Hi people and I'm back shipping again!

So yeah, I haven't been here in a while. I've actually been really busy working on my art, college work and personal projects.

I've been kind of up to my neck in assignments lately because I got the bright idea to do two courses at once, but I'm okay- nearly finished!

Now I do have to give a heads up here. There's a moment in the 6:04 segment towards the end that might upset some readers. It's because of this moment,If I'm changing the rating to M. If you do get upset, you're free to leave and read something more wholesome. I won't mind. But what I will ask for is a review so I know if you enjoyed the chapter or if I crossed any lines.

With that said, I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

Chapter 4

Intruders

Friday, May 6th, 2016

1:02 PM

"Zoey?"

Oh God. He's here. He's back. Any other time, I know I would have been euphoric, maybe thrown my arms around him and squeezed him as tight as I possibly could have. Instead, when I feel his cautious touch on my shoulder, I find myself instinctively shrinking away, gripping the crisp pillows with a sniffle.

Why did I do that? Now he knows something's wrong. The second I shifted away, I felt him withdraw his hand. What is he going to do now? What will he say? It's only now I realize I'm shaking. Not just my body. My face, my eyes, my lips, they're wobbling and I can't force them to keep still. How long have we been here? Nearly two hours? Did I really just spend two hours laying here just crying and not tending to my husband? And now I feel like crying again because I spent two hours not doing anything for him.

"Zoey . . ." He's sitting himself down beside me now. I know him. He's going to try and get it out of me. I feel a hesitant finger brushing my hair away from my face, allowing him to get a look, and then a ginger arm trying to find a way to scoop me up without forcing me. I decide I might as well save him some trouble and with another sniffle, sit myself up, hastily brushing the hair and the tears away from my face. He rushed in to help . . . or was he trying to steer my face towards his to make eye contact?

"Zoey, look at me." He was trying to sound firm but with that meek shaky tone, I could tell he was as frightened as I was. Does he know what happened? How can I tell him if he doesn't know himself? He was so convinced for so long that he had gotten over these multiple personalities. He was so insistent that he saw it crystal clear in his head, that he pressed this button to get rid of them all. He told me after the All Stars season, he told Cameron too. I do remember Cameron telling him something along the line of not being able to cure mental disorders with a simple press of a button. But Mike had been so certain about it that I just couldn't bring myself to deny it. Even when Cameron warned him that it was a reset button and not an eradication button, and that could mean that they were never truly gone . . .

I realized I had to look at him. I can't give away any more hints that something's wrong, even though he may have taken a few already. I looked deep into his eyes that seem to be shimmering, almost wobbling inside and take a deep, wet inhale through my nose, trying to fill myself with the courage I needed to answer whatever question he might ask me.

"Yeah?"

His eyes squinted a little, not a lot, but I think we both knew I noticed. I need to change the topic. Fast. And my bathrobe's opened up again. I quickly tugged it over my chest, feeling my face flush over the thought of hiding myself after that wonderful time we had spent together last night. Would we ever have a night like that again? If Chester could show up with a simple bump on the head, what was to stop Vito from interrupting us from sunbathing together (or having any more intimate moments)? Or Svetlana from taking over during the intense endearing action scenes from out favourite kickboxing movies? Or . . . or . . .? The notion was in my head before I could shake it away.

What if he showed up?

"Zoey . . ." He took my shoulders in his hands, squeezing them but immediately loosening his grip when I winced at it. "Please."

"Sorry." I shook my head quickly, fixing eye contact with him again. I tried to smile it off, but his face remained still, cold in spite of the sun peeking through our window to keep the room a hot sticky haven.

"Did . . . someone show up earlier?"

Damn it. He knows. Oh God, what do I say? Do I say yes and break his relief, his cheeriness, his sense of freedom or do I say no when we both know it's a lie and lose my new husband's trust, the one thing needed to keep a strong relationship going? Or is my silence doing all the talking for me?

My husband broke the eye contact and allowed his hands to slide away from my shoulders. They sunk down along with his eyes, taking his head down with him. He was sinking, sinking into deep deep thought.

"Mike?"

"I need a minute. You should go out and enjoy the sun or something."

My first intention was to say no and stay with him, reassure him that there was nothing wrong, but something about that tone urged me to leave him. I found myself getting up from the bed, heading over to the suitcase to find one of the new bikinis I had bought specifically for these two weeks, that were supposed to be the best two weeks of our lives. Right now, it felt like two hours of hell.

