A/N - An early update doesn't come without its price! 😉 Enjoy! 😘

Dec leant heavily against the latched door to the rotating room, conserving his energy until it was time to start the routine. He'd reached the point of tiredness now where each beat of his heart was making his entire body jolt, and he knew a few of the crew members were staring weirdly at him as his body moved rhythmically against the door, but he couldn't care less. He was done in. Finally hearing the countdown to returning from the break in his earpiece, Dec straightened up and slowly pushed his throbbing body away from the door. After the past few days of rehearsals trying to get this routine right, Dec was completely covered in painful bruises, his entire body stiff and sore from the bizarre workout it had had to endure recently. But he'd not complained once – every time a particularly searing pain shot through him, he just reminded himself that Ant had suffered a hell of a lot worse, nonstop, for years. He would be a hypocrite to moan about being a bit black and blue here and there.

Okay, there was his countdown as Paloma's music started. Taking in a deep breath and carefully shaking out all of his limbs to try to loosen them up a bit, Dec took a step back from the door in readiness. There was his cue. Shutting off the part of his brain that was registering his body's aches and pains, Dec put on a bright smile and popped his head 'round the door before hurrying into the rotating room and beginning the routine. Ever light on his feet even in his current state, Dec forgot everything but the choreography as his body went into autopilot, lithely bouncing around the room.

It was all going brilliantly for the first 30 seconds. And then Dec almost lost his balance. Quickly recovering, he slid down onto the floor for the first time in the routine, managing to avoid hitting the worst of his bruises before doing a barrel roll at the end of his slide. Exhaustion was already settling in, his adrenaline kick of energy quickly wearing off. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Dec felt tremendously thankful that, due to the nature of the camera shot, there were no real close-ups of him. His smiley mask was already slipping every time he wasn't directly facing the camera, instead being replaced by a look of pure fatigue, tongue poking out occasionally in concentration or to moisten his dry lips. But ever the professional, Dec pushed himself on, performing his heart out even as his body began giving out on him.

After a very, very long minute, it was time for Scarlett and Stephen to join him. When they were finally in the room with him, Dec was momentarily struck by how wrong this was. That should be Ant standing in front of him – they should have been doing this routine together. Yeah, sure, Scarlett and Stephen got involved in the End of the Show Show sometimes, but they never played such an integral role in it as they were this week. And it felt like cheating on Ant to even touch Stephen as he acted out the scene of excitedly explaining to him and Scarlett what he'd been doing. Stephen felt so foreign. Dec craved Ant's touch, he missed the familiar feel of Ant's strong wrist under his fingers, the way Ant's arm would follow his retreating hand as he pulled away.

Dec flung himself ruthlessly at the wall of the room, hoping the bashing of his battered body would make the lump in his throat disappear. It did actually help – the physical pain distracting him from his mental torture. Forcing his trademark cheery smile back onto his face, Dec started the original routine all over again, except this time with the addition of Stephen and Scarlett alongside him. Dec threw himself around with wild abandon, not caring that every new movement resulted in an all-encompassing explosion of dull pain. It helped distract him from the fact that his mind was becoming hazy, black dots encroaching on the edges of his vision. Picking his way carefully over Stephen's prone form, Dec was supposed to hold himself up away from the floor with his arms for a moment before turning around...But things didn't quite go to plan. His upper body collapsed to the floor with a thud, chest heaving as his lungs worked overtime to drag much-needed oxygen into his body. Dec stayed there for a couple seconds, slightly dazed, before stubbornly flipping himself over and continuing on. He was rapidly losing strength, unable to even pull Stephen up off the floor, big lump that he was, needing to use both hands as Stephen had no core strength and was unable to help much at all. And then he had to crash into an embarrassed Stephen, chest to chest, nose to nose, and his heart ached again. He missed Ant terribly. This sort of thing was never awkward with him – they were too close for that.

The black dots were starting to crowd into his main field of vision now, not satisfied with preying on just his peripheral vision anymore, and Dec was becoming terrifyingly dizzy. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last, but there was less than a minute left of the routine to go, surely he could make it. Right, high-five Paloma....Dec tried to stand up and reach her proffered palm, but he couldn't. He fell hard onto his right side, hitting a particularly tender bruise on his hip, but pushed himself back up immediately, trying to stand again but failing as the room continued tipping to the side. Sliding down the floor, his back cracked painfully as he hit the wall with a resounding thud, and he lay there, winded, while the room slowly turned. That was it. The song was finished. Thank God.

