A/N: I have a question for you all. Please review, (haha, I'm tricking you into reviewing! Lol just kidding) and tell me your thoughts on this. I have a new idea for a story…that sort of hit me in the face (literally) when I banged into a wall in my school's hallway this morning. Lol. I know what happens to me when I have an idea…it never leaves me alone until I tell someone about it, or write it, so here's the deal. I can begin to write it, and you'll have a new Darco story out there by me to read, but the updates on this and that won't be as frequent if I have two stories to write plus obviously everything else on my plate. Or, I can wait until this is done, then I will start that story. I do want your opinion, even though, in the end, I will probably have to make up my own mind. And I think I may have figured out how to italicize.

"So, let me get this straight, you want to tell your father about us?" Dylan asked, pleasantly surprised.

"Dyl, I think it's about time," said Marco. "Besides, if we're to be married, he'll obviously have to know about it."

"What if he doesn't accept it, though?"

Dylan opened the door to the apartment they shared together. He allowed Marco to walk in first, and he shut it behind them.

Marco sighed in response, letting his head fall into his hands, and sitting down on the couch. "Just let me worry about that, okay?" he laughed. "Wait, since when does Dylan Michalchuk get…concerned, anyway?"

Dylan shrugged, putting his arm around Marco, in hopes that it would help him relax. "When it comes to matters like you being dragged away to Italy in the middle of the night with me having no way to find you, I get pretty concerned," he replied, trying to lighten the mood.

"Oh, I see," said Marco. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. Though, I think you're wrong about Italy; it'll probably just be our church."

Dylan wanted to tell Marco that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to say that, no matter what, his father would accept it and be happy for him; however, he knew that might not be the case, so he had to work with the situation. He simply embraced Marco tightly, holding him close. Though the gesture didn't help anything really, Marco seemed to appreciate it.

"Let's have dinner," he said, opening up the freezer.

Marco woke up at eight-thirty, surprised that he had slept so late in light of the coming event. He had no idea how his father was going to react, but from the way he took it when Marco told him he was gay, he assumed it wouldn't be too good. Dylan was obviously awake, and seemed to sense his worry. He put his arm across his chest.

"I won't force you to do this, Marco," said Dylan.

Marco shook his head quickly. "I wa—have to," he answered firmly, getting out of bed.

"Marrrrco," Dylan whined. "Too early!"

"I am not making you get up, Dylan," said Marco, always the voice of reason. However, Dylan knew he wouldn't get away with it if he didn't get up soon.

"I'll tell you what: when I'm done with breakfast, then you must be up. Deal?" Dylan knew it was no use. He nodded, falling back down, hoping he might get some more sleep before breakfast.

As soon as Dylan smelled food, he got out of bed, (without being told) and strolled into the kitchen wearing a pair of sweatpants; he hadn't bothered to get dressed because he had smelled eggs. His favorite.

"Mornin'," said Marco cheerfully.

Dylan grunted out the best greeting he could. He was hungry and tired. Not a good combination. After Dylan took some food and some orange juice to go along with it, they were both too concentrated on filling their hunger to speak. Finally, Dylan decided to face the topic that he knew had to be, indeed, faced.

"Want me to go with you?" Dylan asked, referring to Marco's discussion with his father.

Marco looked Dylan over. "Oh, yes, that would be great. Dad, this is my shirtless fiancé…he sleeps that way. Hun, that would be a bad beginning."

Dylan laughed. "You know I'd change."

"I know you're tired. And, no, Dylan I don't want you to come with me. I'd rather just call you on my way home to let you know to evacuate the building, leave all the stuff behind you, and meet me at the train station so we can flee town, and elope. Therefore, I won't have to worry about seeing you murdered before my very eyes."

"Marco," Dylan laughed. "Seriously. Do you want me to go?"

Marco shook his head. "I was being serious. No, you stay. Eat. Do whatever. I'll be back as soon as I can escape."

"Good luck," said Dylan.

"Love you," Marco replied, already out the door.

Marco slowly walked up the driveway to his parents' house, wondering why it seemed so foreign even though he had only been living with Dylan for a few months. He sighed. He really was more afraid than he let on to Dylan.

His parents never expected him to knock. His mother explained that it reminded her that he wasn't living there anymore, and it hurt, so he walked right in.

Said woman spotted him right away. He smiled as best as he could, accepting the hug his mother offered.

"Hey, ma," he said softly.

She smiled widely. "Can I make you something?" she asked.

He wanted to say no, that he had already eaten, but he couldn't bring himself to take away that joy she got cooking for him. It was the same he had for cooking for Dylan.

"Sure," he answered, hoping he could just get this over with. As it turned out, his father was seated at the table, a newspaper in hand. He put it down when his son entered the room.

"Marco," he said, also excited to see him.

Marco tried to smile back. His mother was one thing, but…how could he give a true smile when he knew he was about to break his father's heart all over again? He just started accepting Marco as a son again. Doing this would ruin everything. Maybe…no. There could be no reconsiderations.

"Hi, Pa…how are you?" he asked, wondering how he was supposed to go about it.

He laughed. "Good, good. Have a seat!" Marco did so, not so willingly.

Marco breathed in and out deeply, looking at his mother who, he wasn't sure if she knew what he was planning, looked worried, he almost lost confidence.

"I'm not here under good circumstances. I need to tell you something, dad," he said, praying for an easy way out, knowing there was no way he'd get one.

"What?" his father looked worried. "What's wrong?"

"Well, you know how I've been living with Dylan? It's not…I'm…okay. Dad…" something Paige had taught him was it was easier to just spill it out quickly. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he had to try something.

"Dylan…is my boyfriend, dad. I'm going to marry him."

Oh.My.Gosh.

Why did he do that?

