Summery: Link marches.
Disclaimer: So not mine.
She couldn't believe it when she saw him, standing on the very edge of the crowd, holding a sign in a white knuckled hand. He looked very out of place and was exchanging edgy looks with some of the other teenage boys present.
"Link," she breathed. She threw a hello at Miss Maybelle, and nearly knocked over Seaweed as she ran to the uncomfortable looking boy. "Link, you came!"
He nodded jerkily. "Uh huh," he said, giving her an extremely nervous version of his usual charming smile. "I'm here."
"But Link," she said in confusion. "What about singing at the Miss Hairspray pageant? What about the agents?"
Link shrugged and examined his highly polished shoes. "There are more important things," he said. He stole a glance up at her. "I couldn't let you do this alone."
A slow smile crept over her face. "You came to the march..for me?"
He tapped the sign against his shoulder, adjusting his grip. "It's like you said," he admitted, avoiding her question. "It's what's right."
"Miss Von Tussle won't like it," she warned. "She might not let you back on the show." Tracy touched his arm gently, her hand resting lightly on the bare skin of his wrist. "Link, are you sure?"
He blew out a breath and winced. "Yeah, I'm sure," he sighed. He rubbed his hands on his pants, switching his grip on the sign. "Doesn't mean I don't kinda want to throw up when I think about it."
Tracy reached out and laced her fingers with his. She squeezed his hand tightly. "I'm right here beside you."
Link looked down at their joined hands and smiled - a real smile - one that had no nerves in it. "Good," he said. "That's why I came."