Sitting cross-legged on top of the crate, Shawn tilted his head back against the wall, letting his eyes close. Dressed in his ring gear, he was ready for his spot later tonight, but he'd sought the silence and solitude of this almost-hidden spot backstage rather than stay in the locker room and possibly face Hunter. He knew that if Ric knew what he was doing---or rather, what he _wasn't_ doing---Naitch would kill him. He'd promised, after all. But... he just couldn't.

How was he supposed to go hunt down his once-upon-a-time best friend and explain to him that all the nastiness and curses and anger had really been aimed at himself, and oh, by the way, I love you?

No. If Ric had been right, then he was scared to death for nothing. But if he was wrong... and that was the heart of his problem. Hunter had never given him a sign that he cared for him as anything but a friend, albeit an exceptionally close friend.

A soft sigh escaped him even as his lips curled as he remembered some of the times they'd spent together. He'd never been that close to anyone else, not even Kevin... not even Bret. No one else had been able to send that shivering spark through him with a simple look; no one else had supported him through his weak moments; no one else had known him so damned well. That was probably why it had been so easy for him to lash out and rip Hunter apart during his lowest moment. That phone call still haunted him. If he could turn back time and take every single one of those words back, it still wouldn't be enough to make up for what he'd done. All Hunter had done was be there for him, after all.

Except when you needed him the most, a snide little voice in the back of his mind reminded him sharply. He shook his head, his eyes still closed. No, he wasn't... but then, Shawn hadn't told him that he needed him, either, let alone how much or how desperately. His own pain and despair had choked back the plea that he'd wanted so desperately to make, had ultimately kept those strong arms that had held him through some of his worst times from wrapping around and supporting him at his darkest moment.

Shivering slightly in the chill from the air conditioning, Shawn wrapped his arms around himself in a vain attempt at comfort. He didn't deserve those arms... didn't deserve that support. He'd broken his own heart when he'd stomped on Hunter's and there couldn't be any coming back from that.

Ric's words came back to him, his mind almost taunting him with the simplicity of the answer.

_"Then quit tearing the man's heart out every night and tell him how long he's had yours!"_

It couldn't be that easy.

Could it?

If Ric was right about how Hunter felt... then maybe it could be. Biting his lip, Shawn opened his eyes and took a deep breath, his resolve firming. Telling Hunter how he felt and being rejected couldn't possibly be any worse than this agonizing self-hatred he'd been living with for the last six years.

Shawn slid off the crate and stretched carefully, the stiffness in his lower back a bitter reminder not only of the most painful time in his life, but of his own age. He was approaching forty, and was more aware of that fact every week as he watched the faces in the back grow younger, the hero worship in their eyes a bittersweet compliment when they so earnestly told him that he was their inspiration, that they'd grown up watching him. It wouldn't be too long before Hunter started getting the same thing, he thought wryly.

If nothing else, maybe clearing the air between them would allow them to recover their friendship, or at least begin a new one. Being able to tease Hunt about growing older the way that he'd teased him about being the young guy years before would be worth it. He missed the teasing and the shared laughter. He missed just spending time with Hunt.

Maybe it was time to try to get that back.

"Mr. Michaels! You're on in ten!" The voice carried down the hall, snapping Shawn out of his thoughts. With a glance, he saw the intern at the corner and nodded at him, starting toward the gorilla position. He pushed his brooding thoughts away, gearing himself up for the match coming up shortly. First his match. Then maybe he'd see about dealing with his worst enemy.

Himself.

Read chapter Three of Six of Strength