Sean groaned in pain, waking from a dream he could no longer recall. Rolling back onto his back, he tried to breathe steadily. He had turned onto his hurt arm in his sleep and it was flaring up now. Arching back against the bed, he looked around the dark motel room for Mark. He wasn't here. Forcing himself to sit up slowly, he reached for the nightstand with his good arm. Flipping the switch, he saw a note in Mark's handwriting and a small bottle of pills. Reading over the note first, he glanced at the clock. Either the clock was wrong... or Mark was running late. Picking up the pill bottle, he was about to start cursing about how he'd get the lid off... When the cap fell off. Sean smirked to himself. Mark had thought of everything. Shaking out two pills, he popped them into his mouth before grabbing the cup of water. He hated pills... but at least he knew Mark wouldn't let him have these without good reason. Choking the large pills down, he flexed his fingers waiting for them to kick in.

After a brief visit to the restroom, the pills kicked in, making him feel suddenly light-headed. Laying back down quickly on the bed, he hit the remote for the TV. Yanking the remote out from under his leg, he just took a minute to stare at the awful stained ceiling. The side effects to these pills was a list long... but the top one was fatigue. The pills at least took away the pain in his arm. Didn't remove how badly he wanted to itch his arm though. He was thinking about drifting off again, when he heard someone on the TV mention his name. Rolling up onto his good elbow, he took interest. Watching the news broke his heart. They were making fun of him... and not just him, but Mark as well. A censored image of Mark dancing at a club was brought up on screen and compared to his erotic cage dance. Sean watched the image of Mark, seeing how young he had looked then and wondered if Mark was seeing this. Linda and her co-anchor joked about whether Mark could tell the difference between Skating and Stripping.

Sean shook his head in disgust. It amazed him that people like this existed in the world. Spreading such hate and humiliation on a global scale. Wiping a tear that ran down his cheek, he watched as they panned on the fans that were simply disgusted by his actions. They let the disgusted fans talk for a good long time. However, when they panned to any of the fans that liked the routines... they cut them off short. Or they panned to overly lusty fans that liked the routine. It was all edited and cropped down to make him look as bad as possible. Despite knowing that... it still hurt. He tried to change the channel, but he couldn't bring himself too. The question burned in him too badly. How far would they go to hurt him? Laying back down, he buried his face into his pillow to cry as the TV tore into his soul. Quintin's interview was the most hurtful.

Unlike the endless cruel jokes, Quintin's words were meant to be cruel. "I bet he paid that kid off to step down, but it doesn't matter. He does that routine at Regionals... He'll be going home in a wheelchair. Not only will the fool hurt himself. But he will look like a fool doing it. The routine was so stiff... and not in a good way. If he calls that sex appeal. Rasputin will crush him. You can't teach an old dog new tricks... and from that performance... that dog needs to be put down." The motel door opened, but Sean didn't have the mental strength to even care who it was. He'd let any murder or thief do as they pleased. Nothing was worse than what he had heard. The lights flicked on seconds before something hit the TV to shut it off. Sean stared blankly across the room into the bathroom. He felt numb and couldn't tell if it was the pills or the news. Mark's warm voice filled the empty silence by sweetly telling him. "I tried to get back before you saw that... but I got caught up with preparations for the trip to Canada."

Sean's voice was cold and dead as he mumbled out. "I'm not going. I'm scratching out." Mark set down something that sounded like rustling bags. Sean sniffled softly, trying to keep his face hidden in the pillow. Mark moved closer, touching his ankle and sliding his hand very slowly up the curves of his leg. At his hip, Mark stopped moving to tell him in a deep loving voice. "Jack... Don't let them win." Sean felt more tears run down his face, when he mumbled out in a broken voice. "I don't care anymore..." Mark sat down on the bed, petting Sean's lower back, upon telling him seriously. "You do, or you wouldn't want out. Jack, don't let them bully you out of what you love." Sean buried his face in the pillow, mumbling out through tears. "I was a fool..." Mark huffed, telling him sweetly. "You've never been a fool. Stubborn and hard-headed, defiantly. But you had the courage to go out there and try."

Sean couldn't answer, he just cried into the pillow. Mark stayed close, soothing him as he told him. "The hardest part of failing... is dealing with the people that laugh at you for it. Sometimes their laughter will get so loud that you'll feel like you are drowning in it. You start to feel alone and isolated from the rest of the world. But I want you to listen to the only voice that matters..." Sean felt the mattress tilt and the warmth of Mark's body lay over him. Sean sniffled, feeling Mark's lips kiss his cheek before his deep buttery voice whispered into his ear lovingly. "I love you, Sean. I am proud of you. I am still here for you. I will always believe in you." Sean peeked up from the pillow to look into Mark's strong beautiful face. A small smile spread over Mark's face as he pressed his forehead to Sean's. Sean felt another tear roll down his cheek, but his tears were slowing down. Mark's deep voice seemed to surround him, when he honestly told him. "I'm not giving up and I don't want you to either. Don't let anyone make you believe that you are not good enough. They are simply shedding off reasons why THEY aren't good enough."

