It's a tiring week. Flying back and forth from Saudi Arabia, wrestling Rey to another loss, then the light bulb moment where he decides his path to Wrestlemania. A tag partner to compete against Rey and Dominik, because that always fixes all of Mike's problems. He tweets about it before getting on the plane back to the States, and god, it's a long flight, he's forgotten after the months of the pandemic keeping them within the confines of the States, Mike usually only ever traveling back and forth from California to Florida for the better part of a year.

So when he lands, gets home, finds his arms full of his wife and children, hungry and tired, he collapses into bed after a hurried meal of sandwiches and vegetables. He sleeps through the rest of the day, only waking up to find it's nearly 1 AM and AJ is sleeping peacefully next to him, lips parted as she snores quietly. He smiles at her, brushes some hair out of her eyes, and carefully moves to sit up.

Grabbing his phone, he leaves the room and finally gets around to checking his messages, his mentions, everything else. The emails aren't too significant, the tweets are average- until, that is, he sees Morrison had tweeted, jokingly declining his need for a tag partner, and saying he couldn't give up his opportunity at the AAA title. Mike squints, thinking, and then goes to check for results.

John had lost, he learns after a few moments of looking, and he frowns, feeling bad for his best friend. He sits for awhile in the living room, listening to the house settling around him, the shift from hot to warm to cool leaving the house creaking and complaining at the change, as subtle as it is. He dozes off again at some point and wakes up to AJ kneeling in front of him, kissing him softly. "Hey," she greets him as soon as she catches his eye and he hums, tangling his fingers in her hair and drawing her in for more kisses, needing a few moments to spend just like this.

When they finally ease away from each other, he sits up and groans. "I'm gonna shower and get some breakfast," he informs her. "Then I'm gonna go out and find John. He tweeted me and I think we should talk."

"Yeah, alright," she says, leaning back on her heels. "The kids are up and would like to play with their daddy, if you can pencil that in."

He chuckles. "I'd be glad to," he says softly, going to find them sitting at the kitchen table. Something twists deep inside when he sees how they light up upon seeing him, his lips lifting into a trembling kind of smile. He loves his life, he really does, but damn, he wishes he could spend more time with them when they're so little and eager to see him. He knows they'll get older and that'll change as they grow more independent, and it leaves something aching in him when he allows himself to really think about it.

For now, though, he shakes it off, sits with them and cheerfully goes through breakfast with them, laughing and telling them stories of Saudi Arabia between bites. The children he'd seen to do with the Special Olympics and other interesting stories he thinks they may enjoy hearing.

By late afternoon, he remembers he'd wanted to go find Morrison, and he figures the man has had plenty of time to get back home, so he takes his leave when the kids go down for their naps, heading out to the beach.

It's bright, the sun slowly sinking down below his sight line, casting an orange glow through the spindrift, but Mike adjusts his sunglasses and continues walking until he finds him where he knew he'd be, traipsing along the rocks that have always been John's preferred place. "Hey," he calls out when he's sure John won't slip and fall at the slightest startle.

John smirks and turns to look at him. "How'd I know you'd come to find me?" He flips off of the rocks and lands not far from mike, shaking his hair out. "Did you sleep Saudi out of your system yet?"

"Mostly," Mike says. "I saw your tweet."

John shrugs, smirk slipping a little. "Yeah, you know, just a joke, man. Don't worry about it, I knew you weren't talking about me-"

"It's Logan Paul," Mike offers. "if that helps. At all. You have to know if i really had a choice, I'd choose you any day of the week, but I figured it'd be easier to get someone like him onto the card. You know how weird WWE's gotten lately."

"Yeah, I do," John says. "And I don't blame you, you do what you gotta do, y'know? I'm good. I promise. I'm already getting title matches and everything. Don't worry about it."

It's a relief, even if Mike still feels guilty, the look in John's eyes not helping out with that much. "I'm still sorry," he offers and John huffs slightly, glancing back at him.

"No need to be, it's not like you were the one who fired me. That was all them. As for everything else, we worked that out a long time ago. You tweeted on my birthday that I'd probably forgive you again, and you were right. So let it go, man. I did."

Mike exhales. Stares out at the glistening water. "You make it sound so simple," he says with a flat grin. "But yeah, I'm trying. I am."

They sit for awhile in silence, enjoying the quiet around them, when finally John says, "I do have one question?"

"Oh," Mike says. "Go ahead."

John blinks, a few times. "So out of everyone, why Logan Paul?"

Mike frowns as John quirks an eyebrow at him. "It's not that insane of an idea," he huffs.

"It isn't?" John asks, picking at the sand between his feet. "I mean, why? Weren't you going after Bad Bunny for being a celebrity coming along and taking spots at Wrestlemania? And now you're doing the same with this guy?"

Mike flushes a little. "Well, maybe I saw the errors of my ways," he says loftily.

John rolls his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You're something else, Mike."

Mike smirks, choosing to take it as a compliment. "I know, right?"

John shakes his head, laughing at him as the waves lap and the sun sinks further down, and. Yeah, it's the most peace Mike's had in awhile, so he leans back and luxuriates in it.