Week two. John frowns and licks his lips, glancing over at Taya. She's texting back and forth with Robert Stone and Jessi Kamiya, and she's the only one between the two of them who seem fully content. He exhales slowly, not wanting to disturb her concentration, before pulling his own phone closer and scrolling aimlessly through his texts. He has a number of them, especially from his acting coach, but Miz's... has remained untouched since August the 24th.
He frowns at the litany of texts he'd sent in the early morning hours, still struggling to wrap his head around what had happened, why Mike had yet again done what he did. He closes his eyes and taps his thumb absently against the screen, considering sending another text. Because, ok, yeah, Mike's a jackass with no loyalty, still, but it's been two weeks with no word, no sight of him, and... sue him, but John's a tinge worried.
So, after another lackluster Raw appearance, where he'd passed out to Karrion Kross' submission within minutes, he's watching Taya on NXT, smiling at how excited she is over finally getting a title shot against Raquel, when AJ messages him. He immediately sits up and grabs for the phone, staring at it.
John, my husband's a dumbass and I know- despite everything- you may be worrying, so just wanted to let you know. He's fine, but once he knew his knee was ok, he accepted to be part of something. It's leaked to the internet already so I figure it's fine for me to talk to you about it.
John swallows, rereads it a couple of times, then tries to formulate a response. Keeps backspacing the few words he manages to type out, trying again and again, until finally he settles for, Oh. In what?"
He sits for a few moments, waiting. Goes back and forth between thinking maybe another movie, or hosting something else, or... The last thing he expects is the answer he gets. Dancing With the Stars.
He snorts. Hard. His vision swims under the realization that, while he's been siting around, worried and uncertain, his former best friend's been learning how to paso doble, and who knows what else. No shit, he eventually texts back. Well, good luck to his dancing partner. She'll need it. Bitter, yes. Truthful, absolutely. He knows better than anyone that Mike hasn't fully changed from the backstabbing guy he's been for the better part of 12 years, willing to betray anyone to stay on top.
AJ doesn't respond for quite awhile, and finally returns with, I'm sorry.
He's typing back before he even registers it. Not your place to apologize for him. Not your responsibility, you're not the problem. He stares at the screen for a minute, then follows up. Give the kids a hug for me. I miss them.
AJ's response is immediate, and leaves John feeling a little choked, a lot tired. We miss you too.
The next morning, John reads WWE's statement about Mike's inclusion to DWTS, and shakes his head with a dry laugh. Taya skims it over his shoulder and rolls her eyes, resting two fingers under his jaw and tilting his face towards her, kissing him slow and deep. "They'll regret that. Man can barely walk a foot without tripping over himself. At least we can watch and laugh until he eliminates himself," she muses, tapping his jaw with a small smile. "If you want," she adds after a moment, searching his face quietly.
"Honestly, I don't know," he says. "We'll see how I feel closer to the time of."
She nods solemnly, kissing him again, lacing their fingers together. "Come on, let's find something better to do. Wanna go to the beach?"
"When do I not want to go to the beach?" he asks with a soft huff of a laugh, and she chuckles, tugging on his hand to get him to move.
He obliges, watching her as they make their way into the bedroom to change into shorts and swimsuits. I'd be so lost without her, he thinks. I'm so lucky. He pulls her flush against him as soon as she's changed, trailing his hand over every strip of bare skin he can find. "I love you," he tells her.
Her eyes soften as she beams up at him, leaning up slightly to press a kiss to his nose. "I love you too. Now come on, let's go!"
He laughs as she grips his hand and drags him bodily out of the apartment, his tension slowly leaving him as he accepts that Mike is more than fine to leave him behind, again, and go off to do his own thing. Dancing, he scoffs. Who would've guessed...