A/N: BtB is going on a brief hiatus after this chapter because I'm going to be spending some time with my best friend, and I won't be watching WWE while I do so. As soon as I get caught back up on what I miss, I'll write and post BtB 166 and EuM 6 and 7, presumably at some point around the beginning of the week of the 23rd. Thanks for your patience and hope this chapter holds you all over until then!

With Mike off in Abu Dhabi, Alex finds himself once more behind the commentary desk at Main Event, struggling to toe the line between speaking his mind, trying to be entertaining for the people watching at home, and not going too far and getting in trouble with HHH or any of the other McMahons, feeling the stress of the backstage politics as much as the next person. When the hour finally comes to an end, he breathes a little easier, running through his check off list. Spoke carefully about this situation as much as Josh would allow me, he thinks. And didn't compare Morrison to Fandango or anyone else who would annoy Mike. I guess I can claim it as a success then.

He shakes hands with Josh before making his way backstage to collect his things and return to the hotel, where he hangs out until Smackdown, only leaving now and again for food and some fresh air when his thoughts about what all's been going on with Mike and Daniel Bryan and Cody Rhodes and everything else get too heavy to handle. With Mike not there, he's once again reminded of just how much he hates the silence of not having his best friend alongside him. At least with it being Friday now, RVD and Ricardo will be arriving shortly and, since it had seemed ridiculous for them to be in separate rooms, the three of them would be sharing a room. He looks forward to having some company, even if it means he gets stuck staring on in horrified awe as the highflyer contorts his body yet again.

But when he finally sees Ricardo and RVD, it's not in such happy surroundings, the three men standing tensely on the top of the ramp along with the rest of the other superstars, Alex swallowing as Ricardo looks nervously over at him. His only relief is that Miz isn't here tonight to get in any more trouble, but RVD looks calm, focused, as HHH begins to talk about Monday and what's best for business and all that had happened with Cody. He tries to target Alicia Fox, who meekly shakes her head and attempts to hide from him, which isn't easy considering she's one of the tallest divas in the WWE currently. Alex feels for her, but eventually a few others speak up and then- RVD himself comes up to the mic, Alex's lips parting in worry as Ricardo stands anxiously next to him.

A-Ri isn't sure what exactly RVD says throughout, the buzzing in his ears too loud to hear through as he nervously glances around, his eyes falling, for whatever reason, on Del Rio, who is standing a bit ahead of him, his hands tense on his title belt as he glares over at his former ring announcer and his opponent at Night of Champions. He blinks a time or two, thinking that the older man looks less angry and more... concerned? but then HHH begins talking again, making matches for later that evening, and he puts RVD in a match against... the so-called Face of the WWE, the WWE champion, Randy Orton, next.

Alex swallows and starts to follow the others back, pausing only long enough to clap Ricardo on the shoulder as they go different directions, the ring announcer smiling weakly at his roommate, trying not to let his still-lingering anxiety show, though Riley can see it easily. He sighs and finds the nearest monitor, having a strange feeling about all of this. His worry is proven when Del Rio remains at ringside, going to the table to do commentary during the match. "Oh hell," he mutters. The Mexican aristocrat's commentary is brutal, rude, calling Ricardo a thief and many other things that makes Alex want to reach over to the production table not far from where he's at and mute the whole damn commentary desk, but he only just refrains, most doubts from what he'd seen in Alberto's eyes earlier wiped from his mind.

He watches closely as RVD is thrown out of the ring, Ricardo immediately going to check on him, just for Orton to slide out of the ring nearly on top of him. Ricardo scrambles back and hits the floor hard, desperate to get away from the viper, who barely sneers at him before turning his attention to his opponent. In the melee, Alex realizes that Del Rio had made it to his feet, standing by the side of the table, watching the proceedings, and dammit all, he's got that look on his face again. Riley swallows, shaking his head in disbelief, as Ricardo leans against the apron, desperate to cheer his new friend on as the match continues inside of the ring.

