It was supposed to be so easy. So simple. AJ Styles vs Drew McIntyre, just run in there when the time seems right, cash in, rush up the ladder and claim his title. Mike could picture it, and the celebration afterwards melding into Christmas festivities with his family, it all would've been so perfect. And it almost was. He came so close! Fights and scratches and claws but no matter how he fights, it all goes downhill sometime after John, clearly trying so hard to help, swings a chair at Omos and... the chair shatters into pieces but Omos is unaffected. Which sends John rushing away while Omos slowly chases after him.
It should leave them all on even footing, but now AJ is pissed, and Mike is frustrated, and they fight each other as much as Drew, and ultimately it's Drew climbing the ladder after knocking them both away, it's Drew with nothing to stop him and all Mike can do is listen as he pulls the belt down and the bell rings. He closes his eyes and groans, gritting his teeth and slamming his fist against the mat again and again, hearing AJ's muffled curses not that far away.
It wasn't supposed to end like this.
The thought echoes in Mike's mind for the rest of the night, all of the next day. It's hard to prepare for Raw that evening, difficult to pick a suit out, he can barely focus on anything John says, and when they learn they're going to be in six man action later with AJ against Keith Lee, Sheamus and McIntyre, Mike's mood plummets even worse.
He does, however, cling to something John says at the start of the show, immediately beginning to call lawyer after lawyer, trying to convince them to work on the loophole of how Mike hadn't been the one to verbally cash in to get his briefcase back. He's not sure if it'll work, but it's some hope, at least.
Which is sorely needed after Omos puts John through a table and they lose again for the second time in twenty four hours, Mike gritting his teeth as he crawls over to where John had been tossed. "John. Hey, John." He nudges him until John looks up, shaking his head. "Can you move?"
"Think so," he grunts out. "Ow, damn Omos." He rubs his back and exhales shakily.
"Let's get out of here." Mike stands and holds a hand out to him, waiting patiently until John collects himself enought o reach out and tug himself nearly upright.
They make their way slowly backstage and John leans against the wall as he watches Mike silently dig through his bag for something to wear. "I'm sorry," he says suddenly and Mike pauses, looking up at him.
"What?"
John looks away when their eyes meet, at his shoes, against the door, towards the flickering monitor across from them. "I... I just figured I was helpful the last time, when you needed me to cash in, I thought this time would be the same way. But the time came, and I... I couldn't do anything, it... it all just went really, really wrong, and I didn't want any of that for you, but I didn't really get an opportunity to help like I wanted. So I'm sorry for everything last night."
Mike drops the handful of clothes he's sifting through and stands, walking over to John to clap him on the shoulder. "Hey, John, look at me." When he finally does, Mike offers him a vague smile. "Listen, I do wish it had gone course I do. Buuuut, I mean, you have no reason to feel this bad about everything. You friggin fought off Omos for me. That's a lot, trust me, man. I knew it was going to be an uphill battle against Drew McIntyre and I went for it anyway. That's on me. Not you. I could've waited a little, I could've made any number of choices to make this end result easier on myself. But I didn't." He exhales. "I guess I just wanted something impressive to bring home to my family for Christmas."
John's smile is a little sad as he nudges Mike. "Hey, man, you know all AJ and the kids want is you happy and healthy at home with them, right?"
"Oh, yeah," Mike says with a small grin. "I know. That's why I always want to do more for them. Because they deserve so much more than what I can provide for them."
John shrugs. "I bet if you asked them, they couldn't think of much they want. Except for more time with you."
Mike exhales. "I know. I'm a workaholic. Well, I've been trying to be a little better about that. And I think I'm succeeding."
John smiles at him. "I think so too," he says. "But Mike, whether you're champion or just the same usual awesoooome guy you always are, the kids are going to be ridiculously hyped either way. Trust me. They just want their dad. And some outrageously priced toys. But mostly their dad."
Mike laughs, then rolls his eyes, pushing John fondly. "Ok. Ok. I know you're right." He sighs. "Thanks, John. I have plenty of time to worry about what comes next. I'll do my best not to let it ruin our holiday."
"Fantastic!" John exclaims, clapping. "Now, finish getting your stuff together, I wanna get out of here."
"Worried Omos might catch you?" he jokes as he returns to digging through his duffel.
"Ha-ha," John says dryly, pausing for only a second before rushing over to his own bag.
Mike grins to himself as he selects a couple of comfortable things to leave in. It's not going to be the gold-filled Christmas he had hoped for, but John is right. After this year, getting to celebrate together with those closest to him, healthy and happy, is a success all of its own, and he vows to do just that, without dwelling too deeply on the lack of title at his side as he does it.