Ricardo wakes up Tuesday morning, feeling strange and more than a little depressed. Though Thanksgiving had gone alright, and he'd even spent a couple of hours at the Smackdown event, visiting with people he hadn't seen much of the last couple of months, he can't stop thinking about Del Rio and Sofia, the pie pans in the kitchen and the clothes resting on top of his dresser a stark reminder of everything he knows Alex, Mike and John had tried to distract him from on Thursday and Friday before they all went their separate ways.
He groans faintly and rolls over, digging his nails into the thin sheets covering his body, when there's a soft knock at his bedroom door. He coughs and looks towards it, knowing it has to be Alex. "Come in," he finally calls out, clearing his throat to hopefully shake away some of the emotions still welling up within him.
Alex, sure enough, enters and glances around the room before turning to face Ricardo, smiling slightly. "How are you doing?"
"Ok," he shrugs, still wrapped up in the sheets to his chin. "Do you need something, Alex?"
Riley hemhaws over this before sitting down next to the younger man, clapping his hands together. "No, but you do." When he notes Ricardo's quizzical glance, he laughs aloud. "Come with me."
Ricardo sits up awkwardly, letting the sheets pool around his waist. He has on a sleeveless shirt and some black pants so he obliges, figuring if he wasn't dressed well enough for whatever Alex had planned, he'd at least say as much. But they don't even leave the apartment, Alex pausing in the living room and waiting for the ring announcer to catch up. "So-" he starts to say before his voice dies away, realizing what's waiting for him. Alex smiles at him as he looks left and right at the two bare Christmas trees on either side of him, a third much larger one waiting for attention in the corner of the living room. "Wha- what's this?" he whispers.
Alex laughs at the awe on his face before stretching his arms out so both touch either tree. "Well, they're Christmas trees, y'know." Quickly dropping his teasing, he steps forward and drops his hands on Ricardo's shoulders, squeezing carefully. "I have this weird thing where I get a big tree for the main room and decorate it a little but usually leave lots of space for whatever visitors I may get through the holiday season to put ornaments of their choosing on it. Then I get a smaller tree for my bedroom and do whatever the hell I want with it, so I have something cool to stare at too, you know? But it didn't feel fair to leave you out, so the second trees is yours."
Ricardo stares at it, lip trembling as he realizes. "You- you didn't have to go to all of that trouble-" he chokes out, horrified as the tears he'd been trying to hold back since finding the pies and clothes on the stoop finally have their say, pouring slowly down his face in miserable rivulets.
Alex makes a soft tsking noise, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him into a hug, sighing as he cries into his shirt. "Yeah, man. I did. I can't undo all of the crap you've had to endure this past year, and I'm sorry for that, but I can try to make Christmas marginally better for you, and I will."
"Gracias," he mutters into his collar, looking over his shoulder at the trees. "For everything, Alex. I don't know what I'd do without you, or Mike, or- or..."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that, man," he says, smiling slightly as he pulls away and gives Ricardo the chance to collect himself. "What do you say, let's drag this one back to your room and you can start decorating it. I bought some lights and garland that you can use if you want, but you'll probably want to go out and buy your own ornaments..." As he rambles on, the ring announcer stares at him, smiling through his tears as he begins to truly feel at ease for the first time since August when Del Rio had coolly looked him in the eye and kicked him in the skull, destroying their friendship in one fell swoop.
Mike's head is still swimming with all that had happened on Monday- AJ's odd reaction during and after her match, his brief reconciliation with Kofi, and Del Rio's loss to Sin Cara- so it's nice to go commentate Main Event again, where things are relatively straight forward and simple, though he has to wonder about Eva Marie getting a place on the Diva of the Year Slammy ballot for this upcoming week's Raw when she'd only wrestled maybe three matches in the WWE. But he doesn't hang around for Smackdown- after receiving advanced notice yet again that they won't have time for him, which sounds more and more like a hilarious excuse, he leaves and flies back out to California, one thing from Thanksgiving bothering him more than anything else.
