Chapter 9: Making Things Right

Hardly half an hour had passed between the time the portal opened with the intention of leaving, and when it opened with the intention of returning. Of course, I hadn't even known at the time that it wasn't making a trip back out with Marco in tow; I only thought then that Marco had just forgotten something. And when the portal did reopen, and the chariot came to its halting stop, and Marco exited it thereafter, his expression low, eyes not meeting back with Tom's. Tom himself quietly spoke a few words in a blue tone – words that, from my distance, I couldn't make out – nodded, then closed the door to his impressive chariot. The deep thud resonated before the flaming vortex to his home reopened, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone again, leaving Marco and I alone with the scorch that remained, the thick smell of smoke suffocating the air around us.

A few moments passed after Tom's departure, the air stagnant with that same smoky smell, Marco simply standing there, bag limply in his fingertips. The atmosphere around him was smoky as well, yes, but it also had an unmistakable stiffness and chill to it.

And although I was uneasy, I decided the best thing to do would be to try and cheer him up; seemed logical, right? I stepped over to him, giving my best smile. "So~ Marco," I started. "How'd everything go? Why're you back so early?" I asked in my bubbliest tone.

However, Marco didn't speak a word back to me, eyes still cast in the same direction where Tom's chariot once stood.

"Marco?" I frowned, then shook his shoulder a little. "Oh come on, Marco, don't be so down in the dumps. What happened?"

"Like you don't know," He responded swiftly, his voice low and shallow I could hardly hear it.

And honestly, I'd tried not to hear it. His voice was laced with such malice, such cold iciness, I couldn't imagine he'd ever speak to me like that. There was a pause of silence between us; I was torn on whether or not to continue this line of conversation, seeing the branching path out in front of me. "Wh…What do you mean, Marco?"

A thud. His bag slipped from his fingertips to the ground, the newly-freed hand balled up in a tight fist, shaking. His head turned just enough that I could see his deep-brown eye – where once, it was a liquid amber now hard like oak – and his sharp scowl. He stepped closer to me, then closer again, closer again, and I found myself backing up from his seething march. "Like you don't know what happened between me and Tom after you're the one who filled his head up with all that shit!"

I froze in my tracks, dumbstruck, his words like a slap to my face. He'd never spoken to me like that. Ever. "M-Marco…?"

"Like you don't know, Star. I heard you two arguing. I heard him yell. I heard you torturing him with your mind games, telling him he's bound to lose it one of these days. And even if I hadn't heard, I could tell. He didn't sound like himself, Star. He didn't sound like how he did when I talked to him – when… when it was just him and me, just… together, alone. He sounded so hopeful when I talked to him. 'Oh it's alright though; it'll get better.' That's the kind of stuff he said to me, before we came back to grab my stuff. And… And after? 'Oh, I can't do this Marco; I can't risk even the smallest chance that I might possibly ever hurt you.' Those are the words you fed him, Star! You made him believe that!" His voice began to rise, sharp and deadly like broken glass. "God… All I wanted was just… a nice, normal date and sleepover with him. Y'know, cuz he's been the only person to ever ask me out in my entire life! Nothing was even going wrong – even-even remotely going wrong until you messed everything up!" His voice wavered and cracked apart, torn open by his still-raging anger and sorrow, eyes beginning to prick with tears. "I was having the night of my life with someone who was super nice, and who really, really understood me. And that's gone now… The one person that actually finds something in me worth asking out, and he's gone. You ruined my date, Star; ruined my night. Who knows? Tom and I could've gone so far, and I could see it too. Like right away we clicked, just like that. I could've seen us going months together, just getting to know each-other. Who knows? It could've been that we'd just… never work out, and everything'd fizzle out in less than a week. But now I'll never know, because of you." He stood there a moment, the atmosphere thick with his tears, his heart in his throat that he was trying to swallow down. The whole situation had still yet to really just… hit me yet; the only thing that was getting through to me was Marco's anger and frustration and hurt. "I can't believe you, of all people, would ever try to do this to me, Star; and even if you didn't mean to hurt me, you definitely meant to hurt him. And that… that hurt me."

I looked over his tightened face, his teeth clenched together to bite back his tears. "Well, Marco… um…" I started, mind blank on what to say, but I had to say something. "It's not that bad, is -"

His eyes widened in an absolute fury. "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING, STAR! EVERYTHING!" He cried out, tears falling from his face – a sight and sound enough to make my heart stop in its tracks. "I can't believe you would think any of this is-is even remotely acceptable!" He quickly grabbed up his bag and pushed past me, heading for his room.

