Disclaimer: I own me...sort of..but I'm not in the story. ;)
A/N:Well here's the next chapter. Not sure, but I think it might be a bit long, or maybe not, I can never tell with how things will come out once I post a chapter. I hope it's not to long. Let me know, and I'll try and be less wordy. (is that a word?)
Oh yeah, readers will note something odd in this chapter, concerning a characters name. Don't worry, it's not a mistake, all will become clear in time.
Once again thanks for reading and thanks to those that have reviewed. Much appreciated.
Anyway, on to Chapter 10
It was probably the most uncomfortable rides of all times.
With Mark and Glen, wondering how they would begin to explain what has happened in the last 2 days and Stephanie, clearly aware that something happened, with the two, beyond Mark's family's murder. Could Mark have found who was responsible and taken the matter into his own hands? The young woman sets her eyes to the back of the head of the man she tended to think of as a close uncle. She knew this man as well as anyone could know him. She figured only Glen and Bill knew him better. Well his wives may top that list, but she truly doubted it. As much as Mark will devote himself to who he is married to, it was clear not even those loves of his life, could displace wrestling from the large man's heart. His kids might contend for his affection, but who could know? Mark was not known for bringing them to shows. Not like the other wrestlers, who loved to show off their kids and wives to the other wrestlers and visa versa.
Stephanie could count on one hand the number of times Mark would bring Jodie or Sara, once she no longer traveled with him, to shows. Most times it was to pay per views, or when the company was holding a show in Houston. For the most part the women in his life remained outside of his other life, wrestling.
The thought that Mark my have killed someone, will not leave Stephanie alone. "Are they on the run?" She asked herself, "Am I about to aid two fugitives?" And what if she was? This was Mark and Glen. Despite how she acted on tv, she cared greatly for the men who worked for her family. Mark more then others, maybe. The youngest McMahon closes her eyes, trying to fight down the headache that is threatening to take residence in her skull. Firmly dismissing any though of these two as murderers, this leaves the young woman with the mystery of what it is the two large men were hiding and why they felt they have to meet her and her father at the hotel.
Running well-manicured fingers nervously through her hair, Stephanie tries to sort her mind, running back over the last few tragic days. Her thoughts go to the locker room, how the news of Mark's loss has affected the boys in the back. The news hit a lot of the talent hard. She can't diminish the impact the news of another lost wrestler, but to hear about the loss of a family, brings so much home to these men and women. In truth, even, Stephanie, at times, cannot really imagine what it is like to only see your family, maybe, a few times a year. For her and her family, when all is said and done, they can saw each other every day. Most times getting to go home and sleep in their own beds. Neither of them, except Paul, can say there really know what this life does to these men and women. Would she, could, she want to know? Sometimes she feels an outside, of sorts, when it comes to this subject.
Sighing softly to herself, she glances out the window at the passing cars and landscape. How often would she sit in her office when a slow feeling of guilt would creep its way into her thoughts and heart? It might be when she is working on a script that would lower the status of one of the men on the roster. She doesn't do it carelessly. No she would never deliberately seek to hurt any of these men, but she has to think of her families business, and at times she sees a sacrifice must be made for that to happen. She just wishes that that sacrifices was not always put on the shoulders of men and women just struggling to put food on their tables and clothing on their families, or roofs over their heads. At those times she will have to sit back, push the papers away and try and reconcile this life she was born into with the hurt it does to others.
There was never a time, in her life, when wrestling was not at the forefront. She grew up around it, around the people that made their livings in it. She thinks about them now and has to swallowing closing her eyes to block out the tears that sometimes threaten to slip forth. So many men she used to know. Men she would call uncle, or run to down long cable strewn halls to jump into waiting muscled arms, delighting in comforting hugs. Men she would never see again, arms that would never hold her. Men lost to a life-style, as outsiders so flippantly refer to it now, a life-style that was fun, exciting, and could be very devastating in the end. It brought with it, some financial security, certainly, not for everyone, and even for those that did come out with a secure bank account, few were left unscathed. She thinks of Terry and shakes her head. A man that many think has it all. Yet, in such a short time, all that could be gone.
