Royal Rumble isn't even worth talking about. Mike loses, that's all that matters. But he doesn't have time to even dwell on that before they're informing him that Roman Reigns has invoked his rematch clause for the IC title on Raw the following night. He hates it, but refuses to let it hold him down. He's beat Roman before, he'll do it again, no big deal.
He's so lost in thought about all of this that he almost doesn't hear Goldust talking to himself, but he just does, catching something about Alicia. He stops short and frowns before approaching him. "Excuse me," he says, forcing civility. "What'd you just say about Alicia Fox?"
Goldust makes one of his overexaggerated shudders before looking down at Mike. Somewhere in the middle of his tangents about movies and the Mixed Match Challenge, Mike understands. She'd broken her tailbone. It sounds like a gruesome injury, especially this close to the first ever female Royal Rumble. He mumbles something that he thinks may have been an excuse before turning sharply and heading for the trainer's office. Alicia isn't there, but the assistant there informs him she's been back at her hotel for hours.
He nods slowly and that's his next stop, texting her while still driving over. She responds quickly with her room number and he's up on her floor, hovering by her door, before he fully realizes it. Before he can lift his hand to knock, the door is pulled open and he gapes. "Ricardo!"
"Hola," the former ring announcer laughs as Mike hugs him tight. "I had a training session nearby thankfully, so I was able to get her back here so she could rest once this was diagnosed."
"Glad she's not alone," Mike says, walking in and finding her sprawled out on her stomach, looking absolutely miserable. "How'd it happen, Foxy?"
She groans. "We were practicing moves to prepare for this and I just... don't know, went to the top rope and that stupid Nia Jax hoisted me up and threw me down and I... landed hard, and just felt it. It was so awful." She buries her face in her pillows and Ricardo starts massaging her shoulders. "It came at such an bad time too!" she cries out, squirming roughly. "Dammit, I just... wanted to be apart of it..." Ricardo continues trying to sooth her, kissing her shoulder. "Not to mention we're in the middle of this move, and now I can't help like I want, and..."
"It's fine, we'll manage," he insists. "Just relax, Alicia. It'll be ok."
"Oh!" Mike grunts, slapping his forehead. "That's right, you're moving back to California! Don't even worry about it, if you guys need anything, me, Mike, Heath, we're all there for you. Just... ask, we'll all be happy to help."
Ricardo and Alicia exchange glances and she slowly calms down, despite her hands still trembling. "Thanks, Mike," Ricardo says softly, knocking fists with him before leading him to the door. "Good luck against Roman tomorrow."
Mike laughs weakly. "Oh please, I've beaten him before, I'll do it again and again until he leaves me alone."
He knows it won't be a problem, but still it's a bit more of a struggle than he planned for. Not enough of one for him to lose, but one that's more of a nuance because much like Cena before him, Reigns doesn't know how to just stop, to concede defeat and, even when Mike has this in the bag, he keeps coming. So yeah, with a smidge of help from Bo and Axel, he wins. Leans against the entrance ramp and gasps for breath and absorbs the moment as he clings to his belt, laughing breathlessly. "Told you," he mouths to the annoyed looking man in the ring. "I TOLD you!"
He gets to his feet and laughs again, looking around at the unhappy crowd. Shrugging them off, he hoists his belt higher on his shoulder and smirks before turning to leave, Bo and Axel by his side. His smile doesn't fade, even when Kurt Angle lectures him again for the Miztourage breathing wrong, or... something. Nothing can dissuade him as long as he has his belt around his shoulder where it belongs.