Shawn watched from afar. He could tell that Glen was hurting, but he couldn't see any way to fix it. Hunter had told him about the night they had shared a bottle in the lobby. He said that he could practically feel the pain and anguish rolling off the tall man. Even now Glen was sitting in catering picking at a sandwich while Moody and a crew member debated that evenings show. Mark was no where to be seen, and to Shawn that was odd. It seemed there for a while that Glen was depending on Mark to get around.
"Shawn?" Hunter asked quietly.
"Hmmm?"
"Shawn's there's nothing you can do. He's to far gone to whatever is inside eating him alive."
"No Hunter. He's not gone. He's lost, and he has no one to turn to help him find his way back."
"You don't know that Shawn."
"And you don't know that I'm not right Hunt."
"So what are you planning on doing?"
"I don't know yet."
"Just be careful." Hunter pressed a kiss to Shawn's head and sat back with a sigh, taking a long pull of his water bottle. He knew better than anyone that once Shawn got an idea stuck in his head there was no way of swaying him from completing it.
Shawn continued to stare at Glen and as if the gaze was a physical caress Glen turned and locked eyes with Shawn. The despair and raw pain that he seen in them was enough to make Shawn's breath catch in his throat. Silently he got up from the table and made his way over to Glen, standing besides him until he looked up.
"Mind if I sit here?" He asked, motioning to the seat across from him.
"No." The once husky timber that was filled with life was a dull monotone and Shawn frowned as he dropped down next to Moody.
Moody and the crew member showed no indication that they even knew Shawn was there, they kept up their chatter about the script. Glen however pushed his plate away and stared at Shawn with his head cocked as if he couldn't understand why he was there. Silence reigned between them, but it felt as if they didn't need words. Shawn felt the pain and his eyes shone with the knowledge. Glen's eyes misted up, but no tears fell. His mouth twisted into a grimace and Shawn felt his twist in response.
Finally Moody and the other person left the table, leaving Glen and Shawn to their silent conversation. Glen's shoulders drooped and his head bent slightly towards the table. His hands were shaking badly and Shawn reached over and sandwiched them between his own, wanting nothing more than to take all of Glen's suffering away. The shaking soon worked its way up Glen's arms to his shoulders and there in the middle of catering, the big man sobbed silently. His pain washing down his face and pooling on the table.
Sometime during the exchange Hunter had wandered over and sat down next to Glen, wrapping an arm around his shoulder to help calm the worse of the shaking. If others were watching no one said anything and no one stared. For one of their own to let loose in such a public place bore the mark of a horrible tragedy. Shawn looked up and seen some of the others shooting pitying glances their way, and he could read the questions on their faces. Shawn rose to his feet and walked around to where Glen was sitting and placed a hand on his shoulder.
The large man looked up and Shawn motioned towards the door. Shakily he pushed himself up and headed out, Shawn and Hunter trailing behind him. Their silent procession headed down to Shawn and Hunter's locker room, disappearing inside as quietly as they had walked. Once the door was shut Shawn led Glen over to the couch and pushed him down, then sat down next to him. Hunter took up residence in the arm chair across from them and watched as Shawn soothing ran his hand over Glen's hair, letting the man finish crying.
The sobs were no longer silent, having morphed into hoarse gulps of air and hiccups. It amazed Hunter how easy it was for Shawn to get someone to open up to him. Soon Glen's tears stopped and he straightened up, palming his eyes to rid them of the watery evidence.
"Why Shawn?" He asked, his voice low and raspy.
"Why what?"
"Why'd he do that to me?"
"I don't understand Glen. Are you talking about Mark?"
"Yes. No. Maybe. I don't know." Glen's shoulders were slumped even further and Shawn looked over to Hunter for help.
"I'm afraid that I don't understand."
"Glen buddy, you have to spell it out for Shawn. He's getting old; his mind isn't working as well as it used to." Hunter said, earning a glare from Shawn and a half hearted grin from Glen.
"Why do they hurt me?"
Again neither man had an answer and Glen offered no more insight into what was bothering him. Just the fact that Shawn had gotten as much out of Glen as he had was short of a miracle and he made a pact to himself to get to the bottom of what was troubling his large friend. A knock sounded on the door and Hunter was called to the ring. A few minutes later another knock sounded, a crew member had been sent to get Glen into his gear for that evening's match.
Soon it was only Shawn left and he paced the locker room trying to piece together some sort of information from what Glen had said. It was obvious to him that Mark was involved somehow, but Glen had asked why do they hurt him. Who else could be inflicting pain on the large man. The only other person involved with him was Scott. Shawn stopped dead in his tracks, growling as his hands clenched at his sides.
"Scott. Why didn't I think of that bastard sooner?" Shawn seethed as he penned a quick letter to Hunter and left.
As he headed out of the arena he sent a prayer heavenwards, asking forgiveness for what he was about to do.
