A/N: Thank you to everyone who's taken the time to review! I highly appreciate it.

Also thanks to Serenity for her help getting me unstuck and the chapter moving again.

This section may seem to have some OOCness about it. Just trust me. Mwah hahahaha. Erm...yeah.

Oct 29th 12:30 am

For a few moments I could only stare at my best friend's body, unable to believe that he was really…he was…I blinked.

He was alive!

I let out the breath I'd been holding as I noticed the overly shallow rising and falling of his chest. I scrambled forward, reaching him quickly, but hesitant to touch him, unsure how badly he was hurt. I took a few moments to assess the situation.

His clothing was savagely torn and bloodied; if it weren't for the atrocity about his neck, the way his wrists were bound or the cloth that had been shoved into his mouth, it would be easy to believe he'd been mauled by a wild animal.

My stomach roiled as I tried to decide how to help him first. Though I wanted to go straight for the noose, I realized that the gag was probably currently the most crucial as it was what was currently obstructing his breathing. His lips had a strange almost bluish tint to them. I tried to tell myself that I was imagining it because of the shadows, but I knew better. I also knew I should probably call the police and an ambulance, but I didn't want to take the time to do it while he was still bound as he was. How long had he been lying out there struggling to breathe?

I reached forward to release the gag, but was startled as his arms raised in defense…at least as much as his bound state allowed. His eyes flew open and he stared up at me, his eyes bloodshot and glittering with fear.

"Marco…it's okay. It's just me," I whispered, my voice not yet recovered from my own shock.

I watched as recognition set in and he slowly relaxed, reorienting himself to his surroundings. When he calmed enough I carefully reached forward again and eased the offensive cloth from his mouth. He immediately began coughing as he began getting his first full breaths in gods only knew how long. Between the wracking coughs he made small pained noises and he rolled onto his side, curling his body protectively.

I clenched my jaw, trying to calm the growing fury at whoever had done this to him. I moved closer again and with a far more gentle effort than I wanted to use, I slipped the noose off over his head, and flung it away. Forcing my anger back and focusing more on my concern, I inched closer again. "Marco?" I asked softly, placing my hand comfortingly on his back. He flinched hard, but relaxed quickly even when I didn't pull back. I rubbed his back soothingly until his breathing returned to almost normal.

"I'm okay," he rasped, sounding far from it. He looked over his shoulder at me and I winced as I noticed the blood dried at the corners of his mouth. He'd definitely been out here for a while.

"Can you sit up?"

He nodded slightly, and after a few moments began to make the effort. I tentatively moved to help him, and was relieved when he accepted, leaning heavily against me as he tried to gather his balance. After he was settled, he raised his wrists a little, looking at me imploringly. I smiled slightly and began working on freeing him the rest of the way, grimacing as I noticed his bruised and bloodied hands, several fingernails torn. It was only slightly satisfying realizing that whatever had happened, Marco had not gone down without a fight.

As I worked on the knots, I glanced up at him questioningly, hoping he'd offer an explanation about what had happened. Instead, he quickly looked away, avoiding my gaze. I frowned, not understanding his apparent humiliation. It wasn't like him to not talk to me…unless it was something he couldn't face. I wanted to ask what happened, but was inexplicably afraid to do so.

In my heart I was afraid I already knew.

Frank had done this.

I let Marco remain silent until I freed his hands, but I knew I couldn't let this go. "Marco…" I hesitated, trying to figure out how to breach the subject. Part of me wanted to shake him, and yell at him, angry that his silence was protecting his 'boyfriend'. But mostly I was just plain scared for him. Frank had nearly killed him, and if the way he was acting was any indication, he wasn't going to do anything about it. He was just going to clam up and hide, pretending it didn't happen. Or maybe that it didn't matter.

And why wouldn't he think that? I thought guiltily. He'd been dating the guy for how long and probably all that time he was being hurt and I totally missed it. Some best friend, huh? I'd let myself get wrapped up in Karl…I cringed realizing that the attack on Karl had been a couple hours ago, which probably meant Marco had been out here at least that long unable to draw in a full breath.

I moved to retrieve my dropped cell phone, but before I could dial Marco quickly reached out and snatched it from me. I gaped at him for a moment, startled, but then the anger started seeping in again. Especially when I saw the fearful glimmer beneath the pleading look he gave me. I knew I shouldn't be mad at him, that this wasn't his fault, but I couldn't help it. "You can't be serious. We are calling the police. You have to report this, Marco. You have to tell the police what happened."

His eyes widened, and I winced as I saw the fear growing more intense. He shook his head insistently. "Ellie, I…can't."

