Despite last-minute work and last-minute job interviews this week, I have managed to get this chapter finished! There's only one more to go after this, though sadly as I'm away for the next week-and-a-bit (San Diego Comic Con - oh the excitement!) there's going to be a bit of a wait for it. Sorry! Hope this one will tide you over until then.

Enjoy!

Part 10.

Shane's world falls apart when he wakes to find Hunter gone.

At first there's denial, and a fierce belief that his boyfriend will be back soon, that he just needs some space, but as the days go on the hope of the thunder ninja returning of his own accord begins to fade. Shane throws himself into trying to track him, find out where he is, but with no morpher and no phone even Cam's not-inconsiderable skills seem to be unable to get a trace on him. In fairness to the tech, the thunder ninja is fully aware of the samurai's methods and knows how to avoid detection if he wishes.

Hunter's off the grid and they all know he'll remain that way until he wants to be found.

The only sighting they have is a grainy security camera image taken from a gas station just south of Blue Bay, which Shane clings to; gazing at the indistinct-yet-familiar features and trying desperately to get a read on his lover's emotions. Almost as if by staring at it he could discover where Hunter was headed. But he can't.

Days turn into weeks with no sign of the thunder ninja. No trace of him anywhere, just a gaping hole where Hunter should be; a raw wound that refuses to heal.

Denial turns into anger; fury at his parents for their dismissal of his sadness, for their barely concealed joy at what they see as a break-up, and for their half-hearted platitudes (-"He was no good for you"; "It's not like it was a real relationship anyway"-), at Cam for the tech's inability to find Hunter, and mind-numbing, all-consuming anger at the blond himself.

For not talking to him.

For leaving.

For not saying goodbye.

He wonders what he'd done, if there was anything he could have said to stop Hunter going; if there was anything he had said that'd caused the other man to flee. He must have done something right?

He said he'd loved him…

Was that it? Was that what had made Hunter run? But it hadn't… The blond hadn't been freaked out, hadn't shown any sign of being freaked out, and all of the air ninja's instincts are telling him that isn't it. That it's something else.

Shane replays that last evening again and again, reliving every moment, every word spoken, every soft look and gentle caress and… everything, just trying to figure it out. Trying to work out how to change it, undo it, but he can't. There'd been nothing; no hint, no niggling sensation that anything was wrong and so he's left wondering why.

Part of the mystery is solved a month after Hunter's disappearance, when Shane discovers his father had spoken with him at the party that evening. He doesn't know exactly what was said, but given the blond's departure and his father's sudden, renewed interest in having him attend Stanford, Shane can make an educated guess. He really should have expected it; especially after his parents hadn't been angry when he told them he'd wrecked his car, buying him a new truck without blinking. That display of rare generosity should have set off warning bells but he'd been so caught up in his single-minded desire to find Hunter – and ignore his pain – that he hadn't given it proper thought.

The revelation breaks whatever little remained of the trust he'd had with his parents; bitter, hurtful, angry words are followed by painful silences and Shane just can't bear being around the house any longer. So he decides to leave, go back to the one place he did feel at home, even for a brief while; the one place he'd felt comfortable and safe and… loved.

Walking through the door is surprisingly difficult. He knew coming back to the place he'd spent so much time with Hunter wouldn't be easy, but he's unprepared for just how hard it is; how much it hurts when he turns the key in the door and finds himself expecting a greeting that never comes.

The apartment is remains the same as it was the morning Hunter left, everything exactly where it was then; a moment frozen in time, the thin veneer of dust covering the surfaces the only indication that time has indeed passed. Shane drops his keys on the kitchen counter, the rattle they make as they land jarringly loud, breaking the stillness of the apartment. The silence is oppressive in its completeness, the air motionless and stale and… empty. Overwhelmingly empty.

