Author's Note: It begins to get kind of intense, so beware. I've kind of been planning this chapter for a while…so I had to get it just right before I posted it.

"Do not see him again, Marco."

"Do not see him again, Marco."

The words repeated over and over again in Marco's mind as he tried to sleep. He wasn't quite sure whether it was Corey speaking about Dylan or the other way around, but it scared him nonetheless.

Trying to sleep during the afternoon had become quite common for him due to his inability to get any at all during the night. He had to make up for it somehow. Marco rolled over onto his other side, pulling down the shade over the window by his bed, doubting he'd even shut his eyes for more than a minute.

People were talking about him. Ellie told him she had a feeling it had been Corey who let it out, but he just wouldn't believe it. Why would Corey want to get himself into deep trouble or…just simply have people hate him? It didn't make any sense, and there had to be a much more logical explanation, a more reasonable way people found out.

Marco got out of bed, giving up on the idea of actual sleep. It was completely useless. He ran a hand through his air, walking out into the kitchen. Was his mother still not home? Oh, of course not. It was only four. Marco thought he'd at least rested for a bit more than just ten minutes.

Hearing the front door open, Marco curiously raised an eyebrow. His mother wouldn't be home yet. Perhaps, she had come home earlier because of the given situation, and maybe she was worried about Marco.

"Mom!" he called out, slightly paranoid. His mother would have called his name already if she was home. He anxiously moved back into the direction of his room after getting silence after his shout.

It wasn't even like he could grab the house phone if there was a problem because it was in the living room. He definitely didn't want to go in there. Marco was sure it was nothing. After all, he remembered a few months back, his cousins had fooled around, trying to scare him, and it had worked. If he just relaxed, it would turn out to be nothing.

Then again, Marco didn't seem to be able to relax about anything lately. "I—my dad is in the basement," he said warningly.

He didn't actually know what to say, but that seemed like something weak. Had he sunk so low? Could he no longer defend himself? He knew the gay bashing and Corey had taken a toll on him, but really…he wasn't that pathetic, was he?

Marco heard a low laugh from the living room. "Your parents don't get home until later, Marco."

Marco closed his eyes. If he could get to the phone, he could call the police on a murderous lunatic…but he didn't think he could for Corey. He knew his parents' schedules? Stalker?

"Corey," whispered Marco, hoping he could hear him or that he would just stay in the living room alone, "please go home," he begged.

Corey finally walked into the room, looking worse than Marco had ever seen him. His dirty blond hair was a mess, and his eyes were red, looking as though he hadn't slept in ages. He honestly looked crazy. The worst part of all was…

"Hey, baby," he said, his voice as sweet as it could be.

…was he held a gun by his side.

"I know you didn't want to break up with me," said Corey, "so I'm willing to forgive you for the mistake."

Corey walked closer while Marco walked backwards out of the kitchen to his room. "Why are you walking away, Marco?" asked Corey quietly, a far away sound to it.

Marco closed his eyes, praying that this was a dream, and he'd wake up somewhere else. He didn't think he could breath. 'Come home,' he said inside his head. 'I need you to come home.'

Marco didn't have any idea what to do. "Co—Corey, it…it wasn't a mistake," he said, trying to be brave, but any bravery was hard to achieve when a boy had a gun in his hand without anyone else around.

"I don't want to shoot you, Marco," he said, realizing where Marco's eyes had drifted.

Marco had now arrived at his bedroom door again, walking back in carefully, Corey still following very closely behind.

"Why—why do you have a gun then?" he asked, wishing Dylan had given him his cell phone earlier.

"Just a precaution," he said. "Like, in the case that you won't come back to me, which I know is not going to happen, right, Marco?"

Marco was breathing in and out slowly, knowing that, unless someone threw the door open at that moment, he had to get back with him, and risk an even more abusive relationship…or be shot to death. Hell, Corey would probably shoot him even if the door opened. Depending upon who walked in, he might even be killed faster.

"Save me," Marco mouthed up toward the ceiling. There was nothing else he could do.

"You never used to be afraid of me…not until he convinced you I was bad, Marco," said Corey, playing with the gun in his hand. Marco tried to keep his eyes off of it.

"Wh—who?" asked Marco, buying for time. Maybe if he stalled long enough, his mother would come home.

"You know very well who," spat Corey, disgusted by merely talking about Dylan. "He's the wrong one in this situation. You know that, right?"

Marco nodded, coming to a point where there was nowhere else to go. He was backed up against his wall, all but tied up.

"I—I love you, Corey," he said affectionately, reaching his hand out nervously to touch his face. Corey turned his head away.

"Then why did you leave me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dyl—Dylan told me to, and I…I was afraid not to," said Marco, making it up as he went. Stalling was working for the moment. Even if he had to promise Corey he'd be with him forever, kiss the hell out of him, and make some undying vow of love, he'd be able to call the police as soon as his mother got home, and be rid of him forever.

"See, he's just bad news," said Corey, holding Marco's hand with his free one. "Be with me again, Marco." He didn't ask; he demanded.

Marco knew that if he just kept lying to Corey about his feelings, he could get Corey to calm down, but he still felt guilty about making it seem as though he didn't like Dylan. He involuntarily shook as he felt Corey's hand creeping up his arm. "You want to go somewhere?"

"How did people find out, Corey?" he asked, hoping for even more time. When was his mother coming home?

"Find out about what?" he asked, taking his hand off Marco's arm.

"What you…our…problems," he said, looking down at his feet. There was the gun, flipping around in his hand. If only he could grab it…throw it outside or something stupid like that, just get it out of his presence.

"Problems…" he repeated, looking puzzled.

Marco shook his head. "Never mind," he mumbled. If Corey was going to pretend he'd never done anything, Marco didn't want to cause a fight.

"Come on, baby. Maybe we should go somewhere," said Corey, slipping the gun into his back pocket, and taking Marco's hands.

"Uh-huh," said Marco slowly, glancing at the clock on the wall. His mother would be home any second, and Corey wanted to leave before she got there. Marco had to admit, as he did many times, he wasn't stupid.

Corey took Marco's hand, leading him out quickly into the living room. "Corey, not so fast. Jeez," he rolled his eyes. All Corey wanted to do was to get out there, and all Marco wanted to do was stay there until someone came home.

As soon as they arrived into the living room, the door clicked open. Marco breathed a sigh of relief, but quickly tensed up again. What was going to happen? Corey wrapped his arms around Marco's waist tightly, signifying he wasn't going to let him go.

Mrs. Del Rossi walked inside, obviously not expecting to see what was before her. She dropped her bag. "What is he doing here, Marco?" she asked, looking strangely at the way he was holding him. She reached for her cell phone conspicuously

Corey's one arm became tighter, as he let his other one pull the gun out of his pocket. "Don't," he warned, pointing it at her.

Mrs. Del Rossi visibly shuddered. She stared at her son, enveloped in Corey's arms, looking terrified and broken. It didn't matter that there was a weapon facing her. Her son was in trouble.

She dialed 9-1-1 on her cell phone. Corey wasn't sure whether or not she'd even pressed the call button yet before he pulled the trigger, a loud bang echoed through the house. Corey was armed and dangerous.

Author's Note: Please review.