"Why not?" I snapped before I could rein in my fury. It wasn't Marco I was mad at, I reminded myself. It was the asshole that did this to him, and who Marco was actually going to protect! I calmed immediately as Marco looked away from me again, his words so quiet I wouldn't have realized he was talking except that his lips were moving. "What?" I asked, a lot gentler.

He looked back toward me, his eyes still lowered submissively. "Because they'd never believe me," he repeated quietly, clearly upset by this admission.

I sighed and shook my head a little, offering him a little encouraging smile. "It's okay, Marco, they'll believe you. It happens…"

Marco's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as they finally met mine. "What happens?" he asked confusion apparent in his expression.

I hesitated for a moment, suddenly doubting my conviction about Frank. What if I was wrong? I wasn't. I was almost sure I wasn't. But what if? Marco might get even more upset if I accuse Frank and am wrong. So…"Tell me what happened," I suggested softly.

He looked away again, shaking his head. I wasn't sure, but I thought I heard the words, "I can't," coming from him again. Words that just didn't belong coming from my best friend.

"Sure you can," I assured him, as I rose to my feet, reaching down to help him up. Something told me that if I could get him to start talking, this was going to be a long conversation. We may as well be comfortable.

He looked up at me, hesitating for a few moments before accepting my hand up. We headed back to my house, silent save for the pained hitches in Marco's breathing. I slowed my pace to match Marco's and watched him over-protectively until we reached my house. If not the police, I should call for a doctor. An idea he immediately shot down the moment I mentioned it.

"I'm fine," he insisted tersely, once again avoiding my eyes. "I just…need to clean up."

While he showered, I headed to the kitchen and made some tea hoping that it would help calm him enough to talk to me.

By the tea had completely cooled, and he still hadn't emerge from the bathroom, I was pretty worried. I wanted to let him have some privacy, but what if he was more hurt than what he'd seemed? What if he passed out or something in there? I headed back to knock on the door, but hesitated when I heard his almost hiccupping breath as he babbled on the other side of the door. I couldn't catch what he was saying exactly, but could hear the panic in his tone and could tell that he was pacing the small room nervously. I knocked lightly. "Marco?" I asked softly.

After a moment he repeated his earlier claim of "I'm f-fine." I sighed, hearing how incredibly false his words were.

"No. You're not," I replied bluntly, knowing I was going to have to take control of the situation whether he wanted it or not. "Can I come in?" When he didn't answer I took a deep breath and announced, "I'm coming in." I gave him a few moments to be sure he was 'decent' before I made good on the announcement and pushed my way into the bathroom. He stopped his nervous pacing and gazed at me with a helpless expression. Though he wasn't avoiding my eyes anymore, he still looked so hurt and…lost.

"What am I going to do, El?" he asked softly as he wrapped his arms across his chest. I flinched as his movement revealed the deep bruising that peeked up from the towel that was wrapped around his waist.

"Marco, I really think you need to tell the pol--" he was already shaking his head and the glimmer of fear returned to his eyes. Reluctantly I gave in. "Okay, but you need to tell me what happened…okay?"

He looked like he wanted to protest, but then slowly nodded, his shoulders slumping slightly. He closed his eyes. "Promise me you won't…tell anyone."

I scowled, knowing he wouldn't see it. There was no way I'd promise that. If Frank was hurting him, there was no way I'd stay silent about it. "Marco…"

"Please, El…I…" he looked back at me with the pleading expression that I just can't imagine anyone being able to say no to, but much as I wanted to give in, I couldn't promise that.

"I won't let you keep getting hurt," I remained firm on this point, feeling guilty even though I knew I was right about doing so. He shook his head and looked away from me again, his lips pursed and a stubborn look on his face that told me that he wasn't going to tell me anything unless I promised. I relented a little. "Tell me what happened and I promise I'll do everything I can to help. But Marco, if we can't figure out a way to keep this from happening again, I can't just do nothing."

He looked at me again and for a moment I was afraid he'd stay tight-lipped. But then he took a breath and nodded slowly. He leaned back against the cabinet and folded his arms across his chest, his eyes focused on something apparently fascinating about the floor behind me. I wanted to let him take his time, but after a couple minutes of his continued silence, I was starting to get impatient. Just as I was about to start prodding him again, though, he finally spoke.

"I think I'm going crazy," he said, his voice raw with fear and I could see the glimmer of humiliation in his eyes as he peeked up at me.

"Marco, just tell me what happened," I cajoled. "Who did this to you? Whatever happened, you can tell me."

He continued to meet my eyes for only a moment longer before his gaze lowered again. I noticed his hands clenching and unclenching as he seemed to struggle with himself for a couple more minutes before speaking again. "That's the problem," he finally replied. "I don't know. I-I didn't see…him. Them? I…I don't know what happened." He looked toward me again, but his eyes were clearly focused on something above me.