He moves listlessly around the living room, eyes taking in the once-comforting surroundings; the patch of oil on the carpet from where Hunter had stripped his bike down and forgot to put enough newspaper underneath; the pile of Shane's dvds by the tv that had slowly migrated across to the apartment; the sight of Red vs. Blue beside the dvd player, case open from when they had watched it while getting ready for the party, a physical stab in his chest; a shirt – his or Hunter's, he isn't sure – draped carelessly over the back of the sofa; dust motes dancing in the beam of sunlight streaming in from the window, the air disturbed by his passing.

He pauses at the bedroom door, staring down at the handle in his hand, fingers gripping it tightly, the filed edge digging into his palm. It's when he pushes open the door and takes in the crumpled sheets and dented pillows – the bed looking for all the world as if someone's just jumped out of it and will be back any moment – that Shane finally begins to realise that he's gone. Hunter's gone and Shane… can't do anything about it. Can't fix it or fight it or change it. He just has to accept it.

Everything's suddenly, sharply, real. The sun lighting the room though the closed blinds is too bright, the dust-filled air thick and chocking, his clothing too tight, too rough against his skin… Yanking his shirt off over his head he throws it viciously across the room, the material unfurling and floating harmlessly to land in the corner.

He takes a couple of steps into the room before sinking to the floor beside the bed, taking deep, gulping breaths to try and calm himself but there's a pressure in his chest, a constricting of his lungs that's making breathing difficult and there's a rushing in his ears, heart hammering in his chest for no real reason.

His hand brushes against something soft on the floor nearby and with trembling fingers he draws a worn t-shirt out from under the bed. It's the top Hunter was wearing the day before he left, the one he'd had on when they went tuxedo shopping, the one Shane had pulled off of him the moment they'd got through the bedroom door that afternoon. He clutches it to his chest, feeling hot tears pricking at his eyes and for the first time since Tori's he doesn't fight them; he can't fight them anymore.

Back then the tears had been borne of shock, an unconscious reaction to events that he had not been expecting and could not comprehend. Events that he still can't comprehend. Now he gives in, surrenders to the raw pain he's been trying to hold back for weeks now, as if by focusing on finding Hunter he could somehow ignore his own emotions.

He slips the t-shirt on over his head, the worn material soft and loose against his skin, and drags his body up off the floor, falling heavily onto the bed. The sheets are musty but there's still the faintest scent of Hunter's aftershave clinging to the bedding, a tangible reminder of his lover's presence. Shane buries his face in the pillow – Hunter's pillow –, sobs wracking his body as he finally allows himself to cry, releasing some of the hurt and emotion he's been carrying around, losing himself to the maelstrom of feelings that tear through him.

Oh gods, he misses him so much.

It's the not-knowing that hurts the most. There's a growing, gnawing fear within Shane, insidious and omnipresent; a fear that Hunter could be hurt, or in trouble, or worse. He could be dead and Shane wouldn't know. Shane might never know, never find out. This could be it; this could be the last anyone ever hears of the blond and he'll have to somehow go on with his life and grow old and die without ever finding out what happened. Stuck in perpetual limbo. He just wants to know Hunter's okay, even if the blond doesn't want to be with him. He could deal with rejection, probably.

But this not knowing is killing him.

The anger he's been feeling towards the blond is… not gone completely but subdued; lost beneath the wave of pain that's finally been released. Right now he just wants Hunter back.

He cries until there are no tears left and he's exhausted, wrung out and hollow. Despite the sun still peeking through the cracks in the blinds, his eyes shut and he drifts into a restless slumber. When he wakes hours later, groggy and disorientated, night has fallen and the dark haired man stumbles from the bedroom in search of food. As he enters the kitchen, a beep from his phone catches his attention and he sees the display flashing with missed calls. There's a couple of voicemails from Tori which he listens to, the blonde wondering why he isn't at dinner with her and Dustin followed by concern after she'd tried to ring him at his parents only to be told by his mother he'd walked out of the family home.

