I don't own any WWE wrestlers or figures utilized in this story. This is all from the mind of a brilliant scientist.
Three and a half years later
"Lance, get the door!" Eleven year old Lance Calaway rolled his eyes at the voice behind the bedroom door. Of course Lance would have to get it, poor precious Mark couldn't be troubled to get the door. No that would be too much on his back. Chewing his lip Lance set his guitar aside and pulled himself off of the ground. He walked towards the door. The last few years had proven difficult for him. First there was him moving in with Sara and the girls for almost a year. It was great for the most part, but Lance found himself missing his father miserably. It seemed that no matter what good stuff came in Lance's life the ache to have his father's acceptance never went away. Not even his now doting sisters or his award winning talent shows. Somehow he just needed his father. Most would think that would mean that Lance shouldn't have been surprised the day Mark showed up with papers ready to take him back. You'd think it would have been just what they needed, to be separate, but it wasn't. If anything Mark was worse and Lance was dying a little everyday because of it. He shook his head, there was no way he'd be able to withstand this for much longer. None.
Lance finally stepped to the door glancing out the window to see who it was. "Who is it?"
"Sara, sweetheart." Lance smiled and opened the door. Sara looked at the boy almost as tall as she was with his short hair, seashell necklace, and cargo shorts across his skinny legs. She shook her head as he ruffled his short hair. "I thought your dad was letting you grow it out," she said hugging the boy. Lance shrugged.
"I got a C in math so he made me cut it." Sara shook her head, Mark was still being too hard on the boy. Sara walked into the house and looked around. She pulled out two tickets.
"This is for the show at the Loft on Friday night, would you like to go with me?" Lance looked around for Mark and then smiled broadly. Sara smiled at him, he was a quiet boy who really didn't speak unless you spoke to him first. She loved that about him, his demeanor was as almost as refreshing as a summer spring, and almost as rare too.
"I'd love to," he deflated a bit almost breaking Sara's heart. "But you know he's not going to let me." Sara smiled, she could handle that.
"That's why we're not going to tell him." Lance smiled confused. "Your dad is taking that woman out for dinner on Friday so you're staying with us." Lance smiled and the two high fived. Lance knew that if it wasn't for Ms. Sara and his sisters his life would suck more than it already did. He didn't know what he would do without them.
Sara looked into Lance's eyes. She sighed, he seemed so hurt. She pulled the boy close to her and kissed his head. "What's wrong, bubba?" Lance sighed.
"He's making me play football again." Sara shook her head. If you looked at Lance you'd know that hitting someone was the furthest thing from his mind. He was a sensitive soul who enjoyed drawing and singing not bashing people's skulls in. She couldn't believe Mark was still at it. She couldn't fathom how he could make Lance do this, again. You'd think after the last two seasons of Lance refusing to tackle anyone that Mark would have given it up, but no, he was forcing the poor boy to play yet again. She shook her head, sometimes she wondered who this man was.
"Want me to talk to him?" Lance sighed and shook his head slowly. He rubbed the back of his neck, that would only make Mark madder. Then he would say he was sending a woman to fight his battles. Sara sighed, she just wanted to kick Mark's face in sometimes.
"Who is it Lance?"
"Ms. Sara," he said stepping away from the woman as his father as he came down the stairs. Mark nodded at Sara upon entering the room.
"What are you doing here?" Sara rolled her eyes.
"It's nice to see you again too Mark." Mark raised his eyebrow. "Anyway, I just came to drop off some art supplies for Lance's art class." Mark grunted. "Can you help me get them out of the car?" Lance nodded.
"Yes ma'am." Mark held his hand up to stop the boy as he readied to walk past him. Mark looked between Sara and Lance with suspicion.
"I thought I said, no after school activities until that math grade comes up." Lance looked down, he didn't want to agitate Mark further. Sara rolled her eyes.
"Mark this is a specialized course, if he misses a few classes they'll kick him out." Mark shrugged. "They only accepted twenty students in the area and your son was one of them. Don't be an idiot Mark." Mark rolled his eyes and crossed his arm.
"My decision stands." Lance deflated, he felt tears come to his eyes. He quickly tried to shake them off, they would only make Mark angrier. He just kept his head down. Sara noticed Lance's sadness and kicked it up a notch, she wasn't going to let Mark ruin this boy's spirit. She would die before she let that happen. She dropped her hands to her side-fighting position-he wanted to play, let's go.
"But it's ok for him to play football everyday after school?" Mark looked at Lance with fire. Lance felt Mark's glare and gulped.
"Football is constructive."
"So is art." Mark ground his teeth. No it wasn't. Art was stupid, he narrowed his gaze at the woman.
"He's my son, not yours." Sara rolled her eyes.
"He's my daughter's brother and forgive me if I have a heart. Anyone with eyes can see that you're breaking this boy's spirit. He's only got so much give in him before you break him completely. Don't do this to him Mark. Don't." Lance grunted he hated feeling like he caused the problems that gave Chasey nightmares. He shifted. He couldn't take much more of this.
"Sara, just back off, alright? He's a boy, I'll handle him." Sara rolled her eyes.
"Like you just let me handle the girls?" She scoffed. "You're all over my business and everything I tell them." Mark grunted.
"Difference is, he is my son not ours. I can do what I want with him." Mark crossed his arms, "with that being said, no art classes until his grades come up and that's final." Sara sighed. "I mean it." The short woman shook her head angrily.
"Mark, you're being an idiot." Mark rolled his eyes.
"And you're being a busybody. If I've said it once, I've said it nine million times. Stay out of my business," he ground. Sara laughed, same old selfish Mark. She grabbed Lance's hand and kissed the top of his head.
"Be a good boy, I'll see you soon." She gave the boy a hug.
