"I handed the bloody thing over to them already," Wade snaps into the phone, sprawled out on the bed and ignoring Boodah's fussing from the floor. "Now they expect me to be a part of some asinine ceremony at this bloody battle royal, awarding my belt to the so-called winner, because I haven't been humiliated enough..."
Heath stares up at the ceiling of the hotel he's in, wishing he was back at the apartment to try to make this better for him in person. "I know, it sucks," he says quietly. "But hell, who knows, maybe a miracle'll happen and it's me you're awardin' it to... that'd be better than some other options, yeah?" He speaks hesitantly, as if expecting an elbow to the face- or more than likely, a kick to the jaw, once they're both in the same room once more.
"I suppose," he mumbles, but there's no venom in his voice so Heath relaxes a little. "At least I have some reason to watch this bloody waste of time match."
Heath's lips twitch up into a smile before he shifts over, hugging his pillow and staring out of the window at the world racing by outside. "S'pose so," he agrees softly, settling in to maybe get some sleep should Wade be able to relax soon. He'd just gotten back from Smackdown, relieved to have a few hours to sleep before needing to travel on for the next event, but it'd been clear Wade needed him, so. Here they are. "I'll try to make you proud."
He assumes Wade hasn't remembered making him promise to eliminate Cesaro, which is a relief, but he keeps it in the back of his mind, hoping that maybe he could do something along those lines to cheer Wade up. The thought of Wade being backstage, watching Heath in this match in person, raises the hairs on the back of Heath's neck. Knowing he's watching on TV from Florida is one thing, but to actually be there...
"I know you will," Wade says quietly. "Honestly, ginger, the fact that you've never given up, no matter how badly things have gotten... You do make me proud, alright?" His chuckle is mirthless and leaves Heath feeling sad. "While I'm sitting here injured time and again, you make the most of the time you're given. It might not be a lot, but it's still impressive the things you do with the few opportunities management gives you. Don't forget that, alright? No matter what anyone else thinks, I respect you."
Heath hasn't heard those words from anyone in a long damn time, and it almost feels like a punch to the solar plexus, but in all the right ways. "Thanks, Brit," he breathes out, tears beading in his dark eyes. "I really wish I was with you right now."
"I wish you were too," Wade sighs. "But soon, yes? I'll see you soon."
"Definitely. After Raw, I'll be home for a few days." Heath hesitates, hating having to say this. "But for now, I think we gotta get some sleep, y'know? And by we, I mean you too. No layin' awake, starin' at the ceiling. Close your eyes, and if you can't sleep, then text me."
"I will," Wade sighs, smiling a little at Heath's protectiveness. "Good night, ginger."
"G'night, Brit." Heath hangs up and waits, but after nearly half an hour's passed without a text, he finally gives in and closes his eyes, immediately dropping into sleep.
States away, Wade lays on his good side, finally falling asleep himself after staring at a picture Heath had taken of the both of them with his title belt held on his shoulder. I'll get it back, one way or another, is his last thought for the night.