And I was still standing there, dumbfounded and frozen in place by shock. I finally blinked a few times, turned around, "Marco, w-wait…"

"JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" Slam. I hardly got a chance to breathe a word before the door was in my face. And I stood there, with the door in my face, mulling through what's transcended these past few hours. Was I… wrong about Tom? Even after everything he'd done to me? No, no, that couldn't be the case; only six measly months of work couldn't be enough to change him, and the ridiculous pace he was forcing on Marco clearly wasn't healthy or right.

I couldn't be in the wrong here.

But there I stood, still reeling from Marco's anger, his words cutting through me deep. Honestly, it was the only thing that cast a stone in this great sea of confidence I had was Marco himself. Despite knowing myself how Tom is, despite everything I've tried to tell him about Tom, he just doesn't listen. And with all of his stubbornness, I was beginning to have the sinking feeling that he had this skewed idea of who Tom was; after all, he's never dated a single person in his life. These suggestions of sleeping over, showing him around the town, it might seem just like a fairy tale, with Tom as his prince. But that was far from true. Or… was it? Maybe… Maybe I really was just wrong, and all of Marco's passion, all of his hope, all of their quick-paced and ridiculous plans… maybe they were… okay? It sounded ridiculous as I thought about it, but to Marco – Marco, who's never had a single person interested in him – maybe it seemed okay. Maybe the way Tom was – fast-paced, headstrong, and with all his wild abandon – maybe it seemed okay to him too. I know he was like that with me. Maybe in a weird way, it was okay to both of them, and they'd finally settle down. I only hoped they wouldn't continue on this quickly.

There I stood, still reeling from Marco's anger, still thinking deeply over what had transpired. And there I stood, and there I heard. I heard tears – Marco's tears, loud and miserable, lost and empty, wailing. And each sob tore little holes in my heart. No matter how ridiculous they were moving in such a short time, no matter how little I trusted Tom, I was the one who made it all go bad; I was the one who set Tom up to leave. No matter what they decided to do, it was… outlandish of me to make him so paranoid; at least that, I would own up to, and Marco's tears only reinforced that.

I had some major crap of mine to clean up, and I had to admit, I needed help.

"Hey, Fonzo and Ferg~! What's going on?"

I assume the two of them had been hanging out at Alfonzo's place, because both of them were present on the interdimensional mirror. "Yo, Star, what's up?" Ferguson waved, a smile on his face. "Where's Marco?"

I grimaced, rubbing the back of my neck. "Well, see… that's the thing… I…" I sighed, the sheer shame holding down my voice. "I really messed up here, guys."

Alfonzo knit his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I really messed up." Another sigh. "You know Tom?"

"The incubus dude?"

"Yeah, the – wait, he's not an incubus, jeez! He's just a demon." I huffed, hands on my hips. "But yeah, you both met him – the gray skin and the big chariot thing. Horns and all that."

"Yeah. The incubus dude."

Why he decided to insist Tom was somehow an incubus was beyond me; but then again, I suppose humans have very little idea that there's a difference in them at all. "Ugh! Whatever. Yeah, Tom. Well… I really messed up with him. I kinda… kinda made him go away."

"Go away?" Ferguson looked concerned. "How?"

"I insulted him a lot and now he left Marco… so now I need you guys' help."

"Wait… how does you making fun of this guy have to do with Tom leaving Marco?"

I groaned, not wanting to further myself into this hole of embarrassment and shame. "Okay, so, I don't know if you know this, but Tom has all sorts of anger problems, so I made him worry that he'd hurt Marco eventually with them, so he left Marco to kinda like… protect him? In a way? Ugh… either way, Marco's crying up in his room right now, and he really needs you guys' help right now."

Alfonzo quickly nodded, taking Ferguson's large arm to lead him out. "Okay man, we'll be there in like ten minutes okay? And what're you gonna do in the meantime?" Ferguson was blurting out in a choppy tone, trying to keep his phone's FaceTime in line with his face.

I looked down. Well, I had this whole plan in mind, but, would I truly be able to put it into motion? After all – and with all the actions I'd done to this point – I'd proven I was nothing but a coward; a coward holding on so desperately to a past that was long forgotten. How could I face Tom again? After so crudely shoving him off to a side, opening the exposed wound of his insecurities? I couldn't possibly go back up to him now, fess up that I'd done wrong, even though it was true that I did, in fact, do wrong. So much wrong. How could I confront him, and try to seem as genuine as I was, after saying what I did? I sighed, steeled my resolve, then gave a determined look to the mirror. "I'm gonna make things right."

