FLEETING MOMENTS
Ch. 11
ONE LITTLE SIP
He was on the bridge again.
Standing there in the cold moonlight, looking over the railing at the churning water below, Marco felt a tug to jump from the concrete safety, and let that darkness take him. He had no earthly tether to stay, to fight on, to relinquish his will, but what kept him in place was something… not of this Earth.
He gripped the railing with a frozen fist, but his other was held behind him, clasped with another, one that brought warmth and comfort to the deepest reaches of his chest. With a slow turn, he looked to see what was keeping him grounded, what could be keeping him from his peace at such long last.
Unsurprisingly, it was her.
Star stood behind him, her golden hair flowing like wheat in a field against the lazy wind. Her white dress was elegant, yet simple, perfectly framing her figure into a billowing skirt. Of course, they'd come here on a date, right? That had to be why they'd come back, not that he had any memory of coming here before. They must have just been out for a stroll when he lost his compo- "You said you were better," she whispered, drawing his eyes up to hers. They were red, and puffy from crying, and she had scars on her arms and across her lip.
"You were getting better… I thought I was helping you," those words pulled at his heart, but Marco couldn't speak. He couldn't move, but he could feel a tug in either direction, one to the frigid water rushing below, and one to the girl who'd saved him from it. "You keep coming back here. You said things were different now that you had me."
He wanted to run from the river, from the bridge, to leave and never look back for as long as he lived. She was pulling at his hand to take him away, but he wouldn't budge, not in either direction. He couldn't speak, staring into her pleading eyes with grief, with loss, but he couldn't move.
"You lied to me. I thought I was fixing you, but you just keep coming back. Why won't you let me save you? Why do you not trust me? Why won't you let me in? Why are you still Marco?"
Try as he might, he couldn't give her an answer. He couldn't meet her tears with the honest truth and tell her everything she wanted to hear. She had earned his trust, he had let her in, he was different. But they were still here, and he couldn't answer her. She was beautiful in every way, even when she cried, and all he wanted to do was pull her close and make her feel needed. But he couldn't, and he knew it would only push her away.
"If you won't… let me help you, then I won't force you to change," she spoke just above a whisper. Her voice was cracked, choked back from the scream she wanted to relieve. "But I've changed, and I don't like what I'm turning into. I need you to help me too, but you keep coming back here."
"I want you to take me away from here," Marco finally answered, but his voice came with no effort. He spoke his plea with not but a breath, his mouth not moving to form the words. "Star… I don't want to be here. I want to be with you. I want you to-"
"Then change," she pleaded, pulling at his arm with more force than before, the wind curling around her cheeks to ripple her hair like a lake of liquid gold. "I love you, Marco. You are worthy of love. But we need to change." Her eyes were pooling with tears, but he couldn't bring himself to let go of the railing. It pulled at him just as hard, and the water was far deeper.
"I… I don't know how," Marco whispered, and after a long moment, Star loosened her grip on his hand. She stared at it like it was all she'd ever wanted, like it could promise her the world, and every star beyond it. He wanted so badly to let go, but it was all he knew, it was a part of him now.
"Then I'll… find my own way," Star muttered, dropping his hand to his side. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "When you're ready, come find me, and I'll fix you up, okay? But… i can't stay here with you forever, waiting for you to let me help."
He watched her as she took a step back, struggling to find the words to keep her beside him and release them with fervor. He wanted her help, he wanted to let go, he needed to be with her. But with every step further she took, he could feel the water below pulling him closer. It was pulling him down from the bridge, down into the past. The water was freezing cold, ripping the air from his lungs and chilling him to his bones. It was so dark in the river, down from the bridge, away from Star, until he realized he was lying on his back, and he couldn't move.
Marco wrenched his eyes open and gasped for air, huffing the shivering cold away as he threw his eyes around to assess his surroundings.
He was in a cave, staring up at the ceiling in a bed he'd been tied to, and with a rush of cold he felt his head scream in pain, a soreness flooding his body. He was beaten and beaten badly, every muscle groaning from intense strain. He fought against his bindings, desperate to move even a-
"Nice to see you're still one of us."
Marco stopped his struggle long enough to look to his left, and see Alwen sitting beside him. He was bandaged all across his right side, with a half wrap around his temple. His arm was in a sling, but if he was in pain, he didn't show it. And beside him, Star sat in much the same condition. She had bandages all up her left arm, and a few patches on her face, but otherwise she looked the same as their old leader.
Marco stared at the two in shock as the events of the last day slowly came back to him in waves of headache. His fight with the staff in the holding cell, his carving wave up through the Cathedral, his fight with Alwen and Star, and then… his dream. He slumped back in place and stared at the ceiling in silence before finally asking, "how bad is it?"
A minute of poached silence rolled by, Star keeping her eyes glued to the floor as Alwen seemed to struggle with an answer. It was a deafening quiet between the three of them, but finally Alwen gathered his composure enough to shake his head. "Three men, two women," he grumbled, though not entirely directed at Marco, "we buried them yesterday, but some of the men are having a service this evening. So I would recommend you make yourself scarce, and stay out of trouble."
More silence.
Marco gave them a short nod, his eyes vacant as his mind raced. He made the choice to drink the vial, to put himself in such a state. He made so many decisions he didn't have to, and now they were here, tied and bandaged from their fight. "I'm sorry. I made a bad call, and you all had to pay the price. This is… all my fault."
Most notably, Star hadn't said a word, but Alwen gave a shrug, standing from his chair and stepping closer to the bed. "Then you'll do a fine job of paying us back for all the blood you spilled," he said in a grumble, undoing the restrains as quickly as one hand would allow, "you seem to be yourself, for now, so don't expect an easy treatment from the rest of them for what happened."
Even as he finally undid the clasp to Marco's bindings, he offered in addition, "but… don't blame yourself, boy. I've seen more men fall to that wine than I'd care to admit. It's no secret amongst our ranks what happens any time that poison is involved. You did something extraordinary and we can learn from it. Both of you."
