Come Sunday, Alex Riley can't help but think the tension in the Hell in a Cell arena is different than he's ever felt it in the short time he's been in WWE, as if the happenings lately are nearing their peak. Morrison senses it too, his gaze watchful, careful, as the whispers of their coworkers drown out everything else around them. "This doesn't feel right," he mumbles, adding to Alex's anxiety.

The younger man isn't on the card this evening so he has nothing to do but sit around and wallow in the multitude of emotions lingering around the hallways and locker room, missing Mike more and more with each passing moment. If anyone could've cracked some stupid comment and eased the tension, even a little, it would've been him.

"Oh God, would you look at that?" John asks after a bit, biting into Alex's thoughts.

He looks up to find that the show has begun, Christian vs Sheamus starting things off. But focus was far from being on the match, John Laurinaitis shown arguing with- Alex blinks. "Mike?"

"And Truth," John says with no shortage of disgust in his voice. "They're still working together... Yeah. This'll end well." Sure enough, the two get kicked out of the arena despite having tickets, and the pay per view proceeds as planned, audience members slowly getting drawn back into the action they're supposed to be paying attention to.

The Vice President of Talent shows his face in the locker room eventually, eyes falling onto Morrison. "Hey, John, can I talk to you for a moment?"

Exchanging a glance with Alex, the parkour master shrugs and stands. "Sure." After a muted conversation from the other side of the room that the younger Superstar can't hear, John returns with an intrigued look on his face.

"What was that?"

"I'm getting an impromptu match in a little bit," he says with a shrug, a glint in his eye. "You'll see," he says, stalling Alex's barrage of questions with an upheld hand. "It's soon enough."

He leaves a few moments later and Alex watches as Cody Rhodes comes out to unveil the new-old Intercontinental title that flashes white in the overhead lights. His suspicions about what match Morrison's been thrown last minute into are confirmed as Laurinaitis interrupts Cody's time, announcing Morrison as his opponent.

Despite Cody's disadvantage of no preparation time and competing in a suit, he defeats Morrison to retain the title, John's disappointment bleeding through the TV screen as he leans over the top rope and tugs at his hair. Alex feels bad for him, sucking in a deep breath as the pay per view carries on to a planned match.

"I'm fine," he says as soon he returns to the locker room, looking tired, a little sore, and extremely annoyed at yet another loss, but all in all he looks as alright physically after a match as any of them does so Alex sits back and lets him stew in silence as they watch the monitor.

HHH and Laurinaitis are bickering in the back when they get called to the tag team locker rooms about something; Alex glances over at a grim-faced Morrison when it's revealed that Miz and Truth had attacked the two men. "This is getting worse..."

"It is," he agrees, frowning. "I don't know what Mike's thinking anymore. I know he wants his job back, but does he think this is really helping things any?" He looks away, mumbling something about Truth's influence as Alex glances back at the TV, his gaze heavy and troubled.

They're still sitting there over an hour later, half-watching the main event of CM Punk vs John Cena vs Alberto Del Rio when the match reaches its conclusion- ADR winning the title back once more, mostly thanks to the machinations of Ricardo Rodriguez.

When the cage rises, allowing Cena back inside, Alex has his mouth open to say something when all thoughts fade away, his vocal cords going with them. He gapes as two forms make their way into the ring, somehow familiar despite the black hoods partially covering their faces. As they begin attacking everybody and anybody within the now lowered cage, the camera catches one of their faces. "Mike," he chokes near soundlessly. John glances over at him, nodding quietly before turning his attention back to the monitor.

They watch on in speechless horror as the beat down continues, wrestlers, referees and cameramen alike getting the brunt of the brutality. No one is safe. Their frozen shock is shattered like ice when the locker room door slams open, leaving a dent in the wall behind it. "Come to the ring now!" Laurinaitis' gravelly voice demands of them, before he disappears as quickly as he'd appeared.

The locker room cleans out as Superstars from both Raw and Smackdown rush down to try to wrench the cell door away from its hinges to get inside, stop this madness. Alex can't get to the door, too many people clinging to or wandering around it, so he walks along the side of the cage, watching as Mike continues to mindlessly attack referees and former colleagues alike. "Mike!" he yells, gripping the cage. "What are you doing?" His voice garners no response and he steps back, horrified as Mike all but ignores him, his focus completely bent on decimating everyone in reach.

