Life can change in an instance. One minute, you're getting thrown around and brutalized by Lars Sullivan, the next, you're competing at Hell in a Cell for the Money in the Bank briefcase against Otis, best friend in your corner and the world at your back.
"This is wild," AJ murmurs from Mike's phone screen, and he nods vacantly, leaning against the door of the hotel he and John are staying in. Neither could sleep, and are standing outside, enjoying some fresh air from across country. It's still dark for both of them, the hour so outrageous that even nature is slow in coming awake, be it Florida or California, and he enjoys the silence as he stares down at his wife's shadowed profile.
"It is. I feel like John and I have come full circle," he says softly. "If I win this thing, we've gone from being forced to partner together to actually being a legit team while I'm holding it." He laughs. "This business, I swear."
She smiles down at her phone, the soft glow from the screen illuminating her soft lips, the curve of her jaw, and he wishes he could be there, to touch and kiss her, press her close and take his mind off of things lost in the feel of her, but alas. "It is rather amazing, isn't it?"
"Yeah." He rests his head against the edge of the hotel and sighs, some exhaustion finally starting to creep in as his body reminds him it needs sleep. Especially with the PPV in a matter of hours. "Hey, sweetheart, I think I'm gonna try to get a couple hours of sleep. You should try to do the same."
She sighs. "Yeah, I know. Knock 'em dead tonight, alright? We'll talk soon. I love you."
"That's the plan," he says with a soft grin. "I love you too." He blows kisses at the phone screen before ending their video chat and heading back inside. John is still dead to the world, curled up on himself and breathing deeply and steadily into his pillow. Mike leans against the edge of his bed and watches his best friend for a long moment before toeing his shoes off, nudging them under the mattress, and sinking down under the comforter, squirming around a bit to get comfortable.
His thoughts go in circles until exhaustion claims him and he sleeps through until nearly 9 AM, only waking up to John's teasing smile and a large mug of coffee waved enticingly under his nose.
From there, it's a busy day. They run around, doing a few last minute errands, John meticulously picking his outfit out for the night, and Mike double checks his gear, and- time rushes past until Hell in a Cell begins and Mike stares up at the monitor, hands clenching and unclenching anxiously as seconds tick past, his match coming up faster and faster.
"Hey," John says, reaching out and covering his fingers with a steady warmth. "You're gonna beat Otis and get back that briefcase, no big deal. Just breathe, man."
Mike nods absently, trying to believe in his friend's words, focusing on the feel of John's palm over his. "Yeah," he murmurs. "I'm trying."
It's difficult, though, and more so when he's actually in the ring across from Otis, Tucker and John on the outside. He focuses as best as he can on what's going on in the ring, holding his own against Otis, but then John gets himself ejected from ringside and panic thrums deep in Mike's chest- Otis still has Tucker, but Mike's all alone, and-
His eyes widen and he looks out at Tucker after Tucker had hit Otis with the briefcase while Otis was sprawled out in the ropes, and- memories of betrayal long ago zip through his memories, how John's eyes had looked after Mike had attacked him followed being drafted, and he fumbles for a minute but ultimately gets the pin on Otis, shallow breaths trembling through his body in time with the referee's count, and...
The bell rings. Mike wins. The referee hands him the briefcase and Mike clings to it in amazement, laughter bursting from his chest. Success!
When he makes it backstage, John greets him with a whoop and Mike crashes into him in an enthusiastic hug, laughter bursting from both of them as they lean back and look down at the briefcase. "...I definitely need to have this thing disinfected," Mike says, already getting the distinct whiff of stale lunchmeat and old bread from it.
"For sure," John says with a laugh, shaking his head. "But man, it's yours! One step closer to being world champion again!"
When Orton goes on to win the title from McIntyre later that night, setting the stage to recreate Mike's original title win, he thinks maybe, just maybe, he can actually accomplish this.
So what if they both get beat down and ultimately defeated by McIntyre the following night, nothing will change the fact that Mike has the briefcase in hand, and can use it any time he wants. With John by his side, he knows he can accomplish anything.