Mike closes his eyes and laughs. Kurt Angle had clearly worked to move his son away from his orbit this week, leaving him with nothing to do all night. "Well, guess I'll figure out what I'm doing myself then." So he does, flanked by the Miztourage- and calls Jason out to follow up on the week prior, get a little payback for the suplex... but Jason doesn't answer his summons. Instead, Angle comes down to the ring and informs him he has another guest for his MizTV tonight.
Mike flinches, but quickly collects himself as Brock Lesnar and Paul Heyman make their way to the ring. As an A+ movie star, he has the ability to mimic almost anyone, including Heyman, but even he is really proud of himself when he mocks the man's usual spiel and the week prior's warning of Brock leaving the company should he lose the title at Summerslam. Mike lets loose on what he thinks about that- how he's sure anyone but Lesnar will walk out successful at the PPV.
There's no surprise when Heyman finally gets to speak that he basically repeats parts of what Mike had said- before seguing into his own thoughts, which Mike can only blink at when Heyman asks if they like to roleplay. The next thing he knows, the Miztourage are down, picked apart by Lesnar and F5'd like they're nothing. Mike staggers forward, glad to see Maryse has moved out of the way, just to get spun up onto Lesnar's shoulder and knocked to the ring with the same result as his underlings.
He lays there tentatively until referees and trainers run down to budge them up and to the back to make room for the next match. Each step hurts, digging in to Mike's consciousness with every shuffle of his legs. Even Maryse's light touch on his back feels like fire and he groans, relieved to finally lay down on a cot. The trainer immediately begins checking him over, making sure that there's nothing seriously injured before moving onto ice and painkillers.
Mike whimpers at the freezing burn of the ice but sinks down, trying to relax and let it and the medicine work its magic while Maryse soothes her fingers through his hair, speaking in low French while he leans into her touch, wishing AJ was here. He's been through a lot in all of his years in WWE but nothing can prepare you for the rigid brutality of the F5, his body feeling like it's been in a literal tornado.
Every inch of him aches, low and dull, but just bad enough that he barely sleeps that night, looking ragged and eyes bloodshot when he finally lands in California the next morning, AJ tsking lightly and taking his luggage before leading him to the car. "Just rest, husband," she says, stroking his hand. "I'll have us home before you know it."
He nods, staring at her as she drives, staring out with a frown at the LA traffic. "I love you, AJ," he mumbles.
She glances over to him and smiles, leaning in to kiss him at a red light. "I love you too," she breathes. "Maybe next time don't antagonize the monster, huh?"
He smiles sleepily at her. "I'll try but you know my big mouth. Runs before I think a lot."
She clicks at him. "I know. All too well." Kisses him again before turning her focus back on the road before them, turning off of the freeway towards their house. He's not surprised to see John there, watching the baby, and handing over Sara to AJ as he walks to the car to help Mike up and out.
"Rough week, huh?" he cracks.
"Yeah," Mike mumbles. "Well, at least I didn't attack some punk kid with my title belt." He grips the roof of the car until John grabs his arm and sweeps it over his shoulders, cheerfully walking Mike towards the house.
"Where do you want him?"
"Couch is fine," AJ says with a small laugh, putting Sara down on her blanket and sitting at Mike's feet. "What can we get for you?"
"A tub of ice?" John cracks.
"Something like that," Mike mumbles. "Just ... I'll sleep for awhile and feel better. It's good to be home."
AJ smiles at him. "Alright, if you're sure." They sit with him, talking quietly, until he crashes, then head off in their own directions to let him rest.
He's not sure how long he's out, but when he comes to, it's shadowy in the room and Sara is sprawled out over his chest, fist in her mouth, fast asleep. He smiles down at her, running his fingers through her silky dark hair. "Napping with daddy, huh?" he asks, surprised at how much better he feels. "I think it's just what I needed. Thank you." He kisses the top of her head and leans back against the couch cushions, listening to the simple peace surrounding the household.
It's rare. He thinks he likes it. Sometimes. Closes his eyes and dozes back off.