Edited 6/12/22.

A/N: This chapter contains mild swearing, implied sexual content, and a dissociative episode. Viewer discretion is advised.

***

Golden eyes are unfocused while observing the Cullens down below. They're in the process of packing their belongings into a storage truck. Smaller boxes are continuously handed off; a direct sign that the laborious task is almost finished.

Marshall's lips are pursed. One hand is lax in the pocket of his jeans. The other is fiddling with his choker's pendant. A dull ache has settled in his chest, and a deep pit has formed in his stomach.

It's unclear as to why.

He's glad to be staying. He's glad that-- aside from Edward-- the family honored Marshall's wishes by not forcing him to move away from Forks. Even though tensions have remained high because of the argument, it's bittersweet to see everyone leaving.

Maybe it's because Rose is going with them.

She's still his younger sister—the woman he loves and wants to protect. He knows that she's in good hands with the rest of the family. And he knows she'll only ever really be a phone call away.

The thought does little to console him in terms of their separation.

Marshall doesn't want to hold her back. He knows that Rosalie can flourish in any environment. She'll continue to grow in Ithaca just like he will here. At the same time, it's unfortunate that, due to the circumstances being what they are, the Hale siblings won't be able to witness each other's development.

Oh well. They've made the best decisions for themselves. All anyone can do now is follow their own paths.

Several vehicles pull away from the now empty household, taking everyone and everything without so much as a goodbye. It's weird to not have any other scents marking the floors below. Uninhabited space takes on a faint scent of wood. Harsh wind against glass echoes throughout from downstairs. It's... quiet.

It's also quite invigorating for Marshall to finally let his guard down.

He moves his hand from his choker to his bonding mark. Pale fingers grip tightly against the ridged scar on his flesh. Now that he doesn't have to wear cologne to hide the natural scent secreting from it, pleasant musk completely envelops him.

In a way, it's overwhelming. Because the house is vacant; and the delightful fragrance makes Marshall feel like he's not completely alone.

He bites his lip when Paul's smiling face comes to mind. Loneliness is starting to heighten. As is a need to be comforted by the person who does it best.

Marshall walks away from the window. Light steps are taken up to the second level of his loft. He falls onto his stomach, bouncing on the surface of the bed. A tired gaze is brought to the picturesque scene of mountains and a waterfall in the distance. While looking out, the vampire brings his phone up to his ear. His face remains passive as he listens to monotonous ringing.

"Hey, Marshmallow.~"

Loud talking can be heard in the background. Booming laughter from Sam is almost muffled by the sound of rock music. Clinking of glassware bleeds through the receiver as well.

Marshall's not sure if they're at the bar, or just having a good time at Emily's. Either way, the thought of possibly ruining a jovial atmosphere makes him consider hanging up.

"Hey, Paul." Marshall clears his throat to keep his voice from wavering. "Are you- are you busy right now? And later in the day?"

"Nah- just finished patrol. Me and the guys are hanging out at Em's. And I'm not busy again until tomorrow night, so I'm free. Why? Something wrong?"

"...Do you think you could come over to my place? No one else is here, so you don't have to worry about getting caught."

Background noise immediately ceases. He isn't sure if the other pack members can hear the call, but he doesn't have enough energy to really care at the moment.

"Do you need me for the night?" Paul asks.

"Yes."

"Are you okay?"

"...I don't know."

Marshall swallows and glances down at his bed. He takes hold of his pendant while in search of comfort, waiting for Paul to speak again. Pleasant musk from the bonding mark increases in response to the vampire's distress.

"How quickly do you need me there?"

"...Now, please."

"Say no more. I'm on my way. You just have to hold on a little longer for me. We'll figure this out though, don't you worry."

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Marshmallow."

The call is ended. A quick text is sent to Paul before Marshall sets his phone down beside his hand. He looks back up at the nearby scenery.

In the span of time it took for him to get through his conversation, a thunderstorm began.

Water races down tall glass windows. Golden eyes watch between two droplets to see which one will meet the bottom of the frame first. Frigid wind causes smaller dollops to build up against the glass. Some sections are more saturated than others.

In the distance, a bright strike of lightning illuminates the sky. It takes a moment for thunder to follow. A fierce crackle echoes against the empty interior downstairs.

Marshall jumps.

Loud—it's too loud right now.

