Author's note: Okay, so I'm writing this after I finished the chapter. This was way longer than I thought it would be. There are a lot of emotions here and I feel compelled to leave a tw for violence and emotional distress. Now, enjoy!

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The Measure of a Man

Chapter Seven

Demons

"I… am not… you," the words rang in her head, even several minutes after she heard them, she couldn't shake them from her mind, but surely that was her daughter's intention.

All felt eerily still, even though she was moving. The lit torches illuminated her path toward her bedroom. Beside her, her husband, keeping his head forward as she did. Only moments ago had she spoken to her daughter, hearing her perspective for the first time. Of course, it wasn't truly the first time she had truly heard her daughter's stance, but this time was different. Something about the way that she said it maybe… it stuck with her.

They had been walking for some time now, having taken a slow pace after the heated exchange before. It was very quiet by then, especially after gaining some distance from the rowdy crowd of Mewmans in the throne room, but her mind still echoed her words just as loud as they were when she originally heard them.

She held the wand in front of her with a sorrowful expression. She stared into the gem at the tip of it and looked back at herself through its reflection. It felt wrong for her to have it. It didn't belong to her and beyond that, she didn't feel as though she deserved to have it after the events of the day of which the responsibility for them came upon her shoulders. The fact that she had it was just another effect of her actions and she knew there was more to come. Her day was far from over, even as the night came.

"What do you think," River asked, glancing to her with a conflicted expression much like her own.

She closed her eyes, letting her face fall. Her disappointed disposition was clear, especially to her husband.

"I only wanted to help her," she remarked, meeting her husband's eyes with a sorrowful expression. He sighed, letting his shoulders fall.

Suddenly, he reached for her hand, halting in place. He held it in his own and glanced directly into her eyes. His face fell.

"What are we going to do," he asked, genuine concern behind his inflection. She reciprocated his care, rubbing her thumb against the back of his palms as she contemplated. She once again looked to the wand, glancing into its stone. She remained silent, staring into it. Her face slowly changed as she focused deeper on it until her brows furrowed together.

"I-" she began, glancing into River's eyes again before concluding "I need to make it right."

River grinned slightly, caressing her hands. She didn't reciprocate the smile. She was not proud that she had come to the determination. She only wished that she had come to it sooner.

He released her hands, taking a few steps toward their bedroom before stopping again when he realized that his wife hadn't moved.

"Moon, come on, we still need to go to sleep," he suggested, confused as she stared elsewhere.

"I told you, I need to make this right," she countered, meeting his eye once more.

He raised a brow, confused.

"Surely you don't think that you can do that all tonight," he remarked, taking a step toward her.

She shook her head, holding the wand in her hand. "I know," she explained, "... but there is something that I know that I have to do for sure."

Confused, River fumbled for words. He opened his mouth to speak, but as his wife wrapped her arms around him, he failed.

She released him, "You aren't wrong, though," she concluded "You do need to sleep. Please, do not worry for me, I will return… very soon, I expect."

She smiled at him as she turned around, walking back in the direction that she came from. River let his concerned gaze linger until she was out of sight. He sighed, finally turning back and walking toward his room, scratching his head as he anxiously left her behind.

The center of the Southern Village was all but quiet, the heavy downpour of the night pounded against the already mucky terrain. Occasional bursts of lightning and thunder sounded out. Adding to the terrible conditions, there was a new moon that night, making it almost impossible to see with the unusual lack of light.

Beside the fountain, a portal cut open, a horned boy coming through with balled fists and terrible intents.

His feet sunk into the soggy Mewni terrain and his fiery skin was immediately put out painfully. He fell to his knee, wincing and gnashing his teeth. Raindrops bounced off of his skin, sizzling against his blazing flesh.

The pain only served to fuel the rage which he dreaded so passionately. He struggled to get to his feet and stared on reluctantly. His heart and his brain fought against one another as he remained torn both in intent and emotion.

Every step was reluctant, full of half-hearted hate that was in itself more vivid than any normal person could imagine. His demonic core screamed at him to enact vengeance, but he wasn't sure that he had what it took. Worse than that, he knew that he wouldn't be able to turn back, regardless of how that night ended.

Unfortunately for Marco, he wasn't physically inhibited in the slightest. More than any Mewman or even any other demon, he had great abilities. He was unimaginably attuned in all senses. He remembered the boy vividly, Marco, his rags, his mannerisms, even the way he walked, and he could see all of the signs as if they were happening right in front of him as if Marco was walking from the castle at that very moment, despite having gone home almost an hour ago while the sun was still in the process of setting. He knew exactly where Marco had gone, and as he followed the signs, he could easily see where the boy resided.

He knew what he had to do to earn his father's respect and he despised himself for even considering it. The man that his father wanted him to be clashed with the person that he knew he was. He was tired of being no more than a disappointment to his father. He knew he was capable of being more, and he knew what he needed to do to prove it.

