Mike had allowed himself to relax. Smackdown, and then Raw, had moved on, and Ziggler hadn't even looked at him. He began to think that there was nothing, that he had just been paranoid the week before, that Dolph had no idea what was going on between he, AJ, Maryse, and Heath. But then... Miz should've known better than to allow himself to relax in this business. He's hosting MizTV, enjoying the company of his Marine 6 co-star, Shawn Michaels, when Dolph interrupts.
He runs his mouth as always, Mike staring him down, that old, familiar, sick feeling welling up within him, and Shawn, oh Shawn tries, even Mike says a few things through the buzzing in his ears, but Dolph never learns to shut up, always has to have the attention, all eyes on him, and then the next thing Mike knows, Shawn's said something about being a second rate HBK wanna-be and Dolph is swinging but Shawn moves and Mike takes the hit, falling over at how quickly it'd come, and he lays in shock for a bit before forcing himself upright in time to see Dolph take Shawn out with a superkick.
Mike tries to get him but Dolph slips out of the ring and all he can do is gape out at the man, kneeling by Shawn and shaking his head in disbelief that this is still happening, that Ziggler would attack Shawn. His attention quickly shifts, however, when Shawn stirs and groans, grabbing at his head. "Ow, did anyone get the number of that truck?" he cracks, and Mike exhales, relieved. A Shawn Michaels making bad jokes is, ultimately, a Shawn Michaels that is going to be ok, so he pushes himself up and holds a hand out for his friend, helping him upright.
He keeps his thoughts to himself, helping Shawn backstage and to the trainer's office to get checked out, leaning against the wall and burying his face in his hands for a minute before digging his phone out and dialing home. When he hears AJ's voice, it's like something twisted deep inside of him unkinks, just a little, and he exhales softly. "Hi, sweetheart," he whispers after looking around to make sure no one's too close.
"Hey, husband," she greets him softly. "Are you ok?"
"Not really." He can tell she's watching Raw, hearing it drone on in the background, so he doesn't even ask if she'd seen the MizTV segment, just stands there and listens to her breathing. "I'm so scared," he confesses weakly.
"I know," she tells him. "I am too, a little. But Mike, we both know Dolph. If he was going to come out and say something, don't you think he would've already? He's not usually one to tap dance around things. He did just spend weeks screaming into a microphone that it should've been him, after all."
"I don't know, I don't know. If he's working with Shane, then the truth may come out, and-"
"If he is, we'll figure it out. I swear to you, nothing Dolph Ziggler or even Shane McMahon could do will hurt us. We will be fine."
He loves her confidence, her secure declarations regarding their family. Home alone with a toddler and pregnant with their second, and she's the one calming him down. He laughs shakily. "I feel like the roles are reversed all of a sudden. I should be the one comforting you, I'm so sorry."
"That's what marriage is for, Mike," she tells him. "I support and comfort you when you need it, and you do the same for me when I need it. Just happens to be your turn this time, is all."
He exhales. "I love you."
"I love you too." She shifts and he can picture her with sudden clarity, sprawled out on their couch in a tank top and a pair of his shorts, hair blowing softly in the wind from a fan that she always sits near during this heat wave, hand resting on her stomach. "Hurry home, please. Your girls miss you."
He smiles. "I miss you all too. And I will." Hanging up always feels like losing a very vital piece of himself but he doesn't get to dwell on it for too long as, when he looks up, he comes eye to eye with Shawn, who has a strange look on his face. Mike tenses, unsure what he heard, or if Mike had called AJ by her name once during the conversation, or-
"Maryse?" he finally asks with a small smile and Mike's jaw unclenches, just a little. "Sorry, I wasn't eavesdropping or anything, but you looked like you needed that conversation, so I didn't wanna interrupt." He walks closer and drops a hand on Mike's shoulder. "Must be really difficult, having to leave your pregnant wife and toddler at home every week."
"You have no idea," Mike mumbles. Shaking his head, trying to refocus, he eyes Shawn. "So how are you? What'd the trainer say?"
"Eh," Shawn shrugs. "It'll take more than some punk using my own move against me to do any lasting damage to this old noggin." He swipes a fist against his own jaw, rocking back on his heels, before grinning at Mike. "I'm fine. What do you say we get out of here and you show me some pictures of Monroe? I know they grow up so fast at this stage."
Mike nods, yearning for the ability to show Shawn pictures of his actual daughter. "Yeah, they sure do," he murmurs, holding the locker room door open for Shawn so they can grab their things and leave.