Sean lowered his eyes in doubt. He wanted to believe his words, but his heart didn't feel it. Mark cupped his face, telling him with more genuine authority in his voice. "Don't feed them with your fears. Show them your wraith. When they kick you down, you get back up! You prove to them that strength isn't in the victory of a fight... but in the will to never give up as they continuously beat you down! So, we lost... So, the routine needs a little work. We'll get better. We won't give up." Sean could almost feel Mark's strength pouring into him. Filling him with desire to try again. Mark brought his lips over his, whispering in a softer hopeful voice. "Don't give up on me, Sean. I know we can still do this." Sean tilted his head enough to press his lips to Mark's in a tender kiss. Sean then rolled onto his back, reaching up to wrap his good hand around the back of Mark's neck. Mark shifted only slightly to deepen their kiss. The kiss was only minutes long, but it felt like hours before Mark pulled away slowly.

Staring down into his eyes, Mark told him with a loving grin. "Still want to scratch?" Sean stroked his fingers along Mark's neck, purring out softly. "No. You changed my mind. I'm not done yet. I've still got some fight left." Mark kissed his forehead, chuckling out proudly. "That's my boy. I'll pack your stuff." Mark rose off the bed and Sean couldn't help asking him curiously. "Mark... on the news. They showed you dancing in the club... You leaked that out, didn't you?" Mark set his travel bag on the bed, asking him neutrally. "Why would you say that?" Sean looked him over closely, stating out gently. "The video was too still. It wasn't recorded by anyone holding the camera. You were so young... An audition tape? Why did you do it?" Mark let out a heavy sigh, before saying seriously. "I did it for you. Everything they were saying about you... You wouldn't have done them if not for me. Leaking that video was me leveling the playing field. You crash and burn... and I want everyone to know that I went down with you. We are in this together."

Sean shook his head in slight disbelief, mumbling out. "You didn't have to do that." Mark started packing, answering seriously. "But I did it anyway. There is nothing they can say about me that I haven't already heard. To get to you, they've got to go through my tough hide first." Sean chuckled softly, feeling thankful for Mark in so many ways. Mark continued to pack, telling him sweetly. "Get some sleep. We've got a long flight ahead of us. And lots to work on." Sean nodded, closing his eyes to give in to more sleep. By morning, Mark gave him coffee that he had bought the day before. Zapping it in the microwave to heat it back up, Sean sipped it as Mark loaded up their stuff. Stacy's dad and crew had taken an earlier flight to get things set up ahead of time. Leaving Stacy to join them on the long flight to Canada. Sitting on the inside by the window, he listened to his routine music in one earbud. Beside him in the two other seats, Mark and Stacy were huddled over a seat tray discussing the routines.

Sean was barely listening to them discuss changes to the routines. Part of him was just too tired to pay attention. His pills made not being tired difficult. They understood that though and asked him as little questions as possible. It was funny watching them scribble things on paper, only to have the other erase it and complain. As hours passed, they went from talking about routines to talking about costume design. Bits about props. They never slept, but he napped on and off. By the time the plane landed, Sean was eager to get out and stretch. The seats were just so small and uncomfortable. Getting off the plane though, reporters swarmed them. Cameras flashed in rippling waves as they asked him questions that were inaudible from another. Mark and Stacy shot the reporters dark looks, but Sean just held his head high and started walking. They surrounded him to get answers, but Sean didn't say anything to them. He was done giving them fuel for their fire.

The reporters were starting to shove each other and tunnel him into a corner, when a familiar voice shouted out. "Well, there goes the neighborhood..." The reporters stopped harassing Sean, turning to see Felix standing with his arms crossed in the hallway. Felix pushed his golden 'Bitch' sunglasses up on his head, winking at Sean as he chuckled out. "How are you doing, old friend?" Sean breathed a sigh of relief; he had never been so relieved to see Felix in his life. Felix waved the reporters out of his way and they quickly parted to let him through. Felix grinned, opening his arms out in a warm gesture as he awkwardly admitted. "I'd hug you... but will that hurt you?" Sean extended a hand out playfully, causing Felix to cringe as he muttered out. "No... Not happening. I'm not shaking your hand, man. You know how I feel about that." Sean grinned warmly, telling him. "It's fine. Just do it." Felix rolled his eyes, starting to reach for his hand to shake it.

Seconds before his hand touched his, Sean started avoiding his hand to make it awkward. Felix jumped back with playful frustration, snapping out. "Damn you, you fucking Irish son of a bitch! I knew you'd do it!" Sean laughed, noticing that some of the reporters didn't get it. Anyone that knew Felix knew that he had a phobia of bad hand shakes. Mark cut through the awkward tension by stepping in to grab Felix's hand. Shaking his hand normally, Mark told him happily. "I'm glad you could pick us up. It's been too long. Are you going to the ISU Banquet?" Felix nodded, pulling Mark in for a half-hug as he replied. "No, shit it has. Of course, I am. Wouldn't miss it. What's this I hear about you two getting married though? And more importantly... Why wasn't I given an invitation?" Mark patted Felix's back, leading him down the hall as he told him. "We haven't sent out any. We're waiting until after all this chaos is over with." Felix's eyes narrowed on them with slight mistrust. Stacy giggled, keeping Sean close to her. The reporters had fallen back a bit to give them some breathing room, but they were no doubt hanging onto their every word. To Be Continued...