He trembled in place as he stared at the boy's house, his fists clenched as he spotted the boy through his window. He sat inside his small home, talking to his mother innocently. He seemed distraught about something.

What could he have to worry over, he stole her from me,he thought to himself, his demonic thoughts coming to the forefront.

He took a step forward, getting himself to stop as he talked himself down.

He's just a peasant, she wouldn't fall for him, he rationalized. He remained still, trying to remain calm. His father's words bounced against the corners of his mind.

"You don't deserve the Lucitor Blood that flows in your veins,"he remembered, his thoughts too loud to ignore. He placed his hands against the sides of his head, pulling his hair in frustration.

"Kill the boy," his father said, "Reclaim what was taken from you".

He glanced back to the boy's home, watching as he rose from his chair and hugged his mother, and in Tom's eyes, this was Marco's greatest transgression. Tom seethed in rage as he watched Marco receive the love that he had never received.

He snarled, taking several steps toward the boy's home with such cruel intent that it disgusted even him. A tear rolled down his cheek accompanied by the cold drops of rain that progressively became heavier as his steps got heavier in equal pace. He knew he didn't want to do this, but at the same time knew that he was out of choices. He lost Star, he needed her back. Marco was in the way.

Again, he fought back against his vengeful bloodlust. He fell to his knees again and held his head as it throbbed painfully. He rolled onto his back, reeling as the rain soaked into his face.

In the cold of the night, even having been born in the underworld, he reminisced about the warmth of Star's caring touch. He wrapped his arms around himself longingly but felt nothing of her.

"How could he take her from me,"he shouted as the heavy drops of rain slammed against the ground. He rolled over and slammed his fist into the ground. Tears continued to roll off of his cheeks as he fought to get back to his feet, falling back to the ground and continuing to cry.

"Why," he cried out, looking to the sky, His face fell again.

"Make right what is wrong,"his father's voice continued to haunt him. He punched the ground, grunting and staring at the ground he struck.

"I need her," he screamed as he continued to swing his fist at the ground.

"Or don't bother coming back,"he remembered his father's final words to him. Tom pounded his fist against the ground once more as if he was fighting back against his father. He punched again, this time switching hands, then again, and again with his entire heart behind each strike.

His pace increased, the muddy terrain splattering against him as he continued to crack through the ground. His eyes continued to lead way to an eruption of passionate tears from the emotionally fragmented boy.

He couldn't stop himself. His hands ached, but his fury was insatiable. Harder and full of more vivid veracity with every blow to the ground, he fell further out of control, each hit growing more powerful.

Visions flashed through his head as he reluctantly remembered how his father constantly treated him.

He heard his father's voice so vividly that he could swear that the man was there with him, taunting.

"Worthless," he prodded on as Tom continually beat into the ground with closed fists.

His knuckles cut open, drawing dark crimson blood as he continued to beat into the ground. It was almost impossible to hear as the rain and thunder pounded around him, he continued to strike the ground, growing numb with anger.

"I hate you," he cried, unsure where his anger was directed anymore.

He couldn't hold himself back anymore. He got back to his feet and walked to the window, peering through one final time. He stared at Marco with disdain as the boy slumbered so calmly.

He grunted, walking to the house's door and opening it wide. He stood in the doorway, lightning blasting behind him with thunder quickly following. He took a step into the home and immediately clenched his already damaged fist. As his hand shook, he held a fire in his palm, willing it to whirl around his palm as he stood over the boy. His heart thumped, his mind ached. He heard his father continue to prod him on deep inside his head.

"Kill him," he heard, then again, louder, "Kill him."

The voice echoed in his mind as it constantly repeated the phrase. It was maddening, not even having peace in his mind, he aimed his hand toward Marco's unconscious form. He closed his eyes, trying to force himself to do it, but couldn't. He grabbed his wrist with his opposite hand, continuing his efforts. Still, he failed to act.

Tears continued to roll down his face as he held out his hand, summoning the strength. He needed to take back what he lost, regardless of the cost, even if it killed him. He couldn't allow himself to disgrace his family any longer.

I can't lose her, he pled to himself, hoping that he could finally be strong enough.

He remained still, holding his hand just above the boy's head for several seconds. His breaths were ragged and he was full of regret, but he was determined. He raised his hand, clenching his other-worldly weapon. He finally spoke to the boy, whispering with a heavy heart, "I'm sorry," as he swung his weapon toward the boy.

Just as his knife touched Marco's skin, he felt a wave of raw energy strike him, tossing him to the side. His blade cut across the side of Marco's face, awakening him in a shriek. He held his hands to his face, his mother quickly coming awake and screaming as she saw her son. She dove for him as his savior walked through the door.

