A/N: Happy New Year, everyone!
It's all over the internet late Wednesday night. Mike stares at his phone, his jaw twitching as he fights the urge to throw it. If not for his sleeping wife next to him, and a household full of other sleeping people, he would do something destructive, but dammit... He swallows, closes his eyes, and tries his hardest not to hyperventilate as he turns his head and examines her in the darkness, AJ's breathing steady, her face peaceful and calm. If not for the words on the screen before him, he'd think she was the sign of health. Even her eye is healed, showing no sign of what Nikki Bella had done to her the week prior. He doesn't sleep the rest of the night, keeping a close eye on her, and when the sun begins to lighten up the sky, he's relieved and disgusted all at once. His eyes are gritty, painful, and he has a full day of gift exchange and many other things with their group of friends to get through. There will be no time for a confrontation...
She stirs at that moment and he closes his eyes, doing what he does best. Act. Perform. Pretend. As she nuzzles into him and kisses him gently on the mouth, he responds in kind and pulls her into him, his hands rough and possessive on her lithe body. She doesn't protest or even make a pained noise, so he continues to knead her flesh, wondering. Is this what you're hiding? Are you injured here? It's not until their eyes lock, her gaze worried and a bit nervous, that it clicks with him. If she is injured, his current actions won't make the situation any better, in fact might make her mysterious injury worse, so he eases his touch and rubs his nose against hers, trying to comfort her. "Good morning, sweetheart," he murmurs, struggling to sound normal, gentle. "Merry Christmas."
Her smile is slow but sincere as she digs her heels into his legs, beaming down at him. "Merry Christmas, husband."
They enjoy the quiet of the house until it's impossible to ignore as more and more people wake up, disrupting their focus on the other, and they get up reluctantly, quickly swept up in the general excitement of gifts and food, soft chatter and laughter carrying them all through the day. Mike forgets, for the most part, but he knows what the next day will have to bring, before they all return to reality. But AJ looks young and happy, so he allows her today, enjoying the glee in her eyes as the piles of gifts for each person grows, the amount of boxes under the tree lessening.
She's exhausted when they collapse into bed that night and he once more keeps his thoughts to himself, hugging her close while he skims through his phone, looking for any further news. There is nothing, though, so he turns the phone off and reaches over, the lack of sleep from the night before catching up with him as he closes his eyes, stroking her arm. He's not sure when he dozes off, but the next thing he remembers is AJ's knees pressed against his hips, her eyes gleaming as she wakes him up with kisses that grow in intensity as he buries his fingers into her sleep-mussed hair, sighing into her mouth. "Time to go to the airport," she tells him softly, stroking his chest.
He sighs and shakes his head, not wanting to face the fact that she'd been lying to him for weeks or more, but knowing that he has to. "Alright," he whispers, her eyes darkening as she observes the sudden change in his mood. They pack in silence before going out to say their goodbyes, Mike hugging Ricardo. "Take care of yourself, man. Feel better soon."
"Gracias." The ring announcer smiles, stepping back to Alberto's side to watch as Mike exchanges his goodbyes with Alex and the others scattered around the room, before resting a hand on AJ's back and leading her to the door, Mizdow following quietly. Mike drives, trying to clear his head, but there's just no chance of it. They'll be at the airport soon, going their separate ways as he flies out to where Smackdown is going to be held, and she returns home to California, and he can't stand it. Hitting the brakes suddenly, he pulls the car over to the shoulder of the road and gets out before anyone can speak, slamming the door behind him. He crosses over to the passenger's side, tapping on AJ's window and motioning to her to get out.
She looks even more nervous than she had the day before but she obliges, eyes furrowing as he walks away without a glance back at her, storming towards a cluster of trees that will provide them some privacy from Morrison and Mizdow's curious gazes. "Mike, what's going on?" she's just asked, coming up behind him, when he pulls her closer and begins searching her body, similar to how he'd been handling her the day before, but much gentler. "Mike..."
"Where is it?" he demands, his hands ghosting over her thighs, down her knees, to her calves. "Where are you injured?!" She's speechless and he stands back up at full height, waving his phone at her and she stares at the screen, reading the damning words there. Her face falls at the same time as her shoulders and that's all of the confirmation he needs, resuming his search of her body, up her waist to her arms, across her shoulders, down her back. "Talk to me," he orders through gritted teeth, staring up at her as he rests his head against her stomach, overwhelmed by his fear for her, that it's something serious.
