Author's Note: Hmm...I don't really like this chapter too much, it's mostly just to tie up some loose ends, but read and enjoy anyway :) Oh, and I'm sorry if some of the translations are wrong. I did my best :)
When Marco got to school the next day he felt gloriously well rested yet nervous at the same time. He didn't want to see Tim today; he didn't ever want to see Tim, and Dylan sensed that. So, as quickly as he could manage, he threw his own books into his locker and walked Marco to his, keeping his eyes peeled for the worm.
Marco rolled his eyes and smiled at his defensive boyfriend. "Really Dylan, I'm fine, you don't need to make yourself late for class by hanging around my locker." He began putting books away.
Dylan's eyes gleamed and he ruffled Marco's hair. "I have to make sure my Marco's okay, or I'm never going to be able to concentrate." He winked. " 'Cause we all know how crucial sewing is to future hockey players."
Marco giggled. "Hey, now you can make your own jerseys."
Dylan grinned. "You know it."
"Hey Marco."
The couple froze at the voice. Slowly, Marco turned around to look at Tim warily. Dylan raised an eyebrow. Kid sure has guts, Dylan grudgingly admitted, glaring at him.
But before Marco could answer, Dylan thundered, "What do you think you're doing here?"
Tim didn't even flinch. How annoying, Dylan thought. "I believe I was talking to my friend," Tim answered nonchalantly.
"Oh, is that what I am? Huh. Could've fooled me," Marco replied angrily, grabbing the books he needed for first period and slamming his locker closed.
Marco's anger hurt Tim more then Dylan ever physically could. He looked stricken, but Marco refused to allow himself to feel sorry for him; he was just going to get played again. He needed to end it now.
"Marco," Tim almost whined.
Marco ignored him, and Dylan pushed Tim out of his way and followed Marco to his classroom.
But what the couple didn't know was how strongly Tim felt for Marco. They knew Tim liked Marco a lot, but Tim didn't just like Marco. He actually loved him, and he couldn't possibly let him go. It would be the end of him, Tim was sure of that. He needed to win him back somehow.
And Dylan had better watch out for himself when I do.Marco ran to his locker at the end of the day bell, acting extremely paranoid as he jerked his head around, looking for Tim. Thankfully, he hadn't seen him yet.
He shoved his books into his locker, trying to get out of there as quickly as possibe.
Until someone hurriedly blurted out from behind him, "Marco, please let me explain."
Marco jumped from the surprise and whirled around, almost face to face with Tim. Subconsciously shrinking away from the youngest boy into the locker, Marco gave him a harsh look. "No."
He tried to push past Tim, but the youngest boy would allow it. Tim began pleading with him, acting so pathetic it was painful.
Dylan walking towards Marco's hallway briskly, wanting to get to Marco as soon as possible. He stopped short when he saw the agitated look on Marco's face and who was keeping him there in the first place.
Infuriated, Dylan dashed down the hallway, hearing Marco say exasperately, "I think you've done enough."
"But I ha-"
"What do you think you're doing here?" Dylan snarled, placing a hand roughly on his shoulder. "Didn't I tell you to stay away from him?"
"In so many words," Tim narrowed his eyes. He turned his head to look beggingly at Marco. "I just want to be friends."
Marco barked out a laugh. "Ha! That was what we tried last time and you didn't exactly stick to it."
Tim looked sheepishly at him. "I know and I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself-"
"What makes you think that you won't just cross the line again?" Marco cried in frustration, throwing his arms up in the air.
Tim looked like he was about to answer when Dylan shoved Tim away from them in disgust. "I'm going to say this one more time," the older boy growled threateningly. He was pleased to see Tim flinch away from him. "Stay away from my boyfriend."
He wrapped his arm around Marco's waist and steered him away. Tim burned with envy, and he was glad no one else was in the hallway with them.
Marco still felt uncomfortable. He was inwardly blushing when Dylan told Tim off, but now he was uneasy. Tim's never going to give up, is he? Marco bit his lip. To be honest, he didn't really know why both Dylan and Tim were attracted to him; he wasn't anything special. But apparently his boyfriend and not-so-secret admirer saw something he didn't.
