A/N: It's taken me a tad bit longer than I would have liked to get this chapter out, but here it is. I own no one, by the way, Vincent Kennedy McMahon does.

As the days wore on, Glenn began to worry more and more about Mark. He hadn't seen the many this down in years. After Sara walked on him and Glenn had persuaded Mark to come back, Mark had become more distant with the others than he had ever done before. Even Glenn was finding it hard to get Mark to speak to him. The others noticed the change in Mark, and questioned it to Glenn whenever they got the chance. Glenn couldn't bring himself to tell them exactly why Mark was so down. He had promised Mark he wouldn't breathe a word about it to anyone in fear of the media getting their hands on the news and making it seem worse than it truly was.

One afternoon a few weeks after the incident, Glenn was walking to the men's locker room when he noticed a small group of wrestlers standing outside the door, one of them banging on it. Glenn walked over to them, catching small statements like 'I can't believe he locked us out!' and 'What is his damn problem anyways?' He walked up to the group, and crossed his arms over his chest, clearing his throat as he did. The group of them jumped and turned, glad it was only Glenn.

"Jeez Glenn, you nearly gave us a heart attack," stated Phil Brooks as he held his hand over his heart, feeling the pounding of it beneath his hand. Glenn glanced over at him before looking at the rest of them, curiosity burning inside of him.

"What's going on?" he questioned, looking from one face to the next. They seemed to avoid his gaze, looking at each other or at the floor instead. Glenn stepped closer to them, clearing his throat once more. "I believe I just asked a question. I would like to hear the answer now," he continued on, pressuring them more into answering.

"Mark's locked the door, he won't let anyone in." answered Matt Hardy, his hand still raised to the door. It was him that Glenn had seen knocking at the door. Glenn looked over at him then at the door. He waved the others away and then stepped in front of the door. He raised his hand and knocked a few times at the door, then started pounding when he got no answer.

"Damn it Mark, open the damn door!" shouted Glenn, his annoyance level increasing drastically. He could hear shuffling on the other side of the door, and then it opened. Unfortunately, it opened long enough for Mark to throw everyone's bags out before slamming the door shut once more, locking it again. Glenn groaned, rubbing his head where a bag had come into contact with it.

"What's his problem anyways? It's not we are the ones to blame for his sudden mood change!" said Drew McIntrye, his accent covering his words heavily. The others looked at him for a moment or two before figuring out what he just said.

"Don't speak anymore Drew, we can't understand you," chimed in Chris Jericho, shoving Drew away from the group. Drew growled softly, but was pulled away from the group by Eric Escobar and a few others. The rest of the group grabbed their bags then walked away, leaving Glenn alone outside of the door. He turned his attention back to the door sighing once more as he knocked again.

"Come on Mark, it's only me now, open the door," he commented as he knocked, trying his best to get his friend to open the door already. He heard no movement though, so he gave up, figuring Mark would come to him if he needed him. Glenn grabbed his own bag and walked away, heading for the back entrance. He got into his rental car and drove to the hotel down the road where they were staying. He left the car and walked into the hotel, avoiding the few fans that were there before the show. He took the elevator up to the sixth floor then walked to the room he shared with Mark. He entered the room and shut the door behind him before walking to one of the beds and crashing onto it, falling asleep a few moments later.

That evening, Glenn was awoken by a smash of glass in the bathroom. He jumped off the bed as fast he could, and was just in time to see a black jacket whip out the door. Glenn walked to the bathroom and peaked in. The counter was littered with pieces of glass, and there was a large crack in the mirror about the size of Mark's fist. He sighed lightly and went back into the bedroom, gathering his things before leaving to head back to the arena. He was on his way there when he heard his phone ring. Reaching for it, Glenn managed to grab it while stopped at a red light.

"Hello," he answered into the phone, driving off once more. He could hear heavy breathing on the other side then a male voice.

"Hey Glenn, it's Phil. Um, Mark is kind of upset I think. He just smashed a few lockers and well now he's on his way to start his match and um, he said he's going to kill his opponent, literally. I'm not sure what the guy's problem is. Matt tried to talk to him but Mark threw him into one of the workers backstage, and well he did that to Chris and Drew as well. You better get down here before Mark gets fired," stated Phil's voice over the phone before the line went dead. Mentally cursing, Glenn hung up his phone, and pulled into the arena's parking garage. He parked and went inside with his bag, hurrying to the locker room.

Once there, he noticed that the lockers that Mark had smashed were those of the people that had been outside earlier that very day, including Glenn's. Groaning to himself, Glenn changed quickly into his wrestling attire then left to head towards the ring. Mark had a match tonight with Phil; there was no way Phil was going to be able to survive if Mark was really this bad. Glenn stopped short of gorilla position, his attention caught by a monitor. There, on the screen, was Mark holding a bloody and bruised Phil. The match hadn't even started and wasn't due to start for another five minutes according to his watch. Glenn stared in horror as Mark threw Phil into the mat then left the ring, his music blasting through the arena. There was no way that match was happening tonight, thought Glenn. He needed to find Mark and soon, or else Mark would have no job left to cling to.