She tugs at him, pulling him up until they're eye to eye, stroking his face tenderly before she leans into him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. As he stares into her eyes, she whispers the truth about her minor, nagging injuries against his mouth, wincing as his fingers dig into her back, not enough to hurt physically, but succeeding it emotionally as he trembles against her, betrayal and worry warring in his expressive gaze. "I'm so sorry," she breathes.
"How long were you working hurt?" The more he stares at her, the more he knows he's not going to like the answer. "How long?!"
"A little over a month," she admits. When he reacts by angrily slamming his fists into the trunk of the tree behind them, she cringes, but not for her well-being. For his, her lips parting as she grips his wrists and searches them anxiously, unsurprised to find small knicks and cuts all over his tanned flesh. "Oh, baby," she whispers, heart breaking for him.
"How could you keep this from me? We're married, dammit! I deserved to know," he yells at her, his temper fading as quickly as it'd come, leaving him a broken shell before her. "If this was me, and I had kept any kind of injury from you, you would've never forgiven me..."
He's right. It makes her feel even worse. She cups his face and stares into his eyes, guilt and sadness bleeding from every pore of her. "I know, I'm so sorry, Mike, please-" He doesn't say anything else, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tight, pressed against the same tree that he had attacked earlier, breathing harshly into her hair. "Forgive me," she beseeches him. "Please..."
He doesn't say anything for a moment, buried in her so deep that she's not sure he'll ever surface, but finally he pulls away, staring into her eyes. "Never keep something like this from me again," he pleads in return.
"I promise." He strokes her face, leaning in to kiss her. "Do you forgive me?"
"Yes," he sighs, his fingers tracing her lips. "Just please... keep your promise. I can't stand the thought of you being hurt, and my not even having a clue." Her eyes fill with tears as she nods, the two of them slowly making their way back to the car a few minutes later. Morrison and Mizdow, thankfully, keep their questions to themselves as they drive the rest of the way to the airport, Mike's hand loosely curled around AJ's as he drives with the other. Separating is heartbreaking when so much is left up in the air between them, but he's glad for the time to himself to think, aware that Morrison will make sure she's ok until he's done with Smackdown, the holiday tour, and Raw, returning to California for New Years.
He still has a promise to try to keep, himself, so he watches backstage as Naomi wrestles Alicia. He feels a little weird, cheering against AJ's bridesmaid, but he has his own agenda, so when Naomi wins, he finds himself dancing to her music as well, the first lighthearted moment he'd had since learning the truth about AJ's injury and how she's been rehabbing since her eye injury cleared up enough to allow it. He'd been so busy with Tribute to the Troops and being tag champion that he hadn't even considered there was more to her not being eager to return to WWE so, as much as it hurts that she hadn't told him the truth, he's also angry at himself for not paying enough attention to her.
His thoughts running a million miles an hour, he can't keep his focus on Jimmy Uso during their match later, his pleading to him falling on deaf ears as he attacks, dazing Mike enough to successfully pin him. He curses violently once he's aware, and sitting up once more, the loss grinding at the last of his patience as he storms backstage, Mizdow mimicking him as he kicks at everything in his path. Finally he turns and screams at him. "STOP IT!" Sandow immediately freezes, gaping after Mike as he slams his way into their locker room, the door bouncing against the frame as he shuts it hard.
He trashes the room. He's trying to pack up, but his eyes are blurry and his hands are shaking, and nothing's going right. Nikki's still divas champion, AJ is hurt, and he hadn't even known and now, now the Usos are slowly gaining traction in regaining their titles, and everyone loves Mizdow, but no one cares about him, and... He sinks to the ground and buries his fingers in his hair, tearing at it angrily until the door squeaks open, protesting its earlier treatment. He doesn't even need to look to know that it's Sandow kneeling down by him, the guy that Miz had hired months ago to pick up some slack, help his knee to recover, until he was cleared to compete... but who had decided to hang around, accepting all of Mike's anger and derision, even doing what Mike couldn't and helping them to become tag champions.