"Marco!" Tim tried one more time. He ran forward and yanked the Italian boy from his boyfriend's grasp. Tim then proceeded to sprint to an empty storage closet as Marco gave a yelp of surprise.
"Tim!" Marco cried in protest as Tim shut and locked the door. He looked a little scared in the dim light.
Tim wanted nothing but to kiss him right then and there, but he forced himself to resist. "I'm not going to let you go until you hear me out," the youngest boy said urgently.
Dylan began banging loudly on the door. "Tim!" he roared. "You open this door right now!"
Marco glared at Tim and said forcefully, "Let me out."
"Will you just listen?" Tim all but yelled, causing Marco to blanch slightly and go silent.
Dylan took Marco's silence as a bad sign. "Tim, I swear to god open this door before I kill you." Both Marco and Tim were actually worried he was serious.
Tim was willing to take his chances, however. He grabbed Marco's wrists in an attempt to get his attention, but the Italian boy squirmed. "Tim, let go," Marco hissed. Dylan heard this, and his rage started to grow, if possible, even stronger.
Tim sighed. "Listen, Marco, I'm sorry for everything. I really just want to be your friend, I couldn't stand it if you hated me," Tim looked at him sincerely. "I would understand it completely, though, what I did was unacceptable and out of line, but I need you to understand how I - Will you shut up?" Tim exploded suddenly, looking harshly at the door where Dylan was behind. Dylan had been constantly wriggling the handle, pounding on the door with both his fist and foot, and shouting at Tim to open the door and for Marco to not listen to a word he said. "Can't I just get five seconds alone with the guy?"
"No," Dylan responded furiously. "Marco? Are you okay?"
Marco blushed slightly. Dylan was being kind of over-protective right now. "Dylan, I'm fine, really. You don't need to worry, he's not sawing my arms off or anything."
"Well, that's good to know, but it wasn't exactly what I was worried about," Dylan almost chuckled.
Tim looked hopefully at Marco and mouthed, Forgive me?
Marco scrutinized him before he mouthed, not smiling, Maybe. Eventually. But not right now...
Tim nodded acceptingly. It was a start at least. I am sorry though. I really am.
Marco nodded, but didn't say, or mouth, anything else for a few moments. He wasn't ready to forgive him or consider him his friend again just yet. Tim had put him and Dylan through quite some pain.
Outside, Dylan was getting antsy. He couldn't hear them saying anything, and he was going absolutely insane. For all I know, they could be making out, Dylan cried in his head, becoming very overly suspicious. He began knocking on the door again, not angry at the moment but just worried.
We better get out there, Marco mouthed at Tim.
Tim shook his head violently. Nuh-uh. No way. He's going to kill me if I step outside.
Marco raised an eyebrow. Can you really blame him? And anyway, what do you suppose we do? He's going to break down the door any second so it won't matter whether we willingly go or not. Now move!
Tim looked at him nervously and defeatedly. Alrightttttt. But you go in front!
Marco bit back a laugh, and unlocked the closet door. It flung open and all in a flurry Dylan snatched Marco up and out of Tim's reach. "You're okay?"
Marco smiled and tapped him on the nose. "I'm fine. It's not like he's a serial killer or anything."
"Hmm...I wouldn't be surprised actually," Dylan glared at the hesitant Tim. His fist itched to knock that jerk to the floor, but he was too thankful to have Marco in his arms once again to do anything just yet.
Tim held up his hands in surrender. "Hey, I only wanted to talk to him. In private. And that was the only way I could think of on such short notice without you twisting my words around."
Dylan snorted. "Yeah, right, I'm twisting your words around. All you do is lie to him."
Marco glanced sharply at Tim.
Tim thrust his hands in Marco's direction pointedly. "See?" He said, frustrated. "You see what you do? You tweak, and tweak, and tweak until you've made Marco hate me! You just can't stand the fact that even though I love him I still want to be his friend, even though he might not love me back! You can't stand this kind of competition!"
Both Marco and Dylan were stunned. Did he just say...love?
Dylan was beyond rage. "You-You're in love with my Marco?" He cracked his knuckles and lunged at Tim.
Marco couldn't take this anymore. He was sick of the fighting, the jealousy(though he used to wonder how anyone could be), the whole Tim/Dylan problem all together. Marco didn't want to be around either of them at the moment.
