Everyone thought that Link Larkin led a charmed life due to being one of the lead dancers on the Corny Collins show and being known to be dating Amber Von Tussle, the daughter of the station manager.

The truth of the matter was that Link had been pushed into his success by an ambitious father. Link Larkin, Sr. was not a man to be crossed. So, when he advised his son to be the best, Link Jr. didn't want to disappoint. If he was anything less than perfect in his father's eyes, he would suffer from his father's wrath, the result of which wasn't a pretty sight.

That was why Link Larkin was now terrified of seeing Tracy Turnblad again. Sure, he could make jokes and laugh off his dad's treatment to her. But the truth was about to be revealed, for he had substantial proof of his dad's abuse imprinted on his face, chest, and back.

To complicate things further, Tracy incited feelings in him that he'd never before experienced. All his life had been spent preparing to fill his father's shoes. When he was with Tracy, though, he forgot everything else, for he was just Link to her.

A kind and gentle voice interrupted his musings. "Link, honey, you gonna be alright?"

"Yes, Miss Maybelle," said Link, granting her a sliver of a smile.

He watched Miss Maybelle's eyes rake over his injured body before settling on something over his shoulder. He turned around and came face-to-face with Tracy Turnblad.

"Link!" she exclaimed, startled.

"Hi," he replied sheepishly, shuffling his feet slightly.

"What happened to your face?" she asked, having forgotten her previous anger in the wake of his pain.

"I ran into a door," he said, hoping she would buy the lie, but knowing she was smarter than that.

"Do you think I was born yesterday, Link Larkin? Now, tell me the truth!"

"I told my dad I was going to join you in the march for equal rights and…," Link admitted as he made a vague gesture towards his face.

"Your dad did that to you?" Tracy was stunned. She approached Link warily, as though he were a frightened horse, and raised a tentative hand to stroke the bruised flesh surrounding his eye.

Link leaned further in to her tender touch, relishing the feelings that it invoked in him.

"Trace," he murmured softly, "I'm sorry for abandoning you, however temporary it may have been, and for unintentionally insulting you. I didn't mean it. And I didn't mean what I said about valuing my career more than what's right."

"Shh, Link, I know," Tracy said quietly, having moved closer until she had her arms wrapped carefully around him, unsure of what else his father had done to him and thus afraid of hurting Link further.

Link heaved a tremendous sigh of relief, as though an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thank you," he whispered gratefully.

"Anytime," she replied with a playful smile, hoping for more opportunities to talk with Link and get to know the person behind the star-persona, despite the current circumstances.

As though some invisible force were guiding them, they simultaneously pulled back, only to lean forward again.

Their almost-kiss was interrupted, however, by Seaweed informing them that it was time to go.

"We'll talk later," Tracy assured Link.

In response, he smiled back and squeezed her hand.


They'd been walking for hours, hands joined in solidarity, with only Maybelle's voice to guide them through the darkness.

Though focused on the cause she dearly believed in, her hand in Link's was a distraction, though a welcome one.

Suddenly, there was a disruption from the back of the group, and Edna Turnblad appeared beside Tracy, jostling her and Link.

"Good evening, Ms. Turnblad," said Maybelle, as though everyone were merely out for a pleasant stroll at night, rather than defending their rights to equality.

"Tracy, you have to come home," pleaded Edna. "These are lovely people, but—"

"Mrs. Turnblad," said Link, politely interrupting, "I may be crossing a line here and concerning myself in something that isn't any of my business…but it seems to me that Tracy has been raised to fight for what she believes in. She's strong in her convictions, and I admire her for that. I intend to stand by her, and it seems to me that, as her mother, you should be more encouraging."

Edna could only stare in shock at the brash young man who dared to contradict her.

"Link, it's alright," said Tracy quietly. "Mom, I know you think that this isn't my fight. But these are my friends, and that makes me involved. I can't sit idly by and watch them be denied the same rights as me. I'm sorry, but I'm not going home. I'm seeing this through to the end."

Tracy's head snapped forward as a squad of policemen lining the street outside of the WYZT building came into view. She felt a reassuring squeeze and looked down to see Link having re-joined his hand with hers.

I'm here, his eyes seemed to tell her, and that gave her courage for what was to come.

To those who knew Tracy, it was no surprise when she tapped the cop with her sign to get him to pay attention to Maybelle. What no one could have predicted, though, was that his response would be to take her and everyone else in.

"TRACE, RUN!" ordered Link, moving to shield her as best he could.

"No, Link, go with her," countered Edna, boldly stepping in front of the two teens.

Tracy shot her mother one last desperate glance before being pulled away by Link.


They ran as if the Devil himself were on their heels, darting through various alleys and side streets in hopes of losing anyone that might have been following.

Tracy, despite being a fantastic dancer, was less athletic than Link, and was forced to slow down eventually, catching her breath by leaning against a brick wall.

She looked over at Link, who was bent over with his head between his knees, and started to laugh hysterically.

"What's so funny?" panted Link.

"You…me…we've been running for our lives and no one's even chasing us!"

Link's laugh soon joined hers, and he found himself with his arms on either side of Tracy's head, leaning on the wall for support.

Their laughter abruptly stopped as they realized what their current positions were.

Without pausing to think, Link angled his head slightly. When Tracy offered no protests, he moved closer, until their lips were touching.