Star didn't say a word, didn't look at Marco, didn't offer any hint at acknowledgement. Marco rubbed his raw wrists, and as another minute of droning silence filled the room, Alwen took to reading the mood. He cleared his throat and stepped aside, gesturing to both of them indiscriminately. "You both are to report to a debriefing, at your earliest convenience," he mumbled, rubbing his neck and shoulder, "take your time, eat something, rest… talk, then come find me when you're ready. And don't let this eat you, you'll be alright."
The door clicked shut without resistance or consideration, and once again the room was plunged into deafening, oppressive silence. As Star stared at the floor, pointedly avoiding Marco's eyes, all he could think of was the dream, and how desperate she'd been for him to change. She was trying to help in her own way, and she was… just as lost as he was, just as stuck.
"I'm sorry-"
"I'm sorry-"
They both started in unison, and both met the others' gaze before Marco gestured to himself. He looked… depressed, now that she got a good look at him, like they were back to square one on Earth and he was waiting for her to move along. In truth, he didn't have a whole lot to celebrate over, so she couldn't exactly blame him, but it was still worrying.
"You have every right to hate me," he began, ignorant to the way Star caught her breath. "I shouldn't have made you go alone, and I should have known better than to take this place on by myself. I put you, and everyone else here in danger because I tried to do this solo, because I wanted to think I was something I'm not. I got cocky, and I fucked up, Star. You were right, about everything."
For a moment, she didn't answer him, weighing every facet of his apology. She wanted to hear it, ever since that morning she'd wanted to hear him admit he was wrong, but now? It didn't make her happy, and she only let her expression deepen into a frown. "I know I was right," she grumbled. It was barbed the way she said it, but she knew he didn't need or deserve any more guilt than he'd already been saddled with. He didn't need to feel like she did after the village, so she left it at that, and decided to try another angle. "How do you feel? Apart from almost dying?"
"To be honest? Like shit," he hissed immediately, shifting his weight off of his back to sit up, "I could really use a drink right about now, and maybe a good long coma to sleep this-" Star slugged him in the arm, eliciting another wince of pain as he met her glare.
"Don't joke like that! I was really worried about you, and you don't get to have fun at my expense after that stunt you pulled!"
But Marco remained steadfast against her scathing regret and offense. "What choice did I have?" He asked incredulously, letting himself get defensive, "We… We got ambushed, beaten, and taken to the camp, Star!. They knew we were coming and they were ready to torture more information out of us!"
Star paled, making to offer some kind of condolence in spite of her earlier outburst, but Marco met her eyes with a grimace. "Someone talked, but they didn't say who. We barely escaped and fought with everything we had, even though we agreed we'd probably die. They had Duvante, and I found that vial in one of the wagons, after a guy threw me through it… and…"
"And you drank some crazy black goo with no idea what it was? Like an idiot?" Star asked. She knew it was largely unfair to accuse him like that, but after what he'd put everyone through, including himself, she felt it was deserved.
Marco nodded.
"Luc- Duvante said it would kill me, but from how scared the enemy looked when I held it? I figured it was fifty-fifty that it'd get us out of there. I didn't have a choice," he continued, letting out a pained sigh. "Annnd, I kinda thought it might do something cool."
"Like what? Kill you really really fast?" Star asked with sarcasm, gesturing to his wounds and hers with animosity. "Honestly Marco, can't you think past the next thirty seconds? I mean, what would've happened if it was acid? Or poison? I'd be stuck here without you and-"
"And you'd find a way to move on."
He didn't look at her, even as he said it. He said it like it was a genuine fact, and despite her knee jerk response at it being a stupid joke, Star felt her resolve crack. He sounded serious, like he wasn't sure what he'd hear back, but he knew she couldn't disagree. "Of course I would, stupid," she scoffed, eliciting a tense start that shivered through his body, "But I'd miss that mug of yours, too. You think I stayed with you on the bridge and lived in your house and followed you around all day because it's fun?"
He shrugged.
Star rolled her eyes and nodded. "Alright, maybe at times, it is a little fun. But of course I would miss you, I was beside myself waiting for you to wake up and I didn't have a clue what I'd do if you didn't. I'm stuck out here, not like you, but with you, and I don't want to go home unless you're coming with me, you got it?"
Only then did she realized she was rambling again.
She'd been getting better at it since they got here, as her excitement was something that rarely came to a head, but Marco seemed so captivated by her response. He was staring at her, his cheeks blooming a rare scarlet, and despite her resolve, her cheeks flushed to match them. He nodded, slowly, the two staring at one another for a pleasantly uncomfortable moment before Star coughed into her hand.
She remembered too well the way Pezmal had been acting, the questions he'd asked, and his… encouragement on the matter. "Ahrm. Besides, you're like, my best friend," she continued, gesturing around the room as if it could distract him for even a moment, "putting aside the logistics of trying to go home without you… Like I said when I grabbed you on the bridge: I'll keep you from drowning, but we need to fight together. No more solo ops, no more running off to fuck things up on our own; I'll have your back… if you have mine."
He didn't like thinking about that night. Not as often as he had been as of late. But she was right, again, and he knew it. "Thank you again, for saving me," he offered in a low voice, pulling her attention to his eyes. They looked warmer, more hopeful, and captivated by her own, but were still shaded by guilt and a fear of the unknown. "I'm scared, Star," he admitted with difficulty, refusing to meet her gaze, "this place is so messed up, and I… I need you, because I don't wanna die in a different dimension. I don't know what I'm doing, but all I do know is that I can only do it with you."
Star felt her cheeks burn at the admission, her head swirling with too many unnecessary and unreliable probabilities. It was frightening, but exhilarating. Enticing, but dangerous. "You don't have to- we won't- I think we-," she floundered for a moment as Marco watched her, and after a few more sputtered rambles, she let out her frustration in a sigh. "Alwen said we should make ourselves scarce for a bit. ...Do you still… wanna get a drink?"
As if to answer her call, Marco's stomach let out a warbling rumble as he stared at her in muted embarrassment. She stared right back with barely leashed laughter before he grumbled, "what? It's been like, three days, I'm hungry. Sue me."