Marco groaned in exasperation, loudly and with relish and shouted, "Stop it! Just stop it, both of you!"
The two fighting guys paused and looked up at Marco, a little surprised.
"I'm tired of the constant fighting!" Marco was livid. "I don't even get why the two of you are fighting anyway! It's ridiculous! I'm not famous or anything! I'm nothing special! It makes no sense!"
Both Dylan and Tim looked at him unbelievably. This guy was beyond oblivious.
Marco glared at them and turned on his heels.
"Marco!' Dylan and Tim called, upset.
"Just leave me alone, the both of you!" Marco replied dismissively as he shoved the school doors open and started walking quickly away from there.
He had no idea where he was going, but he didn't care. Marco just wanted to be alone, have a few moments of peace and quiet. Away from the nervousness of whether he'd run into Tim that day, or the hard look Dylan would get whenever anyone mentioned the name Tim. It didn't even have to be about him either! It could be any random Tim guy and suddenly Dylan would get into a bad mood. Marco sighed and kicked a rock dejectedly.
Dylan and Tim looked ashamed of themselves as they broke apart. Marco'll just blow off some steam on his own and return to me by this evening, Dylan thought, trying to cheer himself up. His heart suddenly stopped. Oh my god. Marco's nightmare! Dylan inwardly gasped. He was off on his own! By himself! In god knows where!
Dylan shot up, startling Tim, and ran outside. He had to find him!
Marco absent-mindly popped into a building, as the sun was starting to glare into his eyes. He probably would've turned around on any other day, but he didn't want to run the risk of bumping into either Dylan, Tim, or both. He pushed the two glass doors opened and looked around. Huh. This looks like some kind of bank, Marco thought instantly. And it did, despite the lack of workers or customers. It was odd, but Marco couldn't come up with an explanation as to why. Maybe it's their day off? Marco's mind suggested. Wait, but the doors would be locked, wouldn't they? Hmm... This was weird. Maybe they're all just in the back of the building...or on a late lunch break or something?
No matter what the reason was, it seemed sort of off-putting. Marco decided to just go to the next more populated building on this street, just in case he was trespassing, or a vampire or some other creepy monster jumped out of the shadows. He went to turn away.
"Marco," a deadly familiar voice entered he younger boy's ears.
Marco froze, fear paralyzing him momentarily. He turned around and saw his father standing a couple yards away from him, shock written all over his face. Speaking of creepy monsters, Marco thought, afraid. How had I not noticed him there? Mr. del Rossi, however was staring at him, face blank of all emotion. Marco's hand flew to his pocket where his phone was, gripping it tightly.
"Non c'è bisogno di panico, Marco (There's no need to panic, Marco)," Mr. del Rossi smiled at him, opening his arms as if to give him a hug as he walked cautiously towards him."Ho cercato per voi fin dalla ... da quel giorno. Volevo chiedere scusa, Marco. I... ho reagito in maniera eccessiva. Non avrei mai dovuto ... hai picchiato così (I've been looking for you ever since...since that day. I wanted to apologize, Marco. I...I over-reacted. I should never have...have beaten you up like that)." Mr. del Rossi was now standing right in front of Marco.
My dream! Oh my god, my dream! Marco almost went into cardiac arrest right then and there. He shook his head vehemently.
"Per favore, Marco, mi dispiace tanto (Please, Marco, I am so sorry)." Marco instantly dialed Dylan's number, praying with all his heart that Dylan would just answer quietly.
He was wrong.
"Hello?" Marco heard Dylan answer loudly from his phone. "Marco?"
Mr. del Rossi's eyes glinted murderously at him as he heard Dylan's voice."Come, non ti fidi di me (What, you don't trust me)?" he roared, leaping forward and twisting Marco's arm painfully behind his back in one swift motion, causing him to drop his phone. It stayed on, however, as Marco cried out in pain, his arm throbbing.
"Marco!" Dylan shouted. Oh god. I'm too late.
"Ti senti fortunato, faggot (You feel lucky, faggot)?" Mr. del Rossi hissed, pushing Marco's arm up higher. "Davvero (Do you)?"
