A/N: So, you may want to kill me after you read this chapter. I don't know. Lol. This is something I've had planned since the very beginning, so (psumathgirl, sorry if this problem wasn't what you wanted or expected) I know how it's basically going to end up turning out. Also, I have to say that I always like to personally reply to my reviews, but on some reviews, my computer didn't want to this time! If you're one of those people, I'm sorry, but I'll just say thank you here to all of you who take the time to review. It really makes me happy :) I'm also not really sure about this chapter…It was going to be a bit different, but whatever.

"Marco, hey!" said Dylan, coming to the door.

"Sorry, I'm late," Marco smiled guiltily. "I missed the whole surprise thing, right?"

"No big deal," Dylan took Marco's hand. "Come on, hun!" Dylan led Marco into the kitchen to greet everyone, specifically guiding him away from Spinner. Either Spinner hadn't noticed his arrival or he was making a point to ignore him.

After everyone had exchanged pleasantries with Marco, and he'd said happy birthday to Paige, he and Dylan walked back into the living room.

"So, I heard Spinner didn't really take it that well," said Dylan, sitting down next to him on the couch.

Marco shook his head. "I don't care," he whispered, which he knew was a lie. Obviously, he cared very much. Dylan seemed to see through his lie.

"Come on," Dylan probed, lifting Marco's head up to look him into his lying brown eyes. "You have to tell me the truth."

Marco sighed, leaning into Dylan who held him tightly, not caring about the others in the room. Besides, they all were obviously enjoying themselves too much to pay attention.

Marco thought about what he wanted to say carefully, finally deciding Dylan didn't care too much about his reasoning; he just wanted, "Okay, I do care."

Dylan laughed, a sound that seriously surprised Marco. What in the world was so funny?

"Why, though?" he asked.

"Why?" Marco repeated, pulling away, and turning to face him. "How can you ask me why? I care because it matters to me."

Dylan smiled slightly. "That really doesn't answer my question," he said.

Marco rolled his eyes. "I don't like when people don't like me, Dylan. I thought you would understand that. Especially by now."

"Marco," Dylan took his hand in his, rubbing slow circles around his wrist, calming Marco slightly, "I'm sorry, but I really don't get why it matters to you."

"It just does," Marco shot back, ready to just end the conversation because he knew he felt tears coming.

"This isn't about Spinner," Dylan said, still speaking calmly. Marco was annoyed that Dylan was acting the way he was, mainly because he knew what he was saying was right. It wasn't just because of Spinner. He was definitely part of the problem, but it wasn't him alone.

"Yes, it is," Marco said back to him, putting his hand over his eyes, begging for the tears to not come.

"No," Dylan argued, knowing Marco's patience was breaking, "it's not."

"You're scared," he continued, ignoring Marco's obviously pained face.

"Maybe I am, but that still--"

"Don't tell me it doesn't mean anything because it means everything, Marco. I don't want you to be afraid to be who you are," said Dylan, letting go of Marco's hand.

"You didn't," said Marco, "by any chance, talk to Ellie, did you?" he laughed.

"No, but we all see how you're beating yourself up," said Dylan, leaning over to kiss him.

And suddenly, Marco noticed the people. Sure, he'd noticed them before. He'd heard them speaking, but now he cared. What did those people think of him? What were they thinking about when Dylan kissed him?

'Relax, Marco,' he told himself calmly. What they thought didn't matter, right? That's what Dylan was trying to tell him! He smiled, and tried to act like nothing was wrong.

"My cousin hurt me," Marco whispered, always shocked when things such as that came out of his mouth. He hadn't planned on saying it, and really didn't know where it came from.

"What?" Dylan asked, confused.

"My cousin…he…it doesn't really matter," he laughed nervously. He hated talking about it.

"No, it does," said Dylan. "It really does. Please."

"He just," Marco was ashamed to find himself crying, "hurt me really badly. Physically and emotionally, and I'm not over it."

"Okay," said Dylan softly, running his hand along Marco's forearm, really not sure what to say.

"And I keep saying I am!" cried Marco, no longer trying to prevent the tears, knowing they were going to keep coming. "I'm just not, though. What he did, like, ruined me. No one understands."