"It's been four. And I'm so-ho sure big, broody Marco is 'hungies' for a-"
*grooooowwwwll*
Marco watched as her cheeks bloomed nearly violet before he let out a chuckle. "I thought so, hard-ass. Let's go see if there's a tavern around here with a meal and some booze. I feel like everyone's gonna drink their problems away tonight, and I don't wanna feel left out."
O - O - O - O - O - O - O
No less than two hours later, after an uncomfortable trek by horseback to the only tavern Alwen could point them to, Star and Marco had made it to the seedy little corner of the multiverse unfazed by war. It was a little farther than they'd have liked, but Alwen had assured them that he frequented the establishment, and that they wouldn't be bothered while they disappeared for a moment to… talk. Thankfully, Star had been willing to drive, as he really shouldn't have been standing, much less horseback riding. But he was fine, having taken worse hits during his early days of boxing, as he promised up and down.
"Really?" Star asked, helping him sit down in a booth rounded in the corner of the tavern. He gave her a deadpan look, shaking his head to hide the wince. "Nah… you're a damn freight train."
For the first time since they left the cave, Star managed a genuine smile, though it was fast to dissolve once she'd sat down. "Can I see your hands?" Marco asked, leaning forward and gesturing with his own. She looked down at her palms, a self conscious thread being plucked in her mind. "Why?" She scoffed, shoving her hands under the table, "if you're trying to compare calluses, you're probably gonna win. I am still a princess, you know."
Marco didn't answer. He just met her eyes with a look of genuine concern, and it felt like another thread had been plucked to bring her front down. With a rose hue to her cheek marks, Star slowly brought her hands up to show, her eight fresh scars still mending behind her knuckles. Marco winced, for her expense this time.
"I'm sorry, again," he offered helplessly, "I uh… I don't think those are going away anytime soon."
All she felt inclined to give him was a shrug, the Mewman girl relaxing in their little booth. "I could say the same about the rest of me, you know," she noted with a lopsided grin, stowing her hands in her pockets, "Sorry bud, but you're stuck with the Star Butterfly." It might have been a trick of the light, but she could swear she saw him blush?
Marco leaned on his good hand, looking out over the bar, and trying not to overthink her comment. His latest dream had given him plenty to think about on the ride over, and he was doing his best to ignore it. "Fine by me, I need someone to watch my back," came his offhand remark, noting how lively the shady little joint really was, "Plus, I do kind of owe you one."
As Star flagged down one of the barmaids, she gave Marco a wry grin, one teaming with bad news. After the kind, burly woman placed two mugs of ale down, she flashed him the same smile, offering, "or, ya know. However many of these it takes to help me forget what a shithole this universe is."
Marco blew a raspberry and shook his head, stifling a laugh. "What would that be? Like three beers? Maybe four?" He chuckled as Star stared at him, waving the hysterics aside. "You're pretty lightweight, despite the fact that you hit like a rhinoceros."
To that, she wanted to be offended, but it was difficult to choose which part of his many transgressions to respond to first. "I can handle my drink, actually, probably even better than you can," she snorted, leaning across the table and slamming down a mug for him, "and I don't do anything like a rhino!"
Silence stretched between them for a moment before Marco flashed her a surprising grin, and slammed back his ale in one go. He set down the empty cup, and with mounting horror, Star realized she didn't actually remember if Marco had ever been drunk. What she did remember, was being carried back to his room in a drunken stupor, making all sorts of noises and a total fool of herself. But this time, she wouldn't go down without a fight.
He was challenging her, and with a flurry of foam and chugging, Star slammed down her empty cup just as fast, grinning madly across the table. He didn't look impressed, but holy hell, he took quick note of the wide eyes she grew as the seconds went by.
*hic*
A smile played across his lips. "Fancy… a little wager?" He asked with a coy confidence she'd seen all too often when they were back home.
*hic*
She'd drank too fast, but she wasn't set to be outdone so easily. Star shot him a withering glare before flagging down the barmaid for two more ales. "Sounds like a 'yes'," he coaxed, earning a quick nod and a *hic*. "The first one to tap out, obviously gets escorted home. But, they gotta do the winners' laundry, for a week."
*hic*
She didn't look impressed, taking a smooth, slower sip of her ale to clear her hiccups with a chest thumping sigh. "How about instead, the loser has to take me on a date." The moment those words escaped her lips, she wished she could smother them in a sheepskin and bury them at the bottom of a lake. It was the first thing she could think of, but why did it have to be that? 'Why the hell did you just say that?! What the heck is wrong with you?!'
"Easy deal," Marco blurted before he could stop himself, too wrung up in her little display to think twice. 'Wait… what did she say? Nahh, she was kidding. Why would she-'
Two glasses of frothy amber liquid were all but slammed down on the table by the muscular barmaid. She eyed the two young adults and scoffed, rolling her eyes above a smile. They were helpless, really.
Star followed the woman's gaze down toward the table, staring at her drink with mounting dread. She could play it off as a joke, right? There was no way he thought she was serious. After all, she'd told Pezmal up and down not two days prior that they didn't have time for that kind of nonsense. Plus, Marco definitely wasn't the kind of… she was staring at an empty glass on the other side of the table. She looked up, finding Marco smiling with a foam mustache perched above his real one. 'He… he drank it that fast?'
Why was she getting so flustered? He was making it hard to think, and it brought forth an unusual feeling after weeks of fighting for her life in this dimension, but she didn't want to give it up either. Setting aside the circumstances, for now she was having fun, riding a feeling that was as familiar as it was fleeting, and she wanted to chase it. It made her feel normal, like her life hadn't gone down the outhouse.
Marco watched her chug her drink, forcing a smile as he wiped away the foam. He didn't really feel like drinking so much, not all at once, he didn't want to be outside, or around people. But with Star?
'Then change.'
'...I don't… know how…'
He was forcing a smile, forcing himself to go out, forcing himself to be something he wasn't. But he didn't want to relive that fear, the pain of being left behind because he couldn't change. He wanted to show her- or… Star, that he could. She was the only constant in this terrifying world, and things were getting strained. She wasn't the enemy, she was the only person he could trust, and he wanted to make things better before she realized she didn't need-
"Marco? What… happened to you?"