In that moment, Alex realizes he doesn't recognize his former mentor at all. What did R-Truth do to you?

He looks up as the echo of chains cracking apart fills the arena, realizing that they're cutting into the prison with bolt cutters. He walks automatically back around the ring, his eyes locked on Mike as he seems to come back to his senses, motions to Truth and they easily drop their weapons, falling to their knees as one. They're surrendering, he realizes, throat dry as he rejoins Morrison. He hadn't noticed at first but police are surrounding the area, mixed in with security, and as they watch, Mike and Truth both are handcuffed and led out.

Morrison is tense nearby, an unreadable look on his face as the security keep the superstars back to let the police through with their prisoners. They're barely to the ramp when there's a commotion and HHH lunges forward, parting the sea of security and superstars to attack both men, raining punches upon them both despite the handcuffs keeping them from defending themselves.

Alex closes his eyes as the madness continues, unable to watch any longer. Dear God, could this get any worse...?

After a few more moments, John slaps him on the shoulder, pushes him forward. "Come on, man. Let's get out of here."

He swallows and glances around at their fellow competitors still lingering around, looking shocked and troubled. "Ok," he mumbles, licking his lips as he follows him up the ramp. They linger in the locker room only briefly, long enough to collect their things and head out. "Where are we going?"

John throws his bags into the trunk and pauses as Alex follows suit, a weary look on his face. "I'd like to say the police station but I doubt they'd let us see him... and he'd probably be pissed if we came across R-Truth, it'd just make things worse in the long run anyway. So I guess the hotel."

Alex nods, disappointed and drowning in so many feelings that he can't even label them all. "Alright." The drive back to the hotel is almost painfully quiet, the radio for once turned off. All they hear is the road going by beneath their wheels and other outside noises.

Upon arriving to their room, Alex slumps down on the hotel bed, relieved to be away from prying eyes and gossiping whispers. Morrison leaves the bathroom after a few moments, immediately going to his own bed too. They stare at each other for a moment before John sighs and drops down onto the mattress. "Do you think he'll be alright?" Alex asks after a few moments, his hands clenching around the sheets.

"No idea," Morrison finally responds, tilting his head to watch as Alex nods glumly. "He's resourceful. He'll think of something. Hopefully sane this time."

The younger man huffs a pathetic laugh before taking his turn in the bathroom as well. He's too stressed and worn out to even bother with a shower, contenting himself with brushing his teeth. He's barely put the toothbrush in his mouth when he hears John's phone ring distantly. Who could that be at almost midnight? he wonders incredulously, running the brush across his teeth.

Before he can even rinse his mouth out, John is yelling his name. He looks up, pulling the toothbrush out of his mouth. "What?"

"Get out here!"

Alert to the strange tone of Morrison's voice, he quickly leaves the room, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "What?"

John motions to the phone and holds it away, putting it on speaker. "Mike? Why the hell didn't you call a lawyer or something? Why call me?"

"Because, John, Truth will handle that with his free call." Despite sounding exhausted and pissed, Mike seems relatively fine and Alex sinks down near where the phone lays on Morrison's bed, his eyes wide. "I just wanted to talk to you for a minute."

"Mike?"

There's a pause as Mike breathes into the phone. "Hey, Alex," he finally says quietly, as aware as the other two that the minutes are ticking by. Police will probably only be so patient with what should be a call to get legal representation.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry, we'll be out of here by tomorrow. Anyway, uh, John... I just wanted to call to say..." He pauses, sounding almost embarrassed before chuckling helplessly. "Happy birthday, ok?"

Alex watches speechlessly as John peers at the clock before turning his attention back to the phone between them, an unreadable look in his dark eyes. "Mike..."

Before he can say anything else, Mike curses quickly. "I have to go, probably lucky I had this much time. John, Alex? I... I'm sorry, alright? I didn't... expect it all to go this far. Really, I didn't."

Before either man could formulate a response, they hear an impatient voice snap, "Are you done yet?" before the phone clicks, the dial tone following it. They stare at each other before John reaches over and fumbles with his phone, flipping it shut. "Well..."

"It's your birthday?" Alex blurts out, flushing as John stares at him.

"Yeah."

"Well, damn... happy birthday."

