"Are you feeling better?" AJ looks and sounds sympathetic, her eyes deep and boring into his, as if trying to read his soul from where she's sitting in California, unbothered by the small phone screens the only thing connecting them right now.
"Yeah," he says. "I'm fine. I mean, you know, I hate that we lost the last couple of weeks, but John isn't mad at me. I'll rebound. I always do."
She smiles at him. "Of course you do. I've never doubted that."
He exhales slowly and rests his thumb on the side of the phone. "I really miss you," he says softly, watching her eyes dim. "I'm so sorry about all of this."
She shakes her head, staring intently at him. "Neither of us asked for this," she tells him calmly. "We'll just keep doing what we're doing, and navigate it as well as we can. Like everyone else around the world is. Just promise me you'll do the best you can to stay healthy and safe... ok?"
"I promise," he says. "And you promise me the same. Please, sweetheart?"
"I promise," she echoes, smiling shakily at him. "I love you, husband."
"I love you too," he says quietly, shifting around in bed. He's content just to hold onto the phone and stare at her as the night progresses, but he knows she has to get some sleep, especially with needing to wrangle the two kids in the morning. "I'll call you as soon as I can tomorrow," he tells her with a small smile.
"You'd better," she says with a soft laugh, stifling a yawn. "I'm sorry, I should go get some sleep. George has had some restless nights the last few days."
Mike nods, understanding where his son is coming from all too well right now. "Ok, give them both a kiss from me, please."
"Will do," she says sleepily.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight, husband."
He waits until the call disconnects to put the phone down, wanting every last possible second to look at AJ that he can get. Sighing, he rolls anxiously onto his back and stares up at the ceiling, soft wisps of the moon faintly lighting up the room. He glances over at Morrison, who is fast asleep, and shakes his head.
It takes what feels like forever for him to finally drift off to sleep and even then, it's a restless kind of rest, nightmares haunting him of Morrison finally getting tired of his losing ways and attacking him in the middle of a match. Funny how karma can be delayed sometimes, huh?
His own voice echoing in his ears, Mike sits up with a strangled gasp, finding that things are still ok, Morrison is sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at him incredulously but disinterested in actually attacking him or anything close to what he experienced in the dream. "Whoa," he says quietly, reaching out for Mike and letting his hand hover not too far away from his knee. "Are you ok, Mike?"
"Yeah," Mike forces out, gnawing at his bottom lip as he tries to get himself back under control. "I... just a lot going on, you know?"
"Trust me, I know," John says, shifting over to sit next to Mike. "I guess it's harder for you though, huh? You're here separating from your wife and kids, and I know you feel guilty for how things have been shaking out the last few weeks. But, hey, Mike." He grips Mike by the jaw and stares deep into his eyes. "I don't blame you. Alright? My record's been pretty spotty at times too since returning- Royal Rumble, anyone?- but you never let it sway you against partnering up with me again. So I'm not going to let these couple of stumbles leave me doubting anything either, alright? We're fine. Don't worry about it. We'll get them next time."
Mike exhales harshly and lunges forward, tangling his fingers in John's shirt as he hugs him tightly. "Thank you," he mumbles, muscles slowly loosening as John massages up and down his back slowly.
"You're welcome, man." John smiles, in no hurry to break the hug until Mike slowly pulls away. "Better?"
"Yeah," he sighs. Not entirely, but getting there. Still, he has moments of doubts. Especially when he and John get commentary duties during New Day's match against the Forgotten Sons. It's hard to focus on it, but he tries, wanting to get a handle on this new team in case they should have to compete against them in the future.
He's mostly ignoring Cole and Graves until he hears them trying to mock John over who writes their material. He twists it back around on them sarcastically a moment later and feels John nudge him lightly, glancing over to find an appreciative look on his best friend's face. John pays him back not long later, basically challenging Cole to a fight after he digs just a little too far in getting digs in on Mike for losing. It doesn't stop Cole, however, and Mike finally loses it. "It's like you're trying to build a fence between us or something," he exclaims, too frazzled to build a proper metaphor with his words, but John smoothly interjects.
"It doesn't matter if he tries, I know parkour, I'll just jump over it."
It soothes Mike, helps him to calm down enough to get through the next few minutes of the match, relieved when it ends and they can leave. "God," he grumbles. "Cole is so obnoxious, more so when there isn't even a crowd to drown out his babbling."
John nods, reaching out and digging his knuckles into Mike's shoulder. "You're alright, right? You know that nothing he said there deserves a moment of your thought. Right? We're fine. I promise, Mike."
"I know," he sighs. "I do. It's just..." He digs his knuckles into his eyes and shakes his head. "I can't help but think maybe this is all karma for things I've done in the past." He looks up, eyes all but pleading with John to convince him otherwise.
"Mike, we've both done a lot in the past," John says patiently. "If everyone in this business rose and fell by karma, no one would get anywhere with anything. Trust me, this isn't karma. It's just something we have to work through, shake off. Get better at. It'll be alright."
Mike nods, wanting so badly to believe him. Still, he can't entirely shake that nightmare, of John standing over him, boot held against his jaw, snarling down at him. I hope so, he thinks, slowly following his partner down the hall towards their locker room, beyond eager to change and get out of here, go back to their hotel where he can think, try to relax. Maybe get another couple hours of sleep before another nightmare jerks him back into the cold uncertainty of reality.