly. "I mean, damn, AJ, you have to figure out which path you're taking- do you want to try to use Big E against me, or not? People are going to get bored of trying to understand you if you keep that up. You've just gotten one new friend, you don't want to scare her away this early, do you?"
"That's not possible," AJ snaps at him, eyes flashing dangerously as Layla rubs her shoulders comfortingly.
"We'll see, sweetheart," he tells her with a smirk. "Now give my friend his laptop back and leave us alone." The look on AJ's face when she looks up and over to find Alex standing behind them, his eyes narrowed unhappily, is golden, her movements careful and slow as she stands and stares at the other man. Thankfully she doesn't throw the device this time, handing it over with a bitter sneer before gripping Layla's hand and skipping out of the room with her.
Alex sighs, huffing as he sits down with the laptop held against his legs. "Sorry about that, Mike. I was trying to think of a better way to let you watch, hear me on commentary, but..."
"Don't worry about it. I am however curious about a few things you'd said on commentary..." He settles in with a smirk of his own as he begins to mock Alex about the things he'd said, letting go of whatever uncertainty he'd felt about the comments after seeing how Alex had reacted to AJ having his laptop, his anger undeniable.
Monday, Alex meets him at the Green Bay airport with a hug, pulling him out to the rental car without giving him even a second to look around. "What's got you so anxious to arrive at the arena already?" Miz asks, barely shutting his door before Alex peels out of the parking lot, a wide grin on his face.
"You'll see," he says, eyes on the road while he drives as quickly as he dares through the city streets, finally pulling to a stop at the building that'll be housing all of them for the next few hours. Mike is unimpressed at more secrets being kept but quietly gets his bags and follows Alex in, fumbling with the straps.
He comes to a sudden stop when he runs into his former rookie's back, almost dropping the bag entirely, but all anger drains from him when he looks up to snap at Alex, jaw dropping as he gets a clear look down the hallway at who's standing there, staring at them. "Ricardo?" he asks, releasing the bag on his own this time and barely noticing as it hits the ground with a thud. The ring announcer smiles at him, opening his mouth to speak, but he doesn't get the chance as Mike walks towards him, forgetting everything else until they're face to face. "Are you ok?"
Grinning now, Ricardo nods. "Si, I'm- I'm ok, Mike." He laughs when the Awesome One impulsively hugs him, snaking his arms around the other man's midsection tightly in response, patting his back. "I've missed you too."
Finally pulling away, Mike glances around, spotting Del Rio nearby with a strangely unreadable look on his face. He blinks, but ultimately turns his attention back to Ricardo, looking him over. "Well, you look no worse for wear. Glad to be back?" He wants to ask so much more but he's not sure that Ricardo knows that he knows it was suspension, and not an injury, that had kept him shelved for the last month, so he keeps that to himself, and hopes that Alex knows to do the same.
"Very," Ricardo says, smiling over at his employer, who nods with a smile of his own, Mike noting once more how strained he looks before Ricardo begins to talk again, distracting him. "And in time for Summerslam too, it'll be good to return to California for a week."
"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean. Hey, about that," Mike says, wrapping an arm around him and collecting his bag with the other as he leads him down the hall, Alex and Del Rio following them quietly. "We're planning a beach party... I'd like you to come-"
But such things stop mattering barely an hour later as Miz is sitting at commentary, mostly to talk up Summerslam, though he keeps a close eye on the match. He's still noticing some odd behavior from the world champion- like when he stops to glare out at Mike for no good reason in the middle of the contest- when Ricardo tries to set up the bucket to assist Del Rio in beating RVD. Unfortunately, it backfires, through no fault of the ring announcer's, when RVD reverses and sends Alberto into the bucket, allowing him to manage a victory against the World Heavyweight Champion. Mike grimaces, knowing that that probably won't help the Mexican aristocrat's bad mood that he'd observed since finding them in the backstage, when Ricardo enters the ring, trying to help his employer up. But Alberto is angry, something different this time than any other time Mike had seen him like this, cold and dangerous, and he merely stares at the ring announcer who is down on his knees now, pleading with his employer not to be angry, to-
But nothing works, Mike forgetting Summerslam, the beach party, how happy he'd been even ten minutes earlier, when Del Rio snaps off with a kick that floors Ricardo, the ring announcer trying to curl up on himself as Alberto hits him with the bucket, punches him, throws him out of the ring. Miz is frozen, unable to see what exactly he's doing from this position, not thinking to look at the monitors surrounding the table, when Del Rio takes a running start from the ramp and there's a dull, horrible thud that sounds like he'd just kicked the- the... Mike shakes his head, eyes wide as he realizes, numbly slipping the headset off and standing, unable to see anything over the ring still. By the time he regains control of himself, Del Rio is gone and referees and trainers are surrounding Ricardo, who is still not moving.
