Back to Basics 2: Encontrar una Manera chapter 47
Alberto is notified that he's needed at Raw this week, so he accompanies Ricardo to the arena, the two of them relieved to be traveling together again. "I'm glad those in charge wisened up enough to realize how much they need me on their shows," he says, staring up at the building. Slights like this, considering the timing, makes him even angrier as he ponders his decision... "It took them long enough."
Ricardo smiles, tracing circles against the hood of the car. "Best for business, si, El Patron?"
"Si," Alberto sighs. Turning to look at his former ring announcer, he smiles. "Let's go inside and see what's on tap for us tonight, mi amigo." Ricardo nods and follows him inside, tugging his luggage over his shoulder. They pause in front of the match board and stare at it until Del Rio slaps his hand against his forehead, Ricardo only just able to hear muffled grumbling between his fingers. He reaches out and pats him on the shoulder while rereading the match schedules- including a rematch from Smackdown. The four on three match that had frustrated Alberto so thoroughly, left him steaming the entire weekend.
"It'll be alright, El Patron," Ricardo tries, wanting to make him feel better, more comfortable in what's to come. His ability in matches had always been hindered when Alberto was trapped in his own mind, dwelling on how much disdain he holds for his opponents, or worse, his teammates. "You'll be alright."
"I know," he grits out, standing up straight. "Come, Ricardo. I'm sure you have interviews to prepare for, and I suppose I should get into my ring gear." The ring announcer nods, allowing himself to be led back to the locker room, talking lowly to Alberto in Spanish, since it had helped to calm him many times in the past. While Del Rio changes and stretches, Ricardo taps his pen against a sheaf of papers, memorizing facts and details about Money in the Bank, wanting to do the very best that he can in the upcoming interviews he has been assigned. Alberto watches him with a faint smile. Despite his displeasure with the match, even he isn't too wrapped up in his own thoughts to miss just how hard Ricardo is working to prepare, how hard he's always worked on whatever's been thrown his way. "Ricardo?"
"Si?"
"I'm proud of you, mi amigo." Alberto sighs, not used to verbalizing his feelings like this, especially in English. "No matter what's thrown your way, you keep your chin up, you remain standing, and you trudge through it with so few complaints... and trust me, anyone else would be complaining the entire way. But not you. Through being my ring announcer, and that perro RVD's manager, both of our horrible treatment of you, every way that WWE also has overlooked you. You have always deserved better, but you've always taken the few opportunities provided to you and excelled..." He reaches out and squeezes Ricardo's shoulder with a small smile, observing his overwhelmed response to Alberto's words.
"I... I'm not sure what to say," he whispers through dry lips. "Gracias, Alberto. That means a lot, especially coming from you." Alberto smiles at him, waiting patiently until Ricardo blinks away his shock and smiles back. "I always try to do my best..."
"I know you do, and you always succeed at it, mi amigo." Del Rio nudges him with a wink before turning his focus back to preparing for this upcoming tag match.
Ricardo smiles at him before returning to his papers, only distracted when Paige is on TV, commentating the divas match. He makes a face when Cameron hijacks the entire thing, her voice grating at him a bit until finally the match ends in Naomi's favor, the Funkadactyls facing off with Paige in the middle of the ring. He frowns, not sure what to think that will mean for the Divas champion come this Sunday.
He's between interviews when he leaves the locker room, looking up to find Alberto talking to Renee Young. He freezes as Cesaro and Heyman interrupt, Cesaro mocking him when Del Rio looks up, locking eyes with Ricardo. A flash of some sort of emotion crosses his face and Ricardo watches as Alberto volleys back, sneering at Cesaro before taking his leave of the interview area, their match up soon. Scrambling to catch up to him, Ricardo stares up at him worriedly. "El Patron, what was that? What's going on?"
"It's nothing, mi amigo." He claps him on the arm before turning sharply and heading towards the gorilla position, to hopefully get his focus back on the match inching ever closer. Ricardo watches him go with a vague frown, sighing quietly before he returns to the locker room to watch the rest of the show on one of the monitors. Things go from bad to worse with the four-on-three tag match, Alberto's team once more on the losing end despite having the numbers advantage. The ring announcer cringes when Kane comes out and begins laying everyone out, chokeslamming Alberto harshly to the mat. It is then announced by HHH himself that Kane is going to be the eighth man in the WWE World Heavyweight Championship Money in the Bank match.
Ricardo pales and stands, walking in a daze to the gorilla position, watching as the other competitors in the match stumble through the curtain, all looking roughed up or barely able to stay on their feet. Alberto is among them, Ricardo quickly slipping past Barrett to grip the taller man's arm, looping it around his shoulders to keep him upright as they walk side by side to the locker room, Alberto's breathing heavy in his ear. "C'mon," he mutters into Alberto's ear, helping him to sit down on a nearby bench. "There, alright." Rubbing circles against Alberto's back, he slips around and stares into his eyes. "What hurts? Do you need the trainer?" He knows all too well what chokeslams feel like, how much they can hurt, the kind of damage they can cause... especially this close to a heavyweight title match.
"No," he breathes, sighing. "Just... give me a minute." Ricardo nods, moving away, but Del Rio grips his wrist, stopping him. "Hey, I didn't say stop the massage, amigo." He smirks painfully as Ricardo's lips part and he nods, quickly moving his hands back to knead the tense, hurting muscles in his back and neck. He closes his eyes and slowly allows himself to relax, his head lulling to rest against his chest. "You always give the best massages, Ricardo," he murmurs, the warmth of the younger man's hands remaining with him even as he gets dressed, walks out to the car and watches through half-lidded eyes as Ricardo drives them back to the hotel. He's asleep before his head even touches the pillow, his soft inhales and exhales steady and deep.