He doesn't reply. He just can't work up the energy to care.

He knows his friends are worried about him. But he's hurting and he's alone with this pain. They don't get it; they expect him to be the strong one, the one who takes whatever life throws at him and still keeps going, pick himself up and carry on as if nothing is wrong and he can't… He can't do it. He can't be strong anymore. It's too much. It's too hard. There's a lethargy about him, a numbness, and he just wants to hide away; mourn in peace. The others won't understand and he doesn't want to drag them down with him. This pain is his and his alone.

He turns the phone off and drops it carelessly on the table, grabbing one of Hunter's beers from the fridge and retreating back into bed.

All he wants is to be alone.

He's not sure if a week or more has passed since he hid away in Hunter's apartment, but his wallowing is violently interrupted by a fierce banging on the front door and a female voice, loud and persistent, demanding entry. He tries to ignore it, retreating to the bedroom and hiding his head beneath the pillow but the knocking only increases; the door shaking in its frame as the intruder continues yelling at him.

"Shane Clarke, I know you're in there. If you don't open this door right now I'll break it down. Just you see if I won't."

Biting back a curse, Shane throws the pillow viciously in the direction of Tori's voice, but he gets up with a groan. He knows this is no idle threat from the water sensei; she is more than capable of forcing her way in if she really puts her mind to it and Shane doesn't want the hassle of having to replace a trashed lock. He reluctantly unlatches the door but before he can open it fully, Tori and Dustin are barging past him into the apartment and taking in the state of the room, discarded take-away cartons, pizza boxes and empty beer bottles littering the floor around the sofa where Shane has spent most of the week.

They turn to him as one, equal looks of disappointment and something that looks uncomfortably like pity on their faces.

Tori pulls herself together first, scowling at the air ninja. "Shane-"

"Dude, you stink," Dustin announces, wrinkling his nose.

The blonde gives a tentative sniff, gaze taking in Shane's dishevelled state, his unkempt hair, unshaved face and dirty clothes, and her frown deepens. "When was the last time you washed?"

Shane tries to remember but before he can come up with an answer, his pause has told her everything she needs to know.

"Shower, now," Tori demands, pointing firmly at the bathroom. Her eyes harden as he opens his mouth. "Don't even think of arguing or I'll strip you off and shove you in that shower myself. I will do it; you know I will. It won't be pretty and it won't be dignified but hey, it's your choice."

Shane doesn't put up a fight. Tori won't hesitate to carry out that promise and his pride couldn't take that. He strides into the bathroom with as much dignity he can muster and slowly strips off Hunter's t-shirt before the rest of his clothes follow. The hot water that slams into him feels… good. Really good. As the accumulated dirt sluices off him, the tension he hardly realised he was carrying in his muscles eases and Shane might have to concede his two friends have a point.

When he at last drags himself out from under the jet he finds a towel and pile of clean clothes strategically placed just inside the door and the corners of his mouth twitch in the closest he's come to smiling in a while. He even works up the energy to shave, removing the dark, itchy stubble that is a week-old beard.

Dried, clothed and running a towel across his damp hair, he exits the bathroom to find Tori and Dustin busying themselves getting the living room back in order. "So do you two have a plan or are you just here to glare at me?" he asks as they stop mid-clean to look at him.

Tori reacts first, giving him a barely perceptible nod before casting a reproving eye over the littered room. "We've got to finish cleaning this place up," the water ninja says. "Then we're going shopping-"

"-'cos dude, you have, like, no food in here at all," Dustin pipes up, once again interrupting the blonde.

She gives the earth ninja an exasperated-but-fond look and continues, "And then we're going to cook some real food. Because take-aways do not constitute a balanced diet. No, Dustin," she adds quickly, before the curly-haired teen can chime in. "Not even if there's vegetables on the pizza."