Once more rushing to the ring announcer's side, he pushes trainers aside to make room, skidding down next to the younger man. "Ricardo! Hey, hey," he whispers, gingerly touching his face. "Ricardo?" Still nothing and he looks up at the men surrounding them. "Wha- what..." He swallows, eyes wet as Alex joins them, both of them sharing horrified gazes before they stare back down at the unresponsive man. He curses desperately, resting his forehead against Ricardo's shoulder, muttering to him. "It's ok, we're here. You're- you're going to be ok."
A stretcher comes, finally, and Mike and Alex help where they can to move him, Miz unable to stop staring at his slack face. Although the circumstances are sharply different, all he can think is, Was this how it felt for Morrison the night of the draft? When I... I attacked him? But that... I didn't want to hurt him, I only set out to prove a point. I did the bare minimum and left him, this was... this was vicious. I don't understand. And if I feel this bad, Ricardo's going to be... he's going to be... Shaking his head, Mike rests a trembling hand on Ricardo's chest, unable to verbalize his thoughts any further, even in his own mind.
They follow the stretcher backstage, to the trainer's office, and Alex releases a deep breath as they settle the ring announcer on the cot, Mike unmoving from his side as the trainer continues to try to awaken him. "Mike," he says softly. "Mike. We need- need to figure out how to get his things. Del Rio-"
Miz stares up at him, realizing sharply that he's right. "Yeah. Of course. Dammit." He abruptly punches the wall, tears filling his eyes as all the more washes over his shoulders, weighs him down. No matter how scary it is, he's almost glad Ricardo is still unconscious and doesn't have to deal with the immediate fall out of what Del Rio has done. He leans down and stares at Ricardo's blank features. "I'll be back soon. Don't be scared, everything'll be... just fine..."
His hand still stinging, he slams out of the room, Alex behind him. His teeth grit as he storms through the halls towards the private locker room set aside for the World Champion, thinking he might kick it in, bash Del Rio's face in, whatever he has to do to get Ricardo's things out of there, so the ring announcer doesn't have to deal with any more crap right now. There's a lot more to think about, like Ricardo's things back in Florida, or at the hotel, but this is a start. This is something Mike can take care of right this moment...
Except that arriving to find the locker room empty, the door unlocked, is a bit of a let down as he stares inside, lips twisting in emotional disgust as he stares at Del Rio's various things laying around, Ricardo's care with his things obvious in every fold of his clothes, almost delicate position of everything else. "That fool, that damn idiot," he rants, tears blurring his vision as he finds Alberto's bag and gives it a vicious kick, wanting to do so much more to every item of Alberto's in the room, but there's no time, Mike unwilling to leave the ring announcer alone longer than absolutely necessary. He unzips Ricardo's bag and collects what he sees around that are clearly the younger man's, Alex helping where he can in the midst of Mike's maelstrom.
Finally they're done and Mike nearly snaps the door in two anyway as he slams it shut, fighting to breathe as he rushes back down the hallway, not bothering to look at anyone as they pass, Alex struggling to keep up with him. "Wait! Mike!" he finally calls out, picking up speed and all but tackling his mentor into the wall. "Stop. Stop. Seeing you so upset won't do Ricardo any good. Take a breath," he demands, shaking him carefully as he pins him there, Ricardo's bag dropping from his fingers as he shudders. "Just breathe."
"I don't know what to do," Mike admits. "I was- was always on the other side of this. How do I help him? I don't know what this feels like, I don't- I can't help him. Who can help him?"
Alex stares at him, compassionate and careful as he nudges him. "You know the answer to that, Mike. Who always helps us when we need it?"
They stare at each other for a long, painful moment, before Mike licks his lips. "John. John will know- John can help him." When Alex nods, he releases a shuddering breath and nods too. "Alright... ok. I can work with that." He wiggles out of Alex's grip and leans down, collecting the bag before taking a hesitant step and another towards the trainer's office. "I hope he wakes up soon..."
"Me too," Alex breathes, following him into the room. Mike's just settled the bag down, turning back to look at Ricardo, when Alex mutters, "Mike? Where did this come from?"
"What?" he asks, not really caring until his former NXT rookie walks up to him and holds out the familiar bowtie, the two of them staring down at it. Ricardo had taken it off during the match, hadn't been wearing it when he'd been brought in, and Mike swallows as he looks at it. "Hey, has anyone been in here?" he asks the trainer when he wanders by, keeping a close eye on Ricardo.