No one understood the pain he had kept inside for so long after the incident with Giulio. Hell, no one understood when he had told his father "Giulio is out to get me. He hates me, dad."

No one ever took him seriously because he was being a 'drama queen' in their eyes. No one understood what it felt like to wake up in the hospital one morning, knowing the last person he had seen was Giulio, but not remembering anything that had happened on that night.

No one understood how it felt to be told that you were never going to see again. They didn't understand how it felt to have eyes on a face as mainly decoration because what good did the eyes do if their main purpose wasn't functional? It was kind of like keeping a broken toy that can no longer be used.

No one understood how emotionally drained he'd been after the word 'faggot' had been imprinted into his heart as though it was supposed to tell people his name. It hurt that Marco had to walk around carrying the feeling that everyone simply knew what he was because he couldn't hide. It. Everywhere he went, he felt people's eyes on him.

No one even tried to understand until Dylan came along. He wanted to get it. He wanted to know how Marco was feeling. If he could, he'd have taken Marco's pain away, but there was too much. Too much pain.

"The truth is, I don't think I'll ever get over it," said Marco. "I don't know what I want."

Marco had confessed all of those feelings to Dylan in the best way he could, hoping that none of the other occupants of the room had noticed. The music was probably too loud, anyway. Marco could barely hear himself think.

Dylan looked down, unsure of what to say. He had enough brain cells to figure out that Marco's cousin was the one who had blinded him. He didn't ask how; he didn't want to know.

"I'm sorry," was all he said. "Do you want to go home, Marco? I'll be fine if you do," he said, kissing his cheek softly.

"I don't know," he shrugged. He had finally stopped crying "No, I want to be here." Leaving wasn't a good option. Staying with Dylan made him happier, after all. There was no reason to go home.

"So, I'm glad you told me…" said Dylan, finally letting go of Marco. Marco, though sad that his touch had left, was happy that Dylan understood he didn't need to be constantly held and protected.

Marco nodded. "I trust you," he mumbled, still rather freaked out by that idea.

Dylan looked to the door, and then quickly stood up. "Upstairs?" he suggested, not waiting for Marco's response, but simply pulling him up the stairs with him.

"Uh, 'scuse me?" said Marco, pulling his hand away. Dylan sighed, tapping his foot.

"Sorry, but please?" he decided to ask rather than to pull any longer.

Too late. "Hey, Dylan," said the boy he'd been trying to avoid.

"Hey," said Dylan, keeping his eyes off the box in his hands. "How are you?" he asked.

"Fine…don't lunge at it, Dyl," he winked, walking off to the kitchen. Dylan quickly turned back to Marco.

Marco raised an eyebrow. "What was that?" he asked, the confusion of not seeing what went on around him was building up.

"My friend Mike," said Dylan, shrugging. "He likes to torture me."

"Okay…" said Marco slowly, not really interested in pushing the subject any further. "Are we still going up the stairs?" he asked, laughing slightly.

"Oh, no, it's fine now," Dylan replied, taking Marco's hand. Marco shook his head, beyond confused.

"You want to go outside?" he asked. "I mean, I love these people and all, but it's getting kind of crazy."

Marco definitely didn't mind being able to get away from the people as well, and nodded. "Absolutely," he said.

In order to get to the backyard deck, which was where they were heading, the two needed to walk through the loud kitchen. Out of all the places for the rambunctious guests to settle in, why was it the kitchen?

"Dylan," said Mike from the corner of the room. Marco felt his hand being released as Dylan greeted his friend with a handshake.

Marco was going to move closer to take Dylan's hand again, being nervous in such a place where so many people were crashing into him, but when he tried to get closer, he decided he'd better stay put. More collisions would actually be avoided that way.

He simply decided to tap his foot against the ground, waiting for Dylan to realize how uncomfortable he felt.

"Oh, Mike," said Dylan, guiding Marco in front of him again, "this is my boyfriend, Marco." Dylan had no idea how much that word affected Marco.

"Hey, Marco," said Mike. "It's nice to meet you," he held his hand out for Marco to shake. Dylan guided Marco's hand toward Mike's, and Marco got the picture, shaking it. Mike looked confusedly up at Dylan.