All Alex can do is gape as Del Rio comes from the side and grips the ring announcer, throwing him into the turnbuckle post with absolutely no warning, the younger man immediately crumpling to the floor near the barrier wall, frighteningly motionless. The rest of the match moves quickly from there, RVD getting away from Orton and diving out of the ring in defense of his friend, taking Del Rio down. Unfortunately it allows Orton to take control, the champion attacking him and tossing him into the commentary table before throwing him back into the ring for a quick victory. Alex closes his eyes as Del Rio smugly enters the ring and stands over his opponent at Night of Champions before locking in the armbar, wrenching back on it determinedly.

When he makes his way back awhile later, Riley is waiting for the referees to finish helping Ricardo and Rob backstage and their eyes lock, Alex swallowing as he sees absolutely nothing like what he thought he had seen earlier in his dark gaze. Alberto sneers before pushing his way past the former NXT rookie, almost pushing him towards the entrance ramp, Alex only just stopping himself before he gets tangled up in the curtain. "Bastard," he mumbles, still standing there when the other two finally appear, Ricardo holding his head gingerly as RVD presses a hand between his shoulderblades, the arm that had been locked into Del Rio's brutal submission held closely to his core to keep it from being jostled.

"Lo siento," the ring announcer mutters, wavering slightly as Alex moves closer and supports him on the other side. "I- I... cost you that..."

"Don't worry about it, man. It wasn't your fault," RVD tells him, brushing it off. "Del Rio'll pay for all of it next Sunday when I walk out World Heavyweight Champion."

He sighs glumly and glances over at Alex, who nods in agreement at him. "I suppose," he murmurs, still feeling vulnerable and out of place. The last time he had inadvertently cost someone a match, well... everyone had seen how that one had ended. He closes his eyes, licking his lips as he remembers the look on Del Rio's face from that night, the pain- emotional, physical, all encompassing- as his boot had landed against his skull, leaving him with a throbbing headache nearly exactly like this one.

The trainer sets on them immediately, running IMPACT tests on Ricardo, erring on the side of caution considering his history with neck and head injuries, before carefully examining Rob's arm, eventually confirming that they're going to be fine, urging them to rest that night, come back to him right away if they have any other problems. Alex wraps an arm around the ring announcer's shoulders, leading him out of the room with Rob on his other side. "C'mon, guys. Sleep sounds pretty good to me too right about now," he says. "Let's go back to the hotel."

This is easily agreed upon and Alex drives them back, Rob and Ricardo saying very little through the trip. As soon as they're all inside of the room, Ricardo releases a soft groan. "I forgot, we never did figure out who was going to take the couch, since there's only two beds."

Alex smiles a little, thinking about how when it was him, Mike and John, it didn't matter- the three of them comfortable enough with each other to just split the beds with little fuss, one of them getting a bed to himself while the other two fought over pillows and covers in hissed whispers and tried not to kick the other in their sleep. But Ricardo and RVD are relatively new friends, not to mention Ricardo and Alex had only started to get to really know each other a month and a half ago. Along with the fact that the other two are hurting, Ricardo still squinting now even in the soft glow of the lamp, and RVD is gingerly prodding his arm while thinking, so Alex quickly decides it for them. "I'll take the couch."

"Are you sure?" Ricardo asks even as he drops down on top of it, eyes wide.

"Yep, it's comfortable enough." He's so tired after the stresses of the last week that he thinks he'd have been able to sleep on the floor, though he thinks the couch is a fair deal more comfortable than that. After RVD is settled in his bed and Ricardo finishes up in the bathroom, he grabs a pillow and spare set of sheets and drops them onto the couch before trudging carefully towards the other door. "Good night," he tells the two men, yawning slightly as he shuts the bathroom door behind him, exhaustion weighing him down only now eased by having the general sounds and comfort of not being alone surrounding him once more.

Hours later, the room is quiet, dark, as Alex rests peacefully on the couch, RVD also fast asleep on the furthest bed to the left. Nonetheless, a soft groan rends the air, Ricardo's head rolling in distress against his pillow as he fights against something in his dreams.

