I don't own any WWE wrestlers or figures utilized in this story. This is all from the mind of a brilliant scientist.
Lance happily strummed his guitar as he sat on the living room floor enjoying every note that passed through his ears. He couldn't help but to smile as his little fingers ran across the strings. It was such a sweet sound. Sweet. Lance loved how that sounded in his head. He smiled. Oh yeah, this was a sweet sound. He loved how he could disappear into the song and forget where he was, or all of his problems. Some times he'd even be able to imagine his life with another family who made him breakfast, played the guitar and sang with him, and gave him lots of hugs and kisses. He laughed out loud at himself, yeah right. Mark would probably lock him in the garage if Lance tried to hug him.
He shook his head, as far as Mark was concerned Lance was already locked in the garage. All he used him for was a farm hand or an instant baby sitter. He sighed, that's what he was supposed to be doing anyway. It was Marks' day with the girls which of course meant he spent that Lance was either left out of activities or made to watch the five and two year olds. He blew out a breath, at least with Mark focusing on the girls he wasn't yelling at him. Lance smiled, at least there was a bright side. His smiled deepened as he remembered what his mother always used to tell him, 'you could see the sun in a tornado'. Even though his parents weren't very nice, there were still moments where he knew that they did care about him, even if it was only a little bit. He gently began strumming a new song he was working on, he called it 'rainy day'. Lance was very particular about how he wanted his songs to sound, and this one had to be perfect. It was the one he was going to use to show Mark just how he felt. Then he'd listen and understand. It hadn't happened the last time, but this time it'd be different. It had to. Lance moved his finger up and down the fret board, he cursed as he plucked a bad chord. He heard grunting.
"I heard that, boy." Lance shook his head in frustration and looked up at Mark who had his hand extended. He looked back down at the cherished piece of wood in his hand. Mark snapped at him. "I ain't got all day." Lance sighed in frustration and weakly handed the guitar to Mark. Mark looked at it and then back at the little boy who had tears in his eyes. He shook his head, there was no way this was his kid. How was this possible? He grunted. "Knock that off." Lance wiped his nose and eyes quickly. Mark rubbed his eyes with his free hand and grabbed Lance with the other. Mark grunted as he began walking down the hallway with Lance being practically drug behind him. "I thought I told ya to stay with your sisters." Lance sighed, Mark had said that, but he was bored, all they did was play with dolls and stupid girl stuff. Mark grunted, why wasn't the kid answering him? "Well," he said roughly. Lance used his free arm to wipe his face.
"I was bored, they don't do nothin'." Mark grunted.
"Those are you little sisters." Lance sighed.
"I know, but..." the spoke stopped talking abruptly when he saw Mark glaring down angrily at him green eyes blazing. Mark shook his head and stopped he opened the door to the playroom where the girls were. As soon as the door open the girls dropped their dolls and ran towards Mark.
"Daddy!" Mark easily dropped Lance's arm and used both of his hands to pepper the girls with kisses and hugs. Lance sighed as he stood off to the side feeling awkward. He watched as Mark smiled at the two young girls he adored. Lance shook his head, they were a family, and he was just an addition. An unwanted addition. He quietly walked over towards his small corner of the room and sat down on the floor. This was their time and he'd just leave them alone. Lance quietly played with his action figures. He wiped a lone tear that fell down his cheek. Why didn't Mark treat him like that? He shook his head, why cry when he knew that would never happen? So much for fitting in. Lance stared at the action figures in his hand grunted. He hated those things, but he knew that playing with them made his dad happy. Lance glanced back over at the trio who was giggling at something and then down to his Stone Cold action figure. Maybe if Steve was his dad, he'd be wanted. Lance chuckled, his dad? Yeah, right. He was stuck with Mark, whether he liked it or not. Mark would be ecstatic to know that Lance wasn't there anymore. Lance shrugged, he'd be ecstatic to know he wasn't there anymore.
"Lance," Mark said roughly. Lance looked up.
"Yessir." Mark set Gracie on the ground. Mark looked pointedly at Lance.
"I'm going into the office. Stay here and play with yer sisters." Lance nodded slowly sensing the grit in the man's voice. Mark kissed the girls. "Be good, I'll be back later." Lance shook his head and turned towards his small wrestling ring, of course he got no kiss.
An hour later, Lance had discovered two things, his sister hated him, and he hated her. Lance shook his head, Chasey was just like Mark. She hated music, singing, drawing, or anything else that Lance loved and used it to make him feel even more like an outsider. "You're not one of us," she kept saying over and over. And each time she said it, Lance's blood boiled more and more. His name was Lance Calway, he was one of them, he was! Even if he didn't feel like it. Gracie came up to him and tugged on his leg. The small two year old with dark brown curly hair looked up at him. Lance smiled and looked at Gracie, she looked so much like Mark it wasn't even funny. He poked the little girl's side causing her to giggle. Lance smiled. Gracie hugged his legs with her fat chubby little arms. Lance warmed up. Maybe he did have someone to love him, after all. Chasey stomped over to the scene angrily pulling Gracie away from him causing the little girl to squeal angrily. Lance grunted, he was really getting tired of her. "Stay away from her," the little girl growled. Lance rolled his eyes.
"She's my sister too." Chasey was in his face, well as close as she could get with the height difference. The little girl shook her head stubbornly.
