I solemnly promise that AFTER THIS chapter, I'll leave my two favorite characters alone. They've suffered enough.

SIKE I can't do that! XD

So, if you've read this far into my stories, you've probably come to notice that I've been focusing solely on Mark and Cupcake's relationship/ Mark's past. This chapter follows suit with the rest, as well; however, the next two books will be set on other topics, so this chapter will be packed with flashback drama and all the good stuff.

Enjoy. :)

Bryan was livid. Rumors had been spreading that Helena, his girlfriend, had been spending an increasing amount of time with Mark, whom he absolutely hated. Not only had he lost a recent promotion to him, but now he was attempting to charm Helena with his success and take that from him as well? No matter how hard he tried to destroy Mark's standing and unveil his obvious issues to others, he prevailed. Yes, maybe Mark had lost countless hours of sleep and was on constant alert for his safety; but Bryan wanted to have his fame, whether it be from his blinding perfection or for the dysfunctions that Mark possessed. If only he could obtain the opportunities that emotions seemed to offer.

He strode to his office, nonchalantly holding onto his briefcase, when he heard a sound coming from Mark's cubicle. While it was most likely him making yet another call to a potential buyer, the chance to catch him in a mistake was much too overpowering for Bryan to simply move on. Taking a few steps back, he peered around the uniform walls, slithering his way down the corridor that led to the stuffy workspace.

"Helena, please, you don't understand."

Bryan bristled at hearing her name mentioned; and mentioned by Mark, of all Cogs. Moving into the empty cubicle next to him, he listened intently for more of the 'incriminating' conversation.

"But YOU don't understand!" she shot back. "I thought we felt something at the banquet, yet you've been avoiding me ever since then! I don't see why, either! We're such an excellent match, you see? We could be an unstoppable couple! Why, with my charisma, talent, good looks, etc…, and your assiduity, we'll make it to the top of the corporate ladder in no time at all!"

"But Helena, shouldn't we be paying more attention to whether we love each other or not? Whether we're even compatible?" Mark reasoned.

"Of COURSE we're compatible! And besides, we don't actually need to LOVE each other… at least not yet. Love IS an emotion, after all. Plus, I have some fantastic ideas on how to get you that next promotion!" She glanced around and lowered her voice. "Jessica may not care much for you, but I see the way she admires your appearance, Mark. I'm sure she finds you attractive. Put in a few favors for her, and you won't even need to work as relentlessly as you do now." She winked at Mark, who shuddered. "And I'm fine with whatever you must do to get ahead. See, I'd be such an amazing partner! SO forgiving and accepting. Isn't that what you need right now?"

He sighed and looked into her lens eyes, trying to find a proper argument. "Helena, I'm not sure I WANT this," he meekly replied, afraid for her reaction.

"You DO want it, I know you do," she simpered back. Without a word of warning, she reached her hands out and grasped onto the sides of his face, pulling him closer to her as her lips met with his. He reeled back suddenly, showing no desire to return her action.

"Hel… en.. a!" he gasped, finally breaking free. He leaned back in his chair and buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I can't do this. It isn't right for me to use you." Even though you're using me, he thought, sadly.

The irritated Number Cruncher quickly rose to her feet. "Fine then, Mark. One day you'll come around, I know it. You'll soon figure out what you want." And with that, she wheeled around and made her way out.

Bryan slinked back into the shadows of the cubicle as Helena passed by, grunting softly. Whatever was going on between them, he didn't appreciate. And what if she was right, and Mark DID eventually accept her offer? He wouldn't stand for that. Making a stealthy exit, he straightened his tie and headed off to work. Mark wasn't an issue, he assured himself. One day, he'd take care of him, and there would be nothing left to stand in his way.

Cupcake and Mark spoke not a word as they continued on their course. Truth be told, they weren't actually angry or upset with each other. If anything, they both felt increasingly guilty for the things that they had said and done. Mark loved Cupcake with his entire being, and he knew how important being his one and only meant to her. For Cupcake, all she wanted was emotional intimacy with her fiancée, and she knew it was only attainable if he continued to share both his joy and his pain.

Soon enough, they arrived at an empty office complex, which had a pristine shine over its metal exterior. Stepping inside, they made their way to the elevator and made a hasty entry. Although Cupcake was slightly unnerved by the emptiness of the building, she composed herself and clicked on the desired floor number, reaching for a handrail as it began its transport.

