It's clear when the locker room goes dark, the superstars scattered around all exclaiming in various emotions when it happens, as most are still new to what the Wyatt family brings to the table. Wade Barrett sits and stares ahead blankly, his arms crossed over his chest as the faint glow of the monitor, the only light remaining backstage currently, shows what's happening in the ring, Heath Slater vs Justin Gabriel coming to a sudden stop as they watch on, perturbed and frozen in fear, when the three men approach, Bray Wyatt sitting passively in the rocking chair, watching on with a maddening little smirk while the other two enter the ring. He almost laughs when Slater, thinking quickly for once, grabs Gabriel and throws him in their path, taking the diversion to make a quick getaway.

But it doesn't work, he runs right into Bray, frozen on the ramp as his fellow 3MB members and Justin get beat down by the other two members of the Wyatt family. He turns in a circle, realizing sharply that he's caught by Bray one way, and Luke Harper and Erick Rowan the other. Before he can even take a step, Bray signals the other two and they're on him, dragging him into the ring. Barrett watches on with a dark gaze as he's set up for that bizarre move called Sister Abigail, rolling his eyes when Bray kisses the ginger on top of the head before laying him out with the move. "Bullocks," he mumbles, listening to the other superstars in the locker room, now calmer with the lights back on, begin murmuring about the Wyatt family.

As Bray talks into the camera, Barrett makes it to his feet and heads for the titantron, lurking around in the quietly subdued gorilla position until the three men leave, Rowan dragging the rocking chair behind him. None of them seem that interested in the people around them, Bray's smirk still on his face trapped in Wade's memory for long afterwards. He's still standing there when a group of referees appear, helping the members of 3MB and Gabriel back. "Got him," he snaps at a referee, relieving him of the stumbling, groggy ginger and wrapping his arm around his shoulders, standing awkwardly to help him back to the trainer's office for the standard post-match check up.

Heath breathes harshly, eyes fluttering, before glancing up at him. "Brit?"

"Yes?" he grits out, dragging him into the office before easing him down onto a couch to wait to be looked at with the other victims of the Wyatt family. "What is it?"

"I always knew rockin' chairs were evil," he breathes out, blinking sluggishly. As Wade frowns down at him, he releases a faint sigh.

Wade glances over at McIntyre and Mahal before sitting down next to Heath on the couch. "Yeah, well. It's gone now, so don't worry. You're fine till the next time someone decides to target you."

"So... five minutes?" he asks tiredly, staring glumly down at his hands.

"Ten at most." Wade smirks when he looks up, flushing in some anger before he registers the teasing glint in the Brit's eye.

"Hahaha," he intones dully, rolling his eyes at him. "Very funny, Brit."

It takes awhile for the trainer to make his way around the room, carefully examining Jinder, Drew and Justin, since they'd taken the most damage from the Wyatt family, before turning his attention to Heath. Outside of a headache and general soreness, he seems to be ok, so the trainer gives him some ibuprofen and sends him on his way with the rest.

Justin wanders off who knows where, Wade slowly following the other 3MB members to the parking lot. Since sharing rooms on this tour, the four men had reluctantly agreed to share one rental car as well, so Barrett slips into the driver's seat, Heath calling shotgun to the other two's nonstop grumbling. "Shut up and get in," the impatient Brit demands, not wanting to hang around for any longer and risk the Wyatts coming back, or something equally as ridiculous.

"Ah, we're comin', chill out," Drew snaps back at him before following Jinder into the backseat, Heath struggling not to chuckle as Wade glowers at the two in the rear view mirror. When his heated stare turns towards the ginger, Heath quiets and looks ahead innocently.

"Gits," he mumbles, beginning to drive to the hotel. Thankfully the other three men are all beat up enough that none make moves to fiddle with the radio, or begin one of their obnoxious karaoke sessions, so it's a relatively quiet trip, even with Heath faintly drumming his fingers on the dashboard in time with the song just audible over the air conditioning. Once he pulls to a stop at the hotel, 3MB get out of his car with little incident and he leaves them to go inside while he looks for a parking spot. Once done, he wanders into the lobby to find Heath leaning against the wall by the elevator, waiting for him. "What are you doing, Slater?" he demands, joining him. "There was no need to wait, you could've gone up on your own."

Heath makes a face, not answering him until they're inside the elevator, the doors closed behind him. "Yeah, well, didn't wanna." His eyes flicker around the elevator and Wade frowns, his suspicions growing as the orange haired man leans against the back wall, trying to look calm and collected but failing.

"Where'd the other two go?"

"Didn't feel like hangin' out, so they went to their room to get some sleep." Heath looks like he could use a good solid eight hours himself, though considering the flight to Florida is just shy of being red eye, he'll be lucky to get five, and that's if he can get over what's gotten him all jittery and anxious enough to relax.

