Author's Note: So, I'm pretty annoyed because I got up really early, got all ready for work, and then she cancelled on me, like, an hour before. Sooo annoyed. Also, I'm annoyed about the listing order of my stories…it used to go by first updated. What happened? Did this happen to anyone else? Anyway, here is the chapter.
Because of the shock that came from the gunshot, Corey let go of Marco easily, letting him fall to the ground beside his mother. He rubbed his hand across her cheek.
"Corey, what did you do?" he asked, turning around to face Corey who looked more shocked than Marco. "Corey!"
Corey didn't answer him. His eyes were wide, and he dropped the gun by his side, feeling his throat dry up completely. Marco looked desperately at him. This was a nightmare, a nightmare of the worst kind.
Marco grabbed the phone off of the catty, assuming his mother had never reached the emergency line, and he dialed. Corey watched in a daze. "Don't tell them what happened," he finally managed to mutter. "We just came here, and found her."
Marco ignored him. It didn't matter anyway because they didn't ask what the situation was. They simply asked his name and where he was, then told him they were on their way. Marco knew someone would have stayed on the line with him, which would have made him feel better, but he decided not to ask. Corey would get suspicious.
He hung up the phone, holding his mother's limp hand, praying that she would be okay. This was all his fault, all his fault. "Marco, she'll be fine."
Marco looked up at him incredulously, letting tears spill down his face without a care. "Corey, why did you do that?" he asked. He really didn't want to know. "Why?"
"Marco, you're all that matters to me," he said quietly.
"Well, my mother matters to me, Corey!" he shouted, holding his hand to his chest because he didn't think he could breathe. He anxiously played with the cross that hung around his neck while he silently continued his prayer. Let her be okay.
The police arrived, shortly following the ambulance and fire engines. Marco felt like the entire world was just staring out their windows to see what was going on.
"My mom," Marco said immediately to the first person who walked in, "she—I don't know if she's…" Marco couldn't force himself to say the word 'dead'.
"What happened?" asked an officer while another man and woman tried to help Mrs. Del Rossi onto a stretcher, leading her out to the ambulance car.
"I need to go with them," he said, still allowing more tears to come to his eyes. "Please," he begged the police officer, "let me go with them."
"I just need to know what happened here," he said, putting a hand on Marco's shoulder.
Marco looked at Corey, then to the gun on the ground. "Don't," Corey mouthed, "you dare."
Corey slowly picked up the gun again, pointing it at Marco's back that was now turned to him. "He shot her," said Marco.
Corey's mind froze, and with the police officer's eyes on Marco's face intently, Corey pulled the trigger a second time before the officer could even register that he'd picked up the gun.
It looked like Marco would be riding with his mother after all.
When Marco arrived at the hospital, only half-conscious, even subconsciously, he knew he didn't want to let his mother go somewhere without him. He held her hand, only letting go when a nurse pulled him away, taking him to a room of his own. By the time they reached the room, he was finally out.
"He's going to be okay, right?" asked a nervous voice from above him. Marco could barely make out whom it sounded like in his confused state.
"The doctor said he'd be fine," said another.
"He was shot! No one is ever 'fine' after being shot!"
"Well, not fine, but—"
"Stop!" Marco knew that voice.
Marco groaned both tiredly and with pain. His body was so sore. He was just glad he could open his eyes. "I'm okay," he mumbled, trying to sit up.
"Sit down!" his friends shouted immediately, and he felt himself being pushed down by four or five people. There went that idea.
He closed his eyes, and opened them again, helping himself see more clearly. "Marco," said Dylan, the first to really speak to him. "Marco, I'm so glad you're okay. I was so worried," he laughed a bit, trying to hide how concerned he really was.
"Is there something under these sheets I don't want to see?" he asked, holding his hand over his side that was stinging slightly.
"Stitches," said Dylan, shaking his head. "I can't believe we let this happen to you.
Paige nodded in agreement. "Just because we couldn't be at his house…it all," she let her voice fade into a whisper, "happened."
"Corey's got bad aim," said Marco, rejoining the conversation. "I'll be okay."
Paige looked at him tearfully. "You are sitting in a hospital bed, Marco. I just…"
The situation came back clearly to Marco. He sat up quickly, ignoring the searing pain that went through his side. "How's my mom?"
Marco took that second to recognize who was in the room with him. Paige, Dylan, and Ellie had come, as he expected, and Craig and Ashley were there. His father wasn't in the room. Had he been told what happened?
"Well, I brought you your new phone," said Dylan, handing him the cell phone he bought him.