The look on Morrison's face when he'd made that comment on Friday about Mike abandoning him for Florida, little to no doubt in Mike's mind that his best friend had been at least a little sincere when he'd said it, there being a gleam in his brown eyes that proved to be a little hard to ignore, it haunting him through the last few days. And so as soon as he finds himself back in Los Angeles, he drives to his friend's apartment and knocks lazily, smirking as he lets himself in with the key John had given him two years ago. The apartment is quiet, as it usually is, and he can smell the incense that Morrison burns whenever he meditates or is in the middle of yoga. He walks back to his bedroom and peeks in, unsurprised to find him sitting cross-legged on top of his bed, lost in the thoughtless weight of meditation, careful not to make too much noise as he walks into the room and sits down too, subtly mimicking his former tag partner's breath as he falls into the rhythm, staring at John's face as he loses himself to it as well.
He's not sure how long they've been sitting like that when John finally unfolds himself, looking up and seeming unsurprised to find Mike sitting on his floor, the spell shattered over him as well as their eyes lock. "Mike?" he asks simply, hopping up from the bed as if he hadn't been sitting in the same position for so long, easily reaching down to pull his best friend to his feet as well, smiling warmly once they're eye to eye. "What's up? It's not that often you skip an event to come break into my apartment."
"It's not breaking and entering if I have a key," Mike snarks back, smirking when John taps him on the chest as he walks past to the kitchen, tossing a bottle of water to him before collecting one for himself from the deep recesses of his fridge.
"Isn't that what all of the stalkers say?" John volleys back, laughing as Miz glares at him, clearly unimpressed. "But seriously, what's going on? Is something wrong?"
"I don't always come here when something's wrong," Mike says defensively, swallowing when John looks over at him blankly, waiting for- "Ok, maybe I do," he grouses. "But not this time- at least not for myself." He shifts uncomfortably when Morrison frowns, failing to understand. "I was just thinking about what you said when you were leaving Alex's apartment- about how I'm abandoning California for Florida."
"It was a joke, Mike. That's all," John sighs, shaking his head as he brushes past him to enter his living room. He's stopped, however, by Mike's hand on his bicep. "Mike-"
"Except it wasn't," he says. "I know you, John, and I know when you're joking and when your jokes have an ounce of truth in it. That was a truthful joke if I'd ever heard one. And it makes sense, I have been all about everything else the last few months. Ricardo, and everything he was going through thanks to Del Rio and RVD and all... AJ, and finally getting together with her, and things being surprisingly ok between us for the most part... then Alex and his surgery, and the little he'd actually let me do to help him. Along with whatever the hell is going on with my own so-called career now..." He looks up into John's eyes and shakes his head, smiling mirthlessly. "I guess so much has been going on, you just... kind of slipped through the cracks, and I am so sorry for that. You're my best friend, and I know I'm horrible-"
"Hey, dammit- stop!" John finally exclaims, throwing his hands up in disbelief. "Jeez, Mike, just listening to you talk about what you've been going through the few months makes my head spin. And I know it's only scratching the surface too, because you're forgetting the sleepless nights trying to make autograph signings and radio interviews and the movies and a million other things you push yourself to do. I get it." His voice softens as he grimaces. "Yes, sometimes I miss my best friend, but I understand. You want to help everyone with everything they're going through, and really I'm the least in need friend you have at the moment, and I'm fine with that. Hell, I'm glad for it. I don't want to be any more stress weighing on your shoulders."
Mike listens to him, those very shoulders slumping as he releases a trembling breath, realizing that he's right. Despite John being out of the business two years now, he does have it more together than the rest of them, perhaps because of it, and he grits his teeth against the painful tears he feels pricking at his eyes. "I still feel bad though," he mutters, scuffing his shoe against the tile floor. John reaches out and grips his jaw, raising his face up until he can see the liquid beading in his former tag partner's eyes, shaking his head in some confusion before- "I don't know what's going on anymore," Mike whispers, unable to stop the tears as John continues to stare at him like that...
"Oh, dammit," John breathes, pulling him closer and hugging him as he shakes and mutters to himself, gripping John's shirt tightly enough to stretch it out against his lean body. "Alright, alright," he mutters. "Let it out. You're ok." He can't understand what Mike's saying against his shoulder, but he doesn't let himself dwell on it as he clings to him, letting Mike take as much time as he needs to cry himself out. Finally he does and John pulls him into the living room finally, sitting him down on the couch and facing him. "Tell me what's going on," he requests lowly and Mike nods, slowly beginning to talk.
