As he looked in the mirror at his reflection, fresh out of the shower and wrapped in a towel, Sportacus felt an intense discomfort within himself. For some time he'd avoided studying his physique in the mirror, relishing in the mirror in Kathleen's bathroom that fogged up and allowed him to sensor what he saw. In his new airship, his bathroom mirror remained clear regardless of how much steam hung in the air around him. As he looked upon himself it didn't seem as though there was a part of his upper torso that wasn't marred by scars of varying sizes. He remembered the day he had gotten them, the look in the eyes of his sister as she'd inflicted endless stab wounds upon him at a time he was at his most vulnerable. There had been no escaping her fury, her thirst for revenge that she had waited a long time to quench. It wasn't the first time he'd borne the brunt of her violence but this was the first time he'd wished death would overtake him and shield him from the pain she'd subjected him to.

He tried to push down his feelings as he stood closer to the mirror and ran hot water from the tap in the sink unit. At the push of a button on the wall a plug covered the sink hole and it began to fill up. To his right he pushed another button that made a portion of the wall slide upwards and revealed a built in cupboard filled with his toiletries. He reached in and pulled out his shaving equipment, standing it on the wall edge of the sink. Splashing his face with water he took up his shaving foam and rubbed some on his chin and cheeks, careful to avoid his upper lip and carefully cultivated moustache. He'd just lifted the razor and run it through the foam on his cheek when he spotted Robyn standing in the doorway behind him in the mirror.

"What are you doing here? Are you ok?" He asked her reflection.

"You asked me to come." Her reflection replied as it leant on the wall.

He was about to ask her what she meant but he realised she must have picked up on his emotions. Within the feelings swelling within him he must have transmitted a need for someone to talk to, someone that would understand.

No one understood better than her.

Robyn smiled as a memory passed through her mind, "I remember when I was a child the times I'd watch you shave. I always used to find it fascinating."

He smiled too as he thought back and visualised his old airship, Robyn sat on the floor or on the closed toilet lid watching him in the mirror as he shaved. She'd laugh as he'd pull funny faces at her, exaggerating the movements he made with his cheeks and lower jaw to make sure no areas were missed or cut. Sometimes he'd let her squeeze the button for his shaving foam and let her pat some on his face, her small hands making a mess. If he ever cut or nicked himself she'd always be there, her small fingers pressing almost always too much toilet tissue on the bleeding patch.

It had been more years than they could remember since she'd watched him shave but she laughed as he pulled the same faces he always had done as he continued shaving. He'd missed times like this. He'd missed her presence in the airship with him. Now she was back, staying with him temporarily until she could resolve the issues between her and Kit. He'd made it clear she was always welcome for as long as she needed to stay, regardless of the duration.

As he allowed his concentration to slip he felt his razor slice his cheek as he pulled it down at an awkward angle. He quickly splashed the remaining foam from the area and inspected it; it was only on the surface of his cheek and would heal quickly. In the corner of his eye he saw a hand holding some toilet paper come into view and he chuckled as Robyn tore some off of it and stuck it on the spot.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," Robyn smiled briefly before her eyes traversed the expanse of Sportacus' torso. Under her scrutiny she could feel his uneasiness return and she smiled gently, "These bother you, don't they? As I see it scars are a reminder of what's been so we can see how far we've come from what's happened in the past. They show us we can heal and we're lucky to be alive. Don't be ashamed of the things that show you that you've survived."

He pulled her into a hug as the wisdom of her words struck a chord within him.

Down on the ground, Kit's mind was working overtime as he finalised the ins and outs of his 'special day' practical joke. Boris had been sceptical but he'd assured him that everything about it was in the 'Lazytown Book of History' that he would bring to him later that afternoon.

While he'd kept himself busy formulating his plans he'd been able to ignore the gnawing doubt about the future of his relationship with Robyn. He'd viewed his practical jokes as a means of helping them forget their troubles but it had become more of a means for helping him forget. A distraction from the issues he would eventually have to face. It was easier for him to run from the inevitable rather than accept it.

After his last argument with Robyn the night before he'd come to realise the nature of his frustration, the origin of what was driving him to destroy his relationship. In denial he squashed it down within himself and tried to think only of the pandemonium he could cause with his practical joke. Once he'd gotten it out of his system he was sure he'd be ready to acknowledge what he'd pushed back from himself and work on things with his fiancée.

With the Mayor's copy of the 'Lazytown Book of History' in hand he set to work adding the pages that would dispel any doubt in Boris' mind of the 'special day' and set his plan into motion. He knew he'd have to go some way to sacrificing himself to make it work but for the benefit of its success it would be well worth the trouble.

"Sportacus"

In the darkness of the night he heard her call his name. Her voice sent chills down his spine. He could feel her hands brush his flesh as she peeled back the duvet covering him. As warmth of a different kind replaced that which the duvet had provided he felt the mattress shift under the weight of someone climbing on top of him. He kept his eyes closed tightly, keeping deathly still as her hands roamed over his body. Her voice reached his ears again, brushing them as softly as her hands. He continued to pretend that he was asleep, hoping she'd get bored and leave him alone like she had so many nights before. Tonight seemed different. Tonight he felt her hands drift further down his body, her fingers snaking beneath his trousers.

His eyes flew open as he felt her hand caress his member. Her toothy white smile enhanced the bolts of lightning rushing down his spine. In those stormy blue eyes he could see triumph. Against his will his body seemed to relish the touch of her hand upon him, her fingers wrapped around his intimacy. He could feel her breath against his face as she leaned in close to him, her spare hand reaching down to pick something up from the floor.

"Remember this?" She purred as she leaned back and revealed Morgan's blade.

As his eyes traversed it he could see his own fear in the polished metal surface. He could see his fate written on every inch of that ghastly blade. It moved as she adjusted it in her hand. He wanted to close his eyes against what he knew was coming but they refused to acknowledge him. It was as if they were in league with her. Wanting him to see what she was going to do.

Having his throat slashed didn't hurt as much as he'd always imagined it would.

As he felt his blood stream from the wound in his throat he wondered at how his vision remained clear, how he didn't try to fight it or fight her. She was still smiling at him. Her grin seemed to grow as she raised her hand to her face. He watched as her fingernails began to pick at the skin to the right of her chin, releasing a fold of it that her fingertips grasped.

In a movement quicker than the blink of an eye the image of his sister was replaced by that of Robyn.