I at least had the courtesy to wait for the two boys to arrive before I'd try to go off to confront Tom… again. They'd swarmed down the door, pushing around frantically, asking, "Where's Marco?! Where's our bro?!" And I calmly directed them to his door.

Ferguson knocked on the door – not pounding, but with a sense of haste. "Marco? Marco, bro, you okay?"

"We heard about what happened, man – let us in!"

And in that moment, the sobs quickly died down to an uncertain silence. And more silence, then more, the door acting as a cold barrier between us and his unknown condition; but the door slowly opened a crack, just enough to see one side his flushed face, a puffy eyelid, a bloodshot eye, dried tears down one cheek. That eye scanned over the three of us, and he sniffled. "Fine; but… but only Fonz and Ferg. Not you." He glared at me, his voice weak, but very much venomous.

And I didn't blame him; the picture was beginning to put itself together, and I, at least, could show the courtesy that I didn't harbor any resentment for his resentment of me. "I understand…" I said it an even tone, his eyes still eating into me, even after he let Ferguson and Alfonzo into his room, right up until he closed the door.

"Like," I could hear his battered voice, muffled behind the doorframe. "You guys must be thinking like 'oh, how stupid you're crying over a guy you met like three hours ago', but like… it's not like that.

"Bro, neither of us assumed that at all; I mean, it's heartbreak all the same, isn't it? It's gotta suck."

"He didn't even break my heart! He… It's almost like he broke his own. Like… I'm not even kidding when I say that tonight with him was… perfect; nothing went wrong. And it's that fact paired up with the fact that he just… dropped everything because of what Star did. Like, it all got nipped in the bud before we could even tell what it was gonna be – if it was gonna rot out or if it would've bloomed out beautiful. I guess… that's the loss I'm feeling right now. And it seems like I'm crying over like… 'oh, he was the one! And he got taken from me!' and I'm not, because… that's… that's childish, y'know? I'll admit, I'm a mess like this cuz he's… y'know, gone… but, it's not over any… overestimation of what he is, we were, or what we could've been. Like… y'know what I mean?" He asked in a tearstained voice.

"It's like a puppy dying before it gets to be a big mastiff."

"Fonz, no… I… I think I'd cry more over the puppy than any boyfriend. That… just made me feel worse…"

I decided to depart my ears from their eavesdropping, returning upstairs to quickly grab my dimensional scissors in my room. I snipped up a hole connecting Earth to Hell, and stepped through, immediately being faced with the dry, prickling heat – and, worse, the imposing, large black castle that was the Blood Moon Manor.

…I probably should've thought the plan through a little better; I couldn't get into the castle without permission, or sneaking in. So, what else would I do but decide on the latter! I searched around the parameter for any entrance into the building, be it an open window, a secret hatch, but ended up finding none. So it looked like I had to make one myself! I brandished my wand as it glowed in its ardent, confident beauty. "Fantastic giant marble doorway-fier!" I shouted, blasting the shimmering beam at the obsidian wall, creating a marble doorway in its place. When I entered, I found myself having made the door in conjunction to… just an average-looking hallway. It had been several months since I'd last been in Tom's home, so I wasn't very familiar with it anymore; that, and it was a four-story castle, so it was large and expansive, and… easy to get lost in! Admittedly, some of the hellish servants gave me a perplexed look, seeing as how they hadn't seen me in so long. Either way, in a cordial tone, I asked one of them, "Where's… Prince Tom? I'd like to have a word with him."

"Ah, Princess Butterfly," The servant said curtly. "Prince Tom isn't taking guests right now; he's been in a bad way since he got home."

"Oh, pee-shaw, good sir! I can handle him; I mean after all, he is my ex-boyfriend."

The servant looked to me, and I tried my biggest smile with the cutest puppy-dog eyes I could. He sighed. "Okay, fine. But only because you said you could – and, you didn't get permission from me, okay?"

I gave an eager giggle. "Yessir!" Nodded, and followed along hastily as he lead me down the long, long, velvety hallway. But soon, this velvety hallway led to a door marked 'Authorized Personnel Only Please', and past that door was now… only average hallways with less stellar, but still ornate, decorations.

And as we approached, I began to hear the thick, resonating sound, abrupt and destructive, and it only grew louder and more furious as I approached. As we approached, the hallways grew… almost dauntingly dark, the candelabras meant to light the way having been snuffed out and thrown aside, scattered alongside books, shattered busts, other decorations that were once beautiful, now indecipherable and destroyed. And, as we approached, I couldn't help notice the servant becoming increasingly tense.

