George is warm and babbling in Mike's arms as he sits on the back step and watches the sun slowly rise. He chuckles, poking lightly at the baby's cheek, and looks up at the orange-tinted sky with a sigh. Things with John have finally settled, his various issues following Braun Strowman's attack are all but gone. He can feel, and move around without pain, and even seems his usual, ridiculous self again, grinning and saying and doing stupid things just to get a rise out of their wives or Mike himself. And the damned thing is, even after all of these years, it still works.
Mike gazes down at his son fondly and smooths his hand over the little boy's hair. "I hope you have a best friend like that, too, someday, kiddo. Just hopefully they don't try to give you premature greys as much as mine does."
George wiggles and stretches, making sleepy noises, and Mike's grinning down at him when there's a faint throat clearing noise behind him that makes him jump and look around. "Talking about me, Mike?" John teases him as he slips out of the house and settles in next to him. "Morning, George," he says cheerfully, patting him on the stomach. "Couldn't sleep?"
"He was starting to fuss so I decided to grab him before he woke AJ up, then I saw how beautiful the morning looked and kind of wanted an upclose look at it," Mike admits with a faint smile.
John nods, resting a hand on his bent knee as he looks out over the colorful morning sky. "Yeah, it is really pretty at this hour of the day."
Mike hums, gingerly reaching over and poking John's fingers. "Everything still good?" he wonders, lips twitching when John grasps his hand tightly.
"Yeah, man, everything's fine," he says, letting go of him once Mike's satisfied. "No tingling, no numbness or weakness, I feel pretty good. It probably helps that that big oaf is lost in a swamp somewhere and can't be bothered to dig himself out to come back to Smackdown."
"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy," Mike mumbles, glancing down to find George drifting back to sleep. "I guess our voices were all he needed."
John looks over and smiles. "Guess so." They sit quietly, side by side, watching the sun creep higher in the horizon, until the soft sounds of activity in the house draw them back inside to start the day properly.
That Friday, Mike stands in their shared locker room and examines himself. He has his gear on, and he looks pretty good, he thinks. Considering how long he's been in the business without injury, yeah. Things aren't bad. Blue eyes drifting over to where John is sitting, fiddling with one of his jackets, he exhales slowly. "Hey, take it easy out there tonight, ok? I know you feel good but no need to push things."
John looks up and shrugs, smirking. "Yeah, man. I'll be fine, no worries." Standing up, he joins Mike at the mirror and claps him on the back. "Does this look like someone who needs to take anything easy?"
"Not really," Mike rolls his eyes. Even after almost ten years, John's still everything Mike isn't- agile in the ring, willing to take risks, and so lean and muscular that it's almost frustrating to look at him, especially standing side by side with him like this. He sighs. Guess that's why we work so well, I make up for what he lacks, and he makes up for what I lack. He stares at their reflection for a few seconds longer before resting his hand on John's shoulder and pushing him back gently. "Alright, let's go."
The match against Big E ebbs and flows- sometimes Mike thinks he's going to win, and sometimes Big E comes back with things that just leaves his head spinning. John tries to help, he really does, but something seems to have clicked for Big E with the absence of Kofi and Xavier, and he fights harder and more determined than ever, and eventually there's just no hope and Mike finds himself staring at the lights as Big E stands tall after the pinfall. "Shit," he grunts, rolling towards John, who helps him not to completely faceplant on the floor as he leaves the ring.
"You good?" John asks, bracing him with an arm on his chest and another looping around his back.
"That sucks," Mike mumbles, stumbling forward.
"Yeah, a bit," John agrees with a sigh. "Damn New Day."
Mike closes his eyes and follows John's lead up the ramp with a quiet grimace, his body's aches intensifying with each step. Damn New Day indeed.