I dug my hand into my suitcase, searching for some sort of swimwear. Either the massive pile of clothes were too heavy or I had tired myself out from just laying on that bed like an idiot. Or maybe I was just stalling so I wouldn't have to leave Mike again. I braved a glance at him from behind me. His eyes were shut, his shaky hands clenched together. He had completely withdrawn into himself.

"I'll go outside," I murmured, more to myself than to him. As I finally fished out a bikini, a black one with a scattered pink flower design, I glanced at Mike again and wondered if I should give him a kiss, a hug, some kind words, something. But part of me dared not disturb him and his thoughts, for risk of upsetting him and possibly bringing out Chester, or any other personality I didn't know of yet. It was that part of me that got me edging out the bedroom and into the bathroom to throw off the bathrobe and get into the bikini.

1:34 PM

The beach just didn't feel the same without him. As much as I tried to lie back and soak up the golden sun that seemed to be belting over me, as if it was begging me to enjoy it, any minor breeze brought a shiver. I found myself constantly wriggling around on the sunbed, trying to get comfortable but every movement I made only made me feel worse. Even the orange juice no longer felt special, and every time I took a sip, all I got was bitterness.

I found myself playing around with my diamond ring most of the time, watching it flicker in the sun. Every time it gleamed up, it served as a reminder of the commitment I had made to him.

And then I found myself sitting up in my seat a little. What was it I said to Mike when he first told me about his Multiple Personality Disorder?

Multiples meant that there was more Mike to love.

I remember it more clearly now, and how big it must have been for him to muster up that courage to tell me. I still remember that grip he had on my hands, that look he had in his eyes. He was so scared I would reject him, and yet that was probably the exact reason I fell in love with him. As well as him being sweet, funny and saving me so many times.

You know what? If Mike's personalities were back, be it one or all, old or new, I decided I was going to be more positive about it. Not just for me, but for both of us. If I wasn't there to give Mike the love and support he needed, who else would?

Certainly not Anne and Marc, that's for sure.

Wait.

I dug out my phone and felt a lurch in my stomach as I turned on the data. The signal was as clear and as strong as the summer day. I can't believe I've been with this guy for two years, just married and never thought to ask about this once. And now that the question is on my mind, I'm not sure I want to find out the answer. Maybe that's why I never asked him.

Yet curiosity obliged me to get a search box up.

Do I dare ask the question?

My shaky fingers were saying yes.

I went to type the first word when I heard a stomp behind me. And another. It had to be Mike. And he sounded better too! I sat up again, feeling a wave of relief washing over me. I went to invite him to take the sunbed next to me when I was brashly interrupted.

"Aw heck yeah, that's what I'm talking about. Let's get TANNIN'!"

Crap.

Stop it Zoey, you just decided you're going to be there for him and all his personalities. Smile and be the nice girl.

The smile didn't come easy. Especially when he stamped out in his chain and swimsuit, nothing else. Yep, I know that look. The gelled back hair, the tough guy physique, that obnoxious smirk. It's Vito alright.

Just be nice to him . . .

He's glaring at me. And he's got a scowl. I found myself shrinking down in my seat.

"Yo, what're you doin' ere? This ain't no place for the pasty!"

I had to force a laugh out, and even then it came out more like a scoff. "Well maybe . . . if I stay here long enough . . . I can get a nice tan like you."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, rolling his eyes at me as if I had no right to be here. Sticking his nose up in the air, he held out a demanding hand. "Pass the flippin' sunscreen."

The sunscreen bottle was nestled underneath my seat. I picked it up and raised it towards him. He snatched it off me, nearly twisting my wrist and I gasped as he nearly knocked off my ring. I grabbed it before it could slip from my finger and possibly through the gaps on the wooden deck, oh God . . .

"So, any clubs 'round ere?" Vito was squeezing out nearly the whole bottle of sunscreen.

"Um . . ." My voice was barely above a whisper. It was the politest I could manage. "I don't think so."

"Fuck!"

Any other time, I think I would have retaliated. Or at least imagined retaliating in my head. But for some reason, that remark didn't irritate me as much as it could have. Maybe it was because I was so focused on readjusting my ring. Having it fixed back safely on my finger filled me with relief, even a little joy. Perhaps it was because it reminded me that even through all of this, I was still married to Mike and Mike only. And I would probably see him again soon. As obnoxious as Vito was being right now . . . it wasn't Mike.

I looked up at him and noticed he was eyeing my ring. He wasn't scowling anymore. In fact, there was a curiosity in his eyes. I couldn't believe I was thinking it, but it looked kind of cute for Vito. I found myself twiddling it in his direction, watching it shine on his face. I didn't know why, but it was funny. For once, he didn't look arrogant and full of himself. He looked kind of dumbstruck by the thing.

