Hullo. Todaywas my last day of school, so updates should be frequent from now on. Feel free to cheer. This was an exceptionally sappy chapter. I'm sorry, please excuse the fluff, but it was necessary. I don't own 'As Long as You're Mine' from the Broadway musical 'Wicked'. Oh, and Tonyboy-If it's the one I'm thinking of, then yes, I've seen it. We watched the "old version" in English class. I don't know who starred in it.

For three days Benvolio sulked in his room, only coming out to eat. He refused to go anywhere else, should he see her. He could tell his parents were worried and his brothers annoyed, but he didn't really care. He shut himself up, reliving that afternoon in his head, thinking about what he could have done, what he should have said, and the look on her face as she walked away. And he felt…terribly…lonely. In all his life, he had never felt lonely. Not lonely like this. This sudden feeling of having half of you missing. He missed her so much, and often wondered if she felt the same as him.

On his fourth day of mourning, his mother barged into his room, intent on making him get out of the house. Naturally, Benvolio was not pleased with this intrusion nor her intent.

"You are acting like your cousin before he died!" she exclaimed.

He was sitting in front of his window, leaning on the windowsill, longing for her. He glanced at his mother over his shoulder before turning back. "I've been having a bad week."

"Benvolio, you can't keep yourself cooped up in here! Everyone is sad, but life goes on!" She got no response from him. She sighed, sitting down on his bed. "They're making us throw a party."

He turned in his chair to look at her. "Who?"

"Your aunt and uncle." Anna rolled her eyes. "I hate throwing parties, but they feel the need to have one in October. A costume ball. They're still upset over Romeo…and I suppose they feel that perhaps planning this party will make them forget their problems. Except they want to have it here, so I have to help with all the planning."

"Have fun." He said sarcastically, about to turn around again.

Anna caught his arm. "Benvolio…please go into to town for me. They want to use a recipe our cook doesn't have, and apparently it's in this book." She held out a slip of paper. "Please, can you get it for me?"

Benvolio looked at his mother, then out the window, then back to his mother. "I…" Maybe he wouldn't see her. Maybe Marietta wouldn't be in town. Maybe, maybe, maybe. He weighed it in his mind. Fresh air, it might do him good. Make him forget for a little while. "Alright." He told her, taking the paper.

"Oh. Um, there's one other thing…" Anna ran her hand through her hair, not looking at him. "Your brothers…they, um…they sort of…"

"Mom. Just say it." Benvolio reached for his keys on his dresser. Except his keys weren't there. He stared at his mother. "What did they do?"

Anna took a deep breath. "Your brothers took your car."

Benvolio decided within the fifteen-minute ride into to town that he absolutely hated buses. They smelled, for one. And they had loads of weird people riding them. Like the bag lady a few seats in front of him that kept staring. And the girl across from him who was undoubtedly a man. He sank lower in his seat, trying to disappear. He had actually put a real shirt on today, instead of his usual Hawaiian ones. Along with the jeans jacket, baseball cap, and sunglasses, he sort of blended in. But then again, the bus was full of transvestites and homeless people. He was the only normal person on this thing.

He was very glad when the bus got to his stop, though the man dressed as a girl had blown him a kiss as he left. He leaned against the small bookstore, breathing the fresh air. He decided to hate his brothers as well as buses. It was their fault. "Take my car, make me go on that freaky bus, buy this stupid book…" he grumbled as he opened the door to the shop and went in. They were dead meat when he got home. Dead meat. And if they did anything to his car, he would personally rip their guts out and throw them in the ocean. But he'd worry about killing them later. He removed his sunglasses and started looking at the shelves.

Benvolio had little experience with bookstores, so he didn't really notice that the rows of books were in categories. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed that the cookbooks were occupying two shelves in the far right corner of the bookstore. But he wasn't paying attention, because a figure caught his eye.

Marietta stood between two rows of books in front of him, completely absorbed in whatever she was reading. Benvolio ducked behind the row she stood in front of, completely forgetting about the cookbook, about how they were supposed to stay away, about everything. He was just glad to see her. He leaned on a shelf, peering between them at her. She turned the page, her brow furrowing. She then marked the spot with her finger and read the summary on the back. Apparently something confused her. Benvolio read the title, 'Wuthering Heights'. Her brow remained furrowed as she went back to reading, though she began to chew on a piece of her hair. Benvolio watched intently, every movement captivating him. Did she realize how beautiful she was?

Had anyone ever told her she was beautiful?

Suddenly, Marietta closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. In doing so, she glanced upward, and saw two eyes gazing at her between the shelves. She gave a quiet shriek, stumbling backwards. Benvolio also jumped back, startled because she'd seen him.

"Marietta?" he said timidly, returning to the crack between shelves.

She searched his eyes for some hint of recognition. "Benvolio?"

