"You ready?" Dolph wonders, half asleep as he squints against the bright glow of his phone. It's early Monday and the three weeks that Zack had had to spend sitting around, bored, restless and anxious, had finally passed. He could begin rehab, carefully, to see how his arm was doing, if it was beginning to heal at all. Dolph wishes he was there but Zack would be with his parents, the doctors would take good care of him. It's what he keeps telling himself, at any rate.

Zack doesn't answer for a few moments, and when he does, his voice is soft. "I think so." Dolph's about to say something else when he speaks again, "I'm scared. What if... what if this doesn't work? What if..."

Dolph releases a breath, trying not to let himself get swept away by the same fears and doubts. "Kid, it will. You've been through too much to lose more time because of that damn Rusev. No matter what, I'll be here for you, helping you through it as best as I can."

"I wish you were here today," he murmurs.

"I wish I was too, kid. But I promise, first thing in the morning, I'll be right there, taking you to your second rehab appointment. Just... listen to the specialist and take care of yourself, alright? I'll call you later on, see how everything goes."

"Alright," Zack sighs. "Talk to you then. Bye, bro."

"Bye, kid. I love you."

"Love you too," Zack responds before the phone clicks.

Dolph sighs and drops back against the pillows for a moment before deciding to get up and start his day, hoping that the sooner he gets out of bed, the sooner he'll be on a plane heading back to New York.

Somehow this works, the day passes fast enough, and he's relieved to book a flight early in the morning back to New York. After a rough, lonely night where he hadn't even heard Zack's voice because he'd fallen asleep after a stenuous first rehab appointment, Dolph gets up and packs, eager to head for the airport. The flight isn't awful, Dolph finds ways to keep himself occupied and not too jittery, but when he lands, it's to tweets by both Zack declaring that as soon as he's healthy again, he'd be reaching for that brass ring again... and Curt Hawkins' deadpan response that he hopes not.

The taxi ride to Zack's apartment feels even longer than the flight, somehow, with Dolph spending the entire time stewing over the twitter exchange. He huffs and runs his fingers through his hair while they're stuck in traffic, listening to the taxi driver's inane chatter. Finally he sees Zack's complex and all but leaps out of the car once it's finally stopped, handing over a $100- tip so generous that Dolph catches a glimpse of the driver ogling at him in amazement before he all but runs up the stairs, into the front lobby. A few more minutes and he's at Zack's door, unlocking it and sighing, leaning against the door to catch his breath.

When he looks up, he finds Zack staring at him from the doorway to the kitchen, half smiling. "Something on fire, bro?"

Dolph grunts and immediately pushes away, walking up to him. Cupping his face, he draws him in and kisses him. "Ignore Hawkins," he mumbles. "He's just bitter you're still in WWE and he's not. If it's something you want to do, you go for it, kid." Rubbing his nose against Zack's, he smiles at him. "I'll support you no matter what."

"Thanks, bro," Zack says, teeth flashing as he grins, running the fingers of his good hand up through Dolph's hair. "I'm glad you're back."

"I'm glad I am too." Dolph loops an arm carefully around Zack's shoulders and leads him into the living room. "So, tell me all about your rehab session yesterday..."