Marco didn't expect to be ambushed as soon as he got home, especially in the comfort of his room. Then again, most people don't get blasted in the face with sea creatures conjured by magic.
His first objective upon returning home had been to take a shower and possibly lie in his bed and contemplate his place in the world. Simple enough, except for the part that the princess of all things erratic decided to Narwhal blast him before he even got the chance to flop down on his much comfortable bed. Marco fell to the ground with a surprised yelp, face-down on his barely cleaned carpet.
"Intruder!" Her voice edged on both lividness and guard, although why he had no idea. The fact that he hadn't known the princess would be around only added to his surprise.
"It's me," He croaked. He realized he was still obscured by his bed. He raised a foot for proof. "I surrender. Do not attack."
"Marco!" She shouted with her usual high pitched worry. She vaulted over the bed and pulled him to his feet, in a very tight hug. He made no plan to move, yet wondered if it was possible that he might crushed by pure affection. "I thought something happened to you! You were gone for hours." She pulled away from the one sided embrace and searched his face for answers.
Marco didn't ask why she knew, as the princess wasn't even supposed to be on Earth in the first place. Despite her promises to become more compliant to her training before taking on her legacy, she would often sneak out and crash with them for a weekend, never taking more than two days away from her kingdom at a time.
"I can take care of myself, you know." He gave a reassuring smile, then allowed himself to sit on the bed. The princess did not look convinced. Her eyebrows were drawn together, her usual tell tale mark of doubt.
"Where were you? Mr. and Mrs. Diaz had no idea, so I didn't tip them off in my suspicions. There were scorch marks near your door, then I find someone waltzing in your room." Star looked like she wants to say more, but held off.
Marco chose that opportunity to let his head hit his pillow. "I was talking… with Tom," he added as an afterthought.
"Let me guess, you fought him as he tried to sacrifice you?"
"What?"
"What, he never tried to kill you? Like some lame battle to the death thingy? Tom does not invite people. He drops in unannounced, or brings people to his lair." She deduced, wand twirling in her hand.
When Marco looked surprised, she continued. "I'm the master of detective work! Well, that and we were an item. Unplanned outings were our thing. And the occasional abduction."
He knew it wasn't what she meant. "You guys went to space?" He joked, "Met any aliens?"
"Once or twice, but that's not the point." She answered, dead serious. "What did he want?" She flopped down beside him, legs dangling over the side of his bed.
"I thought you want nothing to do with him?" Marco crossed his arms, as his eyes traced the cobwebs in his ceiling.
"Yeah, but that was before he decided to take my bestie." Her voice turned a bit more aggressive. "Tom does not have friends. He has allies, partners, enemies, sure. He's either using you, or needs you. Which one is it?"
"Well for starters, he didn't exactly try to kill me. You were right on the kidnapping, though." The princess pointed at him with finger guns, smiling all the way. "I'm surprised you're taking this so calmly."
"He's harmless. Most of the time. Just, don't make any deals with him unless you're prepared to spend the rest of your life completing your contract." She suddenly jumped up, leaving bed creases in her wake. "What did you guys talked about, anyway?"
Marco felt compelled to lie. "Just some random stuff."
Star leveled with him. "You made a contract with him." It did not felt like an accusation to Marco. More like a statement of fact. "You agreed to something. Not a concrete plan, but close. You offered him your support in some sort of predicament."
Marco swallowed unconsciously. "Did you learn to read minds when I was gone?"
Star's redden cheeks only confirmed her guilt. "You may or may not have left your phone open in a call..."
"You were eavesdropping!"
"You gave me a booty call!"
"Its butt dial, and I was tied up in the moment!" Marco took a deep breath and forced his voice to stop shouting. "I don't see the big deal. It was a request, he asked me for help, and I did put my own conditions in..."
She gave him a look.
"Wait, I didn't even have my phone!"
She diverted his attention. "Marco! Demon contracts are sacred!" She emphasized each word by hitting Marco with her wand each time she spoke. "Congratulations! As of until the day that your terms or agreement is over, you guys are basically married!"
Marco hurried to cover himself, taking refuge underneath his pillow. "That's not-"
"Sacred!" She shouted, awfully determined to make a simple agreement a bigger deal. "That's how they get to you! Roses then gifts then flattery, then promises! In not that order! With farce courtship!"
"Basing from experience, are you?" Marco threw back. "It's not like we'll be roleplaying the domestic life of Mr. and Mrs. Lucitor. I really don't see what's the big deal with agreeing to maybe lend a hand to whatever's bothering him."
"You don't even know what's he's searching for."
"Maybe."
"Sweet, sweet, Marco."
He rolled his eyes at the condescension, but laughed at the familiarity nonetheless.