"Nothing," Dylan muttered, not certain he was supposed to tell people.

"Oookay," laughed Mike. "So, Dylan, still think you can make it?" he smirked.

"Well, Mike," Marco could tell he was speaking through gritted teeth, and he wondered what was wrong, "I'm going to make it. I'm not stupid enough to--"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Mike interrupted, rolling his eyes, and Marco could tell he didn't seem quite as angry as Dylan. He just simply sounded skeptical.

"Come on, Marco," said Dylan, continuing their venture to the backyard.

"One can't hurt!" they heard Mike yell before closing the sliding door.

Dylan sat down on the white porch swing, pulling Marco down next to him. Marco was silent, and though he was itching to know, he didn't ask what Mike had meant by what he said. He tried to relax, leaning his head on Dylan's shoulder who smiled and stroked his hair lightly.

After a few minutes of silence, Marco simply had to break it. His curiosity got the better of him.

"So, what was Mike talking about?" (A/N: It's so odd. I knew I had some connection with the name Mike, but I couldn't remember from where. He has nothing to do with I See You. I swear lol.)

"Oh," said Dylan, not entirely shocked that he'd brought it up. "He was just being stupid. He drinks…a lot."

"So, he's…drunk?" Marco asked, trying to get the facts straight.

"Maybe," Dylan shrugged. "Who knows?"

Dylan had gotten what he'd wanted by having Marco drop the subject, but Marco wasn't stupid. Dylan wasn't telling him everything. Marco did; however, stop talking about it with him.

"I'll be back," said Dylan, stretching for a moment before going inside. Marco sighed. He didn't like the thought of being out on an unfamiliar porch alone.

"Sure," he didn't protest. He wasn't dependent on Dylan, was he? Dylan certainly wasn't allowed to think he was, anyway.

"Hey, Del Rossi!"

Great. Here he was, thinking about how he wasn't afraid to be alone without Dylan, his protector, and someone decides to prove to him that he definitely was.

Marco's whole body automatically tensed up at the thought of someone else being outside with him. He knew the voice, of course, but it didn't stop him from being nervous.

"Yes, Spinner?" he asked, hoping he would just go away.

"Where's your boyfriend?" said Spinner, smirking. "He leave you?"

If Marco wasn't so nervous, he'd probably have made some sort of comment about how Spinner was obviously in love with him, and that the only reason he was angry with him was because of jealousy.

However, he was nervous, so that didn't come out of his mouth. "No," he said softly, ashamed to see his hands were shaking. Lord, Spinner wasn't going to kill him! Why was he so shaken up?

"Easy, Marco," Spinner laughed. "Scared of me?" he asked. Actually, Marco didn't believe Spinner would hurt him. He didn't seem to hate gays, more just uncomfortable and slightly grossed out by them. Hatred was a scary word. Being uncomfortable wasn't, really.

Even though he knew he probably had nothing to be afraid of, that had never stopped him before. He closed his eyes, willing Spinner to just walk away.

"Scared of me?" he asked again, laughing slightly. In fact, he didn't seem to even sound angry anymore. He just sounded completely shocked that Marco was, indeed, slightly scared of him.

'No,' he told himself confidently. He was just afraid of his words, and how they were making him remember things he really didn't want to remember.

"Are you afraid of me, Marco?"

"N-no," he denied, feeling him getting closer.

"Marco?" Spinner suddenly became worried, forgetting any problems he might have had with homosexuality after seeing Marco's face change the way it did.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Y-yeah," he said, shaking his head to rid the memories from his mind. That was actually a new one to him.

"I'm just going to—to go in," said Spinner. He really didn't want to stay with him anymore, feeling slightly responsible for the way Marco was acting.

Marco nodded, glad that he was leaving. He needed Dylan.

"Well, you said that one wouldn't hurt," said Dylan, swaying slightly on the spot. Mike shook his head, having had a bit too much to drink himself.

"Well, that's because you said you'd only have one. I can't be hel' respon…I can't be," Mike gave up on the word, sighing. "It's your fault."

"No," said Dylan.