He wants to say something, anything, but when he looks up, he can't make his mouth work, he can't do anything but stare at Damien, tears slowly dripping down his ruddy face. The next thing he knows, Damien's arms are tight around him, letting him cry harshly into his shoulder. And if they never mention this moment again, that's fine. It's enough for Mike to regain his composure, find it in him to return to being AJ's strength, her rock, while she recovers. Resume being the tag champion that's overlooked for the man who is currently showing him such compassion. Continue to try to maneuver Naomi into divas title contention, to get AJ's beloved title off of Nikki at any cost possible.
He's somehow able to relax a little, focus during his meet'n'greet with Mizdow that Sunday, signing autographs and taking pictures, but AJ's lie remains in the back of his mind, niggling like a failure of his own and he wonders how he'll be able to do anything worthwhile on Raw the next night, his hands tightening on the title belts spread across his shoulders. Everything good in his life is rotting away from him and he's not sure what to do to stop it.
When he walks into the Raw arena the following night, he's not that surprised to find that the Usos had been granted another tag title opportunity. He grits his teeth, ignores everyone who calls out to him as he enters the locker room and stares at it quietly, Mizdow by his side. Only a few days earlier, he had trashed their locker room, leaving it a mess, and now they're in danger of losing it entirely. Guess that's karma for you, he thinks, dropping his bag despondently on the floor. Yes, he has little doubt that the Usos could beat him on a good day, but this is far from that.
He paces around the room, hand on his jaw as he stares at the floor. Mizdow has the sense to not do the stunt double thing and impede Mike's path. Finally, when the Raw theme starts to vibrate through the arena, Mike stops pacing and puts on that infamous mask of smugness, turning towards Mizdow. "Come on, Damien," he says determinedly. "Let's go get the lay of the land." They wander for awhile, poking their heads into catering before continuing down the hall, where they're caught on camera, Mike rambling about bringing his tag titles to the New Years parties they've been invited to- which, let's be honest, is all of them that matter- when Naomi comes out of nowhere and tackles Miz in a hug.
She insists on talking alone so he shoos Mizdow off, staring at her in amazement as she thanks him profusely over getting her a meeting with his agent to discuss future opportunities. He's shocked that that had even worked out because he'd turned his focus more towards getting her the divas title, unaware that the agent had decided to give her a chance. But he's still happy for her, and says as much, pleased all the more when she wishes him good luck against the Usos later tonight. He watches her run off, his lips twitching into a disbelieving smile, pondering if perhaps that is the start of his fortune finally turning around.
But that would just be too simple, wouldn't it? He hates opening his eyes to realize that they'd lost the tag titles, but Mizdow is there, dragging him up the ramp while the Usos and Naomi- wait, what?- are celebrating behind him and they're saying that it'd all been a trick, that they had played him. He swallows hard, spots before his eyes as he realizes that, yes, his attempts at getting Naomi a divas title shot to get the belt away from Nikki Bella and make AJ maybe just a little less sad had backfired horribly on him. The diva had been working with her husband this entire time, eager to stick it to him for actually just trying to help her. Yeah, sure, his interest wasn't entirely sincere or for her benefit, but still. It would've made her career so much easier just to allow him to see things through, ensure she'd become both divas champion and maybe grow beyond being merely a WWE diva, and former castmember of Total Divas.
Which says it all, he thinks bitterly- even that ridiculous nonsense of a show hadn't wanted her anymore! He grits his teeth, grip tight on Mizdow's shoulder as he helps him backstage and to their locker room, which they're supposed to be packing their stuff and moving out of. He ignores this and stews on the past few hours for a long time, ignoring his phone as it rings, and rings, and rings again. He can tell it's AJ, the ringtone set for her on his phone is her entrance theme, but he's not interested in talking to her. He's angry and he doesn't want to hurt her more, so he stares blankly ahead until the show is almost over. Finally he decides on a course of action and slaps Mizdow. "Follow me," he orders roughly, storming out of the locker room and heading for Edge and Christian's office.
But his demand for a rematch falls on deaf ears, as all the guest hosts seem to care about is mocking him, his entrance, Mizdow, whatever... in fact, Edge instead puts him in a match against an unknown opponent next, and Mike has no choice but to storm out and see who, though he thinks he knows, just based on how things have been going. Sure enough, it's the Ascension, the new tag team that's just made it to the main roster off of NXT... a mysterious group that Mike wishes he had had time to learn more about, maybe even talk to Ricardo... although, considering what had happened to him in his match against them, he thinks it'd probably be cruel to make him relive it.
