Mike is calm. Mike is settled. Everything's great. Not a thing is wrong. Except that AJ is away for the day, handling some business involving these mental health charities she's been looking into, and Sara will not stop crying. He's not sure if she misses AJ or if she's just teething exceptionally badly today but as she gums at his fingers, at his shirt, at anything she can get her fingers on, he's pretty sure he knows.
When the doorbell rings, he exhales shakily and stands, leaving Sara to cry pitifully on the blanket he'd settled her on when she hadn't lost steam within ten minutes. His hope is she'll cry herself out, eventually, maybe make the reverberations in his ears stop for a few minutes. He's too tired to be mortified when he opens the door to find John and Taya standing there, John looking uncertain and Taya looking sympathetic. "Rough day?" she asks, leaning up to hug Mike before breezing in to check on the baby.
"She's teething," he says, leaning into John's hand as he claps him on the back, his touch relaxing Mike a bit. "I've tried numbing creams and ice, I've given her stuff to gnaw on but I think she's working a couple of them at once and she's utterly miserable... so she's of course making me miserable... because there's nothing I can do. And AJ is off on some charity business." He sighs tiredly, slumping on the couch and watching his best friends coo over the red eyed little girl.
"Hey, Mike," John says after a moment of Sara sobbing and sniffing against Taya's shoulder. "Did AJ ever tell you about when she was in labor?"
Mike squints for a few moments, then sits up straight. "Yeah, she did. Uh, do you think it'd work here?"
"Maybe," John says. "Gimme her for a second, Taya." Taya looks confused as she passes the baby over, smoothing her shirt along her heaving back as John rocks her back and forth, humming to her. His touch is slow, gentle, down her arm, along her back, up her neck, and the more he touches her, the calmer she gets, her tears slowly easing into weak, pathetic hiccups.
Within five minutes, she's asleep and Mike closes his eyes. "John Morrison, you're a friggin miracle worker," he exhales, exhaustion weighing him down. "Holy shit, I thought I'd never get a minute's silence again."
Taya is staring at John with amazement, finally shaking herself free from this fugue. "Mike, you should get some sleep while you can. We'll take good care of Sara. You look exhausted. Go on." She shoos him out of the living room and, as he goes, he thinks she looks like a woman who's fallen even more in love with her significant other, if even possible.
He smiles while he curls himself up in sheets, hugging AJ's pillow and breathing in her perfume until he's drifting, half-asleep. He's happy for his friend, that John's finally found this kind of stable love and devotion from someone.
-x
Tension of another kind overwhelms Mike as he walks into the arena that Sunday. He hadn't heard from Heath since the week prior, and Maryse had been uncharacteristically mum about her significant other, so it's almost a surprise when he sees the man standing near the door, looking up and then standing straight as soon as he realizes it's Mike who's just walked in. "Hey," he says, sloping over to Mike, all gangly limbs and southern sheepishness.
"Hello." Mike adjusts his bag, raises an eyebrow at the man.
"Look, we're friends and I know things've been weird for awhile, partially 'cause of me, partially 'cause of you but I ain't got a lot of friends left in this company, and I'd rather keep the ones I got so... can we put it behind us, ya think? I'm not done wantin' that title belt, but it shouldn't change things between us, ya know?"
Mike stands quietly for a few moments, watching Heath fidget and lose his nerve. Just when Heath's about to open his mouth, probably take it all back and leave, Mike grins his most blinding grin and claps Heath hard on the back. "Sure, man, we're good. I definitely understand aspiring to be as good as me. Can't hold it against you for too long, huh?" He laughs at the flabberghasted look on Heath's face and exhales, dropping the act. "Come on, I think Maryse is waiting for you back at the locker room." They walk side by side down the hall and eventually Heath exhales a laugh.
"You are ridiculous, Mike. Anyone ever told ya that?"
"Yep, every day I've been breathing. It's part of my charm, I think."
With most of the tension cleared up, their night goes well. Mike defeats Ambrose again, and then, towards the end of the show, Heath and Maryse are lounging around near catering, Heath teasing her with these cheesecake bites, when a frazzled looking production guy runs in. "We need you!" He blindly grabs, getting ahold of Heath and Hawkins, and throwing them out towards the gorilla. "Cue Slater and Hawkins, we need something to fill time while this Strowman situation is figured out!"
"Wha- what-?!" Heath demands, having no time to properly verbalize what he's thinking as he's pushed through the curtain for an impromptu match against Hawkins. Which he wins after dodging Hawkins' attempts at offense, swinging forcefully and hitting Curt repeatedly before planting him with a DDT, pinning him. He laughs and looks around at the crowd, relieved to find that at least some had been watching them wrestle even with the titantron taken over by backstage, showing Strowman getting freed from the ambulance and all.
Maryse hugs him tightly as he makes his way backstage, kissing him. "Congratulations, Heath," she says softly, tasting like cheesecake and chocolate and making the victory just that much sweeter for him. "I love you."
"I love you too," he says, dipping her a bit and licking at the chocolate on the corner of her mouth. "Let's get outta here."
"Yes." She giggles, taking his hand and running with him back to the locker room so he can change.
Raw isn't as easy going. Mike decides, for want of something to do now that he's officially done with Ambrose, that he will host the Mizzies. Has little awards made for Bo and Axel, Maryse, and of course himself. Designs cards with their names typed in delicate cursive inside, and then stands with the three of them on either side. Hands out the awards, listens to their attempts at acceptance speeches, and then... Ambrose comes out. Then Rollins comes out. Before long, they're all taken out by two thirds of the Shield, and it's only with some satisfaction that Mike watches as Dean orders Seth to mind his own business and stay out of Dean's. "Boys, you good to go? We have something to do later," he says with a smirk.
Seth has a match against Bray. Which he loses. Which leaves him vulnerable to attack. So they do just that. Surrounds the ring like the Shield used to do, before slipping in to lay him out. It's successful, Mike feels like laughing right in Seth's face- when Dean's music hits. He freezes and looks on incredulously as his plans go up in smoke- despite Dean's claims, he's here, and he's involving himself in Seth's business and- before Mike can fully think things out, he's getting pummeled across the back with a chair until finally Axel grabs him, pulls him to safety and he can only lay there and moan, back a writhing mess of agony from all of the repeated chair shots.
They help him backstage and the trainer examines him carefully, Mike breathing hard through each touch, prod and poke. "I hate him," he mumbles. Repeats it again and again and again. He's not sure what shape his back will be in by then, but he vows to himself. Come next Monday, Dean, Seth, and anyone else who gets in his way will pay for this.