I stared at him for a few moments, trying to decide if I should push him or not. It was obvious that he knew more than what he was telling me. And he couldn't meet my eyes, which made it quite apparent that he was lying to me. I wanted to shake him. Didn't he realize how serious this was? Why would he protect someone that would do this to him?

I quietly reminded myself to stop jumping to conclusions. Even if they were the right ones. Okay, fine, so I don't know for sure who did this, but I can make a few pretty good guesses. Starting, of course, with his asshole of a boyfriend. I forced the scowl from my face. There wasn't a whole lot I could do as long as Marco denied it. So I needed to push. "You didn't see him? That's what you said, right? So how do you know that your attacker was male then?" I asked, acting suspicious. I'd try anything that would just get him to admit to what really happened out there.

I felt only slightly guilty as I saw unshed tears in his eyes as he shook his head. "I-I don't know. I couldn't see him. It. I don't know. But…whatever it was…it was strong." He looked away long enough to swipe the tears away from his eyes, clearly distressed that he was doing so in front of me. I wanted to back off and just assure him that everything was okay. But it wasn't. And it wouldn't be until he admitted that there was a problem. So I hung back and waited for him to continue. "I-I couldn't fight when he grabbed me. I tried, but…I even think I hit something a few times, but I couldn't see anything." His voice was wavering uncontrollably. "I couldn't feel him hitting me, but there was nobody there." His mouth suddenly snapped shut and he looked over at me, his eyes wide. He had to realize how…okay yes, insane, as he put it before, that sounded. He must have been able to see the doubt clearly written on my face because he gave me a wintery smile and shook his head. "Maybe…maybe I did it to myself?" he suggested weakly. Sure, because everyone can totally beat themselves up and tie their own hands so tightly they can't move. He looked away from me again, looking sufficiently ashamed. Another sign he was lying to me. "Told you…crazy, huh?" he mumbled, abashed.

It would be…if I really believed what he was telling me. I still thought that he was protecting Frank. But it was clear that he wasn't going to tell me much more about it tonight. And it was even more obvious that he really just needed me to be there for him. I sighed and moved closer to him.

"Marco, it's okay," I assured. I brushed the hair lightly away from his face, trying not to let my reaction show as I got a clearer look at the bruise that was developing around his eye. He'd done it to himself? I'd never believe that in a million years. I pulled him gently into a hug. He tensed for a moment, but then relaxed against me, resting his head on my shoulder. "You can stay here tonight, and we'll figure something out in the morning," I added gently.

"Thanks...I don't want to be alone," he admitted quietly.

I could feel him shaking slightly and started to rub his back soothingly, but stopped immediately when I heard him suck in a pained breath. I peeked down and almost cried out as I saw the extent of the damage that had been inflicted on him. I blinked to stop my eyes from watering as I felt my heart aching for him. Why would anyone ever hurt Marco like this? Not that anyone deserved it, but especially not someone as sweet and gentle…I felt my jaw clenching as my mind tried to wrap around the fact that his boyfriend of all people had treated him so callously. And that I'd let it happen. I should probably insist on him going to the hospital, but I know they'd ask too many questions that he wasn't ready to answer. But he wasn't going to leave my sight. Not tonight. Not when there was a crazy psycho out there somewhere waiting…probably still watching the house. Not that I was scared or anything. Because I wasn't. I was just worried about Marco. And I refused to admit there was anything else to it. Okay, fine, I was relieved that Marco was staying over, not just for his sake, but for mine as well. Because I was worried. That's all.

"Can I get you anything?" I asked with the softest voice I'd managed all night. Most of my anger finally was dissipating as exhaustion was rapidly taking its place.

"Just stay with me," he whispered back, a slight tremor still wracking his body.

I smiled affectionately. "Of course." And I did, until we were both practically asleep on our feet.

I don't really remember retreating to my room, but we must have because the next thing I realized I woke in my own bed. I smiled over at Marco as the sun danced across his still sleeping features. He looked so incredibly vulnerable when he slept. Of course he always had that vulnerable air about him, but while he was asleep it was somehow totally exaggerated. I know I have the habit of being a bit overprotective of him, but I can't help it. I felt the urge to move closer and wrap around him protectively. Instead I reached out to gently smooth the hair away from his eyes. I leaned over impulsively and planted a kiss on his forehead.

As I started to draw back, I felt his hand graze lightly against my cheek as it slid behind my neck to stop my retreat. I was momentarily startled, but relaxed as I saw his extremely soulful eyes peering back at me. He smiled beatifically up at me before slowly raising to meet me, his lips meeting mine in a chaste kiss. It lasted only a moment, but when it ended, neither of us made any attempt to move away. We were so close that I could still feel his breath against my lips.