He talks for what feels like hours, explaining what he's gathered about Del Rio and his plan, how it had backfired, how Ricardo can only appear at shows as himself when Alberto isn't there, or as El Local only now and again, struggling to learn more wrestling before he figures out what to do next... How he's afraid that AJ is losing herself back to the madness that had driven Dolph and so many others before him away now that this Total Divas TV show is weighing on her yet again, her title reign possibly in jeopardy thanks to Natalya, who keeps emerging victorious against her and Tamina. The slump his own career continues to be in, Mike unable to gain any traction back since that beatdown in his hometown by Orton and what the Authority had said about him at every opportunity for weeks. How it had led him to become increasingly bitter towards Alex, though he's trying to leave that behind him while they continue to trade off commentary on Main Event.
John has always been a great listener and, by the time Mike talks himself out, feeling like a wrung out sponge after everything, he does feel better without very many words spoken by his tag partner. Morrison claps him on the knee and sighs, looking sympathetically at his best friend. "Listen, we both know how this business goes. We all have our ups and downs. I know you, you're not a quitter. But you can't keep everything bottled up inside like this, it's not healthy. I understand if you feel like you can't talk to Ricardo, AJ or Alex about all of this, but I'm always here. Even if you feel like it's cruel to turn to me to lay this all out, considering WWE's been in my rearview mirror for this long, and it doesn't look like there's much interest in changing that, I'm always here for you, yeah? Just... call, or text, whatever you need."
Mike wipes at his face, humbled and so relieved to have John in his life; after everything they'd been through, put each other through, he's still one of the most loyal idiots Mike's ever met. "Thanks," he finally breathes, nodding. "I- I will, I promise."
"Now what do you say?" John asks, tapping him on top of the head. "Up for some Smackdown? Or do you want to do something else?"
"AJ's there," he mutters. "And Ricardo. I guess we should tune in." He sits back as John finds the remote and turns the TV on, checking to make sure it's on Syfy before slumping back next to Mike, the two of them watching quietly through the show. Mike watches closely as Del Rio comes out for a match against Kofi, smirking slightly when his current rival gets taken apart by the Mexican aristocrat, the man doing his standard post-loss beatdown, leaving Kofi writhing in the ring after another armbar. "Sometimes, I almost don't mind Del Rio," he mutters. "Sometimes..."
But his slightly better mood fades away as AJ and Tamina make it to the ring for the enforcer's match against Natalya, AJ at commentary fielding JBL and Cole's barbs and comments as she watches the taller woman try her hand against the other diva. Mike closes his eyes when, upon Tamina losing, AJ seems unconcerned with it all. "It sounds like she's in denial," John mutters after a moment, Miz nodding.
"This is what worries me," he says. "What is she going to do if, God forbid, she loses that title at TLC? She's already teetering right now, that could... that send her right back over the edge... and... when she was lost in getting payback and everything else... it was enough to push Ziggler away, and . What if I can't take it either? I love her so much, but..."
John shakes his head, resting a hand between his shoulderblades and massaging the tense muscles there. "You can't worry about it right now. You don't know how she's going to react, things have time to turn around. Just take it easy. I know you, you won't give up on her that easily, especially after everything it took you two to get here. Just relax, and don't see drama where there isn't any yet. You have enough going on right now."
"Alright," he sighs, slumping back against the couch and smiling wanly over at his best friend. "I'll try."
Ricardo slows down as soon as he arrives at his hotel room after leaving Smackdown, eyes welling with tears yet again as he rushes inside, trying to catch his breath. Del Rio had talked to him while he was in his El Local gear, had... had- He slumps down to the floor and stares at his hands, shaking his head. For a moment, Alberto had sounded like his old self, mocking Rey Mysterio for being a chihuahua, and... and- "El Patron," he breathes out, fresh tears filling his eyes and obscuring his vision even more. Sometimes, when the anger and pain from the betrayal back in August are at their lowest, he misses the older man, and tonight happens to be one of these times... He shakes and sniffs, finally looking up. He knows they're in the same hotel, Ricardo automatically booking the same hotels he'd always booked when he and Alberto were traveling together, adding to his inner turmoil. Despite being in one of the cheaper rooms instead of the higher class ones Del Rio always insisted on, it still has the same layout as every room they tended to stay at, and it breaks his heart to sit here, alone and torn apart missing his former employer.