"No she's not! She's mine, you don't count." Lance sighed and reached for Gracie only to have Chasey push him out of the way. Lance snapped and pushed her back. Gracie flew across the room and fell on top of her plastic doll house. Lance gasped, what had he done? Chasey screamed as tears poured from her eyes. She ran from the room screaming for Mark. Lance stood there petrified, he hadn't meant to. Lance's hands began to shake as he heard Mark's angry footsteps thunder up the stairs. He tried not to cry but he couldn't help it, he was dead.
Lance sniffed as he heard another clap of thunder outside. He was sitting in his room in the middle of his bed praying that the storm would end soon. He wished he could strum his guitar and sing to himself. Another clap of thunder rang throughout the house. He screamed and covered his ears. Tears were pouring down his face now, he was so scared.
He saw a shadow move on the floor. He gasped and closed his eyes. The boy started rocking to himself. He needed to get out of here. He quickly started humming but the sound didn't soothe his nerves. He was beyond scared. He wanted someone to comfort him, anyone. He gulped, and looked out of the window. He wasn't supposed to leave his room. He was supposed to "think about what he'd done." Lance quickly wiped his blurry face. He took a deep breath, Mark was his daddy, he'd forgive him and protect him. Lance took a deep breath, he'd have to. Lance slowly took a deep breath and swung his legs over his bed. He quickly began walking towards the door. He didn't want to be in that room when the thing came for him. As fast as he could without running through the house he walked towards Mark's room. He knocked on the door and peeked in. He saw Mark sitting up with Gracie on his chest and Chasey laying on his legs. Lance smiled, Mark was a good daddy. He'd let him stay, after all the girls were already in there. Feeling a little better about the claps of thunder that rang throughout the house Lance walked closer to the bed. He took a deep breath and hopped into the bed.
"What are you doing?" Mark said gruffly. Lance looked at Mark who was looking at him with one eye open.
"Um..." Mark rolled his eyes and rubbed them so that he could see the little boy. Mark sighed, Lance was riddled with fear and he could tell that he had been crying. Mark was disgusted, why couldn't the kid just learn to be a man? He sighed as Lance settled into the bed with them. Mark shook his head. "Unh uh, go back to bed." Lance's head snapped towards Mark. The little boy started crying.
"But, but they're here," he said motioning toward the sleeping girls. Mark shrugged.
"They're girls, you're a boy." Lance's bottom lip quivered causing Mark's disgust to rise.
"What did I say about that?" Lance angrily snorted up his snot and wiped his face.
"Can I stay please, I won't cry no more." Mark laughed, yeah right. "Please Daddy?" Mark rolled his eyes.
"I've told you about that." Lance nodded, hoping that he wouldn't be forced to go back into his room. "You're fine, now get out of here." Lance felt himself break on the inside.
"Please?" Mark grunted.
"No." Lance shook his head. "Don't make me get up." Lance sighed and rolled out of the bed. He quickly fled from the room. He just didn't love him. Lance ran downstairs and hid himself underneath the stairs. At least that way he could wallow in peace. Why didn't his daddy want him?
Lance woke up the next morning to someone stroking his face. He closed his eyes tightly and then reopened them. "Sweetie?" Lance rubbed his eyes. "Lance?"
"Ms. Sara?" The brown haired woman smiled at him again stroking his face.
"Yeah, Sweetie, why are you down here all alone?" Lance looked around and sighed, he'd fallen asleep on the floor. The woman shook her head, at the sight. Lance's hair was disheveled and she could tell he'd spent the night crying. "Were you scared of the storm?" Lance nodded.
"Uh huh." Sara sighed.
"Why didn't you go and stay with your daddy?" Lance started crying all over again.
"He wouldn't let me." Sara cursed under her breath. Mark was a piece of work.
"Where are the girls?" Lance sniffed.
"In his room." Sara shook her head, if Mark wasn't careful he was going to break this kid. She stuck her hands under his arm pits and pulled the boy into her arms. Lance was scared at first, but relaxed in her arms. He felt so comfortable there. He felt himself being let down out of her arms. He looked up at woman.
"You stay out here while I talk to you daddy." Lance nodded a yes. He gulped as he heard yelling. He started humming. He hated that noise. It made him hurt. Daddy had always told him it was his fault mommy and daddy fought. Lance began to cry. He covered his ears with his hands. Please stop yelling. The door flew open a few moments later revealing an angry Mark who scoffed at the boy and stomped down the stairs angrily. Lance looked around scared. Sara walked out of the room and looked down at Lance. She shook her head, the little boy was so sad.
"What's wrong with sir?" Sara rolled her eyes, of course he couldn't call the man daddy, that'd be too feminine. Sara knelt down to Lance's height. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
"You're going to come and stay with me and the girls for a little while." Lance's eyes grew large. He started to cry.
"No! Why? Please make him come back, tell him I'll be good and won't cry no more. I promise!" Sara sighed and picked the little boy up into her arms. Lance wrapped his arms around her waist as she walked towards his room.
"It's nothing you did, sweetie. It's just your daddy doesn't understand how to be a daddy to you right now." Lance shook his head with tears still streaming down his face, he didn't believe it. "So we're going to have a sleepover, ok? Does that sound fun?" Lance kept his eyes glued to the floor as Sara packed some clothes for him into a small bag. All he did was shake his head weakly in response. Sara rubbed his head and quickly kissed the boy's head. "It'll be alright, Sweetie." Lance wasn't so sure. He knew why he was leaving, Mark hated him. Lance grunted, and he hated him. As far as Lance was concerned he'd never have a father, never.