For a moment, he started, worried she may have seen clean through his shift in attitude. She could read people pretty well, so what was to say he wasn't advertising his motives on full blast? But, just to be sure… "What do you mean 'happened' to me? I think you kicked my ass, I kicked yours, pretty straight forward."
Star fell into a sort of pout that wasn't exactly annoyed, but impatient. "When we first met, you said you were all alone. And when we were in Primrose, you mentioned… dating… and you said you were going through some stuff a year ago." She watched him carefully, the way his grin faltered in a half-step. "So… what happened to you?"
And like a frigid breeze, there it went. His forced smile wilted, and for a moment Star let herself worry she might have asked something she shouldn't have. He was cagey at the best of times, and stubborn, and broody, but now? He didn't close off like she expected. He just looked out across the tavern, his face falling, but not in anger.
"I uhh… I pushed people away, because of something I did," he offered in a low voice, "and when you push people away, everyone assumes the worst of you. I lost friends, people started to resent me, and I couldn't take back… anything. I messed up, let's leave it at that."
She looked at him, confused as she listened to his half hearted answer. Someone who'd helped him like Star had deserved a better answer than that, but for now, he couldn't give her one, and she seemed to understand the intent well enough. "Do you think we'll make it back before we don't have anything to go back to?" She asked, her voice low like his. It sounded like a question that'd been on her mind for some time.
"What's with all the heavy questions?" He asked, turning back to face her. Two more glasses were placed between them, and Star was the first to drink hers, pounding back the cup and shrugging.
*hic*
"I dunno, just… trying to understand you a little more. We've been together for almost a month now, haven't we?"
Marco's cheeks bloomed scarlet as he choked on his drink, hacking through suds as Star matched his expression and frantic response. "N-not like that or anything, but I mean- we… I just-"
"I think we might have to move," he offered quickly, desperate to save her from whatever floundering display that was. Why was she acting so nervous and flustered all of the sudden? "But if you still wanna crash at the same place, I'm game. I actually… have a pretty alright savings account, so we can get by."
The idea of 'crashing' someplace together again piqued her interest, especially as he went on to explain jobs and such, but it wasn't enough to warrant another question. After all, she was pretty loaded back home, and as Marco finished his drink to flag down two more, the question took a turn in that direction.
"So, tell me about Mewni," he asked as if he could read her mind, "you talked about it a bit in Primrose, but what's that place like to make someone like you who comes saving damsels like me all the time?"
He waited for her to answer, her expression faltering just like he knew his had. She looked like she was trying her best to keep a straight, noncommittal front, but thanks to the ale, and the content of their conversation, she wasn't doing a very good job at it.
"I'm sure you remember, but it's not as peaceful as Earth. It's more like this place, actually," she noted, gesturing to the tavern proper, but also to the world around them, "the Mewmans have been at war with the Monsters for about thirty years, but after my Grandma was killed by their leader, my mom took the front, and made some major changes. She ended the war by killing the guy who killed her mom, a lizard named Toffee, and forced all the monsters into subjugation. Kinda… like the Crown here, but worse. It's a lot like the rebellion, honestly, where the monsters will fight back where they can… but over the last decade and a half… it's only gotten worse. It's a powder keg waiting for a spark, and I was raised with the expectation that they'd want a second try at war."
Star remembered her training, the long days under the sun practicing to be something she was later taught to abhor. "We used to be pretty peaceful, like this place, but now we're… a lot stronger, and wilder, like this place. My dad, when he was alive, wanted me to be a fighter, in case things went south. I was trained, I fought, and things weren't so bad. I felt like I had a place where I fit in. But when he was… killed, my mom tried to make me a future queen, to be proper and ladylike and respectful, so that her changes wouldn't erupt into a firestorm. If I ever go back, I hope I have the chance to fix things, and undo the damage weve done for decades. And… well? You can see how I turned out. That's Mewni for you."
Marco had been staring at her, and she'd been rambling. But he didn't look bothered by the extent of her tale as much as the content of it. "That's… insane," he muttered, but Star gave him a shrug as two more drinks were plopped on the oak booth. "Eh, it's home. Or at least it was," she noted, "but, I like Earth better. People don't throw me out and ditch me, you know?"
"Not for a lack of trying," Marco whispered over the rim of his glass, eliciting a kick from under the table. Star glared at him. "Asshole."
"Ehhhh ya love me."
Star felt her cheeks bloom, entering their near permanent state of rose, but thank cob, Marco was too busy downing his ale to notice. What the hell was going on? Her attention was drawn back across the table as Marco cleared his throat over his mug. "If we really are playing the 'get to know you' game, it's your turn."
Nodding and shaking off her stupor, Star finished half her drink before asking, "Do you remember anything from… the fight?" For a moment, Marco didn't really answer, but she couldn't blame him. He was in one hell of a state of mind at the time, and dying, so it wasn't too crazy for him to have a bit of a fuzzy recollection.
"I think I only came around after you hit me with a rock? Or a bat?" Star nodded. "You uhhh… you said some things, when you were a butterfly. But that's about all I got."
"Bad things?"
There was a twist of worry to her voice, but they both knew what kind of state Star was in whenever she took on that other form. Marco felt his cheeks bloom as he tried to remember what all was said, and done. "Nahhhh…. Just- you were uhh… straddling me," he started, desperate to ignore how petrified Star looked at the thought, "its all really fuzzy, like I wasn't really in my own head. You told me I belong to you, and I was already fading in and out at that point."
Star was paler than normal, a far cry from her cheeks. She'd practically been blushing the entire time they'd been there, not that it wasn't cute in its own way, but what was her deal? Did he do something while he was that thing?
"Really… Oh…. Coooooooool," she mouthed, slowly finishing her drink, as Marco took to matching her.
"It's really not a big deal, Star," he tried to reason, "I remember drinking that stuff, I know I was asleep for a long time, and I woke up when you… pulled my heart out of my chest."
There she went, her eyes going blank as the memory was returned to her. "I… what?"