He reaches toward the edge of his bed. Shaking fingertips search the nightstand for a pair of earphones. They're pulled back at the sensation of thin plastic against his skin. Flimsy wiring is tangled, but it doesn't take much effort to remedy that issue.

Marshall slides both buds into his ears. The end is connected to his phone's jack. He pulls up the music app and clicks on his favorite album. A cognizant decision is made to put it on shuffle instead of outright choosing a song. Soothing instrumentals are successful in drowning out any background noise around him.

And then Marshall is floating.

Not literally, but he feels like he is.

With his eyes closed, the vampire is no longer sitting in his bedroom. He's floating around in a deep ocean of darkness. There's no noise aside from his music. There's no stress. There's no sensation of aching or anything of the sort. It's all just... void. There's nothing.

It's exactly what he needs right now to keep himself from spiraling.

Marshall isn't sure what triggered his sudden sensory overload. All he knows is that if he hadn't stopped it in its tracks, he would've begun to descend into a very bad place.

Soft lyrics and instrumentals from blaring songs help keep him grounded. His hands take hold of the fabric of his jeans. His knees are pulled to his chest. The vampire feels blissfully empty for a decent amount of time.

He's only pulled out of his head—and stops floating—at the sensation of a faint vibrating beside him. Golden eyes skim over the phone's dim screen.

Big Tiger:

Open up honey bun.

The device is dropped, earphones are taken out, and the bed is abandoned in one fluid motion. Marshall runs downstairs with such speed that his longer strands of hair are still following behind him when he stops moving. The front door is pulled open. He's met with the sight of his partially damp boyfriend carrying a small duffel bag in hand.

Paul must notice the lacking furniture inside because he walks up the remaining front steps in a rushed manner. He drops his bag down beside him. Without warning, the shifter scoops his imprint up into a tight, warm embrace.

"I'm right here, baby. Everything's going to be fine."

Marshall hugs back just as strong. He's not subtle about a particularly deep inhale.

They haven't seen each other in a few days, and Paul's strong scent makes so many emotions bubble to the surface.

The hug isn't released until Marshall initiates it. Both men are quiet when they grab the shifter's belongings and go back upstairs. Paul doesn't say anything when looking around the bare household. He just grips his boyfriend's hand a little tighter.

Their footsteps are light against the wooden platforms of the stairs. A stale environment becomes more homey when the vampire opens the door to his loft. In his rush to get downstairs, Marshall must've unplugged his earphones because soft music is playing from the second level where his bed is. Lights are dim. Rain against the windows has lessened by a substantial amount. Booming thunder is much quieter now than it was initially.

"Let me get you a towel."

He hesitantly lets go of his partner's hand, walking further inside. Marshall takes a few short steps to the bathroom toward the back of the loft. His softest towel is grabbed. He strolls back to the scene of his boyfriend putting down his belongings.

Paul already has his shoes off, and the duffel bag is placed beside the kitchen counter. His own leather jacket is hanging on the coat rack next to a similar garment.

The vampire doesn't hand over the towel. Instead, it's draped over brunet hair which is dried by Marshall. A dark blue washcloth is dragged from Paul's head down to his chest; it's pulled along his arms. To get more comfortable, the shifter steps out of his wet jeans. They're swapped for a more comfortable pair of dry sweats. Damp articles of clothing are placed in a hidden dryer near the pantry.

Both men make their way to the second level. Paul looks up with a hungry expression when he's pushed onto the surface of the bed. Marshall climbs on top, straddling his boyfriend's lap. Their bodies are flesh against each other when they meet for a heated kiss.

A colder, leaner torso is worshiped with firm hands. Smaller ones rake through slightly damp hair. Soft breaths escape them. Moans and pants are swallowed with desperation. Clothes start to feel too constrictive in a matter of minutes.

Before either male fully realizes what's happening, outfits are tossed aside; nude bodies slot together; and they're having sex.

*

The sky is dark by the time deep moans and broken whimpers have faded into nothing. Music is still playing, but it's switched to rhythmic jazz. An orange candle is lit on the nightstand beside their phones. Marshall is sitting up with his gaze staring out of the window. A blanket is barely wrapped around his lower body.

Paul's head is resting in his imprint's lap. Careful hands work through the small knots of his hair. An arm is draped around his boyfriend's hips. He keeps the touch of his grazing fingers featherlight. His other hand is unconsciously tracing the skin of his chest where multiple dark hickeys are littered.

