Back to Basics 2: Encontrar una Manera chapter 45
To: Alberto Del Rio
From: WWE Headquarters
Congratulations on qualifying for the Money in the Bank, which will now determine who will be the next WWE World Heavyweight champion. We look forward to seeing how you do on that evening. Unfortunately, we already have this week's events booked solid and you will not be needed.
Alberto reads the email again and again, never making it past those words, before allowing his phone's screen to darken to conserve its battery, placing the device down heavily on the desk before him. He scrubs at his face, wondering what kind of momentum he is truly supposed to have when they never use him, gritting his teeth at the thought of falling behind, not being as sharp as the others in the MitB match due to time away from the ring. He hates the thought of it, he hates everything right now. Surging to his feet, he grabs some things, including his bag of training supplies, and heads for the front door. "Sofia, I will be back later," he calls out to the housekeeper. "Whatever you've made for lunch, share it with the rest of the staff. I am not hungry."
He's gone before she can respond, not even giving himself time to feel guilty. He drives towards his gym, eager to get in the ring and box away some of his anger, but embarrassment overrides it the instant he looks at the building, not wanting to have to discuss it with the other men within, gritting his teeth. Well then, he thinks, realizing that coming here was a mistake and quickly driving past it. Where to, Alberto? He wanders for awhile, driving here and there... before finding himself in front of WWE's training facility. He looks up at it, dazed that he had driven this far without realizing. Cars are filling the parking lot and he sneers at the thought of the rookies inside, trying their hardest to get good enough to even come close to his level. "Right," he spits. But he parks and gets out, leaning against his car as he thinks. No one inside would be a challenge worthy of him or the training he wants to accomplish before the pay per view, but he has other reasons for even considering going inside the developmental facility.
"Is there something you need?" Kalisto inquires, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at the taller man.
"Si," Alberto responds. "I'm not sure what you know of Ricardo's history, but..." He hesitates, wondering how best to word this without making Kalisto doubt his pick in tag partners, or cause Ricardo further pain if it should get back to him. "He has had a difficult year. Many people have left him in the lurch, myself included, and I would hate to see it happen to him again. I hope you will not continue the cycle."
Kalisto stares at him doubtfully, before looking over at Ricardo. "I see no reason why I would... eh, leave him in the lurch, as you say. We gel well, I believe we will make a good team. You have nothing to worry about."
The conversation echoing through Del Rio's mind adds to his anger. Despite Kalisto's words, it's clear there's been no communication between Ricardo and the other luchadore since the day after their loss at NXT. Ricardo hadn't been used at tapings or live events, nothing. The El Local gear once more hangs unused in his closet, and Del Rio shakes his head grimly at it. "Liar," he grouses before pulling away from his vehicle and walking purposely towards the door, opening it so roughly that it squeaks in protest. Ignoring this, and the few shocked glances he gets from people in the hallway, he walks into the main training room, staring around at the various rings scattered along the massive floor. It's easy to spot Kalisto, as he is the only masked man in the room, and he walks up to him, towering over him until he turns and looks up.
Mask or no mask, it's easy to tell that he's unnerved by the look on Del Rio's face, backing up half an inch. "Alber-"
Del Rio's on him before he even finishes saying his name, gripping him by the collar and pulling him up until they're eye to eye, Kalisto's struggles going unnoticed. "You are no better than the others," he tells him. "You get mi amigo's hopes up, he even carries a match for you after you get overwhelmed by your opponents, and you still leave him in the dust after the loss? Hm? Nothing to worry about, ha!" He shakes the shorter man and then pushes him to the ground, ignoring the others trying to separate them. "You are not worth my time, you are not worth his allegiance. If you even dare to tweet him again, I will be back," he warns him coolly.
He returns to his car and, after another hour or so of aimless driving, finds he can't concentrate on anything, much less actually training without risking injurying himself or anyone else. So he returns home, unsurprised to find that Sofia had saved some lunch for him, offering a strained smile to the ever loyal housekeeper as she serves him grilled chicken and a baked potato, a worried look on her face that only eases some when he thanks her sincerely.
That night, awhile after Raw ends, Alberto is laying in bed, his arm thrown over his eyes as he ponders what to do with the rest of his week, when his phone buzzes next to his head. He sighs and collects it, answering it blind. "Hola?"