There's a warmth near him, breaking through his exhaustion and agony, terror and heartbreak. It's familiar, comforting, and he wishes he could open his eyes, move, embrace the sensation and never let it go, but he has a bizarre feeling that it's fleeting, about to fade away entirely. He's startled when the voice that had guided him through the last three years of his personal and professional life begins to speak next to his ear, sounding about as broken as he feels. "You'll always be mi mejor amigo, and I know whatever you do from here on, you'll excel at. Because you do at everything, si?" A broken laugh, a soft breath, and then more words breaking through the gloom holding Ricardo down. "I will be watching your successes proudly... as I've always been so very proud of you. You are stronger than most realize, it's time for you to show it, mi amigo." There's an tender pressure on his head that somehow feels like farewell, and ...

He jerks awakes, gasping and fighting off the sheets clinging to his lower body, sitting up in a daze. "El Patron?" he forces out, staring ahead blankly. Comes back to himself slowly, remembers everything- the terrible beatdown a little over a month ago, the things his former employer had said about him on twitter, TV, and everywhere in between since. Ricardo's own response, returning with RVD. The interview that had cast some doubt on what Ricardo had believed in until the past week when Alberto had shown his nasty side yet again, Ricardo's fingers grazing his forehead as he remembers being pushed into the post by his former friend mere hours earlier. And yet, yet the words that he had heard seemed so... real, so... unbelievably true...

He takes a breath and looks over at Alex, who is still fast asleep on the couch, then at RVD, who is also unaware of what new turmoil is haunting the ring announcer only a few feet away. Not wanting to disturb either man's much needed rest, he sinks back down into his sheets, beyond troubled. "Was it only a dream? But..." He sniffs, wishing that everything following August the 5th wasn't such a horrible, painful blur, that he could remember... "It felt so real." He stares at his hands, unsure if it's just that he wants it to be real.

He doesn't sleep for the rest of the night.

Mike takes a breath when he arrives in Canada mid-Monday afternoon, exhausted and more than a little jetlagged. Quickly finding his rental car, he heads for the arena, dialing his phone and setting it to hands free while he watches a red light take its sweet time turning green. "Hey, A-Ri," he greets his friend when he answers the phone. "How's things?"

There's a pause and finally his former protege sighs. "So-so, I guess."

Mike frowns, not liking the sounds of that as he finally drives away from the slow intersection. "Talk to me, Alex. What's wrong?"

"I guess... same old," he breathes. "I don't know, things are still really tense here and... Ricardo's acting weird, and... everything's just not the same without you here. You know how it is."

Miz smirks a little, though he quickly turns back to what Alex had said before. "What do you mean, Ricardo's acting weird?"

"I'm not sure," he says. "It's just... Del Rio threw him into the turnbuckle post on Friday, and RVD lost his match while trying to help, and... he's just not been the same since. Trainer says he's not concussed, or anything. He just seems... sad." He looks over his shoulder at where Ricardo is sitting close to RVD, both men meditating. He has no doubt that RVD considers the ring announcer a friend, but the highflyer is so relaxed and easygoing, he's not sure Rob's the right one to notice when there is a problem brewing. And Alex had tried talking to him, but Ricardo would just smile and brush it away, merely to return to silent ruminations not long afterwards. "Maybe you can help him more than I can."

Mike sighs. "Alright, I'll be at the arena in less than ten. See you then."

"Bye."

Hanging up, Miz closes his eyes and thuds his palms against the steering wheel before turning the last block towards the arena. He'd wanted badly to see AJ right away, but for now, Ricardo sounds like he needs him more, so he walks instead to the main locker room, bag held securely over his shoulder. Alex looks up immediately, anxiously tapping his phone against his knuckles, before standing. "Hey," Miz tells him, clapping him on the back as he hugs him, relieved that he's back. Blue eyes turning towards Ricardo, he waits, not wanting to disrupt the meditation session. "So... he's been acting off, huh? How so?"

"Not as bad as directly after the attack by Del Rio, but still," Alex tells him softly. "Enough to be concerned by, I think. He just seems... not himself."

Mike sighs. "Alright, well, I don't know if it's anything to worry about, he's been through a lot the last couple of months and that stuff doesn't just leave you, but I'll talk to him when he's... you know, not ohm-ing all over the place." He grins mirthlessly. "I'm not sure why I always attract the meditative, poetic types, but hey."

