di·lem·ma: a situation that requires a choice between options that are or seem equally unfavourable or mutually exclusive.

It may have only been a bit over five hours sleep, but it was the most refreshing one Sportacus could remember having had in the past two years. Whisking his hat and goggles off the bedside table that was still extending itself from the wall, he sprung out of bed with a bit more vigour than normal, dropping to the floor for a quick set of push ups before jumping up into few light stretches. The golden rays of the rising sun shone brightly through the front windows, and Sportacus closed his eyes, basking in the warmth.

For a few minutes, he was blissfully unaware of the reason for the nervous energy racketing around in his body. Then the epiphany of the previous night came rushing back to him and his hands froze where they were, midway through their morning routine of securing his trademark headgear over the tips of his ears. Looking down, he watched his fingers go slack and release their grip, the hat and goggles falling to his feet as he slumped down at the foot of his bed. His ears. An eternal reminder of who—of what—he was. To LazyTown, he was their hero, the man in blue who never failed to help those in need. He would always show up at the perfect time, flipping over walls and fences to land right before them, willing to lend a hand for even the most mundane of tasks.

Nobody ever considered exactly how he knew somebody was in trouble; all it took was a reassuring smile and a gently chiding "be more careful next time!" for the thought to evaporate from their minds. Sportacus would call for the ladder, and he'd disappear back into his airship with a parting wave. Life would go on. But as the years ticked by, life in LazyTown changed. Like Stephanie, the rest of the gang began to realise their dreams and went out into the world. Basketball games were replaced by ever-increasing amounts of homework, soccer matches by outings in the city with new friends. Sportacus was no longer needed; the next generation of children in LazyTown called out to him and he responded duly. He had always known that this was going to happen, but it saddened him nonetheless that the time had finally come.

His one consolidation was Stephanie. While Pixel, Ziggy, Stingy and Trixie had all left to study abroad, she had stayed put, moving out of her uncle's house and into a cosy little cottage on the edge of town. "I'm waiting for an offer" was her cheerful reply to his tentative questioning of her plans for the future. He never understood why she had waited so long before going to America—even with his basic awareness of dance school reputation, he had on more than one occasion recognised the seal of a well-known academy on a letter sticking out from her mailbox during his morning runs. He would watch her from the airship as she collected the mail every morning, her long pink hair falling around her face as she looked down at the invitations dismissively before sifting through the rest of the pile. He swore that she would glance up at him each time, but never knew the reason. He never asked her about it either; their now rare conversations consisted of nothing but pleasantries and the progress of Stephanie's rapidly-expanding dance school.

And now here he was with his head in his hands, snatches of the times he had spent with her over the past few years flitting through his mind. He loved her, it was true, but he was definitely not expecting her to feel the same way. If she knew he was not entirely human…

Sportacus felt a pricking sensation in his eyes and a scant second later, a solitary tear dropped onto the back of his hand. He blinked and stared at it, shocked. He could not remember a time that he had cried, even as a small child. He had always been strong, for others' sake if not for his own. Despite the tears running freely down along his face, he found himself laughing, bittersweet. To think that he was now the one who needing help, and there was no-one to come bounding to his rescue.

A sudden noise punctured the fog of his misery, and Sportacus automatically stretched out a hand to catch the letter tube arcing towards him. Robotically unscrewing the lid of the tube and uncurling the letter that was inside, his puffy eyes managed to read what was on the paper.

Sportacus,

I need to see you.

- Stephanie

Sportacus' eyes widened as he frantically re-read the letter before springing into action, quelling all feelings of self-pity as he pushed his hat and goggles onto his head, tucking his ears underneath. Calling for the door and sliding down the ladder in record time, he hit the ground running. He was still the town hero, and did not need the crystal to know that Stephanie needed his help.