Marco didn't answer, for fear of saying the wrong thing. He was dealing with a very volatile man right now.
"Marco where are you?" Dylan screamed. Mr. del Rossi lifted his foot and brought it down hard on Marco's phone, crushing it.
"You know, there was an off switch," Marco muttered under his breath. Unfortunately for him, his father heard it.
"Che cosa hai detto(What did you say)?" Mr. del Rossi hissed.
Marco took a deep breath. "I said there was an off switch. You didn't need to crush it."
Mr. del Rossi almost smiled. He was still gripping Marco's arm very hard, but he lowered it so it wasn't in danger of breaking.
"Why are you even here in the first place? The police are looking for you. You know, because you almost killed me," Marco said dryly.
Mr. del Rossi gave Marco a harsh look. "Non sapevo che saresti qui, Marco. Ma ho cercato di trovare te, per vedere se tu eri ancora una vergogna per la nostra famiglia(I didn't know you'd be here, Marco. But I have been trying to find you, to see whether you were still a disgrace to our family)." Mr. del Rossi started to drag Marco away from the clear doors and into a darker area. "E a quanto pare, lo sei(And apparently you are)."
Marco tried to fight against Mr. del Rossi's hold on him. His father had his arm in a very vulnerable position, however, and he'd rather not break it. Marco could feel Mr. del Rossi's grip bruising his wrists and forearms. "What makes you think I haven't changed?" Marco challenged angrily. On the inside he was desperate and frightened to the point of almost passing out, but he couldn't let his father know that.
That made Mr. del Rossi pause for a second. "E la tua (What about your)...?" He spat out, looking pointedly at Marco's broken phone.
"Just because we're friends doesn't mean I like him or anything," Marco shrugged. "I'm straight now. I've thought about it and I just decided to stop being gay." This is absolutely ridiculous, Marco inwardly rolled his eyes. Anyone with a brain cell wouldn't believe that.
Funnily enough, Mr. del Rossi lit up. "Really, Marco? You have stopped being...just like that?" He grinned and let go of Marco swiftly. The Italian boy rubbed his sore shoulder and backed away slightly from Mr. del Rossi, amused and surprised that he actually fell for it. The old Italian man held his arms open for a real hug.
Marco shook his head and glared at his father. "No, not really asshole." And he took off running.
Tears started running down his face; he felt like his heart was being stomped on all over again. He almost could've had his father back. Marco could hear Mr. del Rossi give a shout of fury and hear his feet stomping behind him, but Marco knew he could out run him. I need to find Dylan, Marco thought urgently.
He jogged past the school before he stole a glance behind him. Mr. del Rossi wasn't too too far away, but he still was a while behind. Now he just had to remember how to get to Dylan's house! He inwardly cursed himself for not paying more attention to the route Dylan took to get home, but then again, how was he supposed to know something like this would happen? And so soon?
Marco ended up going with his gut feeling and taking turns whenever he thought it might be right. It wasn't the most accurate way; he ended up having to double back several times and a couple times he had to stop behind a tree to catch his breath. He tripped occassionally and got covered in dirt and scratches, which frustrated him to no end. Luckily, all this zig-zagging meant that Mr. del Rossi had lost him.
Eventually, Marco found a street he recognized and started down that one tiredly and with faint hope. He had long ago slowed down to a walk, breathless and wanting to save his energy in case he somehow ran into his father again.
Thankfully for him, he (finally!) walked up the steps to Dylan's house, feeling gritty and exhausted. As he hopped up, he could hear Dylan's anxious voice and loud, constant footsteps. "Where could he be? What if he's seriously hurt and...and he was mad at me..."
Marco opened the door, his wrists throbbing, blood covering his knees and elbows, and dirt caked all over his body.
Dylan had been pacing the room frantically and a distressed looking Paige was sitting in a kitchen chair. The older boy whirled around at the sound of the door opening and almost cried in relief. He sprinted towards Marco, lifted him up, and hugged him. Marco wrapped his legs around Dylan's middle and hugged his head back. He set the Italian boy down, and kissed him hard. Dylan then placed his hands on either side of Marco's face, and looked deep into his eyes. "I'm so sorry about everything. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He noticed the bruises on Marco's wrists that ran a third of the way up Marco's forearm, and the bleeding knees and elbows.