"Haven't seen anyone," he says simply, once more running a penlight over Ricardo's eyes.
Mike takes the bowtie from Alex, staring at it, another odd sensation brushing up his spine as the soft fabric tickles his palm. "Huh..."
Raw is ending and Alex is sitting with Ricardo, who'd woke up a little less than an hour ago. He hasn't spoke a word since, which breaks Mike further as he wonders again how Morrison had been directly after his betrayal- he'd seen him, yes, not long after that, for the Dirt Sheet and had even watched ECW and Smackdown, wanting to see what John's response would be, but the brave face he'd put on for TV had been one thing. He wonders how the man had been in the hours immediately following that upon waking up alone, in a hotel, faced with the realization that his best friend, his tag partner had turned on him with little warning. Yes, they'd argued badly leading up to it, but they'd always had arguments, it hadn't been that different... Hadn't hinted towards Mike's split second decision upon getting drafted to Raw.
Unable to remain inside any longer, Mike walks outside and stares up at the sky, stars twinkling overhead almost seeming to mock the turmoil within him. It's only worsened a little bit later, however, when he hears the door open and giggling voices pass by him, coming to a sudden stop although he's desperately hoping they don't notice him. "Hey, Layla, hang on," AJ's teasing voice tells the woman. "I'll be back in a second."
"Alright," she says, sounding almost confused as AJ skips back to the building.
"Mike."
"Not tonight, AJ," he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest and turning to head back inside.
"I bet it's weird for you, being on this side of betrayal... that's usually your thing, right? Leaving everyone around you laying in a broken heap... I bet if Del Rio hadn't done it first, you eventually would've caused the mockery you made of Rodriguez on the commentary table look like child's play..." She lets out an almost ugly little giggle, only cutting herself short when he turns back around and stares at her, his eyes flashing dangerously even in the shadows.
Lost in a haze of pain and anger, tired of her words, Del Rio's actions, his own thoughts, and everyone who seems determined to hurt everyone else, he grips her by the arms and pushes her against the wall, staring at her for a long moment before kissing her desperately as she stares up at him, thrown into speechlessness for once. When she begins to respond, giving as good as she's getting, he has to smirk, but it fades away quickly when he feels wetness on his face, uncertain if it's his or hers. When he pulls away, he's shocked and disturbed to realize it's a mix of both of theirs, the girl's breath hitching as he wipes at his own eyes. "I'm sorry," he mutters, turning away as she collects herself, sniffing quietly. "At least I've tried to fix things, instead of making it worse. But I think it's just too late, for all of us."
Layla ventures forward to check on her as he forces his way back into the building, not even bothering to wipe away the tears that continue to cascade down his face. How he regains control of himself before entering the trainer's office yet again, he's not sure, but Ricardo is now sitting up, watching as Alex paces back and forth, talking on the phone with Morrison. Mike walks forward and takes the phone from him, staring at the still silent ring announcer. "John. Hey. We need your help. That's right. Do you mind a houseguest for the next few days?"
As soon as he hangs up the phone, John agreeing to do so, Mike sits down next to the distraught man and wraps an arm around his shoulders, smiling soberly when he allows himself to rest back against Miz's chest, his nonstop trembling rattling through the older man. "Hey, let us take care of you for awhile, yeah? Until you feel like deciding on what you're going to do next. You can stay with John for a few days, until Alex and I are done with the rest of the week's wrestling stuff, and we'll be spending the next ten days in the California area, and we'll all just hole up in my house, and... and... we'll help you through this. How does that sound?"
Ricardo nods vacantly, his eyes dull and exhausted, and Mike buries his face in his hair, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him again. Thankfully Alex takes over, resting a hand on the ring announcer's arm. "Mike, I have an idea," he says, determination in his eyes as he looks down at the two men.
It takes some fast talking at the airport but the workers quickly transfer the tickets, Miz taking Ricardo's ticket to Florida with Alex while Ricardo heads off to California on his ticket, where Morrison will meet him at the airport and take him back to his apartment. Once they land and drop off their things at Alex's apartment, emptying their suitcases to make room for what's to come, Alex drives and Mike takes in the unfamiliar part of Tampa as they approach the richest part of the residential area. "Really?" he mutters in disbelief at the first look of Del Rio's large grounds and home.
Alex stops at the gate and presses the button. "It's Alex Riley," he says simply, barely blinking when the woman who'd answered lets them in with little said. As he parks at the door, she meets them, staring up at them with wet, pained eyes. "Hello again, Sofia," he greets her.