It was then I could make out the growling – no, snarling. The snarling and gnashing, the tearing.

"H-Here he is, ma'am." The servant stuttered out, arm shaky as he showed me to Tom's bedroom. Under the scars and rakes, chips, the door was a lie; the destroyed woodwork revealed not to be a prim and intricate door fit for a prince, but rather, a beaten up and heavy iron door fit for a prisoner, hidden under the guise of poise and beauty.

"This… is Tom's room?" And, honestly, I was baffled; of course, I'd been to Tom's room a few months, but… never had it looked this… disheveled.

I couldn't deny the snarls I heard from behind the door, the guttural shrieks, that shook the skin around the servant's bones. "Hi-His room for now, m-ma'am. Now, I'm afraid I have to leave! And-And again…! You didn't hear it from me!" And before I even had a chance to speak up, the servant was down the hallway, turning the corner, then… gone.

…There was obviously a sense of deep trepidation in me as the large, wood-and-steel door loomed over me, the muffled cries behind it enough to make me want to turn and run, just as the servant did before.

But, by then, I was well aware of what and who I was responsible for; I was responsible for both Marco and Tom now, both of their frustrations and sadness. So, not without a thick gulp and an attempt to steel my nerves, I slowly pushed open the door, my wand in hand.

I was met with a bellowing cry, a snarl, a mess of red eyes, the flame of red hair, the tips of his claws, the sharp, heavy clanks of his restraints.

I saw Tom there, feral, chained against the far wall like an animal, fighting against the restraints that kept him from lunging at my throat. I approached him slowly as he continued to fight futilely, his three blood-red eyes focused on me, his anger focused on me. He screeched again and tried to fight against the steel cuffs that bound him by chain to the wall.

"Tom…?" I started, stopping a good distance before him.

As he pulled against the weight of his restraints, his deep scowl began to twitch at the edge of his lips, then eventually faded along with his growls. He paused briefly, the fire in his hair turned back to strands, his breath evened, his tense limbs began to relax; claws retracted back to fingernails. He embraced his forehead and gave a light groan, and as his eyes opened, they were his again, irises and all. They were tired, along with every fiber of his body – exhausted, really; burnt out by his own infuriation.

These three worn eyes finally looked up to me, and he asked in an equally-worn voice, "Star…?" They finally focused on my form. "How long have… you been there?" He squinted, tried to move a few steps towards me. "Why am I –" A clink. As he reached a hand towards me, the chains tensed and restricted him any further. He looked to that hand then, looked at it quite a long time, his eyes following the shackles that lead to the chains that bolted to the wall. "Oh… I see." He responded in a tone washed of all emotion. He looked down, then back up to me, gave a pathetic chuckle. "Well… it, uh… it happened. Everything I didn't want, I guess; I don't… really know what happened. And I guess that's the bad part." He stepped back a few paces, allowing himself to sit down against the wall, humbly accepting this… prison of his. "I didn't expect myself to; after all, I… lost control." Another weak laugh. "Again, right?"

"Tom…" I started again, holes punching into my heart at the display. "I'm so sorry…"

