That split second glance of R-Truth's face before he had passed out haunts Miz for the next week, leaves him gasping awake along with all of the other nightmares he tends to have on a weekly basis, his hands clenched in the sheets of his bed as he tries to reorient himself to reality. This can't go on, he thinks morosely, pressing his face against the soft downy pillow. I have to figure out a way to stop this before Monday...
He spends the weekend dwelling over it, barely concentrating on anything else as he goes over one plan and another, none seeming like a good way to get Truth to stop targetting him. "Dammit, dammit, dammit," he grumbles, forcing his suitcase out of the trunk of his rental, wheeling it inside to the Texan arena. His only idea is to go to Laurinaitis again and try to straighten things out. He's well aware of what Truth can do to careers when he really wants to and he does not want to go down that path, protective of his livelihood especially after seeing what had happened to John Morrison. A quick conversation later with the worthless interim GM and he quickly knows what he had suspected anyway- what anyone on the roster probably could've told him.
He's absolutely no help and refuses to get him protection, and so he reluctantly goes from man to man looking for anyone even possibly welcome to the idea of helping him. But his prior actions while with Truth has made everyone hate him all the more and even money won't sway them, reactions varying from Mason Ryan laughing right in his face to Rosa Mendez shouting at him angrily before dragging her boys away. He slumps against a trunk and scrubs at his face. "Dammit. What do I do now?" he mumbles, before looking up. At the other end of the hall, the Bella twins keep talking in circles around a flustered Ricardo Rodriguez and he tilts his head curiously, thinking.
Time to go another route with this then, he decides with a solemn nod. Standing up straight, he marches down the hall and all but attacks Ricardo physically to get what he wants, which is the younger man going out to the ring and distracting R-Truth long enough for Miz to get in his own attack, take the man out before he can get at Miz yet again. He stands at the gorilla position, slipping his Be Awesome hoodie on over his dress shirt before basically pushing the ring announcer out onto the ramp, his conscience grating at him as the dark haired man walks nervously down the ramp, eyes flickering to and fro. Mike watches for a few moments until Ricardo is safely into the ring before going out the side entrance to the audience, getting into place for his future run in.
Ricardo's insults are questionable and weak, obviously half-hearted and anxious, but it does what it needs to- Truth comes out and somehow talks the other man into singing La Cucaracha. Why exactly it happens, Miz can't tell from his position but Ricardo slaps the mic out of the demented man's hands and almost immediately starts calling out for Miz. The former world champion sighs in exasperation and quickly makes his way through the audience but it's not enough as Truth sweeps Ricardo, slamming him face first against the mat. By the time Miz hits the ring, Ricardo isn't moving and Truth is open to attack, Miz's advantage only held for a few moments before Truth takes back over, tackling him to the mat before Mike succeeds at getting away, quickly running back through the audience to escape.
He senses more than sees as Truth lunges through the crowd after him, adrenaline rushing through his veins as he runs even quicker. He's gonna catch me, he thinks desperately, finally hitting the backstage area and taking off at an even wilder run, now that there's less to dodge. He's just turned a corner and ran past a couple doors when the third to the left opens, his legs working faster than his brain as he turns and enters it. As soon as he's safely inside, the door slams behind him and he groans, worried about who could possibly be inside the pitch dark room with him. Kane is loose, after all.
"Relax," Alex hisses, standing in front of the door. "It's just me. Be quiet for a minute."
Mike nods, rolling his eyes at himself as he realizes that A-Ri can't see him in the darkness. They're still standing in those positions when a mumbling, running Truth goes past, his ranting on something about Little Jimmys not liking cockroaches or spiders drifting into the room. As soon as he's passed, Alex presses a button on his phone, lighting the room up enough that they can see each other without alerting anyone on the outside that someone's inside. Mike squints a minute before looking up at Alex. "Hey, man. Thanks. I wasn't sure I was gonna get away for a minute there."
"Sure. But, Mike, you know if you need help, you could've gone to me?" He looks hesitant and sounds even more so and Mike sighs, shaking his head.
"Listen, Truth already took Morrison out... I'm not involving you in this too. Throwing Ricardo in his path wasn't the best idea I'd ever had, especially considering it wasn't that long ago I had a hand in sending him off a ladder into a table. But he wasn't under Del Rio's watchful eye tonight and I knew it'd be easy enough to force him to do it... So I took advantage of that." He takes a couple steps away, the glow of the cell phone reflecting off his back as he scrapes his fingers through his short hair nervously.
