A/N: Happy New Year, here's to a kinder 2021 for us all!
It was not supposed to be this way. Mike had had it worked out in his head, how he'd replicate Seth Rollins' Money in the Bank victory all of those years ago- Drew McIntyre and AJ Styles were no Roman Reigns and Brock Lesnar, after all. He thought it'd be easy enough, but instead, here he sits, no briefcase, no hope, just staring vacantly out into his yard, listening to laughter and the clattering of dishes behind him. AJ and Taya are bustling around, John leaning against the stove, stirring, while they all prepare for a small Christmas meal, just the six of them- oops, Mike re-calculates in his head when he hears a soft bark- eight, counting John and Taya's dogs.
He'd agreed with an easy enough smile weeks back when this was first suggested, never imagining things would end up this dreary once the holiday actually came. He'd gotten his hopes up, for a moment, with the lawsuit suggestion, and had even kept in close contact with lawyers and other people with knowledge of the ordeal- briefly, he'd thought maybe there was a chance, but as more time passed, more hope dwindled and he was now just waiting for the call declaring the judge throwing his case out entirely.
So now he's sitting here, brooding over how amazing everything was supposed to be right now, him marching around the house with the world title, watching his kids' eyes light up every time they saw it, the pride on AJ's face as she talked with Taya about being married to the world champion, John getting the first shot at the belt, and... He groans and buries his face in his hands before giving up and just going inside, annoyed by everyone walking on eggshells around him. "Hey," he says, leaning in to kiss AJ and smiling weakly at John and Taya. "How's it going, guys?"
"You are freezing," AJ grouses, rubbing her arms briskly, then shrieking when Mike wraps her up snug in his arms. "You're the worst! Oh my God!"
He laughs and tilts her face up, leaning in to kiss her, slow and sweet. When she smiles against his lips, he knows she's fine, but remains for a few moments longer, enjoying how the lights from the tree play off of her eyes. "Am I? Really?" he teases and she huffs, swatting his chest before tugging him back in to continue the kiss.
"Yes, you are," she huffs with a laugh.
When he finally breaks away from her, he wanders the kitchen, before turning into the living room to look at the tree. The longer he stares at it, the more he thinks something is wrong with it. Finally it clicks with him and he bristles. "AJ," he calls out, and she peeks into the room.
"Yes?"
He sighs. "Where's the briefcase ornament that was right here until at some point this morning?"
She flounders. "Briefcase... ornament..." She fails at acting clueless.
"Yes," he says, not having any of it. "I know you had to have taken it, or John did. Just please, I want it up there. It doesn't hurt for me to see it. I mean, it does, but... I want it on there. Please, sweetheart."
Her shoulders slump. "But you've been so sad... I didn't want another reminder just to make it worse for you every time you walk by up there." He doesn't move away from the tree and stares at her with wide blue eyes, and she groans. "Fine, fine," she sighs. "It's not like I threw it out or anything."
The ornament ends up behind a stack of games they rarely play and he smiles slightly as she lays it back in his hand and he turns to examine the tree, gently replacing it right towards the front, hanging loosely next to his gingerbread ornament. "Thank you, AJ," he says softly, barely able to take his eyes off of the tree whenever he's near it the next couple of days they get to stay in California before venturing off once more for Florida and WWE Raw.
Despite it all, Christmas goes alright, even if he and John are a little subdued. Still waiting for a call that never comes to decide their fate regarding the briefcase. Mike heads out depressed, and John overcompensates by being loud and abrasive, clearly trying to cheer him up, and failing horribly.
Losing to Gran Metalik feels like... feels like his soul's left his body, for a split second, staring down at the ring from above as if this isn't reality. Mike thinks at some point he will blink his eyes open and it all will be different, the last couple of weeks just nothing more than a bad dream. But no, he does not. One minute he's on the mat, the next, John is leaning over him, his hair tickling Mike's bare shoulders, demanding to know if he's ok or not, and just trying to generally snap him out of the detached shock he's lost in as he stumbles backstage.
Mike eventually finds a quiet, rarely used stairwell in a shadowy part of the arena and claims it as his own, slumping down on one of the steps with a dazed look on his face. John stays with him, bless him, and tries, he really, really does, but Mike can't think about anything else right now, his mind going in circles about everything- the briefcase, his failed attempt at cashing in, the loss tonight, everything bad that had come before it, starting to play in a flood of self-deprecation and disgust.
He's about at the end of his rope, very, very close to turning to John and probably causing unbelievable amounts of damage to their friendship when Adam Pearce comes by. And... and Adam Pearce says Mike has won his court case and returns the actual, full sized, briefcase to him due to the technicality of Morrison being the one to speak those words weeks back to cash in his briefcase. He clings to the case in disbelief, jaw dropping.
Mike turns to look at John before they scream, as one, in disbelief that it'd actually worked, and in such a short amount of time too. Mike lunges up to his feet, feeling strangely dizzy and in shock. "Did that really just happen?" he demands, and when no matter how often he blinks or how hard, the briefcase doesn't change into something else in his arms, it finally registers with him. It's all real. He'd won.
"It did!" John cries out and the two of them begin dancing wildly around the stairs, John really getting into things with the railing, but Mike doesn't even care, just laughs and holds onto the briefcase tighter, vowing this time will be different.
He will not make the same mistakes twice.