The room finally righted itself, and Dec tried standing up, propping himself up by holding onto the back of Paloma's chair. It was no good, though, he was just too dizzy and his legs had turned into quivering sticks of rubbery jelly. Collapsing to his knees beside her, Dec stayed there for a few seconds before managing to successfully heave himself to his feet, stumbling slightly, the room still tilting crazily around him despite no longer rotating. He'd made it this far. He had to finish the show.

~~~

At some point during Dec's performance, Ant had leapt from his seat and rushed over to stand right in front of his telly, worry-filled eyes watching Dec's every move. He was horrified. Dec was clearly on the verge of collapse. And there was nothing Ant could do but watch. He even forgot the sting of Dec being joined by Scarlett and Stephen, of Stephen essentially taking his role in the performance. It all took second place to his all-consuming alarm at his friend's condition. Ant felt like he couldn't breathe, his eyes following Dec's every move, seeing everything the rest of the world would never notice. He couldn't believe they'd actually made the rotational room work after two years of trying. And to be fair, it was a brilliant concept that looked fantastic, but he couldn't enjoy it at all. Not with Dec looking the way he was. Ant just wanted to reach through the screen and scoop him up, cradle his worn out friend in his arms and take away his pain.

His concern skyrocketing when Dec's upper body fell against the floor and Dec just stayed there, mouth open and chest heaving, Ant's eyes filled with tears. He couldn't believe what he'd done to his friend. Dec was well fit, he'd been working hard at his fitness the past couple of months, and this routine really shouldn't be that difficult for him to get through physically. But it was becoming ever clearer by the second that Dec was completely spent, that he was pushing through the performance despite having nothing left to give. And he was being successful, too – if you didn't look closely, you'd never notice anything was out of the ordinary. He was putting on a fabulous show.

Ant gasped as Dec fell and then crashed hard into the wall of the room, bouncing with the force of the impact. That had to have hurt. Ant winced as Dec grimaced and let out a loud, pained breath. 

Oh, good. That was it done, the performance was over. Ant couldn't help the small part of him that was beyond relieved he hadn't had to take part in that particular End of the Show Show. He was fit, but not as fit as Declan, and he didn't think his poor knees would have held up very well to the brutal routine. Dec must surely be covered in bruises after that. He was still on his knees next to Paloma, after trying and failing to stand. "Go on, son!" Ant encouraged at his screen, willing an obviously shaky Dec up onto his feet. There, he was standing again, now he just had to stay upright.

And just like that, Dec was back to being the consummate professional he was, somehow managing to bound down the stairs before grabbing his earpiece and microphone from Tom. Ant's heart swelled with pride, even as his fingers twitched involuntarily at the sight of Dec's messily untucked shirt – it was like second nature to the boys to help each other out if they suffered a wardrobe malfunction, and now was no exception. But Ant was quickly distracted from that by the sight of their crew lining the path back to the stage. This was the last show at The London Studios. The realization hit Ant like a freight train, and in his fragile state he burst into tears. He'd missed the last ever show at his and Dec's second home.

~~~

Dec was fighting for survival at this point. But he was damned if anyone but him would become aware of the fact he was just about dead. He was going to finish this off properly. "That's just about it..." he gasped, overworked lungs aching, "...for tonight's show!" Becoming aware of their crew lining the way, cheering and clapping, Dec turned and gave them a thumbs up, "Thanks gang!" He took a deep breath, "Thanks to all of tonight's guests. Thanks to Stephen Merchant, to Scarlett, to Stephen, thanks to the Speakmans," catching one of their crew members giving him a massive grin, Dec raised a smile. "Thanks to Davina McCall, thanks to the Jersey Boys, The Script, Paloma Faith-eh." Bloody hell, there were a lot of people to thank tonight!

And then he reached the stage, and it all hit him like a ton of bricks falling out of the sky. He'd just presented an entire show without Ant. And he'd made it through. He couldn't hold in the huge, relieved, and entirely exhausted sharp sigh that left his lips, his knees nearly buckling for a brief moment as he strode onto the stage. Everyone was on their feet, all of the celebrity guests were clapping and looking at him...proudly?! It was all a bit too much, and he could feel the tears coming already. 'Not now,' he growled inwardly, pushing on with his end of show spiel. 

"But," another desperate gasp for air, "most of all," he couldn't help the breathless laughter that bubbled out of him as he found himself standing next to the 6'7" behemoth, Stephen Merchant. Wrapping an arm around Stephen's waist, needing the support to keep from falling over – the entire room was spinning – Dec looked up at him, saying, "Just hold me, Stephen, just hold me."