Alex had had a follow up appointment in Florida regarding his shoulder surgery, and since Mike had left for California upon learning he had no role in the card tonight, it leaves Ricardo with no one around that he really knows, except for AJ and Tamina, and... yeah, that wasn't going to go anywhere. But that also means there's no one to stop him as he slowly makes it to his feet and stumbles to the elevator, heading up to the floor that Alberto had always insisted he get, spreading some money around to get his way. From there, it's not hard to figure out which room is his, it being the only one with the sounds of a telenovela audible through the door, and Ricardo rests his hand on the wood paneling, dizzy and a little ill at being this close to the other man.
He can only imagine what could happen should he find the courage to know- Alberto would either take one look at him and kick him in the skull again, truly breaking his arm right here in the middle of the hall with no one to help him, or would, perhaps, in a perfect world, light up into a smile and draw him in, apologize for everything and promise to be a better man, a better friend... He doesn't know what to expect, staring at the door with a broken look on his face as he tries to make a decision, here, now, about what to do. "Ay, help me," he pleads to thin air, lifting a hand and resting it against the wood as he thinks hard. He finally swallows and taps against the wood, merely testing it, when-
Something shatters inside, causing him to jump, his hand thudding against the wood. But it isn't heard as something else crashes inside, Alberto apparently decimating the entire room. Ricardo shudders, shocked out of his tearful ponderings as he listens to the destruction going on beyond the thin wooden barrier only just keeping him safe from his former employer's rage, something he had felt all too often while they were supposedly friends. It brings back terrible memories and he slowly staggers backwards, wondering what he was thinking, coming here... after one, cheap moment when Alberto hadn't even known who exactly he was talking to... Shuddering terribly, he returns to his hotel room and dives onto the bed, still feeling vulnerable as if Del Rio will figure out that he was here this whole time, come inside and feed his anger further by demolishing Ricardo's room as well before turning his attention to the younger man and finish what he had started in August.
He shakes his head, clutching the sheets close to him as if they could provide any kind of protection should Alberto find him. "No, no, no," he mutters. "Por favor, no..." He finally moves after what feels like a lifetime, digging his phone out of his pocket and dialing Mike. It rings and rings and rings until finally the Awesome One answers, Ricardo choking at the friendly voice greeting him from the other end. "Mike," he breathes out as he eases the death grip he has on the bedding, immediately comforted. He listens as his friend questions him worriedly, smiling faintly. "I'm ok," he finally gets a word in edgewise, almost laughing when Mike immediately quiets. "It's just... I almost did something really stupid..." And to his relief, Mike actually listens, only interjecting now and again when he tells him what had happened back at the arena, and here at the hotel. "If I had knocked..."
"I'm glad you didn't," Mike says, though Ricardo can't help but think he sounds a little strange- his voice tense and strained with some indecipherable emotion. "Just stay there safe, man. I'm not sure what crawled up Del Rio's ass but you don't need to be caught up in the middle of it. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you-"
"No, it's fine," he responds quickly, shaking his head. "I understand, don't worry about it. Wish John good luck in his match tomorrow night." He can hear Mike smile as the other man agrees, Ricardo smiling too as he thinks about friendships that can outlast anything, his heart aching anew. That was why Mike had flown to California to surprise John, he had mentioned to Ricardo when pieces of his plan had fallen into place upon his getting the night off from Smackdown. He was going to travel with him to New York to witness John's match at some indy fed against a wrestler Ricardo had only heard bits and pieces about, support him as best as he could. Though, considering how Morrison had done in the ring the week prior during their Thanksgiving Eve matches, Ricardo isn't sure the man will need much of that, though it's always nice to have a friend on your side. He sighs sadly.
Miz immediately stops talking about whatever he was rambling about while Ricardo was lost in thought. "Are you ok?"
"Yeah, Mike, I'm fine," he whispers, closing his eyes against the ever-present pang. "Lo siento, what were you saying?" He forces himself to focus on what Miz is saying about California's unwelcome chilly weather, unwilling to let himself get lost in his thoughts again, not sure what he'd do if he did...