Mark shifted anxiously as the elevator continued its slow ascent. He continually glanced over at Cupcake, who was staring blankly at the floor level indicator, avoiding any words with Mark. Despite his trepidation in bringing up the subject of Helena again, he knew that it would eventually need to be spoken about. Swallowing nervously, he turned to her and began, his voice wavering, "Cupcake, I'm so sorry for what I said earlier. I honestly didn't mean anything by it. I have never had feelings for Helena. I never have, and I never will. I said she was attractive, but I never said that I was attracted to her. Cupcake, YOU are the only one that I've ever loved or wanted to be with. The only one I'll ever be attracted to."

She looked over at him and sighed. "Mark, I know. I'm sorry, I just can't imagine the thought of you with anyone but me. Selfish, yes; but trust me, I'm just as attracted to you as you are to me. And I know that you don't love her. I know that you love me, and I love you too."

He watched her carefully as she slowly walked over to him and placed a hand over his chest. Locking eyes with her, their gazes communicated a thousand words. His breathing became heavy while Cupcake ran her hand down his torso until it fell off. Mark quietly reached out his thumb and placed it on her bottom lip, wincing slightly as she moved her mouth over it and bit down softly. Without further warning, she inhaled sharply and pushed him up against the side of the elevator, grasping onto his arms and dragging them up the wall as they melted into a passionate kiss. Mark shivered and slid down onto his knees, pulling Cupcake closer as she straddled around his waist and grasped onto his necktie. She fumbled around with it slightly and yanked it off, sighing in satisfaction as he began to kiss down her neck and over her chest. After unbuttoning his jacket and shirt, she slipped her hands through the front and ran her claws over his back.

"Cupcake," he breathed, grabbing onto her waist and slowly moving down.

She moved her hands around on his upper chest and leaned forward, suddenly catching glimpse of her engagement ring. She tensed and released her touch on him, whispering, "Mark; Mark wait."

He immediately looked up at her in confusion, immediately stopping any contact. "I'm sorry Cupcake, I'm sorry," he apologized, remorse written over his features. "I should have asked…"

"No, Marky, it's okay," she assured him, running her fingers through his hair. She smiled and rubbed his back. "It's just… we're so close to marriage, Mark. I want to wait, if that's okay." She giggled. "Besides, handsome, we're in an elevator." Winking, she planted a kiss on his cheek and pushed herself off his lap.

He nodded wordlessly and rose back onto his feet, helping her up. He grinned softly as he looked into her emerald eyes, silently wrapping her in a hug. "How did the most beautiful, precious, fantastic individual in this entire universe come to find me? How am I so lucky? I don't deserve you, Cupcake Doggenbottom. But I love you, for a fact."

Cupcake wanted to cry. How reckless she had been with her previous emotions. "Oh Mark, you sweetheart." She hugged him back, tightly, and lifted herself up to kiss him. Just then, the elevator chimed, and the doors opened, revealing the rest of their group, standing together and awaiting their arrival.

"Oh dear," Brussel murmured as gasps went up from the others. Cupcake chuckled softly and looked up at Mark, who realized what was happening and quickly buttoned up his shirt and suit, watching as Cupcake scurried over to the corner and retrieved his necktie. Several of the others smiled in amusement as well, giving the young couple profound relief.

"Well then," the brown horse said, smirking. "Shall we?"

After regrouping and discussing their new plans, they decided to split up once more and search in different locations. Several holding cells were known to be located at various points in their present sector; some in old manufacturing warehouses, and others in specific prisons for Toons. If their endeavors proved fruitless, then they'd move to the center of Cog Nation, where none were eager to go. With Helena still on their tracks, however, they would need to travel quickly and communicate frequently, and make any critical decisions necessary. While Lord Lowden had promised to send in extra reinforcements if imperative, there was no one who actually believed him, and they feared that they were solely on their own.

Cupcake offered to go with Mark, of course, and asked to be separated, despite the advice of going with a group of no less than four. For some reason they seemed wary of letting her go with Mark alone; as if he'd revert back to his manufactured state and turn on her. Their camaraderie was close to its breaking point. With the death of Squeakers, they realized that the Cogs were indeed past the simple weapon of sadness, and they would not hesitate to kill anyone that came in their path. They were enervated and scattered; a dangerous mix of distress that needed to be addressed. However it would happened and no matter the cost, they needed to find Flippy and get back home. Hopefully, they'd be coming back with the other Rangers as well. Especially Goofenshmirtz, who had been rumored to be challenging Lord Lowden's Resistance management and could possibly be their next leader. Mr. Clear was failing in his duties, and the pig was the perfect candidate.

