It takes getting used to. Not being able to go where he wants, do what he wants. He can walk, with crutches, carefully, but only in the house. And even then, he can feel it. The weakness in his knee, the lack of stability within it with every step. He remembers what Seth Rollins had said about his knee, following his tear all of those years ago, and for a brief, fleeting moment, feels sympathy towards the man. Because this? This sucks.
They still haven't heard exactly if it's a full on tear or just partial, and not knowing puts him on even more of an edge, gritting his teeth against the unfairness of it all. "Please," he mumbles as the seconds tick away, AJ sitting next to him, stroking his arm gently. He tries to think no news is good news, but damn, it doesn't feel like it.
At some point, she grows tired of the TV channel flipping he's doing, leans over and kisses him on the cheek, before murmuring, "I'm gonna make lunch. Any requests?"
He shakes his head, barely taking his eyes off of the screen. "Whatever you want," he responds quietly, and she kisses him again, gentle, before pushing up from the couch and taking her leave. He watches her go, envying the ease of her step, before turning his focus back to the inane cooking show flashing before him.
It sucks, he's not used to being laid up. Even when he was concussed, or just sore from years upon years of competing, it was never this bad. He could at least get up and do things. Now he can't even do interviews that easily because, well, what he can say, really, when things are still so unknown? He closes his eyes and leans back against the couch, desperate for something good to come his way. Anything.
Raw that week isn't even interesting- Johnny isn't used except for promotions for WWE hitting the road again- and isn't that a blow, because Mike always feeds off of the crowds and he'd been looking so forward to hosting more MizTVs or Dirt Sheets and having people eating out of the palm of their hands again.
He forces himself to watch most of the show, however, unwilling to slip in his awareness of the product. Of who's coming, who's going. Champions, and what they did to get there. Someday, he'll be back, and when that day comes, he wants to be on top of his game, mentally and physically.
AJ allows him this, even as she plays with the kids and gets them to bed. Once done, she settles in next to him and half-watches herself, waiting politely until commercial to lean in and kiss him. "We should decide when we want to have Ricardo and Alicia over," she murmurs against his skin. "I think it'd be good for you, get your mind off of stuff for awhile."
He glances at her. "Yeah," he says quietly. "Maybe. Sometime soon." He wraps an arm around her and sighs as she tucks her head into his neck, cuddling closer, careful, always so careful to not jostle his knee. It's almost annoying, though he understands she just wants to help him, make him feel better, not worse. "Hey," he mumbles, resting a finger under her jaw and gently making her look at him. "I love you," he says.
She smiles, eyes gleaming in the pale light overhead. "I love you too, Mike," she says, kissing his shoulder. "Always and forever."
Her words, the look on her face, settles something deep inside of him. He knows it intimately, but it's still nice to hear. Especially when he feels at his weakest.