I was slightly startled as I felt his hand drift gently down my back, sending intense but pleasant shivers down my spine. I leaned forward a little bit again, my lips once again meeting his. This time the kiss seemed slightly less than chaste. And it quickly became even less so as I felt his tongue graze lightly across my lips and without any thought about it, I responded to his invitation. I became dizzy, overwhelmed by the sensations as our actions rapidly became more heated. What was happening? This was…wrong. We shouldn't be doing this. It wasn't real. Sure we loved each other, but it wasn't a romantic love, and it never could be. It was just that it had been a horrifying night and we were both seeking the comfort of the flesh from someone who loved us. But it was wrong…and I should stop it before we did anything either of us regretted.

All rational thoughts of consequences or wrongness fled as I felt Marco's hand sliding up my back. Under my shirt. The feel of his hand against my bare skin was electrifying and I found myself wanting to feel more of it. When I felt my shirt start riding up, I shed it with abandon.

For just a moment sanity returned and I couldn't believe what I was doing. This was wrong! And then it didn't matter. I gasped as bare flesh came into contact with bare flesh followed by the feel of his mouth against my flesh. Gods.

What were we…?

Didn't matter. Felt good. Felt better than I'd ever imagined anything could. Wait. Couldn't think. Should stop. But no. Didn't want to. Couldn't. Need. Want. Gods. Hands. Seeking. Touching. Guiding. Mouth. Searing heat. Fire. Gods.

My brain may have turned to complete mush, but my body moved on pure instinct and I gave myself over to it completely until at last I found myself slowly emerging from the haze. I was collapsed against Marco, our bodies still entwined, skin dewy. I gazed at his once again sleeping face and started to smile as I brushed the sweat from his brow.

And then I was suddenly seized with panic. What had we done? What the hell had we…? I started to try and disentangle myself but froze as I heard a strange sound near my ear. I slowly turned toward the sound and my mouth opened into a silent scream as I saw it; the grotesquely thick snake that was slithering from the floor up onto the bed where it was enveloping Marco. First winding around his arms, and then slowly wrapping around his neck.

No!

I scrambled from the bed. My first instinct of putting as much distance from the vicious creature as I could was quickly replaced by the overwhelming need to get it away from Marco. I couldn't even call out to warn him I was so afraid of startling the snake into attacking. But I had to do something!

I grabbed the first thing I could find--my umbrella--and swiftly moved to try and use it to pry the snake away from my best friend. I cried out in frustration as I misjudged how heavy the snake would be and the umbrella slipped from my grasp, clattering to the floor, opening as it hit. Damn it. I grappled with it, closing it again and then with a much stronger grip went after the snake again. I managed to pry it from Marco and tried to fling it, but again I misjudged and instead it simply hung from the umbrella until I slammed it to the ground, trying to jar the snake loose.

It worked, but a moment later I felt the snake starting to wind around my legs. I grappled with the umbrella and with an infuriated cry, I stabbed at the snake. Again. And again. Until finally I felt it drop lifelessly to the floor. I let the umbrella tumble from my fingers and sank back on the bed, realizing for the first time that my cheeks are wet with tears. I'm crying. Me. I don't cry damn it. I don't.

I felt Marco's arms wrap around me from behind and lean back against him, slowly relaxing as he urges us back down, his arms wrapping around me protectively. His lips were lovingly kissing the tension from my neck and I slowly felt myself drifting back to sleep, feeling loved and protected.

I smiled as I felt his breath against my ear as he whispered something into it. But the smile faded as I realized what those words were.

"What the fuck are you doing?" the voice in my ear growled, infuriated.

My eyes flew open and I screamed as I saw someone looming over us, grabbing Marco and yanking him away from me. Instinctively I grabbed for the sheets to cover myself and then realized that I was already dressed…and for a moment I was completely disoriented. I was dressed.

So…what…

Had I dreamed it? All of it? I must have. Right?

My eyes darted to the floor and my breath caught as I saw the carcass of the snake. So that had been real. But the rest…couldn't be. It had to have been a dream. Right?

Except…I wasn't wearing the sweatshirt I'd been wearing last I remembered from last night. Still. We hadn't…Marco was gay, he wouldn't have wanted to…right? I swallowed hard. It had to have been a dream. I must have changed into a tank-top at some point. So really, it was just a dream. Right? Yes. Right. And really, I'd know…right?

Of course even if that was true, there was still a major problem.

My eyes widened and I looked back toward Marco and his attacker.

A/N: Thanks for reading. It does a neurotic writer good if you do that little review thing. :)