After a relatively painless trip to Seattle, Washington, for Raw, Mike learns as soon as he lands that Ricardo, who had been trying to travel out just in case he should somehow get booked as El Local, is still stranded across the country in Washington DC. He cringes, feeling bad for the younger man, who's been struggling to get to the state since mid-Sunday, hindered at every step by snow delaying or canceling most of the flights in or out of DC. He vows to call him after the show, quickly losing himself in the busy atmosphere that is the Slammys.
He has a match early on in the evening, another against Kofi and he sighs, tiring of the two of them trading challenges or the GMs furthering the animosity between them by continuing to put them in matches, but he'll go through with the match for now, especially since he has the advantage in amount of wins against him and he doesn't want to start to backslide. He's gotten a good bead on Kofi's offense and speed, thankfully, so he dodges his Trouble in Paradise and escapes the ring, waving the match off with a mocking laugh, not wanting to risk getting another scar thanks to the ridiculous kick. Except that he's taking in the derision in the crowd's response with a smugness that he hasn't felt in awhile, moving too slow- Kofi catches him and throws him back into the ring, trying to roll him up into a pin... which Mike reverses into a pin of his own, holding the other man down by getting leverage by gripping his tights and keeping him down long enough for the three count.
Unfortunately his ego works against him for the second time when he's standing on the top rope, yet again distracted by the audience's hatred for him, only still multiplying after all of this time. He doesn't mind, relishing in it, until- something harsh impacts with his skull and everything goes dark, faded. As he struggles back to awareness, he recognizes this feeling- the afteraffects of the Trouble in Paradise. He glowers at the man as he leaves, gritting his teeth against the pain and a need for vengeance. But he can't lay here and lick his wounds, soon enough he has to get up and- hopefully- award the Slammy for Insult of the Year to a well deserving AJ, hoping that she can win a Slammy this year that'll erase the tainted Slammy she'd won the year before for best kiss with John Cena. He hasn't gone to her apartment in New Jersey yet, but knows that it's somewhere, hidden, on the back of a dusty shelf that she doesn't pay much attention to.
They're sitting together in the trainer's room, the man talking with Mike to ensure he doesn't have a concussion after Kofi's actions, when it's announced that the Diva of the Year slammy winner will be announced after the commercial break, Mike squeezing her hand between questions. Thankfully the trainer stops talking, deducing that Mike's going to be ok, just a little sore, all eyes locked on the monitor as they wait for Eve to announce the winner. It's like watching a balloon deflate, he thinks, as the Bellas' names are announced, AJ staring blankly at the TV while her expectant smile fades away. She had given so much this year- fought so hard to win the title and then be a good champion, the Divas' title meaning everything to her... despite all that she had to fight against, such as the reality show and all of the buzz that it received... he aches for her, pulling her closer.
She rests her head on his shoulder, hair raining down and hiding her disappointment as he kisses her temple, wishing he could do something to make her feel better. But alas, he has to go get ready to announce the Insult of the Year slammy and he watches, barely even caring, as Del Rio once again competes against Sin Cara and once again loses to the man. He smirks slightly, adjusting his tux, but even that isn't as funny as it was the week prior as he notices the panel for TLC hyped while the announcers discuss the preshow. He's on it and although he'd known already, being notified just before Raw, it rankles at him. He hadn't been in much of a better spot last year, thrown into some MizTV segment with 3MB as his guests... but it had led into the first of two six man matches with Del Rio which would ultimately be what led to him and Ricardo being friends.
He can't believe it's been a year already, so much has happened in such a short amount of time.
This still fresh on his mind, he goes out to announce the winner of the Insult slammy, brushing off what Kofi had done to him, though he's still feeling a bit of a headache, the bright lights and audience members letting their voices be heard not helping much with that. When it's time and he opens the envelope to find that it announces Stephanie the winner, he swallows and closes his eyes, hating every second that he has to spend waiting to hand it over to the woman who, only months earlier, had looked him in the eye and told him he was nothing more than a utility player.
His disgust is nothing compared to AJ's, however, the two of them standing side by side until she has to go out for Tamina's match against Natalya, her evening only growing worse when the enforcer accidentally knocks her off of the apron and gets beat by Natalya while distracted, the Divas' champion sitting on the floor blankly for long moments afterwards, clearly unsure why everything's going wrong for her tonight.
