Life isn't fair, Mike thinks. He's sitting in an empty hotel room in New York, in between interviews and TV appearances to help promote Survivor Series, hours after he'd just talked with AJ when the news hits Twitter. Another handful of releases, only... this time... this time, Morrison's name is there too. Mike sits and stares at the screen of his phone a long, long time. Keeps swiping against the screen every so often to keep it lit up so he could continue staring, as if should he look long enough, the words there would change.
They hadn't even had a chance to work out the issues between them, not even one match. Mike had attacked him, left him laying, then disappeared off to Dancing with the Stars not even a week later. He suspects everything since was Morrison keeping his head down, trying to remain ready for a continuance of their drama- but he'd been fired before anything could come of it. "Shit," Mike mumbles, his face twisted up in anger. At least back in 2011, they had had a proper ending. Mike had seen John out of the company the way John had wanted, injuries and all. This... this is just such a let out, a disappointment.
There's nothing he can really do about it right now. He keeps to his obligations. He looks cheerful and bright for interviews, talks up Survivor Series, talks up Raw, is his most boisterous, obnoxious self, just to hide the tumultuous emotions he's bottling up way down inside. He's not sure how he holds it together, exactly, until Tuesday comes around and he's flying home, but he does. And some of his stress and anxiety washes away when he sees AJ waiting for him at the airport, a small, sad smile on her face as soon as she sees him.
He rushes up to her, and she hugs him as tightly as she can before pulling back to look him over. "Are you ok?"
He shrugs listlessly, watching her. "Not really. I left my best friend when he needed me the most, and maybe if I'd just stayed..." He grits his teeth and shrugs bitterly. "It may not have helped him keep his job but he damn sure probably wouldn't have been hanging out backstage trying to explain yoga to people, christ."
AJ nods, squeezing him again. "Come on, husband, let's go home," she encourages him, aware she can't do much to comfort him from here. The drive is silent, and she's not sure she's ever seen this much frustration and anger bleeding off of him.
The kids greet them as soon as they arrive, and Mike is quiet even as he lifts Sara high and spins her around, smiling faintly. The rest of the day is spent playing with the kids, and even though Mike is putting on a good show, the kids aren't even fully oblivious to the emotions welling up just below the surface, because at one point, Sara moves away from her coloring and pulls herself up onto the couch next to him, standing on his legs to cup his face in her little, pudgy hands, and searches his eyes. "Why do you look so sad, Daddy?" she asks, searching his eyes, so similar to her own.
Mike blinks at her, then lets out a small laugh, one that sounds suspiciously hysterical, a little tearful. He wraps his arms around her and draws her into his chest, stroking her hair. "Daddy just ruined things with his best friend, is all. I miss him." It's meant to be a whisper against her hair that no one else heard, but AJ does, and her heart aches for him, until Sara pulls back, a severe look on her cute little face.
"You should go say you're sorry to Unca John. It's what I have to do whenever I make George feel bad or cry. It's the right thing to do, daddy."
Mike stares at her with adoration and surprise on his face, before giving her a quick little squeeze. "Yeah, I guess you're right, sweetie."
AJ isn't surprised to wake up to an empty bed, with Mike's shows, and the car gone, early the next morning.
-x
The beach is outrageously beautiful this morning. A little chilly, considering the hour, and it being November, but still. Mike stops walking when he sees the rocks and just stands there, breathing in deeply. He can see Morrison from here, and god, the deja vu is incredible. It reminds him so much of 2011, after the first time John had left the company, scaling these rocks even with his messed up ankle. He hadn't startled him then, he doesn't startled him now.
"Hello, Mike," John greets him as soon as he's within hearing range over the ebb and flow of the ocean.
"Hey, John," he says, fingers twitching, hands curling up into fists.
"Are you here to finally fight me? There's no dancing competition you'd rather run off to do instead?" John's voice sounds surprisingly level, as if Mike's betrayal and ultimate desertion means nothing to him.
"No," Mike says honestly. "A wise little girl told me yesterday I should go apologize to the best friend I'd hurt so thoughtlessly. And, well, she's wiser at five than I will probably ever be in my entire life. So here I am."
John huffs out a laugh, unfolds himself from where he's mid-yoga pose against the rocks, and hops down them until he's standing by Mike's side in the surf. "I saw your tweet," he muses. "For my birthday."
"You didn't respond," Mike grumbles, burying his hands in his jeans pockets.
"Yeah, well, I wasn't sure how to acknowledge it on a public platform like Twitter when you hadn't bothered to call me or anything since getting cast on Dancing, and leaving with not even a note or anything." John shrugs.
"I'm sorry. It happened fast, I just... know the timing was horrible, but... It was take it or leave it, and I... I took it." He ducks his head. "Besides, I'll be honest, I wasn't looking forward to fighting you. It was... it was stupid, how I attacked you that night. I was just... I don't even know, burnt out, I guess, after losing the title so suddenly, and just everything we'd lost since then. I guess I just snapped. And I really am sorry."
John casts a glance over at him. "If I hadn't been fired, would you still be here, apologizing, or would we be on The Bump about now, preparing to kick each other's ass?"
Mike stares back at him, deciding to lean into full on honesty. "I don't know, John. Probably. Apologizing doesn't come easy to me, and I wouldn't have had to face my own responsibility in things if not for how Thursday panned out." He digs his hands into his pockets again and shakes his head. "I understand if it's too much, if this time I just took things a little too far. But I've said my piece, and that's all I can really do."
John doesn't say anything for a long moment, staring out into the distance as the sun rises higher in the early morning sky. "It's annoying as hell," he mumbles. "A real pain in my ass. But you know me better than I know myself sometimes." Their eyes meet and John shrugs listlessly. "I forgive you, Mike. Won't forget, but yeah. I can't..." He sighs. "I can't just let the last thirteen years go, especially now when Taya and I are both going to have to pick up from square one all over again. We need our closest friends to have our backs."
"You know we do," Mike tells him, stepping closer to him, gripping his shoulder. "In fact, it's part of the reason I'm here. AJ and I are having Thanksgiving at the house tomorrow, a huge ass turkey, all the sides you can imagine, more pies than anyone could dream of. My parents will be there, Maryse, Heath, Ricardo, Alicia, Sofia, all of the kids. Probably more people I don't even know about yet. You and Taya are invited, if you wanna come." He pauses for a moment, examining John's face. "My door is always opened to you, John. No matter what. You have to know this."
John nods. "Yeah." He clears his throat. "Thanks, Mike. I'll... uh, I'll talk to Taya. We'll... we'll probably be there." He forces a smile and Mike nods.
"Good, I'll look forward to it." They stand silently examining each other for awhile longer yet, and Mike eventually shakes his head. "I should go," he says after awhile. "You let me know what Taya says. And John?"
"Yeah?" he asks, falling silent as soon as Mike steps forward and engulfs him in a hug. He gingerly shifts, and wraps his arms around Mike in kind after a few tense, awkward seconds.
"Thank you."