Dylan and Mike were alone in the kitchen, due to the fact that the rest of the people in the room had decided to head to the more appropriate place. The living room. However, Dylan wished they had stayed. Maybe he could have prevented the couple of drinks he'd had. He hadn't really been counting, anyway, saying that he wouldn't go overboard.

But he always did. He promised himself that he wouldn't even have a sip because it always ended up the way it ended up at the party. He couldn't control his drinking. Ever. Not only that, but the worst part was he couldn't control the way he acted while drinking. Of course, that goes without saying; no one really can, but Dylan somehow managed to lose a lot of friends because of loss of temper. That was the main thing that happened to him when he drank: his ability to control his anger simply disappeared (anger that also happened to come of nowhere).

Mike had the same issue as Dylan. The difference was, Mike didn't really want to control it, so when Mike had made that proclamation, Dylan's parents had decided it would be better for the two not to hang around each other as much, which Dylan minded greatly at first, but after a while he realized, he and Mike didn't get along that well anyway.

The truth of the matter was, Dylan didn't even remember why, how, or when he started, but he knew that any chance he got, his hands were on that alcohol faster than anyone could take it away. His parents, since finding out about his little addiction, had kept him as far away from it as possible, and it was doing him well.

They didn't suspect Mike's arrival, nor did anyone else, and anybody at the party who actually noticed he was there, didn't care. Dylan knew he shouldn't have done it, especially after his family had worked so hard, not only keeping it from him, but also helping him with the needs.

Oh, but it had been so long. Yes, his family had done a good job and counseling was helping a hell of a lot, but seeing it again. Right there. At his reach. He couldn't handle it. And Mike knew it too.

"Dylan…" said Spinner, coming into the kitchen. Amazing. The first occupant back into the room. He thought it would have been Marco, but…damn, how long had he been outside?

"Um…I came in to tell you something, but I didn't realize he was here. Aren't you two, like, not supposed to," he hesitated, "like, be around each other?"

Apparently, the whole world knew that.

"Damnit, I'm 'onna go out for Marco," said Dylan, trying to walk past Spinner who seemed to be in his way.

"Move," he said angrily, surprised he'd even gotten the word out.

"Paige!" Spinner called. Dylan cursed. He knew bringing her in would be trouble. However, with the loud music, Paige was unable to hear him. Dylan, frustrated, pushed through Spinner, and walked outside.

Marco hadn't moved from where he'd been the entire time, but had his eyes closed when Dylan found him. Marco flinched when he heard the door opening. Dylan expected Spinner to follow him out, but he didn't. He suspected he was either having troubles with Mike or getting Paige.

"Who?" Marco asked, still not opening his eyes.

"Me," said Dylan.

"Okay," said Marco, still refusing to open his eyes, which made Dylan frown a bit in confusion. "I couldn't go in to look for you because I was afraid of, like, falling or something. I'm not used to this…uh…place. I can't feel my way around."

Dylan didn't really know why Marco was talking about that, so he just shrugged, almost falling himself, and sitting down next to him.

"You're drunk," he didn't ask, but told him, as though Dylan didn't wasn't aware.

Dylan simply laughed. "Huh?"

"I'm not an idiot, you know? And I would have gone back in there to talk to you and tell you what an idiot I think you are, but…" he stopped, forcing himself to stand up, hoping there was something he could grab onto if he thought he was going to fall.

"—but, as you can see, I can't easily do that. So, thank you very much. I enjoyed being left out here scared…" he didn't want to say the word, but he truly had been of being alone and of being with Spinner.

Dylan really wasn't paying any attention to what Marco was saying, but he had focused on the part where Marco had called him an idiot. What right did he have?

"Where are you going?" Dylan asked, annoyed, seeing Marco feeling his way to the door.

"Where do you think? I am trying to go inside," Marco said calmly, trying to keep himself from getting angry. He was upset with Dylan for going in, leaving him there, drinking, but most of all, for making him scared again. He hadn't felt scared….well, he'd felt nervous lately, but actually scared…he hadn't had to feel that in a long time, and for someone like Dylan to be the one to scare him was just something he hadn't planned on.

He convinced himself that he would be able to forgive him once he got home, but at that moment, he was nothing but upset. The fear had worn off after Spinner had gone inside. Though, every bad thing for him seemed to have a good thing. What Spinner had said triggered a memory. Something he hadn't remembered at all. It had been said that night…the night Marco had no memories of at all. It both frightened and excited him that he remembered even just a few words from that night.