Two more drinks were placed on the table, a steady collection growing between them. "Nah, it's fine, trust me. Doesn't even hurt… as much," Marco offered as he took and finished his glass with difficulty, "Plus, I think we're even. You were the crazy moth thing, you weren't in control, we kicked the shit out of each other, and I needed you to stop me."
For whatever reason, Star felt her attention hanging on those three words in particular, like they brought a warmth to her chest that only alcohol could copy. She took another drink. 'You told me I belong to you.'
"So, how was your mission with the pretty boy?" Marco found himself asking, not generally caring, but feeling it was a safe turn for their conversation. Especially given how hypnotized Star looked. "I never really got a chance to ask, since uhh, you know. I bet four gold coins he tried to ask you out."
As Marco took his drink in stride, Star felt a smile creep across her lips. "Awwww, is Marco a little jelly for his Butterfly in shining armor?" She cooed.
"Psh. Dudes armor, last time we played that game," he scoffed, and after another kick under the table, and a good stream of wincing and ale, he continued, "anyway spill it. Gimme the goods and pay up, princess."
"Well, I don't… think so? I mean, he asked to go get drinks, he was super friendly, but that doesn't really sound like a date to me," she explained with care, "he was mostly just awkward, asking questions about me, that kinda stuff."
Marco rolled his eyes. Jeez, she was hopeless. When someone asks you to go get drinks, and asks a lot of questions… and acts super awkward… He set down his empty glass. 'Wait a damn minute… is this…' He stared at her, letting the dumbfounding suspicion and realization wrap around his shoulders. He wasn't stupid, and he wasn't overreacting, this could turn into a probel,problem, very quickly.
"But it was alright in the end," Star continued, ignorant or naive to his shift in expression, "we found the caravan, sicked a big crazy needle elephant on them, and stole all their shit! Soooo, pretty good, yeah." Whatever weird face he was making, it quickly shifted to one of impressed surprise as she stole his momentum to ask, "sooo, how was uh… Duvante? Did she… try anything?"
"Not like you're probably guessing," he answered, though he wasn't sure what exactly she was guessing. Two more drinks were placed between them, but this time, neither of the two chased down their glasses. "If you're asking if she tried to kill me, no. But she uhhh, she… well, she did kiss me, and we talked about why she's in the rebellion."
Star was staring at him, her eyes wide above a blush, but this time, it wasn't cute. She looked murderous, like he'd slapped her across the table. She couldn't be jealous like that… could she? "Before you go jumping to conclusions, it was an accident," came his damage control, and not a moment too soon, "when we were locked in a cell, neither of us could see anything. And she wasn't stupid enough to get mad about bumping into me. Though, she did add a bruise to the collection."
That seemed to calm her down enough, and with a flurry, Star gulped down her cup in one go, tossing it into a pile with the others. "At least she didn't *hic* try anything weird."
"Hah, nahhh. I still gotta go a few rounds with you, first," Marco noted with a laugh. But across the table there came a fit of sputtering coughs and gasps as Star blushed through her hearts. "Marco! Why would- we can't just- right now?!" She demanded, earning a cocked eyebrow for her display. For extra posterity, Marco moved his arm to feel a pop in his shoulder. "Probably not a good idea to fight today, no," he answered with a pained shrug. "I'm not in the best shape, as you can see, so you'd probably put me down by the first bell."
Star could have melted on the spot from relief and barely leashed embarrassment. Holy shit what the hell, the guy could be so clueless sometimes! But here and now, Marco was anything but clueless. He knew what she was thinking, and swinging his glass back to match her pace, he wondered where this was coming from.
Oh she'd fallen for it, as expected, but that display was dramatic even by his standards. What… happened to her while he was out? They weren't stupid, and they were both adults, so it wouldn't be weird to talk about… things like that. But like this?
Another set of glasses and Star took hers first, staring at the foam with a lopsided grimace. Last time she'd had this many, she was dancing on a table, but Marco didn't even look phased. How many had it been? She was definitely tipsy, and losing her grip, but he had to be feeling something right?
"Why'd you trust me, that night?" He asked, noting her tilted expression before explaining, "you found a total stranger on a bridge, and sure you helped me out, but you came back to some guys house and showed them magic when they gave you a place to crash. Why?"
She was definitely tipsy, and after she took a long sip of her drink, she noted with confidence, "I'm pretty good at reading people, and you're basically an open book, despite how closed off you can be. I could tell you weren't gonna try anything, not that I couldn't defend myself."
With a nod, Marco took that in stride, and took another drink. It was true, she was more than a match for just about anything on Earth, but that was Earth, and it was back when she had magic. He was just starting to catch a powerful buzz when Star asked, "why'd you give me a place to stay, anyway?"
The tavern around them was bustling at this hour, and it only then struck her as 'odd' when she noticed how relaxed Marco was. He was smiling, around other people, drinking, laughing. Did she knock a few screws loose in that head of his? Because it didn't look real. He looked… nervous. Was it because of her?
"Well, that night, you didn't leave me," he offered casually, "you stayed with me, even when I didn't want you there. It meant a lot to me then, and it means a lot to me now." He took a long swing of his ale and passed it to the side. "I don't know if you get it, Star, but I owe you… a lot."
"Well yeah but-"
"You saved me from a dark place, and I live all alone in a big empty house," he cut in, letting her finish her mug before reclining in his seat. "A room was the least I could do. And after what just happened, I hope I can repay you a second time."
Two more drinks were set on the table, neither of the two aware that they were being watched and pampered by the tavern staff. It was a good show, and an even better source of gambling, much of it in Marco's favor.
He watched Star smile and pick up her new cup, tracing her finger around the rim and playing with the foam. "You already have, stupid," she whispered, keeping her gaze locked to the ale, "you're still here. You made it back alive, and you didn't… you know... leave me here by myself."
In truth, the whole ordeal started because he left her by herself, but he wasn't going to correct her. What struck him like a ten pound hammer, was that she was just as afraid of him leaving her. Sure, she looked pretty drunk, guzzling down her cup of ale with difficulty, but some semblance of his mind reassured him that she was, and had been just as afraid of him choosing to go their separate ways. She agreed to go solo so he wouldn't ditch her for good. She'd done all of this, because she didn't want him to disappear.
