Marko had gone tense as she about ripped off his head. The words weighed heavily on his mind. No. Not the words. The tone. It bit deeper than even the sharpest of his cutting blades. He opened his eyes but they were hazed over a bit. He wasn't really seeing her anymore. His grandmother's voice telling him to wake up. To stay strong. He didn't want to hear it. Even if she was here she was going to leave. His sanity source left once and she would likely do it again. The man with the black top hat she had seen might have been his father. Mother always did say his old man loved the top hat he owned. He was like Marko...he saw things people weren't supposed to see. It was possible it was Marko's father.<br/><br/>Her words echoing in his head. She didn't come back for her stuff? What did she come back for then? He hadn't been enough to make her stay. So why would he think he would be enough to make her come back? She had left in a hurry and come back in a hurry. It was just odd that is all. No way was it related to him. Something wanted her back here? How funny...something apparently wanted him here too because death never took him away. Never let him truly fall asleep. The sleep of death was denied to him. His eyes closing again as his head drooped from where he had come to sit. Words made little sense right now. His grandmother was just a vague whispering. He opened his eyes blinking them to focus on her words.<br/><br/>"Thats good..." He said softly. State he was in? His outer appearance was only the half of it. It seemed the only part of him able to truly die was his heart. Not in the stop beating but as in emotionally. "I don't want you to leave. I never wanted you to leave the way you did. I never wanted you to leave here like a bat out of hell." Strange choice of words but that was exactly the way it had looked. He shivered feeling something aainst his neck ever so slightly. The presence near him was cold. He was just too tired to care. His eyes blurred when he could of sworn he saw a sharp finger in his face. Then it was gone and his eyes lulled closed. Just a bit of sleep. He would be alright. He would be denied again. Denied. Access denied. Relief denied. Sanity denied. Happiness denied. All of it...denied.<br/><br/>He was fading off but not to die. To rest. Just to rest. His form shivering as it was cold.<span style="font-style: italic">His grandmother stroking his forehead. Then she moved and went to where the girl was sitting. Running her icy hand down her back and pushed with all the spectral energy she had. It wouldn't do much but perhaps it would give her the nudge she needed. She watched. Star crossed lovers. They were and always would be star crossed lovers. She shook her head and went insubstantial again.</span>He felt her form hit his. Letting out a sound of air as it was pushed from his lungs. His grandmother was guiding this situation as best she could. Being she was dead and a ghost not much she could do aside from urging nudges. Once she saw the girl doing it on her own she stopped.<br/><br/>Marko's eyes shot open but were strongly unfocused. Zoned out and dimmed out for the moment. The wet feel of blood would greet her when she grabbed onto his bandaged hand. He moved with her weakly. Easily dragged to the couch. His eyes closing again. Her warmth......it felt nice. He fell into a sleep again. A faint smile on his lips. She was near again. He loved her being near. She made him whole. Made him feel purpose. Like the depression wasn't the ruler of his life. Hours passed and his eyes slowly slid open. He was still pretty weak. The bleeding had stopped. The bandaged stained red though. A dark red as the blood had dried. His good arm moved and held Shawna. She really was here. It hadn't been a hallucination brought on by the blood loss. "Welcome home." he said. His voice weak but not fading out anymore. She was sleeping. She must have driven nonstop. He was happy she had not gotten killed in such a rush.<br/><br/>Yet...why? Why had she rushed so hectically to get back. Especially since she had left like a bat out of hell. With every intention of never coming back. His eyes closed but his breathing alone told he was awake. It was closer to normal just more shallow breaths. He didn't feel as depressed. She was going to give him hell for it. She had seen the red. Had seen the bandaged hand. Had seen his good arms palm stained red with blood. He knew she would demand answers. It was just how she was. She was the only one who ever really cared after his great grandmother passed away.