"Bye," he said weakly. Sara cast one last menacing glare at Mark and left. Mark closed the door and stared at his son. Mark shook his head, he was disgusted with the kid's choice of clothes. Ratty old cargo shorts and a seashell necklace? He rolled his eyes, some man he was making. Lance gulped. "Um, I have some chores to finish. So I'll go and do them, now, so yeah." Mark rolled his eyes and grabbed Lance's arm.
"Did you tell her about football?" Lance gulped. He shook his head. Mark rolled his eyes, his son was a lot of things, a good liar wasn't one of them.
"May I go now?" Mark sighed.
"Yeah." Lance practically fell as Mark let go of his arm. Mark always made him nervous. He sighed and attempted to quickly walk away.
"Oh and don't ever lie to me again, ya hear?" Lance nodded and walked back into the living room. He quickly glanced back to see if Mark had followed him and rejoiced on the inside when he hadn't. He smiled as he picked up his guitar, it had been a birthday gift from Steve last year. It was sick in short. It was a limited edition acoustic set up equipped with an amp plug. Lance was so happy that he had that thing. It was beautiful. He began to sing his song that made his soul weep.
"When a rainy day comes no man knows how long it will last, but when a rainy day ends the man was surprised as how long he'd last. A rainy day is one full of dark clouds and slime..." Lance opened his eyes when he realized that his phone was vibrating. He opened it quickly.
"Jeremy Lance Calaway," the man gave a gravely sarcastic laugh.
"Mark make you answer like that?" Lance rolled his eyes.
"Yes Mr. Steve."
"How many times do I have to tell you, Steve is fine." Lance snorted.
"Sir would kill me." Steve shook his head, he decided to not talk about Mark and his horrible parenting skills. He figured he'd use this time to invest into Lance, after all this kid would need all the help he could get. All the help.
"So how are you doing?" Lance shrugged then realized Steve couldn't see it.
"Ok, I guess." Steve nodded.
"Still in those art classes you were excited about?"
"No sir, he cancelled em cause I didn't do well in math." Steve shook his head.
"So is he getting you some help?"
"No sir, said I just need to concentrate more."
"So are you going to be in it again after your grades come up?" Lance closed his eyes quickly a took a deep breath, it was a way to stop the tears before they came. He sighed.
"No sir. He doesn't want me to, I'm playing football instead." Steve shook his head that Mark was one of a kind.
"What?" Steve paused. "Alright, you know what, I'm coming by next week and you and me will hang out, how does that sound?"
"Cool," he said. Steve nodded.
"Alright, it's a deal then. Oh hey, but don't tell your dad, got it?" Lance nodded.
"Yes sir." Steve hung up and Lance sighed, Steve would show up and all he would do was make Mark angrier than before. Thanks.
Lance sat on his bed strumming his guitar while skyping Chasey. He smiled, even though they lived in the same town it was rare that they saw each other aside from the usual Wednesday and every other weekend schedule that they were on. It was funny how close they were considering how bad their start was. Lance smiled, almost immediately after he'd moved in with them he and his sister hit it off. Although their interests were almost exact opposites their humor and desire to have fun was almost exactly the same. He smiled.
"So what did you do today?" Lance shrugged.
"The usual, play my guitar and draw." Chasey nodded.
"Did daddy yell at you?" Lance snorted.
"Doesn't he always," he said not looking up and strumming his guitar. Chasey sighed, she told her dad often to leave Lance alone, like he ever listened. Sometimes she wished that her dad would love Lance like he did her and her sister, but she knew that wasn't the case. It would never happen, because Mark would never change.
"Mama says you're spending the weekend with us." Lance looked up and smiled.
"Yeah, I am." Chasey smiled at her older brother.
"I miss you living here, we used to have so much fun." Lance nodded, that they did. Late night sleepovers, camping trips, pillow fights. He smiled at the distant memories. Sometimes he wished he could go back in time to that day when all he had to worry about was when his daddy was coming to get him. He sighed, those were the days. He heard the door open. He gulped and set his guitar on the floor.
"What's are ya doin?" Lance shrugged.
"Talkin to Chasey." Mark narrowed his eyes and walked towards the computer screen. He smiled at the sight.
"Hi daddy," the little girl said giggling. Mark smiled back.
"Hey sweetie. How are you?"
"Good, just talkin' to Lance 'fore I have to go to bed." Mark nodded.
"How's yer sister?"
"She's good, Mama is too. How's Michelle?"
"She's alright. Sweetie, I'll talk to you soon ok, tell yer brother goodnight." Chasey pouted.
"But daddy, we just started talkin." Mark grunted. "Fine, night Lance I'll talk to ya soon." She cast a menacing glare at Mark before the screen went blank. Lance smiled to himself, she was just as fiery as Mark was if not more. Sometimes it made him happy to know that he had a smaller version of Mark as his ally. It was a good deal indeed. Lance closed his computer screen and readied himself for bed. He shook his head, he'd never understand why he was forced to be in bed by nine o'clock every night.
"You ready fer bed?" Lance nodded. Mark sighed. "Boy, you know I uh love ya right?" Lance nodded, even if he didn't feel like it. "Well I do, that's why I'm tryin' to make a man outta ya." Lance nodded. "You understand?" Again Lance nodded feeling more like a bobble head doll each time. "Good, now get some sleep." Lance sighed as he watched Mark walk out of the room. All Lance ever wanted was for Mark to hug him before he went to bed. Lance wiped his eyes, did that mean he wasn't a man now? Lance shook his head, he'd never be the man Mark wanted him to be, no matter how hard he tried. Lance turned out the light and rolled onto his side. He felt tears begin to slide down his cheeks and for what seemed like the thousandth time in his life, Jeremy Lance Calaway, cried himself to sleep. He just wasn't good enough, no matter how hard he tried.