A little too quickly, Marco downed his drink and stared at the empty cup. He was definitely drunk, which was perfect considering what he planned to do next. He had to ask her. If he waited any longer than tonight, things would get exponentially worse, and he had a good chance to stop that train before it left the station. He needed to cut his losses and find out for sure. No more games, no more suspicion.
Two more drinks slid onto the table as the telekinetic barmaid passed them by like a moving mountain.
Star went for hers, watching as the Barmaid left to the little huddle behind the counter, but Marco stared at the foam of his, all but petrified. He didn't want to ask. Because if he was wrong, then there was a good chance it would make her uncomfortable, and ruin a lot more than their evening. And if he was right, then he had to squash things before they got… complicated. Both prospects sucked, but… 'you're stuck with the Star Butterfly."
"Star?"
Star turned away from the bar to face- good cob, he looked absolutely terrified! Or was it angry? It was hard to tell the specifics with Marco sometimes, but whatever was on his mind, it wasn't good. He'd been acting off all evening, like he was forcing himself to have fun, not that she found it dreadful… "yeah?"
For a long while, longer than any stretch of the word comfortable, Marco finally drew in a sharp breath, and released it. "Do you… have… feelings for me? In… that kinda way?" The moment those words left his mouth, he wanted to catch them, and bury them.
Across the booth, for a moment Syar wasn't sure if she'd heard him, or the ale talking. But once his question caught up with her muted stupor, she practically went into lightspeed. Her mind went a thousand miles an hour, to her talk with Pezmal, to her fight with Marco, to… everything but an answer.
Marco watched her as she stared at him, her mind racing through possibilities and analyzing everything she could. But all he could see was her, on the bridge from his dream, walking away. On the other literal hand, he remembered how warm her hand was, and the feeling of… being wanted. Being forgiven. But for now, he had to chase those thoughts away. She hadn't answered him, and it was taking too long for her answer to be a good one.
She looked down, right down at her glass with curiosity. In all honesty, she didn't really know. She hadn't been with him for very long, but… there was something there, a new feeling, a scary one that had only reared its ugly head when she felt she was going to be left behind. It was as terrifying as the fear of losing him, but… it was somewhat inviting.
"I… I don't… think so?" She all but asked him, tilting her head in thought. She could see the relief on his face as Marco felt his shoulders relax, days of pressure melting away. It was a decent answer, and she seemed to be taking the question well enough.
"Would it be a problem if I did?"
He was thoroughly caught off guard by that. It wasn't the outcry of turmoil and horror he had been expecting, but it also wasn't… what he expected. He hadn't really known her for very long, and at the same time he couldn't deny the prospect was… interesting, but he didn't really know what he wanted from her besides company. That was all that'd been exchanged between them. Ahrm, and a few kisses, against their will.
"Well… we're not exactly strangers, but… yes, it would be an issue," he muttered on an unsteady breath, "for both of us."
She was staring at her drink as she listened to his reasoning, and once he'd said his piece, she floored it in one go. She wasn't drunk enough for a conversation like this, but she was getting there. Marco watched as she finished her drink, and then his. She looked frantic, but he didn't really blame her. Two more drinks were placed on the table in record speed, the worried barmaid hurriedly making her way off like a stampede.
"Why would it *hic* be a problem?" She asked as she buried her drink and stared at him, "we could get to *hic* know each other, figure things out. It's not like its *hic* anything serious."
Marco looked towards the bar, watching as a group of barmaids scurried out of sight, for whatever reason. With haste he drank his glass, and then Star's, bracing himself for a conversation he wasn't nearly drunk enough for. "Besides, it's not really all that far-fetched," she offered as he emptied his glass, "I mean, a girl, a boy, lost in a strange dimension with nothing but each other? Oooo, so scandalous!"
Nothing.
He didn't give her an answer, though she could tell that to some degree, he agreed. But like a cold front Marco grew still, meeting her eyes with a sincerity she had grown to expect from him. Especially when they… talked.
"Star… I'm not the kind of person you… have feelings for," he grumbled with marked difficulty, "I'm… not a good person, you know? I mean… you saw me that night, you should probably aim higher than someone like me."
She frowned, like he'd offended her personally. "How do you know what I'm looking for in a… guy friend?" She asked with the same level of difficulty, the two of them sharing a deep shade of crimson across their cheeks, "And what kind of person is 'someone like you', anyway? What 'kind of person' are you?"
For whatever reason, he felt himself getting defensive. She was dragging this out for some sick semblance of pleasure, surely, was she messing with him? She was definitely the kind of woman who'd turn an awkward situation into a joke if it meant downplaying the problem, but she looked so… placid. "If I have to describe it to you, then that should be reason enough," he muttered, two more glasses placed between them.
"Except you're the one who said we don't know each other that much, so lemme get to know you," Star countered, pinning him to a corner and locking the cell, "we'll see if maybe I do wanna piece of you."
He looked away, again. Right through his buzz, right through the game, he didn't want to play anymore. It wasn't fun regardless of her attitude, and he wasn't going to entertain the idea any more than he had to. "I've just- I've been through a lot, Star," he started, his voice angry, and low, "I don't know what exactly you're looking for, but my life has put me through some shit. It's made me someone I don't like, and I don't want to be the bad experience you have to learn from. You deserve better."
'Then change.'
'I don't know how…'
"Marco," Star whispered, cutting through his sullen attitude and drawing his attention in like a rainbow whirlpool. She looked deadly serious. "In case you haven't figured it out yet, both of us have been through some… shit. Not to downplay what you've been through, we're both messed up, but there's nothing wrong with that, is there? We're stuck here regardless, so I don't see any reason why we couldn't be stuck here together if we felt that way about each other."
He started. This was… nothing like his dream, not in the slightest. She seemed more fine with who he was than the man in question, like his attitude and mannerisms weren't in question, but a highlight to the prominent issue of what they should do about it. It sounded like she didn't have any intention of leaving, regardless of who and what he was.