That first kiss was everything they'd ever heard about. There were fireworks; they saw stars; their spines were tingling with excitement…It was the happiest moment of their relatively short lives.

And then, as their hands started to get carried away, Tracy accidently brushed against Link's injured eye. He let out a slight whimper at the contact, and Tracy instantly retreated. They separated, Link backing all the way to the opposite wall, his head bowed in shame.

"I'm sorry, Trace. I didn't mean to get carried away. What must you think of me?"

Despite the seemingly obvious reference to their kiss, Tracy knew that he was referring to being abused by his father.

"Link," she said tenderly, once more approaching him warily for fear of startling him. "There's no shame in what your father did to you. It's a horrible fact of life, but it happens. What's important is that you got out when you did."

Link's head shot up at her words, his eyes filled with hope that she wasn't rejecting him.

"And," she added, "now that I've got you, I won't ever let you go again. Did you think that just because you'd left your father that you'd be homeless? No, sir—I'm sure my parents will be more than happy to let you stay with us."

"Do you really mean that, Trace?" he asked.

"With all my heart," she replied seriously.

Now, however, Tracy was the one to become embarrassed by her frankness. Luckily, Link took pity on her and refrained from bringing up her most recent comment.

"W—we should get inside," said Tracy, stuttering slightly due to nerves.

"Alright," said Link agreeably. "Where do you suggest?"

"How about Maybelle's record shop?"

"Tracy, that's brilliant. No one'd think of looking for us there. I was even scared to go there, initially, when Seaweed first invited us."

"Let's go then," said Tracy, smiling brightly.

Once more, they joined hands and set off.


They let themselves in, staying quiet even though Maybelle had told them they were welcome anytime, and there was the fact that no one would think of looking for them in a ghetto in their favor.

Tracy pulled a willing Link towards the couch, quickly darting away to turn on the light.

"Link, I want to see the damage your father caused."

He immediately tensed, eyes widening in panic before lowering them in shame for the second time that evening.

"Will you let me?" asked Tracy persistently.

After a moment's hesitation, Link nodded, albeit reluctantly. He carefully raised his arms to remove his sweater, that in itself telling Tracy that he must be in a great deal of pain. He then unbuttoned his shirt, his body on display for Tracy to see.

Her first response was to gasp—Link's chest and back were littered with bruises. Then, upon closer inspection, Tracy discovered extensive scarring, which indicated that the abuse had been occurring for quite some time.

"How long?" she asked in a subdued whisper.

"Ever since my mom died, when I was eight," he explained. "My dad took up drinking, as a way to cope with the pain. He'd come home late at night, making a lot of noise. He'd then get mad when I'd inform him, in the way that only a child could, that he woke me up. He'd retaliate, and this would be the result." Link finished his tale of woe by gesturing to his mutilated body. "I'm sure you want nothing more to do with me, now that you know how damaged I am. So, I won't bother you again after tonight."

"Don't be silly, Link. Of course I still want to see you. If I didn't, would I do this?"

In a bold gesture that surprised even Tracy, she bent over Link and began to kiss the various bruises and scars, as though, through her touch alone, she could heal him.

Link, being a teenage boy, couldn't help the eager response his body made. In one swift motion, he had them flipped so that Tracy's back was pressed into the couch and he was crouched over her, leaving a trail of kisses up and down her neck and collar bone. They were so engrossed in their…activities…that they didn't hear the door to the shop open. They only became aware that they were no longer alone when a voice broke through their passion-filled haze, saying, "Yeah, cracker boy, get some."

Tracy and Link looked up to find Seaweed and Maybelle standing in the doorway, accompanied by Little Inez and Penny.

"Hi!" said Tracy cheerfully, trying to ignore the weight pressing down on her from above.

"Inez, go to your room," said Maybelle gently.

"Aw, just when the fun's about to start…" But she left without further complaint.

"Penny, what are you doing here?" asked Tracy, confused as to the presence of her best friend, but delighted all the same.

"I tried running away to join you and Seaweed, but my mother caught me. She had me tied up in my room…you know, with the jump rope. Anyway, Seaweed came and rescued me. Now, here I am."

"And we're happy to have you, honey," Maybelle interjected. "You'll be sharing Seaweed's room."

"Thank you, Miss Maybelle," said Penny gratefully.

"Good night. Seaweed, behave," she said with a pointed glance at her son.

"Sure, Mama," he replied sweetly, the picture of innocence as he guided Penny into his bedroom and shut the door.

"As for you two," said Maybelle, pretending to be stern but fighting back a smile all the while, "Be safe."

"Of course, Miss Maybelle. Thank you for letting us stay here," the two chorused.

Maybelle nodded before retiring to her own room for the night, leaving Link and Tracy alone.

"Will you be alright?" asked Tracy, her eyes raking over Link's body in concern.

"I'm fine, Trace. There's nothin' my dad can dish out that I can't handle. Don't worry your pretty head, little darlin'," he replied confidently.

"Alright, then, if you're sure."

Link leaned over to plant a quick kiss on Tracy's plump lips before lowering himself to the ground.

"I'll sleep on the floor," he said before Tracy could protest. As he made himself as comfortable as was possible, he looked up at her and said cheekily, "There is one thing I'm sure about, Tracy Turnblad—I love you."

With that, he promptly fell asleep, the day having taken its toll on him.

As Tracy settled herself on the couch, a secretive smile played across her lips. "I love you too, Link Larkin," she whispered to the darkened room.