It's weird. Mike generally isn't one to feel guilty, but something about Raw sticks with him. He'd been so close to getting taken out by Uncle Howdy, but then Paul Ellering pushes him out of the way and gets knocked out to the mandible claw while Miz watches, wide eyed. He scrambles out of the ring before it's too late, before Howdy can notice him. Eventually everything quiets, Howdy is gone, and Ellering is surrounded by medical and members of the Final Testament, Karrion's dark gaze locked on Miz.
He can't get away, they won't allow him, he's trapped between Karrion, Scarlett, and the Authors of Pain, and there's nothing he can do but give in. Suggests they think up a plan, and immediately the tension in the room dissipates. Mike breathes a little easier, relieved when Karrion allows him to go with the promise to talk to him at Raw the coming week.
He makes it back to his hotel room and sinks down on the bed, burying his face in his hands. Things are somehow only getting worse. He'd escaped, finally, from R-Truth, but now he's gotten himself between a rock and a hard place between the Wyatt Sicks and the Final Testament. He exhales shakily and stares up at the ceiling, grimacing. "I need help," he mumbles, fishing his phone out of his pocket.
The phone rings for what feels like forever- but is really only a few seconds- before clicking. "Hello?"
"John," Mike says with a loud exhale. "I need your help."
"You can't ask Karrion?" he teases.
"No, I cannot," Mike snaps. "Please." He softens his voice. "John, I can't figure this out on my own."
John sighs. "Fine. You're lucky I like you. Let's figure this out."
Mike closes his eyes, overwhelmed with thankfulness for the one friend in this business who's always had his back, despite all the crap Mike's put him through. "Thank you."