Deciding that he'd already done enough, having competed in most of the match against the Usos, he waves them off and tags Mizdow in, watching from the apron, pacing, as they dominate him. He's only moved enough to lean in for a tag, should Mizdow be able to get over to him, when one of the members of the Ascension dashes over and strikes him with a forearm, knocking him straight to the floor where he remains, watching with a pissed off look on his face as they pin Mizdow, then hovers over him for a minute or two afterwards. He's so lost in anger and disgust that he doesn't even have the willpower to wait, help his tag partner up and to the back. He knows he should, but everything is still just so raw that he thinks if he needs to touch anyone, he'd end up screaming and punching everything in sight, so he leaves him to the ref, to the trainer, to whoever may feel like taking care of the situation.
He quietly begins packing stuff up, mindlessly throwing this and that into the bags laying open by the wall, suddenly eager just to leave all of this behind, get home. Try to make things right with AJ. He may not be champion anymore, but he still has his wife, and he's determined not to lose her too. Mizdow joins him a little later, not bothering to say a word, the two of them working side by side to clear out of the room. It's with an aggrieved breath that Mike looks back one last time at the tag team champions locker room, swallowing harshly as he closes the door on yet another title reign.
Driving to the hotel, trying and failing to get some sleep, and their flight back to Calfornia all transpires quietly. For the first time in a long time, Miz has nothing to say. And Mizdow has some sense, so he doesn't push him to talk, seeming as content to remain silent as Mike is. They're halfway to California when Mike's phone lights up with a picture that AJ had tweeted, showing a clear view of the beach from outside of John's apartment, a hint to him on where to go when he arrives. He's not surprised to find the place already busy when he arrives, Tamina and Star in the living room, an old episode of Lucha Underground playing on the TV across from them. John ducks his head out from the kitchen where delicious smells are wafting and waves with a vaguely worried grimace. "AJ's outside," he says needlessly, watching as Mike nods tensely and brushes past Mizdow to get to her.
He kicks some sand as he goes, careless and hurting. When their eyes lock, though, he realizes he's not angry. Just sad and worried, so he rests his hands lightly on her shoulders. "Can we talk, AJ?"
"Of course," she tells him, allowing him to lead her to a more secluded part of the beach. They sit side by side and she soon nuzzles close to him, sitting in his lap as he loosely holds her. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean to lie to you, or keep things from you. I thought... I thought I could wrestle through it, that it was minor enough to heal eventually. But Nikki kept winning, and I kept hurting more and more, and then when she targetted my eyes and I couldn't see well for awhile... I just decided to use that to excuse taking time off. Get stronger, rehab, do whatever I needed to do, then come back and bring my baby back where it belongs..." He still looks angry though, and her voice falters. "Not telling you wasn't part of the plan, but when I saw how busy you were with the tag titles and the lead-in to Tribute to the Troops, and all of your other little projects and things, I decided you didn't need this stress, that it could wait until after the holidays at least. But then it leaked to the internet, I'm still not sure how, and..." She wraps her arms around his neck and buries her face in his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Mike. I'll never keep something like this from you again."
"You'd better not," he says in a grim voice, tilting her face up so he can look her in the eye. "I want to be there for you, through thick and thin, AJ, but I can't do that when you don't tell me these things..."
"I know," she chokes out. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please forgive me."
He can never refuse her for long when she's clearly so sad and guilty for what she's done, so he finds himself nodding almost immediately. "I do, sweetheart. I do..." Drawing her closer, he kisses her softly before settling her down on the sand, brushing something against her bare midriff, causing her to giggle through her tears. As she peers down to see what he's doing, he smirks up at her.
"Is that one of Paige's mistletoe?" she's just managed to ask before he trails kisses down each inch of skin that the plant had touched, her words failing her instantaneously.
"Yeah, sweetheart." He shifts until they're eye to eye again and nuzzles against her, seizing her lips again in a gentle but intense kiss that's just so him, she almost starts to cry again. He pulls away and brushes her tears away, kissing her eyes once they're dry. "Besides, we can't bring in 2015 while mad at each other, now can we?" She shakes her head between his hands and he smiles down at her. "Our friends would never forgive us if we ruined the party tomorrow."
She chuckles softly and leans up, kissing him. "I love you, Mike," she murmurs.
"I love you too, sweetheart." They settle back into the sand, staring out at the ocean, her fingers curling around his as he absorbs the warmth of both the Californian sun and her after so long of being without either.