Mike only gets to kiss her softly as they walk by each other, as he's been told to return to the ring for the Ascension ceremony for the World and WWE titles. Nineteen of the former World and WWE champions are hanging around the gorilla position and he sneers at them, for the first time perhaps truly embracing the gravity of this moment. His time as WWE champion had been some of the best times of his career, no matter how stressed he was every moment that he considered losing it, and now to think of it gone, branded as something else, leaves him feeling weird and a little overwhelmed. He has no doubt that most of the other men around him feel the same, especially those who are still active competitors and still hope someday to have another chance at it.
He's about to step out to walk towards the ring when someone stumbles into him, almost sending him falling into the curtain. He sputters and pushes them away, just to realize- it's Del Rio. He glowers at him and shakes his head, in disbelief that now of all times, he's starting something or... His eyes narrow as he realizes that the man's simply off-balanced, his eyes glazed over as he looks up at Mike. "What the hell is your problem?!"
Dark eyes trying to focus, he winces and presses a hand to his forehead. "Conmocion," he mutters, still struggling to balance himself. Mike's eyes widen slightly as he reaches out to steady him. "Off of me, perro!" Alberto snaps, digging his fingers into his forehead. "Ay..."
"Shut up, you idiot," Mike hisses even as he gives Del Rio his space. When Ricardo had been injured thanks to Alberto in August and Mike, Alex and John had taken responsibility for his care, they had checked out a few medical terms in Spanish just in case and one had stuck in his head- the word for concussion, so he knows exactly what Del Rio had just said. Thankfully, the Mexican aristocrat gets to the ring safely and Mike watches him throughout, only half listening as Cena and Orton exchange their little insults and everything else, watching Alberto stare at the World title with a barely there gaze, Miz wondering if it's really a good idea for him to be out here right now, though he has no doubt that, even if he was near death, Del Rio wouldn't give up the last chance he'd have at seeing the belt he had spent his whole career fighting to own.
Allowing himself a moment as well to look at the WWE title as it's hoisted up on the clasp that will hold both titles over the ring this Sunday, Mike swallows thickly and shakes his head, already missing it as if it's some physical being... That title had been important to him, still is. Had proven to him that, even if for only a few months, he could be champion- he could break out of what limitations everyone had placed on him. He'll miss it, even if the title that Rock had debuted after defeating CM Punk earlier in the year is technically not the same title he had held.
None of them are surprised when Cena and Orton's insults turn into a physical confrontation, all of them working to hold the two men back. Even Del Rio, reluctant and barely with it, tries to keep the WWE champion back while Miz and his group of superstars hold onto Cena, but it quickly falls apart as the Authority gets involved and Stephanie is knocked over, the former champions quickly escaping the ring. Mike doesn't pay much attention to what's going on in the ring, his eyes once more locked on the unsteady Del Rio, walking quickly to catch up to him, which really doesn't take a lot considering. "You're coming with me," he tells him abruptly, lips pressed tightly together.
"Que?" the Mexican aristocrat almost laughs in his face before continuing to walk away, but Mike grabs him and digs his fingers into his arm. When Alberto takes a swing at him, he misses and spins needlessly in a circle, which would ordinarily be funny, but Miz doesn't laugh, instead forcing him to remain standing as he sways afterwards.
"As I said, you're coming with me," Miz repeats grimly. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."
Del Rio stares at him strangely. "Why... would you bother? We hate each other."
"This is true," Mike shrugs as he leads him back to the locker room to grab his bag. "But a few weeks ago, a certain ring announcer watched over you when you were sick and if he could after everything you've done to him, then I can as well."
Alberto looks troubled as he grips his bag and tries to lift it just for Mike to swipe it from him, shouldering it with a sneer. "Ricardo always was too kind-hearted for his own good."
"Perhaps," Miz shrugs. "But it's not always a bad thing, even in this business. Now move." He's not sure how he's going to explain this to AJ- or Tamina, who will once more be delegated to the couch- but there's no turning back now. Tomorrow the trainer will evaluate Del Rio for a concussion, then send him home to rest for a few days and Mike will go on to visit the troops with a few other wrestlers before traveling on to Portland for Main Event and Smackdown, where hopefully Ricardo will get a flight out, and everything will be alright again. Or at least as alright as it ever is... Until TLC anyway...