"Thomas, I believe that you have overstayed your welcome," Moon finally addressed him, pointing the royal wand in his direction as his back hit a wall.

Initially jarred by the sudden attack, he reeled, getting to his feet and backing against the wall.

"Queen Moon," he addressed, his voice quivering in fear.

She stepped further into the room, passing by the cowering mother and her son and stood over the Prine, holding the wand to his head.

He stared at the wand, confused. His brow furrowed as his anger overtook him once more.

"That wand belongs to Star," he remarked, no longer backing away. Moon tilted her head, confused, and faster than she could have reacted, he grabbed the wand, casting it aside with a quick swipe.

Stupified by his sudden move, she froze in place as he quickly got to his feet, standing taller than her. She shook away her stupor, attempting to contain him once more. She cast a spell from the palm of her hand, but he quickly dodged to the side, her pure white orbs of energy slamming into the Diaz house instead.

"If you're so concerned about Star," she began, grunting as she moved to dodge his attacks, "...then how do you think she will react when she discovers what you planned to do to Marco?"

He froze, holding a ball of fire in his hand. He looked to the ground, remaining stoic. He had nothing more to lose but his hope.

"She will have to understand," he declared, hurling his scorching flames in her direction.

She moved to the side, having seen the attack coming. Marco sat against a wall as his mother tended to his wound. He stared at Tom with confusion, then glancing at the wand that lay only a foot away from him.

Tom met Marco's eye, growing even more furious than before.

"You ruined me," he shouted, clenching his fist.

The Queen stepped in front of Marco, remarking "You did that part yourself" as she took a defensive position over the Mewman.

Flames ignited behind Tom's eyes. He took no time to spring into action. He summoned his blade and swung for Moon. She evaded gracefully, remaining between Tom and Marco.

Marco held his hand against his wound, staring at the wand. He felt less safe being defended than he did when he simply took things into his control.

Tom quickly attacked again, swinging high only to be ducked and countered with a magical blow to his stomach. He bent over, holding his hand against his stomach as he heaved.

Moon stepped forward, holding her hand up, ready to attack.

"Thomas, you must stop before you do something you cannot take back," she commanded, peering over his shoulder as he finally caught his breath. He didn't respond, still not facing the woman. She stepped closer, letting her guard down.

He immediately turned around, aiming a full-strength blow to her stomach. She fell to the ground, reeling. Tom stepped forward with a cocky smile, standing over the woman. He summoned his blade once more, twirling it in his palm as he pinned Moon down with his foot.

He chuckled to himself, staring at his hand, surprised at his power.

"That felt good," he remarked under his breath. He adjusted his grip on his blade and met Moon's fearful eye.

He sighed in contentment. He began again, "Now, where were we-"

Marco lunged for the wand, holding it in his hand and aiming it at Tom. Almost immediately, the wand began to glow in his hands. Tom's brow raised in surprise. Moon turned her head, her eyes widening.

"But how-" she muttered, watching in awe as the wand transformed in his hands. Even Marco's mouth widened. His eyes locked on the wand's gem, then to his forearms, where his veins began to glow a great, golden hue.

He smiled, aiming it at Tom. His veins glowed brighter, until, finally, it became too much to handle. Blood streaked from his nose as he pointed the wand forward, trying to fire it in Tom's direction. It sparked. Marco focused harder, closing his eyes and squeezing his palms until the wand finally exploded with power, knocking him back against the wall.

Tom flew back, slamming against a wall again. He glanced from side to side, trying to find Moon, but before he knew it, a fist swung across his face. The last thing he saw was a blurred image of Marco holding the wand in disbelief.

Moon panted, standing over the demonic Prince. She waited an extra few seconds, predicting another trick, but he didn't move. She finally let her shoulders fall, then glanced at Marco with confusion.

"What did you just do," she asked, stepping toward him as his hands remained firmly pressed around the hilt of the wand.

She took slow steps toward him, hoping not to alarm him, but still, he never moved. His body shook. His mother wrapped her arms around him but was zapped off immediately upon contact. His grip loosened on the wand as he glanced at his mother, concerned.

"What- How did I just-" he stammered, unable to find words. His breaths grew ragged as Moon cautiously approached.

Moon reached forward, taking the wand from him slowly. Even as anxious as he was, he knew better than to try and defy the woman. As the wand slipped from his hands, it immediately transformed into its original state, adorned with its perfect diamond.

Marco quickly moved to assure his mother's condition.

"Mom, are you-"

She pushed him back instinctively, backing away from him fearfully.

"No offense, Marco, but I'd rather not get shocked again," she explained, rubbing the back of her head. He deadpanned, turning his head to the concerned Queen.

She stared back, but with an expression he couldn't explain. It was like he had done something impossible, which in his eyes, he had, but she seemed to be in awe for a different reason.