Alex chuckles and they settle in to wait, Miz telling him lowly about Abu Dhabi. He's just finished up the third story when Ricardo opens his eyes and stretches with a sigh, dark eyes blinking as he glances around. "... Mike?"

"Well, it took you long enough," the most must see superstar teases him, smirking as Ricardo stands and joins them. "How's it been going?"

"Eh, alright, I guess." But there's a look in his eyes that Mike isn't very pleased by, his smile looking fake and forced. "How was Abu Dhabi?"

"It was ok, I'll tell you about it later after I see what's in store for me tonight." Miz smirks grimly as he ponders what HHH could possibly have planned tonight. But for now... "Hey, mind coming with me for a minute? We can get some stuff from catering for everyone, and you can tell me what's been going on."

Ricardo hesitates, glancing over at Rob for a moment, before finally nodding. "Si, sure. Let's."

Alex watches as they leave, sighing. "Good luck, Mike."

They're in line, waiting for people in front of them to finish collecting their food already, when Mike nudges Ricardo. "Are you sure everything's ok? I saw what happened on Smackdown... I wish I'd been here-"

"No, it's fine," Ricardo says quietly. "I understand last minute media tours all too well, don't worry about it. I was, and still am, fine." But it's visible that something's troubling him and he swallows, closing his eyes against Miz's piercing stare. "I... I've just been having dreams, is all."

"What kind of dreams?"

"I..." He swallows. "I think they're from... that night. That Del Rio- that... he..." His voice fails him and he sighs harder. "I hear his voice, and it's like I'm unconscious, I can't move or speak or anything... but I can hear, and he's telling me... all of these things that make no sense." He stares up at Mike, desperation bleeding from his gaze. "I do not... understand it, but I can't deny that the dreams feel... real..."

"What's he saying?" Mike whispers, forgetting everything around him as he stares down at the ring announcer.

"That, that I will always be his mejor amigo, and he's proud of me, and it's time for me to prove how strong I am, and-" He cuts himself off, his desperately trying not to cry choking his attempts at further explanations. "It makes no sense, I know. I guess I just- I miss him sometimes, or at least the man he used to be, and... this is my subconscious' way of trying to make me feel better?"

Miz remembers that night all too well also, sitting at ring side watching Ricardo get beat down at the hands of Del Rio and having to help him backstage alongside Alex... leaving to collect Ricardo's things from Del Rio's locker room, relieved to find the Mexican aristocrat gone. Returning to the trainer's office to find Ricardo's bowtie waiting, left carefully behind on the counter... He swallows, closing his eyes. They'd never told Ricardo about that, just leaving his bowtie in amongst his things as they'd packed him up to take him to California where he'd be safe, so much happening that they hadn't seriously thought about it since then. But now, with these odd dreams, it's all brought back to the forefront of Mike's mind and he takes a breath, wondering if perhaps it all had happened, if Del Rio's subdued, morose reactions the past few weeks had been... because of... but no way, right? That's impossible. There's just no way...

"Mike?" Ricardo whispers. "Are you ok? We're- we're holding the line up..."

"Oh, right." He smiles warily and walks forward, trying not to let all of his thoughts show on his face. What if, though...

He leaves Ricardo with Alex and a now alert Rob before walking away, still trying to think through everything that he suspects, finding his way to AJ's locker room with a small smile. As soon as he knocks, she answers and grips his hand, dragging him inside. He laughs against her lips as she kisses him hello, hissing softly when she digs her nails into his shoulders, bringing him over to the couch. As soon as they're settled, AJ resting her forehead against his, he smiles up at her. "Missed me a little, huh?"

"Something like that," she nods, tangling her fingers in his hair. "I can't stay long, I want to commentate that divas match that's upcoming."

"Mm," he says, hands resting against her midsection lazily. "Alright. I have a match against Sandow not long after that, I think. I would've been here sooner, but I guess Ricardo's been having a hard time of it since I've been gone, so I wanted to make sure he was ok first."

She sighs. "I guess that's what I get for being with a guy who's such a loyal friend," she teases him, subtly kissing his nose. He smirks up at her as she leans against his neck, whispering, "I guess you'll just have to make it up to me..."

"Oh, I will," he promises lowly, pulling her closer.

