Going to Smackdown that week is weird. It's quiet, almost peaceful even. The locker room, hallways and even Wade's hotel room shares this in common. He sits on a bench and stares ahead, wrestling gear limp in his hands as a startling realization comes to him.

He bloody well hates it. It's quiet and he's trapped in his own thoughts, the standard heavily accented Southern drawl missing from his internal monologue. Groaning, he tosses his knee pads back into his bag and stands up, scraping his fingers through his dark hair before pacing around the room. It doesn't help that his insomnia is also worse, his bed cold and empty, no cascade of warm orange hair on his shoulder when he's struggling to sleep even for an hour.

He does his job, however, declaring the bad news of the night to all of the peasants at that night's Smackdown. Except that, while he struggles to remain on point with his promo, the vitriol he's feeling towards everyone and everything right now making this a bit easier, all he can think is that the only real bad news in the world right now is that Heath is still touring Saudi Arabia, leaving him here, alone, to handle all of this nonsense on his own.

Finally feeling appeased by the crowd's displeasure with him and his statement, he leaves the stage and grabs his things, heading for the car. He grimaces and taps his fingers against the steering wheel, reaching over and turning on the radio, flipping around until he finds the annoying rock music that Heath usually listens to. It's not the same without Heath's awful singing next to him, but it drowns out some of the silence, at least.

Arriving at the hotel is something of a relief, Wade sinking into the mattress and staring at the ceiling. He rolls over and turns on the radio, relieved that the station he'd been listening to in the car is still audible. Folding his arms over his chest, he stares up at the ceiling and counts the tiles, trying to relax enough to sleep. He's about to give up and smother himself in his pillows when his cell phone goes off, the ringtone making his eyes light up. Lunging for it, he quiets the 3 Man Band theme by jabbing the answer button. "Hello?"

"Hey, Brit," Heath greets him, his voice a balm on the other man's loneliness. "Saw on Twitter Smackdown's just ended, so figured I'd check in before things really got movin' here."

Wade hesitates, seeing no need to make Heath feel guilty while there's nothing either of them can do about it just yet. "It's going alright," he lies.

"Uh huh," Heath drawls slowly. They sit for a few moments, listening to each other breathe, before Heath chuckles. "Is that one'a my music stations on the radio in the background?

"What!? No," Wade exclaims, scrambling to shut the radio off- but he hits the wrong button and turns it up instead. Heath's laughter overwhelms the music as he slaps at it until it shuts up.

"It so was!" he crows. "Aw, Brit, do you miss me that much that you're listenin' to my music?"

"No, I was trying to find a station that's playing real music," he grouses. "I was in the middle of it when my phone rang."

Heath chuckles softly, falling quiet. "I miss you too, Brit," he finally says quietly. "But I'll be home soon."

Wade releases a breath, too tired to keep the charade going as he slumps back against his pillows. "Not soon enough," he admits quietly.

"I can stay on the phone a bit longer, see if we can get you to sleep without that insomnia rearin' its nasty head again. How's that sound?"

Wade wants to ask how he knows, but it's clear. Heath's been with him long enough to be able to read his moods, even through the phone and with thousands of miles between them. "It sounds bloody better than listening to that music for hours."

Heath's laugh is sharp and a little impatient but he begins to talk anyway, telling Wade about his matches, the sightseeing he's been able to do here and there, the people he's met. The hotel room they're in, anything he can think of until he hears Wade's breathing growing deep and regularly. "Ni-Night, Brit," he whispers softly before hanging up with a smile on his face, now beyond eager to finish this tour and go home.