Later that night, after the show had ended, Mark had packed up his things and sat in silence until the only souls left in the building were those of his own and a few janitors. He picked up his back and walked down the halls to the near empty parking garage. There were still a few limos, he noticed as he walked over to his bike. He sat down and went to start the hunk of metal. When it wouldn't start he began to worry. He picked up the bag and keys and looked out to the opening of the garage. He walked over to the guy at the door and told him that his bike wasn't working. He guy told Mark that he would call for a truck to bring it to the hotel, which was in walking distance for Mark that night. He began on his way, looking around the town he knew so well. He stopped, bothered by the complete silence and turned to see his daughters' gazes after he had heard Gwendolyn giggling.
"We gotta talk."
"I know," Gwendolyn answered. She glanced over her shoulder
at her younger sister, now only twenty-one, and quickly looked back to her
father, "Bike trouble?"
"Yeah," Mark retorted, his eyes staring into those of
Drusilla's. She had an emotionless gaze upon her face. 'She's beautiful. Like
her mother…' he thought. He looked back at Gwendolyn. For the first time, he
noticed her features lighten as she looking into her eyes.
"You need to come home. The Darkside needs you. We
need you. Paul Bearer thinks he runs things now that you're gone. He's ordered
us to search endlessly for your books and not to return until we find them."
"I care, honestly."
"You should!" Gwendolyn cried out. Drusilla flinched a bit
and stepped back from her sister. "It's your realm! And you own daughters! You
are becoming weak in your quest as the American Bad Ass. Look at yourself! When
was the last time you held a title? Or won a match for that matter?"
Mark's features hardened, "Did it ever occur to you that I
like being like this? That I like kicking ass whether I win or not?!? Maybe life
isn't all 'I must win or I'm a failure' anymore! Did that ever occur to you?"
Mark paid no attention to the cameraman that had been taping the conversation
thus far.
"You are so weak," Gwen spat and stormed away. Mark looked
at Drusilla, who turned her head away from him and over to the river
highlighted by the street lamps. He sighed a bit.
"Dru…" he choked out, "I've missed you." He watched as his
daughter nodded emotionlessly. He turned to walk away, his hotel in the other
direction.
"Wait!" Drusilla cried out. She watched her father turn
around to face her. "I…I've missed you too." She quickly stepped into her
father's open arms. "I'm sorry."
Mark smiled, "It's not your fault. So, you on my side now?"
He looked down at his daughter, a little more than a foot shorter than him,
give or take a few inches or so.
Drusilla smirked, "I never left your side."
Mark smiled and he and his daughter started back to his
hotel room.