Alex stands quietly, watching him for a moment, before sighing. "Hey, Mike. I'll be right back, ok? Don't leave this room until I'm back to make sure the path's clear, alright?" He nods vaguely, slinking further into the shadowy corner as the door slips open, filling the room with light from the hallway briefly before Alex leaves, shutting the door behind him.
How long he stands there, he's not sure, but finally the door opens once more, Alex whispering, "Mike?"
"Yeah."
"Path's clear, come on, man." Mike tugs on his sleeves nervously as he follows Alex down one hallway and another, frown growing as they head away from the exit. "We're going to check on Ricardo first," he explains. "Make sure he's alright, then we'll go to the hotel. R-Truth hasn't been seen by anyone since leaving the ring, but that doesn't neccessarily mean anything."
He nods grimly, pushing open the trainer's office door. The room's empty of everyone but the middle aged man that only a few weeks ago had done only the bare minimum in fixing up his own injury. "Ricardo Rodriguez around?" he asks when the trainer finally looks up.
"No, he left." He stares for a moment before turning his attention back to the papers on his desk.
"How was he?" Alex speaks up, sensing that the trainer is less likely to answer Mike decently or satisfactorily.
"Aggravated his neck injury a bit, but he should be fine in a few days. He'll need to be examined by his rehab specialist but I don't foresee any major issues."
Alex smiles and slaps Mike's shoulder as he relaxes a little, releasing a deep breath. "Thank you," he tells the trainer before leading his former mentor out of the room. "Come on, let's go get some rest before the morning flights, huh?"
"Sounds good." Once they arrive at the hotel room, Mike lets Alex have first crack at the bathroom, sprawling out across his bed as he waits. He hasn't moved an inch when his phone goes off five minutes later. "Hello?" he asks without checking the ID.
"Honestly, Mike, what do you have against Ricardo Rodriguez?" Morrison chuckles from the other end. "The one night I actually have a minute to check in, I see you've sicced Truth on him? Really?"
Mike rolls his eyes, leaning against the pillows with a sigh. "He's an annoying guy." He grows somber and shakes his head. "I don't have anything against him, actually. I just... needed something to distract Truth and he was in the right place at the right time... or, well, wrong place at the wrong time, depends on how you look at it. If he hadn't pissed him off, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. But," he continues after a moment, "the trainer says he'll be fine, so that's something."
"Yeah." John pauses. "And how are you doing this week?"
"I'm alright." He is still sore from the last two weeks worth of beatdowns but not having a match tonight had helped some, despite the hits Truth had managed before he had gotten away. "You?"
"I'm good." For perhaps the first time since long before Morrison's firing, he thinks he honestly is telling the truth. "I'm doing some improv." Mike blinks, surprised, unable to get a minute to say anything as he continues to talk. "I'm also wrestling a one-night show in Manila next month."
"How do you feel about that?"
"I... it's weird, and I'm not sure if I'm ready mentally for it right now but I'm getting there- I should be good to go in time. It's just sometimes I wake up in the morning and my first thought is WWE, if I have anything on the agenda, and then I remember I don't... I miss competing, you know? I don't miss Laurinaitis and I don't miss the travel or the backstage politics, but I miss actually getting in the ring and doing what I'm good at. I think this event is just what I need... Keep me from getting ring rust. When I signed onto this thing, it hit me... I've decided I'm not going to let Laurinaitis to have the final word. I'm not done as a wrestler, far from it. I just need to figure out where to go from here."
Miz nods grimly, remembering how it had felt when he had been fired for those few weeks, how he and Truth had fought so hard to get their careers back. "I'm glad you're not giving up, John. I honestly hope you can get to a point in your career where you're happy again, no matter where that takes you."
"Thanks. And hey, good luck figuring out a way to get Truth off your back. If anyone can, it'll be you."
"Yeah, that's the plan. I just need to figure out... a plan for the plan." His weak chuckle fades into a yawn that he just barely covers the phone from, Morrison laughing lightly in his ear.
"Yeah, well... you sound pretty wiped so I'm gonna let you go, Mike."
"Alright, John. 'Night."
"Goodnight, Mike."
He drops the phone by his head and sinks further into the pillows, a slight smile on his face. He's asleep by the time Alex gets out of the bathroom and doesn't hear a thing until the alarm goes off six hours later, the first nightmare-free sleep he'd had in what feels like months.