The pink feline and the accompanying Telemarketer made their way down a corridor situated next to some of the various Cogvillas located nearby. There had been rumored to be a secluded interrogation room deep within the walls, where condemned Toons would be taken before being brought to their final resting place. Since Flippy was such a prominent figure, the very notion of his presence there seemed flawed; yet they were instructed to cover every base and overlook nothing, so they continued with their orders. Cupcake had never realized just how extensive and twisted the world of Cog Nation was. It was a small area of land, since it had been taken from one of the Toon's lesser playgrounds, yet they had managed to incorporate their entire infrastructure within its domain. Label them as monsters, murderers, or heathens, they were still competent and incredibly resourceful. Cupcake was impressed, regrettably. And if they could only learn to compromise with the Toons, then they could have it all.

Cupcake padded softly next to Mark, grateful that their short argument was over. Yet she still hadn't apologized, and she knew that he shouldn't take the blame. "You know, Mark," she began, sadly. "I never really did apologize for my outburst earlier. I let the stress of the situation overwhelm me, and I took it out on you. It was wrong of me, and the last person that I'd want to hurt right now is you. I'm sorry."

Mark reached out for her hand and slipped it into his. "It's alright, Cupcake," he assured her, smiling at her with his warm, brown eyes. "I should have told you, and from now on I need to be honest about what has happened. Thank you for caring, Cupcake. I, I just…" he stopped in his tracks and shivered slightly, earning a confused glance from his companion.

"Marky? What is it?" she asked, looking to the side, where a large opening led out into a roofless courtyard.

"I… I feel like I've been here before," he exclaimed, rummaging through his pocket. "It feels so… familiar…" She stared as he pulled out the bandages that he had acquired from his Cogvilla. He studied them for a moment, then looked back up and gasped.

"What's wrong, honey?" she asked, her tone serious. She walked in front of him and grabbed his hands in hers, the bandages within their grasp. "Mark, remember, you can tell me."

If Mark could have forgotten anything, he wished it could be the memories that were now flooding back to him. "This is the place, Cupcake," he whispered.

"Is this where you were injured?" she asked, curiously. "This is where it happened?"

"Yes," he replied, trying to suppress his fear. Thinking for a moment, he kneeled down and tightened his grip on Cupcake's hands as she followed suit. "Cupcake, I think I'm ready to tell you," he confessed, nervously. "I'm scared, though."

She lovingly kissed the top of his hand and nodded. "Whenever you're ready, Marky. I'm here."

He took a deep breath. "Well, there was this Telemarketer named Bryan, and…"

Mark walked down the desolate corridor which led to the numerous Cogvillas. He fumbled with his tie, feeling the cold, unforgiving air against his metal exterior. There were no signs of life to be seen, and after his many threats from Bryan, maybe that was a good thing. The unnerving silence brought him no repose, however. He felt so alone and vulnerable, realizing that there would indeed be no one to stand behind him if things went wrong. Bryan was a persuasive and influential Cog, and was able to manipulate just about anyone he wanted to.

Just as he was about to pass by a large, structured opening that was situated on his left, he heard footsteps and gentle whispering coming from this direction. It wasn't right that he listen in, of course. But the moment he caught Bryan's voice, his metaphorical heart skipped a beat as he stopped dead in his tracks. Hiding behind the wall, he leaned in closer to catch the conversation, hearing his name mentioned several times. Closing his eyes, he focused on quieting his steady breathing, completely oblivious to the looming figure which glided up the wall next to him. A restless, uninviting presence could be felt, and Mark quickly opened his eyes, gasping in confusion as he felt himself being shoved towards the opening. Stumbling over his clumsy feet, he fell onto the ground and turned his head upwards, watching Bryan and several of his sycophant associates, their bloodthirsty eyes gleaming out of the shadowy recesses. Bryan glided closer, his smile full of anticipation.

"This is going to be so much fun," he hissed, snapping his fingers at those around him. "We've been waiting for so long."

Mark had never been known to be, nor thought of himself as strong, either in will or in physicality. He considered himself quite frail, similar to his emotional state. But now, he felt completely helpless. He inhaled sharply as several rough hands yanked him up onto his feet and dragged him over to a tall, metal tower which poured out an unrecognizable, black smoke into the air above. Now that Mark was standing, he could see just how many Cogs that were surrounding him. And, rather ironically, they were all Telemarketers, each with a vengeance against the Sellbot that they believed had stolen their various successes. Thrust up against the column, Mark shuddered as his arms were pinned down and his antagonists began to literally tear off his clothing. His stomach began to churn as a hundred possibilities raced through his CPU. What did Bryan intend to do to him? Not saying a word, he fell into a short daze as his torso fell bare. His flinched as someone grasped onto a fistful of his hair and twisted his head to face him.

"You have taken so much from me," Bryan seethed, glaring daggers at Mark. If looks could kill, he would already be six feet under. "My rightful reputation, everything I've ever worked for, my woman…" he tensed even more at these last words. "I hate you, and everything you are, and I hope that you feel it." He leaned in and whispered, "I want to make you suffer JUST as much as I have."