"Queen Moon, what is it," Angelica asked, growing uneasy.

The woman stared for a few more seconds, refusing to relocate her gaze, even as she explained, her voice cracking in disbelief.

"What you just did," she began, stuttering. She glanced at the wand, perhaps fearfully.

"It shouldn't have been possible," she explained, meeting his eyes once more.

"Magic is meant to be exclusive to the Butterfly blood alone," she stated in a flat tone. Marco's eyes widened as she continued.

"And yet," she paused, glancing to Tom's unconscious form, "You have just used magic so powerful that it-" she fumbled for words, "It is unexplainable."

The room fell silent as she once again glanced to Tom, then the terrified family.

She sighed, dropping her head.

"Nobody can know what happened here today," she stated, meeting each of their eyes.

Marco looked at Tom, confused, "Do you mean that-"

She cut in, affirming, "None of it. I cannot explain why, but-"

"My son was almost killed in his sleep," she shouted back, pointing to the deep cut only inches from his eye, she pushed off of the ground, assertively standing up to the Queen, "Why should we care if people know about all of this?"

Moon stared her down, waiting several seconds after Angelica had finished before finally countering her, "Because that would only put him in more danger, Missus Diaz."

She fell silent for several seconds, not backing down, before finally posing a genuine question.

"Why does all of this keep happening," she asked, "Why him? Hasn't he been hurt enough?"

Moon's face softened. She glanced in Marco's direction, watching as he wiped the blood from his cheek and stared at it. She looked back at the woman and put on a sympathetic tone, "I'm afraid-" she hesitated.

"I'm afraid that the only reason is that he survived the attacks before. Monsters hold grudges and even if Thomas isn't technically a monster, I worry that he may as well."

Marco got to his feet, holding his arm to his chest again. He walked past the two women and stood over Tom, staring with genuine confusion.

He spoke, hovering his gaze over his would-be murderer, he questioned, "What did I do that made him this mad? I haven't even met him."

Moon sighed once more, kneeling beside the hellish boy and holding a hand to the side of his head. He was cold, much like his upbringing, ironically enough.

"I couldn't possibly explain it to you. Thomas doesn't deserve any of what is happening to him, but it is clear to me now that he is a danger to those around him," she explained in a somber tone.

A silence fell upon them, Moon eventually moving towards Tom and lifting him from the ground with slight struggle. She struggled with his weight, but stood strong nonetheless, moving toward their door. She stopped in place, turning toward the mother and finally asking "Would you like me to take him to the castle," gesturing toward Marco, "To receive medical attention, I mean."

Angelica turned to her son, questioning him with only a gaze. He seemed unsure. She sighed, turning to the woman once more. Conflicted in her tone, she questioned, "I don't want to leave him alone tonight. Would it be a trouble if I came with him?"

Initially surprised by the question, she felt an instinct to deny the woman. She stared at the two for several seconds, lost in thought until she finally broke the silence, her tone hesitant as she finally answered "I- I am sure that it would be no trouble, especially with… your current situation, I am sure it would be much safer in the castle for the both of you."

And so, during a moment of pregnant silence, the Queen pivoted in place, taking a step toward the path and stopping once more. She turned back to the two, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

"Come on then, we do not have all night," she remarked in a fatigued tone.

The mother and son shared a glance, then met eyes with the queen. As Angelica took a step forward, so did her son, following the Queen from their home. It felt so sudden that they had almost forgotten to lock their door behind them. Not that they had much that they were worried about losing, but it still felt as if it was worth doing, and as they walked further away, with their home fading further into obscurity, it felt as though they were entering a new world, even after having both been to the castle as recently as earlier that day.

It was far beyond uncommon for a Mewman to be out of their home so late and even rarer on a night such as this, where the storm that surrounded them was closer to being an ocean than it was a typical night. With Moon using both of her hands to hold the demonic Prince's weight, there was nothing to be done, no conversations to be had as the sounds of the rain and thunder drowned out all else, and least of all, no peace to be had.

Needless to say, they kept a modest pace as they approached the castle, doing their best to stay on the path despite the immensely concealing droplets that constantly poured down.

The lights of the castle guided them as they pushed through the downpour. Angelica held her son's hand, pulling him along as he struggled under the insane pressure.

They fought their way towards the gate, screaming for it to be opened to nearly no avail. A silhouette emerged from the precipitation, a man, a familiar one at that. Coming to the gate, he squinted, taking several seconds to identify the trio before finally spotting the Queen and rushing to pull the gate open.

He was only able to create a small gap, to which the three each squeezed through with only inches to spare. The gatekeep eyed Marco with disdain, but he was quickly snagged away as the two women kept pace, making the final push toward the castle.