"I'm fine," Marco said shakily. He gave Dylan a half-hearted amused smile as he pointed to his knees and elbows. "These I kinda did myself...I've discovered I'm about as coordinated as a headless chicken."
Dylan gave a breathless laugh and hugged him again. "I'm sorry, I was so stupid for letting you go off by yourself."
Marco shook his head. "No, I was the idiot. I didn't even think about what I was doing...I just felt so over-whelmed...I was wrong for yelling at you Dyl, I'm sorry."
Dylan's eyes smiled down at him.
Paige had remained respectively silent as Dylan rejoiced at having Marco home and safe, but Paige was burning to ask one question. "How'd you get away hon? The guy's a raving lunatic!"
"Ah, well, um..." Marco blushed slightly. He didn't really want to admit to them that he'd lied temporairily that he was straight. But he knew he had to, so he began, "Well I sorta ducked into this bank because the sun was glaring in my eyes and I didn't want to turn around just yet. So I hopped in and looked around, but the weird thing was that it was completely empty. Not a soul in sight." He nodded at Dylan and Paige's baffled expressions, as if to say, I know right? "At first I thought maybe it was closed, but then wouldn't they have locked the doors? I thought I should probably leave because I might be trespassing or something, so I went to leave and...well he, um, surprised me and I, uh, got away," Marco finished lamely, trying to avoid details.
Dylan raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean he surprised you, and exactly how'd you get away?" He said in a no-nonsense voice.
Marco fidgeted slightly before he tried it again. "Well he started with apologizing, right? But I knew where it was heading because I dreamt it. So I dialed you number, Dylan, but you answered too loudly and he heard. He twisted my arm around (Dylan noticed how Marco tenderly handled his wrists) and said in so many words that I was a disgrace, and how he wanted me to be straight." Dylan's eyes got that angry glint in them at Marco's words. "He started to drag me into a dark corner or something, where if anyone happened to walk by they wouldn't see anything. So the only thing that came to mind to stop him from beating me up or anything was to convince him I was straight, for the time being anyway." He looked ashamedly down at his feet, but continued anyway. "He bought it and was all excited and asked if I was serious. I couldn't help it; I basically told him hell no and took off running. He's probably still out there looking for me, the stalker."
Dylan wasn't angry at Marco or anything for lying about being straight; anyone in his position would've done the exact same thing. Most wouldn't have had the nerve to tell them flat out, right then and there, that he was lying afterwards. Dylan walked over and behind him, rubbing his tense shoulders, feeling bothered. "He was stalking you?"
Marco bit his lip. "Well, kind of. He said he hadn't meant to find me there, it was just one of those in-the-wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time things. But he said he had been trying to find me ever since the police had started looking for him. Probably to get me to take the charges off him," Marco sniffed. "Anyway, he said he saw me pop in there and followed me somehow without me noticing at all." Marco smirked. "How oblivious am I?"
Paige looked at him sympathetically and gave him a huge hug. "I'm just happy you're not seriously hurt like last time. I don't think I could handle almost losing my you again." Afterwards, Paige gave Marco a slight push into Dylan's arms. Dylan grinned and put his arms around Marco, who chuckled a little and blushed, returning the hug.
Out of the blue, Marco's mind flashed from his father to Tim, and he inwardly cringed away from it. He buried his head in Dylan's chest and suddenly groaned. "I don't want to go to school tomorrow."
Dylan looked down at Marco's hidden face worriedly. What was he going to do about Tim? Beating him up sure didn't stop the determined little sucker. How in the world was he supposed to protect Marco from this guy? The bad thing was, Dylan wasn't sure whether Marco still wanted to be Tim's friend or not.
The funny thing was, though, that Marco was this close to forgiving him, but since he blurted out that he loved Marco, the Italian boy felt nothing towards him. The brown eyes boy just couldn't deal with this chapter of the Tim epidemic. He didn't hate him, he didn't feel sorry for him, he was just...done. Marco wanted to take the Tim burden off his shoulders for good and never have to deal with him again. Everything was perfect(if you scratch out the whole homophobic father aspect) until Tim had to come along and ruin it for them. Marco and Dylan were happy together, and he didn't want stupid Tim to try to worm his way back into his life. Every time he did, he messed up worse than the first time. The middle aged boy had been forgiving and lenient where he was concerned, but now Marco couldn't deal with it anymore. It was draining him; he was rubbed dry, scoured to the core from this worrying about what Tim would do next, what he would try to pull to bump Dylan out of his way. Unfortunately for him, Dylan was practically immovable.