"No, Star; I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I ever thought that… I'd be anything more than this." He motioned to the room around him – torn wallpaper, charred ground, "I'm guessing it's worse outside; I… stopped remembering right when I left my room; I imagine it's all gone to shit from there to here." He folded his hands into his lap. "Six months of work… All for…" A sigh, long and disappointed. "And you're probably just, like, thinking, 'oh, he's just some kid I just met', but… it's so weird that it's not like that. I'm surprised I freaked out this bad over a kid and some ruined date; I have those, all the time, without me having to break it off. I've had so many other flings here and there and… this wasn't like any of them. They were all jokes before, either arranged or… they were using me – or both. Both happened sometimes too. But here's this… this human. This unassuming human, that I just treated to the first date of his life, first kiss of his life… and I just… really liked him. And maybe I went too fast with the whole 'meeting my parents' thing, but we'd come down to eat here, and then I wanted to show him the garden arrangement Dad had made, and… it all just snowballed from there – because I genuinely liked him, and we were both okay with it, too. And out of all the people I've ever dated, ever… he's really the only one that looked at me and talked to me for me. Everyone else was occupied by the royalty thing, or the half-breed issue – if they knew about it – or… or this." He raised his restrained arms with a sad expression. "Never enough talk about this; and I admit, Marco did… bring it up a few times, but he didn't go ahead and let it dominate what he thought of me, like most people; he actually… actually focused on the recovery I was trying to make – the effort – rather than… than the destruction. Even when I went ahead and told him everything about it – and by then, I was comfortable telling him about it – he didn't make me feel like… like I was wrong to be angry, or like I was a freak. The people I dated before, oh, they couldn't get enough of the anger thing, checking on me every five minutes asking 'You sure you're not angry?' And every time something peeved me in the slightest, it was always, 'Are you… angry? Should I be afraid?' Like how dare I ever feel like this." His words jabbed at me then; only a few hours ago at the Blood Moon Ball did I ask him that same question. "But Marco… he made me feel normal for once. Like, the time we spent going to and from place to place, we just talked about the stupidest shit; we talked about rocks. It was so easy to talk to him, like, we vibed off each-other immediately, and it felt so natural; he didn't linger on the heavy stuff for too long, because he genuinely cared about my comfort for once, instead of everyone policing me every five fucking seconds 'Are you angry? Are you angry?' And we were able to talk about heavy stuff when it came to mind, without him being like everyone else. It's like I've known him a long time, but… I also knew I didn't know anything about him, and I really wanted to learn more, and I guess that's where the sleepover came in. And him being… being really cute was just an added bonus, I guess. I really could… see myself going far with him. Even as just, like, friends, if nothing else would work out between us. Though, I guess, leaving things as they were was… for the best." Tom looked up to me with a fractured expression. "You were right, Star."

"No, I'm not!" I shouted, almost immediately in response to him. "I was never right, Tom! I… I said all those things so you would get away from Marco! I was being possessive and… and unforgiving and stupid!"

He gave another weak laugh. "Stupid? After what I did to you? Star, you can't tell me our last little confrontation didn't… leave something behind all those months ago?" I grimaced, pulled up my shirt slightly. And indeed, there were discolored marks on my torso, scars from the cuts he himself had given me months before. "I didn't… protect you enough from me, Star; told myself everything would be fine between us… till we started fighting. And I still didn't cut us off until… until I figured out just how… little self-control I had in the end. He took a long look at the patchy skin, once flawless. "And now you'll always have that… because of me. I can't bear the risk of doing that to Marco, and you were right; six months isn't enough time for progress, as you can clearly see. This could've all happened to him."

I gave a loud groan, threw my arms up in the air. "But you just don't get it, Tom! This never would've happened if I wasn't holding on to the past! And you've done nothing but be good and try to look to the future, and I've just been… been a butt. I've been the biggest butt imaginable! Marco is, like, the last person you'd get into an argument with, and you already said you liked him a lot and vibed off him and wanted to take him for a cute, getting-to-know-you sleepover! Which is super cute! Look, I want to give you two a second chance." I offered gingerly.

He scoffed. "A second chance? Star, I don't… think I should have a second chance. Look at me! I couldn't… couldn't keep myself calm enough not to lose control after all this grief and anger at… nothing in particular. Six months didn't do… jack shit for me in the end."

I looked over him – over his form. He was… defeated, his head hung low, eyes downcast. He really didn't have… any resolve left in him. And it was all because of me. "Look, Tom, I'll bring you back to yourself, okay? I may have jiggled you out of yourself, but I'm gonna put you back!"

His expression didn't change. "I mean, you could try, by all means, but… I've pretty much made up my mind."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "We'll see about that."

And as I turned and exited, I snipped a portal to the Earth's surface. More specifically, to Marco's room. His two best friends were snuggled close to him as they watched some stupid YouTube videos from Ferguson's iPad, hoping to cheer Marco up in the darkness, only illuminated by the screen and their scattered laughter. They didn't speak a word to each-other, and frankly, I don't think they needed to; they were simply enjoying each-other's company quietly, finding victory in Marco's smiles.

But it all dissipated as I entered the room; Marco paused their video, and his smile slowly faded, replaced with bitterness in his scowl. "Star," He greeted sourly. "What do you want?"

"I wanna show you something." I answered as innocuously as possible.

"I don't wanna see something you have to offer; if it's an apology, I don't forgive you – not yet."

I flinched at the intensity of his words, but I didn't relent. "Please, Marco; it isn't about my apology to you, but you have to see it." I begged. "Please."

He looked between his two friends, both returning a sympathetic look. "Do whatever you feel you wanna do bro; we'll be rooting for you either way."