Nearly tripping over themselves, they stumbled through the giant wooden door. Drenched and dripping with water, they heaved for air. The only person who didn't stop moving was the Queen. Her steps echoed through the main hall of the castle as she glanced back to the two Mewmans.

"We are almost there. We can rest once we arrive at the hospital wing," she commanded, each of the two obeying with exhausted steps.

Marco's legs fell beneath him. His mother quickly came to his assistance, practically dragging him the remaining distance as they finally reached the room that they had intended to. Quickly, Moon deposited Tom's unconscious form just outside the door, binding his hands and legs with a quick wave of her wand.

They entered the room and were immediately swarmed by nurses. They surrounded each of them. The Queen shooed them away, Angelica quickly following suit, and as quickly as he had entered the room, he had been addressed and practically tossed onto a medical bed. Both women watched with concern.

Following the briefest of moments of silence, Moon spoke in a hushed tone that only Angelica could have heard, "It's because she has feelings for him," she stated, still keeping her eyes on him as the nurses continued to harass him with care.

Angelica snapped her gaze to the woman, tilting her brow in sudden frustration. She didn't understand.

"What-" she tried to question, words failing her.

"Star-" she began, stuttering as she attempted to clarify. She shifted her attention to the mother, "My daughter, I mean. I fear that she has a certain… affinity… for your son. I fear that Thomas shares my suspicion and in his anger, he couldn't hold himself back from-"

Angelica cut in, arguing in an exasperated tone, "So what you mean to tell me is that 'Thomas' or whatever you said his name was, tried to kill my son because Star has feelings for him?"

Moon sighed, dropping her face and wiping sweat from her brow.

Her tone was soft, understanding, and guilty. She posited, "Yes, I'm afraid that is exactly what I am saying."

Angelica's glare softened. She took a step back, her eyes widening slightly. She turned to her son, watching as the nurses thoroughly scrubbed his wounds against his wincing. She too sighed, affirming the Queen's suspicions.

"Marco is the same way," she began, meeting the Queen's concerned gaze, "He doesn't know it yet, but-"

Moon interfered as if what the woman had said had confirmed her deepest theories. She exclaimed, "Star too is unaware, she-"

Moon fumbled her words, her smile quickly dropping as she continually came to the many realizations of the many implications of this confirmation.

"This means-" she trailed off, staring into the distance absentmindedly.

She fell silent, her mouth hanging open slightly as her brows piqued. Her mind raced as she finally realized it.

"Your son is a peasant," she concluded, holding the boy in a stone-cold stare.

Angelica's brows tilted with annoyance. She deadpanned, crossing her arms.

"And," she questioned.

She remained silent for several seconds before finally speaking again.

"A Mewman Princess has only once been courted by a peasant," she said, her shoulders dropping.

Angelica's glare softened once more. Confused, she questioned "So, is it not allowed?"

Almost immediately, she answered.

"It would be closer to a precedent," she declared, exhaling as she kept her worried eyes fixed over the boy.

She stammered, "I-" losing her words.

"I am not sure that I can allow such a thing," she remarked, glancing to the mother with genuine conflict.

She watched as the woman's face quickly displayed her annoyance. She looked like she wanted to lash out, to argue, but simply lacked the strength. She sighed.

"Moon," she began, searching for the best words in her head.

"My son is an excellent man," she stated, firmly, continuing "He has seen more horror than you or I could possibly imagine in his young life, and-"

Moon cut in, "Yes, I understand, but-"

"No, you don't," Angelica asserted, silencing the woman. She continued, keeping her voice firm. She pointed to her son, articulating her admiration of her son to the best of her abilities, "He is brave. He is kind. He is loyal. He is smart."

She paused, meeting Moon's eyes with fierce sincerity.

"But beyond all of that, he is more than just a 'peasant', no matter how often people like to try and tell him he is."

Moon's brow furrowed. It was as if one could see her mind thinking. She was genuinely considering the mother's input and it was clear. Her head ached. In a moment, she turned away, quickly stepping toward the door from which they had entered.

"Moon, wait," she called out. The Queen turned around, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Please," Angelica began, a tinge of desperation behind her voice.

"Just a chance, that is all I ask for my son. Please, give him the chance that he deserves. He has a right to be happy, just for once at least."

Her brow tilted once more as it all became too much to consume. She sighed, taking a deep breath before finally giving the woman as much as she was capable of.

"I-" she stammered.

"I will try," she finished, stepping closer to the door.

"Be safe," she said in a genuine tone, bidding the woman adieu just a moment before stepping out of the room and shutting the door. She leaned against it, closing her eyes and tilting her head toward the ceiling. She was drained. The day was meant to be happy, and now, as a punishment fit for her actions, she had so much on her shoulders.

She slumped against the door, slowly sagging against it until her rear hit the floor. She held her hands to her face. Her mind began to swell, aching painfully. She slid her hands to the side of her head, slowly turning to spot Tom sitting against the wall with a blank expression.

