Oy, I swear it was like going into labor to get this bleepity bleep chapter out. Thank you for those of you who have stuck with this fic. :) It's been a long slow ride I know.

Chapter 15

I find myself in Mark's home. I've always loved his ranch. It's sprawled out on acres of land where I would love to just run barefoot and feel free once more, feel like Glen and not a mess of conflicts. His dogs come to greet me pressing their wet noses into my palm in attempt to illicit some petting from me. His Mastiff gives a low, good natured, 'woof' asking me politely to pet his wrinkled folds of skin. I give the dog a scratch behind the ears and his big hind paw thumps out its pleasure. The Rottweiler noses the Mastiff out of the way and slurps its big pink tongue across my hand. I give it a half hearted smile and pat its black head just above its brown spots that look like comical eyebrows. The dog gives my hand another good lick and then trots off after the Mastiff. I turn back to the ice tea in front of me and hang my head staring into it, as though it has all the answers I so desperately want.

"What's going on Glen?" Mark says pacing his kitchen. I'm hunkered over the table playing with the ice cubes in the glass of tea. I don't know where to start or how to explain myself, or rather how to explain Kane. I just sigh and shake my head slow from side to side. "Hmph, great answer."

"Look, just don't think I'm crazy okay?"

"Ha, you crazy? Never." Mark smirks at me teasing but his grin falters into a concerned frown when my lips don't even twitch in response. "Hey, I would never think that. You're my best friend." Mark pulls out a chair and sits next to me trying to capture my eyes with his inquisitive green ones. I won't let him, I look away and down into the brown liquid of iced tea.

"It's not me. It's Kane…Mark why didn't you ever tell me you had a brother!" I blurt out. I fly out of my chair and slam my fist down onto the table rattling the glass. "Damn it why didn't you tell me you and Moody based my Kane character off of your dead brother!"

I slowly squeeze my eyes closed and shake my head. That's it, just go and blurt out about Mark's dead brother who he never speaks of. I'm sure that will fly real well. I crack my eyes opened expecting to see Mark looking pale and upset or just plain pissed off. The look I see is almost worse. It tells me he doesn't know what the hell I'm talking about. His eyebrows are drawn together at the bridge of his nose and all those lines in his forehead form glaring too much over the years have formed into a confused expression.

"Glen, you know me. I don't have any brothers, what would give you an idea like that? What does this have to do with you or Kane?"

"Kane is real, he's more than a gimmick I know he is! He's showed me things, he wants me to know something and that's not even the half of it. Mark, Kane hurt Chris and Vince not me, Kane assaulted the cops not me, he's taking over my life! I-I'm becoming Kane and I don't want to!" I snap and pace around the kitchen much as Mark was doing moments ago. If I had hair I would pull it out. The Mastiff finds it amusing and decides to trail me as I pace. The Rott lays its big head in Marks lap until Mark acknowledges it and gives it a scratch.

"Glen, there's a simple explanation for all of this. I've dealt with it many times. You're gimmick is taking over. It's happened to me plenty of times. You just need time off and go to a good shrink and get your head back straight. It's no big deal." Mark shrugs. I rarely get mad at Mark, but my blood begins to boil.

"Heh, no big deal Mark? No big fucking deal huh! Did you see what I—what Kane did to Vince and Chris!"

"Glen you don't have to shout!" Mark gets up from his chair and comes closer to me reaching for my wrist.

"No." I jerk away from him and bore holes into him with my eyes. He has some nerve telling me this is no big deal. My life is being stolen out from under me and it's nothing to worry about. It happens to all of us! I try to calm myself, getting mad at him will get me nowhere. I need to make him understand. I need to hit some nerve that will make him remember. I sprint off to the living room for a moment and grab my bag that I left on Mark's couch. I come back into the kitchen with it and empty the contents onto Mark's dining table.

"Do you really have to put your underwear and sour smelling ring gear on my dining table?" Mark wrinkled his nose poking a finger at my wadded up clothes.