He grinned. "Hello."

"You scared me!" she scolded gently. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I…" Why was he here, exactly? Then he remembered. "I have to buy a cookbook for my mom."

"Well, this is the Classics section. You want to be in the Cooking section." She pointed in the direction.

He laughed. "I'm so lost. I really have no clue what I'm doing."

"I'll help you." She said. She walked out from between the rows, and he did the same. They met in front of one, and Benvolio handed her the slip of paper with the title on it. Marietta took it and began navigating him through the bookstore.

"Your bruise looks better." He commented.

She touched it lightly, pushing her hair behind her ears. "Thanks. Um, when do you get your stitches out?"

"Sometime next week, I think." He replied.

She stopped walking and stared at the row in front of them. A look of concentration settled on her face as her eyes darted from book to book. She glanced down at the paper, then walked forward a few steps. She bent down and plucked a book from the bottom shelf. She smiled, handing it to him. "Here you go."

He took it, his hand brushing against hers. "Thanks." There was an awkward silence between them. "Well…I guess I better go now."

She nodded in agreement. "I have to head over to the theater."

Not speaking, the unhappy silence looming over their heads like a cloud, Benvolio paid for the book and they walked out of the store. Benvolio noticed Marietta wince a few times. Was something wrong?

"See you later, Benvolio." She said, trying to look nonchalant about it, but he could tell she was as sad as he was.

"See you." He echoed softly, watching her go. She was walking very stiffly, and every few steps she would wince. Her skirt swished around her ankles, and he caught a glimpse of white on one of her feet. She was hurt! But he couldn't do anything, he was supposed to be staying away. But…

Keeping his distance, Benvolio began to follow her.

Though she felt sad that she and Benvolio could not be together, Marietta laughed at the sight of Bernadette. She was sitting upside down in one of the seats, her guitar in her hands. She strummed, the familiar tune of 'Smoke on the Water' filling the air. Bern glanced up at Marietta. "Hello, one-and-only fan."

"Hi Bern." She sat in the seat beside her. "What're you guys gonna play today?"

"Remember that festival we went to last year?" Catherine asked her sisters. "Remember that song we really liked? Well, I've been searching every music store on the planet and I finally found the music!"

"Cat, you rock." Bern stated, getting out of her seat and jumping up on the stage.

For the past three days, Marietta had been coming to the theatre and listening to the girls play. And Bernadette, Catherine, and Irene had adopted Marietta into their group, taking her as their "mascot", so to say. She'd found out that the girls were fraternal triplets, seventeen, and completely obsessed with music. They were the first friends that were not a member of her family that Marietta had had in years. They were also her only friends, now that Juliet was dead.

Marietta sighed. It had felt so good to sit down. She drew up her skirt and looked at the bandage on her right foot. The last mark Abra had left on her was fading, but this new one stood out. She shouldn't even be walking without crutches, but with the chance of seeing Benvolio, she didn't want to appear hurt. Than he would worry, and though it would feel nice to have someone worry about her, she didn't need him to. Abra had disappeared after hurting her last night, and he would probably not return for a few days. She rubbed her foot. Abra had thrown a candlestick at her when she had tried to run from him. It had cut her foot, and then she had tripped over it, twisting, possibly even spraining her ankle. As far as she knew her parents didn't know about this, but if they did, they didn't seem to care.

A pair of feet crossed her line of vision. She looked up. Benvolio stood there. Trying to hide her injury, she dropped her skirt, covering the bandage.

"I thought you were going home." She said, breathless.

He didn't respond. Instead, he knelt down beside her and pushed her skirt up to look at the bandage. Then he looked up at her. "You do a very good job of hiding your injuries."

"It's nothing." She looked away.

"You said that last time." He gently prodded her ankle. She hissed. "You should see a doctor."

"I'm fine." She insisted.

"Walk." He demanded, standing and holding his hand out to her. "Show me that you're fine."

Defiantly, she stood up, and though it hurt like hell, she walked as she had in the bookstore, hiding her limp. He shook his head. She glared at him. She didn't want him to do this, it would only lead to their destruction. Suddenly, her legs gave out and she fell down, landing hard on the sand. He walked over and helped her up.

"Fine?" he asked.

She leaned on him, keeping her bad leg off the ground. "I didn't want you to worry."

"I have to worry." He told her, smiling. "I love you."

She wanted to kiss him. He made her feel like she mattered. Her parents, aunts, uncles, everyone in her family always ignored her. It was all about Tybalt and Juliet. No one paid much attention to her. Her other cousins were more important than her. But Benvolio cared. And what happened to her mattered to him. If only they were not of different houses…

Catherine's sudden shout brought her out of her thoughts. "Bern, here's the guitar part…"

"Acoustic or electric?" Bern replied, taking the sheet from her sister.