"I see." He's secretly thankful for that, not wanting the other two around to add to Heath's already skyrocketing blood pressure- or his own, for that matter. "Bet you're looking forward to some rest yourself."

"No kiddin'," he smiles wanly, eyes brightening when the elevator finally stops and lets them out, the two men walking side by side down the hall to their room. "Home sweet home. For the next six hours or so." He sighs as Wade unlocks the door, pausing in the hallway as he stares into the dark, shadowy interior.

"Problem?" The Brit asks, though he thinks he already knows, ducking past Heath and flicking a light on, showing that the room is ordinary- safe. "Are you coming in, or sleeping in the hall tonight?"

Heath sneers at him before venturing inside, dropping his things on the floor at the end of his bed. As Wade goes for the bathroom, he doesn't quite miss the other man sitting down on the bed and glancing around uncertainly. "Lovely," he mumbles, shutting the door behind him decisively. "It's going to be a long night." And despite himself, as he begins to prepare for another insomnia-laced night of sleep, he finds he can't blame Heath for being a bit freaked out as he recalls the Wyatt Family's actions, shuddering.

The whole locker room had fallen subdued and quiet when the lights had all died, Wade's lips held pale and tight upon realizing where the Wyatt's focus was going to fall. Heath had tried to get away, yes, but in the end, it hadn't been enough as Bray had cornered him, the other family members amusing themselves by piling the other two and Justin up with Heath after beating them all down in the middle of the ring. It had been eerie to watch, he couldn't imagine actually living it.

Wade shakes his head, flicking the light on and leaning against the door. "Bullocks." After a quick shower and change of clothes, Wade heads back out to the main room and has opened his mouth to speak when he catches himself just in time, staring. His former Corre mate is currently sprawled out on the second bed, hand resting on his chest as he sleeps on peacefully.

His lips twitch slightly before he turns away, flicking off the lamp and finishing preparing for bed in the soft glow of the outside lights gleaming through the windows. He never sleeps well, always too keyed up after events, or even just too sore to get comfortable on any given night, his body content to protest the last ten-plus years of action and pain he'd put it through.

Tonight, he finds himself relieved for this fact, however, when he is staring at the ceiling, counting mysterious stains in the paint, when he hears a faint groan from Heath's bed, looking over to find that the younger man had rolled over in his sleep, a hand gripping his pillow in distress. Wade's eyes narrow as he watches him but his fingers relax, his breathing still soft and regular so he goes back to counting aimlessly when, not even five minutes later, Heath murmurs in his sleep, Barrett immediately turning to look at him again, warring between annoyance and worry, still unsettled as well from the evening's events. He refuses to even imagine how it'd feel to be an actual target of those creepy hillbillies.

But Heath quiets again so Wade returns to his scrutiny of the ceiling, though he's unable to fully focus, now trapped listening for Heath's next possible bit of distress... and when it comes, he's glad that he'd been so observant because it's much more intense than the previous couple.

Heath's never been a quiet sleeper, Wade's grown used to it by now, but he's also never been one for nightmares, so when he starts to toss and turn, his murmurs broken up by what sounds suspiciously like muffled begging, while still hanging half off of the bed, Wade is by his side in a moment, shaking him briskly. "Slater," he snaps when that doesn't work either, using his old commanding Nexus voice to snap the man out of his deep sleep and the grips of whatever nightmare has ahold of him.

This, of course, works, Heath sitting up with a strained gasp as he struggles to regain awareness of his surroundings. "Uh..." he whispers, wiping sleep out of his eyes. "Wade? What?"

Barrett rolls his eyes, not given the time to think up a good excuse on why exactly he'd woke Heath up without seeming weak. "You were making too much noise, I couldn't hear myself think," he finally spits out, rolling his eyes.

"Right," Heath frowns, remembering distinct parts of his nightmare. "Ugh... well, either way. Thanks for wakin' me up."

Wade stares at him, unable to completely drop it. "The Wyatts, eh?" Heath blinks and his former leader smirks. "That would do it to almost anyone, I suppose. Not myself, of course, but someone like you."

Heath rolls his eyes this time, kicking off his shoes and jeans before moving into a more comfortable position on the bed, rolling over to face Wade as he returns to his own bed. "Of course," he drawls sarcastically, still sounding sleepy. "The mighty Wade Barrett never gets afraid."

Wade says nothing in response to this, watching as Heath's eyes flutter shut almost immediately. His sleep seems much calmer now, but still the Brit remains, counting his soft breaths now instead of the questionable stains on the ceiling as the rest of the night passes peacefully on under his protective gaze.