AJ looks concerned as soon as he arrives home. She looks him up and down, tugging at her lower lip, and finally breathes out, "Mike..."
He breaks. Immediately. Shoulders slump, all of the carefully designed control he's been holding onto since he ran away from Damien comes pouring out of him and he feels young, like he needs held and protecting, as if he's as small as George or something. "I'm sorry," he breathes out.
She frowns, perplexed. "I kind of feel like I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she murmurs, even as she steps forward and hugs him, pressing him against her and rocking soothingly, right there in the doorway. "C'mon."
He allows himself to be guided inside, settled on the couch, and given a bottle of coconut water, which he thankfully sips at while she curls up next to him, patient and waiting for him to try to explain himself. Which he does, or tries to, sooner rather than later, AJ's eyes widening as she listens.
"So you've been cleared for a little bit," she says slowly. "And you didn't tell anyone. Continued to let John push you around in that chair. Left me wondering if your recovery was going smoothly or not. If there was more we could be doing to help you." She quirks an eyebrow at him. "Mike."
"I know, I know," he says frantically. "Looking back on it, it's dumb, and it's hurtful. But I just... I." He closes his eyes, shakes his head. "It took time for me to get accustomed to it too. AJ, this was my first real injury, you know? I was floored with how quickly it went from 'not cleared' to 'cleared', and I just..." He exhales. "Decided maybe I'd let t play out a little longer, then tell John when I felt more ready. I mean, my knee really isn't 100% right now."
She chews on what to say next carefully, he can see it in her eyes, feel it in her touch when she reaches over and rests a hand on his knee, lightly kneading it. "All I know for sure, Mike, is I saw how you ran on it on TV. It may not be 100% but it definitely is far from requiring your best friend to push you around for longer than necessary."
He hangs his head, staring at his hands. He knows she's right, but still. Still. "I know. But it's done, and it's over. John and I will have to figure it out later."
"Yes," AJ says softly, standing up and leaning over to kiss him gently. "You will."
Mike watches as she takes her leave to check on the kids, and exhales. Tomorrow, he vows.
But Mike is cowardly, and worried, the memory of John's betrayed little face haunting him as he plays with Sara and George, as he tries some of AJ's cooking and nods his approval, through media calls and other promotional stuff for Summerslam. Before he knows it, the week has all but flown by, and he still hasn't had communication with Morrison.
He worries his hands in his lap the day he's supposed to fly out for Raw, and AJ exhales over their morning ritual of juice and coffee before the kids wake up. "You still haven't called him?" she ventures and he looks up.
"No," he mumbles. "I... I tried, a couple of times, but." He shrugs. "Maybe this is better discussed in person?"
She stares at him for a quiet, tense moment. "Yeah," she finally exhales. "Maybe." Sips from her drink and continues watching him. "I know you feel off about everything, but just consider... he probably does too, and do you really want to lose a thirteen year friendship over it?"
Mike grimaces. "I know," he mumbles. "Trust me, I know. As soon as I get to Raw, I swear, I'll find him!"
Except that Mike arrives first, and he does ask around a bit, but as soon as he knows John's not due in for another couple of hours, he makes his way to his locker room. Where he shuts and locks his door under the pretense of A: avoiding Damien Priest, and B: more Summerslam media calls handed off to him as soon as he reached the arena.
Another poor excuse because he could do these with John walking upside down on the ceiling before him easily, but... it, it really is all he's got right now. In fact, he doesn't hear anything from John until well into Raw, when there's a knock on his door.
"Miz?" It's a tech, so he lets the guy in, casting shady glances around the hallway before ducking back in himself. "I've been sent to inform you that tonight is the very first addiction of MoistTV, and you are to be the first guest!"
He feels cold and warm all at the same time, happy for John that he gets his own talk segment, but also sad he wasn't there for him when he was told. Dammit, Mike, he thinks. Get your shit together.
So when he makes his way to the ring, he's happy, and exuberant for his friend, not even bothering to mention how it's just a spoof of his show's name. John's acting normal, asking him about movies, and enjoyable questions like that, when it all twists on its head. He asks about last week and Mike scrambles. Does succeed at making John see things a little differently, maybe, but then Priest interrupts. Makes things worse, of course, and all Mike can do is gape as John suggests perhaps Priest wrestle Mike.
It hurts, his best friend throwing him under the bus like this, and, even worse, leaving him behind when he thought maybe John would help, but he thinks maybe he deserves it on some level, even as Priest defeats him soundly, and he presses his face into the mat. Later, he's limping backstage, when he finds John, lurking not far from the gorilla position.
John's explanations make sense. It doesn't make it hurt any less, but yeah, ok, Mike can face that it was karma for abandoning John similarly last week. Feeling like the air is somewhat cleared up between them now, it feels good to tease, bicker and laugh with his best friend like normal again.
Even so, it doesn't stop him from waking up panting, an old, long forgotten nightmare about leaving John laying the night of that draft back in 2009 replays itself in Mike's mind and he grimaces, looking over at his friend in the dark. Watching how the shadows cross John's face in repose. I hope, he thinks, white knuckling the sheets. I hope we are not heading down that path again... please... I can't do this again...