"Oh for the love of corn-" she began, quickly getting to her feet.

"Thomas, do you think that you could have said something rather than frightening me," she asked, gasping for breath.

"What's the point," he asked with a deadpan expression.

Moon raised a brow dumbfounded.

"Exactly what are you talking about," she questioned with an impatient glare.

He sighed, sagging further into the wall where he sat. "What's the point," he repeated, explaining "I have nothing left. What is the point of caring anymore?"

"Thomas, that is ridiculous. You are a Prince with untold power. You have something."

He furrowed his brow in annoyance.

"What about Star? I've lost her," he concluded.

Moon tilted her head, standing over him.

"Yes, Thomas, but surely you must know that it was your doing that caused your loss," Moon countered. Watching him closely as he rambled on.

"Marco took her from me," he stated flatly, fully aware of the boy's proximity.

Moon shook her head. He continued, "I can still kill him, you know? You can't protect him forever."

Moon's brows tilted downward as she listened with confusion.

"Thomas, what are you saying? You are no murderer," she declared.

Immediately, he snapped back at her, shouting in his deflated voice, "Can you just kill me already?"

A tear rolled down his cheek. He turned away from the woman. Her face was full of shock and guilt.

"Thomas," she began, sighing. He refused to meet her eye, his lip quivering as he held back his tears.

"I-" she hesitated. She steeled her nerves, finally stating her mind.

"I am, too, partly responsible for your loss, but it would have come regardless. Star does not and will never truly love you," she stated plainly.

"But," she continued. He met her gaze with a glare. "But, that does not mean that you truly have nothing left."

He blinked away his tears, but his eyes continued to glisten. He appeared completely hopeless. Moon felt a pit in her stomach beginning to deepen. She truly felt guilty for the boy's situation, but knew that she couldn't do much to help him.

"I don't have a home to go back to," he stated, meeting her eyes. She failed to find an argument.

He adjusted his posture, facing her completely with his knees to his chest.

"My father told me that if I fail, then I shouldn't come home," again, she failed to find an argument.

He tensed, leaning forward to her with glistening eyes and a hateful expression.

"I… have… nothing," he asserted, his face twitching under his cruel, accusatory glare.

He fell back against the wall, holding his glare toward her, and in that moment, something clicked.

Giving no warning, she slapped the boy across the face. He shook his head, confused, then met her eye again.

"You selfish piece of refuse," she insulted, gesturing to the hospital wing door, "What do you think his mother would have if you had gotten what you wanted tonight?"

He scoffed, glancing to the ground. She grabbed him by his jaw, forcing him to make eye contact. He struggled against her, but couldn't escape his bonds.

"You find yourself in a troublesome situation and your first instinct is murder? Thomas, I respected you. In fact, I respected you enough to give you my blessing to marry my daughter, and that was my mistake, but you are the sole person responsible for losing what you view as 'everything'."

She released his jaw, but he remained prisoner to her gaze unwavering and intimidating.

His gaze slowly softened. She could see his emotions changing, the clear conflict that she had seen in him before. He became overcome with distress in front of her. She was unsure of what to say. Her voice was clear and genuine.

"Thomas, you are a demon. You have demons. Anyone could understand why considering where you came from, but it doesn't mean that they have to define you."

She helped him to his feet, meeting his eyes with sincere care. She raised her wand with slight apprehension.

"Thomas, I cannot keep you here. I am sure that you understand why."

He tilted a brow, confused. With a quick wave of the wand, she removed the bonds around his legs. He didn't run. He only stared at her, confused.

"Are you actually going to let me go," he asked, genuinely surprised.

She nodded, explaining, "As I said, I cannot keep you here. As I am sure that you have concluded, you will not be allowed to court my daughter anymore. I understand that your father is… for lack of a better word, a bit of a hothead, so I'll leave you with this: If he was being genuine when he told you not to come home, then you have to know that you are more than his son. You can pick yourself back up and make a good life for yourself."

He didn't speak. He couldn't. He was truly shocked, but even more shocked as she spoke once more, adding "And-" she hesitated for a moment, "I will not tell Star what happened today. I expect that you will honor my choice and stay away from her. She doesn't have to know."

"You mean that-" he began.

Moon nodded, affirming, "She will not know what you did today. She cannot believe that you are truly as terrible as your actions today."

He stammered, "What- Why would you do that?"

Moon sighed, releasing his hands as she deemed that he was no longer a threat to her.

"I am doing this because Star's most valuable trait is her optimism. I envy her ability to see the best in people, and-" she struggled to admit it.

"...and the people of Mewni need her. They need her more than they need me. I see that now and I will do all that I am capable of in order to preserve her."

Tom's gaze slowly fell to the ground.

"I-" he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck shamefully.