And then he stopped. He gasped. The bottle of sunscreen slipped from his hand. I found myself leaping from my seat to tend to him.

"Mike?!"

He winced. He made a straining noise of some sort. And then he relaxed. He looked up. He blinked a little, bringing his hand to his hair to brush through it and return it to his signature spiked up look.

"Wh- what happened?" Finally, he glanced at me. And I watched him as he took a moment to put two and two together.

"Please don't tell me-"

"Vito." I had to say it. I couldn't hold it back anymore. He knew that something was up, and I think (well I hoped) that telling him would lift some form of weight off his shoulders.

Mike brought his hand down from his hair to his face, rubbing it over his eyes, letting out a pained sigh as he slumped down into the sunbed. He was sinking into himself again. I sat down in the one opposite him, hoping that would get him to look up at me.

"How can you change outfits with him?"

Thankfully, he looked up for me. And he didn't look too depressed either.

"If I do it quickly enough . . . and get lucky, I can escape it."

I nodded and he chuckled. I didn't know what the chuckle was about, whether he was genuinely feeling better, whether he was laughing at himself, laughing to make some light of the situation . . .

"Mi-"

"Zo-" He stopped. "Sorry, you were gonna say something?"

"No, you go first. Please."

"No, it's alright, you can."

I couldn't help but laugh. It brought me back to when we had first met on Total Drama. One look at him and I could tell that he was thinking about that moment too. And then he laughed with me, which made me only laugh more.

"Hey, there's no drowning people to interrupt us this time!" he pointed out cheerfully.

"Isn't that how we ended up in that discussion in the first place?" I asked, and he laughed again, making me laugh. It was such a relief to hear laughter from him, after seeing him so upset with himself a while ago. I had to leap over and give him a hug and I think I did it with such excitement, I nearly knocked him off the sunbed. His shriek confirmed it, and I ended up letting out my own shriek of laughter. We rocked back on the chair but then back onto the deck and I landed myself on his lap. Our eyes landed on each other in a loving gaze, our laughter fading into a comfortable silence. It opened our ears to the sound of waves washing over the sand. I brought my hand to his face to stroke his cheek and he squeezed me in his arms.

"You were gonna say something?"

I nodded, shutting my eyes, resting my forehead on his, our noses brushing off each other. "So we're married now, which is like an eternal promise to stay together."

With my eyes shut, I felt him nod, his forehead rubbing off of mine. I couldn't be sure but I think his grip around me tightened a little. I brushed his cheek with my thumb as softly as I could.

"Hey . . . I'm keeping that promise, okay? I still love you, multiple personalities or not."

It was easy for me to say. And I think saying it myself, confirmed for me that I was telling the truth. And yet I felt his body start to tremble. His entire body. His face, his arms, his legs. Next thing, he almost shoved my forehead into his lips, and then I was over his shoulder, his arms around my back, so tight, it was almost suffocating. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear his shaky breath. I could feel it over my shoulder. His body was still trembling. I think I felt his heart racing, too fast for me to count. I don't think I'd ever felt such gratitude from him, let alone anyone else. It felt like he was trying not to cry.

"Mike?"

I heard him sigh behind me, his trembling and heart beat slowing down.

"I'm okay." He huffed out another sigh and pulled me back to make eye contact. I prepared myself to remind him that he didn't have to thank me.

"Can you promise me something else?"

I nodded, fiddling with the ring on my finger. "Of course."

He took me by the shoulders, firm but tender at the same time.

"Promise me that if any of them show up, you won't put yourself in a situation that might endanger you in any way."

I had completely forgotten about that. And now that he'd said it, it felt like something I would do, whether it be intentional or just me being clumsy.

"Okay?"

"No seriously, Zoey." He gave my shoulders a shaky squeeze and I felt a rush of urgency in him. "I don't want you putting yourself in danger for me."

I sighed. Part of me wanted to say no, ask if a false alarm would do, ask if there was another way. But Mike sounded so scared. I had to say yes.

"I promise," I whispered and his grip on my shoulders immediately relaxed.

"Okay . . ." He slid his hands down from my shoulders and back around my waist. I felt that soothing silence again, only interrupted by the crash of the waves. I found my head flopping on Mike's shoulder and his head relaxed onto mine. We allowed the hot sun to wash over us. For the first time in a while, I actually felt warmth, a glimpse of the paradise we had so eagerly planned.