And after looking to Alfonzo, he sighed, then finally nodded. "Okay, Star, fine. I'll go with you. But don't expect me to forgive you over it, okay? Where are we gonna go?"

I motioned to the newly-cut portal. "Through there."

He gave me a wavering look, but soon after I entered the portal, he followed, pulling his crimson hood over his head in the sudden light of Tom's… makeshift room. He froze at the sight around him – the torn-up walls, broken glass – but I knew what truly iced his feet to the floor, despite the heat of Hell: it was Tom, chains loosely strewn on the ground as his back was to the wall, allowing some fluidity and freedom to his arms and legs. He gave a soft, weak smile from across the room as he saw his old date enter. "Hey, Marco… How're you doing?"

"Tom…?" Marco looked to him in a quiet shock, quickly moving over to kneel by him, looking over his chains in disbelief. "What in the – Why… Why did they do this to you?"

"Well, I am a danger to myself and others, and… y'know, I already told you what kind of thin ice I'm on. So… going to a health clinic isn't an option. So they just hole me up in a different room – away from all of the public, of course – till I calm down. It's just the way it goes."

"But… But they're treating you like a monster… This isn't right… How could they just…" He looked to Tom's resigned expression with a worse shock than he gave the situation itself. "They couldn't do anything else?"

Tom shook his head. "Not with the circumstances I'm given." He looked up to him and pet his cheek reassuringly. "Marco, don't worry about it; I'm okay now, so… I'll be out soon."

"That's not what I'm upset about! You're missing the point! The fact that they lock you up in here like a prisoner and pretend you don't exist till you… you 'behave like you're supposed to' – it's utter bull! It's just… It's just not right! They're just… trying to pretend this isn't real, and it isn't fair."

He gave a deep sigh, then looked past Marco to me. "Star, what was the point of this?"

I looked to Marco, his expression a mix of deep concern, and sheer fury. "Well, can't you tell? Look at him, Tom! He cares so much about you. Now look, I know I messed up and gave you those stupid ideas in your head, but look! Nothing about your feelings for each-other've changed! And I know you're gonna be all 'but I lost control! Blah-BLAH! I'm a DANGER!' But really, that was all me! And I'm so, so, so sorry for that, but really! You're ten-times better than that! Come on! Give him a chance! Doesn't he at least deserve one?"

Tom looked to Marco, who gave a small smile in exchange. "And you kinda… do owe me dessert." He added.

"Oh yeah…" Tom gave a chuckle in response. "I do, don't I…" He heaved a deep sigh of consideration, looking at his shackles, then to Marco. "But do you really want to have to deal with me? With… this?"

"Yes." Marco answered almost immediately, his expression unwavering.

And Tom was stunned at this, though his tiredness bogged down the severity of his astonishment. "Well… okay then." And in part, I knew he caved so quickly because he did want to give their relationship another chance, and Marco's unshakable resolve just gave him all the less reason to fear himself. "Just, um… Go get my mom and dad, and when they see I've calmed down, they'll let me out, okay?"

I nodded, then looked to Marco. "You can stay here with him, okay? I'll go get his parents."

When he quickly agreed, I went to find the throne room, remembering it from the months ago when I'd visited them the first time. I only wondered how it would go over; after all, his mother was an imposing man, with sharp features and an always-sharp expression. His father seemed to be a little easier to talk to, his demeanor cooler, but he was hardly ever far from his husband.

And when they bid me enter was no different. He was sitting in the larger throne, pose relaxed, his hooves dangling over the side by his husband, who occasionally shooed them away when they got too close to his face. Now, Tom's father was devil; what this meant was that he was red. Very, very, very red. He was always dressed more casually than Tom's mother, and I really do think it reflected his view of royalty pretty well. I don't think I've ever seen him in anything fancier than a button-down, and he always wore shorts, since jeans could never compensate for his thrice-jointed legs, especially not the hooves at the bottom. That's probably also why he never wore shoes. His eyes were perpetually yellow, though they seemed more golden when he was happy and smiling, and almost looked metallic in his very rare occurrences of anger; his hair would catch aflame in times like this too. His red horns jutted out of the top of his forehead like lightning bolts; he got stuck in doors very often because of these few additional inches to his already-tall frame.