Marco rolled his eyes. He knew, if Dylan bought it, it had to be unnecessarily expensive. "Dylan…" he said slowly, seeing everyone's facial expressions.
Dylan looked away from him, so he raised his questioning eyes to the others. "What's going on?"
"You tell him, Ellie," Paige insisted, pushing her closer to Marco's bed.
Marco had a bad feeling about what she was about to tell him. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anymore. She kneeled down by his bedside, pushing him back to lie down again. "Marco, your mother is dead."
Marco blinked, staring at the wall behind her, uninterested in looking into her eyes. He'd never felt so horrible in his life. It was all his fault…all his fault.
He couldn't even cry; he honestly didn't know what to do at the time. "Marco?" said Ellie, pushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Where's my dad?" he asked, taking his eyes off the wall, turning to look at the ceiling instead.
"He came, saw you for a bit, heard the news, and…well, he said he'd be back," she said, feeling as though she wasn't the right one to be telling him any of this.
Marco covered his eyes with his hands, wishing it would become possible for him to will away the replaying scenes in his mind.
"I want you to leave," he whispered, trying to sound polite.
"Ma—Marco, I'm sorry," said Ellie, standing up.
"I meant all of you," he corrected, noticing that she seemed to think she was alone. "Just go, please."
His friends knew better than to argue. They all looked unhappy to leave, but they did so willingly, not saying another word. They looked guilty, and Dylan had said he felt it was their fault. He felt they had 'let it happen'.
They were so very not at fault; Marco was. He took complete blame, and what was worse was he had gotten his very own mother killed. The only good news was Corey had probably been arrested, and he wouldn't be touching him ever again.
Marco heard a knock at his door. He hoped it wasn't a nurse. "Come in," he said, swallowing difficultly as his lip began to tremble. He was going to cry.
When the door opened, Marco was presented with a terrible, sorrowful, version of his father in the room. "He—hey, dad," he said, letting the tears start to fall as soon as he saw the older man.
Mr. Del Rossi rushed over to his son's side. "Marco, what happened?" he asked. "That boy—he was your friend, right?"
Marco nodded, covering his face with his hands. He'd ruined everything, and he was so ashamed. He knew his bruises were showing, knew his father was probably wondering if it had happened all on this day, but he didn't care. He didn't even know what to say.
"Pa, I want…want to fix what I've done," he said, feeling more worn out than he'd ever had.
"Marco, you did nothing." For a man who'd lost his wife, he was quite all right. Marco assumed it was because he was trying to stay strong for his son. "You didn't know what he was capable of."
Marco watched as his father pulled up the chair from the other side of the room, bringing it over next to his bed. Marco took his hand immediately. "Dad, I did. I did because…I don't even know how to say this."
There was just so much. His father didn't know he was gay, didn't know he'd dated Corey, didn't know he was in love with Dylan, (though to be honest, he didn't really need to know that part) didn't know the things Corey had been doing to him, and he didn't know…that his mother knew. If he had known, would he have made an effort to come home earlier for Marco? Or maybe he would have avoided him out of hatred for who he was.
"I don't know where to start," he said, wiping his eyes. "Dad, I need you to promise…we lost mom, so we need to be with each other, no matter what, okay?"
"Okay," he said, squeezing his hand. "What is it?"
"There's quite a lot," he said, looking back at him. His father nodded for him to go on. "Corey was my—my abusive boyfriend, dad."
So, he figured he'd put it all down in one sentence. Abuse, boyfriend…and hopefully, his father could pick up on the fact that boyfriend meant not girl.
Marco closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the look on his father's face. "Why did he do this?" he asked. "Was he crazy?"
Marco shrugged. "Maybe," he said, defeated. "I don't know why I care about him!" he shouted suddenly, making his father wince.
"Marco, it's okay." He was surprised his father was being so understanding. Perhaps it was just because of the death.
"He killed mom. He killed her, dad, and I still care about him," he said. Marco had voiced it. He'd said aloud that his mother was dead. He wasn't sure if he could breathe right anymore.
"Why am I fine?" he asked. "Why.am.I.fine?" he asked angrily. "I just have a couple stitches!"
"Marco, relax," said his father, letting go of his hand. "The police said that Corey wasn't interested in hurting you. He just wanted to make you stop talking. That's why you're…" he paused, "why you're okay."
"He always says that," whispered Marco. "Dad, are my friends still here?"
"Yes," he replied, standing up. "You'd like me to get them?"
"Just send in Dylan, please."
Author's Note: Please review.