Ricardo smiles down at him before pulling his shoes off, easing his jacket and pants off so he'll be more comfortable and shaking the sheets out over him, folding his dress clothes for the next day over a nearby chair, putting the others neatly back in his luggage. Remembers every time in the past they've done this very thing with a quiet sigh. "Buenos noches, El Patron."
"A tag team match with him," Alberto snarls, throwing his dress jacket across the room and almost smacking Heath Slater with it.
"Hey, man, dammit, watch it!" Heath exclaims, recoiling like it's a snake coming at him, snagging Hornswoggle and pushing him out of the room before Alberto can respond.
Ricardo glances at him almost apologetically, rushing forward to retrieve the jacket, before turning back to Alberto, folding the article of clothing spastically. "Alberto-"
"I deserve better than this!" he snarls, digging his fingers through his hair. "Worthless tag matches, with worthless opponents and worthless partners!" His speech switching into angered, hurried Spanish that even Ricardo has trouble keeping up with, he paces around the room, gritting his teeth until finally Ricardo gets in his path, gripping his shoulders tightly before he can brush past him. "Ricardo, move!"
"No!" the ring announcer exclaims. "Talk to me, Alberto. I know you're tense, because the title match is coming up, and so much else is going on... but this isn't like you, what's going on?"
Alberto sighs, resting his hands on Ricardo's arms. He knows he owes him an explanation, especially considering that only Ricardo could help him work past such things in the past, regain his focus, but... he doesn't want to weigh him down with yet another thing. Although he can tell, with one glance, that the former ring announcer won't let this go. So he tells him, words low and steady, relieved for the dawning realization in the younger man's eyes with each word. "Every time I am in that ring with Cesaro, I see him laughing. Laughing at your pain, mi amigo. It is bad enough having to face RVD and Ziggler, knowing what they've done to both of us through the years, but I am competing against them, I can make them pay. How am I supposed to work alongside the man who found so much enjoyment out of your barely being able to walk two steps without a crutch last year? But yet I must if I want any opportunity at winning, trying at all to turn the tide before the title match this Sunday. When it was the 4 on 3 matches, I could ignore him somewhat, focus on everything else going on in the ring, but now it's just he and I, and we have to try to depend on each other."
Ricardo releases a breath as if he had been the one holding all of this in and he shifts, wrapping his arms around Alberto in a tight hug. "El Patron, I understand. Do you realize how many people I've had to interview who have done things to offend or injure you over the years? I've even interviewed Swagger and Colter." Alberto tenses against him and the younger man closes his eyes, knowing what he must be thinking about that. "But I am protected by being an interviewer, if he touches me, I have an easy lawsuit, so there isn't anything to worry about there. I want you to think about yourself this time," he tells him, finally pulling away. "You will have all of the opportunities you need to make them all pay this Sunday- Reigns, Sheamus, Cena, Orton, Kane, Bray, Cesaro... anyone and everyone that you want. But tonight, as you said, winning this match is crucial. But you already knew that." He grins slightly as Alberto huffs out a laugh, tapping him on the jaw. "Ignore the past for this match, El Patron. You protected me that night to the best of your ability, you avenged me against Cesaro's disrespect, and now I'm telling you to focus on your true opponents, win tonight. As soon as that bell rings, it's over. You'll be able to do whatever you want to him, but until then..."
"Focus, work with him. Then when the match is ours, I can make them all pay." Alberto watches, eyes gleaming thoughtfully, as Ricardo nods. "Gracias, mi amigo." He squeezes his wrists. So, when the match begins, he keeps Ricardo's words with him, keeping the emotions off of his face as he stares at Cesaro and Heyman, flashes of that night when Ricardo was writhing in pain, Cesaro's laughter echoing in Alberto's ears repeating in his mind... but he blinks, clings to the present, to what Ricardo wants for him, and sighs out a deep exhale. "Focus," he reminds himself. "Work with him." It becomes a mantra during the match, a dull buzz underneath everything else as RVD tries to splash on him, Alberto's quick thinking reversing him into an armbar position, tugging back ruthlessly on RVD's arm until he taps, Del Rio sneering when the man rolls away, gripping his arm in pain. It's not enough, never enough for how much pain he had added to Ricardo's already overwhelming burden when he'd left him months ago with no warning, but he supposes it'll do for now.
This now behind him, he makes it back into the ring after realizing Cesaro and Heyman are celebrating as though it's their victory and has the referee lift his arm in success as well, snapping at the other two men. The match is over, he has no need to pretend any longer, to brush away the memories. But, when words turn physical, he lunges for Cesaro and... the next thing he knows, he's coming to, dazed, blinking against the lights. His face throbs in pain, he feels a little dizzy. That did not end well, he realizes, flashes of memory from trying to attack Cesaro and failing, getting lifted up into position for the Neutralizer, returning to him. He fumbles backstage, shrugging referees away as he goes, not surprised to find Ricardo waiting for him once more, helping him yet again to the locker room.
He leans heavily on him, just wanting to feel some sort of warmth, a sense that not everything is wrong right now. Ricardo squeezes his midsection, glancing up at him worriedly. "Are you alright, El Patron? Come on, just a few more steps."
"I'm fine," he mutters. They walk on in silence, Ricardo just reaching out for the doorknob, when Alberto finds his hand and squeezes it. "Amigo, how about when we leave, we go find a crane game and you can prove your championship status... maybe you can win a plushie for Paige." He glances down, his lips twitching up into a grin as Ricardo flushes hotly. Nonetheless, he nods sheepishly and Alberto's fond grin grows as he hugs the younger man closer.