Both of Tom's mothers are demons, and because of this, Tom had more similarities with his stepmother than with his biological father. It's funny to me how little physical similarities he shared with him, though he was very akin to him in other places. But, like Tom, his mother's horns protruded from the sides of his head, and were bare bone, rather than from the front of his forehead and swathed in red skin, like his father's. He also had the gray skin, sharp teeth, and three eyes, though they were black instead of Tom's red. And after marrying Tom's father, the story goes that he was so disgusted with the casual way Anders took to the whole royalty-business that Obelus worked twice as hard to be more regal and royal, just to pick up the slack. That's apparently why he'll always wear the traditional, long, flowing robes with the intricate designs, why he always holds himself so majestically. I guess one of the only things Tom shared with his dad physically was his hands; Obelus's hands were knobbed, with long, tipped claws that was very unlike his regality, though, genetically, it was an inevitability; Tom had, I guess, 'normal' hands, like his father did. That, and his ears; while a devil's ears appeared to be more cow-like, a demon's looked like elves, and didn't have the ability to move up and down like a devil's does. I guess Tom only got the really subtle details from his dad. The only things his first mother had claim to were his red eyes, his pointed nose, and the Blood Moon crest, which were the markings on his eyes. I'm not sure if they're genetic, or if they're tattoos bestowed unto him at a certain age, but his forefathers all had them.

Obelus did not, but it didn't matter anyway; his cold, black eyes pierced through me as he saw me approach them from the long hall to the throne. Anders finally readjusted his position to… try to be regal, though he didn't pull it off at all. "Greetings, Star Butterfly," Obelus spoke in his usual upturned tone, his three eyes seeming to judge me negatively no matter what I tried to do.

"Um… hey guys!" I greeted as best as I could, silently cursing myself that I could never ever really pull off the whole 'formal' thing. It sounds lot better and appropriate in my head, and as I narrate, but the words always come out a mess of casualty as I speak.

"You're here to tell me that you've reclaimed Tom to the seat of royalty, rather than that human pup, yes?"

I gave my best smile, though my eyes told a much more nervous story. "…No…? I'm here to ask you to let him out, cuz he's… y'know, a lot better now and not… trying to destroy things anymore."

"For now." He added in a tone no more amused.

"For a while! I hope! Look, I know he's gonna get better! And on top of that, you can't just keep him in there, especially now that he's back to normal."

"I understand that; but if it is your intention to have him continue a relationship with that human, I'll have to ask you two to leave before I release him."

I scoffed, utterly shocked by his words. "WHAT?! You can't be serious!"

Anders took his husband's arm. "Hey, babe, just… go easy on the kids, okay? Let the kid date who he wants to date, and let him out of the room, okay? Or you can be Mr. Pouty-Wowty and I'll go let him out myself."

"Don't you dare degrade me with such nicknames…" He spat out, venom in his tone.

But Anders took his husband's cheeks between his fingers and squished them. "Mr. Pouty-Wowty~ Oh, you look so upset." He babbled in a babying tone. "So upset, Mr. Pouty-Wowty."

Obelus gripped Anders's hand and pulled it away. "Just let the boy out."

"Alright then; that's what I like to hear. Now c'mon, Star, come with me." He rose, stretched, his ears twitching a bit.

I followed Tom's dad from the throne room back to the restricted area. "Thank you, Your Highness, for that… back there."

"Oh, it's no problem, kid; you usually just gotta annoy him enough that he stops bothering you. I'm just sorry he always gets away with saying all this shit around you kids; it isn't fair; he doesn't wanna let Tom just be a kid for a while, y'know? And Tommy seemed so excited when he talked about that Marco kid. And I don't think he meant it like 'oh, he's the one, Daddy! He's the one!' but, I have to say, Marco's the first one he's dated from his own decision in… a long while. Not even you were a decision of his own."

I looked down. "Yeah, I figured; when Mom and Dad just let me meet him one day… I knew it was all prepared."

A beat.

"So… why do you let Obelus do what he wants all the time?"

"Because, well… I wasn't from royalty myself, kid. Tom's mom was; she married a peasant. And when she died, I had no idea how to run this kingdom at all. So… Obelus married me to try and take the reigns back; after all, he was who Tom's mother was supposed to marry in the first place, but she shot him down."

"I can see why…"

"So it's kinda funny that this all happened. But I bear no ill-will; in fact, I really do love him, and he loves me. And he loves Tom too; he really does. He just… wants to restore the traditional system and have Tom marry a demon in another kingdom. But… since he's a… a 'hybrid', as I like to call it – nicer way to call it – he hasn't had many demons knocking on our doors." His Highness looked down, gave a sigh. "So he's just settled to just have Tom marry into royalty, since he's already fucked up in the genetic department, though he does still try to get him hooked up with a demon girl every now and then."

I grimaced. "Oooh… that's… nice?"