"Just let it slide can't you? You always eat in front of the t.v. anyway. Where is it, where?" I rummage around in the junk before finally finding what I was looking for. The button, the photo, and the lighter. He has to remember one of them. "This lighter, don't you remember? You gave it to me on my first day of school. We punked this kid named Robby who kept picking on me." I hold the lighter up to him hopefully. "Remember Mark? They used to call you The Undertaker's Kid and then just shortened to The Undertaker. We used to play all the time and you'd get me in trouble with mom and…" I shoved the lighter into his hand and curl his fingers around it. He shakes his head.

"Glen it's just a lighter. We're not brothers in real life, it's made up. It's all made up." His green eyes flicker with concern for me. I know what he's thinking. He's thinking I've lost it.

"Okay, you don't remember the lighter. That was a long, long time ago. We couldn't have been what, five and seven? Here, what about this?" I pry the lighter away from his hands and put it in my pocket. In its place I press the large button into his palm. He looks at it for a few moments then back up at me.

"It's a button."

"It's from Jake the bear, you must remember it Mark, hell I tried to kill you that night! You cried over that teddy bear for weeks and Mom whooped the snot out of me for it. You have to remember that Mark!" I grab fistfuls of his shirt and shake him desperately willing his brain to awaken and show him the memories I know he must have. He has to know something or else I really am no more than a lunatic and I know deep down that is not the case.

"We didn't even know each other as kids. I never met you until we were adults you know that." Mark removes my hands from his shirt gently. My eyes search his waiting for that glimmer that will signal the memory of us as children, of us as brothers. I know it's there somewhere. "It's just a lighter and a button, Glen you could have got this anywhere, please just take my advice and see a doctor. You can stay here at my place as long as you need to."

I turn back to the table and pull out my last weapon. If this doesn't do something for Mark then nothing will. I run my fingers over the worn and battered photo before turning it so Mark can see.

"What about this?" I ask in a near whisper. Mark takes the photo from me and holds it gently as though it is a baby.

"Hold on a minute." Mark puts the piece of photo on his counter top and disappears into the basement. After a few moments he comes back with a dust cover shoebox. With a puff of air he sends dust flying from the lid and into my face. He smirks at me as I cough and wave my hand around. He slides the top from the box and pulls out a few pictures and shuffles through them.

"Look." He says in a whisper. He's holding half of a black and white photo. My stomach knots up. I've seen it before. Mark lays his half next to mine completing the photo. He takes an awkward step back obviously thrown for a loop. "I-I've had that half of photo for ages. I never recognized anyone in it, don't even know who those people are. I tried to get rid of it but I just…kept feeling the need to hold onto it." He runs a nervous hand through his dark hair.

Mark pulls a drawer open and pulls out some clear tape. He fixes the torn picture and then turns it over. On the back it reads: CALAWAY FUNERAL PARLOR. MR. AND MRS. CALAWAY, MARK, KINCAID, AND GLENDA BURROW (PAULS SISTER) 1967.

"Who the hell is Kincaid, Glenda, and Paul?" Mark turns the photo back over and studies the faces intently. "Is this my family?"

"Well, it so happens I've done some research. Kincaid was Kane's original name but Mrs. Calaway changed it to Kane because that's what you called the baby and she thought it was cute. Glenda is Kane's aunt and Paul, well he's not exactly Paul. Paul was his nickname, Paul Bearer. His name is William Moody and he's Kane's father." I bring my eyes up to lock with Marks. I see only confusion.

"No." He shakes his head and tosses the picture into the garbage. I furrow my brow at him and follow as he flees the room as though running from some unseen enemy.

"Hey, what do you mean 'no'?" I stomp after him. Mark flops down onto the couch slouched over, he holds his head in his hands.

"You're not dragging me into this. This is not real, I mean Kane and the Undertaker are not fucking real." He barks. "I've been through this before okay? It's fake, you have to keep that line between real and kayfabe Glen or else you're going to lose your head!"

"Mark that photo is not fake, it's a real object with real people in it!"

"No. None of this is real, Kane is not real!"