"What's going on?" Benvolio asked, helping Marietta sit down in her seat.

"We're playing this really awesome song we heard at a festival last year!" Catherine cried gleefully. She turned to her sisters. "It's acoustic. Irene, it actually came with a mandolin part, so you can play that." She handed the sheet to Irene and sat down at the keyboard. (She played that as well as the drums, but not at the same time)

Bern gave a strum on her guitar. "Ready when you are, Cat."

Catherine began to play, as Bern and Irene strummed lightly on their instruments. Bern started singing, though the only two listening weren't paying attention to the words.

"Why don't you want me to worry?" Benvolio whispered.

"We have to stay away. You and I know that." She replied.

He looked at her. "I don't want to be away from you."

"I know." She felt like crying. "And being apart is killing me." She buried her face in his shoulder, not caring for a moment if anyone saw them. He put his arm around her shoulders and rested his head on hers. She needed to matter to someone. She didn't want to be invisible to everyone anymore. And Benvolio, he could see her. He had seen her, instead of looking straight through her. She needed…him.

"And just for this moment, as long as you're mine. I've lost all resistance, and crossed some borderline. And if it turns out it's over too fast, I'll make every last moment last…as long as you're mine."

"Please don't make me stay away." She murmured.

"I don't want you to." He pulled her as close to him as the seats would allow.

"Maybe I'm brainless, maybe I'm wise, but you've got me seeing through different eyes. Somehow I've fallen under your spell, and somehow I'm feeling it's up that I fell."

"Benvolio, we're at peace. Nothing but our fear is stopping us." She tilted her head up and looked at him.

"…Say there's no future for us as a pair…"

He frowned. "But what about the wonderful man who messed up your leg?"

"I'll find some way to get him to leave me alone." She said.

Instead of answering, he gently kissed her. When they broke apart, he whispered, "Then we'll stay together. I love you too much to let you go."


"And though I may know…I don't care. Just for this moment, as long as you're mine. Come be how you want to and see how bright we shine. Borrow the moonlight until it is through, and know I'll be here holding you…as long as you're mine."

Damn it. It was hard to walk on crutches. Marietta nearly fell as she opened the door to her house. After they had "made up", Benvolio had insisted on taking her to a doctor to have her foot examined. And Bernadette, because she thought it would seem suspicious if they went out in a public place by themselves, had tagged along. Now Marietta was hobbling along on crutches.

She went inside her house, noting that there were no servants around. That was odd. She knew her parents weren't home, they had gone to a "conference" with her aunt and uncle-meaning they would talk and drink a lot of wine. Normally, Marietta would go with them to keep Juliet company, but since Juliet was dead, they saw no reason for her to attend. So she had prepared herself to be alone in the house all night. But she had expected the servants to be there.

She felt uneasy. What if Abra was here? She glanced around nervously as she pushed the large door shut with her shoulder. Then she remembered-the servants always had Wednesday evenings off. So she truly was all alone.

"Do you love him?"

A chill ran up her spine. She wasn't alone. She clumsily turned herself around. Abra stood at the top of the stairs, glaring at her.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." She started to walk, (well, hop really) away.

"Benvolio. Do you love him?"

It wasn't a question. It was a threatening sentence. If she answered yes, he would hurt her. If she answered no, he would suspect she was lying and would hurt her until she confessed. Either way, she lost. So she kept walking, ignoring him.

That wasn't a very smart move. She was almost out of the foyer, when she heard him run down the stairs, across the foyer, and-He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her off the ground. Her crutches clattered to the floor.

"Let go of me!" she shrieked, tugging at his hands.

"Fine." He threw her to the ground. She tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her bad foot. "Do you love him?" he growled.

"Why should I tell-AHH!" she screamed as he twisted her foot.

"Tell me if you love him!" he demanded, twisting her foot.

Torture. He was torturing her. And it hurt. It hurt even more than walking on her bad foot had. Tears of pain blurred her vision. Why was she letting him do this? Why not give him an answer? Then he'd stop. The pain would stop.

He gave her leg a particularly bad twist. Her scream became a word. "Yes!" He paused. "Yes…" she sobbed. "I love him."

He watched her cry for a minute. "And." He began. "Does he love you?"

"Yes…" she sniffled.

He dropped her foot and ran. Too late Marietta realized what he was going to do. "No!" she cried. "No, Abra, please-" But he was out the door and gone.

Marietta crawled slowly over to the telephone. She dialed, sobbing uncontrollably. "Please be there…"

"'Ello? O'Brian residence, triplet number one speaking." There was a crash in the background. "Catherine, stop doing whatever the hell you're doing!"

"Bernadette…" Marietta managed to choke out.

"Marietta?" Bern asked. "Are you okay?"

"He…he's going…he's going to hurt him..." Marietta whispered.

"Who?" Bern sounded very confused.