"Don't…don't say…" said Dylan slowly, his words not coming out right.

Marco was trying so hard to ignore him, to just get in the house, but he couldn't. Dylan was his perfect person. He made everything feel okay, and he was being forced to admit that his boyfriend had flaws. He didn't want to see the flaws, and he was planning on just running away from the flaws. If Dylan would stop talking, it would have been a lot easier to do.

He'd finally gotten his hand on the door when he turned around to face him. "Don't say what?" he asked, knowing it was probably a bad idea to say anything when he was so close to walking away.

"Idiot."

Marco rolled his eyes, unable to control himself. He turned back to the door, regretting the fact that he'd actually gone outside. He backed away, though, back towards Dylan because he heard the door opening.

"Dylan," said Paige, sounding serious, "come back inside. Now."

Dylan shook his head, happy that Marco hadn't gone in when she opened the door.

Marco took a deep breath, the fear setting back in. "Go inside," he said.

Hearing Paige order him around had obviously not bothered Dylan, but he didn't sound too happy with Marco for agreeing with her.

"No," he shook his head. "I'm not--"

"Go," Marco interrupted, wanting to go in himself, "in."

"Marco," said Paige softly, obviously having dealt with Dylan before on these occasions, "he's just…"

"Stop!" said Dylan, irritated that Paige was talking about him as though he wasn't there. Marco and Paige seriously didn't want to stand out there with him while he was in that mood.

At that moment, Spinner stepped outside as well, and many of the people in the house started to realize something was wrong, as they crowded around the door.

Dylan wasn't too happy with the fact that people were standing there. He looked to Marco for help.

"Marco, you know I--"

"I don't know anything, Dylan," he protested, finally deciding it was time for him to go. He started to walk away, but Dylan grabbed onto his wrist. It didn't hurt, but he really wasn't in the mood for him, considering his behavior.

"Don't," he said, feeling himself lose control.

"Dylan," said Spinner, and Marco heard him walking up to them.

"No!" said Marco, not wanting any help from him. Spinner wasn't the person he really wanted to deal with either. "I can handle it." At the tone of Marco's voice, everyone backed off. Except Dylan.

"I'm going to see what the hell Mike is doing," whispered Paige to Spinner, walking into the house to prevent another problem from forming.

Marco said he could handle it, but he was close to losing his mind from all the pressure he'd been through in one night.

"Let go," he whispered, but knew Dylan was about to protest, so he pushed him away. It worked. At least, it worked in the way it was supposed to. Dylan did let go, but Marco felt himself being pushed back with a lot more force.

It's not as though it hurt that much, but it did cause him to lose his balance, and the push itself was a huge surprise because Dylan, at least, could have seen it coming. The blow had been extremely unexpected, mostly because he couldn't, literally, see it coming.

He sat down on the porch for a moment, vaguely wondering where Ellie was, since she had said she was going to be there. Maybe she'd decided against it.

"My hand," said Paige, as she had come back outside. Marco took the hand that was offered to him, after finding it, and allowed himself to be helped up.

"Marco…" said Dylan, not really knowing what to say, exactly. He had been angry, and still was, and hadn't really thought.

Marco followed Paige's footsteps into the house quickly, afraid to respond to Dylan, knowing whatever he did say wouldn't make Dylan happy. Honestly, he didn't want anything to upset Dylan at that moment. The scariest part of being pushed was that, if the others hadn't been watching, Marco feared he'd have done a lot worse.

Dylan didn't follow him, though. Fortunately.

"I'm going to walk you home, okay?" said Paige, not waiting for an answer. Though Marco wanted to decline, knowing it was her birthday, and she'd already been put through quite a bit, he didn't. He knew there really wasn't any other way he'd want to get home. Spinner wasn't an option. Dylan wasn't an option. He really didn't want to call his mother, seeing as she had dropped him off, and he preferred going home with someone who already knew what happened.

"Okay," he whispered, letting her walk him out the front door.

A/N: So, review? Please! I really hope you weren't disappointed with this. :)