"I know," Dylan kissed Marco's hair, still hugging him. He was concerned, that much was evident. About both Tim and Marco's father. Dylan glanced down at Marco's scrapes and suggested, "Why don't we get you cleaned up?"
Marco nodded and they walked over to the kitchen sink. Paige kissed Marco's cheek goodnight and bounded up the stairs. Dylan sat Marco on the counter and wet a paper towel. He then wet it and proceeded to tenderly dab at Marco's knees and elbows. The younger boy recoiled slightly from it, but he knew he had to get all the dirt out.
Dylan then reached into the cubboard and got out a small spray bottle. Marco's eyes went wide and he shook his head vigorously. "Uh-uh, is that the spray-ee stingy thing? No, we are not using that! It hurts!"
Dylan grinned, highly amused. "Spray-ee stingy thing?"
Marco glowered at him. "You know what I mean."
Dylan chortled, shaking the bottle. "Don't worry little baby, it's not that 'stingy thing.' "
Marco eyed him warily but allowed him to spray his cuts. Until he yelped in pain and jerked away. "Dylan!" Marco cried, furious. "You said it wasn't!"
"Well how else was I supposed to get you to take it?" Dylan asked, his eyes gleaming wickedly.
Marco crossed his arms and pouted, looking irritated.
Dylan chuckled again and went to hug him. "You get cuter by the day, I swear."
"Nuh-uh. You are not forgiven," Marco retorted, annoyed and stubbornly refusing to looking at him.
Dylan smiled widely, pinned Marco against the counter, and started kissing Marco's neck. "Am I forgiven now?" He murmured, his lips still pressed to the Italian boy's neck.
"Nope," Marco answered obstinately, still peeved but becoming progressively less so.
Dylan then began kissing Marco's lips, who were at first unyielding, but now starting to move with Dylan's. "And now?"
"I'll let you know," Marco replied.
Dylan laughed and continued to kiss him with more passion. "Oh, I'm glad you're safe," Dylan whispered.
Marco gave a small smile. "Well that makes two of us."
Dylan smiled and ran his fingers through the younger boy's soft, black hair as Marco looked into those blue eyes. They knew they were perfect for each other, and for some reason the term 'boyfriend' or the word 'love' didn't seem strong enough.
Marco walked swiftly to his locker, not making eye contact with anyone in particular. He got as far as actually closing the door and turning to leave when he heard a small voice say, "Marco?"
"What Tim?" Marco asked, refraining from rolling his eyes in annoyance with difficulty.
"I just want to say I'm sorry about yesterday and I really just want us to be fr-"
"Oh just stop. Just stop right now," Marco said harshly. He hated how he sounded, but it needed to be said, and he wasn't exactly unwilling to do so. "We both know that's not what you want Tim, so stop with the 'I just want us to be friends' thing. I'm sick and tired of you always trying to mess me and Dylan up. It's frustrating, because I'll think you're actually serious this time, and then you do something and I'm left to think whether all this is worth it." Marco glared at him. "And it's not. I'm done trying to be your 'friend.' If I could change things I would, but the fact of the matter is you won't and I'm not going to take it anymore. I'm done."
Marco pushed past a gaping Tim. He half expected Tim to run after him like he usually did, but he didn't, and despite the stomach-twisting guilt he felt, he knew it needed to be done. They were just hurting themselves.
Tim had never felt so low in his entire life. He couldn't even try to be friends with Marco. But the youngest boy knew Marco was right; he wasn't going to change. And even though there was obvious hardness in Marco's voice, he did detect some guilt and sympathy buried somewhere deep in there, and he clung to that like a pathetic fish. He couldn't just move on like that. Maybe in time he would, but he highly doubted it. For now it seemed that Tim would once again have to admire Marco from a distance, and watch Dylan push the Italian boy farther and farther away from him.