Then there are the ones that don't even make it out. So trapped by wrestling they cannot see it is time to move on, or find there is nowhere else they can go, nothing else they can do. She shakes her head slightly at the thought of the fate of these men. And there are the most tragic of all. The ones that do get out, but, in one way of the other, it is not a real freedom. Lost health, or life. Stephanie balls her fist tightly. No she will not continue this track of thought. She misses these men the most and it hurts like hell to know she and her family make their living this way. She doesn't want to take the blame, if blame must be placed, for the tragedies of this industry, but there are times, when it is hard to. Sometimes hard to figure out just how much is it wrestling, human nature, or some other, indefinable, something, that makes this the most destructive business in the world, in the wide spread cost to human life, that does not involve having people shooting at you. And why, do men and women, knowing now the very nature of wrestling, do hundreds still seek it out? For all her 30 something years, she is still at a loss as to what the real draw could be. If she was not born into this industry, she is quiet sure, she would not have stepped 2 ft in its direction.
"Passion Princess, passion and finding that one thing in the world that calls to your very soul." Said Mark with an, almost soul deep, sigh.
Both Glen and Stephanie gape wide-eyed at Mark, who had not taken his eyes off the road, while making that little comment. Glen wonders why his brother even said that, as he glances back to the young McMahon. Clearly his big brother was talking to her, unless he had decided to come up with a new nick for Glen. And in that case he would have to beat his brother into a pulp for calling him "princess". Stephanie, for her part, was dealing with the thought that the man she had known for a good part of her life, just acted like he was reading her thoughts. Turning her brown eyes to meet that of Glen's miss matched pair a cold feeling crept down her spine. For the first time in her life, Stephanie Marie McMahon was scared. Scared of the men in the seats in front of her. Scared of what she saw in the eyes of the man looking back at her. Scared of the man driving the car she, now, felt trapped in. How could Mark have known what she was thinking? Did she speak out loud? No. She never does that, she learned well from her father to keep her inner thoughts and feelings to herself. "My God! Did Mark read my thoughts?" This new thought took permanent residence now in her head, replacing her wonders if Mark had killed someone.
Glen frowned. He could not miss the fear that was now well settled in the eyes of the young woman in the back seat. Looking over to his brother, he wonders what Mark had done to actually frighten a McMahon, this McMahon. Thinking on what Mark had just said, Glen, again, wonders why he even said it. It was as if he was answering something, that had not been asked…. or had it? Not for the first time, since this nightmare had started, Glen found himself wondering if his brother did have the ability to read minds. The younger man, thinks about how Mark had answered questions continually that had been popping into Glen's head, since leaving his father's house. Or how he had stop Glen from asking about his earlier declaration about the reason for Paul's actions. Sitting forward, once more, Glen cannot help but feel for the poor woman in the back. If it were him, he would be scared beyond reason right about now. And, if Mark could read thoughts, was he being so blatant about it? Normally his older brother would be more circumspect about what he could do. Even around Glen, Mark would rarely flaunt abilities he know Glen was well aware of, and would not, in anyway, freak out, for want of a better phrase, his younger sibling. But here he was, unnerving a woman he cared the world for. Glen could only assume that even Mark was starting to feel the strain of what was occurring in their lives.
Then again, who could blame the man? As strong as his older brother might be, even he had his limits. Losing his family and his freedom all in one day can break the will of the strongest man. This thought, starts to send a seed of dread into Glen's heart now. If Mark could break, if he could lose his world famous cool, how was he, Glen, going to hold out?
Glen turns his attention back to his brother and for the first time takes note of signs he had been missing, so lost in his own thoughts and concerns. Like how tightly Mark was gripping the steering wheel, or the cluster of veins at his temples. Not to mention how tightly his older brother's jaw was clinched. Glen realized the man next to him was in pain. Maybe not physical pain, but pain none the less. A slight sense of guilt swept over the younger man. Here he was bemoaning his own fate, annoyed with his brother for not being as forthright as he would like, and it was clear, now, that Mark was trying to deal with a lot of things beside their current position. Just the fact his brother seemed to be in some kind of physical pain concerned Glen the most. Setting a hand on his brother's shoulder, the only thing Glen could think to do at the moment. It was no secret the brothers were not really that demonstrative with each other, let alone other people, so he was sure this action must be confusing poor Stephanie even more, but he needed to show his brother he was there, the only way he could figure to comfort the large man and, hopefully, help to ease whatever pain Mark was trying to deal with alone.