He manages an abashed look, but gives Shane a wink when Tori's gaze is elsewhere. It brings a small smile to the air ninja's face and there's a sense of comfort as he joins the two of them in cleaning the apartment. The whole apartment; the petite woman not being satisfied with just getting rid of the junk but in removing the layer of dust and making the kitchen suitable to be cooked in, even stripping the bedding off the bed and taking a load of washing down to the laundry.

It doesn't hurt as much as Shane was expecting.

Even the trip to the supermarket isn't as painful as he thought it would be; Tori taking charge of the shopping while Dustin takes charge of the air ninja, managing to distract him from his depression with a constant stream of chatter, reminding him that he does have a life outside the apartment walls.

Dinner that evening isn't anything fancy, but Shane has to admit the food tastes a lot better than the take-out he's been living on. The apartment is full of life, of laughter, with the other two around; a stark change from the silence he's been living in for days. At first it's nice, and then it's too much.

He needs space – quiet, just a moment to himself – so when the meal is finished, the air ninja volunteers to do the washing up. It's as he's standing at the sink, hands immersed in hot, soapy water, that the pain finds him again, as alive and as vivid as it was at the beginning and he's cast back into the black pit he's been inhabiting since he accepted the fact that Hunter is gone.

The tears, hot and salty, spring to his eyes and roll down his face to drip off his chin into the dish water. He barely hears the light tread of footsteps behind him, until a pair of thin, tanned arms wrap themselves around him, a warm body pressing into his back and a blonde head resting on his shoulder.

"Oh Shane," Tori's voice is small and sad but also filled with love and comfort, that makes him go weak at the knees because he's missed someone holding him so much and it's Tori, it's his sister and he's been pushing her away but really he just wants someone to… to hold onto. He turns into her and clings on, seeking comfort through her strength.

"It hurts."

"I know," she whispers, her breath soft on his ear and she kisses his temple gently, strong fingers caressing his hair. There's understanding and the barest hint of pain in her voice and he realises with a dull thud that she hasn't seen Blake since New Year. He'd forgotten…

Guilt finds him then; the knowledge that she's been alone, missing her boyfriend and instead of having her friends support her, she's been the one trying to support them, holding them together, even though she must be hurting too.

"How do you do it?" he asks, voice cracking.

There's a pause before Tori replies, her fingers hesitating in their stroking. "One day at a time." She takes a breath, pulling back to give him a watery smile. "Just keep breathing. It… gets easier."

"I don't want it to get easier. I want him."

His voice finally breaks and she draws him back into an embrace, shushing him gently. There's the sound of footsteps from the living room and then another pair of arms wrap themselves around him and Tori, supporting them both. When the tears subside, it's Dustin who guides them back to the sofa, who makes them hot chocolate and who finds a trashy film to have on in the background. As the three of them curl up together on the sofa Shane realises that while Hunter may be gone, he still has his family with him. And he loves them for it.

That evening marks a turning point, of sorts; a lifting of some of the grief and a releasing of some of the pressure that's been tightening his chest, as if he's been underwater, drowning, for weeks and finally he's managed to raise his head above the surface enough to take a breath of fresh air. He isn't okay, but he's beginning to realise he will be, that there will be an end to this and he does have a future. Even if it's a future without Hunter.

Despite that, it takes Tia's birthday two months later to shatter his final remnants of self-obsession and remind him that he wasn't the only one Hunter hurt when he left.

They'd promised her at New Year, Hunter and him, to take her to San Diego Zoo; their very own mini road trip. It becomes just the two of them, Shane picking her up from outside the family home with barely a word of greeting to his mother.

Tia's excited to see him, chattering the whole way down to San Diego about what she's been up to and how school's been going and a dance competition she won in June that he hadn't attended. Shane feels a twinge of guilt for his absence at what is an important part of his little sister's life. He tries to pretend it's his parents' fault, that he doesn't feel welcome at these events and his presence would have just been awkward and unfair on her, but if he's being honest, Shane'd had trouble dealing with the nine-year-old's reaction to Hunter's departure. How can he explain to her why the blond has gone, when he doesn't fully understand it himself?