Oh. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. The feeling of Stephen's arm around his shoulders was evoking a deep, throbbing ache in his heart that was impossible to ignore. It should be Ant holding him.

Pushing down the pain, he soldiered on, "Most of all, thanks to you at home for watching. Thank you so much. The Voice is up next." Dec let go of Stephen as he felt him pushing him forward with a hand at the small of his back. "We will see you," he had to come up for air again, "next Saturday at 7, live from Florida for the series finale," Dec swayed backwards slightly as he stepped forward, squeezing the last molecule of air out of his burning lungs. 

Emotion was starting to overwhelm him. It was a good thing they only had a few seconds left of airtime, because he didn't think he'd last much longer. Pressing a hand to his chest in an attempt to quell the pain, Dec tried to take in a deep breath, continuing, "We will see you then. Have a fantastic Easter," he ran out of air again, "And thanks for all the support." Rallying one last time, Dec managed to force out a bright, "Good night, everybody!" raising his hand in a wave even as he pressed his lips together tightly in a desperate attempt to keep his emotions in.

The crowd went wild as soon as he signed off, and he could hear Mullers and Davina cheering behind him. Closing his eyes for a split second, Dec blew out a breath as he opened them again, a thoroughly relieved smile gracing his features as he waved to the audience. He was quite certain he was going to collapse any second now due to a combination of relief and exhaustion, but he couldn't. There was still a lot to do – thanking the studio audience, mingling with the guests, attending the wrap party....And then maybe, just maybe he could finally retreat to the quiet solitude of his own home. Then he could collapse. 

Feeling someone give him a matey slap on his side, Dec turned and was immediately engulfed in a two-way hug between Scarlett and Stephen Mulhern. Mullers pulled him tight again like he'd done before the show, but Dec just couldn't relax into his hold, he remained tense and unyielding to their joint embrace. It just didn't feel right; it wasn't the type of hug he was craving. He needed a strong but gentle hug, one with the perfect height difference where he could tuck his head into the crook of the other person's neck and feel safe and loved. He needed Ant's hug.

He could feel Davina's hand rubbing up and down his back, too, in a soothing motion. She had been brilliant throughout tonight's show. Rather than going to the green room with the rest of the celebrity guests, she'd stayed backstage throughout the entire show, just being there for him, helping him get through the show. He was so grateful to her. She was no Ant, but he greatly appreciated her mothering care – it was a bit like having his mam there, in a way. And now Davina was engulfing him in a huge hug, and Dec could feel himself sagging slightly into the warmth of her embrace. Her hugs were a bit like his mam's, too, and he could feel the tears coming to his eyes at the speed of sound. His breath hitched slightly, and he knew Davina knew, because she didn't pull away from the hug like she normally would, instead running her hand up and down his back, reassuring him quietly in his ear. Finally getting himself under control after a few seconds, Dec pulled away, wiping at his eyes bashfully. Only to find himself completely surrounded by tonight's guests, all fixing him with kindly stares, some looking away when they noticed the tears on his cheeks. He had to pull himself together.

~~~

Back in Lisson Grove, Ant was in floods of tears watching and re-watching Dec's speech of thanks to the nation. His friend was clearly utterly done in, exhausted physically as well as emotionally. Ant couldn't help the vicious stab of jealousy and hurt in his heart when Dec asked Stephen Merchant to hold him. He just couldn't help it. And Davina McCall was there? He'd missed that part of the show, clearly. Diane must have recovered well enough to be able to be on the telly, then. Good. He just wished he could have been there for her reunion with her half-sister. He'd been looking forward to that.

"And thanks for all the support," Dec had said. So he was being supported by their fans, at least. That was good. Very good. Dec would need that to buoy him up. Although, you know, it looked right to see Dec all by himself, fronting a show solo. From an objective point of view, he hadn't been missed at all – Dec had carried everything perfectly well all by himself. Not surprising, really, given how talented Dec was, but it was still good to see that he didn't really need him. The public must hate him, there wasn't a chance the fans could possibly still be supporting him after what he'd done. Maybe he should stop being selfish. Maybe it was time to do what he should have done years ago. Pausing his TV so that Dec's utterly weary, relieved face could stoke the burning coals of self-hatred in his very soul, Ant moved over to his desk, pulling open the drawers, searching for what he needed. It was time.