And then I felt him lift his head.

"Zoey?"

"Mmm?" It was all I could manage, I was half asleep.

"You know last night?"

My mind immediately drifted back to that magical night, that intimate moment, the strange but delightful feelings I had felt with him on top of me. Part of me wondered if we could find a way to have a night like that again.

"Yeah?"

I felt him take a breath, one that sounded hesitant.

"Did we use protection?"

I felt that chill again. I knew the answer and I think he knew it too.

"Ye-yeah we did."

What are you doing, Zoey?

Even with my head nuzzled into his neck, I sensed him cock his head. "Really?"

"I'm on the pill," I blurted out.

I'm not on the pill. I've never taken the pill. I don't know why I had to lie to him like that.

I think I just want to keep him from feeling any more stress than he needs to.

I just want us to enjoy this special time together . . .

I went to lie down properly and he went down with me, the two of us sinking into the sunbed under the gleaming sun. I buried my head into his neck, and he ran his hands along my back.

"It's nice, isn't it?" I mumbled.

"Mmm." He finally sounded relaxed. "Glad you like it."

I nodded, letting out a blissful croak. I loved it. I really did. I was just glad that he was finally happy . . .

6:04 PM

The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in rich oranges and gentle pinks. I couldn't believe that a whole day of lying down and doing nothing could be so tiring (in a good way). Well maybe we were so relaxed because we had helped ourselves to a . . . decent bit of champagne. Mike had definitely drank more than me. I probably should have complained about him drinking a bit much, but I couldn't bring myself to bring up any form of negativity, the last thing we needed on this honeymoon. Seeing Mike have a few stumbles, knock his hip off a counter but simply laugh it off was enough to encourage me to bite my tongue and pour another one.

With the night drawing in, I had changed into a silk nightgown, ruby red match my hair. Like some of the other (unnecessary) clothes I had bought, it felt a teensy bit on the short side . . . but I think I was too tipsy to care at this point. Well, if I was tipsy, I didn't know what word would describe what Mike was. Whatever it was, I loved it. He had gone from being so depressed this morning to being so happy with everything, finding the smallest thing hilarious, finally beginning to genuinely enjoy himself.

"Hey, make sure you can get up in the morning," I teased, flicking my glass towards him, spilling a drizzle of champagne onto the floor. "We've got lots of stuff to do tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," he murmured in a laid back tone. "Dontcha worry, I got plans for us." He then grabbed the quarter full bottle to refill his glass. "Last one, I promise."

I rolled my eyes playfully, taking a sip from my fourth glass that was full to the rim. I heaved it up into the air towards him, spilling even more. He tutted playfully and raised his own glass to join mine.

"Cheers to our new life together!" I hollered and we clanked our glasses off each other so we could drink. For some reason, I decided to see if I could drink the whole glass in one. It didn't work. One drop got stuck in my throat, I let out one cough and the rest of the champagne splattered out my nose.

"ZOEY!" I heard Mike screech next to me and I felt a brief sense of panic that maybe I might have startled him. But then his laugh settled me down . . . even more than I already was. I collapsed into heaps of laughter on the counter and he collapsed over me, smacking the counter in hysterics. I felt my face tinting red to match my hair and nightdress. Tears were streaming down my face. But they were tears of laughter. Laughter. The best sound for a married couple to hear.

"Alright, I'm going to bed," I wheezed smacking the glass down on the counter. Even when I stumbled, I still felt comfortable leaving Mike to his own devices for a while. I found my way to the bedroom and let myself collapse onto my stomach, letting out a pleasured groan as I landed on the soft crisp bedsheets. My head landed in a way that allowed my eyes to gaze out the window. Funny how just a few minutes ago, there was that golden sunset, and now, looking out, all I could see was dark night, scattered with stars. Just the sight of it made me yawn. I started to feel that heavy sleepiness about me. As I let my eyes settle down, I heaved a heavy arm up to tug my nightdress down a bit more. It was barely worth the effort.

Behind me, I heard a click and everything went dark. Mike must be coming shortly. Now that I thought of it, I didn't hear him laughing anymore. In fact, the entire hut seemed rather quiet.

No wait, I heard his footsteps. Slow, heavy footsteps. Considering how much champagne he had, he was probably trying to feel his way down to the bedroom. I sighed and let myself sink deeper into the bedsheets, trying to keep myself awake enough so I could invite him over to fall asleep with me.

I wonder what we would do tomorrow?

A swim would definitely be nice.

And we hadn't tried that giant bathtub yet.