"I understand," he declared, his eyes wandering as he continued to contemplate.

He snapped his gaze back to her, somewhat panicked, he asked "Then what do I do? Where do I go?"

Moon placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, meeting his somber expression with a firm one.

"You have to move on. You must return to the Underworld and face whatever may happen. If you are lucky, your family will accept your return. After that, it is up to only you what may happen," she explained, feeling as his shoulders dropped.

He stepped away from her, reaching for the scissors in his pocket only to realize they were empty. He turned to Moon, eying her somewhat accusatorily.

She held the scissors, holding them out for him to take. He came to her, receiving the scissors by the blade. Moon didn't immediately let go. Tom's eyes slowly moved to hers.

"I truly wish the best for you," she remarked earnestly, releasing the scissors and continuing to meet his gaze. He stared at the scissors for a moment, intensely analyzing his reflection. He saw something different than before. He wasn't sure what to make of it, but he had nowhere else to go. His head slowly raised until their eyes connected once more. Moon lifted a brow, confused.

Suddenly, she felt the boy spring toward her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight embrace.

"Thomas, what are you-" she struggled against him, but he wouldn't release. She wasn't one for hugs, but it was clear that Tom needed this one. She didn't have what it took to reciprocate, but she meant what she said before, so she allowed him to take what she assumed he needed.

And after a while, he finally released, turning around and holding the scissors in his hand and dragging them against the air, a portal cutting open just in front of him. He glanced back at Moon, still reluctant, he waved a hand, bidding "Goodbye," only a moment before stepping through the portal.

Moon's eyes lingered over where the portal had been for several seconds.

"Don't make me regret this, Thomas," she mumbled to herself as she finally turned around and moved closer to concluding her already lengthy night. Her path was familiar. She walked through the great hall and into the throne room, then through a corridor and into the dimly lit library, where not a soul remained. She scanned the room, spotting a bare leaflet of parchment with a quill only inches away.

She exhaled, sitting down with the parchment and staring into it as she thought about her daughter. She wasn't sure exactly how to word it, so she resorted to a method that she hadn't used since she was younger than even her daughter. She spoke from the heart.

The scratched the quill against the paper, thinking about her daughter, along with all that she had seen that day. Her daughter was the future, and she saw that now more than ever.

Her daughter's future was sure to be unorthodox, whether it included Marco or not. The Kingdom had never seen a Queen like her and, for once, she felt as though the people were ready for her. Today, the people screamed against her, but if they knew what she did for them on a near-daily basis, she was sure that they would feel differently.

Then, the wand came to mind. It belonged to Star. That was indefinite, but would she accept it immediately? Moon thought that she knew her daughter, and she would assume that she would take it, but now she wasn't sure. Regardless, she knew that she would have to hand it over, and she knew it was better to do it sooner than later.

There was more that she wanted to say to her daughter than she could fit on the paper. She wanted to tell her about Marco's sudden magical outburst. She wanted to tell her that she was a wonderful person, that she was a better person and soon to be a better Queen than herself, but she simply didn't have the words necessary to express herself.

More unprecedented than the events of that day was what she was doing then. Seldom was she one to apologize, and far less often did she find herself truly responsible for the outcomes of her actions, but her daughter had awakened something within her that day.

"I am not you," her words still bounced around her head. In fact, they had never stopped. It was as though the words were the first that she had ever heard from her daughter. They were so completely impressed upon her mind that she thought she might never escape them, and yet, she was thankful. She was thankful that her daughter dared to say the words, thankful that she was capable of what she hadn't been when she was her daughter's age. It was a gift that she didn't deserve. She knew it wasn't meant to be one, but now that she was thinking back to them, she could only think positively of her daughter.

She smiled as she continued to write the letter. Her eyes began to well up as she replayed the moment in her mind. Pride, immaculate, unforgettable. She felt immense pride for what her daughter had become. Not only was she a gift to her mother, but the people that she lived to serve. She was Star and that was perfect.

Her eyes glossed over and her body drained of nearly all energy, she waved the wand in the air, fabricating a long box with a pillow at the bottom. She lifted its lid and placed it aside. Carefully, she placed the wand on the pillow and wrapped her message upon its hilt. With care, she placed the cover over the box and lifted it with her hands.

Her legs were weak, fatigued after a day more chaotic than she could have ever imagined, but she pressed on, continuing to replay the prideful moment in her mind. She almost walked past the girl's room as her mind wandered. Only barely had she stopped in time. She turned, facing the door. Light emanated from underneath, meaning she was awake. She took a deep breath before finally knocking on the door, the room behind the door falling silent.

Inside the room, Star's gaze shot to the door. She didn't move for several seconds, but as she heard another knock, she rolled off of her bed and onto her feet, slowly walking toward the door.