"Is Hunter meeting us there?"

Tia's question as they pull off the interstate comes out of the blue and he twists in his chair to see his little sister looking at him with guileless innocence. He shakes his head, pushing down the flutter of pain that threatens because he can't deal with it today; today is about Tia.

"No, he's not," he says evenly, expecting her to react but she doesn't, just nods and switches back to chatting about the animals she wants to see at the zoo. Shane's surprised by her careless response, but too relieved to give it much thought as he finds a space to park his truck.

As Shane buys their entrance tickets he catches Tia watching the crowds, staring fiercely at people as they pass, as if looking for someone in particular. He has a moment of panic as he thinks she's waiting for his parents, before remembering his mother had said something about being at a function that afternoon and he can breathe again. The last thing he wants is his parents trying to make this a family day. They haven't been a family in years… but it's a horrible thing to come to terms with.

Tia seems to have their whole route around the park planned and drags Shane from enclosure to enclosure, keeping up a steady babble throughout the morning. They're looking at the tigers when her stomach lets out a rumble and Shane grins. "Lunch time?"

The dark curly head nods enthusiastically, slipping her hand into his and skipping along next to him. "I'm starving. Will Hunter have lunch with us too?"

"Tia…" Shane tries to keep the smile on his face but it feels more like a grimace, locked in place. "Hunter's not coming."

He braces himself for the tantrum but instead he's met with a vague smile. "Okay," she says, as if agreeing with him and then adds, "Can I have fries? Mom doesn't let me have them now you're not at home."

"…Sure?" Shane is once again thrown by her calm acceptance and he treats her warily, still waiting for the explosion but by late afternoon there's been no further mention of Hunter and Shane relaxes, enjoying the day with his sister and taking pleasure from her childish joy in the animals. They find themselves back at the entrance and the dark-haired man grins as he catches Tia trying to hide a yawn behind her hand.

"Home time?" he asks her, but she shakes her head furiously.

"Not yet," she protests, pulling away from him.

Shane sighs. "But we've seen all the animals now. And I promised mom you wouldn't be out too late. We still have to drive back to Blue Bay. Come on."

He holds out a hand, waiting for her to take it with a grumble. Instead her face falls into a frown and she jams her hands in her pockets, shaking her head again.

The air ninja adopts a stern tone, "Tia, come on. We're leaving."

"No, don't wanna," she yells, throwing herself onto the ground in a huff and Shane's painfully aware of the stares of passers-by, feeling his face turn red in embarrassment.

Looks like the tantrum he's been expecting all afternoon has finally arrived.

He wants to yell at her, let her know she's causing a scene, but from experience he knows that'll only make things worse. And as much as he complains Tianna is annoying, this behaviour isn't like her at all. She wouldn't act up without good reason, though Shane is oblivious as to why. He rubs a hand across his face and takes a calming breath, crouching down to her level.

"Ti, what's the matter?" he asks gently, taking her little hand in his.

She juts out her bottom lip and looks firmly at the ground, not wanting to answer him. The air ninja waits patiently, know she'll reply in her own time. Finally she looks up at him and Shane is horrified to see his sister's brown eyes filled with tears.

"He didn't come," she whispers. "He promised and he didn't come."

He doesn't need to ask who.

"I told you he wasn't," Shane says helplessly, unsure how to deal with the upset little girl.

She sniffs. "I know. But I thought he might. I wanted him to be here."

Her bottom lip trembles again and Shane pulls her into a hug, realising with sadness that she's been looking forward to her birthday in the hope that Hunter would come back for it; come back for her.

"I'm sorry; I wanted him to be here too," he murmurs and she pulls back to look up at him.

With all the wisdom of a nine-year-old, Tia replies, "He'll come back. He will."

