"I... just can't believe it... he's always so... 'safe'..."

Mr Diaz was sobbing quietly into a handkerchief while Mrs Diaz stood pale and trembling, saying over and over again how she just couldn't get her head around it.

Mr and Mrs Diaz, Mina, Doctor Tina, King River, Queen Moon, Star and Tom all stood at Marco's bed side.

The boy hadn't moved in four days. He was no longer tied up- it had become clear that after two days of silence and no movement whatsoever that the chains weren't necessary. He had been moved to the communal hospital on the third day, and Mr and Mrs Diaz had arrived that afternoon. They were staying in the castle for as long as was needed.

After a while Mina, Tom and Tina left. Mr and Mrs Diaz were sat side by side, cuddled next to each other at their son's bedside, crying quietly while the king and queen feebly tried to comfort them.

Star, unable to stand the morose atmosphere and the slack body lying in Marco's skin, left to her bedroom.

She lay on her bed for a bit, then, uncomfortable, undressed and slipped on her pyjamas. The sun was beginning to go down now. The gentle glow in which it bathed her bedroom was contradictory to the sombre atmosphere. Star fell back onto her bed and watched the calming shadows drift across the ceiling of her four poster bed as the sun sank steadily behind the horizon. The air cooled. Star began to feel drowsy, but, having managed to block out most of her depressing thoughts about her current situation, found it was more difficult to do so in her tiredness.

She did manage to keep the tears at bay, though. It felt to her as though she had cried more in the past couple of weeks than she had cried in her whole life. However, the tears she shed were nothing compared to the pain and anguish she knew Marco had gone through, and her own suffering only made up for that marginally.

He had been tortured to the brink of death, and know this dark magic swirling around inside him... it wasn't fair. It wasn't right and it wasn't going to end like this. Star wouldn't- couldn't allow it.

Lying comatose was the lowest Marco would sink, and Star would make sure of it. She promised herself there and then that she would to whatever it took- whatever- to get Marco back to normal. She couldn't bare to think of even the slight possibility that he wouldn't make it. She forced herself to stop dwelling on it because it made her feel very, very sick.

Hatred for Toffee rose in her life boiling water, and suddenly she wanted to scream. The injustice of the matter simply disgusted her. And deep down, she thought this was probably because she knew she was responsible: firstly, if Marco had never met her, he would never be in this danger; he would be safe. Secondly, if Star hadn't tried to fix his broken arm, she would never have released his darkness, which was now creating more problems than she thought would ever be possible: it was taking over again, aided by Toffee's dagger.

Star took a deep breath and steadied herself on her bed. She closed her eyes and tried to cram all the horrible thoughts down, tried to gain a few hours of sleep.