Releasing his grip, he stepped back, fully unaware of the Number Cruncher that stood by the entrance to the open, roofless courtyard that they seemed to be stationary in. Mark huffed as his wrists were wrapped around the tower and handcuffed securely. He slumped slightly, terrified for what was about to happen. He sent Bryan a pleading look but was only met with a disdainful glare. He watched in horror as one of the Telemarketers handed the hate-filled Cog a thick, metal pipe. Slapping it against the palm of his hand, Mark adverted his eyes as Bryan moved behind him and bit his lip in dark elation. Pulling his arm away, he then swung the pipe forward and landed it right against Mark's back.

Mark winced in pain and tightened his grip on the handcuffs, slamming his head against the column and gritting his teeth to keep from crying out. He felt as his back became indented from the brutal force, and the unceasing sound of metal against metal resounded throughout the courtyard. And Bryan knew this was illegal. He knew the consequences for assaulting another Cog, but he didn't care, nor did his deranged accomplices. He couldn't be stopped by anyone, nor would anyone try.

Why were Cogs made to feel pain? Mark couldn't think of much with the unceasing throbbing against his back, but this was an ever-present question in his mind. Was it to exacerbate their sufferings? As if their constant, monotonous lives and discord weren't enough? Mark tried to focus on his heaving breath, noticing that his consciousness was slipping. He thought over his own life – how no one had nor would ever truly love him. Mark knew that he could love. He knew that he was capable of giving, and receiving, affection. He knew that if he were really allowed the chance, he could figure out what it meant to find his place… to feel at home.

At this moment, he was snapped out of his muddled thoughts as the pounding upon his back was becoming harder. He didn't know how long he had been tied to that pillar, yet it felt like a small eternity. And then it happened. He heard some of the other Cogs suggest that Bryan should stop, along with a startled cry from the back of the courtyard. Just as he glanced behind his shoulder to catch sight of the familiar speaker, he felt the most excruciating pain shoot through his shoulder and echo throughout his body. Jolting in response, Mark subconsciously pulled against the handcuffs, snapping the chain in two. He slid down to his knees and clenched his head, immediately realizing that something was very wrong.

In a matter of seconds, Helena came rushing over, instantly wrapping her arms around Mark's torso and dragging him away. "Now look what you've done, Bryan!" she exclaimed, practically screaming. She looked down at the limp Telemarketer, who was simply lying in her arms, staring up at them with a blank expression. She quickly noticed the oil seeping from his latest wound, the one that seemed to be causing him the most pain. "Bryan, Cog dammit, did you pierce through his exterior? Do you even realize what damage you could've caused?!" she demanded, pulling out her elastic hairband and doing her best to stop the flow.

He glared down at them, looking almost frightened, yet still showing no compassion. "I don't know, and I don't care! He's a mistake and a replaceable piece of junk. Let him die, for all I care." Throwing down the metal pipe, he began to leave the courtyard, followed by his blind associates. One of the Telemarketers, however, stooped down next to Helena and picked up Mark's legs in his arms.

"We're going to have to get him to his villa and see what we can do," he whispered, grimly.

Nodding in agreement and grateful to have assistance, Helena rose to her feet, taking a tight hold under Mark's arms. She watched the victim carefully, who wasn't uttering a word. He had laid one of his hands upon hers and slid it onto his chest, their interlocked fingers rising and falling along with his faltering breath. Helena felt undeniably guilty. She had stood there, doing absolutely nothing when she should have intervened. There was no reason for such an attack on him, and if she weren't under such intense scrutiny by her peers, she wouldn't have hesitated to alert the Lawbots and have justice brought back to him.

Yet wouldn't they agree with Bryan's methods?

"And they did take me back to my villa. They tended to me as best they could, even though my health was already in the red. I don't remember anything during that next week, but once Bryan heard that I had not died, he attempted to kill me once more by throwing me over the silo in Sellbot Headquarters. He wanted it to serve as a reminder to my colleagues in the HQ, showing them just how emotional disfunctions should be dealt with. And he figured that if I was still somehow alive, any Toon that found me would end me themselves. But… but then you found me, Cupcake. You…" He glanced up at Cupcake, whose face was now buried in her hands. She was sobbing softly, unable to believe what she had heard. "I'm sorry Cupcake, are you alright?" he asked, wanting to cry as well.

Lifting up her tearstained face, she grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled him close to her, as he responded by lying his head on her folded legs and closing his eyes. Neither said another word for some time. They sat there, simply enjoying the quiet of each other's presence.

"Never again, Marky," she eventually whispered, kissing his cheek. "Never again."

HELLena