With Paul here, the house feels a lot less lonely.

"Marshmallow." The shifter's voice is low and scratchy. "Do you want to tell me what happened? I'm happy to have been able to distract you for a few hours- but I think you need to talk this out in order to really feel better."

Marshall sighs. His fingers continue to rake through his partner's hair. "There was an... incident with Bella a few days ago. It was her birthday, so we threw her a party. Long story short, she accidentally got a cut and started bleeding. My coven mate couldn't control himself. One thing led to another, and Bella ended up going home with a stitched up arm. No one bit her or anything, don't worry. But that incident sparked my family's discussion of moving away from Forks.

"I only found that out after they came to the decision of actually leaving. They didn't bring it up to me. They just assumed that I'd go with them even though they didn't ask me- or talk to me- or anything like that. Edward and I got into a very, very heated argument."

"Did you get hurt?"

"No- no one did, thankfully. I'll admit that I spoke out of anger and wasn't thinking clearly. But I meant what I said. I told them that my life was here. That I wasn't going to just leave after finally beginning to settle down. After everything was said and done, they decided to go. And I decided to stay. I don't know if they're going to come back any time soon. I'm assuming they won't though, since Edward wants Bella to move on from him to keep her safe. So- well, now it's just me. All alone in this big house."

Paul's fingers stop moving. He looks up toward his imprint who looks down in response to the movement. They look over each other's faces: from their eyes, to their noses, to their cheeks, to their lips. They soak up each other's defining features in silence.

"I'm happy that they're gone- that gives us the opportunity to not have to hide anymore. I can actually relax while I'm here..." Marshall's voice tapers off. "At the same time though, part of me feels... neglected? Left behind? I'm not really sure how to explain it. But it made me feel so out of touch that I ended up dissociating before you got here. It made it easier to be by myself if I wasn't really in my body."

Paul nods his head. "I understand, honey. And I don't think it's bad for you to feel a little conflicted. Even though you weren't getting along, they were still your family. I'm sure it wasn't easy to see them go."

"No, it wasn't."

"Still- I think they should've tried harder for you. It seems like they didn't fight to be here. I understand if you feel like they abandoned you- they didn't even attempt to stay here- to see if they could make things work. It's more like they just wanted to control you because the situation came for them to try and do so. I'm sorry to say, but it seems- from my perspective- as if they were okay with leaving you behind because they couldn't force your hand the way they thought they could."

Marshall feels his eyes water. He hadn't thought about the situation like that.

The family did fight to try and force him into submission. And when they didn't get their way—when they saw coercion wasn't going to work—they opted to deal with Marshall by getting rid of him.

Everyone was so ready to move on, they didn't even try to stay.

Not even Rosalie.

She was given the option to keep living in Forks, and she still chose to leave. That abandonment is more painful than anything else.

"...What hurts especially is the fact that they said they decided to leave as a family. I wasn't even part of that conversation- so what does that make me? What does that say about my position with them? Am I just a glorified object rather than a son? Or a brother? I've sacrificed years of my life to make sure they were comfortable and happy, while I was kicked to the gutter and left to pick up my own pieces." His voice breaks. "Fuck- they fully intended to just have me leave with them. They expected me to just leave my career and my friends. They expected me to leave you. I couldn't- I can't. You've become such a constant in my life. I couldn't imagine not having you in it.

"And now I'm alone. I'm going to continue to grow and thrive and be happy- but I'm going to do it alone."

"No, you're not- look at me, Marsh."

Paul props himself up onto his elbow. He places a hand against his imprint's cheek. They make eye contact. A single tear falls down Marshall's cheek at the sight of his mate's understanding expression.

"You're not alone in this. Your old family might've left, but you still have the one you created. You have your theater group and dance company friends. You have Bobby. You have Brad and Yasmine. You have the pack. And you have me. I promise, you will always have me." Paul pulls Marshall down for a hug. "So even if your coven isn't here anymore- that doesn't mean your family's gone. The people that care about you are still here. And we'll never ever leave you alone. We'll never leave you behind."

The vampire lets out decades worth of stress and frustration and sadness. Harsh sobs are uncontrollable and shake him to his core. He's sure that he's making a puddle of tears in the space of his boyfriend's collarbone.

But Paul doesn't seem to mind. He just lets Marshall cry his heart out.

A raging thunderstorm outside is completely forgotten. Inner wounds beginning to heal are focused on instead.