Ricardo stares at the TV as Raw inches on. It's not holding his interest too much, his thoughts on the whole situation with Alberto and Paige coming to a head. It's not easy finding out real news while on the outskirts, but the online rumormill has some of it right, he thinks. One or both of them are leaving the company with Paige maybe returning to WAW. The thought leaves him ill and relieved that he's leaving England soon to return to the States.

He's attention is peaked when he hears Alicia's name on TV, watching as Nia Jax beats down this blonde woman with little to no trouble. He grimaces for Alicia's friend but shrugs, aware that there's only so much that can be done against a woman of Nia's stature. Once the show goes to commercial, Ricardo's mind drifts once more as he considers everything that is going on and has been happening. It's all so ridiculous that his head hurts and he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning back. He's tired and frustrated and his booked dates over here are coming to an end as they prepare for him to leave, which means he has more time to think and less distractions.

He wakes up when he hears Alicia's voice, watching as she confronts Nia and yells, throwing things at her for hurting her friend and being so smug about it after the fact. He fears for her, watching the expression on Nia's face and growing more and more concerned until things come to a head and Nia pushes Alicia bodily onto the table, leaving her laying with a shocked expression on her face. "Damn," he breathes out.

After Raw ends, he calls her. "Are you ok?" he demands as soon as she answers the phone.

"Yeah," she sighs. "I'm stronger than that." She hesitates. "I think I'm going to have to see this though, Ricardo."

He closes his eyes, exhales sharply. "Alicia... don't get hurt, please."

"I'll try not to, but she hurt my friend. You know what that's like, how you want to protect them, defend them. I gotta have my girl's back."

Ricardo's breath seizes in his chest as he weighs her words. How he had always been so determined to keep Alberto healthy, successful and happy, taking everything from Brogue Kicks to ankle locks and everything in between for him. "Yes, I do," he admits quietly.

A few days later he's packing, slowly, preparing for his return home, when his phone goes off. He looks up and brushes his long hair out of his eyes before stumbling over to it, tripping over this and that scattered along the floor. "Hola?" he asks briskly.

"Mi hermano," Alberto greets him quietly, sounding almost surprised. "I, um. Didn't expect you to answer."

"I didn't see the ID," Ricardo says, frozen in his own kind of shock. "What... why are you calling me?"

"I need your advice," Alberto says. "I am officially gone from WWE and I wish to announce it in a press conference in Mexico but I need your opinion on my speech. May I read it to you?"

Ricardo closes his eyes, unable to deny Alberto even this. He had helped him after he'd been fired the first time, remembering all too well the awful state of mind Alberto had been in at the time. "Very well," he says wearily, listening as Alberto reads it off, explaining about his plans to retire and why, determined to spend more time competing with his family before he retires in a couple of years. "It sounds fine."

"I am heading to WAW to wrestle the UK Hooligans with Memo," Alberto says lowly. "But I believe you will be gone by then."

"Too bad," Ricardo says dryly, not sure what to say or think. At least he is not asking to team with me before I leave. "I'm glad you have Memo during this time."

"He is my brother," Alberto says softly. "But he isn't the brother I miss or need right now. Por favor, Ricardo..."

Ricard groans, wanting nothing more than to hang up, get on with his day, but the words hurt, the memories leave him aching and desperate and he finally whispers, "I miss you too." A fresh, sharp pain of terror shoots through his veins once more and he finds himself pressing the end button before Alberto can think of a response. Ricardo groans, burying his face in his hands and trying not to lose it all over again.