The gesture was not lost on Mark, neither were the thoughts that were bombarding the large man, from the two other people in the car. What really took him by surprise was the fact that Glen's action actually did help to ease the pain that had been building in his head. With the lessening of the pain, Mark was finally able to erect buffers that would reduce, if not stop, the thoughts rushing into his overloaded mind.
"Thanks." Was all Glen got from his brother, but it let him know that he had done the right thing, and that his guess about what Mark had been going through was correct. "Hey," smirking as he responds back, "what are brothers for?" He can't help but laugh at loud when Mark shoots back with, "Being a pain in the ass, last I read, and lord knows you're the master at that." Glen chuckles good-naturedly, till he feels Mark stiffen under his hand. Then it hits him, as he slowly turns around to gaze back at the young woman, they both had momentarily forgotten was there. Meeting another wide-eyed stare from the youngest McMahon. This was not going at all well. "Look Steph, we'll explain everything at the hotel. Please just hold it in a bit more." He sees the questions in her eyes. As far as anyone, even Vince, were concerned, the whole 'brother' thing was just a gimmick that Paul, Mark and Russo came up with to help give Mark some more story possibilities. Glen was just Glen Jacobs, Issac Yankum or Uni-Bomb. He was a close friend to Mark, to be sure, but not his actual brother. What Steph was just subjected to was the truth. So now, she either thought the two of them had lost their minds, or she took what she just saw at face value and knew the truth, long before they were prepared to explain it all.
Glen sighed in relief as he saw the young woman nod and sit back, arms crossed over her chest. Yes, she would wait, but he knew, he and Mark had better pick their words carefully when they do spill it all. This girl was spooked enough already, if they revealed the truth in the wrong way, things could really get bad. If she, or Vince reacted wrong, the two brothers could be for a world of bad. With Vince it could go so far as revealing their secret to the world, just to improve business. Who would not start coming to WWE events on just the chance of seeing two real life 'magical' beings? Not to mention the number of power people that would love to get control of either of them, for their own gains. He did not even want to venture the thought of how the government would react to having two powerful men, such as they, at their disposal. Their lives, as they knew them, would be over. But Glen knew for Mark, the worse outcome would be to lose the closeness he had with Stephanie. To have the boys look at him differently. To see fear in the eyes of those he really cared for.
His brother, unlike Glen, allowed himself few close friends and ties, just because of this possibility. As much as Mark feared the loss of his freedom, he feared losing those close to him. One of the scars he gained from the fire. He, Glen, strangely was the opposite, despite his character on screen; Glen was very outgoing within the wrestling community. He was close to many of the boys and some of the women in the company. He rarely shied away from going out after shows or joining in on card games in the back with whoever would ask. In it's way, this was one of Glen's actual scars from the fire. He dreaded being alone and unwanted. He craved friendships and relationships like a drowning man craved air. Without it he felt lost, like he did back in the fire. Or locked away in his father's basement. This revelation would be a test he hoped he and Mark could weather.
Steph, for her part, could not keep a thought straight in her head. "What the hell is going on?" she thought, not for the first time tonight. "Mark and Glen acting like they were actual brothers." She thought to herself as she looks down to her shoes, taking a hand to brush back as strand of hair that slid in front of her eye. "Are they nuts? Their just friends, that whole brother thing is part of the act…. or is it?" She can't get the sight of the two in the front seat and how they acted towards each other. She watched as Glen, looked at Mark as if he was searching for something, then the hand to the shoulder, and how Mark relaxed under it. At first the thought the two were closer then just friends, hit her like a ton of bricks. She never would have pigged either man as gay, though, she knew, you can never really tell and they were very close. In fact, at this time, Glen was Mark's closes friend in the back. Was this the reason? All the thoughts of Mark and Glen as lovers were dashed from the woman's thoughts as the gesture was followed close on its heels with the words from Mark, then Glen. Brothers. As the young woman lets that concept sink in, her mind starts to answers a few questions she had always had, concerning the two.
