"So what's the plan for tonight?" Mike asks Heath while they sit backstage and wait for Raw to start.
Heath's eyes light up, just a little. "I'm gonna ask for a raise! Wait til Shane's in a good mood, 'n' go for it. I mean, I got kids, man. And I've been here long enough, always loyal'n'all, think they could afford to pay me a lil more, y'know?"
Mike's lips twitch a little. "Yeah, man. I know. Well, I hope you get it." He claps Heath on the back. "Right now, I think the show's starting so I gotta go. Lemme know how all of that goes later, huh?"
Heath nods. "Will do. Good luck, Mike."
"I don't need luck," he says, some of his old bravavdo bubbling up over the surface. "But thanks," he says with a wink that makes Heath laugh as he ducks out of the room to start the show off.
More bad luck, despite his boisterous claims. Mike loses the fatal fiveway, fails at gaining another chance at fighting Joe for the Intercontinental championship, but things only get worse from there. He's stewing over this failure when he hears shouts in the distance, and looks up. Sees Heath on the monitor, and Drew, and... his breath catches as Drew pummels the poor guy, Heath sprawled out on the floor, limp and miserable as the Revival and Shane pull Drew off of him. "Shit!" Mike hisses, getting up quickly and trying to make his way around the maze of hallways to find him.
He's not alone when he does, there's a handful of wrestlers and the trainer's staff already there, kneeling by Heath, trying to get him to respond. Mike joins them, rests a hand on Heath's shoulder, and feels the minute trembles there. "Heath," he says softly, and exhales when his friend's eyes blink open ever so slowly.
"Mike," he whispers, accent thick, miserable.
"Yeah, buddy. I'm here." He rubs his back slowly, waits until Heath gingerly starts to move. He and Titus help him to sit up, lean against the nearest wall.
"I..." His face crumbles. "I was just tryin' to... tryin' to provide for my girls, y'know? They're all I got anymore, Rhyno's gone, 'n'..." He lets out a sound suspiciously close to a sob. "Drew usedta be my best friend. What the hell happened to 'im? Why..."
Mike eases forward and hugs him, hands warm between his shoulderblades. "It's gonna be ok, Heath. I promise you. It'll all work out." Heath's shaking his head, breathless and trembling, against Mike's shoulder, and Mike closes his eyes, hugging him tighter. "It will. Just give it time." He pulls back and smiles at Heath grimly. "What do you say you go with the trainers and let them make sure you're ok, huh?"
"Alright," he says weakly, nodding thankfully when Mike and Titus pull him up to his feet and the trainer takes over, guiding him down the hall to his office to get examined.
Mike stares after him for a minute before looking down the opposite direction at Shane's little party. As much as he hates himself for it, he understands Drew's motivations, somewhat. He'd been there, willing to throw any number of friends and former or current partners under the bus if it just got him what he wanted. He'd done it so many times over the years, and he regrets it all so much now. "You'll get yours," he mumbles. "Somehow, someway. It might not be me, it might not be Heath, but someone will make you regret all of this." Probably Roman, he thinks. It won't do much for him or Heath personally, but it'll still be satisfying to watch. He hopes.
Sighing, he turns and makes his way down the hall to sit with Heath, make sure he's ok before they leave.