He watches as John shrugs, looking unenthused. "Yeah. Thanks. It's just another day, you know? I'm tired, think I'm gonna try to get some sleep."

"Oh, ok," Alex whispers, taking the hint. He taps his forgotten toothbrush against his knuckles as he turns back to the bathroom, trying to think of something to do to make John's birthday not completely crappy. Mike would have a much better idea than I do... but there's nothing I can do about that...

The next day, Raw's atmosphere is even weirder than Hell in a Cell's the night before, everyone staying in their own worlds, going through the motions as they handle their individual matches and drama. Alex doesn't focus on much of it, trying still to work out something to do for Morrison after the event, the afternoon proving fruitless as both were busy with media and various other things leading up to the event itself.

He does, however, pay attention when John is put in a match against Mark Henry, even coming close a time or two with his speed and agility but in the end it's just not enough, the vicious man taking him down with a World's Strongest Slam. His hands tighten around the edge of the bench as he watches, holding his breath. "Don't..." he mutters, when it appears as if Mark is far from done. Thankfully the crazed man doesn't go for a chair, instead going for another slam against the mat, his entire weight crashing down on top of John.

It could've been much worse but Alex still winces, quickly making his way out to the gorilla position where Morrison is slowly being helped up the ramp to by the referee officiating the match, one of the men Mike had attacked the night before. He awkwardly holds the curtains away so John can walk through without stumbling or hurting himself further. "Here," he mutters, taking over for the referee, who looks relieved.

"I can walk," John grimaces, trying and failing to struggle away as the larger man loops his arm around his shoulders.

"Sure you can," Alex says dismissively, allowing him to pick his own speed as they limp back towards the trainer's office. His back is obviously killing him, each step a reminder of Henry's weight crushing him down into the mat twice in a row. Some birthday, he thinks sympathetically, easing him down onto the nearest couch once they arrive. As the trainer checks him over, Riley keeps an eye on the monitor, listening curiously to the commentators discussing the previous night's events and how Miz and Truth are officially suing HHH and the WWE. Oh, great.

By the time the trainer finishes with Morrison, the announcement of the vote of confidence being held later is all anyone can talk about. Before long, John is looking miserable and annoyed so Alex taps him on the shoulder, careful not to put too much pressure on his still sensitive back. "Hey, let's go outside for awhile."

"Alright." After ice and some painkillers, walking is less of a slow, agonizing process for him and they make their way to the parking lot. John settles down on the hood of the car, staring up at the darkening night sky, breathing in deeply as Alex hovers around the side of the car, the tension from inside draining off of them. "Wanna bet HHH gets a vote of confidence somehow, despite everything that's been going on?" John asks after a few moments, his voice quiet, barely hearable over the sounds of nature mixed in with cars going by streets surrounding the arena.

"I'm not sure," Alex responds. "We might be surprised. Everyone is just.. angry, and looking for something or someone to put it all on. He might not get the answer he's looking for tonight."

John sits up slightly, grimacing as his back stretches. "If you were voting, right here, right now, what would you say? Confidence or no confidence?"

Alex leans his head back against the cool glass window and sighs, considering the question. Remembers the look on Mike's face following his firing, the various weeks he or Mike or John had spent sitting around with no matches at all, and finally the night before, HHH's ruthless attack against Mike and Truth while they were defenseless and handcuffed. For a man who had said ad nauseum barely two months back that business and personal should be separate, he fails time and again to follow his own words, first with the feud against CM Punk, and now this.

After a long moment, he looks up and locks eyes with John. "No confidence." It surprises him how easily the words come, no doubt or second-guessing behind them. Morrison nods slowly.

When the time comes for the actual vote, they're back in the building and walk out with their fellow Raw competitors, taking in the somber, tension filled air as they wait for the rest of the locker room to spill out into the arena. Morrison grows more and more tense with each word from HHH's mouth, and he's not the only one. Alex peers around the ring at all of the intense expressions and wonders how long it'll go before someone blows or a fight breaks out. Or both.

However, neither really happen. Wade Barrett, Christian, Mike Chioda and Beth Phoenix speak for their individual groups but it's ultimately Jerry Lawler that pushes it all to a head, by stating his mind and finally walking out. This leads the rest to slowly, one by one, follow his lead until finally the only ones remaining are Morrison, Zack Ryder, Airboom, Santino Marella, Percy Watson and himself. Alex watches quietly, uncertain, as the few remaining discuss whether they really want to follow the others and walk out or not.