"Well, it's bittersweet to say the least; that's why I'm hoping Tom's gonna marry someone he loves, like his mother did. It turned out a lot better for her." He had finished saying as he opened the door to Tom's temporary holding. His eyes melted to that liquid gold. "…Hey, kiddo."

"Hey, Dad." Tom greeted, his voice having gained a little more energy now with Marco there, sitting next to him.

"You ruined your suit."

"I did. I… did. Sorry about that."

He kneeled down by his son, taking a key from his pocket and undoing the shackles that bound his ankles. "It's okay, Tom." He reassured in a wavering voice. "I'm sorry I end up doing this to you all the time; I hate… seeing you like this, y'know? You're not… You're not a monster… You're my baby boy…" He bit down on his lip, trying to fight back the tears. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he felt, having to stand on the other end of Tom's rage, having to chain down his own son, having to treat him like the prisoner he knew Tom wasn't. It must've eaten away at him, and certainly the sight of a torn-up room with his son in the center was a sight to behold.

Tom sighed, wiped a stray tear from his father's eye. "Don't cry, Dad." He gave him his best reassuring smile. "You just did what you had to do, y'know? And it's over now, so… I'll be okay."

He nodded as he undid the last of Tom's chains, immediately holding him in a tight embrace thereafter. "Just promise me you'll be good…"

"I promise, Daddy. I promise."

King Anders sniffled, then nodded, letting go of Tom finally. "Is Marco still staying over tonight?"

Tom looked over to Marco, who shrugged. "I'd still need to go back and get my stuff… but… sure, yeah."

"I guess he's staying over." Tom confirmed.

"Alright." He let out a deep breath to expel the tears in his voice. "I'll set up a bed for you, alright? In the meanwhile, Tom, go get changed."

"Oh yeah, I was planning on it." Tom held up his arm, whose sleeve was now ribbons. "Planning. On it."

I looked to Marco, not wanting to touch him in any way as I usually would, since I still wasn't sure if he was okay with me, currently. "Here, then we'll go back to your place, Marco, and come back when we get your stuff."

He helped Tom up from his spot, smiling at him warmly. "Alright, let's go. Tom, I'll meet back up with you in a second, okay?"

"Sounds fair enough." He stretched, smiling back at him.

"Oh, and Tom –" I started, grabbing his attention. "Just… slow it down a little, okay?"

He looked perplexed. "So… no sleepover?"

"No, that's fine, but… everything after. Just… dial the pace back a little."

"Can and will do." He nodded, leaving the razed room with his father, as meanwhile we left through the portal.

…I felt I didn't have the right to apologize anymore, no matter how sorry I still felt. And as we returned, silence grew between us as the situation finally cooled down, filling the room with a stagnant and empty air. "Star…" Marco started.

I could faintly hear Alfonzo in particular talking downstairs with Marco's dad about Grey's Anatomy. "Yeah?" I asked, a brace in my voice. I was all prepared for him to scream at me again.

But as his gaze finally met mine, his expression was soft. "Thanks for realizing you were stupid. I know you were just trying to protect me, but… thanks for realizing that was a stupid way to do it."

"Yeah… I mean, thank you for making me understand that. And I hope things go nice between you and Tom; he really is a nice guy."

He gave a quick grin. "After all the times you called him a jerk?"

"Well he's nice to you! Oh psht! Go-Go get your stuff!" I pushed him onto his bed, then quickly went to snatch up his bag before him, "Catch!" Then tossed it onto the bed with him.

"Hey –!" He grabbed onto it quickly. "Oh, what was the point of that!?"

I cut a portal to a different point in Tom's house. "Just to mess with ya. Here, you go have fun now; I'll tell Alfonzo and Ferguson what happened, okay?"

"It's like you're trying to chase me out now, jeez!" He gave a small laugh. "But… tell them 'thanks', okay? For being the best bros a guy could have." He put a foot through the portal. "And also that Ferguson left his iPad in my room, and I really don't want him to lose it."

"I'll just bring it to him."

"And Star… I forgive you, okay? Just don't do this again, okay?"

I gave a deep sigh, his words relieving me of about twenty pounds of stress, my hands clasped over my chest. "Thank you, Marco."

"Oh, come here." He stepped towards me and gave me a tight hug, rocked me a little. "You're welcome."

"Just… take care, okay? Have fun, get to know him."

"I will, I will. I promise I'll be safe, okay? Bye for now, Star." He finally stepped through the portal, and it closed after him.

A smile came onto my face. "…Bye, Marco!"