"I mean, there's so much going on right now," he tried to argue, "we're fighting every day, we have a crazy douchebag who's got it out for us, we're in a rebellion in another dimension? And don't even get me started on what we just did to said rebellions home base."
"So?" Star tilted her head to catch his eyes. "It's not like any of that's gonna go away if we don't… ya know. Explore? Like I said, it's nothing serious, I'm sure we've both been around the park a few times, what's the harm in something like that?"
Marco didn't answer right away, letting the air of the tavern carry his excuses and resignation away. "What could I even give you, Star?" He found himself asking without effort, his eyes genuine, and fearful, "I'm just some guy with issues- a lot of issues. I don't do anything cool, I'm not a good person, I'm just… me."
She thought about that for a moment, reaching for her drink and taking a slow sip. She wiped the foam from her lips, noting casually, "maybe I like that, then. I don't 'court' people like the nobles on Mewni do, I'm not after a guy because he can give me something, or I gain anything. It's just, because it's him."
A fight broke out on the other side of the bar, but neither of them cared to pay any attention to it, as did the pining barmaids watching them. And with reluctance, Marco asked with care, "what do you like about… the kinda guy you think I am?"
"Well, I mean, I don't know a whole lot, thanks for pointing that out," She listed, finishing her glass as Marco started draining his, "But I do like how loyal you can be. You're reliable and strong, handsome, a liiiitle bit cagey? You stick to your guns, and you don't always leave me behind. Two for two though."
He felt the shade of crimson around his growing grin deepen. "Sorry about that."
Star shrugged, watching as he finished his ale, the two quickly replaced by another set. "Don't worry about it, water under the briiiiiiiiiiiiiii… ...dge? Sorry! I don't know where that came from!" She panicked, but Marco waved it off with a laugh, helping he relax. "Okay, well, yeah. All of that. Now do me. What do you like about the woman I'm pretending to be?"
After recovering, the both of them, Marco thought for a moment. He wasn't really sure what it was that kept him close, apart from owning her one, or several. "If I had to guess… I'd say, your optimism?" She cocked her head to the side, so he tried again. "I mean, not like things have been stellar for us lately, but no matter what happens, you always get back up. You keep fighting, you keep running, and you don't let people hold you down. Nothing's ever too bad for Star Butterfly."
"Hm. Nothing but you, Diaz," she purred, giving him a lidded smile over her glass.
He stared at her, and after a moment she felt her resolve crack. That was definitely too forward! Too forward! Marco wasn't the kind of person to lay that kind of talk on!
"Are you… trying to flirt with me?" Marco asked, his grin withstanding her uncomfortable grimace.
"Shut up, I was just- I mean, you know… just feeling the water and I-"
"Star."
She forced herself to look at him, and her heart froze. He was as serious as a damn heart attack! She could feel herself withering under his gaze, like she just wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.
"Don't joke like that," he muttered, earning more than enough shock and horror to warrant the suave grin that only then he allowed to spread across his face. "You're just teying to stir up trouble that's a bit too big for you. Because you can't handle me… or my abbs."
Her eyes went wide as her expression perked like a blossoming rose. All thoughts not pertaining to… that, were promptly shut down, and a lopsided grin of curiosity filled her face. She remembered their third day, when she'd found him in the river, and it was more than enticing enough to draw her in further.
*hic* "...abb bababababab baaa baaa… ahrm. Abbs?"
Marco gave her a slow nod.
"That's… that's not fair and you know it. You can't just-"
"I can do- and use, whatever I want," he countered, finishing his drink and slipping it to the side, "all's fair in love and war, and I think you're at a bit of a disadvantage."
"Oh am I?"
"Yep."
Star didn't know where this was coming from, his odd change in attitude, or the fact that he was even discussing something like this, but she wasn't going to lose. He was cocky, and if he wanted to play like an ass, then an ass she would make of him. Glaring at him, Star muttered, "Fine then," and slid around the booth to sit beside him.
As awkward as it had been the first time, she grabbed his hands, folding them with her own before leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. He made some movement of refusal and terror before he finally calmed down, letting out a sigh of relief for not having to kiss the other version of her. It started awkward, and clumsy, but as it went on, and boy did it go on, it became… comforting. There was something for each of them to give and receive, and it felt complete.
After a long moment of passionate silence between the two, Star pulled back, both to catch her breath and a sight of his ruddy face, but she also had to be sure she wasn't ruining. Everything. "Marco," she began, her voice as sweet and smooth as honey, "are you… okay with this?"
He nodded.
"You don't mind… trying this? Here? Now? With ...me?"
He knew what she was asking, whether or not he was sure if she was what he wanted, or if now was even remotely the right time to do something like this. It wasn't their first rodeo, and they weren't stupid, but her eyes… They bore an eerie resemblance to her other form, that passionate need and want, that craving to be desired, but in all truth he felt that she was just as hopeless and unsure as he was. This was… frightening. It was new. It was dangerous. "I… don't know for sure, Star, but I do… like this. All I know is that you're the one person, who I'd wanna be stuck here with."
She didn't wait for a better opening, he was throwing caution to the wind, and she intended to follow his lead. Star went in full force for another kiss, ignorant to the sounds of celebration taking place behind the bar, but careful around his more sensitive wounds. She didn't know why this excited her so much, like she was trying something wrong, but she knew that feeling had a hint of truth. They needed to stop. They needed to-
"Star, I don't really know what I'm doing," Marco breathed in her ear between ragged breaths, the two of them now acutely aware of just how close they'd gotten in the seedy little bar. But his voice alone, low and careful, was enough to rile her to no end. "Are you sure you-"
"Don't worry about me, and dont ask stupid questions. If you're worried about playing the safe kid, Diaz," she breathed right back, pulling him ever closer, "you're doing just fine."
They only got closer as the seconds passed, the rest of the bar fading into mindless obscurity for what felt like hours before Marco pulled back again, this time with a desperation to his voice. "Star-"
"If I have to tell you one more time to-"
"I need you, Star."
