A/N: I was out of town for a couple of days and then fell asleep before I could post, so this is a bit late but here we go. It's an OYE fic posted out of order, I have some unfinished works to bridge where we left off with OYE to post-August that I will be finishing shortly and uploading for 31 Days of Fic, but this is from the night before Summerslam. Enjoy.

Ricardo Rodriguez first hears the news late Saturday night, a couple divas passing by, giggling. "Did you see his face?" that new girl, Eva Marie, says, garish red hair sending Ricardo's eyes straight towards her before he looks away, a bit dazed.

"I'm sure Alberto deserved it," Nikki Bella chortles. "Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy."

"Yeah, I wonder what he did to deserve it though,. He's going to have a nice shiner for the PPV tomorrow," Eva Marie giggles again as she shuts the door decisively behind them, neither of them aware as Ricardo continues to gape after them, confused.

"Que?" Still mumbling to himself in Spanish, he pats his pockets in distress and foregoes returning to his own room, walking straight into a waiting elevator instead. It stops a few moments later on the fifth floor and Ricardo quickly walks down the hall to where Alberto had been booked, using the keycard he'd stored in his pocket when the lady behind the counter had told him Alberto had left it for him at his own check in. Ricardo's never been more glad for this arrangement of theirs than right now as he quietly unlocks the door and enters, shutting it quickly behind him. He swallows and looks around, unsurprised to find the room dark and quiet but the bathroom light on, gleaming under a crack in the bottom of the door.

He takes a breath and walks over, quietly knocking before pushing it in slowly. His breath is taken from him as he looks into the room and finds Alberto sitting on the closed toilet, his face held in his hands. Heart skipping a beat or two, Ricardo ventures over to him. "El Patron?

"Ricardo," he says through his fingers. Ricardo immediately kneels down in front of him, trying to grip his hands and pry them away. "No," Del Rio mutters. "Don't-"

"El Patron, I want to make you feel better, and I can't do that if your hands are in the way," he says soothingly. "Come now..." Finally Alberto hesitantly moves his hands away and Ricardo releases a soft breath, tilting his face so he can look at his bruises a little clearer in the light. "Ay dios mio," he says softly, face falling as he strokes around the growing discoloration around the older man's eyes. "What happened?"

"Peasants," he spits angrily. "They-" he winces as Ricardo grazes the worst of the wounds with his fingers, immediately pulling away on a whispered apology. "They apparently didn't appreciate my wealth and..." He hisses, each word causing his face to hurt all the more. "Status." He stares at Ricardo as he slowly moves away and looks for the hotel bucket, missing his own much sturdier bucket which had been bent and destroyed to symbolize the ending of their working relationship on August 5th.

"I'll be right back," he whispers, hating having to leave as Alberto looks so uncharacteristically vulnerable, but knowing that he needs ice badly. Unfortunately, the ice machine is on the opposite side of their floor so he's gone much longer than he likes, but Alberto hasn't moved when he returns so he quietly makes an ice pack and gently helps his former employer to bed before resting it on the worst of his bruises. "Are there any other injuries?" he wonders anxiously, moving to lift his former employer's shirt up to look.

Alberto stops him, however, smiling wanly. "No," he murmurs, hissing as the ice shifts against his throbbing jaw. "McIntyre ran them off before they could do much else."

"I'm glad he was there," Ricardo says, subdued at the thought of Alberto needing saved from anyone, how bad this all could've gone.

"Me too," Alberto hums tiredly, adjusting the ice with one hand and reaching for Ricardo with the other.

The ring announcer sandwiches his hand between both of his own and releases a hissing sigh, feeling more and more guilty the longer he stares at Alberto's face. "I wish I had-"

"No," Alberto immediately interrupts him. "I'm glad you were not, Ricardo. At least when I am the one targetting you, I can withhold a bit, these men..." He shakes his head. "I've already told you, I never want to see you hurt again."

Ricardo takes a breath. "But, El Patron, it hurts me when you're hurt."

Del Rio's eyes soften and he pulls Ricardo onto the bed, smiling when the younger man carefully curls up against him and rests his hand on his chest. "Ay, perhaps it'll help you to know, then, that I feel better already, now," he murmurs, kissing the top of Ricardo's head.

He smiles slightly and hums, trailing his hand in soothing circles against Alberto's warm skin. "I'm glad," he whispers as Alberto tilts his face up with a gentle hand and kisses his lips, the ice shifting between them and causing both men to shiver, chuckles following this as they lean against each other, Ricardo fussing with the ice pack to keep it in place, both relieved to be together once more, even if it's just for a short time.