Who cared if Vito or any of them showed up? I could find a way to get my Mike without throwing myself in harm's way.

Maybe we could have some more champagne.

Maybe . . . I smirked.

I caught myself drifting off, but just managed to wake myself back up, when I heard a footstep outside. At this point, I was so tired (and possibly so drunk) that I couldn't even move, just briefly nod at the spot beside me.

"You coming, Mike?" My voice croaked.

I waited. But for some reason, he didn't respond. I couldn't see him, but I could hear his breathing and it sounded heavy. Unusually heavy.

Maybe it was the alcohol?

I heard another firm footstep. And another. It didn't sound like he was heading towards his side of the bed. It sounded like he was heading towards me. It lifted a weight off my body, but in a feeling that wasn't relief. I found myself instinctively bringing my hand to my nightdress, tugging it over my rear again.

What was I thinking? He was probably coming over to tuck me in. Or kiss me goodnight.

That was it . . . right?

I heard one last footstep, right by my side. The floor creaked. He was still breathing, that weird heavy breathing I had never heard from him before.

What was he doing?

I suddenly felt the touch of his fingers on my face, a cold touch that gave me chills. I gasped, trying to keep it between my teeth. No, wait, I think he was just brushing the hair from my face. Yeah, I think he was just being weird from all the champagne. It was probably what was giving me those weird feelings right now.

I allowed myself to relax.

And then he grabbed me by the waist.

"Mi-"

"Easy now."

With one hand, he grabbed my head and pinned me down; with the other, he yanked my nightdress up, nearly ripping it off completely. I went to scream, but my voice was muffled by the smother of pillows. I felt him climbing over me, his breathing getting louder. I tried to get up, but I knew that he was on top of me, his weight pinning me down, his hands making a grab for my underwear.

I screamed again for no one to hear. I made helpless grabs for his face, but even if I could reach him, my position made it impossible for me to fight back. My hands searched around frantically for something that would save me when my right one caught something hard, cold, a metal of some sort. A lamp!

And I didn't even hesitate to swing it over me. Immediately, I felt an impact. I heard him grunt, a pained one. And I felt his grip loosen on me.

"GET OFF OF ME!" I screeched, sliding away from him, flailing the lamp in my hand like one of the wild creatures back at Wawanakwa. I swung and I swung and I somehow managed to nail him on the right side of his face, shattering the glass bulb over him. The impact was enough to knock us both back. I scrambled as far back into the bed I could go, frantically tugging the bed sheets over my body with one hand, the other one clinging onto my weapon.

I can't believe it.

I hit my husband.

He was sitting on the opposite wall, hunched into the corner, his shorts nearly down to his knees. And he looked just as stunned as I probably did. I saw him bring his hand to his face, where I had struck him. Was he bleeding? Had I hurt my husband? I couldn't tell. Most of his hair had fallen over his eye . . .

That's when it struck me like the lamp in my hand. Even with the sheets over me, I felt a deathly chill all throughout my body. I think my breathing stopped altogether.

His breathing didn't stop. He began taking short sharp breaths. And then one big gasp, his body sprawling out before settling down. I waited, trying to keep my body from quivering, wrapping my arms around my legs. He just sat there, blinking in confusion. He looked down at himself and seemed to notice how far pulled down his shorts were. I saw his body freeze, and I knew that he felt that same paralyzing chill. He looked up at me. He saw me hugging my shaky body, the sheets pulled protectively over it, my hand clinging onto the lamp for dear life.

He knew.

What was he going to do now?

I waited for him to do something, or even say something. But he just sat there. His were fixated on me, and yet they looked so lost at the same time. He was sinking into depths of thought that I couldn't bear to think of.

Suddenly, he took off. Just like that, he got to his feet and sprinted out the room. I heard the hut door being thrust open and slammed shut before I could even think of calling after him. In a few seconds, I was left completely on my own with nothing but darkness and a broken lamp.

I couldn't move. I couldn't say anything. I couldn't even cry. All I could do was sit there. And shiver. And wait. And wonder.

What was going to happen to us?

And there's a cliffhanger to leave you on for another two years (hopefully not!) X'D

For those who made it to the end, I hope you got something out of it and I didn't go too far. I'd like to think that there won't be more intense scenes like that in the future. I'd also like to think that I've left you with some questions.

What was Zoey going to look up on her phone? Will Zoey get away with her fib? What's Mike going to do about the return of you-know-who?

Anyway, please Read and Review and be sure to check out my other stories and accounts, where I am more active. And until next time, GiLaw the Sparky loves you all!