A little later, he walks her to the gorilla position, nodding quietly at Alicia Fox, Aksana and Layla, before returning to the male locker room to look in on his friends. The three of them are all still there and he joins them to watch the divas match, losing all track of the action when Jerry and AJ get into it on commentary, the Divas champion snapping at him that she's too old for his tastes anyway, obviously throwing King off of whatever game he has left, just for him to snap back belatedly that she's too ugly for him too. Mike's eyes narrow warningly as his friends look over at him, the others scattered around the room buzzing or laughing at the argument raging on behind the desk.

"Idiotic old man," he hisses, remembering all of his dealings with Jerry when he'd been WWE champion, and various other situations through the years. "Ugh." Unfortunately it gets worse when Alicia taps to Natalya's submission hold, AJ's anger only growing as she stares up at her three opponents from the table. Mike's about to go to her when he learns that Del Rio's match is next, determined to be there for Ricardo, especially after earlier. Not wanting to leave her in the lurch again, he finds his phone and quickly texts her, urging her to join him in the locker room.

She's flushed with anger when she arrives, a simple glare from her enough to shut the mocking comments from all of the other men up, especially when they notice her joining Mike again, none of them wanting to get into a confrontation with him and his friends, risk gaining HHH's attention. Everyone had been flying under the radar as best as they could since Cody's firing, just wanting to come in, do their jobs, and leave with said jobs in tact. Mike is relieved for this, aware that he'd been taking a chance by inviting her in again, curling an arm around her and drawing her up against his side.

She hums as he presses a kiss to her ear, whispering to her while they wait for Del Rio vs R-Truth to begin. "Lawler's a fool. He's only ever done one good thing in his life." She pulls back and stares at him curiously as he grins at her in a way that makes some of the anger ease from her gaze, leaving her warm. "Having the heart attack that in a way led to this, us," he breathes, resting a hand on hers. "A year ago tomorrow, right?" It's a somewhat evil thought and most would look twice at him for even daring to verbalize such things, but it's AJ. He has no doubt she'll understand.

Her eyes shine as she examines him, amused by the realization that, yeah, a year ago tomorrow, the moment that had ultimately caused her to fall for Mike had happened, brought them here to this moment. She wraps her arms around him and kisses him deeply, only pulling away slightly when the bell rings for Alberto's match, allowing him to focus on what's happening in the ring and with the younger man sitting next to him.

Thankfully it's a fairly standard match, Ricardo barely reacting throughout it, though he does still look glum, and Mike has no doubt that he won't be forgetting his dream anytime soon. Once it's over, Mike realizes that his match is soon and he nuzzles against AJ for a moment before pulling away to stand up. "I gotta go get ready, my match is coming up."

"Good luck," Ricardo offers with a smile, trying to blink away his distraction.

"Thanks." Mike changes into his ring gear quickly, taping his wrists up before gripping AJ's hand. "Wanna come with to gorilla?"

"Sure," she smiles, standing. They walk side by side to the entrance ramp and he kisses her softly. "I'll be watching from here."

"Alright," he tells her softly. "I'll be back in a little bit." As he hops around a bit, trying to loosen up, Santino runs by, looking proud after his win. "Hey, welcome back," Mike says, smirking at the hyperactive Italian.

"Ah, grazie!" he says, all smiles and energy as he rushes back to the main locker room, AJ blinking in subdued exasperation at his actions.

Mike grins over at her briefly before making his way to the ring, effectively interrupting whatever it is Sandow is about to say. Their match goes back and forth for awhile, Miz thinking he perhaps is close to winning, when Fandango's music hits, the man himself dancing out with Summer Rae and distracting him effectively. So much so that Sandow achieves a cheap rollup victory against him, leaving Mike stewing as he glowers up the ramp at the other man, wanting nothing more than to shut him up once and for all.

He storms backstage and stops short, looking over at AJ as she stares up at him sympathetically, breathing heavily as she walks up to him, taking his hand. "I'm sorry you lost," she says softly, squeezing his hand. "One of those nights, huh?" He nods and she begins to pull him back to her room, ignoring the main locker room as they walk past it.