She sounds so certain and there's an ache in Shane's chest, a desperate desire to believe her, but the adult within him knows it's just a fantasy. But it's a fantasy he's willing to let her cling to for as long as possible.

"You know what this calls far?" he says, barely a tremble to his voice as he presses a kiss onto the top of her head. "Ice cream."

She manages a grin at him and clings to his hand tightly as he helps her to her feet. Ice cream acquired, they finally leave the zoo without any further drama. Tia falls asleep in the car on the way home, leaving Shane in familiar silence, which he's starting to hate. It's oppressive and all-encompassing and he doesn't want to live in silence anymore.

He doesn't go back to Hunter's apartment that night. Instead he drops Tia off at her home – avoiding his parents – and finds his way to Tori's; falling asleep in her arms as he has done many times since he realised that she understood, and that she was hurting too. Though their circumstances are very different, they both know the pain that comes from missing a lover, and they both know it's night times that are the worst.

It's the sorrow of going to bed alone; no strong arms holding you, wrapping you in warmth and comfort, no soft hair tickling your face, no gentle breath on your neck. No fighting for covers or waking up with a leg flung carelessly over yours. No being teased for snoring or teasing them for sleep-talking; no lazy, tender kisses nor fiery, electric ones that make you gasp and fall in love over and over again. No feeling another person's heart beating; the rise and fall of their chest in sync with your own…

There's just nothing.

And that's hard to deal with.

A lot harder than Shane ever expected it could be. It scares him how quickly and easily he fell for Hunter, and how quickly he became attuned to the other man, so used to him being there. He never thought losing Hunter would be like losing a part of himself.

Sometimes he reaches out, in that moment between dreaming and waking, thinking Hunter is there, being so sure he's next to him but when consciousness dawns there's just a cold, empty spot where his boyfriend should be, and the pain finds him again anew. A gut-wrenching, all-encompassing pain that leaves him shaking and crying. Some days he can pull himself together, swallow down the hurt and get on; other days the only thing he can do is draw his knees up to his chest, pull himself into as small a ball as possible and hide from the world.

Those days become less common as time goes by, but they can still blindside him. It can be the smallest of things; catching a whiff of someone wearing Hunter's aftershave, the roar of a motorbike engine, the sight of a blond head in the crowd… and the pain is brought back to life.

He's beginning to think he'll never see Hunter again.

He needs something to cling onto, something to rekindle lost hope, something to believe in. It's late August before that something appears.

After a long day of teaching at the Academy, Shane heads out for a run to clear his head. Even with the sun setting, the temperature has not dropped much, so Shane makes for the beach, hoping the evening sea breeze will take some edge off the heat. The boardwalk is busy and Shane soon tires of having to dodge around people, slowing to a walk to make his way through the crowds.

They thin out as he reaches the northern end of the boardwalk and the air ninja finds himself walking past the bench where he first kissed Hunter. He hasn't been back since his boyfriend left and as he runs a hand across the storm-battered wooden surface, the pain returns; a dull ache this time, some of its sharpness lost, a blunted knife-edge.

Shane wonders if this is what it's going to be like; the hurt fading until nothing remains but a distant memory.

Strangely he wants the pain back; he wants that feeling because it's still Hunter and without it… Without it, it would be like his last link to Hunter is gone. He's losing his connections to him, slowly but surely everything is ebbing away until only thing remaining, the only thing he has left, is his grief. And now even that is leaving him and he doesn't want to let it go.

Because the pain means it was real, it happened; for a brief while he'd found happiness and if it goes he will truly have nothing left of Hunter.

He drops heavily onto the bench, chin resting on his hands as he stares out across the sand to the sea beyond, barely visible in the grey twilight. His thoughts drift, focusing on nothing in particular, settling on no one thing, so he finds himself jumping in surprise when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He pulls it free, staring at it for a moment before answering.

The caller ID reads 'Blake'.