She releases a soft sniff. "Hola, Senor Riley. Senor Mizanin, I presume? Senor Rodriguez has talked highly of-" Her voice fails as she sobs faintly, looking away. "Lo siento, I just- I do not understand."
Mike feels for her, liking the housekeeper almost immediately. "None of us do, Sofia," he says softly, resting a hand on her shoulder. "It's nice to meet you, though I wish it was under better circumstances." As she nods, wiping at her face, he decides to turn to business at hand, instead of drawing out the torture for all of them. "He's not here, is he?"
"No, he has media responsibilities for the next day or two. You will have all of the time you need, I'll make sure of it." She shudders through her tears. "Por favor... one thing..."
"What can we do for you?" Mike asks, smiling sadly down at her, wishing he could do anything to make this easier for her, for any of them.
"Just... take good care of him," she requests, breaking down entirely as Alex steps forward, awkwardly hugging her. "I know you will, but it was... it was always... I was always the one to make sure he and Senor Del Rio were alright, especially whenever they were injured, and..." Her words are muffled against Alex's shirt as she clings to him, Mike watching them with a broken look in his eyes.
"Go ahead, Mike. I'll make sure she's ok, and be with you in a minute," Alex tells him softly, patting the housekeeper's back.
Mike scrubs at his face, nodding sharply as he marches into the house and walks down the halls towards the bedrooms, peering in first Del Rio's, glowering around inside, before turning towards Ricardo's. He has to smile despite himself when he walks inside, Zubaz filling the closet and various action figures of wrestlers on his shelves, along with Indy wrestling DVDs, books and knickknacks that just scream Ricardo as soon as he walks into the room. "Well, time to get started," he breathes, dropping the empty suitcases on the floor and opening them. It's difficult to know what to bring and what to leave behind, though he thinks perhaps it'd be symbolic, cathartic, down the road should Ricardo want to destroy whatever of Del Rio's merch he might have hanging around, so the shirts and the action figures and whatever else are carefully pushed into the cases, Mike relieved when Alex finally joins him. "Is she ok?"
"Yeah, she's drinking some water in the kitchen." He begins to fill his suitcases as well, seeming as anxious as Mike to get this over with. "Do you think we'll be able to fit everything in these four cases, and the carry ons?"
Mike makes a face. "A life in six bags? I'm not sure, but we'll do our best. I really do not want Ricardo to have to come back here, or have any communication with Del Rio. Until he's ready, anyway." Considering he still hadn't said a word, Mike doubts that would be any time soon, and he thinks leaving Ricardo's things here, where Del Rio could do whatever he wants with them, is far from a good idea.
It takes the better part of two hours, but finally- finally, they zip the last bag of Ricardo's clothes up and stare at each other, sitting side by side on top of it just to shut it. "Holy crap, we did it," Alex says, looking around at the room, empty of everything but furniture and shattered memories. "These bags will probably explode when we unzip them again, but yeah... I'd say we did a good job."
Mike nods, distracted when Sofia joins them, looking around the now lifeless room sadly. "Sofia, I'm sorry," he tells her. "It had to be done."
She releases a soft breath. "I know, Senor. I will miss him though. He was always so kind."
He smiles at her grimly. "We won't get you in trouble by doing this, will we? If Del Rio tries anything-"
She shakes her head. "No, Senor. Gracias, I'll be fine. Don't worry." She peers around the room, shuddering slightly. "The house already seems so much emptier..." Turning back to them, she smiles wanly, tears filling her eyes anew. "Is there anything I can get you before you go?"
Mike checks the clock on the bedside table, surprised to find it is so late. "No, Sofia, thank you though. We have a flight back to California in a couple hours that we have to catch." He smiles at her. "He's in good hands, I promise. We'll make sure he lands on his feet ok after all of this."
"Gracias," she whispers, following them out to the front door. She hesitates and licks her lips, watching them as they hesitate at the car after stuffing it with the suitcases, sensing she has something else she wants to say. "If you don't mind- perhaps tell him, when he... if he wants to ever talk... to please call me?"
Alex smiles sadly as Mike nods. "Of course, Sofia. We'll let him know. He just needs some time." She nods, murmuring her understanding, and they slip into the car, exchanging glances. "Let's get this show on the road, kid." With solemn waves to the lonely looking housekeeper on the front stoop of the house, they leave, heading for the airport, to return Ricardo's things to him and maybe catch a little sleep at John's before they have to catch another flight for the week's Main Event and Superstars.
"Think this week'll ever end?" Alex asks, groaning when Miz shakes his head wearily, both of them tracing out the excruciatingly long path to Summerslam in their minds..