Marco sat across from Dylan on the couch trying to stare him down. After every move Dylan would make, Marco's eyes would follow.

"Relax; I'm not going to jump you. We're been over this."

"Uh-huh," he nodded, though he still looked slightly unconvinced.

Dylan sighed. "Listen," Dylan took his hands. "You trust me. You do. You eventually forgave me."

"I don't know…why didn't you tell me before, though? You were obviously afraid for some reason."

"Marco, let's take a walk."

Dylan led him outside. Marco didn't ask where this walk was going; he didn't really care. He was confused. He felt a sort of hatred toward Dylan, but also felt, with recent circumstances, safer with no one else, (except perhaps Ellie).

He wanted Dylan to protect him from all the people who walked down the street. He felt as though everyone was staring at him, thinking, 'That's the boy who…'

He was glad he didn't have to ask for Dylan to protect him. He automatically put his arm tightly around his waist.

Dylan lightly kissed his cheek. "I know you're all confused right now, but you know I love you, right?"

Marco nodded, annoyed that this topic seemed to come up all the time. "Bench. Let's sit," he suggested.

"I'm not scared of you," he admitted softly. "I want to tell you something."

Dylan nodded, waiting patiently. "Well," Marco started, "it's actually kind of silly."

"Stop," Dylan demanded. "Whatever it is, I'll listen."

"Well, I feel like…well, a part of me remembers stuff about you, but I'm not sure it's my memories or what people have told me. Also, there are things in my head that are there, but the other part is sort of blocking them from me saying, 'No, don't think about that', so I don't against my will. Does that make sense?"

"Maybe you're scared to recollect them," Dylan reasoned.

"Subconsciously?" he asked, disbelieving.

"It's possible," he answered.

"But then, I remember dumb things! I remember cooking pasta!" he said, frustrated. "What good does THAT do?!"

Dylan laughed slightly, hoping not to offend him. "Come here," he gestured for Marco to lean against him. He did so, happily. Dylan played with a few of his stray hairs.

"Sweetie, like I said before, every memory counts for something." Marco rolled his eyes, irritated.

"Sure, I'll just cal my parents know, just in case they were worried, I remember making pasta one day," he sighed. "That's really great."

Dylan agreed. "Don't worry. We'll get you back. I promise."

They sat on the bench quietly. Marco chose to turn away from Dylan and look, instead, at the road. Every time a car passed, he would sigh. After ten cars whizzed by, Dylan finally decided to face the inevitable.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Marco answered. "Just annoyed. I want to drive. Really, I think I could"

"Marco, it really doesn't matter if you think you can because I'm so afraid of anything happening to you," he said honestly.

"Dylan," Marco said, suddenly serious, "If you teach me how to drive, I'll be fine."

"Obviously, that's not true because you knew how to drive and still crashed."

For a few minutes, after the outburst, everything was silent. Dylan sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Uh-huh," Marco replied coolly. "It wasn't…" Marco started.

"What?" Dylan asked.

Marco looked out with his eyes closed. "I was there. I know what happened."

Dylan looked at him, confused. "You…?"

"I remember…not the crash, but well, the cars trigger things, you know?"

"I'm just happy you remember something," Dylan smiled.

"I want to drive. I remember driving, so I should be allowed," he argued his case.

"Honey," Dylan tried to reason with him again, "The only memory you have with driving is crashing. When you get better, you can drive."

"I.Am.Fine. I'm physically fine, that is. So I don't have my memory, that's got nothing to do it!" he said angrily.

"Fine," Dylan said, "this is against my better judgment, but let's go home. We'll get in the car and drive; of course, with my instructions."

Dylan knew, as he said, that it was a dumb idea. He was doing it to appease Marco, but he knew that anyone with a brain would view this as a problem.

"Okay, so now what?" Marco asked patiently. Dylan knew he was happy he'd gotten his way.

Then…they began driving. Dylan was more nervous than ever trying to give him instructions every two seconds. Other than that, it was going pretty well.

"Umm…" Marco said nervously, "How…how…"

"You're doing fine."

"Oh my gosh," Marco said suddenly.

"What?" he asked, confused. "Like I said, you're doing fine," he said slowly.

He put his hand on Marco's knew, trying to calm him. Apparently, his gestures weren't helping.

"I need to stop," Marco whispered. He wasn't really talking to Dylan. In fact, it seemed he'd forgotten Dylan was there. "How?" he said, louder this time.

"Um, brake?" he suggested.

Marco seemed unable to stop. He pulled over quickly and Dylan had to lean over and push down the brake for him.

"What's up, Marco?" he asked.

"I don't…" his eyes filled with tears as he threw himself at Dylan. "I don't know what happened to me. I just saw…things."

"You remember the crash?" he asked, concerned.

Marco cried harder. "The car….and the windshield…it's vivid, but it's there."

Dylan held onto him tightly. "Shh," he rubbed his back. "It's alright."

He felt like he'd been saying that a lot lately.

A/N: I'm sorry if it's not what you were expecting. I tried really hard to get this chapter up. I've been slightly stressed out. Anyways, I have a new one-shot up, if anyone's interested. It should actually be up tomorrow. It's called Valentine's Day. Also, something I JUST realized, as I've been writing this story, Ellie doesn't live with them. I don't know why, but my mind completely forgot she lived with them. Sorry, I can't really throw her in now! Please review :)