She remembered when Glen was in the company as Issac. How Mark seem to make a point of staying as far from Glen, as Glen would stay from Mark. As well as how none of the parties concerned, this included Bill, were high on the short lived feud between the two. Then, without warning, after the disastrous attempt of using Glen to fill in as the "New Diesel", Bill proposed him to be the Undertaker's thought to be dead, younger brother. It was that and the idea of portraying the Undertaker as a murder that left Stephanie at a loss. There were other small things that few others seemed to pick up on. Like how Mark would watch Glen when Glen as not aware. It was the look in the big man's eyes that always bothered Stephanie. It was not hatred, or even curiosity. It was almost like…longing. Or the rare times when Mark would sit in on meetings and discussions for angles or storylines and inevitably, any attempt to lower Glen's place on the show was met with cold disapproval by him. There were no, outward, signs, at that time, that the two were friends, yet Mark made a point of protecting the younger man when he could. Oddly enough, Stephanie realizes, that friendship did not really take shape till after Bill was let go from the company. Glancing up, once more, looking at the back of each man's head, Stephanie McMahon comes to realize that maybe, what was just a gimmick to everyone else, herself included, was, in all actuality, the true relationship between the two men. But if that were true, why were they keeping it a secret?
And if they were hiding that simple fact, what other secrets where these two employees of her father holding?
Her train of thought was interrupted as she watches Mark pull up to the front door of the hotel. Without invite Steph is quick to slide out of the car. Well aware of how it might seem to her two companions, but unable to help her need to get into the fresh air, breathe and collect her thoughts. Mark sighs as he exits the car, tossing the keys to the valet as the young black man hands him a receipt. Glen gets out and walks past Stephanie, avoiding her eyes completely. He does not want to admit it, but the way she left the car, as if she could not wait to put distance between her and them, hurt him deeply. How would she react when she heard the truth? How will Mark take it, if she rejects him for being…well, a monster. "Let's face it," comes the unwanted thoughts, "that's just what we are. Living breathing monsters."
He turns his head as a hand comes gently down on his right shoulder and he looks into the pale green eyes of his older brother. "No. You're not a monster. You never were." Glen's breath catches at the utter sorrow deep in her brother's eyes and he cannot but notice, he said 'you're' not 'we'. Grinning the younger sibling pats the hand on his shoulder. "Neither of us is. Thanks Mark." With that Glen turns and walks into the hotel, as Mark watches him move away and wonders when his younger brother got to be so smart. Mark turns back to Steph, who had been watching the by play a distance away and goes to waves her in, but is caught up short by the look in her eyes and the welling up of tears. "Are you ok?" he asks as he moves to stand near her. She nods and smiles. "So that's how brothers act?" She giggles a bit as she looks down to dash the unshed tears away. "Maybe you two can give Shane some pointers." Mark can't help but give her a lopsided grin and bends down to whisper in her ear. "It's easy, just punch him in the arm a few times. He'll come around." Stephanie laughs in spite of herself then without thinking, throws her arms around Mark's neck hugging him as if she will ever get to do so again. Mark quickly returns the embrace without thinking, as the young woman whispers back, "I want you to know that whatever it is you and Glen have to tell us. Whatever trouble you are in, we're behind you. I'm behind you. We'll see this through, I promise."
Mark says nothing, just holds her till he is sure she has regained enough of her composure that she will not draw embarrassing attention to herself. Releasing her, he lets her move towards the hotel door and proceeding inside; following a few second later. As he walks through the door he catches Glen, staring at him with a bemused smirk. Shaking his head at his brother's tendency to never let things get to him, to the point he loses his sense of the amusing, Mark walks over and punches him lightly in the arm. "Ouch!" yells Glen as he rubs his arm, even though the punch was not hard at all, "what was that for?" Mark gives that crocked smile to his brother now, "Oh just keeping you in line." Mark has to keep form laughing at the fake hurt look on his younger brother's face. "God your mean." The older man glances over to Steph as she stands nearby with a hand over her mouth fighting a losing battle not to laugh, "See, I told you it worked…" His words are cut short and the mood changes as all three turn at the sound of the voice behind them.
"Ok I'm here. Whatever this is about had better be good."