"Abra…he…he hurt me…and now…he's going…he's going to hurt Benvolio." Marietta couldn't stop crying. The tears kept coming.

"He'll be okay." Bernadette assured her. "Just stay on the phone with me, okay? He will be alright…"

"But why did you have to take my car!" Benvolio shouted.

"Well, how else were we supposed to go anywhere?" Gregory said, exasperated.

"Yeah, you weren't exactly in the brightest of spirits this morning." Sampson added.

The sun was getting low in the sky. Benvolio had arrived home awhile ago, but his brothers had only just returned. He had almost finished yelling at them about taking his car. Their parents were used to these fights and ignored them.

"But still! It's my car!" Benvolio argued.

"And you having been acting weird since last Friday!" Sampson shot back.

"And why should it matter to you how I act!" Benvolio was very close to strangling his brothers.

"Because you've never been like this!" Gregory shouted back.

There was a silence. It was true, Benvolio had been acting differently since he met Marietta. He suddenly wasn't angry anymore. "I'm sorry. But…well. When you find what I have, I think you'll understand. And I'm sorry I got mad. It was just a very large inconvenience."

"We should have asked." Sampson shrugged.

"And good luck with that Capulet girl." Gregory grinned, and the two of them ran out of the room, cackling madly.

Well, well. His brothers had more brains in their heads than they let on. Benvolio made his way up the stairs to his room. But when he opened the door to his room, he had to gasp. Someone had broken in through his window and trashed his room. Covers thrown off his bed, clothes strewn everywhere, furniture overturned. And scrawled on one of the walls is red paint, was this message:

I can do much more than this. Stay away from her, and perhaps your body won't be found in a dark alley. This is your second warning, Benvolio. Three strikes and you're dead.

This was serious. Abra wasn't giving up, he meant business. And what would his parents say when they saw this? He had to clean this up fast. He called for his brothers, who came running in. They stared in shock at the mess and the words.

"You've got quite the enemy." Gregory said, whistling.

"All this over a Capulet girl?" Sampson raised his eyebrows.

"Yes. But you need to help me get this cleaned up before someone sees. And not a word to anyone about this!" Benvolio instructed.

"Yessir." They mock saluted.

They began to straighten up. The damage wasn't too bad, the worst was the paint on the wall. Halfway through cleaning up, the telephone rang somewhere in the house. A few minutes later, their mother called.

"Benvolio! Phone's for you!"

He shrugged at his brother's questioning looks and went to pick the phone up in a different room. "Hello?"

"Yo. Have you ever been in a three-way call?" Bernadette's Irish brogue was the voice on the other end.

"Um…no." Benvolio replied, extremely confused.

"Well, we'll have to work with that. Don't hang up." There was a click. A few seconds later it clicked again. "He's here." Bernadette told someone.

"Benvolio?" Marietta's quick, tearful voice reached his ear.

"Marietta!" He didn't like the way she sounded. Something was wrong. "Are you okay?"

"Am I alright!" she cried hysterically. "I thought he…he would…" her voice grew soft. "Kill you."

"Oh, no, I'm fine, nothing happened to me. Don't worry. He just sort of trashed my room." Benvolio assured her. "What about you? Did he do anything to you?"

"He twisted my leg. It really hurts." She sniffed.

"As touching as this is, and I truly don't mean to sound rude, but I really don't think that continuing this relationship is a good idea." Bernadette said. "But that's just me, I'm not the one with death threats on my head."

"I can't leave her with him." He replied. "I can't make her face him alone."

"You're not immortal, Benvolio." Marietta said softly. "If he says he's going to kill you, he has a good chance of succeeding. He's powerful. You can't protect me forever. You can't escape death."

"What's gotten into you? You're talking like you've given up!" Bern exclaimed.

"You just told us to give up." Benvolio reminded her.

"I didn't say 'give up', I said 'continue the relationship', and by that I meant 'start meeting at night, stupid.'" Bern shot back.

"Hey, Bern? I…I really don't want to be alone tonight. Can I…can I spend the night at your house?" Marietta asked cautiously.

Silence. Then, an enthusiastic cry. "Whoo! Par-TAY!" There was a crash as Bern apparently ran into something.

"I can't drive, though, with my foot…" Marietta pointed out.

"I can borrow Cat's truck." Bern replied.

"What about my truck?" Catherine exclaimed somewhere in the background.

"I'm borrowing it to pick up 'Etta." Bern explained.

"'Etta?" Benvolio asked Marietta.

"I really have no idea." Marietta responded, laughing slightly.

Meanwhile, Bern appeared to be yelling at the people in her house. "I can invite friends over whenever I want to, Mum!"

"I think we can hang up now." Benvolio stated.

"I think so too." She agreed.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." He told her.

"Alright." She was about to hang up. "Benvolio?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He smiled. "I love you too."