"Hola, El Patron."
"Hola, Ricardo," he says softly. "Did you have any interesting interviews tonight?" Ricardo makes a quiet disgusted sound and Alberto chuckles. "I take that to mean no?"
"Bo Dallas," he responds after a moment. "I may as well have stayed in Florida as well."
Alberto's grin slips a little but he shakes it off, rolling onto his side to stare out of the window at his grounds, not wanting to make Ricardo worry as well. Sofia's worry makes him feel bad enough. "Si, well, then perhaps we could've trained together or something, mi amigo. I do need to get ready for the Money in the Bank, after all."
"When I get back to Florida tomorrow, I'm sure we can figure out some time to do that," Ricardo offers through a yawn, Alberto tsking. "Lo siento, insomnia kept me up last night..."
"Again, mi amigo?" His problems with sleeping had returned with a vengeance after NXT Takeover, and Del Rio feels so badly for him, wishing there was something he could do to help the younger man out. "Well, I am not so eager to fall asleep either, so we can talk until you doze off, if you wish."
"Ay, I don't want to keep you from sleeping, El Patron-"
"You're not," he insists. "Come now, Ricardo, tell me what ridiculous idiocity backstage I missed today." As Ricardo begins to talk, Alberto is relieved to hear his friend's words grow more lighthearted as he gets more into his subject, describing Alicia Fox's latest antics and Alex's horrified reaction to most of them.
Thursday morning, Ricardo wakes up in his own bed, enjoying the feeling of that Florida humidity against his shoulders as he yawns and squirms out from under his sheets, padding into his bathroom and brushing his teeth, half-heartedly poking at the bags under his eyes from an uneven sleeping schedule. He grimaces and splashes water on his face before going to change into jeans and a shirt, eager to start his day. He ends up at an NXT event, where he's not used, but it's still nice to be around the young talent that will soon shape the future of the WWE, even when he runs into Kalisto, who only pauses long enough to quickly greet him, his words clipped and polite.
Ricardo watches him walk away, eyes widening when Kalisto turns sharply and faces him once more. "Ricardo, you have some very loyal friends out there. That's how I know, no matter what, you're going to be just fine." He then continues towards the locker room at the end of the hall, leaving his former tag partner behind, wide eyed and in shock.
It's not hard to figure out what he means, though. Only one person could inspire a reaction quite like that, after all.
For this reason, Ricardo finds himself at the familiar gate, typing in the familiar code and driving up the familiar driveway only a few hours later, pausing at the front door when he hears faint music drifting from the side of the house. He trails past the bushes to peek towards the patio, unsurprised to find Alberto lounging back in a simple white chair by the table, a soft Mexican song coming from the surround system that he'd set up outside for when he feels like enjoying the nice weather, losing himself to the melody.
He responds immediately when Ricardo's shadow falls upon him, however, his eyes shooting open and staring up at Ricardo's somber face. Standing up, he faces his former ring announcer and frowns, brows knitting together as he reaches out for him, a thrill of anxiety passing through him. There had been talent releases today, it hadn't mattered to him, none of the people were important, but perhaps he had missed something, perhaps... "Mi amigo? Is something wrong? Wha-?"
He's curious, it's no lie. Part of him wants to know what Alberto had said or done to Kalisto, but he can guess by just looking at the older man. Had heard bits of what Alberto had said to the luchador all of those weeks ago when he was cleaning Alex up, and what Kalisto had said back, how much he had wanted to believe it... until they had lost and everything fell apart at Ricardo's feet, yet again. He shakes his head and throws his arms around Del Rio in a tight hug, burying his face in his best friend's shoulder. "No," he mutters. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine. Muchas gracias, mi amigo."
Alberto is in shock at the impulsive show of affection by Ricardo, something which, yes, had been somewhat rare since they had become friends again, understandably so, but as he tries to make sense of the younger man's actions and words, he doesn't want to lose this moment, so he quickly hugs him back. "I did nothing to deserve your thanks, Ricardo. But I'm glad you're ok." He smiles slightly as Ricardo nods against him, his tension easing as he rubs circles against his back.