There was a moment of hesitance, where she considered not opening the door. She had already been through so much that day. She only wanted to be left alone, but she couldn't force herself to be so cruel. She opened the door, quickly addressing, "I-" she noticed that there was nobody behind her door. She glanced from side to side, leaning out of her room. Through the long corridor, there was not a soul. The castle torches' dim lights illuminated the entire hall, but there was no life. She glanced to the floor, laying eyes upon the box, topped with a small note, reading "Happy Birthday, Star. From: Mom".

Her eyes widened as she stared at it for several seconds. She lifted the present and carried it onto her bed, walking to her door and pushing it closed behind her. She stared at the box apprehensively.

After her exchange with her mother earlier, she was sure that her mother would still be mad. She was so sure that she was almost convinced that the gift wasn't even from her mother, that it could be some sort of trap, but her curiosity was too much to overcome.

She lifted the lid of the box and let her mouth hang open as she laid her eyes upon the wand. She reached for it instinctively but pulled her hands back as she noticed the small piece of parchment attached to its handle. She gripped the paper's edge and slowly pulled it away from the wand's golden handle. She glanced at the wand and determined that she was more interested in the message attached. She turned her back to the wand, sitting on the edge of her bed and slowly reading the letter from top to bottom.

Her brows lifted in surprise with every word she read. Truth, a foreign language to her mother, and yet the paper was so thoroughly filled with it. The words didn't even seem like her mother's, and yet, she knew they were. As she read them, her mother's voice repeated them in her mind.

Her eyes glossed over. She took a moment to process what she was reading before continuing. She sniffled, raising the paper to her face again.

A single tear rolled against her cheek. She quickly wiped it away.

Everything on the message was new, never before said by her mother. An apology, followed by a thorough explanation while making no excuses, a full paragraph expressing how worthy that Star was of the wand and just how proud she was of Star's efforts, and even a portion of the paper explaining that the people of Mewni were lucky to have someone like her.

She broke down, her eyes flooding out. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. She finished the letter, her hand shaking. She placed the paper to the side, joyous tears streaming down her face. She wiped them away, giving her full attention to the wand with a newfound interest.

There was almost no hesitation. She gripped the center of the wand and held it high above her. The gem began glowing, sending a bright stream of gold through her veins and into her heart. The wand transformed in front of her, from the elegant staff into a smaller, more personalized wand that simply reeked of her personality. A purple hilt leading into a beautiful, star-shaped gem in the center of the wand, adorned by two perfect, white wings, a small crown at the tip of the wand. She smiled, her eyes wide with disbelief as she continued to stare at it.

She laughed to herself, unsure of how to act. She was in ecstasy, lost in her happiness. She ran to her balcony, holding the glowing wand out in front of her. She screamed in happiness, focusing her excitement through the wand.

A beautiful display followed. Lights of blue, yellow, and any other color she could think of shot into the sky. Moon walked through her bedroom door, immediately running to her husband's side at her balcony. They stared out at the display, hand in hand. Mewmans left their homes staring out in wonder. Monsters glanced to the sky, even their eyes lost in the wonder of the display.

"You made the correct decision," he remarked, staring out at the wonderful display. They both smiled, watching with wonder.

Author's note: That took forever, but I finished, finally. Yeah, there's a lot to talk about here. First, 900 views, wow, thank you so much. When this story started, I assumed it would be smaller, but it has really caught on and I couldn't be happier to see it. I think part of that is accredited to the story that we all seem to like. I'm going to be honest, most of this wasn't planned. A lot of this is just crazy additions that I made at the last second and I think it came out great because of the risks that I took. I don't want to toot my own horn too much, but I am very proud of how this chapter turned out and I hope you are too. Now, about the choices I made: Tom has clear motives for doing what he did and I intended it to go that way. He is not a terrible person. He has a terrible upbringing and he loses everything, so he lashes out. Also, Moon went through a lot of development in this chapter. She is known to be prissy, uncaring, and indifferent, but in this chapter, she takes responsibility for her part in all of it and, like Tom, faces her demons. This isn't to say that she is perfect, but she did something very good. Also, I think that Star deserved a win. And yes, I kept the complete contents of the letter between her and her mother. I think that it is better that way.

Now, I have no comments to reply to, so I'll get straight to this part. Please, comment, I beg. I really enjoy hearing from my readers and your input is more valuable than I can explain. I smile every time I see a follow, favorite, or even a Kudo. Basically, these affirmations give me a reason to do all of this and I really just want to hear what you think of my story, so if you have time, please feel free to leave a comment, whether it be constructive criticism, a question, or even a prediction of where you think it's all going. Really, say anything, I love the comments.

Now, my spring break is over, so it might be a while, but I always make updates on my Instagram page starcovstheworld, so follow that if you want to know what's up. Anyways, I'll see you soon. Goodbye!