I guess I had another chapter (though a bit short) wanting to come out! So here you go!

Chapter 4

Glen was sitting next to him laid back in his seat. His bald head was tipped backwards and his mouth hung open. From that dark, gaping, orifice issued the occasional snore. Mark leaned his head against the glass windowpane. Outside a perfect blue sky drifted by marred only by the occasional wispy mist of cloud. He didn't know how he could be on a plane full of people and feel so alone. He sighed. It didn't matter, that's what was best, to be alone. He closed his eyes when the voice of Michelle McCool reached his ears. She was sitting up further on the plane, at least she had the good graces to do that and try to avoid him. He was still thoroughly confused as to what sent that relationship plummeting downward but he had in the end blamed it on himself. McCool had hooked up with someone else not two seconds after the break up was official. Mark would have to have a negative IQ to not guess that she had been seeing him while she and Mark were still together. Her reasoning for breaking things off so suddenly was that 'You are not meeting my needs'. Why do women say things like that? What needs? Does she mean emotionally? Sexually? Does she mean you're just a flat out failure at everything? Whatever it was it was his fault that he hadn't noticed. It was his fault that he hadn't been able to 'meet her needs'. It was so similar to what Sara had said.

He remembered her words clearly as though she was sitting right next to him yelling in his ear.

"It's me or your job Mark! I need more from you, you're gone all the time, when you come home you're distant, what is it? Is there someone else?"

"No, I would never do that to you!"

Her eyes turned on him cold and accusing. They bit and chilled his soul like an icy winter gust that sends the naked trees to shivering.

"You do Mark, you have another lover." A tear slipped down her cheek and she spit out her next words at him. "The Undertaker is your lover, wrestling is, Vince fucking McMahon is, you care about all that more than you care about me or your family! I'm finding someone else who can give me what I deserve Mark." She snatched her phone from the table with a trembling hand. "I'm leaving you Mark. I'm taking the girls, I hope you're happy with what you've done to us!"

"Sara, no! Baby we can work this out, don't do this!"

"No Mark, you chose a long time ago…I just didn't want to believe it!"

"Sara, I love you!"

"You do not!" She screwed her ring from her finger and shoved it into his chest. She left him standing in the kitchen mouth ajar, eyes flooded with tears, mind tossing and turning in a torrent of turmoil and confusion, heart shattering into tiny slivers.

"Sir?"

Mark swam up from his thoughts and turned away from the window as the voice prodded again.

"Sir?" The young attendant smiled at him hesitantly. "Can I get you something to--"

She was interrupted by a loud snort from Glen. He clicked his mouth shut biting his tongue and his eyes flew open with a curse.

"Hmmm? What happened?" He asked rubbing his eyes.

"You're annoying when you sleep." Mark commented blandly.

"You're annoying when you're awake." Glen shot back good naturedly. The stewardess tried once more.

"Would either of you like something to drink?"

Both men let her know they were okay. Glen was more polite about it while Mark just grumbled his reply and went back to brooding. Glen heaved himself out of his chair and made his way back to the toilet.

Miranda read the text from Nattie.

Tell her im sry!

Randi pushed the little gray buttons texting her friend back.

U tell her :)

She put the phone in her lap and a moment later it buzzed alerting her of another text. This one read:

K trade me seats

Randi Grimm turned to Beth and watched her sleeping with her head rested up against the window. Her blonde hair cascaded beautifully over her shoulders. Randi reached over and stroked it a bit but was careful enough not to wake her. There was a poke on Grimm's shoulder. She turned away from Beth and looked up to see Nat waiting for her to relinquish her seat. Randi gave up her spot and moved up the plane and slid into an empty seat. She peaked around it and watched as Nattie pressed a kiss to Beth's cheek. Beth stirred, woke up, and immediately glared at the red-head. Randi shook her head of ebony hair and smiled to herself. She knew in the end they would patch things up. Randi adjusted the seat which had been tilted back and then dropped her hand onto the arm rest. However, another arm had already taken up residence there so she pulled hers away quickly and turned to the person sitting there.

"Sorry…oh, hi!" Fancy that, Randi thought to herself. It's Mark. He didn't seem to take notice that her hand had once again landed on his arm. He hadn't even flinched and her apology turned greeting had obviously fallen onto deaf ears. His dull green eyes focused on the sky outside the window. Ever so often he blinked and she watched his fair lashes flutter up and down. He traced his fingers idly over the name tattooed on his neck: Sara.

A wave of empathy washed over her. Her heart went out to the big man. She had heard of what happened between him and his wife. Then if that wasn't enough he had got into a seemingly great relationship with McCool only to be burned by her. The thought just made Randi's blood boil. As McCool stirred anger in her she unknowingly squeezed Mark's arm tighter and this brought him out of his shadows.

"You again." His voice rumbled sadly like a lonely wave of thunder sounding over a desolate plain. "Are ya just touchy-feely with everyone or am I special?"

Randi removed her hand and smiled up at his stony countenance.

"Yes and yes." She answered.

"Hmph, nothin' special." Mark mumbled. His eyes cast downward and his brow creased with sadness.

"Of course you are. I…I'm sorry about recent things."

She hoped she wasn't poking her nose in where it didn't belong. She was a bit reluctant but at the same time she felt the compulsion to do something, mainly to wrap him up in a hug, but that would have been way too much. She didn't even know the man. Mark didn't answer her he just kept his green eyes on the floor.

"Me too." His voice rose barely over a whisper. Glen began to stop next to his seat, but he saw Mark in a further depressed state from when they had boarded the plane, and he also saw Randi reaching out to touch his arm in an attempt to offer some shred of comfort. Glen moved on and seated himself in an empty chair.

He was really getting to her. She felt tears stinging at her eyes because of how his voice was so thick with angst and pain and how much his eyes echoed despair. She started to speak again but had to stop to still the quiver that threatened to distort her speech.

"Mark, I know we don't really know each other…but I just want you to know if you need anything, anything at all...you can always find me." She pulled a pen from the pocket on the back of the seat in front of her. She scrawled her cell number on Mark's hand, then replaced the pen, and leaned back in her seat leaving him be. She didn't want to push him too hard. Maybe if she was patient enough and gentle enough he would open to her eventually.

Mark glanced over at the woman who had fallen asleep next to him. He watched her eyes roll and twitch under her eyelids as she dreamed. Her pinkish lips curled in a slight smile. She was better to have sleeping next to you than Glen. He looked down at his hand and the number scribbled there. His head was telling him to drag his thumb across his tongue and scrub the ink away efficiently disposing of the number. Why did he need it? He didn't even let Glen, one of his closest friends, in to his deepest thoughts and troubles. He was just naturally choosey about who he let in. More lately this had escalated from choosey to just plain closed off. Even Glen rarely got anything out of him these days. Why should he even entertain the thought of spilling his feelings to her? It was just as she said: they didn't even know each other. They were only passing shadows in the hallways of arenas and hotels. Mark slid his thumb over his tongue and began to wipe away the first three digits. After smudging them he paused. Don't do this, if you give just a little you're nothing but a damn fool! Open up one little crack and it will just get wider and wider and wider until—

"Shut up!" Mark had meant to say it mentally but he had spoken the words aloud. Luckily, no one had heard him. He dug his cell from his pocket and flipped it open. With a loud sigh he scrolled down to his 'contacts list' and added a name: Miranda Grimm.

Lemme know yer thoughts, yar maties! It's 2:30 somethin' in the morning and I feel like talkin' like a pirate, yar…ye be warned! Lol, insomnia…not good! Please disregard my random ramblings and leave me a review. Weeee!