He's leaning against the back of the couch, AJ idly tracing circles in his arms, when Justin Roberts announces Ricardo, adding in that he's "RVD's numero uno amigo", which makes Mike chuckle softly when he sees the look on the ring announcer's face in response, trailing his fingers down AJ's side in some worry as first Ryback and then Del Rio come out, Ryback somehow not taking the chance to attack Van Dam or Ricardo while Del Rio talks, calling Ricardo a peasant in Spanish and saying that RVD and Ricardo deserve each other, while he and his World Title will never be separated. "Yeah, because titles are all that matter in the world," he mumbles, hand pressed flush against AJ's lower back as he shifts to accommodate her some more, not noticing when she pauses for a moment before continuing to kiss his neck.

Thankfully Alberto leaves as the match starts, but it barely gets off the ground anyway as RVD kicks Ryback brutally, causing the larger man to curse darkly, the production truck only just bleeping him in time. From there it only goes from bad to worse as RVD tries to dive out of the ring and hits the barrier wall with his face, Ryback lifting him and ramming him groin first into the post twice until the referee is forced to call for a DQ, Ricardo standing a few feet away with his hands covering his face in worry and terror for his new friend. He leaves him trapped there for a few moments, adding insult to injury, before dragging him back to the ring, where he proceeds to slam him cruelly against the mat, leaving him struggling as he angrily heads back up the ramp.

Mike winces as he strokes AJ's back. "Damn," he breathes, knowing that that could not have felt great.

After helping the referee get a grimacing Rob back to the trainer's office, Ricardo sits by RVD's cot, his hands pressed together anxiously while the trainer bustles around, bringing ice over for the highflyer. He well remembers what feels like it'd been decades ago by now, sitting in an OR waiting room with Sofia by his side waiting for word on Alberto following surgery needed to repair his groin tear, his body still aching after his own injuries following being pushed off of a ladder into a table set up on the floor at TLC the week prior, the dwarfing brace that had been a staple of most of his time as Del Rio's ring announcer the only thing keeping his neck from being a constant source of agony. The months of rehab for them both, Alberto's growing anger at not being able to return prior to Wrestlemania... Ricardo winces, hoping that this won't be a repeat of that, especially when they're so close to Night of Champions and Rob's chance to become World Heavyweight Champion, pry the title from Del Rio's fingers.

But yet... he looks up uncertainly, catching Rob's eye. His dream, if it had been true... If those words spoken by Del Rio were legitimate and he still ended up assisting RVD to victory against him... He shakes his head, not wanting to think like that. It's not true. He hates me, has made it quite obvious this last month. Rob's the one who's been by my side, and Alex, Mike and John. Not Alberto. He closes his eyes, swallowing. Right?

He gapes when Rob reaches out abruptly, tapping his knuckles. "Hey," he says, voice sounding strained as he struggles against the mind numbing pain shooting up his core with every inhale or movement. "I'm gonna be ok, dude. Don't worry. Everything'll be fine."

Ricardo stares at him, nodding wearily. "Right. I believe you, Rob. We're amigos, right?"

"Hell yeah," he sighs, resting his head back against the padding of the cot. "Like Justin said, numero uno..."

The ring announcer smiles sadly. "Did you tell him to say that? I was wondering, but so much happened out there-"

"Yeah," RVD nods. "I did, while I was out filming that short video they aired before Del Rio's match." He takes a breath, examining Ricardo. "You've seemed kinda down since Friday, and I thought maybe it'd cheer you up. You know I don't blame you for Friday night, or tonight, right? These things just happen. I'd never do to you what Del Rio did, it's not my way. You're a good guy, no matter what he thinks, so don't worry."

Ricardo tries to smile even as doubts continue to haunt him. "Gracias, mi amigo." And if it sounds a little forced, he hopes Rob doesn't notice... This is the worst possible time to have second thoughts, so close to the pay per view, but he's not sure what to do, which way to turn. Ay, why did this have to happen now...? He struggles to take a deep breath, remind himself that Night of Champions is still days away, and whatever might happen on Smackdown may put any doubts he has to rest.

For now, he refuses to let RVD know about his uncertainty, determined to do what he can to help the aching man through the next few days.