He just buries his head further into his hands denying. My hands shake with rage, rage that's not coming from me but from…

"Kane isn't real? You mean you don't remember your baby brother?" I tangle my fingers in Mark's long hair and jerk his head back hard. The spark of pain in his eyes excites me. It was something rare I saw as a child, he was the one who inflicted the pain, our mother was the one who inflicted the pain. If I had her fucking belt now, I'd strip my brother naked and watch him shiver on the floor as I beat him the way she beat me, the way he made her beat me. My brow bunches up in a scowl, my eyes bore into him, a stare that is even more frightening than the one he has conjured for his precious gimmick, because mine is not a gimmick. Mine is all real and all hatred bubbling, boiling, ready to run over and burn.

"Glen…"

"I am not Glen!" Mark flinches as my saliva wets his face. I just laugh, because I am in control. I climb on top of him pressing him down onto the couch. "It would be so easy…to grab one of this pillow…" I smile crookedly at the throw pillow and pick it up and squeeze it with one hand. I turn my eyes back to Mark and my smile widens just imagining. "…and shove it into your putrid, ugly, face and smother you. It is a dream I have had many times since childhood and I have waited alone in the silence of solitude planning for the day I can stare into your eyes, brother of mine, and watch as they twitch with fear, realizing that they are dying." The metal image makes me laugh. It just brings me that much joy. "All I will do is laugh at you Mark, I'll laugh until I cry, and I will watch and never blink as your eyes still themselves and grow glassy and lifeless in an eternal sleep."

"Today is not that day!" Mark wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes.

"What are you going to do big brother?" I croak. "Are you going to kill me?"

Mark's expression is frantic, his eyes are wide with terror, he thinks I am nothing more than Glen slipping into his gimmick. He doesn't understand. He has memories of the truth but he has long forgotten or suppressed them.

"Glen!"

"I am Kane!" I pry Marks hands away, both of our muscles strain as we struggle against each other, but I have a strength that he doesn't. Mine is fueled by my rage and hatred and those muscles are always the strongest. I roll off the couch still clutching Mark and I throw him into his coffee table. It's all glass, Sarah picked it out and Mark always hated it. He's always been the rustic type. Marks busts the table with his face and my laughter fills the room. I wish I could finish him, but I have to finish Glen first and I need Mark for that. Mark reels back holding his head. Blood gushes between his fingers and runs down his arm, beautiful and crimson.

"I…I don't understand."

"Try." I grip his jaw tight in my hand. He squeezes his eyes closed at the pain. His instinct is to fight back. He punches me in the gut but I don't even feel it. I'm used to pain. I just laugh. I pull the silvery lighter from my pocket. All these years and it's still stuck close to me. I flick the top open and bring the small yellow flame to life in front of Mark's nose.

"I don't remember anything, what do you want me to say?" He tries to wriggle free and I knee him in the crotch. It's the only way to keep him grounded for a few moments. He groans from the low blow.

"Does the fire burn? Can you smell it? Do you remember Mark?"

He squints at me, we can both smell the stench of hairs smoldering from his mustache.

"Glen, please stop, I don't remember anything!" He's pleading with me, I love this. I just move my head slowly from side to side all the while smirking. No, I will not stop it, I will not please stop it. "I don't remember, I don't reme…"

His sentence falls short, suddenly dropped off like an unwanted child. The confused green orbs that are his eyes grow distant his lips part slightly and a gasp escapes.

"You…are real…aren't you?"

"Don't you remember yet? Don't you remember a damn thing?" I growl at the older man. I was hoping things would be easier than this. Mark must have suppressed his memories of our childhood.

"No." He says quietly. I snap the lighter closed.

"I smell smoke, hot, black, billowing smoke. I hug my knees to my chest shaking, shaking with joy as everything burns. I am ten years old. I hold the lighter in my hand. He told me not to do it, but I didn't listen. Being good had never worked in the past, I still got beat for it. I might as well be bad, as bad as I could be. But this time, I wasn't the one getting burned."

"What are you talking about?"

"Why don't I tell you a little story brother of mine." Before starting, I tilt my head and give him a little sideways smirk. I can't wait to see what look he'll have on his face by the time I end, and it won't be with a 'happily ever after'.

Finally! This chapter was a biotch to get out! Phew!!! Sorry it took forever and a day *groans* There is probably going to be just 1 or 2 more chapters to this fic. It's winding down. No promises about how soon they will be up though. Review if ya feel the spirit move ya! :P