"Bros, you don't really want to do this, do you?" Zack asks, his eyes glinting nervously in the bright overhead lights.

"Why shouldn't we?" John asks, glancing from man to man. "Due to crappy security, you both were put in a position to be attacked last night," he says to Airboom. "HHH has lost whatever control he thought he had when he took over for Vince... do we really want to be a part of this anymore? Who knows what's going to happen next."

Evan and Kofi talk quietly amongst themselves for a moment before nodding reluctantly.

Zack looks frustrated but John turns to him. "You've been treated worse than all of us- long before HHH returned. And by what I'm seeing, his taking over hasn't made anything easier for you. If anything, it seems like he's just teasing you most weeks. Come close to giving you what you want, then snatch it away. Why disrespect yourself by sticking around for that?" He glances from Santino to Percy Watson, who seem to be waiting for everyone else's decision, before glancing at Alex. "What do you all say?"

More discussions occur amongst themselves as Alex watches Cole slip around the other side and leave, and finally Airboom leads the way slowly for the ramp, the rest following. They've barely made it to the gorilla position when Zack seems to change his mind and turns back around, returning to HHH's side, but Morrison shrugs and continues on to the locker room to grab his stuff.

Alex gapes after their indecisive coworker for a moment before turning to follow John. He doesn't say anything until they're both in the locker room, it somehow feeling wrong to shatter the somber quiet as people wrap their minds around what they've just done, or witnessed. "So... that was different," he finally manages.

John pauses in recollecting his things and looks up. "Yeah, it was." He frowns briefly before digging back through his bag. "Do you think it was the wrong decision? You didn't have much to say back there..."

Alex takes a deep breath. "I'm not entirely thrilled to possibly be without a job right now but... wrong decision? No... After you asked me if I would vote No Confidence, I started thinking about what all's gone on since HHH took over. There was no other answer, I think. Something has to give."

John nods, a relieved look on his face. "Yeah, I know. Hopefully if someone else steps in and takes over, things will get better. Guess we'll find out soon, huh?"

Alex nods, leaning over to pick his bag up off of the floor. "Ready?"

"Yeah."

Alex had wracked his brain all day, trying to think of something simple that Morrison wouldn't mind doing on his birthday despite everything going on, but between Morrison's match against Henry and then the walkout at the end of Raw, anything that sounded half-way decent was out of the picture now. Both of them were so tired that nothing sounded better than just returning to the hotel and catching some sleep before their flights home.

This plan, however, is delayed when they arrive at the hotel and find Miz sitting outside of their room, a box in one hand and a plastic sack in the other. As they walk over to him, he looks up and smirks almost sheepishly. "Took you both long enough. Up for some cake and coconut water?"

John looks from him to Alex, who holds his hands up defensively. "It wasn't my idea, I swear. I'm as surprised as you."

Mike chuckles as John sighs, pushing between them to unlock the hotel room. "Go ahead," he orders, eyes glued on the bakery box curiously.

John has barely entered the room when six cupcakes of varied flavors- chocolate, red velvet and vanilla- are set up on the bedside table, the bottles of coconut water resting nearby. "Where's your friend at, Mike?" he can't help but ask, making a face as soon as he's stopped speaking.

Miz, however, doesn't flinch or do much more than roll his eyes. "He's back at the hotel room, asleep. I had just enough time to get these things before a nearby bakery closed," he explains calmly.

Wanting to break this train of conversation, Alex leans forward, snagging one of the cupcakes. "Better get yours or I'll eat them all," he threatens, realizing that so much had happened at Raw tonight he hadn't had time to even glance at catering.

It's a false threat and they all know it but the two men lean forward anyway and grab a cupcake each, John also snagging one of the bottles away. "Happy birthday, man," Mike says, holding his cupcake up expectantly.

Alex clues in and grins, following his mentor's lead as they stare at Morrison, who looks at them like they're the goofiest people he's ever seen. Finally he lifts his up as well and they tap the three baked goods together like they're making a toast. "Happy birthday, John."

John looks back and forth from Alex and Mike, shaking his head. "Thank you," he finally says, lips twitching upwards into a rare, honest smile that neither Alex or Mike has seen on him for much too long.