She proceeded to go on a rant on the ins and outs of demonic dealing. "Remember! Handing your soul is a sure way to-"
"-there is a caste system, I think? Either way, I wouldn't say it's exactly matriarchal-"
"-demons don't need materials to channel their magic. So no wands. Just spells and a lot of inherent power-"
Only half-listening, Marco idly sighed and took in the voice of his closest friend. He clasped her hand in his, and failed to notice the sudden break in her speech. She returned back to her lesson, ignoring the effect of the human on her pulse like always. Marco, not sensing anything wrong or different, reveled in the small comfort of having the princess here, with him, at that moment.
Like old times.
Only... it shouldn't be.
His grip grew tight. She noticed.
An uncomfortable silence crept unto them like an invisible fog.
"Star?" It didn't feel like an interruption, especially when the princess immediately turned to his voice. "What happened?"
"Still not a mind reader, Marco." She forced a laugh, the hollowness awkward to both of them.
He elaborated. "You just left." His eyes softened, and willed the truth of her disappearance.
Yet she removed her hand from his, and shrank back. "I had to go home eventually. Mewni… I have responsibilities and-"
"That's what you said last time." He tried not to sound accusing and failed. "Star?"
She stared at the ground, hands strangely still.
"You could've said goodbye."
She didn't reply.
"You could've given a warning." He leaned close, and caught a glimpse at her expression.
Her face revealed her to be distraught. Her eyes snapped to his, the usual cheer in her blue orbs out of place. Too long did the two stared. Her heart made itself known with the faster thump-thump-thump as her cheeks burned.
Finally Marco broke contact and looked away. "I thought you'd never come back," he said, voice cracked.
She straightened, still not facing him. As much as she once denied being like her mom, her features sculpted into an unmoving portrait of royalty, the unmistakable spitting image of Queen Moon.
Star forced her mouth to form the words, habit masking her inner turmoil. "Why now?" It struck her fast how she didn't want to leave. Not now, maybe then. Yet she couldn't say what could placate him. I can leave, if me being back bothers you. She couldn't. Not when he could say yes and agree. I shouldn't have come back when I've hurt you guys before.
"Why not?" he could only counter. He didn't know where the sudden confidence and curiosity came from. He didn't voice out the dark, pestering thoughts he kept in moments of utter frustration.
"I can't." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Drop it, Marco. Please."
It didn't feel like an order. Then again, it never did. Marco would get dragged to ridiculous situations at the princess's whims, but it wasn't like Marco wasn't allowed to voice out his protest. Despite probably being way out of his rank or caste, Marco never felt like the other controlled him. So he obeyed, not because of her status, but her plea.
"I couldn't stay here forever." Yet an underlying sense of wistfulness betrayed her words. Why pretend to like plain old Earth than the countless other dimensions of the multiverse?
He ran his hand through his hair with a sigh. Questions buzzed in his skull, all turned somber when he saw the underlying pain in her expression. "Sorry," he mumbled.
He jumped up and headed downstairs, not bothering to know if the princess heard his apology. She was right. It took him too long to ask.
But it doesn't mean that he doesn't deserve the answer. Not just to satiate his curiosity, but for his peace of mind.
Was it delaying the conversation, when they never thought to have one at all?
Marco fled, but it did not stop the onslaught of memories that hid blissfully inside, emotions poured out.
She had her hair up, with a dress typical of a teenager. Appeared not from the air, but with a respectful knock at the front door, a soft smile at her lips. Three months missing only to appear, in one piece, unharmed to boot.
His parents had been so ecstatic. Her presence had been enough to heal any wounds left in her absence, and Marco had been too relieved to question it. No painful tears were shed that day.
Just like a good little safe kid, he didn't wonder the reason for her abrupt disappearance. Of course she needed to come back- Mewni was her home, a stead she needed to rule. He accepted the flimsy excuse of being needed at her home dimension, the small doubts shoved deep within, never needed a reason to resurface.
Only until he had been the one being questioned for his actions that it felt right to ask.
He walked past the old corridor, the closed doors reminiscent of the lost turret room. She never did conjure up her old room, not even when she made it clear she would visit from time to time. Perhaps a reminder not to get too attached again.
He brushed away the memory of his mother pretending not to wait for her arrival at the smaller room. How he'd wanted to shake her until she understood, they'd been left, abandoned, without a measly goodbye. For weeks, he'd pretend not to notice how conversation with his parents weren't stilted, no cheer to speak of, as if afraid of triggering something.
He'd wanted answer, any assurance that she was alive. There had been none. Just a few scorch marks to remind of her existence in their home, the memories they've clung to.
The first few days were spent in a panic, searching for the princess who disappeared without a trace. He had nothing to continue the search outside of Earth, dimensional scissors gone in her absence.
When she was gone, too clean, Marco would think. Not a sock out of place, no puppies burning holes all around. House too empty, the silence suffocating even with his Father's old stereo attempted to fill the void.
