I turned on the water and began undressing, my fingers tracing lightly over the scarring on my thigh. I sighed, sadly, before slipping the mask off and putting it on the counter. I stepped into the hot water, hoping it would calm me. But I was so anxious, there was no calm.

I guess in my confusion, I forgot to lock the door. I could feel eyes on me. Sean. Who else could it be?

I bolted, grabbing a hand towel quickly, and threw it over my face. "What the hell!?" I yelled. He had been peeking through a slit in the doorway and when I noticed, he slammed it shut.

I was so embarrassed. I couldn't believe it! How could he? He knew how sensitive I was about this!

I rushed through the rest of my shower, but dreaded being done. I didn't want to deal with this right now. I began dressing, with my back to the door. Just as I was about to put my extra mask on, I could feel fingers stopping me. He pried mine away and slipped the mask back off. He tried to turn me around, but I couldn't help but fight it. I didn't want him to see!

"Kane... Glenn, please."

I dropped my head and sighed, defeatedly. The thing is, I knew Sean. He was persistant. He would keep trying. Hell, this wasn't the first time he tried. So I caved. I slowly turned, expecting a gasp of disgust, an exclamation of horror or two... but his thumb just stroked over the scars on my cheekbone.

"You don't have to hide from me."

Our eyes met, and a small smile played in the corners of his mouth. "Sean, I..."

His lips cut me off, pulling my head down into a tender kiss. I couldn't believe it. Was I dreaming? I'd pictured it so many times before, but... it was finally happening. His tongue traced my lips and I tentatively granted him access. I couldn't help but moan lightly as he bit my bottom lip. He pulled away, gasping for air momentarily, before returning his mouth to my neck, nibbing and sucking at my skin.

"Oh god, Sean..." my hands dug into his hair, pulling at the dark locks.

"You like that?" He asked, voiced drenched with lust.

"God yes." I confirmed, "I do, but... maybe we..."

"Should slow it down a bit?" He asked. I nodded in agreement, grabbing his hand from my chest and lacing my fingers with his. He smiled, beaming up at me.

"So, you don't care about them? My scars?"

"Everyone has scars to deal with." He replied, "Yours are just physical instead of emotional." Oh, I had those too. If only he knew... If only he knew why Mark really hated him, "Besides..." he added, "Name one dude in our business who doesn't have scars."

"Big difference." I abjected. "Burns are a lot worse."

"Did you forget you shot me in the face with a fireball?" He smiled. My jaw dropped. I totally had! I had forgotten all about that. But honestly, how could that even compare? He had a tiny half-an-inch scar by his eye that disappeared with some doctor strength scar cream. Mine weren't going away that easily.

I know he said it jokingly, but it wasn't a funny subject to me. I'd been made fun of enough and there didn't need to be more jokes.

I decided to change the subject to the question I was really wondering the most right now, "So... what does this mean then?"

"I don't know. It's all so new. I mean, my feelings aren't new, i guess it just took me a long time to figure out how I felt... And I've never felt this way about a guy, a girl... anyone before. It's usually just casual, no real emotion." He rambled, "I just know when I'm with you, I feel like I can do anything... take on anything, anyone... I'm safe. I'm where I belong,"

My eyes welled with tears. How did words so beautiful come from a guy whose most famous catchphrase was... well, you know.

I grabbed him and pulled him into my chest, stroking his cheekbone with my thumb. "Yep. You belong right here." I replied, beaming down at him.

He looked up at me and said, "I knew I'd love that smile of yours." I gave him a light kiss and told him to wait for me in the bedroom. I took care of a few necessities, and prepared for what was to come. I was excited, nervous, scared... I wasn't sure I was ready. And I'm sure since he just got out of the hospital, that he probably shouldn't either. So, I knew I was going to have to keep my limitations, but it would be hard.

When I went back in there, he had unpaused the TV and I was throwing The Acolytes out of the ring and asking for a microphone.

"You talked there too!?" He was shocked. I had pulled out that voicebox and said, "You hurt Sean. You hurt me. Undertaker, Big Show... tonight I'm going to hurt you."

He smiled, shaking his head, "I don't know why you gotta use that thing, man. You talk just fine without it."

My voice was pretty gravelly, kind of like Mark's but a little worse. I still got sore throats when I talked too much, so yelling earlier when I saw him lifeless on the mat had my throat shot right now. It wasn't nearly as bad as Vince wanted me to portray it. He liked the voicebox, the 'machine' like quality it gave me. And that voice without it, he chose so I'd seem more like a monster. He basically described Kane as the WWF's Frankenstein's monster. He wanted people to love him, but everyone's afraid of him. If only he knew how true that was...

"Let me guess... Vince, right?" He asked, and I chuckled softly.

"How'd you know?"

"Just sounds like one of his bad ideas." He replied, Jesus! He could almost read my thoughts now, I swear!

I sat on the bed and settled back, laying with one arm lazily behind my head. He laid in the nook of my arm and snuggled up to me. "Did you kick their asses for me, baby?"

I laughed, "Well, you know I tried to, my dear."

He yawned and said, "Well, that's a big ass fucking mountain, but we'll figure out how to climb it." I closed my eyes and smiled, yawning too. Sleep came much easier that night, and I somehow knew it would for many nights to come.