That did it. From somewhere deep inside, the last of her reservations were kicked off like old shoes. She didn't care how long they'd known each other, or what the world outside was holding in wait. She needed this just as badly, and she was determined to get it. "Cob dance?" She asked breathlessly.
"Cob dance," he answered without question.
In one fluid motion she was out of the booth, dragging Marco to his feet just as the burly barmaid came by to sweep up the cups and leave them a key. He didn't protest, and she wasn't going to wait for him to form an objection, so she left a handful of coins on the counter, and practically ran upstairs with the broody idiot in tote.
O - O - O - O - O - O - O
"What do you mean, 'they left'?" Duwen demanded, setting down her reports to glare at her son. Her office smelled like gingersnaps, but she was content to let them burn if it meant retrieving the two brats before anyone got hurt. "Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to let them out of our sight for even a-"
"They're nold soldiers, despite what their actions would have you believe, they're practically kids. They needed a break," Alwen cut in, a rare occurrence to have the leader of the resistance stopped in her tracks. She stood, her eyes locked with his, but she bid him to explain, her brow furrowed in curiosity. "I know you don't know a lot about how young people think, from personal experience, but I'd prefer they don't cut their losses and run without our permission."
Duwen remained silent, staring at her son before taking to pacing around the room. "Explain yourself. Why are our two most valuable assets free to roam about unsupervised, a week before our most important mission? Because I for one would love to hear your reasoning."
He shrugged off her thinly veiled sarcasm, grinning at the sight of a perturbed, and confused Duwen. "They've been through hell, even before we sought to initiate them into our ranks" he began, noting the stack of reports on her desk, alongside the medical data they'd gathered, "they were at their breaking point even before your two missions. We found them at a bad time, and due to recent events, I'm worried it's only gotten worse. If you want them to willingly stay, then you need to remind them that they're not specimens, or soldiers, or weapons, but one of us, regardless of… what happened. Otherwise, they'll realize they're not, and we'll have a pair of dangerous enemies to worry about."
Duwen remained silent, staring at the wall with animosity and resignation.
"So you think they need… what? A vacation?" She demanded, turning sharply to face him, "we have too much riding on this to let them run around like they're anything more than what they are. They are tools, Alwen, weapons to be used against the Crown. I saw from the moment they walked in here that we could use them as such, and the sooner you realize that, the easier this will be."
"Then when they collapse under your expectations, as I did in Hilprone, you'll have more to answer for than you did then."
Duwen struggled not to throw something at him, with difficulty, before she sighed. He was right, and it was infuriating. "You went full vigilante on me, and you killed anything that moved in that town. That night was the worst night of my life, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't ask me to relive it," she spat, turning back to her ovens, "I thought I could replicate what I went through to make an unstoppable army against them, you let yourself lose control, and the people paid the price. Now, you'd lose control of these kids and repeat the same mistake?"
The tension between them suddenly snapped like a steel cable. "No, I want to give them freedom so they don't repeat my mistake. You made my most trusted ally- you turned him into a weapon, you didn't tell me anything, and when he fell, I lost what very little composure you left room for. I won't let you saddle them with your expectations and missions and death, just to see your goals met."
"Then when they break, when people die? You will answer to the people this time," Duwen threw over her shoulder, "Helwen did what he could, but I raised you as I did so that you would survive. Not live, not prosper, but survive in this cruel world. I got lucky once, and it made me strong. We can't afford to shy away from tough love and duty, when the Crown is using our friends and allies as a catalyst for Zaleeth's Black Wine. You need to reassess your priorities with those two, before you let our one chance at ending the Machine slip through our fingers."
"They beat the Black Wine right in front of you! Is that not enough to sate your appetite? Or do more of our men have to-"
"Every day we wait we lose a hundred more, boy! They got lucky, as I did, and that girl is far more ferocious than what you had me believe. So no, I am not satisfied with anything less than the destruction of our enemies, and those two will be the ones to do it."
But Alwen was as persistent and stubborn as she was, standing from his chair and staring at her. "They'll only help us, if they trust us," he noted in a growl, "and with one of them leveling our cave for the other, that means letting them handle each other in our leave. For now, before we overstep, before we drag them through the mud and break them, I would suggest you reassess your priorities, and ask yourself if these two anomalies would help you if they knew how many people you plan to kill before you whet your appetite."
"They would, because they have no other choice. If they want to leave this place, it's through us. They won't find any other ticket out of this dimension, not with begging, or even vacations, like you'd suggest," Duwen began, her voice low with spite, "We have to beat her, and they will help us, however they can. The only way we all walk out if this alive, is if we get stronger, and use them. No matter the cost."
Alwen gave her one last nod, and felt his chest tighten. "We still have the spy to worry about. But… I can agree with you on that, at least. The cleaver won't bring us victory so long as she sits behind the throne, and those two might be our only chance at freeing these lands for good. So tread carefully with your lies, and your deception. Kids don't like being underestimated."
"Despite my appearance, Alwen, I too was once a kid, and I too was underestimated," she offered in return, letting him make for the door, "but I persevered, and I got stronger, the Wine saw to that. We have a dangerous pair to gamble with now, an opportunity we'll likely never have again. We need to study them, and soon, we will use them. So prepare yourself, and if they fail, don't lose your head again."
"Is the glass half empty? Is it half full? Or is it just a container for whatever you feel like pouring out of your heart?
How much is left? How much more can it take until the glass finally breaks, spilling out your worst fears and insecurities?
It's not about what you put in, or what you take out. It's only a matter of time before your glass breaks, so make sure it's a strong one, because when you're done pouring?
Life will pour in just a little bit more."
~Mr. Ronald Reagan
~H
Hey guys, just a quick note, other than the usual spiel of whatever gets put at the end of these. Thank you for reading this story, and thank you for your kind words, and your excitement to see it go on. We're all shouldering something heavy, so I hope that even as you read on, you laugh, you cry, you feel giddy, you're scared for the characters, I hope it helps you forget what you're holding onto. I hope you feel better, and know that in a community like this one, you're never far from the freaks and weirdos we all love to call friends. Have a blessed day, and thanks again for taking the time to read my story!