He could not think about anything except what his father was going to say, do, or think.

Did he really think this was a good idea?!

"Pa, say something!" Marco urged. It was like that moment in time when he'd seen his father's heart shatter the first time. However, this time was different for two reasons. One: Marco obviously hadn't learned from his first mistake that telling his father was a bad idea. Two: Marco wasn't going to dump Dylan this time.

"How can you possibly want to do this…he is a boy!" his father said, disgusted. "I don't understand."

"No, you don't," he answered, agreeing. Marco had found his strength. If his father was going to say something against his relationship with Dylan, he would retaliate. Anger made him forget worry.

"Because if you did, it wouldn't matter that is he a 'boy'," said Marco.

"So, what enjoyment do you get out of this relationship?" his father asked, obviously clueless.

Marco blinked. "What are you on about, dad? I LOVE him, and he loves me. That's what I get. That's my 'enjoyment'."

His father rolled his eyes. "I don't see how it is possible that this is anything more than rebellion."

"Oh, yes, dad. If it were rebellion, wouldn't it have stopped by now? I am marrying him."

"A marriage between two men is not a real marriage," he replied firmly.

"Dad," Marco started, sitting down again. At some point in his speech, he hadn't really noticed, but apparently, he stood up. He calmed his breathing, refusing to get angry.

"By who's standards is it not real? Yours. Tell me something about the word 'real', Pa. Would it be 'real' if I married a girl? Would it be 'real' that I was lying to her, myself, you, and everyone else?"

Evidently, his father didn't see things the same way. "I will put up with his…er…identity confusion, because I know you're not really…gay, if you don't go along with this made-up thing you're planning with some faggot," he said, spitting the word as though it was more disgusting to be that way than to call someone that.

Marco couldn't deal with it anymore. It was one thing to make him feel wrong…but what he said was unneeded.

He stood up, pushing his chair back in as calmly as possible. He then moved out to the hallway, his father looking up at him in shock.

"You will not answer me? You're going to leave…for this disgusting--"

"Nobody puts my boyfriend in the same sentence as disgusting and gets away with it. Not even you." He slammed the door behind him.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Before Marco had met Dylan, he didn't believe in soul mates. He also didn't believe in love. Of course, he believed some people fell in love; that was undeniable to him, but he didn't believe there was a love-love.

It was hard to explain, really. Marco had seen so many movies where the main character fall desperately in love, and her heart stops beating and beats faster than it ever has before all at the same time; others where he would lay down his life for her without a second thought. Oh, and there was also the ever popular, "I could never want to be with anyone else, now that I've met you." Oh, yes, it all sounded good in the movies, but there was no such thing. Though Marco didn't believe in any of that kind of love, he did believe in happy endings for couples. His views changed.

The day he had his first kiss with Dylan was exactly like a movie. In fact, he'd actually wanted to quote some characters from some of his favorite (though in his opinion, unbelievable) romance movies. It was that perfect heart-pounding moment, that feeling where he felt he could fly. Yes, fly. And there was nothing stopping him from receiving, at that moment, anything he really wanted. The best part was, when Dylan moved away, he was still happy. Yes! After the kiss ended, there was no pain, even though he did want to do it again soon.

The point is, after that kiss, Marco believed there was such a thing as true heart stopping, fireworks shooting, mind numbing, love. It really was out there, and most importantly, Marco had it. His mind had been changed since then on two things. One: He believed in that love. Two: He no longer believed in happy endings. Maybe there was such a thing, but it honestly didn't look like he was getting one.

Marco held Julia's hand as they walked into the hospital room he'd grown so familiar to. Julia knew she was supposed to feel sad when she went in there, but she couldn't contain the smile that showed off her excitement of being there. She loved visiting her Uncle. It made him feel real.

Marco touched Dylan's hand as he did normally, without a thought. Julia followed him example, quickly grabbing Dylan's other hand. He laughed softly, shaking his head, and she withdrew her hand.

"Can I talk?" she asked.

Marco nodded. "Of course."

"Hello, Unca Dilly. Haven't been here in a wooong time, but do ya renemba me?" she asked, intelligent enough to understand that he couldn't answer. However, she waited a moment anyway, and then nodded her head.

"Well, I hope you get all better soon. Unca Marco talks 'bout you all da time. I know he loves you lots. Mommy too, and me. We miss you…even if I don't nemba you too much," she said bluntly. "I still want you to come back awaked."

Marco smiled at her innocence. She had stopped talking. Apparently, that was all she had really thought of to say. It was good enough for him, though. Enough to make him feel a little better.

"Ah, Marco, nice to see you, dear," said Nurse Diana, coming in for a moment. Marco wasn't sure what she was in there for, but didn't really care. He nodded.

"You too," though it wasn't really honest. He knew the nurses and doctors had given up, and he didn't appreciate it.

"Can I talk to you alone a second, dear?" she said, not really requesting, but showing it was necessary. Marco nodded.

The nurse never let Julia stay in the room alone, so if they needed to talk, it was done on the other side of the room.

"Marco, he's still…here, as you know, but the brain activity, there's barely anything left."

"Are you trying to upset me?" he asked, waiting for her point.

She sighed. "The more you come to see him, the harder it will be when Paige signs the papers."

Marco's eyes widened. Had she made the decision officially?

"No," the nurse answered his unasked question, "she hasn't fully decided, Marco, but she has realized he's not coming back. Once she gets that in her mind, she's never going to get it out."

"The papers will not be signed," Marco said, keeping that notion in his head. It was the only thing that proved to him there was a little tiny bit of hope.

She almost smiled. "They will be signed." She put her hand on his shoulder, and left the room.

A/N: So, yes, I still need your opinion on the other story I mentioned at the beginning of the chapter. I hope you liked this chapter! Please review!