When she was gone, school became a place to daydream. Former enthusiasm to ace his classes dwindled to barely doing school works. It took him weeks on adjusting to the absence of his friend by his side, promptly earning the label of loner in school. Not because everyone ignored him, per se. But him closed off and not replying back to people's attempts on friendly conversation.
Life passed him in a blur, noting nothing in particular.
It would've continued that way if not the constant, and annoying intrusion of his former friend Ferguson and Alfonzo.
In the hallways. "Have you seen the newest episode of Kitty Kitty Mew Mew? It was life-changing. I cried like, five times." Ferguson would barge in with a random topic. Alfonzo would parrot his topic with comments or animal noises. In this case, with meows.
And Marco would brush them off. "I don't watch much of anything anymore," he immediately closed his locker and headed off to their classroom.
During recess, "Hey Marco! Did you know that Love Sentence is back together? Alfonzo here got their new album. Want to hear?"
"I'd rather not..."
Free time, with Alfonzo taking the lead. "AI will be sentient in the future. Do you think they'll take over or destroy humanity?"
Marco would give him a look and back away.
Day after day, until it felt weird when they weren't there to intrude.
At the cafeteria, Ferguson would take a seat in Marco's space, disregarding any other vacant tables with Alfonzo in tow. "Hey dude, could you translate this particularly obscure Spanish Phrase?" Which could've been a big hint, as Marco knew Ferguson had no trouble with the language, despite his horrible pronouncation. This would snap Marco into longer response, surprising himself with his own laugh, deep into the conversation.
Little by little, Marco found himself responding more.
Alfonzo would wail, "Why is anime banned? I don't have a backup topic."
Ferguson would pat him. "How about you?" He turned to Marco. "What are you planning as topic for the movie essay? Because I don't think I could make mine about Kitty Kitty Mew Mew after last time." he stared into the distance as if he wanted the wind to blow dramatically through his hair.
"I haven't really decided yet." Marco replied automatically. Then added, a bit hesitant, "I have a couple ideas, though..."
It became his new normal, hanging out with the two at school as if they'd never been apart. He regained his passion of studies, even competed with Ferg in several subjects, or helped Alfonzo with surprising hatred for mathematics.
It lingered in his mind, why they wanted to talk to him in the first place. With a particularly persistent Ferguson asking him to hang out with them outside of school, and not taking the hint when he'd excuse time and time again, he said in agitation, "Why are you guys even trying with me? I haven't been a friend to you guys in a long time..."
Alfonzo said simply, "You've always been our friend, Marco."
Marco absolutely did not tear up.
Marco laughed with relief, he talked with pleasure, with a humbled silent thanks whenever the two appeared as a reminder to how much he'd missed being part of something. The loneliness and longing that festered inside him, gone.
It had been inevitable, for Alfonzo to ask them to hang out at his house to show off some action figure that Marco wouldn't remember at the present. A surprise it came to the two when Marco agreed. They dragged him along, chatting about shows and games, while Marco half-heartedly listened. He did, however, found out that he could still beat the two in a cart racing game, to which the others claim he'd cheat. He'd laugh, neither refuting nor admitting to the claims, and simply play.
Just like how storm clouds could immediately follow the sweetest summer breeze, he didn't realize how fast time has come and gone. He went home late.
Only to find his mother close to tears as he arrived.
He could still remember being confused as his mother hugged him as if she'd never get the chance again.
"Where were you?" Her voice leaned towards loud, but never aggressive.
Tongue tied, he could only reply with, "I was with friends." An unspoken, people would normally come home late without thinking it's an issue, hung in the air.
"Right." His mother said. Her hands fell from his sides, almost ashamed. "We- remember to call next time." Her authoritarian tone could've been believable if not for the quiver in her voice, with genuine fear leaked in.
And Marco never forgot. He initiated another hug, not knowing if it was for his benefit or his mother's. Heavy footsteps made the two look up.
His father came to the scene to with a phone. "Should I call the police? What should we-" His expression said it all, and he rushed forward to hug him.
His strong, loving father reduced to tears. Marco patted his arm, and soaked in the first feeling of warmth he'd had in their house in a long time. He sighed in contentment. "Dad, I'm fine. I was just with my friends." He hoped it came out reassuring.
"I'm not leaving." Marco had said.
There were still a lot of things in between, but Marco could only remember the parts filled with confusion, longing, and adjustment. From hoping she'd return... to the acceptance of the reality that life goes on.
"Marco?" He snapped out of his thoughts.
Marco looked up and pushed the memories away. He shook his head, and focused on the present, noticing that he'd been standing below the stairs for far too long.
His mother stared at him warmly.
"Could you ask if Star's staying for dinner? I made pasta."
"Fine."